#i'm doing really well with reading these days
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⋆⭒˚.⋆ Self-On Kode with Mark ⋆⭒˚.⋆
idol!Mark x f!idol!reader
summary: you and you boyfriend Mark are paired up for an interview, but do you even know you're texting each other? No.
(cw: f!reader, idol!reader)
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.
Mark got comfortable in the plush, pink chair of the Kode set with a shy smile, "Ah hello, I'm Mark from NCT." He pushes his earbuds into his ears and begins playing his music, "today I'll be known as Cheetah. Um, I couldn't really think of anything else and the fans already call me a cheetah so it was easy to think of."
On the opposite side of the wall, you settle into your own chair while smiling at the camera while introducing yourself, "I was so confused when I was asked to pick a wild cat as my screen name. It was such an oddly specific category, and even weirder when you told me cheetah was already taken. Anyway, I chose Tiger because they're the next prettiest."
Your music begins to play through your earbuds as your phone vibrates from the first message from your partner. "Yo?" you read in confusion, staring at your screen with pure confusion, "is that it? This is a man isn't it? Girls don't talk like this."
On the other side of the wall Mark laughs softly, covering his mouth as he reads the message. "This person is so happy. I've never seen anyone write hi with this many i's."
You and Mark text back and forth for a while, sharing your hobbies and sending memes back and forth until the both of your are giggling madly on your respective sides of the set. Of course, after nearly 2 years together you'd know how to make each other laugh, even without knowing you're texting each other. Your partner still doesn't give you any identifying traits or hints as to who they are. Well, besides clearly being a man based on how he texts.
Following the instruction of the staff, you send a screenshot of your home screen. You pout, feeling slightly bad for your partner. Just two days ago you'd gotten a new phone and hadn't yet had the time to make it yours. It was stuck with the boring default background and a handful of apps you considered to be essential. You explain as much with the text accompanying the screenshot.
And Mark's screenshot? Well, it might as well be just as boring as yours. He has the blur set on the photo so all you see is an indistinct mess of colors. Two distinct blobs which could be the shape of two people or two flowers or two guitars or two cats.
"Wow," you say as you typed out the word, "we are two very boring people. You really don't want me to know who you are."
Mark laughs out brightly while he reads your text, "me? You haven't even changed your own yet!"
"I told you I just got a new phone and haven't had time yet!" You laugh to yourself while typing out your message.
Your joking back and forth gets the two of you off track while you playfully poke fun at each other back and forth until the staff ask you both who you think you're texting. Mark looks at the camera while he tries to think, "I have no clue. It's a girl, surely but it could be anyone. Do you pick random people off the street to do these videos?"
On the other side of the wall, you blush softly, covering your face while your face cools down, "is it weird if I say it's my boyfriend? He just seems so much like Mark."
It's one of the few times you've ever referred to Mark as your boyfriend for any sort media. You and Mark had technically been a public couple for about a year now, since your respective companies had come out with their statements to reveal your relationship. How you'd been able to conceal a year of your relationship was beyond the both of you. Well, a lot of dark, oversized clothes and hats and masks to conceal your faces.
After the company statements, you and Mark seemed to be even better at hiding. You barely glanced at each other at award shows, and if you did, it was only friendly, nothing that could be interpreted as anything else. There were very few glimpses into your relationship beyond birthday and anniversary posts with obscured faces and sharing each other's most recent comebacks on your stories. Privacy was something you both valued and of course you were more than ok with doing any type of promotion with Mark, it just never worked out that way. Until now (not that you knew). Plus, it wasn't like this interview would give anyone any important details of your relationship anyway.
When the staff prompt you both to share a screenshot of your most recently listened to songs, you stare at your screen with a look of blank surprise, "this is just a mix of Drake and Justin Bieber. It's Mark, it has to be."
You zoom in on the picture, mumbling about how you see more music that is so distinctly Mark while on the other side Mark looks at the screenshot you send excitedly. "She's a fan! Of me! Wow, she's listened to Child and Golden Hour and 200! Ok, I have to chill out a bit," he tells himself even as he types out his message telling you that you have good music taste.
You snort at his message just as the staff laugh at the exchange at the same time. The head producer instructs you both to find your baby pictures to send to the other.
You look up from your phone, looking at the camera and the staff, "surely, you'd think a couple who have been together for this long have seen pictures of each other when they were kids, right?" The staff nods in response before you speak again, "well, we haven't! I've only seen what has been posted online. Same for him!"
Mark sends you a picture of him as a baby where he's a few months old and you coo immediately. You zoom in as close as you can drawing your phone closer to you face as you star adoringly at the baby on your screen. "He's the cutest little thing I've ever seen! I've never seen a cuter baby in my life! Oh, I just want to squeeze his cheeks and cuddle him," you gush over the adorable picture of the chubby baby boy with an adoring look on your face.
