#i really need something to work out for me that is NOT HERE

[plainclothesdisaster]

DPxDC Mechanical Engineer Danny

Danny caught the attention of Batman while studying at Gotham University for his alternative energy projects. He’s hired right out of college to work on the Watchtower.

He shows absolutely no tell of his abilities till there’s a dire situation- Flash’s electric discharge messes with one of his projects in progress and the whole base would have lost air pressure if he hadn’t done a quick fix using telekinesis and ice.

Of course Batman notices.

Batman assumes the worst- he suspects Danny’s a rogue of some kind, someone who has infiltrated the Justice League with an ulterior motive. But he can’t just fire Danny now- he’s the only one who knows how the new Watchtower energy source works. Plus, he’s not letting Danny go anywhere until he’s figured out his true motives.

Cue Batman subtly testing Danny- tossing things at him to trigger inhuman fast reflexes, having him lift too-heavy machinery, setting up convenient opportunities to steal or snoop or otherwise be up to no good. Danny does take advantage but only once, to use a computer terminal with unlocked clearance. He didn’t plant any bugs that Barman could find, and he otherwise kept up his powerless civilian act perfectly.

Still, Batman’s not satisfied. He brings an infrasonic sound emitter to Danny’s lab one day, and that, of all things, is what gets Danny to break.

“I know what you’re doing,” Danny admits with a sigh, finally. “If you’re really that suspicious of me, I can leave, but I kinda like my job so I’d prefer not to. The benefits are insane compared to what’s standard.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure. yeah. How about you turn off the freaking noise generator and we can talk?”

“Hm.” Batman obliges, and he takes the stool next to Danny at his gesture.

“Number one, I’m not a meta. Despite all the data and conclusions you’ve probably drawn otherwise. Number two, I’m on your side. I’m here to work on the base, that’s it. I follow your rules to the letter.”

“The-“

“The classified files I looked at? Yeah that was the one exception. You already know what I looked at, I’m sure, but maybe you haven’t figured out why. It goes back to point one- I may not be a meta, but I am something that organization, the GIW, cares about. I looked at your files on them to sus out your relations. Seeing as I don’t particularly love being the victim to twelve degrees of human rights violations if I can avoid it.”

“Hm.” The Ghost Intelligence Ward was one of many government agencies that the Justice League hadn’t worked closely with. But they also hadn’t been flagged for Justice League investigation. Danny’s comments made him doubt that call.

“Any other questions?”

“If you’re not a meta, what are you?”

“I’m an engineer. A pretty decent one. And I’d really, really like it to stay that way.”

Batman considers, and ultimately lets him stay. He likes Danny (everyone likes Danny), and it would be a massive pain in the ass to replace him. He really is a good engineer.

It’s only much later that his faith in Danny is repaid in spades.

Batman finds Danny on the Watchtower command bridge. Alarms are blaring, the station has been knocked out of orbit, out the window there’s shrapnel floating everywhere as a space battle rages around them.

On the station it’s chaos. Technicians run around, shouts from the med bay, sparks from the walls.

Batman and Danny stand at the main controls, watching the battle outside, stoic, unmoving.

Wonder Woman’s harried voice crackles through on coms: “We need backup.”

“There is no more backup.” Batman replies, while looking pointedly at Danny.

“What?”

Batman doesn’t move.

“What.”

“The impact from Darkseid’s initial attack should have sent this station on a terminal trajectory toward the planet.”

“Well. We aren’t currently plummeting to our deaths, so turns out it didn’t do that.”

“You did something.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You’re lying.”

“Maybe Superman nudged us back on course in all the chaos.”

“I’ve been watching the trackers. No one else with the capability has come near the station.”

“Can’t you just be grateful we got lucky?”

Sounds of peril screech over the coms. Danny’s face scrunches.

“Luck had nothing to do with it. As it is now, we are going to lose this fight.”

“Isn’t there anyone else you can call?”

“I’m asking you. You can help, can’t you?”

The glare-off lasts a long moment more before Danny breaks.

“Fuck. Fuckity fuck.” Danny runs his hands through his hair. “Shit. You don’t know what you’re asking.”

“I’m asking you to save this and countless other worlds from a genocide. I’m also asking you to save my friends.”

Danny looks at him, hard, weary, and with a kind of deep resolve that feels far too ancient to be on the face of a supposed twenty-something.

“Fine. Fine. Okay.” He steps back and transforms. If Batman is surprised when he shakes off his human appearance like an old coat, he doesn’t show it. But what’s undeniable is the being in Danny’s place has the unmistakable presence of power.

“No one else can know.” His voice echoes in a way that’s sonically impossible, both sounding closer and further away than he should be.

He pulls a gear-shaped medallion seemingly out of thin air and puts it over his head in one motion.

“If I get in trouble for this, I’m blaming you.”

He vanishes. Outside, the shape of the battle changes instantly. The stars seem to glow brighter as the arms of the galaxy flash with the colors of the aurora. Then it’s like the void of space itself comes alive. It moves the spaceships back like they’re toys, plucking them from one side of the field to the other. It finds Darkseid at the heart of the chaos and massive arms of nothingness and darkness wrap around him. He’s screaming as it swallows him whole.

His armies scatter. The battle turns. The JL deal with the stragglers, but the air of relief is palpable.

Danny reappears next to Batman, once again donning his grease-stained coveralls. Arms folded.

“Happy?”

It took all of five minutes. Less, probably. Batman tamps down a thousand questions.

“Thank you.”

“I’m gonna need two weeks off minimum.” Danny snaps. “One to deal with the bureaucratic nightmare you’ve just caused me, and another to recover from the headache.”

Batman blanks. “Granted.”

Danny sighs. “And I’m not fixing the station until I’m back. It won’t fall out of the sky as is. Make up whatever excuse you want.”

“Done.” He considers. “I would prefer to tell them the truth. That you saved us.”

Danny glares. “I’m not supposed to save you. I made a pact not to use my power to influence the mortal realm.”

“A pact with who?”

Danny rolls his eyes. “The embodiment of Time. The concept of Justice. Among others.” He smirks at Batman’s confusion.

“And what, exactly, does that make you?”

He stands, framed by the space window, haloed by the stars. “I’ll give you three guesses.”

Batman frowns.

“Look. I like you guys. I like working on your base. I like supporting the work you do. But you can not go factoring me in to any of your plans or contingencies. This was a one time thing.

“So to answer your question again: I’m an engineer.”

[partiallysame]

Ghost Gets No Bitches Part 2:

second part to THIS

Word count 1400

Content warning: suggestive, alcohol

When ghost finally texted you the message was something along the lines of: 

Hello. This is the man from (insert specific grocery store name followed by the exact address of said grocery store). 

You: Do I get to know your name or am I just supposed to call you Man From Grocery Store?

Ghost: Simon

Wow ok not a talker but we can work through that. Simon knew he should take you to a proper dinner but you made him so anxious he needed somewhere safe. Comfortable. Ah yes the closest bar to his base that he goes to almost daily. When you agreed to the date the panic really set in. He’s gonna be alone with you again (he ran to Price to ask for help on what to do. “You can’t wear the fucking mask” “but why?”)

The second Ghost got out of his car he noticed Soap had followed him to the bar (how could he not, Ghost had been sweating all day about meeting his lil lass again) “you walk in that bar and I’ll put a bullet in you, Mohawk”

“Aye come on. Jus wanna see a little more of the pretty bird that’s got ya all nervous”

 Soap knew he was bluffing about shooting him until Ghost pulled up his shirt enough to show his gun and the silencer attached to it. Yup ok he really would shoot him. Suddenly Soap is back in his car.

And then there you were, picture of perfection walking towards him. Big smile and small dress oh he was fucked. He opened the door for you and you let out a “good boy” as you walked through, an audible gulp came from him. Making your way to the bar to order, you told the bartender your drink, turning to ask Simon what he wanted only to find him standing 4 feet from you, scared to get too close. “Come here.” A command. One giant step and he was by your side. You moved closer until your shoulder was touching him. Control your breathing Ghost. “What do you want big boy?” You looked up at him and he should be embarrassed that you just called him that in front of his favorite bartender but he is definitely not. He said the beer he wanted and you added “two please. He’s nervous” the bartender was trying not to laugh.

“Tab Open or closed?” The bartender asked to which you quickly said open and began sliding your card over. 

“No.” Simon’s voice was deep and gravely and his sudden outburst caught you off guard. He may let you walk all over him but there was no way he, a gentleman would let you pay. 

You turned to him, eyebrows raised, “did you just tell me no?” Voice laced with genuine surprise and his eyes got wide, fuck was he in trouble? He nodded too afraid of how to properly respond but he continued to hand his card over and return yours to you. 

“You only get to tell me that once and that was it.” You scolded him as the barkeep slid the drinks over to you. You grabbed his two beers, one in each hand to hand to your date. He nodded again in response but did not miss the way your eyes were glued to his giant hands when he easily held the two bottles in one hand. 

Making your way over to a booth to sit, someone bumped into you, slightly spilling your drink down your hand. The man kept walking until a large (big sexy) hand grabbed his shoulder. Terrified apologies stumbled from his lips at the sight of Simon. But your hand quickly found its way onto Simon’s chest. 

“It’s not a big deal. Right Simon?” He looked down at you just in time to see you put your fingers in your mouth sucking the spilled drink from them. Christ’s sake woman. Your hand on his chest could feel his racing heart beat. 

“Not a big deal mate.” He let go of (pushed) the man as he watched you finish the walk to the table you wanted. He followed but when he got to the table he just stood there so awkwardly. 

“Simon, sit down. This is a date you know.” He’s sat. You decided that if he wasn’t going to talk then you wouldn’t either. You just sat there watching this giant muscle man fidget in his seat, emotional support beer being held so tightly in front of him. Your eyes taking in all of his features, pretty blue eyes and chiseled facial features. After however many minutes of silence (Simon squirming) you decided it was time for billiards. This is a bar after all. 

“Let’s go play” your head nodding to the empty pool table. The sudden sound of your voice made him jump. For goodness sakes man chill. He downed his second beer as he stood beginning to relax slightly. The bar was starting to get crowded so you reached for his hand before making your way to the table, pulling him behind you. You’re touching him. Fuck your hands are so soft, small compared to his. How would they look holding his…  A small and disappointed “oh” came from your lips as you neared the table. A group of men had gotten to it first but with a quick clear of his throat and deadly stare from Simon they gently handed you the cue ball. You turned to face him and god you were so close to him. He thought you holding his hand was bad? Now your chest is touching his. 

“Ready to lose?” You questioned batting your lashes at him, watching his pupils dilate. 

“I was gonna ask you the same.” You bit your lip at his response, excited to finally get somewhere with this man. There was a stare down for a few moments before you turned to begin the game. 

Were you bad at pool? No. Were you good? Also no. But Simon? Never missed a shot. No no this won’t do. Quickly realizing that you are losing (you only got one turn) you changed the game. Now you’re just standing at the edge of the table, looking pretty, moving the balls around with your hands, demanding trick shots. 

“Orange here to here then this pocket.” Hands pointing around before being placed palms down on the table, cleavage exposed and Simon can’t breathe. He does it and you praise him with another “good boy.” Two more planned shots and now you’re curling your finger, beckoning him closer. 

“8 ball. Corner pocket.” Simon begins to bend to line up his shot when you move so you are sandwiched between him and the table. Breathe Simon breathe. “Go on handsome.” Fuck ok he can do this. His large body easily envelopes yours, slowly bending at the waist and you are pushed down slightly, his chest pressed against your back. Your ass pressed exactly where you want it. Simon’s arms wrap around you to place his hand under the stick to steady it. You wiggled your ass back against his crotch and you could hear him stifle a groan. You can tell he’s trying to focus on the task at hand, but let's make it more fun. You turn your head until your lips are brushing against his jaw, sliding their way up to his ear and the whine that escapes this man at the contact. His hands glued to where they were placed on the table, too scared to move them where he actually wanted them.

“If you make this, you’ll get a reward.” You pressed your body into him more, feeling what was starting to form in his pants and you could feel the vibrations in his chest from a suppressed growl. “But.” you paused for a moment and he thought he was going to break the pool stick from holding on so hard. “But if you miss, your friend from the parking lot is allowed to come play too next time. So whats it gonna be?” You removed your lips from his ear, signalling him to take the shot. A breathy and accidental “fuck me” came from him as he lined up his shot. There was no way he was going to miss this, but when you added “thats the plan” after his last comment he missed the ball all together, pool cue scratching the green fabric on the table. He stood quickly cursing every god there ever was as you spun in his arms now face to face. Your arms reached up to wrap themselves around his neck. “What was his name again?”

Part 2.5 Part 3

[angelltheninth]

Arcane Characters Find Out You Haven't Had Your First Kiss Yet

Pairing: Jinx, Vi, Caitlyn Kiramman, Maddie Nolen, Ekko, Vander, Silco, Sevika, Viktor, Jayce Talis, Mel Medarda x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, kissing, first kiss, flirting, banter, shyness, gentle kissing, musundertsnadings, age-gap, experiance gap

Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters | Commissions

A/N: I have kissed people before and I know I wanna kiss all of them too. They deserve kisses, they need kisses.

"Ya've been starin' at me for an awful long time now. Not that I mind, your eyes are real pretty, sugar. But ya've got me all curious now." Jinx invaded your personal space like it was no big deal and leaned in so you had but inches between you.

You pressed your lips together and fidgeted in your seat. "You... I was wondering have you kissed anyone before?"

"Well here and there but not recently. I've got someone I really wanna kiss now." She pointed at you and tucked a hair behind your ear. "Wanna make out? I don't have any important things to do for a few hours?"

"Few hours? People make out for that long? Wait no, that's not what I want to do. I was curious cause I never kissed anyone and I was wondering if you... maybe wanted to kiss me?" With a slightly bashful tone you met her shiny purple eyes which only seemed to get brighter as she closed in.

"Do I wanna kiss ya? I wanted to since I saw ya! Been waitin' to get asked. Ya know, gentlewoman and all that shit." She wasn't one, not by a longshot but she also knew she could cross boundaries easily, this was one where she was more than willing to wait. "Pucker up quick!" You only had a second to react before harsh lips closed over yours, her thin but strong arms locking you in place on the chair. "Mwah!" Jinx cackled when she pulled back. "There. That's one thing to cross of your list. Can't wait for more." Winking she spun around in her chair and did a little happy dance.

Everyone knew Vi was a bold one, what she wanted she went for, often with little questions asked. She spent the whole date taking initiative, taking your hand, showing you the best places in Zaun, and a few at Piltover too, although she didn't know as many that were cooler than Zaun's. At the end of it she walked your home.

"I live in a safe neighborhood, Vi. There's no need for this." You argued as you fished for your keys to unlock the door. As you did you had full intention to invite her in.

"You never know when someone might try something. You're too cut to pass up on, sweet thing like you, bound to attract eyes. People might get ideas. Like this." Before you knew it, she pressed both hands against your hips and kissed your neck. You nearly dropped the keys when you felt the bolt of excitement run through your body. "See what I mean?"

Gulping you turned your head to hers. "Y-Yeah." She smirked and cupped your chin with the opposite hand, bringing you closer. "Vi, hold on." You turned your head back towards the door. "I never kissed anyone before." The whisper pierced through all the horny energy in Vi's body.

Her hands dropped from your hips. "Oh. Well now I feel like an ass. Since you let me walk you back and all, I thought... sorry I don't know what I thought. Do you want me to leave?" She waited for you to turn around and was surprised when you cupped her cheeks and leaned in. Her eyes widened for a moment before closing, right as your lips met in the middle. The grip on your hips returned, but it wasn't as strong as before. She wasn't the only one who could initiate.

You could look far and wide and you wouldn't find a bigger gentlewoman than Caitlyn. She asked if anything she did was wanted, if it was okay, if you liked it. Some of it came from her Academy days, some from her upbringing but she was never pushy with you.

It was actually you that noticed she was glancing at your lips a little too often while you were helping her sort out through the many documents she apparently had to bring home to work on. "Today was supposed to be our date, seems to me like you're dating your work as much as you're dating me." You teased and watched her huff.

"That is not true. You are infinitely more attractive, darling. I wouldn't kiss the papers but I would kiss you any day." Caitlyn flirted back and set the mentioned papers down. "In fact... I could use a little break from this. And you're right, tonight is our date night. So, tell me," Caitlyn walked up to your side of the desk and leaned on her hands, her face above yours, "would you do me the honor of kissing me?"

A heavy blush bloomed on your face as you felt caught in her crosshairs. When she got serious about something she saw it though until the end. That's how she was looking at you now. "I'd love to kiss you, Cait."

She chuckled at your breathless tone. "I'll go slow. It's your first kiss, right? I figured from the way you'd blush and turn your head when I'd lean in." Her gloved hands slid over your hands, giving them a comforting squeeze. "Close your eyes for me, darling." The moment you did you felt her lips against yours, perfectly falling into place.

"You're joking, aren't you? You haven't kissed anyone? No one? Not even a little?" She tried to hide her amused smile behind her hand but it was futile. You rolled your eyes at Maddie and then threw a pillow in at her head.

"First, how do you kiss someone a little? And second, you know I've barely dated before this. You're the first girl I'm kinda serious about. Thought that waiting to have my first kiss would be... you know romantic?" You shrugged and hugged the other pillow close to your chest. Maddie let out a loud 'awww' and hugged you tight, kissing your cheek.

She laughed when you tried to push her away for making fun of you.

"Now hold on. I think that is really sweet of you, love. Not many people out there have your romatic mind and I love that about you. Also, real sweet that you want to kiss me out of everyone." Her hands pressed upon your shoulders and her smiling face approached yours. "Do I get to do that now or...?"

You could see how eager she seemed now that she learned all this new information. "I mean... if you want." Your hug around the pillow tightened as you tried to will yourself to calm down. On the outside you were calmer, ever pushing back into the kiss, sighing contently against Maddie's lips, but on the inside, you were a damn mess of anxiety. "Shhh, it's just me, remember?" She cooed against your lips and waited for you to relax, massaging your shoulders before leaning in for a second, longer kiss.

This was more of a dare than you wanting to kiss anyone tonight. It wasn't your fault that all your friends knew about your big crush on Ekko and roped you into a game of darts that you lost and therefore had to walk over to him and kiss him. Your friends watched you fumble over to him, all giggling.

Ekko looked at you a little bewildered. "Look, don't ask, this was all their idea." You pointed behind yourself at your friends. "They dared me to kiss you so, if you wanna kiss me... you know, cool

"I've got nothing against kissing you, firefly, but I'm a little confused. Thought you didn't mess 'round with friends like that." Ekko did, you knew but you always thought that if you crossed that line with him there would be no bottling your feelings back up. And standing here in front of him, asking for a kiss, you knew that was true.

"I don't mess around with friends. But they won't leave me alone about not kissing anyone yet and you were the safest bet. Plus..." You moved from foot to foot, like that would shake off your nerves. "I like you, Ekko. As more than a friend. I have for a while."

All the chatter from around the two of you seemed to fall into a void. Ekko opened his mouth to say something but you kissed him before he could, too scared of a rejection and too high strung to think about the fact that you might never get this chance again. But to your surprise he kissed back, his full lips pressing hard against yours. "Thought you'd never come out and say it. Damn, been waiting to hear those words since forever." Ekko hushed against you before he dragged his lips from the corner of your mouth to your ear. "I like you too." He confessed with a whisper.

"Don't you let what those assholes said get to you, darlin', their mouth is bigger than their brain." Vander cleaned the dirty glasses behind the bar as you handed them to him one after another.

You grimaced, remembering all the teasing, quite rude teasing might you add, that you endured before Vander stepped in. "I could have kicked them out myself. Besides what do they care if I'm dating you? Not like you gave me the job because of it." They said a lot more than that but you didn't even want to go through all of it.

"Hey, you do great work here. The kids love you; I love you. All that talk about tradin' favors, bunch of bullshit, that's what it is. Besides, I know you've kept to yourself more than others around here. Got nothin' against that. If anything, makes me a bit nervous. I mean, you really want this old man to be your first at everything?" He scratched the back of your head as he remembered the night when you cuddled and you confessed, he would really be your first everything, not just your first relationship. Since then, he'd been a bit jumpier.

"Vander, you're a bit more than a decade older than me. We're both old. And when you get to my age and you haven't done anything, people talk. So, I can't really blame them for thinking what they do about me getting a job here. It's shitty yeah, but like you said, they're just assholes. I want you to be my first kiss, first everything." You confessed and suddenly you noticed Vander wasn't cleaning glasses anymore. He still had the glass and the rag in his hand but he wasn't moving at all.

You seem to have stunned him with your words. There was an old story you remember, about a kiss breaking a sleeping woman from her slumber. With a cheeky grin you pushed yourself up on the bar to get high enough to kiss him. Vander let out a sound of surprise but quickly melted into the kiss. The sound of the glass shattering also shattered the quiet moment you shared and you parted, laughing. "Well, I'll be damned. Seems like there are still things that surprise me."

Silco didn't hear anything from you about the status of you kissing or not kissing anyone. He heard it from Jinx, who heard it from Sevika. And to think one of your best friends would rat you out to her boss' daughter like that. "I'll kill that mouthy bi-" Your threat stopped on your lips, silenced by thin lips. "Silco... what the fuck?"

"What? From how I heard it, you really wanted to kiss me, but were to scared of looking desperate. Best to get things like this over with fast, otherwise they clog up your brain with unnecessary worries." He spoke like a true businessman. And at his core he was one, a corrupted one, and really good at his job.

Still, you looked at him, blinking slowly, still feeling his lips against yours. Your fingertips touched the tingly flesh.

"Silco... that was my first kiss! You asshole!" You pushed him and he did take a few steps backwards. "This is why you can never tell anything to anyone around here!"

Like it was messy he fixed his tie and vest, tugging until they were to his standard again. Then he walked up to you again, his orange eye trained on you like a cat's eye on a little mouse. "Did you hate that I did it? I was never good at asking for permission when I wanted something, or forgiveness. However, if you need an apology from me, I might consider it."

Despite the imposing presence you weren't scared of him at all. "For god’s sake, Silco, I didn't hate it. You could have put more effort in it though. You know, make it more romantic for a lady, sweep her off her feet and take her out to dinner." It was like this man did every romantic thing backwards. He slept with you before he asked you out, he never even asked you out officially, just told you he liked spending time with you, and now this. "You're hopeless sometimes."

When she heard what you said she couldn't help but let out a full belly laugh at it. "Jerk! I'm being serious!" You smacked your fists against her shoulder, which only made the big brawler of a woman laugh more. Sevika never had the most tact or subtlety, or was the best at keeping her emotions in.

"I know you are! Which is why it's so damn funny. I mean shit, sweetheart, haven't kissed anyone? I see you tearing up that dance floor every night with me. You're telling me no one ever got lucky enough to kiss you on the lips? On the other lips maybe?" She wiggled her eyebrows at you.

"You're gross sometimes, you know that." You smacked her on the bicep again, and at the next attempt she grabbed your wrist and pulled you into her lap. Your whole body went hot when her thigh flexed between your legs. "Sevika, what are you up to?"

Sevika grinned wolfishly as her hand grabbed your ass. "I'm about to kiss you. Tell me if you want me to stop." She wasn't exactly asking but she also didn't want to force this on you. When you didn't put up and resistance and tugged her a bit closer by her shirt, she leaned in to capture your lips. Like with everything else she couldn't be gentle, she didn't do gentle. The kiss was rough, passionate, with too much tongue for you who never kissed anyone before. "I'm gonna teach you how to do that better."

"Will you?" You asked all breathless and with wide pupils. One simple kiss made your whole body feel like fireworks were going off. "Better make up for you making fun of me."

Viktor was very perceptive of things that interested him. You were one of those things, even before you became his girlfriend he always listened when you talked about anything. It was his first clue that he liked was in love with you.

He noticed you always seemed to be looking down at his lips more than the things he was writing whenever he was explaining something. "You know, if you want to kiss me, it's as simple as asking." He teased as his fingers traced the pages; he was reading out to you.

"O-Oh. You noticed that did you?" You looked away at the big wall of notes behind him then back at his smiling, knowing face. "Who am I kidding, of course you did. Don't get me wrong, I want to kiss you, Viktor. But I'm also nervous because it'll be my first kiss." He closed the book, with a bit more of a thumping sound than it was warranted. As quickly as he could he crossed the distance between the two of you. His hand lifted yours to his lips.

As shy as he could be with his touches, sparing even, reserved, he found it very easy to touch you and it made your heart skip a few beats every time. Viktor was comfortable with you; he teased you like it was no big deal and would hold your hand when walking through the halls.

"I must confess, darling, I don't have much experience with kissing, or anything of a romantic or intimate nature. I've only been in a few precious relationships before. However, if you allow me, I would love to be your first kiss, today." He emetized the time with a kiss on your fingers, then your knuckles, then across your arm, your jaw. And finally... your lips.

"Do you want to be my first-" You couldn't ask anything more because you heard and saw Jayce drop the hammer he was holding on his foot and was now leaning against his desk, cursing under his breath. "Kiss. My first kiss, Jayce. Get your brilliant mind out of the gutter."