Mark looks at his phone, the camera, the staff, his phone again, the camera again with a look of pure and utter confusion as he looks at what he can only assume is a child covered in frosting. "You can barely tell this is a human, how is this supposed to help me figure out who I've been texting?" Mark asks, zooming in on the picture while the staff bursts out in laughter. When he finds out who he's talking to...
So when he staff ask for a final guess as to who you've been texting you say Mark's name confidently while Mark ultimately utters out, "Maybe someone from a girl group... maybe it's Yeri."
When the staff ask you both to stand and get ready to face each other to reveal yourselves. Instead of walking toward Mark, you find yourself behind the set so you're behind Mark.
Mark walks forward slowly, waiting to see when he'll spot his interview partner, but when he sees an empty spot, he faces the camera and the staff with a quizzical smile, "was I talking to a ghost?"
They laugh softly and murmur amongst themselves while you finally reach forward and tap his shoulder softly. Mark jumps, completely scared by the touch. He turns to you with his eyes wide with surprise, "you?!"
"Yes, me!"
After you're both seated at the high top table and calmed down from the surprise meeting with on another, you're both ready to talk to each other in front of the camera once again. You smile softly at your boyfriend, "I knew it was you."
Mark scoffs, "how?"
"Yo," you repeat the word from his first message with a poor imitation of his voice, "all the Drake, all the Bieber-- oh my gosh, Mark! Your baby picture!"
Mark laughs, taking your hand in his out of view of the camera, "speaking of baby pictures, what did you send me?"
Your brows furrow softly at his question, "I sent you a picture of me as a baby."
"There's no way that was you. You look like a little cake monster."
"It was from my first birthday..." you pout at Mark.
"Don't get pouty with me, you were completely covered, how could I have known? I can pout too! My face used to be your homescreen and now it's the plain default screen," Mark tells you with a playful pointed look.
"Mark," you deadpan, "you were with me when I got my new phone."
"Oh yeah..." Mark blushes with embarrassment.
"Anyway, who did you think I was?"
Mark squeezes your hand nervously beneath the table, his thumb rubbing at your knuckles a little anxiously, "I had no clue, to be honest. I knew you were a girl but I didn't know it was you."
When the staff ask Mark how he didn't know but you did, all he can do is blush and laugh out a nervous response. You turn to him with a playful accusatory look of your own, "yeah, how come you didn't know?"
"I don't really pay attention to how you text, just what we text about..."
You and the staff coo as you pinch his cheeks and cup his face lovingly, "you're so cute, but you were cuter as a baby."
"My mom says the same thing," Mark rolls his eyes.
Your conversation winds down and you both pose for the selfie at the end. You both pull silly faces, cheeks pressed together and eyes scrunched shut with your tongues sticking out.
Despite the stupid picture you both took, the screen fades to black with a completely different picture of you and Mark laughing while looking at each other with hearts in your eyes and bright smiles on your faces.
#kpop imagines#kpop au#kpop scenarios#kpop reactions#nct#nct imagines#nct fluff#nct x reader#nct dream#nct dream imagines#nct dream fluff#nct dream x reader#mark lee imagines#mark lee x reader#mark lee fluff#mark lee scenarios
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I'm not a musician or a writer but I do feel this can apply about visual works like animations or movies too!
As an artist I love oogling a good piece of media like anyone else, but when it comes to movies my favorite thing in this world is a good piece of cinematography in a film. Holy shit.
Having a friend who works in film, and is crazy passionate about it, who has explained how some things are achieved or handled only makes me analyze shots and movement more these days.
I love the idea of how storyboards work from conception to final shot, and a lot of times when I watch a complex scenes, or see a crazy colorful arrangement I'm lost in that thought train of "how did they achieve that?" "what did that board look like?" "what was the conversation about this like??" I'm lost admiring composition set ups and such.
I think that's kinda the beauty of any kind of media; deconstructing it down to why it's hitting or missing with us. The beauty of discussion and media analysis!!
Why a piece of writing is received well, and what sticks it in the consciousness of the world or what it could do better - what YOU may do different, or what inspires you. There's a reason people love to quote books and writers - reasons sentences stick with you and make you pause at times reading a truly good book. It could be a line about something as simple as the turning of the season, but what words slotted together to make that image might really HIT something.
What a song is doing lyrically that's impressive, or what about the background/instrumental track is good - is that a sample? What are they doing to achieve that little hook that's going on? Are these two things meshing well? There's so many times at work I've put stuff on a playlist to listen to and pick apart later. Playing mostly harmony roles in orchestra in my childhood gave me an appreciation for what's going on in the background, and it's interesting to really LISTEN for that stuff tbh :0
But movies are a big thing for me as an artist... I love going to the movies, sure!! But sitting at home on my PC while I'm working on art? A movie going on half my monitor, and pausing every so often to admire a shot, a composition or a sequence of how a camera moves through a scene? Man. Rewinding and analyzing a shot and how they frame things - visualizing the layout planning? So fun. So neat. Inspiring, truly at times!