His cheeks got hot when your eyes met across the room. "Your first kiss. Uh... you never kissed anyone before now, babe? Sorry if it sounds like a dumb question but... how? I mean you're the most beautiful, amazing woman I know!"

When he finally put his foot down, confidant that it was okay to do so, he scratched the back of his neck, further adding to his confused look. You sighed. "Thank you for saying all of that. I suppose I wanted it to be special. You told me you've managed to find a breakthrough in your research, so I wanted to reward you, and myself." As you approached him, he got a big, dumb grin that stretched all over his face.

"I see. A reward. If I knew I'd be getting one I'd spend more sleepless nights here." He wrapped his arms around your body when you stepped close and pressed your bodies close.

"No, you wouldn't. I would drag you back to your bed if that's what I had to do to make you sleep properly." And you really would have done that. For right now though Jayce did a good job, and giving him your first kiss was a reward. Jayce approached you slowly, taking great care to be gentle when kissing you, to not get too carried away. He didn't, he kept it to a gentle, long kiss, but quickly got in a few more when you tried to pull away. "You giant dork."

Mel gave you a goodnight kiss but as soon as she felt you stiffen, she pulled back. She frowned when she noticed how nervous you looked. "What's the matter? Darling, are you cold? Your hands are shaking?" She ran her thumbs over the back of your hands.

"Nervous is more like it. That was my first kiss." You said with a shy smile and tried to go in for a second one. But this time Mel stopped you, her hand acting as a barrier between you two. "Hm? What?"

"Your first kiss. And you only tell me that after I've kissed you. Have I known I wouldn't have rushed into it." She sighed heavily and looked almost guilty. She kept replaying her interactions with you in her mind, you were very confident on your date, you flirted with her quite boldly too. And when you kissed her hand, she thought you wanted more.

"What? No, Mel, I'm happy my first kiss was with you! It was perfect!" You quickly spoke up to assure her. "If I didn't want it, I would have stopped you before. But holy crap, do you have any idea how much I wanted to kiss you?! I mean honestly, do you! I hardly worked up the nerve to ask you out tonight." You scratched your cheek nervously and avoided her eyes. This felt a little embarrassing to admit when you worked so hard to remain calm and project and air of confidence with her.

Chucking into her hand, Mel cupped your cheek with the other. "Is that so? If that's all then I'm glad. You don't have to pretend with me. I can assure you too, if I didn't like you, I wouldn't have said yes to our date. Much less kissed you. However, if you would allow it, I would like to re-do that kiss." Mel took your chin between her fingers and brushed her thumb against your lower lip, parting your lips just a bit before kissing you again.

[lookingforuravity]

THE ONLY EXCEPTION

♫ now playing - the only exception by paramore

bakugou x reader

word count: 1,827 words

IN WHICH each time your friends caught bakugou only being nice to you.

a/n: still 'fool for you' just changed the title (≧ω≦)

“i've never seen him so.. calm.”

“right? he's always so uptight.”

the two friends were peering over the couch as they watched bakugou and y/n sleep soundlessly. there was a serene look drawn on his face while he held y/n closely to him, her hand resting softly on his chest as their chests rose up and down simultaneously.

“how come he's so much nicer to her than any of us?” kirishima complained with a pout stitched on his lips. he'd been friends with bakugou way before (two months) him and y/n got together. where was his special treatment?

“they're dating duh. why wouldn't he be nice to her?” mina replied as gazed at the couple with a soft gaze in her eyes. their young, teenage love was truly admirable.

even if bakugou seemed to have a stick up his ass 24/7.

the couple twitched softly in their sleep. it had been a long and stressful day of endless amounts of training, and lord knew that they both needed a break. a thin blanket was all that covered their bodies, but anybody could make out the way bakugou held her waist and the way y/n laid her hand on his chest underneath the sheet.

the usually quiet library turned into a circus as it filled up with bakugou's grumbling, denki's whines, and y/n's giggling. the sight of bakugou repeatedly smacking denki on the head with rolled up paper was an entertaining sight to distract her from her note-taking.

“are you seriously this stupid?” bakugou growled as he peered over the blonde's notebook, erasing and scribbling over any mistakes he made. denki pouted while rubbing his head on the spot that bakugou smacked. “c'mon.. it's really not that easy!” denki whined.

bakugou's vermillion eyes narrowed at denki. “it's basic algebra! how did you even get this far if you can't do simple math?!” he snapped.

denki continued to pout as he grumbled under his breath, something about bakugou lacking basic respect.

“uh.. katsuki?” y/n called out hesitantly.

though he still kept the glare on his face, the way his body language softened was visible, and how his tone contrasted from denki to her was plain obvious. “what?”

she turned over her notebook towards him so he can see her work. “i think i did it wrong.. can you check it?”

bakugou grabbed her notebook and skimmed over her work. “yeah.. here, let me explain.” he leaned over closer to her, close enough to where she can smell caramel on his skin.

denki's mouth fell agape as he watched how the guy went from raising hell on him to looking like he was practically skipping in a field of flowers inside his head. “that is SO not fair! how come you're so much nicer to her than me?!”

“cause she's not an idiot! keep working!”

it was far past midnight, and it was already one thing that izuku couldn't sleep, but on an empty stomach? it made it far much worse. he tried everything in the book from counting sheep to counting his breaths, but nothing could beat his racing mind and the sound of his stomach growling.

izuku didn't want to disturb anyone, but would it really hurt if he just tip-toed to the common room? he sighed as he ran his hand through his curly green hair, quietly making his way to the kitchen to not wake anyone.

but as he walked through the common room, a taller figure appeared in front of him.

“GAH!” he yelped, hastily smacking a hand over his mouth as he realized how loud he'd screamed. “shoto!” he half-whispered. “what are you doing?!”

todoroki stood still, his expression unwavering. “i couldn't sleep.” his direction turned towards the kitchen. “i wanted to get a snack, but i think someone is in there.” he said.

that's odd. it was almost one in the morning, and the only people that izuku thought could be awake fell asleep ages ago. he asked todoroki who it was but he only shrugged, showing he only heard the person but never checked who it was.

he never thought he'd be met with the sight of bakugou resting his chin on y/n's shoulder as she made them snacks.

“at 12:47 in the morning? that's way past bakugou's bedtime…” todoroki muttered under his breath.

bakugou's tone was softer, softer than anyone had ever heard besides y/n herself. “you better not burn it.” he huffed.

y/n giggled, slightly turning her head to face his side profile. “i'm not going to burn our snacks,” she assured. “i'm an expert.”

“expert my ass.”

“hey!”

izuku and todoroki looked like a deer in headlights looking at the scene before them. they wanted to walk away, believe them, they really did. but the sight of bakugou being so domestic was such a rare and amusing sight to see.

“do we… leave?” izuku suggested.

“i don't know…” todoroki answered. “this is really weird.”

bakugou’s head shot up from her shoulder and turned to look at the two voices faster than the speed of light. his ruby eyes were narrowed as he glared them down as his lips curled. “the hell are you guys doing?”

izuku's hands flapped around in a panic. “w-we were just about to leave! i swear-”

“you're very affectionate, bakugou” todoroki said, as blunt as ever.

“shut up!” he yelled, his face turning as a red as a tomato and his hair puffed up. y/n giggled once again at the dramatic scene that laid in front of her. “do you guys want snacks too?” she offered.

“why are you giving our food to extras?” “suki!”

brutal wasn't even the word to describe today's training session. everyone was curled up on the ground, hands over their stomach as it even hurt to breathe. the sounds that filled the room were heavy breathing and complaints. and y/n— was nowhere to be found.

mina, jirou, and ochaco all wandered the hallways, a worried look etched on their face as they searched for their friend. “i'm really worried about her y'know.” mina was the first one to break the silence.

both girls nodded in agreement.

“so am i,” ochaco said. “she just disappeared right after training ended.”

the trio kept wandering the halls, looking in every corner and every turn where y/n could be hiding.

suddenly, through the glass window, they see their little y/c haired friend sitting on the bench, with her fingers intertwined on her lap and her head hung low.

“there she is!” jirou yelled, quickly running to the nearest door to go outside and get y/n while the other two girls trailed closely behind her.

but something made them stop dead in their tracks. the closer they got to the window, the more they were able to see someone elses silhouette sat next to her.

“is that bakugou?”

bakugou's arm was wrapped securely around y/n's shoulders, intently listening to her rambling about whatever she needed to get off her chest.

“i did really bad today.” she mumbled, her voice filled with sadness and frustration.

“and that’s okay.” bakugou comforted her. “one bad doesn't mean you suck. everyone has bad days.” he reassured her, rubbing light circles on her shoulders.

y/n shrugged, playing and picking at her fingers as they rested on her lap. “i just think i’m weak, y’know?” she mumbled once again.

“you're not- hey. look at me.” bakugou squished her cheeks and turned her head to face his. “stop. you think i'd be talking to you like this if you're so weak? hm?”

“no?” she muffled due to how much bakugou was squishing her face.

“exactly. you're strong, so stop putting yourself down because of one off day and keep training.”

“you're hurting my cheeks.”

bakugou let go of her face, lightly patting her cheeks as an apology. “my point is, one bad day doesn't mean you're weak. think about every other time you've kicked ass.”

y/n laughed softly, her face changing from what looked like a kicked puppy to her usual grin. “thank you suki.” she said.

“this is the cutest thing I've ever seen.” mina whispered while clenching her shirt where her heart is tightly.

“who knew the pomeranian could be such a romantic?” jirou teased as ochaco and mina giggled along side of her.

bakugou lightly ruffled the top of y/n's hair, lightly blushing from the way she looked at him with such a lovestruck glance. “you're strong. don't start with that ‘i'm weak’ shit cause i won't hear it.”

“you're so sweet when you want to be.”

“now you're pushing it.”

“why are you only nice to me?” the question caught katsuki off guard.

the couple had been in y/n's dorm room simply sitting in silence, with their legs entangled together and the light noise of the TV playing in the background.

he turned his head slightly to face her, their eyes meeting instantly as she was already looking at him so softly. “why wouldn't i be?” katsuki questioned as his fingers lightly played with her hair.

y/n shrugged, not having a response to his question. it just seemed out-of-character for him. he was the type of person to not let anyone change him, good or bad.

but the crude boy would come to be a puddle of sap when it came to her. even if it wasn't obvious verbally, the ways his eyes softened when they laid upon her was enough said.

“i asked you a question first.” she retorted.

katsuki exhaled sharply, his gaze turning from her to the ceiling as his heart rate sped up a bit. “you're just.. different.”

y/n's eyebrows raised slightly as a smirk stitched itself onto her face. she scooted closer to katsuki's side, leaning her head on his bicep as she stared lovingly at his side profile. “i'm.. different? there's more to that, isn't there?”

“of course there is. you just don't get to know that stuff right now.”

y/n knew that katsuki wasn't one to talk about his feelings. she wasn't looking to change that. but the simple thought of him just looking at her differently from the rest, like shes the only person in every room, made her heart flutter.

“don't think i'm getting soft though.” katsuki grumbled, an arm slipping around her waist as he pulled her impossibly closer.

“you're just… the only exception.”

©LOOKINGFORURAVITY 2024 | please do not copy, translate, or repost my work onto other

TAGLIST: @kaerotica @sweetlike-sugarplum @misfortvne @iridescencefae @awesomesauce-oo @kalulakunundrum

[landoughnut]

Made With Love

♡ masterlist - request - emoji anons

♡ pairing - max verstappen x fem!reader

♡ summary - while visiting your boyfriend working, why not bring a little surprise sign you made for him?

♡ warnings - blushy and in love max, drivers and fans teasing max, fluffffff

♡ w/c & a/n - 1.08k | IM BACK 🫶🏻 hehe sorry yall this isn't too great but I gotta get back into the groove so pls send in thoughts or requests bc my minds a blank canvas

Race weekends were always chaotic, but the energy in the paddock today was on another level. Fans packed the grandstands, waving flags, banners, and signs - some are more simple, some are memes of the drivers, yet they were all made with the same excitement for the race ahead.

And somewhere in that sea of people, standing right at the front, was you. Normally, you’d be in with Red Bull but you went over to the fans to join them for the time being. Some had given you bracelets and asked for pictures, which you happily agreed to. 

So here you stand, clutching a sign you had spent way too much time making the night before.

It wasn’t your fault, really. You had been up late, watching Max’s past races for “inspiration” (which was really just an excuse to admire him), when an idea popped into mind. With a few markers, a ridiculously pathetic and cheesy pun, glittery heart stickers, and maybe a questionable drawing of you two, you created what could only be described as likely the most embarrassing thing he would ever see before a race.

“DRIVE FAST BUT NOT TOO FAST, I HAVE PLANS FOR YOU LATER ;)”

You could already imagine his reaction - probably an exasperated sigh, followed by that little smirk he always gave you when he pretended to be unimpressed but was actually very much an attempted cover up of how he falls deeper in love with you. 

The drivers started their walk to the grid, and your raced just a little bit when you spotted him looking impossibly handsome. Max looked calm - focused, sharp, already in his zone - but you knew him well enough to see the tiny traces of nerves beneath the surface. 

As they passed by, you lifted the sign above your head and glanced at some of the fans around you who giggled when they read it.

It took him a second, but then he stopped.

He just… stood there, staring at the sign like he wasn’t sure whether to laugh or melt into the asphalt. His mouth was parting and closing again, unsure of how to react, but you just gave him your perfect smile and it made his heart flutter. His ears went pink first, then the blush crept up his neck, blooming across his cheeks.

“Oh, for f-” Max muttered under his breath, rubbing his temple, but the amused smile on his face betrayed him.

And that’s when the teasing began.

Lando cackled loud enough for the entire grid to hear. “Oh, this is GOLD!”

Before Max could escape, Lando slung an arm around his shoulder, grinning like he’d just won the championship. “So, what’re these ‘plans’ about, mate? Anything we should be worried about? Should we clear the podium early?”

“Do we need to tell Christian?” Charles chimed in, barely holding back his laughter. “You know, just in case he needs to schedule some extra… recovery time for you.”

A chorus of laughter followed. Max groaned, dragging a hand down his face, but the pink on his cheeks only deepened. “You’re all the worst,” he grumbles.

Meanwhile, the nearby fans had caught on fast.

“Oh my god, he’s BLUSHING,” one girl gasped, tugging her friend’s arm.

“He’s practically making heart eyes, how adorable,” another comments, phone already in hand and recording the scene.

Max, looking positively doomed, glanced at you - a mix of betrayal, affection, and desperate pleading. But you? You just continued to smile sweetly with a tilted head.

“You like it.”

“I hate it.”

“You’re literally blushing.”

“I’m warm.”

“Mhm,” you roll your eyes and chuckle.

The teasing didn’t stop as he pulled out his phone and snapped a quick picture of your masterpiece, grumbling something about “evidence to haunt me later.” But before he walked away, he pointed at you, eyes narrowed.

“You’re lucky I love you.”

Your heart did a little flip and you grinned. “Oh, I know.”

And just like that, he was gone, back into the pre-race frenzy - but not before stealing one last loving glance at you over his shoulder.

Later on, the celebration was loud and chaotic. Max had finished on the podium - not a win, but a damn good race - and when he finally found you in the paddock, you barely had time to react before he crashed into you, arms wrapping tight around your waist.

“Enjoy the show?” he asked, voice still breathless with adrenaline.

“Loved it. Thought you might’ve forgotten about my sign, though.”

“Oh, trust me,” he groaned, pulling back just enough to look at you. “Hard to forget when the im being tagged in posts of it nonstop.”

Your brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

He sighed dramatically before pulling out his phone. Everywhere, Twitter, Instagram, TikTok, was flooded with clips from earlier.

Fan tweets scrolled across the screen:

“THE WAY HE STOPPEDDDD LOOK AT HIM. HE’S A GONER”

“If my future man doesn’t hold up a sign like this for me, I don’t want him”

“This man is so down baddd LOOK AT THE BLUSH”

“MAX VERSTAPPEN ‘I’M WARM’ CHALLENGE (IMPOSSIBLE)”

You bit your lip, trying (and failing) not to laugh. “I mean… they’re not wrong,” you poke his cheek.

Max groaned, pressing his forehead against yours. “You’re never making a sign again,” he says, although you both know he doesn’t mean it.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, swaying slightly. “Oh, baby, you know that’s a lie.”

Before he could argue, you kissed him, soft at first, teasing. But then he tilted his head, deepening it, fingers pressing into your waist like he didn’t care that people were watching.

Somewhere in the background, some group of fans started shouting.

“Oh my goshh, he’s in love!.”

“Life is so unfair! Where’s my Max?”

When you finally pulled away, breathless, he was grinning like a lovestruck idiot.

“You’re ridiculous,” he muttered, thumb brushing over your cheek.

“And you love it.”

His gaze flickered to your lips, then back to your eyes. “Yeah,” he whispered. “That I do.”

Later, when you made it back to his driver’s room, you caught him slipping the sign into his bag, folding it carefully like it was something worth keeping.

“… You’re keeping that?” you asked, amused.

He shot you a look. “Shut up.” You didn’t push it. But you did smile. He bites his lip, placing it into his pocket, knowing that no matter how many trophies he collects, this - you - might just be his favorite thing he’d ever won.

[fangel]

ohmygosh… you’ve done it (∩´﹏`∩)♡ my rambles ･⁀➴

i’d like to start with WHATTHEFUCKKK the concept alone is so good, so unique — I LIVE AND LOVE to find dark fics that are actually different from the ‘oh he’s a serial killer blah blah omg the nth scream slasher inspo blah blah’ NO GIVE ME PASSION, GIVE ME A MAN WHO IS TRULY LOST IN HIS WAYS W/ HIS MIND CRUMBLING IN ON ITSELF BC HES SO OBSESSED SO GONE !! GIVE ME REASON AS TO WHYYY HE IS A MESS !! you delivered that 🤍 !!

the way he has this dominance over her even without being there: picking out her clothes, specific preference to hair and makeup, surrounding her with his work--the dolls of her that can never quite be her no matter how hard he tries--aka the constant reminder of his afflicted obsession !!!! AHHH and she feels so has to maintain that perfection to keep his best interest to the point it's all she knows even tho disgusted !!!!

at first i was lowkey mad at him bc why are you spending all day trying to make a doll that looks like (me) her when the real thing is right at home !?!? but after reading i get it. he's just a sick fuck who is scared of the perfect love being gone one day. he's so desperate to hold onto the idea that he needs to preserve it, keep it forever. tbh.. #NeedThat level of obsession

okay ngl when she talks about the dolls and how they move and watch her etc i was like oh no she's gone schizo.. she's going crazy being cooped up at home with all those lookalike dolls -- BUT NO THEY'RE LIKE ACTUALLY MOVING ANDF SHIT?!?! wth and then i was like wait are they real people !? spirits !? THE HUMMING -- and then the missing girls that look like her on tv.. him being gone all the time.. okay i see you sunghoon. i know what you are

the dollhouse. just that. the dollhouse. how it depicts what's happening WOW ! such a cool twisted way to incorporate how she slowly puts things together. reminds me of until dawn with the dollhouse in the basement -- and more on the dolls, people or spirits whatever the hell, NO they are lil guardian angels trying to save her !! to warn her of what is really happening !!

the smut. HELLO???!/ the smut is a world in its own. absolutely insane but in a beautiful way. should i be scared? yeah, but i am Horny instead. break me apart !! mold me, shatter me, recreate me however you want just keeping fucking me with those glasses on dgasgfksgfa but fr... there's so much hidden tellings even in the smut. she's begging him to release that darkness he harbors onto her, telling him 'to do it' but doesn't realize the weight of her words and what's she's telling him to do. the way the darkness stirs in him, indirectly getting her permission to indulge on his twisted desires of having her as his REAL DOLL. crazy. all out of love they're both losing themselves yet getting what they want. (the audience stands and applauds)

"the experiment" and the dolls all being trial and error... fucking insane. i love everything about this so bad. his dedication.. his oath..

"Your husband liked to dissect things. He liked to break things apart and put them back together all shiny and new. -- You didn’t care, you just liked the feeling of his hands on you, even if its intention was to destroy."

⤷ LOVED THIS, i feel like this sets up the whole story right here.

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

⤷ the way that this is literal... at night in workshop with literal doll parts and in bed with her she's breaking apart under his hold. wow. also doll parts by hole mention !!

her in the beginning "These days, you just wanted to be." and then sunghoon in the end "It just is"

⤷ chefs kiss, perfect. idk what else needs to be said.

the concept reminds so much of an old rpg game called "mad father" i was OBSESSED with it when i was younger and you've allowed me to escape in a (loosely) similar world. ily for this

dear kipo, your attention to details and way of storytelling is so wonderous and amazing. you've captivated me in this horribly perfect lil world. such a fucked up, pretty story. you are so so talented!! i could dissect the whole story tbh but i need to stfu

one last thing hdfjakhfkas this is so long im sorry but PLEASE listen to this song. i've had the artist on repeat for like 2 weeks and this song reminds me of this story SOOSO MUCh pls tell me what you think >.<

anyways <3 i ate this tf up. ty for your service 🍽️ !!

THE DOLLMAKER ˒˒ 박성훈 ▸  𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗒𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍 𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲!

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)♡

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.

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.

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.

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.”

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.”

[ 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 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 ﹚ @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.

[witchywithwhiskey]

Alright, Molly, let’s try this again ❤️

What if I say Lloyd Hansen and 1-800-Cupid? 😌 Does that strike your fancy?

be my cupid

pairing: boyfriend!lloyd hansen x female reader

summary: when your boyfriend is away on a work trip for valentine's day, you have a plan to make it special. but then he surprises you with an even more exciting present that you weren't expecting.

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), smut, piv sex, unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk, light bdsm, light dom/sub, sir kink, praise kink, finger sucking, aftercare, pet names, established relationship, some insecurity from reader and reassurance from lloyd

word count: 3.1k

a/n: i'm so happy you sent in the "1-800-Cupid" prompt!! i was hoping someone would because it seemed so fun. i really like the idea i came up with for this one—and i think it works perfectly with lloyd! thank you for playing my sweethearts game, i hope you enjoy ♡♡

“Thank you for calling 1-800-Cupid,” you trilled into the phone, unable to bite back the smile that had spread across your face when you saw the name Lloyd Hansen appear on the screen. “I’m your personal cupid, here to connect you with your true love.”

“My ‘true love’?” The familiar voice on the other end of the line scoffed with an ungentlemanly snort. 

You could practically hear the whiskers of his mustache twitch as his mouth twisted into a playful sneer. Indignantly, you sat up in your bed. 

“Don’t you dare scoff at me, Lloyd Hansen,” you scolded, even going so far as to give your phone a little glare when you knew there was no way for the man on the other end to actually see your expression. After all, you were sitting in your bed, alone in your apartment, while he was half a world away on some business trip. 

“I’m sorry, cupcake, I’m sorry,” Lloyd said soothingly, managing to sound genuinely contrite and teasingly playful all at the same time. 

You rolled your eyes with affection—it was a feat only Lloyd could manage. But it did the trick and you settled back into the pillows on your bed, playing with the edge of your sweater while you huffed a sigh. 

It took you a moment to get back into character, glancing at the short script you’d prepared as part of the surprise you’d planned.

“Now, why are you calling today, sir?” you asked in your best professionally cheerful customer service voice.

“Well, I found a mysterious card in my jacket, with your number on it,” Lloyd said, mirth filling his tone even as he tried to play along. “You don’t think my girlfriend could’ve had something to do with it, do you? D’you think she’s trying to get rid of me?” 

It took all your effort to stifle a hopeless giggle. You could always count on Lloyd to make you laugh, even when you were sad about the fact that he wasn’t there with you.

It was your first Valentine’s Day together, but he’d had to go away on a work trip, and you’d come up with a little plan to make the holiday special when you weren’t able to be together. But he kept distracting you. 

You took a moment to collect yourself, Lloyd waiting patiently on the other end of the line, seemingly just happy to be on the phone with you, which made you all the more eager to get on with your plan. 

“I don’t know anything about that…” you said primly, trying to keep your mouth from curving into a smile and utterly failing. So you moved on, blurting out the next part of your script. “Would you like me to send a photo of the true love you’ve been matched with, sir?”

“You keep calling me sir, sunshine, and you’re going to be getting a photo of my hard dick,” Lloyd muttered, sounding like he was palming the bulge in his pants already. 

Your breath hitched in your throat, warmth cascading down through your body and settling heavily between your thighs, wetness beginning to gather in your panties. It was on the tip of your tongue to beg him to send the photo, so you’d have something to touch yourself to when he inevitably needed to go and attend to the work that had taken him out of the country.

But you shook yourself and persevered with your plan. “Lloyd,” you admonished, your voice a little breathy despite your best efforts. “Do you want the photo or not?” 

“Sure, princess, send me the photo,” he said. Affection was clear in his tone, which made you soften just a bit. 

Pulling the phone away from your ear, you tapped on the screen until you pulled up the photos you’d had taken in a boudoir photoshoot. They were Valentine’s Day themed, with your body swathed in red and white lingerie, surrounded by rose petals and soft silk sheets. In your hands, you held a pink, plastic bow and arrow, making you look like a particularly sexy cupid.

Biting back a grin and a sound of excitement, you sent your favorite of the photos to Lloyd, then quickly replaced your phone against your ear, holding your breath while you waited with eager anticipation for his reaction.

You were rewarded a few seconds later with a choked groan and a muttered curse from your boyfriend. If you didn’t know any better, you might’ve thought he was in pain, but then his lust-soaked voice filled your ears.

“Fuck, angel, look at you,” he cooed down the line, sending little shivers of delight racing beneath your skin. “You look so fucking gorgeous—so perfect and pretty and…” He trailed off, his words dissolving into another restrained groan, like he was biting his hand to muffle the sound. “Is this all for me? Is this my Valentine’s Day present, sweets?” 

“Yeah,” you said softly, almost shyly, unable to wipe the grin off your face. The rest of your words left you in a rush of excitement. “Do you like it? I wanted to give you something you’d like even though you’re on your work trip.”

“I love it, buttercup,” Lloyd purred. 

His deep voice made you shiver with a desire that you knew was going to go unslaked until your boyfriend got home. No matter how much phone sex the two of you had, it was never quite as satisfying as having Lloyd with you in person, bending you over and taking you hard and deep…

Lloyd kept talking then, distracting you from your dirty thoughts with a surprise of his own.

“I got you something, too, pumpkin. Open your door.”

Excitement shot through your body and you bounced eagerly off your bed. You didn’t think much of his words, it wasn’t uncommon for Lloyd to send you little presents while he was on his work trips—coffee and pastries delivered to your door in the mornings to help you start your day, some jewelry or a book in the evenings because he was thinking of you. 

“Oohh, did you get me flowers, Lloyd Hansen?” you chattered happily, padding through your apartment to the front door. “Some chocolates? One of those giant stuffed teddy bears?” You paused, glancing around your cramped and cozy space, wondering where you would even put a giant teddy bear. 

Your boyfriend just chuckled softly on the other end of the line, not giving anything away. Your excitement to know what he’d gotten you rushed back in, and you turned to the door again, eager to see what he’d sent you.

Flinging open the front door of your apartment, you were stunned to find not flowers or chocolates or a teddy bear, but Lloyd Hansem himself. He wore a familiar smirk on his handsome face, his blue eyes glittering with mischief in the fluorescent lights of the hallway, his phone still held up to his ear. 

“LLOYD!” you screamed, your phone slipping from your fingers and tumbling loudly to the floor as you launched yourself at your boyfriend. “You’re here.” The words came out much softer as you buried your face in the crook of his neck, breathing in the familiar, spicy scent of his cologne. 

“Did you really think I’d let you spend our first Valentine’s Day alone?” he teased you playfully, one of his arms banding around your back while his other hand cupped the back of your head, holding you tightly against his chest. He walked you backward into your apartment, kicking the door shut behind him. “There’s nowhere I’d rather be than right here with you, muffin.”

His words filled your heart with joy, and you wrapped your arms tighter around his shoulders, clinging to his big, strong form while he slowly twirled the two of you around, like you were dancing to a silent slow song. You were so happy, it took you a moment for reality to crash back down around you. 

“But I wasn’t expecting you,” you whined into Lloyd’s neck, remembering that your face was entirely bare of makeup and you were wearing the same thing you’d had on all week—a pair of leggings and one of Lloyd’s shirts, even though his cologne had long since worn off. “I’m not pretty right now,” you mumbled, hiding your face against Lloyd’s throat.

Lloyd gently eased you away from his body, having to pry your clinging arms loose, so he could rake his eyes over your bare face. He smiled, his mustache twitching a little, and his blue eyes sparkled with nothing but genuine affection. 

“You’re gorgeous just like this, pretty girl,” he cooed, ducking forward and pressing a kiss to your lips. Then he brushed kisses to your cheeks and forehead, even dropping a kiss to the tip of your nose, making you giggle. “You make a very sexy cupid, but you’re always my gorgeous girl.”

“Thank you, Lloyd,” you said on a soft sigh of contentment, dragging him in for a proper kiss.

His mustache tickled your upper lip in the way that you’d grown to crave, and you moaned at the familiar, delicious taste of your boyfriend. Pulling him even closer with your fingers curled around the lapels of his jacket, you kissed him harder, pouring all the affection and happiness you felt about having him home into the way your mouth moved against his.

Kissing you back just as fervently, Lloyd walked you backward until you were pressed against the wall in your living room. He crowded in around you, pinning you to the wall with his big, hard body, his bulge jutting into your belly while he deepened the kiss, coaxing a burning inferno of need to life within you.

Before long, you were pushing impatiently at his jacket, wordlessly whining for him to take it off. Lloyd was only too happy to oblige, shedding the garment and tugging his shirt over his head, his mouth finding yours again for another hot, searing kiss.

His fingers hooked in the waistband of your leggings, shoving them down over your hips and thighs so you could kick them off. Then his hands came up to cup your face, cradling your head while he licked into your mouth, fucking you with his tongue until you were whimpering, desperately needing him to fill another of your holes. 

Quickly, Lloyd toed out of his shoes and stripped off his pants, leaving him in only a pair of boxer briefs, while you still wore a sweater and your panties. Glancing down at your shirt before he went back to kissing you, Lloyd’s hands pushed beneath your sweater, his fingers finding the soft flesh of your tits and kneading until you were breaking away to moan. 

“Is this my shirt?” Lloyd asked in a low, rumbling voice that was soaked with lust and a little hint of humor. He pressed hungry, nipping kisses along your jaw, pinching your nipples and making you squirm between his hard, unyielding body and the wall at your back. 

“Yeah,” you answered on a gasp. “I missed you,” you confessed, your hands curling around his bare shoulders, clinging to the muscles bunching beneath his warm skin while your head tipped back against the wall and you let out a low, keening whine. 

Lloyd made a gruff sound in the back of his throat, pulling away so he could look you in the eye. Your head was still tipped back, though, so he cupped your jaw in his hand and tilted it forward, his thumb running along your plump lower lip. 

You took the tip into your mouth and nipped playfully before sucking on Lloyd’s thumb, staring up at your boyfriend with half-lidded eyes. You watched while his gaze darkened, his pupils blowing wide with a lustful hunger that made your body clench tight with anticipation. 

“I missed you too, baby cakes,” he rumbled, ducking his head to brush a kiss to the corner of your mouth. His mustache tickled and you giggled, turning your head and letting his thumb fall from your lips so you could kiss your boyfriend.

The kiss quickly turned heated again and it felt like both of you suddenly remembered how long it had been since you’d been joined together in the most primal way possible. There was an urgency in your movements as you impatiently tugged your boyfriend’s boxer briefs down, palming his cock while he tugged your sweater off and shoved your panties down your legs.

“Lloyd, please, I need you,” you gasped, wrenching your lips from his to suck in some much-needed air. The fingers of your free hand curled in the hair at the back of his head, clinging to him while stroked his cock, your thigh lifting and trying to curl around his hip. “Need your cock inside me, need you to fill me up, sir, please.”

“Fuck, alright, alright, lollipop—you want my cock, you’ll get it,” Lloyd rumbled, his hand grabbing your raised thigh and lifting it higher. His fingers dug into your plush softness while he hooked it around his hip and you guided his cock to your entrance. “Take it, honey bee, take your man’s cock.”

You sank down on Lloyd’s cock while he pressed into you, filling you up in one smooth stroke that had your head falling back against the wall and a filthy moan spilling from your lips. You weren’t quite wet enough to take him easily, but you enjoyed the slight burn and the ache of being stretched around his hard length too much to complain. 

“You’re so fucking gorgeous, doll face, looking so fucking blissed out on my cock,” Lloyd said on a grunt, pulling out slightly and pushing in again, making you both moan. “I could get used to this—coming home to you and filling your cunt while your body clings to me, sucking me deeper.” 

“Yes, yes, please, sir, I want that,” you babbled, the words falling from your lips and finding you did want it. You wanted Lloyd coming home to you every day, fucking you over the nearest surface and reminding you who you belonged to every night. “I want you filling me every day, fucking me, taking what’s yours.”

Lloyd chuckled, the sound deliciously sinful while he rocked into your body, fucking you against the wall of your apartment ruthlessly. All you could do was cling to him, your fingers curling in his hair, nails digging into the back of his neck while you held on for the ride.

“You want me to take what’s mine, sweet pea? Are you mine, sweet girl?” he teased mercilessly, fucking you even harder. 

It was on the tip of your tongue to say yes, you were his, but then Lloyd changed the angle of his hips. The base of his cock rubbed meanly against your clit with every thrust and you cried out loudly, your back arching away from the wall and your hips bearing down on his cock as you barreled toward your release.

“Lloyd,” you gasped, barely able to get the words out, “I’m gonna cum.”

“Do it, cutie, cum for me,” Lloyd urged, fucking you in hard thrusts, pausing between each to grind against your clit  “Be a good girl and show me you’re mine, honey pie—cum all over my cock.” 

Between his commanding words and the relentless grinding of his hips, his cock buried to the hilt in your soaking wet pussy, it was too much. Your release crashed over you, making you scream in pleasure while you came on Lloyd’s cock, your inner walls clenching hard enough around him to make him grunt. 

With a few more short, hard thrusts, Lloyd followed you over the edge, burying his face in your neck and muffling a loud groan against your skin as he spilled inside you. Your pussy squeezed every last drop of cum from his length, the two of you collapsing against the wall at your back as you caught your breath and rode out the aftershocks of your releases.

Once you recovered enough to move, the two of you stumbled down the hall toward your bedroom, taking a quick detour to the bathroom to clean up before tumbling into bed together. Lloyd had snagged his shirt from where he’d dropped in your living room and he pulled it over your head, swaddling you in his scent before pulling you close to cuddle.

Your boyfriend lay on his back, your body splayed across his chest, your ear pressed to his sternum while you listened to the steady beat of his heart. After a short time of enjoying each other’s presence, you raised your head, your eyes greedily raking over Lloyd’s handsome face while your fingers played idly with his mustache. 

“Thank you for cutting your trip short,” you murmured softly, your eyes fixed on Lloyd’s mouth, watching the corners flicker with a smile. “I really didn’t expect you to that just for Valentine’s Day.” 

“I did it for you, sweetheart,” Lloyd purred, his fingers closing around your wrist and bringing your fingers to his lips, pressing kisses to the pads of each one until you looked up into his eyes. His gaze was filled with so much affection, it made your breath catch in your throat. He murmured, “I love you.”

It was the first time either of you had said those words and you were surprised by the rush of emotion that flooded your heart when you heard them. Tears pricked at your eyes and you quickly dashed them away. 

“I love you, too, Lloyd,” you murmured, pulling your hand away from his mouth so you could replace it with your lips. You kissed him hard, and he did the same, banding an arm around your lower back and cradling your head while he rolled on top of you. 

When he started kissing down your neck, you tipped your head to the side and let out a delighted giggle at the way his mustache tickled your skin. You felt like you were bubbling with happiness, and you couldn’t help the words that came out of your mouth. 

“So I guess I really did match you with your true love, didn’t I?” you teased playfully, enjoying the way Lloyd laughed against your skin, making your pulse pump harder through your body. “Another satisfied cupid customer,” you joked, your legs wrapping around Lloyd’s hips and squirming beneath his hardening cock.

“Oh I’m very satisfied,” Lloyd said, lifting up to capture your lips in another kiss. His hips rocked between your thighs, grinding his cock against your soft pussy, making both of you moan at the pleasurable slide of your bodies. “You can be my cupid anytime, sugar pie, as long as you’re the one I end up with.”

“Always,” you purred, clinging to Lloyd while he slid inside you again. Then he was stealing your breath with another kiss, fucking you in slow strokes, savoring your body and murmuring his love against your lips. 

All told, it was the first of many happy Valentine’s Days with your boyfriend—and future husband—Lloyd Hansen.

[saintobio]

☆ sorry for disappearing…

when i decided to put my blog on private, it was the only solution i could think of to end my dilemma. a dilemma that sprung from the anxiety i get whenever i log into tumblr, realizing i’m keeping people waiting over an update that hasn’t happened in almost a year. i wish there was a better way to describe how i felt, but there’s just so much pressure and anxiety that accompany a writer who has an on-going series of a popular jjk character.

if you’ve been with me since 2021, you probably know the struggles i faced before i ultimately left my blog archived. back then, i never imagined i would return to running this blog. but it was my love for writing that brought me back, hoping i could start fresh as long as i knew how to set boundaries between myself and the people consuming my fics. and i could say, all was going well, until…

until i get daily messages about how it’s taking me so long to update a certain series, how i’m writing too much for another fandom, how i’m never fulfilling my promises of posting an update. it must be the trauma, but the unease of existing on tumblr began to build up inside me, reminding me of the days when i was made to feel like i did something wrong for simply posting. with that, i had grown paranoid, thinking that every time i check my notes, there would always be one or two person sending me the most ridiculous messages/comments.

i never realized just how much my experience in 2021 scarred me ‘til this day.

and the only remedy i could think of was to escape. or hide. or be unseen. for my peace of mind, for the silence. all while thinking no one’s really going to notice.

but logging in again made me realize that there are people i’ve disappointed for my sudden disappearance, people who wished me nothing but good things, people who genuinely supported me in and out of this blog, people who appreciate my works even if i’m no longer as active. to those people, i want to say i’m sorry, and that i assure you that i’m doing better.

however, i also hope that i’m not just seen as the writer who only wrote sincerely not. i hope that i’m given the same amount of support and liberty to write for characters and stories that i’m equally passionate about. wherever my hyper-fixations take me, i hope i’m not treated as if i’ve abandoned what my blog was known for. i never wanted to feel caged by writing only sn/sy. i need the space to explore other characters, other genres, before i lose myself in the pressure of just producing.

if you’re still here, thank you. i can’t promise to be fully back, but i’ll take it one step at a time.

love, saint.

[channieskies]

L O S E R [HJS]

♫ Pairing: Han Jisung × Reader [F] ♫ Summary: His father disapproves of his life choices, and it subsequently causes a rift between the two of them. Jisung only has one person he feels he can rely on, his best friend. With hopes of becoming one of the biggest rockstars that ever lived, he embarks on a journey to fulfill his life dreams. Will he make his dreams come true with his friend by his side, or will he even sacrifice friendship to live out his fantasy's? ♪ WC: 19.7k [READING TIME: 40-60 MINS] ♪ AU: Highschool, Rockstar ♪ Genre: Angst, Smut, Fluff (adjacent), Friends to (??) ♪ Nets: @neverendingdreams-net & @mirohs-aurora-society ♫ A.N: I started writing this over a year ago (Nov 2023) and I've been writing on it little by little since then. When the "Hold My Hand" mv came out, I got burst of inspiration I needed to finish this. I took a while to finish, but it's here. This has not been proofread. Please reblog and leave a comment to let me know how you feel. I'd love a little feedback. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it. Special thanks to @therhythmafterthesummer thanks for rooting for me with this one. I don't think I could have finished it without your encouragement. Dividers by @saradika-graphics ♫ Disclaimer: This story does not reflect the real lives or personalities of Stray Kids. I do not know them personally. This is purely a work of fiction. ♫ Warnings: MINORS DNI! This post contains nsfw material. Please do not interact with it if you are under the age of 18. Unprotected sex (Be safe and wrap it up. This is fiction, a controlled narrative. I make the rules. Life isn't that simple, so be safe), creampie (semi), cum shot, slight degradation (male receiving), slight femdom/sub (male) dynamics, choking, cum play, cum eating, spiting, hair pulling (male receiving). Do not translate or repost here or on other sites. This chapter contains use of explicit language.

Loser, 외톨이, 센 척하는 겁쟁이 못된 양아치, 거울 속의 넌 Just a loser, 외톨이, 상처뿐인 머저리 더러운 쓰레기, 거울 속의 난, I'm a...

The words resounded in the back of Jisung's mind as he continued to feel the kicks and punches from his classmates. See, with him, you either liked him or you didn't. Sadly, there didn't seem to be an in-between. There was no indifference and there didn't seem to be many that liked him, either. He had a handful of acquaintances, but only one good, true friend. She was the light of his life, that and music. In times like this, when he was beaten and battered, cast out, and torn down by the world, he knew that if he just held on, she'd be there. 

There to comfort him, there to lift him up, there to hold his hand and tell him that it gets better. That's what he had to hold on to, “it gets better.” The promise of that alone gave him enough hope that he'd get through these tumultuous teenage years and one day look back at this and consider it a learning experience. Just something he could mark off as a growth exercise. At least that's what he hoped. He hoped to turn all the shity life struggles into art. His words, his life, his voice. He refused to be a loser.

Jisung wanted nothing more in life than to play his music for the people who appreciated it. For the most part that meant that he was playing it for a crowd of one, you. But he didn’t mind if the venue wasn’t fancy, or if it was just one person taking in the songs that he performed. Just the look of pure joy on your face from listening to his voice, gave him enough hope that one day he could do this on a larger scale. He just hoped that you would be one of the smiling faces when he looked out at the crowd.

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Prestige, influence, wealth. Was that really something worth betting your life and sanity on? According to his parents it was absolutely worth it. Those things were the reason the Han's were where they were in life and they would bite their tongues and die before ever going back to being poor and worthless. At least that's how his father saw things. “Jisung, you have to listen to your father. All he wants is for you to have a good life. Not waste it away-”

“Id waste away staying here. Mom…” He stopped throwing things in his bag to hold his mothers hands, to look her in the eyes. He wanted her, if no one else in this house, to understand why he had to leave. It wasn't about the constant fights with his father, or even the fact that he just couldn’t and probably would never live up to what his older brother had become. He wasn’t built for the life that his parents had set up for him. It physically pained him to even think of himself trapped in the box of boring, yet successful, that his parents wanted to fit him into.

No, he just felt unfulfilled, dead inside. He was slowly rotting away with every breath he took under the rule of his fathers thumb. “I can't let him dictate what should and should not make me happy. Music is everything to me, you know this. So please, just let me go. You know I can't survive here.” He dropped his head, looking at the floor, “He'll kill everything about me.. until there is no use in being alive.” He had made up his mind. Despite the comfort that being home provided him, he’d rather take his chances out on the streets than endure one more moment trapped inside of this amenity filled mansion.

His mother gasped. Just the thought of her baby not being on this earth anymore, crushed her. She pulled her son into a hug for what might be the last time. “There is money in my purse, take that with you. Okay?” She grabbed his face, taking in her son's features. She caressed his chubby cheeks and placed kisses on both. “I love you. Forever and always.” The front door slammed downstairs, alerting them to his father's arrival. The panic set in on both his and his mothers faces.

Oftentimes Mr. Han seemed like he hated Jisung, his own son, just like he hated people who weren't in the same social economic class as him. They had no drive or ambition according to him, no will to make their life better, to be better. As if people didn’t fall on hard times, or suffer from any mental illnesses, making it hard for them to keep a job. He was a hypocrite. Jisung’s grandfather didn’t keep a steady job for years, and the jobs he had were very low income. He provided for his family as best he could, but apparently people like that were scum to Jisung's father. Being poor and struggling were things that his father had long left behind. Along with things like passion, empathy, and even love.

“HAN JI SUNG! GET DOWN HERE THIS INSTANT.” Jisung's heart quickened with the sound of his fathers angry, booming voice. His anxiety was starting to kick in, his breathing picked up, just as his extremities started to lightly shake. He had to have heard about Jisung's outburst in school today, which resulted in the cops being called to his prestigious catholic high school. With his fathers position in the Mayors office, of course this news made it to him. The police probably went and told him the news themselves. This wasn't going to be good. 

“Go out the back, I'll distract him.” She kissed his forehead and headed down the stairs, swiftly. Jisung stuffed all the clothes he could into his duffle, and started out the door, just to stop in his tracks. Next to his bed was a picture of him and his best friend. The one person who could get him through anything. From breakups and heartbreak to bouts of depression, they had been through almost everything together. He grabbed the frame and carefully stuffed it into the bag. 

“I know he's here! Move out my way woman!” He pushed past his wife, physically moving the small woman out of his way. Jisung could hear his fathers heavy footsteps as he made his way up the grand staircase in the foyer. Panic began to flow through the young boy's body. Making sure the coast was clear, he headed out into the hall from his room. The nearest exit of sorts was way at the end of the hall, two whole bedrooms and a bathroom away from his little corner room upstairs. 

He wasn’t much of a runner, even if he was considered to be quick, but he put all of the techniques he’d learned in physical education to work, sprinting down the hall. He made it to his brother's old room and out onto the balcony. Even though he was deathly afraid of heights, this was his only option, if he wanted to escape. It was fight or flight, and he was sure if he tried to fight his dad he’d die. His dad was filled with rage at the current moment and that did not bode well for Jisung. All he could see over the edge was the garden that bordered the pool. 

His mothers pretty array of hibiscus flowers and the cherry blossom tree that sat not far from the window, well manicured and perfect, just like everything else in the Han family’s life. He could hear his father nearing closer, his booming voice filling the large halls and bouncing off the walls, even with the constant pitter patter of his fast beating heart. It was now or never. He closed his eyes, the voice of his best-friend rang through his head, “You can do anything you put your mind to, Ji.” It was like her words gave him wings. That was all the reassurance he needed. 

Just as his father burst through the door to his brother's room, Jisung took the leap. He landed on the bushes below with a loud thud. His father's head peaked over the balcony. “You better stay right where you are, young man.” There was a small tinting of something else besides anger and disdain on his fathers face. 

But Jisung didn’t have the time to try and decipher it as his father made his way back into his brother’s room. No, if he didn’t want to face whatever was coming his way via his fathers slightly justified anger, he needed to go. Jisung hurried to his feet, running out the back gate of their sprawling mansion grounds, never to look back again. 

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“Shit…” He'd been roaming for hours now. The afternoon had turned into evening. The beautiful blue tinted sky shifted into pinks and purples and now it was just pitch black. He had nowhere to go. His feet hurt, his stomach hadn’t stopped grumbling since he got a few miles away from home, and he was terribly tired. Then there also was the fact that he had stupidly left the money his mother wanted him to have, right where she told him it was. He was broke and homeless. Not the best combination at the young age of eighteen. But most had survived worse. At least that's what that weird side of youtube and tik tok said. He was sure he would make it too. At least that's what he hoped.

He walked aimlessly until the streets started to look familiar. The houses were smaller than the ones in his- well his parents neighborhood, but that didn’t make them small. The mini mansions had long curving driveways and tall fences to keep the riff raff out. Well, guess you could say he was the riff raff now. 

He was a delinquent with an extensive record. Trespassing, disorderly conduct, disturbing the peace, failure to disperse, affray, unlawful assembly, and resisting arrest, the last two were tacked on today. The other charges had been adding up since his fifteenth birthday. The only reason he was a free man was the simple fact that he was a Han. He knew that, and it ate away at his core.

Well manicured lawns with expensive cars in the park. This was your side of town. Your family was quite well off as well, just in a different way. Building on the wealth that your maternal grandfather had built for your family. Your parents weren’t as power thirsty as his father was. But that wasn’t saying that they didn’t take your future success in life very seriously. They did. Your schedule was often packed to the brim with extracurriculars and volunteering, just to make sure that your high school resume made it easier for you to get into a good university.

He recognized your street name and he took off in a sprint. Trying to hurry his way to your house. He needed to see you. He needed reassurance for you that he did the right thing by running away. Because without your words of encouragement, he doubted he’d be able to survive the night, let alone live like this. He’d just have to tuck his tail between his legs and go back home to receive whatever punishment his father deemed appropriate. He had nearly a block to go when the familiar sound of sirens and the look of security lights stopped him in his tracks. “Where are you headed to, son?” Jisung sighed. He didn’t need this right now.

“My friend lives on the next block.” 

The guard got out of his car and approached Jisung, an uncertain expression on his face. He didn’t even attempt to hide it. The round and nearly bald, older man looked Jisung up and down, eyes doubtful of his story. “Right, and what is this friend's name?” The man pulled out an iPad with a list of residents in this large subdivision. 

“Y/l/n, Y/n. She lives with her parents…” He sighed, “Dr. And Mr.'s Y/l/n.” Jisung peered over the tablet to see if he could find you, only to find the guard way too immersed in a game of candy crush. “Seriously?” 

The security guard cleared his throat and tapped out of his games screen. “What was the name again?” with an exasperated sigh, Jisung told him your information again. He quickly contacted them, stepping away from Jisung to talk. 

“Yes, good evening. This is Sheldon with Rutherglen Security. I was out on patrol this evening when I spotted a young man out on a run with a duffle bag. When I stopped him he informed me he was trying to go see the daughter of this residence..- ah, his name?” He looked back at Jisung who was impatiently tapping his fingers on his jeans as he stood in the middle of the road, bag strapped across his chest. “What’s your name, kid?”

“Jisung. Han Jisung.” The man nodded and looked away again.

“Jason? Han Jason- Oh okay. I'll make sure to drop him off expeditiously.” He hung up and turned to the boy again. “I guess your story adds up. Get in. I'll drop you off.” He said nothing more and made his way around the tiny smart car, getting in. Jisung eyed the vehicle apprehensively. The window slowly rolled down, “On with it! I don't have all night.” 

The ride was short, he was nearly a block away when he was stopped. The gates to the driveway opened, revealing the lit up rounded pathway that led to the cream colored, French style home with black accents. It was traditional enough not to stick out, but still had a bit of modern flare to it. Truthfully, Jisung always thought your parents were like their house. Vocal, but both vocal enough to rock the boat. 

Some of their opinions didn’t line up with the traditional values of the overall community of Rutherglen, and he admired that. The security guard parked right in front of the house. Jisung could see someone jogging down the staircase inside. The lights in the house lit up with motion, so it made sense to him. The wooden door swung open to reveal a very winded girl, dressed in a band tee and bicycle shorts. 

“Haven't you gotten yourself in enough trouble today?” You rushed out before he could even unbuckle his seat and open the door. “Thank you so much…” Your eyes met the security guards as you leaned into the open window.

“Sheldon.” The security guard nodded.

“Sheldon. Thank you so much.” You opened the door for your friend only for Sheldon to speak up again.

“Excuse me, but are your parents home? I need to go over this with them.” You ushered Jisung out of the car and closed the door, leaning on it as you peeked your head in once again.

“My father is away at a medical conference and my mother is in the Maldives on vacation after major surgery, neither would like to be disturbed. But if you want to hear what my dad sounds like when he's angry, you can give him a ring.” Your voice sounded so sweet, but threatening at the same time. Like honey with the sting of a ghost pepper.

“Ah- no, that's fine. I'll just send them a write up. Have a good night.” He cranked the car back up. “And son, try to stay off the streets at night. You looked like you were up to no good.” 

Before Jisung could answer you interjected, “He will, no worries. Have a beautiful night, Sheldon. Stay safe out there.” With nothing left to say, you pulled your friend into your house and up the stairs to your room. As if the two of you weren't alone, you closed the door. “What they hell, Ji? Your mom called me worried sick, saying you'd gone off and run away. What the hell?” You hissed. You paced back and forth, mind racing.

He sighed, letting the bag he had bared the weight of for just a few hours, fall from him. He was tired and it hadn't even been a day yet. “I.. I couldn't take it anymore. I just knew what he was going to say. What he was going to tell me. How he was going to lay into me for not being good enough. How disappointed he was. How much he wished I could be more like my brother. I just… I couldn't deal with it anymore. He already thinks I'm a failure for not making the grades my brother made. But now I'm even more of a failure.” He plopped onto your fluffy purple bean bag that was situated in your reading nook. 

“Music is to be listened to, not pursued, according to him. I shouldn't entertain these ludicrous fantasies. You know where he took me the other day? To the unhoused encampment near the city center. He told me I'd end up there if I didn't listen to him and do as I was told.” He looked dejected and you wanted to do nothing more than to hold him and tell him everything will be alright. “I guess I just… beat him to the punch.” You sighed, your heart broke for him. He didn't deserve to be treated like that, no one did, really. But especially not Jisung.

“You aren't unhoused, just yet. Tomorrow, I'll skip school and we can look around to find some place to rest your head. Until my parents get back, you can stay here with me. I could use the company.” You could feel a bit of the burden lift off his shoulders and for the first time in a very long time, you saw him smile. He needed this pep talk more than you knew. It made his heart feel a little bit lighter knowing he wouldn’t be navigating this big change in his life without you.

“You know, I don't know what I'd do without you.” He stood unexpectedly and crossed the room to you, pulling you into a tight hug. “You're the best.” You could feel he meant it as he melted into you. He really didn't know what he would do without you. It sounded cliche, but you were literally the wind beneath his wings, his better half. Without you there was no him. He would have come crashing down to earth long ago if it wasn't for you. Your encouraging words always kept him uplifted. Your support always made him strive to be the best at whatever it was he was trying to pursue this week. You were his everything. 

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The next morning you woke up as early as you would for school. You were the top of your class, in line to be valedictorian. They might miss you today, but that didn’t matter as long as you made sure that your best friend was taken care of. Jisung had been there through the worst years of your life. He was quite literally your only friend. The only one who cared enough to stick around when it seemed that everyone in the world turned their back on you, just because the glitter of popularity seemed too tempting to say no to. 

In your freshman year of school your long time best friend Michelle, someone you'd known since babyhood, decided that her popularity over summer break wasn't worth losing. She'd hit puberty and filled out, so that made her popular with older boys. She couldn't take being seen with a “flat chested loser,” like yourself. She acted as though you hadn’t been friends all your lives. She started ignoring you, and the kicker, started rumors that you were doing sexual favors for the grades you were receiving. She knew better, you'd tutored her the summer before, just to make sure she'd have an easy transition into high school. Maybe you should have let her flounder.

You met Jisung during your summer vacation that same year. It was fate, really. You found out he'd moved around a lot before his family decided to settle in Rutherglen. His father had political aspirations, and this would be the perfect place to put down roots and start the career he always wanted. The way he described his folks almost sounded like how yours were. Father with big aspirations to be something better than what his father was. Mother who cares, but will ultimately side with the father. Plus you both had siblings. His older brother that was amounting to big things in life and your younger brother, two years your junior, who was the love of your mothers life. 

You bonded on your love of anime and rock music. Even your views of the world seemed to align. You spent every waking hour with that boy. You exchanged numbers and the rest was history. You'd been inseparable since. So giving up a few hours or days to help your one and only best friend, no matter the circumstances, was absolutely necessary. 

The boy slept like a log. But you understood, he had a hell of a day the day before. He got arrested for staging a protest on campus grounds for LGBTIQ+ rights, which wasn’t the smartest move to make on the campus of an ultra conservative Christian school. His stances went against the school's clear directive, that gay relationships were blasphemous and against all of their beliefs. And though you agree with him, that love is love and should be accepted as such. You knew it would ruffle too many feathers, especially if he didn’t go about it the right way. 

The protest was a mess. He had only managed to get a few students on his side, and they mostly backed out right before the protest was set to begin. The signs the both of you stayed up to make were torn by the kids that liked to ridicule you and bully Jisung. Then when asked by the headmaster to disassemble, Ji stood ten toes down and even cuffed himself to the door that led from the courtyard and into the school. That's how the cops were called. Then he ran away from home. On top of all of that, he almost got detained on his way to your house. 

He deserved to sleep as hard and as long as he wanted. But time was of the essence and him finding at least a roof was imminent. Jisung sounded like a vacuum cleaner as he snored. His mouth was wide open. One leg was under your mattress, how it got there you didn't know and you certainly weren't going to ask. The blanket was wrapped around him like a cocoon and both his hands were stretched above his head like he was superman.

You'd say he looked like a boy with no problems, that was if you didn't know any better. He had plenty of problems. Ones that needed to be handled immediately, you had a “parents are coming home any day now" , type of deadline. You shook him, “Ji, wake up.” He groaned, body flailing a bit. You sighed heavily. His mother told you once that the dead would wake up before she would be able to wake up Jisung in the morning. You could see why she said that now.

“Five more minutes, please?” He pouted in his sleep. The morning sun in its dusty blue haze was starting to peek through the curtains, you needed all the daylight you could afford. 

“No. Get up!” You smacked his chest right over his nipple and he jolted up with a yelp, hitting his head on the ledge of your nightstand. He knocked your lamp over, making it fall to the ground with a hard thud.

“Ow! Why, Y/n?” His pout deepened as he rubbed his head. He looked at you like you’d told him you no longer wanted to be friends. Maybe it was part of his sadness from yesterday that was seeping into the look he was giving you. You didn’t know, but you also didn’t like it. You never wanted him to be sad. To you, he deserved nothing but unadulterated joy. You thought he looked the most handsome when he smiled and nothing else should ever be painted across his lips.

His other hand moved to the spot you smacked, rubbing it while still rubbing the spot on his head. You snorted as you took in the sight, but quickly covered it with concern, seeing that he really was in pain. “I- I'm sorry Ji, I didn't mean to startle you. I just need you up so we can get started. Let me see, yeah?” You moved his hand and inspected the area that had hit your side table. You couldn't see any significant damage past his hair. You kissed the general area. “There. All better?” 

His face heated up, immediately. His thoughts rushed to anything impure he could think of at the moment. He couldn’t help that he was touched starved. He hadn’t had any action since his ex-boyfriend, Minho, graduated over a year ago. Plus, he hadn’t quite come to terms with his new found -okay, maybe they weren’t new and he’s loved you since he first met you,- feelings. Jisung kept his head turned away from you, afraid you'd see the blush that had tinted his cheeks.

“Mhm.” He nodded. Keeping his response simple. He didn’t want you to see his face and use that big brain of yours to figure out just what thoughts plagued his mind about you.

“Well come on, let's get dressed and eat so we can find you some place to stay for a while.” 

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Your mother had been a real estate agent for the past twenty years. She was one of the highest grossing real estate agents in the state. Her vacant properties -which she had plenty of- were what you were going to start with. You'd have to pay extra careful attention to what ones hadn't been looked at in a while and make sure to keep whichever one you settled on that way. “What about that one?” Jisung pointed to a listing of a single family home that was a town over.

“Neighbors would notice. You wouldn't want to be arrested for squatting. I’m sure your dad would love that.” You kept scrolling as he looked over your shoulder, leaning on his hand that was on your arm rests. “It needs to be some place close enough to where I could get to you in case of emergencies, but far enough away from others so they won’t be suspicious.” You chewed on your lip. 

Jisung tried to keep his eyes to himself, but something about the way you looked when you were in full concentration always made his heart flutter. He sighed wistfully. Before all of this happened, he had plans to ask you to be his date to prom. He hoped that if the night turned out well, that he would ask you to be his girlfriend. But he went and fucked things up. His dad did always say he was a good for nothing fuck up. Maybe there was a bit of harsh truth in his words.

“Oh just be honest with yourself, you'd miss me too much if I went too far away.” He chuckled, clearing out his dark thoughts with a joke. Little did he know, he was right. In the four years you'd gotten to spend time with him, even vacations away from each other seemed like torture. Your mother commented once that she'd,

‘Never seen two people who weren't in love, be so attached at the hip. You can’t find one without the other.’ You supposed she was right. A bond like the one you and Jisung had was rare. You considered him your soulmate, your person. So, no, you didn't want him to be too far away. You honestly didn't think you'd be able to handle that. It’s also a part of the reason you were afraid to open any of the letters you’d received from prospective universities. You wanted to stay close to home, but your parents insisted you leave the state, to do and see more. You thought you’d seen enough through traveling and would be just fine close to home and Jisung.

“Don't flatter yourself.” You rolled your eyes to sell the act you were putting on. “Someone has to keep you out of trouble.” 

He scoffed, “Your delusions are getting worse each day. You do realize you're like zero for three at this point, right? I got arrested, expelled, and I'm homeless, and that's all from one day!” You rolled your eyes so hard it was surprising they didn't just roll out of your head.

“How is that my fault? Before the protest I told you to talk to the headmaster to get permission or at least someone on faculty to let them know, but you didn't. You could have talked to the civics teacher, I'm sure she would have happily let us protest. Then when asked to disband, you laid into things harder as if the lack of permission wasn't bad enough. It was for a good cause, yes, but you have to know your limits. You cuffed yourself to the door, Jisung. Like, Seriously?! Then you resisted arrest… I have no words to express how stupid that was. So it's no wonder you got expelled, you broke multiple school rules and managed to get arrested, again.” 

You shook your head. You weren’t disappointed in him, you’d leave that to his father. But you did feel he could have gone about things a little differently. “You didn't even bother telling me that you were running away. We could have planned for this. I could have done something to help before you packed your bags. Least you could have done is let me pick you up.” His arms moved from the arm rest to wrap around you. 

He knew he had you worried, just by the way your eyes looked when you came outside. But his mind was in disarray last night. As soon as he walked in parents house yesterday afternoon he could feel all of what was going to come down on him when his father came home. It was like his mind's eye was open and he could see the immediate future. Said future was telling him he needed to run. That he needed to get out of there before his life ended in that stupid house.

“You can be so annoyingly right sometimes. But it wouldn't be very punk of me if I took the easy way out. Plus, arrest records give me street cred.” You sighed heavily and pushed him away. You couldn’t deal with his strange ideologies right now, you were trying to prevent him from being a common, unhoused, delinquent.

“You're an Idiot.” You mumbled under your breath. You didn't really mean it though. Yes, Jisung made brash, spur of the moment decisions. Yes, they resulted in him being in trouble more often than not. But, Jisung was far from an idiot. Really, he bordered the lines of being a genius. At least to you. He was honestly one of the most sincere and compassionate people you'd ever met. Plus his talent for writing, music, drawing, hell anything he put his mind to creatively, was unmatched. Just don't ask him to play sports. Now, that's when he seemed like an idiot.

“This is it!! Ji, look!” You pointed to the screen, shaking the monitor just from the force. 

“Is that… a van?” You could hear the disgust in his voice, you didn’t even have to look at his face to know his feelings. “You want me to… live in a van?” He grabbed the mouse, scrolling down the page. “There has got to be something… better… right?” It seemed like that was the last property with an actual structure on it, everything else was just land or warehouses. 

“Would you rather a tarp and a cardboard box? Because that might be your only other option.” You quickly pointed out, taking the mouse back from him. “I’m sure one of these vacant warehouses can house you. That is, if you are willing to share your space with roaches, rats, and other creepy crawlies.” He flailed at your words, throwing a small tantrum. 

“Why~ Y/n? Can't I just… stay in your basement or attic or something?” He flopped on your mom's office sofa, still kicking around.

“Because, if my father finds you, He’ll end your life and you know it.” Jisung shuddered at the thought. Your father tolerated him, he always had. He understood that the two of you were friends, but if anything other than friendship happened to spark, he’d flip. He was the type of man that thought his daughter should “preserve her innocence until marriage.” So, that meant he was constantly breathing down your throat about promiscuity and how you should wait. 

That boys, especially ones like Jisung, were not worth your time. He had even had ideal suitors lined up for you to meet during your eighteenth birthday. Someone from a good home with a promising future. Not a homeless dreamer that got expelled from school and ran away from home. To your father, the man for you could never be Jisung, and he had made that known to the both of you in one way or another.

“And he knows exactly what to give me to kill me too. He probably would donate my body to the med school too, just for good measure.” Jisung shuddered at the thought. “Damn it, I hate when you're right.” Your father petrified him. You didn't know this, and he planned on never telling you that your father threatened him the first time they met. Not the first time you introduced them, but the first time they met at the resort. 

Your father had followed you, to make sure you weren't up to anything questionable with the boy you grew so fond of so quickly. He observed from afar, until Jisung got up to use the bathroom. The man towered over the boy, his imposing figure casting a large shadow over him.

“Listen here. That girl that you're chatting up, that's my baby. And as my baby, she gets the benefit of the doubt, you on the other hand, do not. If you're thinking about having sex with my daughter, think twice.” He leaned in, getting down to Jisung's level. 

“I have friends in high and low places. If I wanted to make you disappear, all it would take is a snap of my fingers and poof, you're gone. If you lay a hand on my baby, I'll make sure that's the last time you touch anything with it at all.” It seemed that with every word he spoke he backed him further and further towards the wall, until his back finally hit it. “Keep your hands and your dick to yourself. Understand me?” Jisung nodded slowly, afraid any other action would piss your dad off. “Good.” He patted the boy's shoulder. “Now, hurry up and get back to her. You don't want to keep her waiting for too long, now do you?” Jisung felt like he couldn’t breathe until your father disappeared from his vision. He slid to the ground once the man was gone. That was the day he was glad he had a strong bladder.

So, there was no way in hell he'd be caught here. He didn't want to end up in a ditch somewhere, rotting or worse, he had dreams to fulfill. “Let me see if the lights and water are in my mom's name for this property…” You murmured under your breath. “She doesn't check when small amounts come out of her account. So, as long as you keep your usage low, you should be fine there.” Jisung sat up to look at you, now that his little tantrum was finally over.

All of his thoughts about your father had ceased. Now all he could think about was his fear of losing you. To wake up and not be able to hear your voice, or see your face. How could he survive the wild without you? “Will you come visit me?” You stopped clicking around once you heard the sadness in his voice. You quickly turned around in the office chair to face him. 

“Why would you ask a stupid question like that? You know I will. You living in a weird van can't keep me away. Even if it looks like you’d kidnap children in it.” He laughed at that, your joke lifting his spirits a little. “Now, if you were living in a cardboard box, you might not see me as much.” He kissed his teeth this time, only for you to laugh.

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“How much further is it?” Jisung asked, trailing behind you. You had to ditch the car, the trail was too narrow and overgrown for you to drive it. He hated walking long distances almost as much as he hated running. He was one of the few people who failed physical education, much to the coach's chagrin. They had stated previously that he had the potential to be a great track star. Yeah, that wasn’t remotely the kind of star he wanted to be.

“I think it's just up ahead, there is supposed to be a clearing…” Jisung had his bag and the guitar he had at your house for safekeeping. The one he had at home had been tossed out onto the drive from a second story window. You had a boatload of cleaning supplies, including a mop, bucket, and broom. This place had been abandoned for over a year and a half now, it had to be gross on the inside. 

You could hear him sputtering behind you as he swatted away bugs. “There was no way you could have survived on the outside.” You mumbled, shaking your head. If you were honest, both of you were spoiled little rich kids. Neither of you could survive, especially not without the other. “There!” You couldn't calm the excitement you felt as you saw the silhouette of the van through the trees.

“Fina-fucking-ly.” Jisung huffed, ready to at least take a seat and rehydrate himself. But you had other plans. You opened the van door, the smell of hot air whooshed past you. The pocket door revealed the small kitchen. A sink, floor to ceiling pantry and a counter with a hotplate on top and a mini fridge underneath. You climbed in first.

“This isn't as bad as I thought it would be. At least you have the basic amenities.” You nodded, crawling around on your knees, unaware that Jisung was still standing outside. Apprehension had started creeping its way into Jisung’s subconscious. All the what if's seemingly flying at him all at once. 

“What if you fail? Do you really think she’ll remain friends with a loser that is also a failure?” “What happens when you are here in the dark by yourself?” “What if no one likes your music?” “What if she finds someone else that makes her happier than you do?” “What happens when one of those picks that her father likes sweeps her off her feet? What happens to you then?”

“I don't think I can do this.” He turned on his heels, ready to head back to the car. 

“Ji, wait!” You quickly exited the van to give chase, he had barely made it back to the tree line before you stopped him. His face was red, both from the heat of walking and also from him trying his best to hold back his tears. Maybe he jumped the gun running away from home. He only had two or three months left before graduation, he could have made it that long. But here he was, in the middle of the woods, looking at an abandoned van as prospective housing. 

“If you give up now, you might as well give up on your dreams. Going back home means all of this was for nothing. You might as well throw away all the sheet music and demos you’ve made and go ahead and pick up the law books he was forcing you to read, because you will never do music again if you go back now. Do you want to let your dad win?” He stopped dead In his tracks. Leaving now did mean he was giving up. Going back home to a father that thought of him as nothing but a useless loser was not an option. It might be hard to tough it out, but it wasn’t anything he couldn't get used to. 

He sighed heavily, shoulders drooping with the harsh exhale of breath. “God, I hate that you're always right.” You chuckled. “But, I love it at the same time.” He turned to face you, taken back by the ethereal glow the backdrop of the clearing gave you. You looked otherworldly, a type of beauty that he could never fully wrap his head around. You were the type of person people wrote songs about. He wouldn’t admit it to you, but he was one of those said people. He stood there like he wanted to say something, but he just shook his head, letting the thought go. “You have to promise to come see me often. I… I can't do this alone.” You smiled brightly and he reciprocated. How could he not? To him, you had the most radiant smile. 

“Wouldn't have it any other way.” You reached for him, pulling him into a tight hug. “I'll always have your back.”

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Loneliness. That's what he expected to feel out on his own. His first night was full of it. Every little creek and bump in the night caused him to stir. Afraid that a random serial killer would happen upon his trailer and brutally kill him. Truth was, he just watched too many horror films, October wasn’t that long ago after all. Plus, the two of you loved to break tradition and watch horror and thriller in place of cheesy Christmas love stories where there was always a small town guy and a big city girl who fight their differences to fall in love with each other, while simultaneously saving the town's failing get-together spot. It was always the same trope in a different font and you both hated it. 

When a particularly loud sound pulled him from his sleep, his immediate response was to call you. He’d had enough run-ins with the cops to know not to call them when he was squatting on some middle of nowhere abandoned property. He knew that your soothing voice would be the one thing that would calm him down. It was the only thing that made him feel safe. Just hearing your voice would save him from drowning or bring him back from the brink of death.

“Mhm.” Even with just a hum he knew you had been in a deep slumber. It hadn’t even been the blaring ringtone that woke you up, it was the bright screen of Jisung doing his happy dance after trying the cheesecake you made him for his last birthday.

“Will you stay on the phone with me? It's… Kind of scary out here by myself.” He could hear you shuffling, before settling. Jisung was used to being alone; between his parents traveling for work and his brother being away, loneliness was a constant for the boy. But he knew you were always a phone call away. You’d never failed to answer his call, even if you were asleep or busy; you always made time for him.

“Have you been to sleep, Ji? It's like after four.” Your speech was still slurred, but he found it comforting.

“Yeah. But I keep hearing things.” He played with the fringe on one of the throw pillows you'd lifted from your parents' guest house.

“Want me to sing our song?” He knew you hated to sing, you felt that you couldn't. But he liked for you to sing to him, just for him. Felt like a warm embrace. Your voice was sweet and angelic.

“Please?” You chuckled softly.

Clearing your throat, you started to sing. “Wherever you are, I'll always make you smile.

"Wherever you are, I'm always by your side. Whatever you say, you're always on my mind. I promise you "forever" right now.”

He could feel himself sinking into the mattress underneath him. The worries of the day mentally melting off of him with each word you sang. You were his comfort. He closed his eyes as you continued to sing.

“Someone I can love from my heart. Someone I love from the bottom of my heart. In the center of this love. You are my heart…” 

You paused, hearing the light snoring through the receiver. You couldn't help the sleepy smile that spread over your face. “Goodnight, Ji. Love you.” You hung the phone up quickly, missing his sleep riddled reply.

“I love you too, Y/n.”

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The weeks passed by slowly, turning into months. You meant it when you said you’d visit. You were over at Jisung’s place almost every day. Even when things got a little hectic in your schedule you still made time for him. He appreciated that, he really did. But something was off with you. He felt it deep down, every time you canceled on him, or changed the subject when all he asked was a simple question. You were keeping something from him and it wasn’t anything small either. 

Jisung was sitting on the floor of his van, feet dangling out of the open sliding door, plucking at his guitar. There wasn’t much inspiration flowing as of late. Not when his mind was occupied with you and the secret you were keeping from him. He wanted to know, just wanted to come right out and ask you what you were hiding. But he knew if he was going to ask, he needed to do it gently. You’d shut down if he forced you to tell him what was up. He was so preoccupied with his thoughts he didn’t see you come out of the clearing. Not even the dry grass crunching under your sandals could pull him from deep within his thoughts.

“Ji, I think your ears are smoking. You okay?” The sound of your voice snapped him out of it. His fingers stopped what they were doing and he sat up. 

“Huh? My what are what-ing?” He moved his hand to his ear, feeling for whatever substance you said was coming out his ear, only to realize you were joking. He chuckled. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be out celebrating?” His class graduated today. Instead of being out, celebrating with you and taking pictures of this great day, he was stuck in his van. Barred from coming within fifty feet of the school. 

“Are you dumb? What kind of celebration would it be if you weren’t with me?” You pulled your hand that he hadn’t realized you were hiding until you flashed your diploma. “I’m free… from well.. High School.” You chuckled. “Those last few months were tough without you, Ji. I had no one to talk to.” You sighed, but his only response was to hum.

The tension had built up in his head, his intrusive thoughts winning the ongoing battle in his head. “What are you hiding from me?” He spoke suddenly, not even bothering to look in your eyes as he asked. 

You shook the diploma cover you held in your hand, “My diploma. Is… is everything alright, Ji?” You looked at him confused. Chalking it up to maybe he’d been out here too long by himself. It had been two days since the last time you were by, you just couldn’t free up time.

“No, it’s not alright. You have been acting strange for the last month or so.” He sat his guitar down and jumped down out of the van, coming face to face with you. “You know you can trust me, so, why are you hiding something from me?” 

You thought you’d been acting normal. Trying to keep those feelings of betrayal from seeping out of your pores like bottom shelf liquor. “I…” He was right, you had been hiding something, from the fear of feeling like you’d lose him if you told him the truth. 

He sighed, frustration taking over his expression. Being a forced recluse had taken its toll on Jisung. Jisung might have had most of the things a person with an actual apartment had. He had a kitchen, albeit a small one. He had a place to sleep, and a makeshift living room. He had a sink and could go pee outside, plus a hose to hose down with in place of showers.. He had to walk a few miles to the local gym to handle other things like real grooming, so his hard on his face and the top of his head had grown out tremendously. Not to mention places you hadn’t seen.

Jisung had gotten a job in town, and used you as a reference. Now he worked the night shift at a gas station. It gave him something to do in the meantime, to help him save up to move somewhere other than this ultra conservative little town so he could pursue his dream. He had always hoped you’d get accepted somewhere cool so he could tag along and get some gigs. He always wanted to be wherever you were.

“Please, just tell me the truth.” His voice was soft. He just wanted to know the truth.

You sighed, eyes focused on the diploma in your hand. “I’m leaving.” You spoke, but you stayed planted in your spot. Jisung looked at you confused. 

“Now? Or…”

“Right before school starts. I… I got accepted into the university of my dreams…. Ji…” The sadness in your voice was palpable. The excitement hit him before the realization hit. You’d been talking about where you really wanted to go if you ever got the chance. It was in a different country, halfway across the globe. You were leaving. For real.

He took a moment. He didn’t want to seem bitter that you were leaving him. But, you were leaving him. His rock was leaving him to float away. You kept his mind grounded, what was he going to do with you gone?

“I.. I’ve been afraid to tell you. I wanted to tell you in my own way, whenever I was ready. But… It never seemed like a good time.” You were picking at a loose string on the hand stitched leather cover.

It felt like an eternity before Jisung spoke again. “You’re leaving… for uni?” You looked up, alarmed by his voice which was devoid of any type of feeling.

"What happened to us sticking together? Staying close to each other?" He frowned, "So.. you're leaving m-..?" He paused, but quickly corrected himself. "You are leaving Rutherglen?"

“Yes, in a few months.” You nodded, hoping that if you explained you had time before you went it would help him to process it better.

He was trying his best to keep all of his emotions from spilling out like an over boiling pot, but he couldn’t keep it in. “How long have you known?” 

Your brows creased into a frown. “How long have I known that I wanted to go there? You know the answer-”

He stopped you mid-sentence. “How long have you known that you were leaving? How long have you known that you were leaving me behind?” His voice came out calm, but it was the type of calm that led to murders.

“Ji- I- don't know. I just.. I wanted to tell you but I was afraid of how to say it-”

“How long?!” He snapped, scaring the both of you. You’d never witness this side of him. The shade of anger almost reminded you of his father. “Y/n.. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean-”

You cut him off this time. “A month.” You spoke matter-of-factly. “I got the letter a month ago and I’ve been riddled with anxiety while trying to figure out how to tell you. You know this is all I ever wanted and I-”

You felt the wind get knocked out of you before you could finish your sentence. “Go.” You stopped speaking as the cold word left your best friend's mouth. “I don’t need you to stay here for my sake. I’ll be just fine by myself.” He didn’t believe the words coming out of his own mouth, but somehow, you did. You took a few steps back away from him.

He didn’t dare look at your face, too afraid it would break his heart and make it even harder to say goodbye.

He had to let you go. He knew that and you knew that. All he would be doing is holding you back if he tried to convince you to stay closer to him. He knew this was your dream and he needed to support that. Because all you ever did was support him. He felt it was finally his turn to do the same for you.

If he didn’t let go now, he definitely wouldn’t be able to a few months from now. If he didn’t rip the Band-Aid off now, the wound would never heal. “Just fucking go.” He wanted to congratulate you, tell you just how good you did. That despite all of the hurdles you faced you still came out on top. You deserved to be celebrated. But he couldn’t do that with you, not right now. Not when he was on the verge of ripping his own heart out. He let his long bangs cover his eyes so you wouldn’t look into them and see the immediate regret they held. “Why are you still standing here? GO!” 

You swallowed the enormous lump in your throat. He wouldn’t get your tears, he didn’t deserve them. You couldn’t wrap your head around why he was so upset. You wanted to tell him, you really did. But how do you go about telling your best friend that you won't be able to see them again until some miscellaneous holiday? If that. Your family had money, but you doubt they would even care enough to fly you back and forth, especially if it was just to see some boy.

“Ji, I’m sorry I wanted to-” He stopped you before you could finish by getting in the van and shutting the door right in your face. He could show you better than he could tell you that he wanted you gone. You sucked in a deep breath and turned your back on the van. It took everything in you not to turn around, you didn’t want to say goodbye, especially not like this. Jisung on the other hand, only pretended to let his anger get the best of him. He retreated to his bed as soon as the door closed. He watched silently as your back disappeared into the brush. The sadness took over as soon as he couldn’t see your back anymore. 

This was the end of the best thing he’d ever had. The closest thing he’d ever felt was close to true unconditional love.

The passage of time is a funny thing. One moment you are crying your eyes out because what you thought was your person turned their back on you. Then you traveled halfway across the world to get your degree and ended up spending four more years in another place to get your doctorate. Now you are sitting at your younger brother’s wedding rehearsal. Just who gets married at the ripe age of twenty-two? He just got the hang of legal drinking, for Christ's sake. When did he even get this big? 

Things were hectic, especially considering you were his “best man”, like he didn’t have a male friend to fill the role. You would have been perfectly fine just sitting out with your parents as a bystander. Thankfully you were pretty familiar with his friends and his soon to be husband. Plus you knew the ins and outs of his life, even if you didn’t want to. He said he trusted you more than anyone, that's why he picked you. You couldn’t say no to that, even if you desperately wanted to. 

The wedding was beautiful. His family also came from money, so they spared no expense to make sure that their ‘Lovely boy”, as they affectionately called him, got everything he wanted. That included a destination all the way in lovely Spain, Ibiza to be exact. Your parents paid for the reception, and of course, married or not, no one was going to outdo them when it came to their favorite child. They rented out a whole hotel with beautiful vistas of the Ibizan coastline. Your brother also wanted them to pay for Beyonce to come and perform, but they quickly shot that down, which you found funny. Instead He asked for another artist, one that his now husband seemed to love.

You had just finished taking a picture with the wedding party, successfully embarrassing your little brother with a big kiss on the cheek in the last photo. You couldn’t be happier for his happiness. He pulled you to the side, as the others gathered to make their entrance to the reception. “Sis, I couldn’t thank you enough for all you've done for me.” He put a hand on your shoulder, looking down at you with your mothers smile. Seriously, when did he get so big? “I know things haven't always been smooth sailing between us. I didn’t have nearly as many things to overcome, being that I'm the baby and mom's favorite after all.” He laughed and you playfully scowled. 

“But, I recognize, and I'm thankful for every sacrifice you've made as my older sibling. Without your encouragement I would have never gone to law school, which means I would have never met the love of my life. I'd still be miserable trying to remember all the fucking funky ass medical terms.” You laughed at that, the boy was struggling. He wanted to follow in your fathers footsteps, just to make him proud. But you’d convinced him that he could make him proud just by being himself and succeeding in something he actually loved. It turned out you were right, but when weren’t you? “I needed you to tell me to find something that made me happy. So, my question to you now is, are you happy, sis?” He slid his hand from your shoulder into yours. “I don’t mean with work, we all know you love your job. Dr. Y/L/n.” You smiled, but you didn’t answer the question immediately.

For years now, it felt as if something was missing from your life. But you couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was. You’d been in a few relationships since you’d left Rutherglen, you’d even been engaged. You’d made friends along the way, some you were even still close to. But for the most part, nothing ever felt worth the effort to keep. Maybe it was the trauma you’d felt from all of your failed high school relationships that found a way to creep into the ones you’ve tried to make. Maybe it was just some weird void left there by the person you thought was your person. Who knows? But, you were alone. But you didn’t feel like you were lonely, per-se. You filled whatever deep well of emptiness with traveling and good food. 

Your brother gave you a look and it caused you to sigh. “I’m good. This is you and Liam’s day, Aaron. I know you want to save the world and all, but you can’t solve all my problems. At least, not today anyway.” You chuckled. It was sweet that he was concerned about you, it really was. But, you’d been trying to deal with whatever this hole was for over eight years now. You found that it was either something that you get used to, or you try to fill. You just decided to get used to it. There was no use in trying to fill the black hole left in your heart by-

“It’s time to head in, you two.” The wedding planner snapped you out of your thoughts. You smiled up at your younger brother before tugging him along to join the rest of the wedding party.

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“Thank you, Manchester!” The crowd roared as Jisung threw his sweaty and torn tee-shirt out into the pit of fans. He and his band Mortal Savages were promoting their latest album, Awkward Example, on tour. This was the last stop on the European leg of the junket, after they had toured the world. He rushed off stage as the throng of fans started to get rowdier than they already were. A small mosh pit was starting to form in the middle and he honestly wanted no parts of that. Last time they waited around while that happened, he lost a tooth and ended up with a concussion and a busted guitar. 

His assistant handed him a bottle of water as he exited the stage. “Your flight is in two hours, Mr. Han. I have arranged a private car to pick you up from your hotel and take you to the airport.” Jisung nodded, listening idly. He just wanted to unwind, before heading to this small gig he and the rest of his band had been booked for. If it wasn’t for this being a special request of a friend of a friend, he’d be headed right back to Seoul with his band.

See, Jisung had made quite a name for himself over the past eight years. After he pushed you out of his life, he picked up the pieces as best he could. Using your exit as motivation. He hoped that you wouldn’t hate him forever, that one day the two of you would reunite. But in case you didn’t, he wanted to use the little bit of light you’d shone in his life to really make something of himself. He started small, busking a few towns over in a big city.

That landed him a few gigs here and there like weddings and bar mitzvahs. As much fun as those were, he had bigger dreams. He started to post short covers on tik tok and things kind of picked up from there. He was recognized by an artist that wanted to start his own label and the rest was history. He’d found his people. He put together his own band from some people he’d met in circles while touring by himself. People who had small fanbases, but great potential. 

Hyunjin, his bassist, was a model. He played bass in his free time and had a few videos posted on his insta account of him playing. He was suggested to him by a secretary at the company. Okay, maybe suggested was a strong word. She had a crush on the bassist, so it was only natural that she suggested Jisung look into him. He did, and he loved his style. Hyunjin introduced him to Felix, his closest friend, a twitch gamer that just so happened to know how to play guitar, and had a pretty surprising set of vocal cords on him. It was only natural he asked him to join the group. 

He found Jeongin in a jazz bar of all places. The kid was a classically trained pianist whose one act of rebellion was to play jazz. Jazz. As surprising as it was, it is what almost got him disowned by his family. Jisung convinced him that if he really wanted to make his parents mad, he should try rock. Turns out, Jeongin’s dad really liked rock music.

Despite him trying to anger his parents, he actually made them proud. Go figure. All he needed to round out the group was a drummer. He found his drummer, an Aussie, on youtube, doing shirtless rock remixes of popular r&b and pop songs. The dude was so undeniably cool he called his manager that night to ask him to find this dude. By the time he woke up the next morning, Chris was on a plane to see him. 

They somehow all clicked, becoming a band of brothers in a matter of months. He couldn’t see his life without these guys now. Jisung was relieved when the door closed behind him in the dressing room. He needed to tune out all of the noise. He hated being alone with his thoughts, they seemed overwhelming at times, but after a set, it seemed to be the one thing that comforted him. He flopped in a chair, directly in front of a vanity, taking in his reflection. 

So many things have changed over the years. He changed his hair a few times, it went from short to long and back again. He recently grew it out, opting to keep the long hair, figuring it stopped his face from looking so youthful and chubby. He'd dyed it several times, but it was currently back to his regular dark brown. His previously unmarred skin was now littered with various tattoos with different meanings and reasons behind them.

Most of them remind him of his past, both the good and bad. Without those moments, he wouldn’t be who he was today. He ran his fingers through his damp fringe, sighing. He had no time to reminisce about ancient history, he had somewhere to be in a few hours and needed to gather his strength to get there. Jisung pushed himself up with a heave-ho and gathered up his things.

It was a quick ride back to the hotel. There were a few fans and reporters posted outside. It was just the ones who had figured out he and his band mates were staying there. His anxiety started to kick in the moment he started to see the flashes of cameras as the car came to a halt in the drop off area. He almost asked his assistant to go get his things, that he’s take care of his personal hygiene when they got to their destination.

But he group mates were already shuffling out of the SUV before he could get his bearings. Jisung felt like he was in a trance, his body moving on auto pilot. The sound had cut out, all he could hear was muffled shouting and the incessant humming noise. His face was blank, gone with any thoughts that he had in his head. There was just this tiny voice in his head telling him, “You got this, Ji.” It sounded an awful lot like his old friend. But it had been eight years and the sound of her voice was something he had long ago forgotten, no matter how hard he tried to hold on to the memory of it.

There were times when he thought he might forget her face, but social media was a constant reminder of it. It wasn’t like he was stalking her or anything . Okay, maybe he was. But it was only just a little bit. He just wanted to know if she was doing well. If she’d gotten married, or made any big life changes. She’d changed a lot too. Her style had changed, as well as her hair a few times. But the thing that stayed the same was her smile. It was the thought of her smile that kept his feet moving as he made his way into the hotel. The sound came back in as the cool air of the hotel lobby hit his face. He breathed a sigh of relief. Thankful he didn’t have another episode like he did a couple weeks ago. He fainted from anxiety and it made front page news, much to his chagrin.

“Alright, everyone go get your things. We will meet back here in forty-five.” His manager spoke after rounding up the band and their staff. It wasn’t much time, but he was glad he’d get at least a few minutes to himself before heading out again into the sea of people waiting for him. The elevator ride up to their floor was filled with eventful conversations between the members and the few staff that took the ride up with them. Jisung would throw a smile or a nod around occasionally, but was otherwise disengaged. His mind was filled with thoughts about his family. How his brother and his wife had welcomed their second child, a little boy with round chubby cheeks just like his uncle. He hoped that his brother would be a better father to the second born child than their father was to him. 

Even though they had since then made up. Jisung knew it was only due to him being a ‘success’, rather than his father truly being sorry for all of the pain he’d caused him. It took a lot of therapy and lyric writing for him to even be remotely open to talking to his father. If it wasn’t for mis mother practically begging him to forgive the man, he would have never even considered it. Turns out that the youth vote can be boosted when your son is a super popular rockstar. Just have said rockstar pose in a few pictures with the mayoral candidate with the same name, and your political career might take off.

He didn’t fault his father for it. He'd worked hard to get his career to that point. There was nothing wrong with booting your votes with a pretty well-known artist. Especially when that artist is your child. His father actually sat him down amidst their reunion and told him that the only reason he treated him like that was because he saw too much of himself in him. That he once had aspirations to be a rock star, that he almost made it. Him and his band had signed a record deal and everything. But things fell through and they ended up having to pay back the company for the debt they had incurred. He just didn’t want that life for his son. He also admitted that he may have gone about things the wrong way, not recognizing the same stubbornness in his son that he once had.

The ding of the elevator brought Jisung out of his thoughts. He separated from his members as he pushed his door open after using the keycard to get in. He was back to his thoughts, now his brain now blotted with thoughts of you. He missed you, dearly. How your lips curled when you smiled. How your hair smelled when you hugged him in the mornings before class. How your sleepy voice sounded. How out of everyone, you gave him the most strength to make it day to day. How a chance encounter was the reason you two became friends in the first place. Even down to how you were his person. 

Even years after seeing you last, you were still his person. He had a feeling you would always be. Countless hit records were written about you and he'd keep writing about you until he couldn't write anymore. His muse. His first true love. His person. The lov- “Aren’t you Han? From Mortal Savages?” His door barely clicked open when he heard the high pitched vocal fry of what he assumed was one of his fans. He sighed. If he hadn’t been caught up in his thoughts maybe he would have seen her and possibly avoided all of this. He quickly closed the door, knowing all too well how some fans could be and he didn’t want to take that chance.

He turned to her with a smile. “Yeah. What can I do for you, beautiful?” He’d learned from Chris that sometimes you had to pacify the fans with a compliment, make them feel special. It made them come back.

Her eyes lit up at the compliment. “I- I was hoping… you might invite me in.” Jisung tried his best to keep his face neutral. “I’m your biggest fan, a-and I wanted to show you just how much I love you.” Stealthily he turned on his camera to record this incident, sometimes you had to be careful with delicate situations like this. He didn’t want his career to end over a ‘he said, she said’ situation. 

He sighed again, “Look, you seem like a nice person, but I’m really tired and I don’t have much time. I have another gig to get t-”

“But your schedule says it’s clear..” She pulled out her phone to provide the evidence. 

“It’s a private event, that's why it isn’t on there.” He nodded, “I really need to get packed up so that I don’t miss my plane.” She took the opportunity to step closer to him.

“I promise I’ll make it worth your while!” She got a little louder, alarming the man even further.

“N-no thank you.” He spoke nervously. He’d had industry friends say that this happened to them all of the time, but this was a first for him. He stepped back, back hitting the door to his room. 

“I’ll be really good for you, Ji.” She pressed her body against his. Calling out the nickname that no one, but you called him. You were the only one allowed to call him that. It was either his last, first, or his full name. It didn’t have the same endearing ring when others said it. He hated how it sounded falling from other people's lips.

“Wh-what did you call me?” He stared at her blankly.

“Ji.” She smiled wide as if she had accomplished something. “I thought it was cute. Everyone else calls you Han or Jisung, so I thought it’d be nice to call you something I came up with on my own.”

The anger was rolling off Jisung in waves, like magma slowly building towards becoming erupted lava. His face stayed calm as he spoke, but every word was pointed. “Don’t ever call me that again. It’s not for you to come up with different names for me. It’s Jisung, not Ji to you. Understand?” She nodded, getting the underlined hint that he was angry. He didn’t even sound like himself.

“Now, like I said… I have somewhere to be and you are holding me up. If you want a picture or an autograph I can give that to you, but I can’t give you anything else.” She took the opportunity to get the picture, but he was sure she was going to write some whack ass caption like, “Don’t meet your idols.” Or some shit like that. He didn’t have the capacity or strength to care at the moment, he had places to be.

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Jisung was often praised for how quickly he could go to sleep. Not many people had that skill, plus the ability to sleep anywhere and not be disturbed by the loud noise surrounding him. But his alleged gift did not come in handy on the flight from Manchester to their private booking two hours and some change away. As a matter of fact, that usual gift seemed like a deterrence. He fell asleep as soon as they got on the plane, but ten minutes later he was wide awake again. He tried his best to get some rest before they touched down, but nothing helped. He counted sheep and took a swig of liquor, he even tried a sleep aid, but here he was, looking out the window as the plane touched down. It had to be his luck, right? Something was off in the universe or something. Because why was his scale tipping towards all this bad will?

Even after arriving and settling into his hotel room, sleep just would not come to him. The hours ticked by. He tried at first to see if he laid in the bed long enough if sleep would still elude him, it did. He tried to gather some inspiration, maybe pen something fantastic about not being able to sleep, the inspiration never came. So as the sun slowly started to creep over the horizon, he decided to take a walk. The beautiful vistas around this hotel were captivating, so hopefully they would provide him with both inspiration and clarity. He stood near the cliff and watched the sunrise, not noticing the woman a few yards away from him, taking in the same views. He was about to leave, hoping that seeing the sun would finally put him to sleep when he noticed something about her. The briny scent of the sea mixed with her scent and just like a care package, the breeze sent it right into his nostrils. 

Every muscle and nerve in his body froze with the familiar scent. But there was just no way. Right? His father asked him to do this favor, saying this was his wedding gift to the son of a family friend. But it never occurred to him that your family were the aforementioned family friends. His body ached to call out to you, run to you, but his mind kept him in the same position. With good reason apparently. You were joined a moment later, a man around your age coming behind you, wrapping a blanket around your shoulders before taking up the spot right next to you. Was that your boyfriend? His anxiety started to bubble in the center of his chest, his heart felt shaky. He knew a day like this would come, when he would have to face you once more. Make amends with how he broke your heart. But he never expected it to be on your family trip. He didn’t expect to meet you again in the same manner he met you the first time. Meeting somewhere tropical with your family somewhere nearby. Now he had to add in a boyfriend to the mix.

His head was starting to pound, he needed to sleep. He needed his heart to stop beating so rapidly in his chest. He needed to call this all off and head back to the comfort of his own home, to get away from the madness. “Jisung, what are you doing out here?” His eyes widened, hearing his name being called. He turned around to see his manager, dressed in his workout gear, just having come from a run. In a panic, Jisung quickly pulled the man away from the scene, hoping you hadn’t heard. Just as he ducked back into the building, you looked around in the spot he was just in, to see no one there.

It took him a while to calm down. He could still see you from his hotel room and it wasn’t helping him one bit. Internet stalking you was bad enough, now he was literally stalking you, watching you from his window like some creep. He was anxious, sleep deprived, and now he had to add scared that he’d truly lost you forever. He looked on at you and your boyfriend, talking animatedly from the window. His arm was around your shoulder, he assumed to keep you warm. Even with the blanket still around you. “What am I going to do?” He was stressed. Hair sticking up all over his head from incessantly running his fingers through it. He couldn't leave, he’d made a promise with his dad to do this in his absence. Plus his mom was somewhere around, she’d been texting him all night about how she couldn’t wait to see her precious baby. He wouldn’t be able to stomach a decision that made her sad when she was clearly so excited.

He wanted to say ‘fuck you’, to being a good son. But at the end of the day he just couldn’t. What if you didn’t recognize him? Or worse. What if you ignored his entire existence? He knew you had every right too, he did push you out of his life just because you’d hidden your acceptance to college from him. Or at least that's what he let you think. He didn’t want to be the reason you didn’t follow your biggest dreams. He flopped on his bed, tired of watching the endless flirtation and touching between you and your supposed boyfriend. He laid in the bed, draping his arm over his eyes to block out the sunlight. “Get a grip, Jisung. It’s just a performance. She’s just a girl. Just do what you came here for and peace out. It’s simple.” At least he hoped that's how things would be. He’d perform, then he and his mom would make their way to Seoul to visit some family. Simple. Easy. Right?

Yeah, things were definitely not that easy. Not for him at least. He eventually fell asleep, just to be woken up by a knock at his door. It was his mother, inviting him to be her date to the wedding. Was he a momma’s boy because he couldn’t deny her this simple task? Maybe, but how could he say no to her? That's how he ended up between his mother and your third cousin, Lilliana, both women talking his ears off as he nodded idly. Luckily the wedding was outdoors, so his sunglasses made a lot of sense. He wasn’t the only one shielding their eyes from the sun's rays. The only reprieve he felt was when the wedding march started. For the most part, the wedding party came in one person at a time. Until it came to the best men, the two of you walked in together, arm in arm. The way he looked at you sunk Jisung’s heart lower than the floor. 

You were stunning, he could understand your boyfriend’s feelings. The way the all red pants suit looked on, put everyone else to shame. Even the way your hair was pinned up, or even how simple but gorgeous your makeup looked, all of the above just complimented your beauty perfectly. He couldn’t pay attention to the actual wedding, his mind and eyes focused on you the whole time. Even if you felt his stare, you didn’t acknowledge it. He was thankful for that. He already felt like a creep from watching you this morning. Even as you walked back down the aisle, he watched you until he couldn’t see your figure anymore.

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Nerves. He stopped getting nervous before shows years ago. But here he was, pacing back and forth, chewing on his already bitten away nails. His members looked on at him, worried. It’d been a while since they’d seen him like this and even though each of them tried their best to comfort him in their own way, nothing seemed to work. The time was ticking down for them to go on stage and the dread in the pit of his stomach was growing exponentially. What if she still hates me? What if she lets everyone know how disgusting of a human being I am for treating her that way? What is this…? What if that…? He was so far into his thoughts it took an actual push from his manager to start walking.  

“Babe, I know how much you love this group and their lead singer's voice. So, using my sister's old connections, I asked his dad if he could get them to perform for our wedding reception.” Aaron spoke, holding up his champagne flute towards his husband. “So, this is Mayor Han’s gift to us for our wedding. Please give a warm round of applause to Mortal Savages!” All of the young people in the crowd went wild, most of them rushing to the dance floor right in front of the stage to get a good view. Aaron hurried to his husband's side to watch the band. But all Jisung could do was look out into the crowd, in hopes of finding you. He felt like a teenager all over again. Transported back to his audience of one. No one else mattered in this moment, not even the grooms who he was here to entertain.

He expected to see anger in your eyes, but instead was met with this inexplicable sadness. “Uh- hi.” Jisung spoke nervously. “It’s been a while since we last played a wedding, but uh- I hope..” He could see your boyfriend whispering something in your ear just for you to shake your head no. It only made him wonder what he asked. “I hope this song reaches someone out there. Because almost every song is written for or about someone. Often it's about the love that got away, other times it’s about the love you feel in the moment. So.. I hope this helps to spread the love that this lovely couple is feeling at this very moment.” He grabbed his guitar, the pick nearly slipping out of his sweaty fingers.

As the song started, he kept his eyes locked on your, not straying away from your saddened yet scrutinizing gaze. 

“지킬게 아파도 돼 네가 흘린 상처들은 감싸 안을게 이미 내게 너는 죄 너는 죄…”

You tore your eyes from him, to focus once more on your boyfriend, giving that man a soft smile. One that was once reserved strictly for Jisung. Most if not all of your smiles once upon a time were because of him, they were for him. Maybe because things were so easy back then he didn’t realize he was taking them for granted, taking you and the love you showed him for granted, platonic or not. Almost as if he couldn’t lose them. To know that the reason you were no longer a constant in his life was all his doing? Felt like a ripping stab to the heart.

“뜨거운 네가 필요해, you are my volcano…”

He was thankful that you let the song end before you excused yourself. Jisung dropped everything, practically chucking his guitar into his manager's hands before running after you. He could hear the confused claps at the reception, he knew he’d have to deal with the consequences of his actions, but those were the last thing on his mind right now. He saw the fabric of your red suit rush to the elevator, but he quickly caught it before the doors closed completely. You sighed loudly, wishing you could have vanished before he found you, but your luck was apparently shit.

“Please.. Just.. hear me out.” He huffed, arms still stretched out at his sides holding the elevator door open. You wanted to tell him no, because what was left to say? He was the one who pushed you out, not the other way around. You owed him nothing. But you gave in anyway. Truth be told, you wanted to hear what excuses he’d make for his past behavior. Because a simple apology wasn’t going to work on you, you needed to know why he pushed you away.

He silently stepped on the elevator with you. The building only had a few floors, so he needed to speak quickly. “I didn’t realize until it was too late that this was your brother's wedding. I hope you don’t think I crashed it on purpose, because that just isn’t the case. I just-”

“Get to the point, Jisung. I don’t have all night to stand in this elevator and talk with you.” You spoke coldly, eyes staring into his murky reflection on the mirrored doors. You wouldn’t even spare him an actual look. He could feel himself getting nervous all over again.

“It’s not an excuse, but in my mind, pushing you away was the best thing for you. I wanted to keep you by my side. But I knew if I selfishly asked you to stay, you would. I also knew that talking with you over the phone or facetime wouldn’t be enough. Especially not when I’d grown used to having you near. Once upon a time, one phone call was all it took and you’d be there, but how could you if you were in another country? I couldn’t deal with even the thought of it. Being able to hear your voice, but not being able to actually bask in your presence- the thought of living like that for four years killed me.” 

You crossed your arms over your chest and rolled your eyes. “But that wasn’t just your decision to make, Ji-” His nickname almost slipped off your tongue, probably a force of habit. “Jisung. We could have figured something out. But you decided our friendship wasn’t worth fighting for. You literally slammed the door in my face. It’s been eight years. Do you think I’m still hung up on how you imploded our friendship on a whim? I’ve moved on. You should too.” Your sentence ended just as the elevator dinged, the old door creaking open. “Congratulations on becoming a success, by the way. I guess me not being around paid off for you.”

Your eyes finally met his, but he didn’t like the look in them. Like you loathed the fact that he was breathing the same air as you. “I can’t.” He spoke, exiting the lift with you. “I can’t move on. I never had any intention to.” He followed after you, even after you dismissed him. You were just trying to get into your room, away from him, away from the noise. But he was persistent. He followed you in. After you didn’t push him out, he continued. 

“Almost every song I’ve written has been about you. For you. I-I hoped that one day you’d see my face on tv or hear my voice on the radio and look me up. I hoped that you’d read my lyrics or my ‘thanks to’ and realize that everything I did was so you could see me. See that I needed to push you away for both of us to grow. I needed the pain to see that my feelings for you were more than whatever platonic bullshit I had reduced them too. I needed that space to understand that what I thought was love with my exes would never compare to the love I have for you. I’ve been in and out of relationships since you walked away from my van and back into the trees and nothing, not even the biggest heartbreak has compared to the feeling of never seeing your face or hearing your voice again.”

You kept your back turned towards him as you listened. You stared out the sliding glass door and glass balcony fence that overlooked the reception area. The party was still going on, everyone was having a good time, despite the lead singer of the band being missing in action. 

“All I’ve wanted this past eight years is for you to understand that I was too dependent on you. I needed to grow up, to man up and I couldn’t do that if you were around. I had to learn to navigate life by myself without you constantly helping me out of every little fuck up. Do you even realize that that's how it was? Everytime I fucked up, you came behind me and cleaned it up to the best of your ability. I flunked a class, you spent your entire summer helping me pass it so I wouldn’t be left behind the next year. I ran away from home and you found me a place to stay so I wouldn’t be homeless. I depended on you so much that I needed to know that I could do it on my own. You needed to go to the school of your dreams so you could do the work you were clearly called to do. I know I went about it the wrong way, I realize that.” 

His voice grew closer, so you closed your eyes, hoping you wouldn’t have to face him. “You broke my heart, Ji.” It hurt him to hear you say it, it hurt even more to hear how brokenhearted you sounded. “I thought that whatever we faced in life, we’d be in it together. Until the wheels fell off. Isn't that what we used to say? Isn't that what we promised?” It was more of a rhetorical question, you were sure you both knew the answer to that question.

“Then all of a sudden I was alone. You’d iced me out. I left the country right after graduation because I couldn’t stand even the thought of running into you, seeing your fucking punchable face. I realized on the plane why it hurt so bad. Why losing you as a friend hurt me worse than losing my childhood best friend to the glimmer of popularity. It was because I loved you. I came to the fucked up realization that somewhere along the way I had fallen madly in love with my best friend. If I thought I was heartbroken before, that made it far worse.” You finally turned to face him.

“Imagine, finally being able to move on. Finally free from the burden of unrequited love, just to hear his voice on the radio.” You chuckled humorously. “To have your friends gush over how hot the lead singer of this band was. Telling you just what his voice did to them in excruciating detail.” You sighed deeply just thinking of all the things your friends said they wanted to do to him or what they wanted him to do to them. 

“To have to suffer silently while they sang his songs or shoved his content down your throat. All while you are nursing the gaping wound he left behind. To keep having to relive the moment he gutted you like a fucking fish all because he what-? Wanted to be less dependent on you?” You tilted your head back as you scoffed. “I had no one, Jisung. You were my only friend. Just like you were dependent on me, it was the same for me. I had to rebuild myself once you were gone. It took years for me to open up to people, I had closed myself off afraid I’d be abandoned by someone else I considered my friend.” He could see that you were fighting back tears. He reached for you only for you to pull back.

“That's for a friend to do. Not for some random stranger that followed me to my room.” That's when the realization hit him. This looked bad. Really bad. He'd followed a girl to her room from a party. Even if you, him, and a few party goers knew the type of relationship you used to have, that was far in the past at this point. You didn't know each other now. For all he knew, you could have had a few drinks. All it took was one out of control rumor and his career would be over. He backed up, letting his hands fall to his side.

“I’m sorry.” His voice was low, almost nonexistent. “Please, let me be that for you again. It doesn’t have to be a full blown friendship, even if I want to work my way back to that. Just- just let me be there for you, please?” Jisung cautiously stepped closer with his arms stretched. It was a slow wrap of his arms around your frame, before he pulled you in close, patting your back soothingly. You both melted into each other. He swore nothing else felt more like home than being in your arms. He hugged you tighter and you broke down, sobbing into his fuzzy cardigan.

“I fucking hate you, Ji.” You gently hit his arm as you wrapped your arms around him. He chuckled lightly, a smile spreading on his lips.

“That’s okay, I’ll take the hate. Just as long as that means one day I can get you to love me again.”

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You took a few moments to recollect yourself, deciding to return to your brother's party. You tried to convince Jisung to go ahead without you, since he was being paid to be there, but he refused. He stuck with you the whole elevator ride back down and all the way until you made it into the reception. “Where the heck have you been?” A man approached the two of you, one who you could only assume was his manager. “You just ran off stage without a word. Do you know how that makes you look?” As he laid into him, you slowly backed away, going for your escape. Only for Jisung to reach back and grab your hand.

“I- I know, Hyung. I- this is her. This is my, Y/n.” He lightly tugged you forward, showing the man you clasped hands. “This is her little brother's wedding. I’ll perform a few songs by myself to make up for my absence. You and the rest of the guys can go ahead and head out. I’m so sorry for the inconvenience.” The man looked at him skeptically before he nodded in agreement.

“Fine. I’ll see you back in Seoul in a few weeks. You have a great vacation.” His eyes traveled to you as he plastered on a warm smile. “Congratulations on getting your PHD, I know your family must be proud, Dr. Y/l/n. I know someone was.” His eyes darted to Jisung before he bowed and left to gather up the rest of the band.

“How did you even know I got my phd?” You asked, stealthily trying to pull your hand away from the death grip he had it in, but he didn’t let go. 

“I… kind of kept up with you. Mostly on my finsta account. I also might have received news from your brother. He came to confront me at one of my shows and we’ve been in contact since. Please don’t be mad at him, I asked him to keep it from you. I didn’t want you to find a way to cut off my supply. Knowing you were doing well is what kept me going.” You sent a scowl towards your brother, who must have felt a disturbance in the force. He put his hands up to say he had no choice. You’d talk to him about this later.

“I wanted to experience the milestones in your life, even if it was from secondhand stories.” He pulled out his phone, there was a photo album dedicated to you with pictures spanning from the first time you met up until your first day at your new job as a child psychologist in a nearby children's hospital. “Though I couldn’t be there, I still want to say, congratulations. I’m proud of you.” You rolled your eyes.

“So, what you are saying is… you internet stalked me for years and even pulled my younger brother into it, with a promise to sing at his wedding. Tsk tsk. Wait until the internet gets a hold of that.” You joked. The panic in his eyes before the realization was hilarious to you. “I’m joking, Jisung.” You smiled, “Thank you for being interested in my progress through life. Congratulations to you as well, Mr. Grammy nominated artist. That's amazing, Ji. It really is. I guess we really got what we wanted, huh?” You smiled wistfully. 

But the smile slid right off of Jisung's face. He got part of what he wanted. The other part was standing right in front of him, her hand in his. And as close as she was, she was still so far away. In his mind, it was all a matter of if he was going to truly confess everything in his heart, right here, right now. He was frightened that he might overwhelm you if he did.

Though he had let it slip that he loved you earlier in your hotel room, that was nowhere close to the extent of what he felt for you. He wanted to shout it from the rooftop that the woman he loved had accepted him back into her life after he’d gone and fucked everything up.

Jisung had been swept up in a whirlwind, being introduced to all of you and your brother's mutual friends. His mind being put at ease, finding out that Hangyul was in fact not your boyfriend. Even if a blind person could tell he had fallen for your charm, Jisung was glad that was just his feeling and it wasn’t mutual apparently. Not with how far you put your wedding partner in the friendzone.

Giving Jisung a kind of go ahead to wiggle his way out of the friend zone he’d finally gotten back into. He excused himself, figuring it was time to finish out this set he was kind of sort of paid for. He sat on a stool on stage, acoustic guitar in hand, mic in front of him. “Sorry for bailing out on you all earlier. I saw the love of my life running out of the wedding hall and I needed to catch her before I made the second biggest mistake of my life.” 

Your eyes widened from the crowd where you were standing next to your brother and his husband. “The first was letting her go in the first place. I was young and apparently very stupid. I pushed the best thing that had ever happened to me out of my life and I’ve regretted that decision for the last eight years, twenty-six days..” He looked at his watch, “Ten hours, seven minutes, and 13- no 15 seconds.”

The crowd looked between the two of you, fascinated by the little tale the global rockstar was telling on this modest wedding stage. “I won’t be stupid this time. I promise to cherish every second that I’m blessed to have you in my life. I love you, Y/n. I have always loved you and I always will, no matter how much time passes.” You were holding back your tears. Jisung had always had your heart and despite you trying your best to keep your walls up, afraid that he would hurt you again, they all came tumbling down with every word that he spoke. 

“So, to the grooms. I hope that the two of you continue this beautiful love affair and cherish every single second you have together. Love isn’t something we should push down and trample on, it's something that is meant to be held on to, prized, and exalted.” He cleared his voice. “So, this is for the lovers in the crowd…I hope you love last a lifetime. I hope it never fizzles or fades and burns bright for eternity.” 

He strummed the first few chords of the song, the sound immediately bringing up fond memories of you and Jisung arguing over the best version of it, The Cure, 311, or Adele’s. You were always torn between 311 and Adele’s, while he was adamant that the original was far superior. It’s as if the rest of the world faded into the distance.

Call it tunnel vision, but all you could see was him and all he could see was you. You swayed gently, the gentle sea breeze dancing across your skin just like the melody of his voice. You hummed in tune with him, heart swelling as you realized, this song was for you. He was singing it, for you and only you.

“However far away I will always love you However long I stay I will always love you Whatever words I say I will always love you I will always love you…”

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You don’t remember the exact sequence of events but something clicked after Jisung’s solo performance. Maybe it was the look he gave you that made you feel like you were the center of his universe. Maybe it was the friendly banter you shared while having a few drinks. Maybe it was the late night stroll you took down to the beach or the way he held you to keep you warm. Or maybe it was the kiss you shared under the moonlight, the first of many for the night that got you going. But whatever it was that got you here, you were thankful for whatever combination it was that had you pressed against the door of your hotel room with Jisung’s lips and body pressed against yours. The feeling of his lips on yours felt electric. 

In your youth, you often wondered how it would feel to have that plum lower lips of his between yours. What it might feel like to bite it, just wanting to see his reaction. His reaction was nothing short of mind boggling. The groan that passed his lips, caused you to groan in return. Jisung’s fingers trailed over your body, slowly exploring every inch he could. Every inch that his teenage body begged to explore even back then. Every inch that he dreamed about, steamy scenes that played behind his eyelids every night. He had to be closer to you, the absence of you in his life had left a gaping void that he needed to fill. Right here. Right now. In the very moment. His shirt was first. Tossed somewhere to the side, leaving the tattoos and muscles that he’d gained over the last eight years. Your eyes widened, distracted by the hard musculature he had developed.

Your fingers traveled from his shoulders down over his pecs, making him shiver and whimper. The sounds give you ideas that your heart didn’t want you to act on, but your mind gave you the full go ahead on. “When was the last time..” You asked, hand in the center of his chest as you guided him backwards. He looked back, afraid he would fall, but you grabbed his chin making sure he kept his eyes solely on you. You didn’t stop until the back of his legs hit the mattress, then all it took was a simple push. Jisung was at your will. His round eyes shining up at you with pure anticipation in them.

“When was the last time you had sex, Ji?” You took off your red blazer fist, tossing it on a nearby chair. Next came your vest, you slowly and methodically took your time with each button, simply because you could, but also because the only thing under it was your bra. His eyes darted around, he swallowed hard. His blood was rushing straight to bulge in his pants.

“I-I don’t know. I-it’s been a while..” He kept his statement vague, too overwhelmed by everything that was happening to pinpoint an exact date. “A year- I think. Maybe more.” You smirked, shrugging the vest off your shoulders and tossing it to be with your blazer. You reached down and grabbed his hands, placing them on the waistband of your trousers.

“Take them off.” Oh the look of panic in his eyes set your heart aflame. He was absolutely the cutest. And even though you weren’t normally one to take full control in situations like this, you were oh so looking forward to taking advantage of your dear friend's vulnerability. He was going to be your tonight. The man's trembling fingers reached for the button, almost too shaky to undo them. You were patient, running your fingers through his silky hair. It took him a few minutes, the cool cross-breeze from the open balcony window offering a little air to cool off the heat on your skin. “Panties too.” God, the way the words sounded as they entered his ears did more for him than anything ever did. He’d been waiting to hear those words forever at this point. 

His brain nearly malfunctioned when he moved a little closer to slip off your panties, your scent filling his waiting nostrils. He could explode. Would you think bad of him if he came right now? He’d promise to make it up to you. He must have been led by another power, because he would swear that he had no body autonomy at that moment. His brain wasn’t even at a functioning level that would be considered functional.

You were bare before him, lust darkening your beautiful eyes. He whimpered. “Please..” He didn’t know what he was pleading for, but that didn’t mean you didn’t enjoy hearing it any less. He was pushed back on the bed, stripped of his pants and underwear. Things were going so fast in real life, but his brain had slowed everything else down.

He barely noticed that you had straddled him and started teasing your slit with his tip. He wasn’t even aware of the noises that were loudly slipping from his lips. Jisung was in a haze, one that was carefully crafted by you, the goddess that sat above him.

The whimper that fell from his lips when you slipped him inside of you was the most orgasmic sound to have ever filled your ears. His still shaking fingers flew to your hips, needing something to ground him at this moment. His blunt nails dug into your sides as you teased his tip, letting him dip only a part of it into your entrance. “God.. please…. Please…” He begged, voice strained and whiny. 

He was definitely going to explode like this. He hadn’t even fully entered you and he was already losing his mind. He bit down on his bottom lip, eyes slipping closed as he tried to control himself. But his hips had other plans, he bucked up, pressing himself further into you and that was it, he came on the spot. The tight warmth was too much for him to handle at that moment. You pushed your hips down on him as he came, feeling the stream of cum coat your walls.

When his breathing calmed and his grip on your hips loosened, you pulled what little of him was inside of you out. Tsk’ing at the man underneath you. “Is my baby fucked out already?” You stroked his drenched cock, adding even more wetness by spitting on it. “You couldn’t even slip it in without coming, huh? What happened to that sex god of a rockstar everyone that you were?” He whimpered again, edging on overstimulation as you purposely targeted the head of his cock.

His fists were balled in the sheets, bottom lip chapped red from trying to bite into it. “S-stop, please..” You pouted at him before shaking your head. He deserved to torture just a little for all of the years the two of you missed out on doing this. You could have been his ages ago. His first girl and him as your first boy. But here you were eight years later, with a nice amount of experience under your wings. You were going to take full advantage of it. Jisung’s body convulsed as he came again. His body became rigid as he spurted his cum all over your lower stomach and hands. You jumped, surprised by the sheer amount of it.

You stuck your cum slick fingers in his open mouth, jolting his eyes open. His initial surprise melted as he enjoyed the taste of him on your skin. “Now, you are going to eat me out until I come. Got it?” You leaned down, grabbing his chin to make him look at you in the eyes. You opened his mouth and spit on his tongue, closing it back for him to accept it. You moved, lying down next to him. He wasted no time, getting between your legs expediently.

Jisung could die right now, happily. You were here with him, in the bed, his cum on your body and mingling with your own and pooling at your entrance. A feast, just for him. Everything and more than he could have ever asked for. He dove in, mind fogged with thoughts of you. Your taste. Your smell. That lustful yet dominant look in your eyes as you laced your fingers into his long, permed hair.

And the taste of you? It deserved five Michelin stars, two more than regular just because he said so. You tugged on his hair as he wrapped his plum little mouth around your clit. You used his hair as your anchor to move his head around as you saw fit. A hair pull to signal him to go faster, a pull to the left or right for him to move his tongue elsewhere. He was like your own little tongue flicking toy with a customizable setting. He lapped, sucked, and licked to both you and his content. His moans and whimpers almost outnumber yours.

He was in heaven between your legs, and would gladly mark his tombstone in this very place. His skilled tongue sent you barreling over the edge, your grip on his hair tightening to an almost painful level, but he didn’t complain. He was just happy that he was the one who was able to make you unfold like this.

Your other hand grabbed him by the neck, pulling him up to you for a passionate kiss. You could eat him alive if he let you. The hand in his hair slipped between the two of you. He had already started rutting his hips against you, desperate to feel you again. It was easy to grab him and slip him into you once again, but this time for real. 

Your breath hitched as his eyes rolled back. Your fingers still around his neck squeezed lightly as you continued to unmake and reassemble him with your kisses. He felt like he could feel every single atom that made him, him. His hips were slow to move at first, but once he built his rhythm, that was that. The sound coming from between the two of you was filthy. Spit and cum and your spent were mixing to make the glide in and out of your tight walls even easier for him.

Your toes were curled, knees digging into his sides as you squeezed your legs around him. “Fill me up, Ji. Fuck me full of your love.” Your name slipped off his lips like a prayer at your words. He’d give you the moon and the stars if you kept talking to him like that. “Isn’t that what you've always wanted? To make me yours?” He nodded frantically. You paused your words, fluttering around him at a more consistent pace. You were close, both of you knew it. Both of you could feel it.

“Yo-you are mine.” He kissed at your jaw, “Please, co-come with me. I- I need you-” He couldn’t get his words out to finish his thoughts. He had already murmured the magic phrase. “You are mine.” You came around him, pulling your lips only a breath away, taking in the air that escaped his mouth into your own lungs like it was the only oxygen you needed. His followed almost immediately, your tight cunt draining him of any energy of essence he had left. Your walls continued to flutter around him, even after every drop of him had been emptied into you.

Your hands fell to your sides, legs unlocking from around him. You had nothing left to give, but love to the man you’d loved most of your life. He rolled off of you, body slick with perspiration and the mixed essence that both of you expelled. He exhaled deeply, hand searching for yours, finding it nearby and over the covers. He kissed the back of it, eyes boring into yours. Unspoken words being said with just a look. The both of you admitting what you both knew as this escapade started. You were in love.

_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲

“Encore! Encore! Encore!” The crowd chanted loudly. The lights in the stadium had just dimmed, signaling that the last song had been played. But they still begged for more. The band was backstage, goofy smiles on all of their faces. Adrenaline is still pulsing through their bodies.

“One more, guys?” Jisung asked and they all quickly agreed. One more song to end the night. They headed back on stage to an onslaught of rabid cheers. They had one more song up their sleeves. A song that eighteen year old Jisung had pinned himself, one that embodied the way he felt when he saw the heartbreak in your eyes when he pushed you away. He wanted to do nothing more than to wipe your tears, and hold your hand.

To tell you that everything would be okay. That he loved you, forever and always. Because to him, there was no him without you. He stood amongst his band on stage, belting the lyrics to the song. Eyes focused on the only person he wanted to see in a room full of people, the woman he loved. The person almost all of his songs were about. You, with that big proud smile plastered on your face.

“'Cause all I want is you, not your tears 눈물이 마를 때까지 I wanna make you the happiest one, no fear So baby, hold my hand now…”

FIN

© ✐Channieskies 『MINORS DNI! This post contains nsfw material. Please do not interact with it if you are under the age of 18. Do not translate or repost here or on other sites. Please leave a like , comment, and reblog if you enjoyed this story.♥』

SONG CREDITS: ✻BIG BANG - LOSER ✻ONE OK ROCK - WHEREVER YOU ARE ✻HAN - VOLCANO ✻THE CURE: LOVESONG ✻HAN - HOLD MY HAND

[crowley-winter-boots]

I would like to add my own take to some of these/further expand on what you have written.

Start stealing things from supermarkets and malls:

I've literally walked out of stores in the mall with unpayed items. Check for the chunky plastic white tags on it, or a silver sticker with a black dot: these will set off alarms when you leave the door and they are very difficult, if not impossible to take off without getting caught by employees. Supermarkets are more iffy, I've never stolen anything from one, but they have more cameras there. Small stores in malls typically don't, at least not any I can see, which I'm fairly certain it is illegal for stores to have hidden cameras. Wear baggy hoodies, you can slip something in your sleeve quickly. Basketball shorts, parachute pants, other bottoms with large pockets are great for slipping something in unnoticed. Also, DO NOT dwell on something too hard. It will make it more likely to get caught- act natural. A lot of people go into the mall just to browse, so it's perfectly normal to walk out without having bought a single thing.

Put stickers everywhere:

It is incredibly easy to make your own stickers. It is better if you have some artistic ability so you're able to format the sticker sheets properly, but it's fine if you don't have those skills. It's like a jigsaw puzzle, you'll have to rotate the images in weird angles and look for patterns of where one nook fits into one cranny. Repeating patterns are good, too. You just need sticker paper, a printer, and an app that you can import photos into and create the sticker sheets: I personally use Procreate, but that's because I use it for artwork and it was the easiest option on hand for me, personally. Ibis Paint X is free, a bit difficult to import photos in my opinion, but it works. I'm sure Word could work as well, though not as well. The less white space, the better, but make sure to leave enough room between each sticker as to have even borders all around. A common mistake I made when I first started making stickers was that I would accidentally overlap some stickers or make them touching.

Learn how to sew:

Here is a punk fashion tip: USE DENTAL FLOSS. I know, it sounds weird, but it's a great option. Cheaper than thread, you can buy it in bigger quantities, it lasts longer, it's sturdier, and overall just a really good option.

Furthermore, since I mentioned a punk fashion tip, I want to add my own way to protest here, as well as other DIY things you can do.

Battle vests/jackets are excellent. I'm making one, as well as my own patches to add to it. DO NOT put political statements or LGBT-oriented things on the back: this can, and will, put you in danger. Not only will you not see someone coming at you, but if someone sees it from the front, they are less likely to actually harm you since you can see them coming. There are some other punk DIY clothing you can make, including crust pants and just homemade patches to add onto something else. You also don't have to fit the "punk aesthetic" to be a punk: it's an ideology.

Some more punk fashion tips: You CAN paint on clothes and fabrics. Just add equal parts fabric softener to equal parts acrylic paints. This will prevent the paint from getting crunchy, make it last longer, prevent it from chipping, allow it to stretch with the fabric, and make it machine washable. You can also make homemade pins: acrylic paint, bottle caps, soda tabs, safety pins, modge podge, and a lot of hot glue. Put the safety pin through the soda tab, and glue the soda tab down with hot glue. Drown that shit in it- may seem unnecessary, but hot glue is stubborn with metal and does not want to stick. Do this BEFORE YOU PAINT, I made the mistake and everything peeled off because it warmed up and stuck to my table. When you're done painting, seal it with Modge Podge: it's a type of glue-like substance that seals paint, makes it shiny, prevents it from chipping and peeling, and makes it last longer.

Engage in art

Art does NOT have to be good. Art is about having fun and expressing yourself. It takes YEARS to become good at it, but even then there is always room to improve. Don't downplay your own efforts because someone else has skills you don't yet have. Get creative. Bring out those cheap art supplies extended family bought you on a whim when you were in grade school. Cut things up and glue them where they don't belong. Spill coffee on it, crumple the paper, and destroy it before using it as your canvas.

Be loud and obnoxious

This is one I'm adding in here myself. The right wants to claim queer people are shoving their agenda down their throats, but then wave MAGA flags and ask for heterosexual pride month? Wave those flags of yours, wear way too many (stolen, or DIY ofc) pins of pride flags and pronouns. Wear pride flags like capes. Dye your hair crazy colours, put on crazy makeup just to go out to the store. Being visible not only pisses off people that don't want to see us, but it also helps other people feel seen and safer. THIS CAN BE DANGEROUS. Like I said with the battle vests, YOU CAN GET ATTACKED.

I've been wearing my transgender pride flag to school. Pride flags are banned from being hung up, but nothing in the dress code prohibits it. This weekend, I will paint "WE THE PEOPLE" on the back of it. Teachers have pulled me aside only on the second day of wearing it, asking why. I've been called an "it" (doesn't misgender me anyway, I use it/its so jokes on them), someone (pitifully) attempted to throw food at me, people have been shouting "what the fuck" and "is that a trans flag?" in the halls, people have been sideyeing and staring at me. There have been good reactions too, of course, but I'm sharing my bad reactions to further imply doing this can be dangerous. I live in central Texas, for reference.

The negative reactions, since they have not directly harmed me, I choose to find funny. I laugh it off. I want people to see that being trans isn't something that can't be erased from existence. I want them to see people like me are not going anywhere.

Survive and be safe

Another personal addition- but DO NOT give up. I know that things are bad, and that things will get worse. But living is one of the things you can do to stick it to them. Listen to "Famous Last Words - My Chemical Romance", that song can probably explain this as well. Do not stop fighting, and do not stop living. Be safe, don't put yourself in unnecessary danger in this fight, because it's going to be a big one. Make sure your mental health is good, and if it's not do what you can to improve on it. Don't let the government tell you that you don't have a place here; because you do. Fuck the government. Queer people have existed since before the Ancient Greeks, it's visible in nature all around. Lions and hens have been known for transitioning to male without actually having the male reproductive systems. Penguins and walruses have been known for homosexual relationships. America is built upon immigrants- the original Americans ARE immigrants because they came from Europe to colonize these lands. America wouldn't exist without immigrants.

I hope the expansion on what Kurohe had written is alright/helps out! Be safe out there and be yourself. Don't water yourselves down for the sake of people who don't want to see you thrive.

Things you can do to actively participate in the revolution

Here's the list !

I know some of those will look really silly, i promise they are not. And obviously, this is not a checklist, you don't have to do everything. But they're steps that you can absolutely take if you wish to, and they WILL help.

(i am continually correcting things when people point out mistakes. Thanks everyone for your help)

(under the cut !)

1) Let's start off with a very easy one you can do right now: stop using Chrome. It's a google owned browser, and it sents all of your data towards it. Mozilla is a very good replacement, but almost anything will do, really. We revolting against capitalism as a whole, and this is a good first step

Also, resign your amazon prime subscription.

2) Start stealing things from supermarkets and malls. I am not kidding. Little things, that aren't really monitored: a can of food, a lighter, a pair of socks. Condiments are particularly easy to hide in bags or pockets. Steal hygiene products, steal food.

Remember that you should have access to those for free, and you don't because a few rich guys don't want you to.

Additional tip: train station stores are very easy to steal from, because they're so busy. But don't put yourself in danger. Check beforehand if they check bags at checkout, look out for employees that might notice what you're doing. Don't be reckless.

(edit: this used to also say airports, but i've been told it's way too high risk as it's considered a federal crime. Thanks for letting me know)

3) In the same line, if you see someone stealing anything from a big store, no you didn't.

4) I know a lot of people are scared of disrespecting rules. By fear of being caught, or by guilt. My advice is: start disrespecting stupid, meaningless rules. I don't have specific exemples, but you'll encounter them and wonder why you're doing that. Stop doing it. This will train you to be able to disobey autority way easier.

5) Put stickers everywhere. If you already have them, go ham. Especially on public property (lamposts are amazing). If you don't, buy them from artists or independant stores, not big brands. If you cannot afford them, remember that you can simply write stuff on an A4 paper and plaster it to walls. Or even post its !

6) Carry a sharpie with you at all time, the big black ones. If you see propaganda, scribble it out. Keep a look out for terfs stickers, maga posters, etc. Also good for getting rid of transphobic and sexist stuff written on public restroom stalls !

8) Learn how to sew. I know, that sounds dumb ! But i promise you, not only will it be amazing to trade with other people ("i'll sew back ur shirt and in exchange, you give me a can of peaches !"), corporations also haaaate when you know how to fix your clothes. Because they want you to buy more. You'll spend a lot less money if you know how to fix em

7) Buy locally. This means going to the market or small stores, and thrifting your clothes. If you can't for money or accessibility reasons, try trading with your friends, family and neighbours. Get communication going in your circles, and you'll realise there are a lot of things that you can simply trade with or buy from people around you. Like a jar of jam against some eggs, or a pair of socks for a t-shirt you don't wear anymore !

9) If you have the space and the money, grow your own food, and share it or sell it around you. Be careful, some assholes will call the FDA on you. Do that with people you trust.

Additional tip: growing vegetables and fruits can be a real nightmare. You can absolutely start by just growing some basil or mint :)

10) Organise. Join leftist groups online, even if it's just to see what's being said, you don't even need to interact. Follow creators, repost and share their content. By doing that, you'll stay informed on group movements like strikes, protests and boycotts, which you can then participate in. It's very important you're connected to other ppl and the movements that are started !

11) Unionize. I'm very sorry I don't know the exact way unions work in the US, but if you can, join one. They will help you in times of needs, especially if you're a student or a worker. If you're not sure how to do that, absolutely ask around to people you know are very active politically, around you or online. People will help.

12) Stay. Informed. Follow independant papers and news outlet. If you can afford it, give them a dollar or two. They are fighting everyday for access to unbiased information for all, and sadly, their independance means that they rely almost entirely on donations and people simply engaging with what they put out.

If you can't access those: do not get your news from TV. Ever. Or anywhere else that has been bought by the far right. Sadly, the majority of TV channels are just the worst.

13) Share that information. Talk to those you trust and who are ready to listen to you, and tell them about what's happening. Get angry with them. Revolution stems from people coming together and realising that they're being used and profited off of. Share videos and posts relating to politics, especially informative videos.

And, most importantly: fact check. All of the time.

14) Go to protests ! If you've never been, i know it can be scary. But you can stay in the middle (don't go all the way to the front, that's where stuff can get heated) and scream and walk with everyone else. You'll meet people who, like you, want things to change. Capitalism wants you to stay as unconnected to others as possible, and that's a great way to fight that.

Sometimes, there are sites that have a planning for all protests happening in a city. Look up if one exists for yours

15) Create and strenghten community. I know i really struggled with this one, because it's so vague. But here's a few places you can start:

-Go and introduce yourself to your neighbours, if you deem it safe. Give them a little gift if you can afford it, like a pack of pasta.

-Make new friends, even if they aren't deep friendships. You need connections. Online or irl, both are fine- don't stay isolated.

-If you already have community, go check on them right now. Ask your friends how they're doing, and if they need anything- ask how they're being impacted by what's happening right now politically.

16) Look for ways to fuck over the institutions in easy ways. One example that went around tumblr a lot is letting dandelions grow in your backyard, because landlords fucking hate it. If you work in retail or fast food, cheat. Accidentally forget to scan the diapers. Put in 7 nuggets instead of 6.

17) Engage in art. MAKE art. Music, shitty paint drawings, craft, anything as long as you're being creative. Share it. If you feel like you can't do that, then support artists. Make a point to look up cool illustrations, and new music. Go to the cinema.

(edit: been told that it's very risky for walmart workers to not scan things, so beware.)

If you're an artist currently in an underpaid office job, please, by the love of god, be creative during office hours. You're underpaid, they do not deserve your full time and attention. Take 30 minutes to write that snippet you've been thinking about.

(and actually, if you're underpaid at all: do the minimum required. So that you can't be fired, but that's it. Any more effort is not worth it. Companies will never be thankful for what you do.)

18) Look up books that your state banned, and go read them. You can get them secondhand, or as pdfs online. (if anyone needs ressources, i will glady look for and share them.)

19) Seek education. There's a lot of youtube channels out there talking about educational subjects in a fun way. Some things the rich assholes who run the country specifically don't want you to learn more about are: biology, history and archeology, social and economic sciences. GO LEARN ABOUT THOSE.

And, actually, read books in general if you can. Yes, fanfics count !

The people in power don't want you to be educated. It's why they eviscerated the education system.

20) PIRATE. I cannot stress this enough, anything you can pirate (that isn't from small, indie creators, except if you absolutely can't afford it) do it. Download music illegally, torrent movies and games. If you want access to academical studies and papers, some writers will give them to you for free if you email them about it. There are also ways to go around paywalls.

21) Don't fall for the traps of "progressive brands". Lately, i've seen a lot of praise for Ben and Jerry's for openly supporting lgbtq rights and being globally anti-trump. They are still a brand. Avoid buying from any big names when you can. That being said, if you have to, check beforehand which ones and what their history is. Some are more evil than others.

Additional tip: a lot of brands you see in stores are actually owned by bigger brands. One prime example of this is Nestle, who are fucking evil, but they own a shitload of other big names. Be careful what you buy.

22) I hate to say this, but be prepared to defend yourself. Revolutions are never peaceful. You will get in danger. If you can, get in ok physical shape. If you can't, buy a gun. (Remember Alabama has a 99% acceptation rate, you can get one in 10 minutes.) I hate firearms, but the enemy will have them too. Arm yourself.

If none of those are available options to you, please, make sure you have someone around you that will be able to protect you, or a place where you can be safe. Whether you are disabled, a minor, or anything else. Don't put yourself in more danger than is necessary.

23) Last but not least, be kind. When someone cuts off a woman speaking, interrupt and give her the floor back. Shame those who think it's right to say bigoted shit in public. Listen to those around you. If you can't act, then remember to always have empathy for the homeless, for drug users, for immigrants. Understand they are people just like you. You are not immune to propaganda and prejudice, no matter who you are. Always question yourself and your biases.

(if you've read this far, please repost. We need this to reach as many people as possible)

I want to remind you that you're not alone. I know things seem hopeless, but the simple fact that you're reading this is proof it's not. I don't live in the US, but i'm supporting you as best i can from where i am, and sending you strenght.

If you have any questions, do ask away. I'll end on this image that's very dear to me:

[kitkat13001]

⋆⭒˚.⋆ 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞

⤷ eijirou kirishima x reader

⤷ friends to lovers, kiri implied to be taller than reader, inspired the song “look after you” by the fray

compassion is second nature to eijirou kirishima. he’s always willing to lend a helping hand, no protest and no questions asked. 

he’s the ‘bro’ friend, the big-brother of the group standing over you all like a shield. they don’t call him the sturdy hero for nothing. 

he’s saved your life plenty of times, common in your line of work. but most often the things kirishima saves you from aren’t as big as falling buildings or supervillains. 

he always carries an extra hoodie for you in case you get cold. he makes sure everyone drinks water on the weekend group hikes. he always, always offers to share his snacks and insists even when you refuse. 

he texts you to make sure you got home safe, even when he’s the one who drove or walked you. 

for god’s sake, this is the man that sprinted two blocks to a corner store to buy tweezers when you got a splinter one time a few years ago. 

you wonder sometimes how a heart as big as his even fits in his broad chest. 

every other weekend bakugou insists on dragging everyone out for a hike because he can’t catch up with you all over dinner like a normal person and needs to do something active. 

today’s hike had taken longer than you’d originally thought. bakugou got a little too ambitious with his destination, and then mina and denki had wandered off the trail, and then sero twisted his ankle chasing after them. 

it’s nighttime now, and everyone’s been dropped off. you’re the last stop, sitting in the passenger seat of eijirou’s car and wondering how long you can linger without it being weird. 

you sigh after a long moment of sitting in peaceful silence with the faint radio music, finally moving to get out of the car. 

“night, kiri,” you say in the voice of someone who really doesn’t want to say goodnight. 

he moves when you move, clambering out of the drivers seat with a little smile. “i’ll walk you up.”

you stop, meeting his big crimson eyes. “it’s a ten foot walk to the door.”

“yeah.”

“you could just watch me from here, y’know?”

he shrugs, coming around to your side of the car. “‘s no big deal.”

you can feel the warmth coming off his body from when he’s standing next to you. you’re staring up at him curiously, and he blinks down at you. 

“i can see your breath,” he chuckles, taking his scarf off and wrapping it around you loosely while you stand there, stunned. his hands linger on the fabric, warm on your shoulders as he beams down at you. 

“eiji, don’t you ever get tired of looking after everyone?” you ask after a minute, walking up to the door at his side. 

kirishima hums thoughtfully, thinking on it for a second. “i mean, maybe sometimes i guess? but not really, ‘cause i look after the people i care about. so it’s not really work for me, y’know?”

“but don’t you ever want someone to look after you?” you’re at the door now, but you don’t want to go inside just yet. 

“you do,” he replies with a little smile, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

you blink, stunned by the revelation.

“you always check up on me. text me good morning and good night. make sure i rest when i’ve been working too hard. carpool front seat so i don’t have to drive alone in the night.” he’s ticking them off on his fingers, an indescribable fondness in his voice. “and besides,” he adds cheerfully, “seeing you happy always has me feeling brand-new.”

you stare up at him with big, soft eyes. “kirishima, i love you.”

he laughs bashfully, scratching at his neck. “yeah, man, i love you too.”

“no, eiji, like i love you.”

he looks at you, meeting your loving gaze. his cheeks darken, and he looks almost nervous. “you…you do?”

you don’t dignify him with a spoken answer. you try to put any words you might’ve strung together into the kiss you pull him in for, clutching at his jacket to bring him down. 

he almost gasps into your mouth, but after a moment he’s cradling your face in big, careful hands like you’re the most precious thing he’s ever held. 

he’s grinning when you pull away, eyes like melting rubies. “i love you, too. but i think maybe you knew that already.”

dividers by @/saradika-graphics and @/anitalenia — one hug from kirishima could fix all my problems. no further comments.

[roanniom]

There's Something About You

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, NSFW, handjob, dirty talk, inexperienced!Eddie

If one thing is for certain, it's that Eddie has no idea how he's found himself here. In the bedroom of a cheerleader honor student goddess who shouldn't even know he exists. Yes, you've smiled at him from a distance in class. From time to time he's caught you giving him a little wave from across the cafeteria. But to be quite honest with himself, Eddie always assumed you were fucking with him. Throw a wink at the school freak and watch him get an embarrassingly unprovoked boner.

Yet here you were. Sitting next to him on your bed - disarmingly pink and covered in soft cushions and frills and all things girly and diametrically opposed to all that is Eddie Munson. Dark and crass and bumbling and weird Eddie Munson.

"If you flunk out of Mr. Flout's class one more time, what's going to happen to you?" you had asked him casually earlier in the day as you'd walked by him staring at his test marked with a big red F. Eddie had looked up at you, shock quickly melting into an indifferent smirk.

"There's always trade school, baby," he'd shrugged and thrown up a peace sign.

That was when you suggested he come by your place that evening for tutoring.

Eddie is no fool. He knows what girls like you want. So he'd made sure to come equipped with his trusty lunch pail full of treats that would take the edge off being Miss Perfect / Daddy's Little Girl / Goody Two Shoes - whatever mantle it was that you wished to pluck off your head and cast gently aside for one blissful night. He assumed maybe a downer, maybe an upper, maybe a combo of both. He didn't know you well enough to assume. You seemed happy enough when skipping down the halls with your gaggle of friends, but maybe there was a secret side of you that wanted to disappear. You seemed focused when you were working on papers or quizzes in your shared classes with Eddie, but maybe you needed something that would give you that much more of an edge. Something to help you lock in.

Or maybe you just wanted to be able to turn your brain off for a bit. Eddie knew what that was like.

Sitting in your room now, however, Eddie was less sure. You hadn't closed the door behind him and immediately asked to check out the merchandise. You hadn't proffered up cash in an attempt to speed along a transaction. Instead you'd sat him down with a textbook and a notepad and actually started studying. It was weird. Eddie wasn't used to this kind of drug dealer foreplay. He assumed you were just nervous, though, so after a while, he decided he would have to be the one to make the first move.

"What's your poison, princess?" he asks, after a few moments of silence has settled between the two of you. You look up from your own book and furrow your brow. When you don't speak, Eddie continues. "Upon which journey of medicated oblivion do you wish to depart?"

That doesn't seem to make it any clearer for you.

"Huh?" you ask. The way your nose wrinkles in your confusion is kind of cute, but Eddie does his best to ignore it.

"Drugs. What drugs did you ask me here to sell you?" He speaks plainly because apparently you aren't ready for euphemism. Wow, you must be really new to this space.

Surprise ripples across your face, followed by immediate amusement.

"I didn't ask you here for any drugs. But you're welcome to partake if you like, of course." You gesture to his pail, proving you had known what was inside all along. Eddie shakes his head.

"I don't sample the goods, sweetie. I just sell 'em."

You snort in response, a decidedly unladylike reaction.

"You and I both know that's bullshit, Munson. I've seen you in class. Nine times out of ten you're high as a kite."

Eddie smirks and runs a sheepish hand through his hair. Oh you'd seen him, huh? You were looking?

"Guilty as charged. Then what did you ask me here for?"

"To study," you answer simply. The look on your face, however, implies that isn't all there is to it.

"And...?" Eddie presses. Your smile grows wider and you close your book. You shift on the bed beside him in a way that shifts your skirt, baring your thigh. Eddie's eyes go straight to that exposed swath of skin, right on cue.

"And...if we fool around a bit, that's a nice bonus." You say it as if it is the most obvious thing in the world. Obviously that's an additional thing that would happen on a study night like this. As obvious as a round of flash cards or a homemaker mother coming in with a tray of cookies and juice.

Which reminds him...

"Aren't your parents around?" Eddie asks. He adds a lilt of humor to his voice, though he means the question seriously.

"They're in Indianapolis for the night. I'm here all by my lonesome," you say with a faux coquettishness that causes an ache to begin forming in his throat. "You're here to keep me company."

All of a sudden the closed door to your room emanates with a kind of vibrating anticipation. A rushing begins in Eddie's ears, followed by a high pitched ring. Is he going to pass out?

You take the book from his lap and place it on the floor.

"So what's your poison, Eddie Munson?" you ask.

This is it. Eddie is actually short circuiting. He swallows but the sound resonates as a cartoon gulp.

"We don't have to...that's...we don't need..."

You place a hand on his shoulder and it just about burns through the fabric of his shirt.

"I know we don't need to do anything. What do you want?"

Eddie hesitates, but you read it as him not wanting to push, so you take matters into your own hands. Literally.

'Wait, what are you - oh fuck." Eddie's eyes blow wide as you sink to the floor in front of him, kneeling between his legs with one hand on his thigh and one hand on his crotch.

"I'm narrowing down the options for you, Munson," you say with a grin. "Helping you make a decision. I know it was hard to decide what you wanted. Really hard, it seems." You put more emphasis on your innuendo as you begin to stroke him through his jeans. You're right. He's hard. Just from this fucking teasing conversation he is hard as a rock. His cheeks and ears burn with humiliation. 

“That’s…fucking…”

“Well I wouldn’t say it’s fucking. But maybe a version of it,” you chuckle. Before he even understands what’s happening, you’re unbuttoning his jeans and lowering the zipper. If he hadn’t been wearing relatively constrictive boxer briefs he knows he would have all but sprung out the moment you freed him from the denim. You cup him through the fabric of his underwear and slide your hand up and down. “Now what have you been hiding from me, hm?”

Eddie can’t speak. He truly can’t form words. This can’t be happening right now. The amount of times he’d fucked his fist to the thought of you…this was absolutely absurd. He must have smoked too much weed and slipped into a catatonic state, trapped in his own erotic fantasies because what the actual fuck. 

Eddie’s continued lack of response does start to unnerve you, though. You slow your hand on his clothed cock and look up at him, trying to keep humor in your voice. 

“What’s going on? You’re acting like you’ve never had a girl on her knees before.”

“Um…”

“Stop messing with me,” you snort. But when Eddie continues frowning, you drop your hand from his lap. “You mean to tell me…”

“You can get up for this conversation,” Eddie says quietly, reaching out a hand. He doesn’t like the juxtaposition of the power dynamics. You on your knees in front of him. A situation that should objectively make him feel powerful, and yet all he feels right now is small. You take his proffered hand and allow him to pull you up to your feet. When you take a silent seat beside him on the bed, Eddie knows he’s going to have to explain. 

“So…yeah. I’ve never ‘had a girl on her knees’ before.” You nod understandingly, but Eddie knows you can’t possibly fully understand yet. “I’ve never ‘had’ a girl…period.”

A beat passes.

Another beat. 

Eddie had been staring down at the leather bracelets encircling his wrists, fiddling with the frayed edges. But at the continued silence he looks up to find you watching him, eyes wide with comprehension. 

“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t realize, I wouldn’t have pressured you -,”

“No!” Eddie says a little too emphatically, making you jump. He grabs your hands to keep you next to him. “You didn’t pressure me at all. I want…this. I want…you. I just…”

“You just…?” you prompt, dipping your head down to force him to meet your eye despite his dropped chin. 

“I just don’t know what I’m fucking doing here, babe,” Eddie forces out with a humorless chuckle. You bite your lip to keep from laughing along. 

This is uncharted territory for you. Yes you’re experienced, but you’d really only ever been with guys who had way more experience than you. It was kind of where your forced confidence and teasing personality came from - a little bit of a fake it till you make it mentality. It usually kept guys from bowling you over or taking too much if they got the sense that you knew what you were doing. That you knew what you wanted. 

This is a completely different situation. You look at the shaggy-haired metal head in front of you and your heart throbs. Before this evening you’d seen him as a fun little roll in the hay. A cheeky little ‘fuck you’ to your overbearing parents and to the pristine nature of your wholesome image. Eddie was brazen at school. A loud-mouthed, swaggering, innuendo-spewing class clown with a guitar and a million things to say. You’d thought he’d be a decent ride, if nothing else. But now you see him, uncertain and shrinking into your bed, and you realize that you don’t know him at all. And based on the way he’s looking at you with fear and shame, he clearly doesn’t know you either. 

“That doesn’t matter to me, you know. Especially since I know what I’m doing.”

“Yeah, that I can tell, sweetheart.” Eddie’s laugh is genuine this time. He adjusts himself at the crotch, an action that calls your attention to the bulge still protruding in his boxers through his open jeans. He’s still hard. In spite of all the embarrassment and discomfort. Eddie Munson must really want you. 

Well good. Because you’ve decided that in spite of everything, you really want Eddie Munson.

When you reach down and push aside his hand, Eddie recoils only for a second. Your hand closes around his cock and he melts into the touch. 

“Jesusfuckingchrist,” he exhales. 

“That feel good?” you ask. 

“That better be rhetorical. Because this feels better than anything I’ve ever felt in the goddamn world.”

“That’s an exaggeration, Eddie,” you say, rolling your eyes. 

“No, it reeeeally fucking isn’t.”

“Well then you’re gonna explode when I do this.” Before Eddie can even realize what’s happening, you’ve peeled down his underwear, exposing his cock to the cool air of your bedroom. Your hand wraps around his length, feeling the velvety skin over his throbbing hardness and Eddie all but yelps. 

“Holy FUCK.”

“Yeah?”

“Ok now that is better than anything I’ve ever felt.”

You lick your hand and bring it back down to glide more easily along his shaft. You watch Eddie shudder.

“You do realize it will only escalate from here. You can’t keep saying that.” 

Eddie grips at the denim on his own thigh and grits his teeth. Your hand has begun to pick up speed. 

“Little newsflash for you, babe. I’m not exactly in control of the words coming out of my - GAH.” 

You smooth your thumb over the mushroom head of his cock, pleased by the wetness gathering at the tip. 

“You touch yourself, don’t you Munson? This can’t be so revolutionary.” You’re teasing him but you love how responsive he is. Love the way he looks at you like you’re made of shining gold. 

“My hands don’t feel anything like this and you know it.”

You lift one of his hands with your free hand and smooth your fingers over his skin. 

“Yeah. These calluses from guitar?” 

He can’t believe you’re speaking so casually while still continuing to jerk him off into oblivion. He’s the one being stimulated, sure, but how can you remain unphased when it feels like all of the heat in the universe is being concentrated in this room right now. Surely he can’t be the only one whose every molecule is on fire. 

When Eddie doesn’t respond to your callus question, you decide to take escalation into your own hands. Or rather…Eddie’s. 

When you place his hand on your breast, it has the exact effect you think it will have. Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline and his jaw drops to the floor. 

“Uhhh….” 

Dumbstruck. 

You decide that’s how you like him. 

“You gonna just sit there?” you ask playfully, dropping your hand and marveling at the fact that Eddie’s remains light and motionless when you left it. 

“What…can…how…?”

“Play with them,” you reply with a little shrug. When Eddie hesitates, you nudge him to move back up the bed. Once his back is up against your pillows, you straddle his thighs - just before his knees - and immediately get back to work on his cock. 

This time Eddie reaches for both of your breasts, and this time his grip is a little more firm. He begins to squeeze and release. When he finally gets adventurous enough to lightly twist your nipple through the fabric of your top and your unpadded bra you reward him with a moan. 

“So that…felt good?” Eddie asks hopefully. 

“You watch porn, Eddie. What do you think?” 

“I think I want to take these puppies out, let them breathe.” Eddie looks up at you with the biggest shit eating grin you’ve ever seen, clearly finally feeling more comfortable. 

“Ah, there’s the little shit I know and love,” you laugh. Your words send a zing through Eddie’s bloodstream but he suppresses it. There are more pressing matters at hand. Like the way your blouse simply falls away after he unbuttons it. And the way your breasts sit up in your bra - plump and ready for him to have his way with them. 

And so he does. 

When Eddie’s hands engulf your breast this time, their grip is definitive. You inhale sharply with the strength of his squeeze. Finally some stimulation. 

“It does feel good,” Eddie smirks. Your pleasure must be clear on your face. 

“Don’t get cocky,” you try to admonish him. It’s time to up the ante, so you wrap one hand around the base of his cock and begin moving your other hand faster up and down. 

“Holy shit.”

“There we go,” you say, satisfied. You’ve enjoyed being in control. This is such a rare luxury for you and you’ve decided you like it. The wet warmth blooming between your thighs definitely indicates that. 

“Hey…slow down…”

“Too much?” you ask, immediately slowing your motions, worried you’d pushed him too far. Eddie’s hands grip your breasts, almost as if to ground himself. 

“No it’s fucking amazing I’m just…I’m gonna cum - oh!” 

You immediately pick up the pace right back to what it had been a second ago. 

“That’s the idea, handsome.”

Eddie is lost in a flurry of sensation. Nobody has ever called him handsome before. But nobody has ever jerked him off before either, so maybe that’s not the most pressing thing for him to ruminate on. There you sit straddling his thighs with your hands moving on his cock, your breasts bouncing in his hands. He feels like he’s going to pass out if you don’t stop immediately. 

“Take off your shirt.”

“Huh?” Eddie asks, squinting up at you. Your words make no sense in the haze of his pleasure. 

“Take off your shirt,” you repeat, relatively urgently. He does as he’s told, ripping his shirt off by the back of the collar. When the fabric pulls up and over his face, he is greeted by the sight of you now without your bra. 

“Holy fucking shit.” 

You spit in your palm and begin stroking him again in earnest. With both of your hands focused on his length, your arms push your breasts together. Eddie moans on the verge of agony. 

“I’m gonna fucking cum.”

“This your first set of tits, Munson?” you ask, amused. This language is much more crass than you’d usually use, but there is something about Eddie - his lack of experience or maybe his unabashed enjoyment - that makes you feel comfortable speaking this way. 

“The first set that I can actually physically touch, yeah,” Eddie replies with full honesty and roguish smile. He surprises you by getting a big handful and pushing them together. His thumbs play with your exposed nipples and your hips begin to move against him. 

“You’re so turned on right now, aren’t you,” Eddie says through gritted teeth. His eyes squeeze shut against the divine pleasure of knowing that you’re rocking against him just as much as he’s rocking into your hands. 

It’s a glimmer of the dirty talk you might eventually be able to get from him. You like it. Like the teasing quality and the way it matches up to the way you’ve been addressing him. It does things to you and you know it would balloon his ego to know that you’re soaking through your panties right now. 

So you say the one thing that you know will throw him over the edge. 

“I want you, Eddie Munson. I want you inside of me.” 

The sputtering of words catching in his throat matches the way his hips stutter, cum spurting up and over your fists. It splashes hot and wet against his abdomen, which you had thankfully had the foresight to make him bare. Eddie lets out a guttural, shuddering groan. 

“Are you…fuck…jesus…are you fucking kidding me?” His hands fly off your breasts to cover his face. “God DAMN it.” 

Surprised by the sudden tone switch, you lift your wet hands from his leaking cock. 

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s….that was…I didn’t get to…” Eddie sounds confused and frustrated and breathless all at once. When he drops his hands from his face he looks up at you with a crumpled expression. “What about you?”

You have to bite your cheek to keep in the laugh that you know would hurt his feelings. 

“You just had your first handjob and you’re worried about me?” 

Eddie furrows his brow. 

“Well yeah. I want you to cum.” 

You shrug and gently dismount him. Reaching for your bedside table you grab a couple tissues, one which you hand over to Eddie. 

“That’s a hit or miss kind of thing, so don’t even worry about it.” 

Eddie wipes gingerly at the cum on his stomach and around the base of his flagging cock. 

“You mean…you don’t always cum?”

“Not always. But that’s normal.” You glide around your room, picking up your discarded clothes and dropping them neatly in your laundry basket. You open the top drawer of your dresser and pull out a gauzy white nightgown that, when pulled on, floats just to the upper middle of your thighs. You drop your skirt off your hips, leaving you in just a pair of panties beneath the delicate fabric. 

Eddie watches from his seat on your bed, still bedraggled from your shared sex act, shirtless with his jeans and boxers pulled down and his member now resting on his belly. It twitches with interest, however, at the sight of your nipples peaked through your nightgown. 

“I…I’d like to help you with that.”

Your face, and heart, soften at the earnestness in his voice. This poor, sweet, inexperienced weirdo in your bed wants to help you cum. Something that countless jocks and hot guys never even gave a passing thought to. Eddie stumbles to his feet and pulls up his boxer briefs and jeans. 

You climb back onto your bed into the space he’s now vacated. 

“Yeah? You want to help me cum, Munson?” You tease him as you lay against the pillows, one hand on your breast while you plant one foot on the mattress to bring your knee up. Your nightgown just barely covers your center, meaning Eddie can see a small swatch of your panties. Light pink. He feels his jeans tighten immediately. 

“I do.” He’s eager. It’s adorable. Eddie places a knee on the edge of your bed, mesmerized by the way your hands move over your body. 

“We’ll get to that,” you say quietly. Your voice breathy and inviting. 

“We will?” 

“Want to know the first step?” you ask. Eddie nods emphatically, eyes still trained on your hands, one of which has migrated to the apex of your thighs. 

“You’re gonna go home -,” You’re interrupted by a disagreeable harumph from Eddie. You smile. “You’re gonna go home and I’m going to touch myself to the thought of your cock.”

You can physically see the way the wind is knocked out of him. 

“Okay?” you prompt when he doesn’t reply. Eddie shifts restlessly. 

“Or I could help you now.” 

“No,” you disagree firmly. “We’ll build up to that.”

Eddie frowns. You know he’s disappointed, but you can feel your heart rate increase as you swirl your fingertip over your clit through your panties. Orgasms are hard for you to come by - pun intended - so you felt the urge to chase this one without additional variables. 

“Next time,” you add, hoping Eddie can see the promise in your face. He watches you silently for another moment, committing the image of you laid out and touching yourself to memory, before he nods and takes his knee off the bed. 

“Next time.” 

When Eddie leaves a few minutes later, the sound of his noisy van shuddering to life and peeling out beyond your window, you finally indulge yourself in the feeling you’ve been waiting for all night. 

You enjoy sex, sure. It wasn’t something that you had given much thought to. You’re pretty in a small town. You’re a cheerleader. It came with the territory that you were an object of lust and desire. Other young men enjoyed getting you naked and emptying themselves of their pent up hormonal tension. You found pleasure in the weight of their bodies and the knowledge that you were wanted. But there had never been much more to it than that. They rarely focused on pleasuring you beyond a tepid rub at the general vicinity of your clit. Their cocks sometimes rubbed a long neglected place deep inside of you, but the friction was always short lived. The occasional orgasm was always welcome but always fleeting. Even in the privacy of your own bed you found that they were often more work than they were worth. 

But tonight, you’d had a different experience. The man was beneath you, not on top of you. You had helped him reach a peak he’d never known before. And he’d looked at you like you were a goddess. 

When your fingers delve deep inside of you, you’re barely able to reach the place that aches with the promise of deeper pleasure. But for once, you have the feeling that somebody might be able to get you there.

When you cum from vigorously pressing on your clit, you cum with the vision of Eddie Munson in your mind’s eye. 

Next time, you think as you ascend. Next time. 

~*~ 

-

--

---

I really hope you enjoyed this. PLEASE tell me if you did and what you liked about it. I want to see if it is worth doing a part 2 <3

[mr-tony-stark]

Tony frowned and nodded.  “I get it.  But I don’t know, there was something then, when you got on your knee like you were begging me.  I don’t know.  It really feels like I’ve fucked up in some big way.  Not that you’re mad at me.  But I’ve made you scared that I’m going to just run on you if you do or say the wrong thing.”

He took Clint’s hands and lifted them to his lips, kissing them and rubbing his cheeks on them.  “I’m not going to lie.  I do still feel like I’m going to do something that’ll turn you off me.  But that’s on me not you.  You can do what you want.  When we had that fight, it’s because I fucked up big and you were mad.  And justifiably.  But I thought that was it.  That you were done with me.  I still can’t quite believe that wasn’t the thing, but we’re here and I trust you.  I love you.”

He shook his head.  “I don’t want to go too fast.  But I’m making commitments.  The lab is a big one.  And I like this.  I like us.  I just need to figure out the balance between work and here because I don’t want that thing I’m scared of to be me never actually being here.”  He caressed Clint’s hair.  “I’m not going anywhere.  I love you.”

“Seeing a lot of places with you definitely does sound good,” he spoke and smiled a bit and kissed back before he wrinkles his eyebrows a little bit. He wasn’t *unsure* of Tony’s commitment, but he was worried that a commitment like this was to much for him so soon.

Ever since their first real fight aswell when he was so sure Clint would leave just because they were annoyed at each other and had a disagreement made Clint want.. no *need* Tony to know that, it’s not how it works. “Tony, it’s not like that,” he spoke gently. “I just don’t want to scare you off,” he spoke honestly. “I know how unsure you where in the start and how easy you thought I would leave you and I just—“ he took a breath. “I really don’t want you to feel that way.”

[omgfangirlland]

The Shadows That Nurture 5

Chapters 5 and 6 are done! Yippy! Chapter 7 is going to be a slice-of-life type of thing because I don't want to time skip straight to the bats finding out quite yet. Also, did y'all know that Gothamite also means an inhabitant of NYC? Whenever you see me use that just know I mean an inhabitant of Gotham City.

Enjoy!

Masterlist || First || previous<< Chapter 5 >>next

NYC was hell on earth and that’s coming from a Gothamite.

Sure- did a rogue attack 3 times a week, maybe more, in Gotham? Yes. But NYC felt lawless and without rhyme or reason. Every day something was happening, every day a building went down if it wasn’t a whole street, every day a hero would almost run you over while you were just trying to chill in the air.

At least on the third Tuesday of every month, there would be no robberies in Gotham, at least if something happened to the city and Batman wasn’t around the rogues would keep the people safe. Here it seemed to be everyone for themselves, and the rent was heinous for the type of bullshit that went down, in Gotham it was pennies compared to NYC. The constant feeling of being watched didn’t help either it irked at the back of your head every time, only stopping in the safety of your home.

The shadows stopped talking to you as well, you could barely hear them anymore, your theory being that NYC was simply too bright compared to G. City. Visiting Midnight City helped keep you connected to them, it felt somewhat like Gotham. But Darkwing felt too much like Batman, making you paranoid, so you never truly lingered for long. You missed them. Missed the rogues, the garden, the kids, the manor. The house really grew on you.

But you liked it. You liked the chaos, the myriads of heroes, the aliens that kept trying to conquer the world, and you enjoyed how the heroes knew that sometimes the best course of action was to kill the threat.

You were still bitter about how Joker took Jason from you, about how Mr. Wayne hid that from you, so seeing Omni-Man, War Woman, Immortal and so many more deal with clearly deadly threats as they should be dealt with felt nice. They would never let Joker live, the clown wouldn’t have millions of kills, and he wouldn’t have gotten Barbara and Jason.

Of course, you’ve heard rumors that while Batman doesn’t go out of his way to kill, he lets others do the dirty work, everyone in Gotham has. You’ve seen Lois Lane cover some of the bigger, worldwide alien attacks that the Justice League helped with. Batman didn’t seem to have a problem with killing or seriously injuring them. He was either a hypocrite or afraid to lose it once he did kill a human, either way, both were bad options.

So, you put up with it, found yourself a studio apartment owned by an old woman, overlooking the fact that the whole building may have been owned by a gang, and kept on doing your online schooling. Kept on making art, donating to charities and shelters, found yourself a nice job pet sitting, and even did some volunteering at local shelters when they needed an extra hand.

You got better at flying, getting so fast you could go around the globe in 5 minutes. It was fun visiting the places you heard Bruce talk about to the others, Algeria, Argentina, Australia, Austria, Bangladesh, Belgium, Brazil, and China. You were planning on visiting every city in every country with this newfound freedom. It was fun, and Bruce didn’t even notice as you used more and more of your allowance.

Sadly, your moments of peace and happiness always seemed to last for a short while. You were happy with just flying, it opened opportunities you didn’t even think were possible, but you’ve never seen a meta whose ability was only flying, not if they didn’t have wings, and maybe paranoia settled in.

Were you just dreaming? Was this just a really long dream? Were you dead? Would you go off the rocket when or if other powers showed up? What will you do when they do show up? You wanted to be an artist, to paint until your heart gave away. But if people needed help you wouldn’t be able to stay on the sidelines knowing you’re more than capable of lending a hand.

You knew you already had some strength power active- you wouldn’t be able to fly that fast without your skin peeling right off. Maybe it just made your skin stronger? Well, that’s how you ended up in a forest, or deep in a park- you weren’t sure, you flew without thinking, your thoughts and theories eating at you until you had to act.

The tree in front of you had an average-sized trunk, maybe on the smaller side compared to the others around you. You’ve been staring at it for a bit, debating if this really was something you wanted to see if you could do. “Ignorance is bliss” flew through your mind, but the full sayings of these quotes always rang at the back of your head. “Where ignorance is bliss, ‘tis folly to be wise”.

Your fist met the trunk with a small thud, you didn’t feel any pain, nothing was happening, so you bit your lip, closed your eyes tight, and punched the trunk harder. You heard the wood splinter before you saw it, your eyes flying wide open at the sound. The trunk had a dent in the shape of your fist, not quite all the way through. You still felt nothing.

Maybe you shouldn’t have tested out your strength this much, Ivy would have been quite mad at you for destroying so many trees, each one thicker than the last, but you were simply curious and made sure to clean up after yourself. It was weird. If you hit fast enough your arm could go right through quite cleanly, but there was no pain, none at all… Is this how Superman felt?

In your excitement, you didn’t even notice the figure above you, watching your every move or the flying orb camera doing the same. And while the figure kept watching you grow in your powers for a year, watched you help around in small ways, mostly clean up and small muggings, the orb stopped after a few months.

It took a while for you to be able to lift as much as you could now, for the first half of your newfound power you had to break stuff like big rubble down before you could lift them, you still found it amusing how Red Flash stayed quiet about you, but how could he not when you shushed him the first time he tried to tell the others. The man wasn’t about to fuck with Cecil’s worker, even though he might have said a word or two to the old man’s face about child labor.

Despite all that you truly felt happy, fulfilled even. You were doing art, helping people, and despite still working on having friends during the day part, you were glad you left. You were on cloud nine, well, literally more than figuratively. You were flying above the clouds, basking in the sun. Nothing could cloud your life anymore.

…Where did the sun go? Your eyes opened, blissful expression turning into a frown as your eyes caught a dark figure flying just a few paces over you, its eyes glowing, a wide grin showing a full set of teeth, cape billowing behind it.

What. The. Fuck.

Tag list: @bat1212 @trashlanternfish360 @shycreatorreview @syrooo @a-lurking-fae @alittletiredcry @kittzu @plsfckmedxddy @blackhood1229 @nxdxworld @leeiasure @dandelion-delusion

hope I didn't forget anyone 😬

[mejaemin]

how to kick someone out of your house - park jisung

day one of my valentine’s day countdown! ♡

wc: 0.7k

summary: you and jisung would never host hangouts for the sole reason of hating the idea of having to kick them out. what better way to do so than avoiding it altogether?

warning: socially anxious ji and reader, this is literally so me, fluff, featuring the rest of dream! ji and reader get very much babied in this but its cute

an: this was heavily inspired by my own hatred for inviting people over, because jisung and reader’s dilemma is so real !!! how are you supposed to tell people when they need to leave ?!?! i feel like there isn’t a single way that isn’t like kinda mean

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the group is small, only being filled with jisung’s main friends but it feels so much bigger. they can get quite loud, altogether creating a sound loud enough to compensate for a small crowd. you’re tucked into his arm, watching a tv show that no one else is paying attention to while the boys engage in whatever wild conversation they’re having. some are making odd or inappropriate jokes, but you’re too preoccupied to laugh at any of it.

truthfully, you’d been dreading this get-together as soon as it was brought up. you already dealt with people enough today as work, but it was special for jisung and despite him not giving you much warning to mentally prepare, you still went to make him happy. it was quite overstimulating, and they’ve been over for quite a while, and you sleepily rub your eyes with a pout while you rest your head on jisung’s shoulder.

you can tell he’s starting to get there too, not being as responsive to the conversation. he leans back a little more against the couch, slouching and bringing you with him. after a few more detached responses, he pulls his phone from his pocket and begins texting you, looking at you expectantly.

ji 🐹: do you also really want everyone to go home or is it just me?

you: no, me too.. i’m so tired i can barely keep my eyes open ;(

ji 🐹: this is why i hate having them over.. how am i supposed to say, “i’m tired, can you get out now?” that’s so scary (ㅠ﹏ㅠ)

you: babyyy i cant do it either.. i’m no better than you!

ji 🐹: maybe we just fall asleep here? do you think they’ll get the message?

you: let’s do it!! anything to avoid having to say it out loud..

after shutting both your phones, you can’t help but giggle at your conversation. you’re both so similar, anxious and dreading the idea of confrontation. jisung’s arm wraps around your shoulder a little tighter, allowing you to rest your head on his. with your knees to your chest, you bring the blanket a little closer, covering you and him (mostly you) with it. you pull the oversized hood of jisung’s hoodie over your head, and finally let your eyes shut. eventually he falls silent and the weight of his head lands on yours, and you eventually fall asleep. one of the many skills you’ve developed since dating jisung was the ability to tune out his friends voices, and it’s something you’re very grateful for in this moment.

after a good while, your eyes finally open, and your heart nearly leaps out of its chest. everyone’s gone now, and not only is it dead silent but the lights were shut off. when you pull out your phone, immediately going to check the whereabouts of your guests, you finally relax into the back of the couch. the boys left messages in your shared group chat, taking pictures of you two sleeping while cooing about ‘how cute the babies are when they’re sleepy’ and how they were ‘soso responsible and helped put you both to bed’. looking down, you see the fluffy comforter from jisung’s bed over your laps. next to you, the boy himself is still asleep, neck in an incredibly uncomfortable position as he drools into his hand.

snapping a picture, you send it to them with a thank you message before shutting your phone off and kissing jisung awake. his brows furrow, putting his hands out in front of him as he sits up.

“hey, don’t.. don’t do that when they’re.. oh.” always so shy in front of his friends, he leans away from your lips before his eyes fully open and he notices their departure.

you smile, albeit tiredly, using your sleeve to wipe the corner of his mouth before leaning in to give him a hug. he thanks everything he loves that the lights are off, hiding his flushed cheeks while you do so.

sitting up, you take a minute to stretch. “they left, finally.”

he’s already up, taking the blankets in one arm and yours in the other to take you back to his bedroom. “oh, i’m so happy our plan worked. i was really dreading having to say something…”

he lays down first, opening an arm for you to rest your head on before pulling both blankets over your bodies. nuzzling your head against his shoulder you get comfortable again, ready to fall back asleep. you don’t even bother saying anything, simply nodding in response. you’re too sleepy to continue making conversation, and you know he is too, both of you drained from having to talk to people for so long.

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[seobinghard]

PIERCING — k.hj

[ ☆ ] summary: hongjoong needs help with his ear piercings. or he just really needs you.

pairing: idol!hongjoong x fem!kq employee!reader. tags: idol!au, older!reader (two years), fluff, suggestive. tw: suggestive, slight dubcon, hongjoong's very possessive. he's a red flag ngl. mind games. mind games. mind games. this work does not depict hongjoong irl in any way, obvi. wc: 0.5k i think.

there's something so intimate about helping hongjoong remove his ear piercings.

he'd injured his right hand during dance practice a week ago; ring finger, now wrapped in a splint, black like his hair, ruffled and a bit overgrown after the europe tour.

you're not supposed to be here—in the quiet of his studio, you should be back at your desk finalising the concept design for the boys' next photoshoot for dazed but how are to say 'no' when your favourite boy asks you so sweetly, "noona, can you help me?"

hongjoong sits comfortably in his studio chair, legs spread apart so you can stand in between.

he's wearing black jeans–washed out and ripped at the knees–with a plain black tee; simple, clean. nothing spectacular. yet you can't help but feel breathless in his presence; suffocating, almost.

breathing in, you tuck a strand of hair behind his ear, fingers deftly removing his silver conch piercing, then the hoop, then another, placing the jewellery one by one on a the desk behind you. you can feel his eyes on you, feel his breath burn against the skin of your forearm as he slowly leans into your touch like a pet would its owner. "like you touching me." he purrs softly, voiced laced with a flirtatious lilt. without warning, his hand glides gently up the back of your thigh, pulling you toward him as he looks up at you with a feline smirk, "like touching you more."

surprise paints your face, but you don't move. "j-joong, what are you doing?"

"i missed you," he murmurs, arms slipping around your waist as he rests his head against your chest. "did you miss me too?"

you and hongjoong are close, but you've always kept it professional, at least you tried to. he can cross a line or two–like now, but you've always been quick to shut his advances down. you know he likes you. and maybe you do too, but with how green you are in your career, you wouldn't risk it for a coworker's affection, especially not one so prominent and promising.

so you choose ignore his question and the heat in cheeks, and quietly move onto his other ear. "just ... tilt your a head a little for me?"

he does as told, reluctantly pulling away from your body. you can tell from the hitch in his breathing that he's not pleased. "you're avoiding me."

you are.

"i'm not." your words left your mouth a bit too quick for your liking. "i'm here, am i not?" you smile, praying he doesn't catch onto your desperation to dash out his studio and back to your little safe corner in the marketing office.

"you're glancing at the clock every second, do you need to be somewhere?" hongjoong asks, feigning concern.

he doesn't care if you need to be somewhere; you're right where you're meant to be. with him. and now that he has you right in front of him after three long months of being on tour overseas, of not seeing your pretty face and hearing your pretty voice call out his name, he'd be a fool to let you slip away anytime soon—not now. not ever.

"you're nervous," he whispers, grabbing your wrist.

you freeze, turning to him with flustered eyes. "what are you–"

slowly and steadily, hongjoong rises to his feet and before you can even process what's happening, you're backed against the desk, caged in his arms. "don't be nervous, baby. it's just you and me. you know me."

do you? because the last time you thought did, you agreed to help him remove his piercings—only to realise his intention was to trap you here in his studio all along.

you avert your gaze when joong leans in, but your defiance only makes his grin grow even wider. "noona," he whines, caressing your cheek ever-so-tenderly, "don't be like this."

he tilts your chin upwards and presses his lips on yours.

"joong, stop–" there's restraint in your voice, but it's quickly put out by his kiss as he tightens his hold on your nape, pulling you into him until your frown melts into moans, until your body completely gives out and you're nothing but a putty mess in his arms to catch, to protect, to care for. just like how he intended for you to be—all his.

"you have no idea how long i wanted this," he groans against your neck, leaving a trail of hot, heavy kisses on your skin before returning to your lips, breathing heavily, "you didn't answer my question. did you miss me? hm? tell me i've been on your mind like how you've been on mine."

there's an aching need in his voice, his eyes wide and pleading as if hearing a 'no' would crush him to pieces. you can tell him the truth; that yes—yes, you did think about him day and night, think about when you'd see him again, his name gnawing at you like a storm you can't escape. but, he also tricked you into his studio. two can play this game.

so, you tell him, "no. i don't."

hongjoong lets out a wry laugh, immediately catching onto the tremor in your voice. "fuck, my baby's a liar."

you're never leaving his studio.

© seobinghard 2025. all rights reserved. / m.list

a/n: chewing iron bars rn i need him so bad. this was supposed to be one paragraph LMAO tell me how we ended up here.