Media intake, analysis, deconstruction - whatever have you is so interesting in general. But it's also ya'know, some people just take it in and nod their heads - ALSO VALID!!
okay sorry, one other thing annoyed me about that writing class. one of the students is this super clean-cut doctor who works at an HIV clinic, and he asked the prof "do you ever get distracted while reading books, because you find yourself analyzing the craft of them instead of sinking into the story?"
and she said "no," and turned away. and the whole class laughed awkwardly, bc it was a pretty abrupt and dismissive answer. so then she turned back to him and said "you wouldn't ask a musician if they get distracted listening to songs. they just enjoy the music."
but I dunno, I'm a newbie writer with only one (scheduled-to-be-published) book under my belt, but I get distracted sometimes when I'm reading. if I find I'm not sinking into a block of text, I'll squint at it and be like "okay, they're using too much passive voice, that's why my brain isn't grabbing on to it." so I'm sorry Mr. HIV doctor, I thought your question was reasonable!
#long post#I HAVE A LOT OF FEELINGS ABOUT DEEP MEDIA ENGAGEMENT HONESTLY...#like I just love media analysis and engagement and people really digging into what resonates with us#I love when a piece of media makes me feel ANYTHING and there's so many times I admire a pretty sentence#or a well done musical leitmotif or something - mind you love people relearning that word god fucking bless#and I love that more people are starting to really understand what cinematography is and how it makes or breaks a movie#the number of people in highschool in my filmart class who were like WTF is that and me just over there like blese I'm dying.... ;;#I'm sure this kinda thing could be said about ANY medium of creation ;w;#a TREAT FOR THE SENSES~ but that's such an odd take honestly about... the construction of something not being a background thought even#but brains all work different!! some people just ingest a piece of media and others pick it apart - people are right either way!#but it's interesting to see both sides when it comes to a media!
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Stepdad and son time
-Calm down old man, A cigarette won't ruin “My” body-
My stepfather Steve smiled confidently at me and then flexed his huge arms just to reinforce his point.
-I even think they are a little bigger than the last time you saw them, right Steve?-
Despite being outdoors the powerful aroma that came from the smoke reached my nose, that aroma was so familiar, but at the same time it was different I could remember the taste, however I had never tasted one. It was the old and dry lips of my stepfather, those Who remembered the delicious and soothing taste of that horrible habit.
-Oh! How rude I have been... Do you want any of this?? -
Steve took a couple of steps towards me and held the cigarette towards my face, the same face he had left behind 3 years ago. I'm not sure how he did it, but I have no doubt that he is to blame for what I now look like. As an overweight, middle-aged Southern man, I couldn't resist the soothing taste of a good cigarette.
Suddenly my mind relaxed and all the hatred I felt for the guy who had ruined my life vanished. Steve looks as damn happy and confident as the last time I saw him. We continue fishing, drinking and talking as if we were really a couple. Stepfather and his son having a good time, son of a bitch…
When I lived with my mom, he and I never got along well, sometimes we went days without talking even if our room was only a couple of meters away. To me, Steve was just a lazy idiot who was lucky to find someone like my mom.
Although my mom tried to get us closer multiple times, she didn't succeed, Steve and I were very different. I used to be a sports fan, I spent time with my friends playing all day or sweating in the gym, but all that changed when I turned 21 years old, Steve suddenly began to take an interest in my life in a somewhat obsessive way. He started watching the videos I posted about my workouts on Instagram and looking at my friends' profiles.
But the most obvious proof that he was the cause of all this was that just a week after we "mysteriously" woke up in the other's body, Steve left the house in the middle of the night with my motorcycle, the selfish bastard. The only thing he left me was his social security number and a small message:
“I'm sorry that we couldn't find out what caused us to exchange our bodies, but I think we should both continue with our lives. Take care of your mother and don't worry... I'll go visit.”
Since that day my life has been shit, I don't know what the fuck he did to me, but since that day I've had to fight every day with that little voice in my head That makes me act like an idiot, Sometimes and all I can think about is How damn hot it is in the house and how good I could use a six-pack of beer. I guess he thought he would do me a favor by doing that to me to blend in more, or maybe I'm just his trash can where he dumped his shitty habits including his taste in women and Susan, my mother.
Every night before I go to sleep I try to be so fucking drunk that I forget what I do at night with my own mother and when I can't get my mother to give me money for the beers I masturbate furiously in the bathroom to relieve my desire for the disgusting sex with mom
If you're still horny and want to read more of my m2m bodyswap stories, subscribe to my Ko-fi I have over 250 stories in my archives
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U
♥--------♥--------♥
Pairing: idol!Bangchan x fem!Reader
Other Characters: none
Summary: You break up with Chan, but he won't let you go that easily.
Genre: angst, hurt/comfort?
Content warnings: there's a break up happening, lots of heartache and crying
Word Count: 985
Screenshots: 3
A/N: *my life, my love is you* U is just a great song and it hurts me so good every time I listen to it. Also, this went through several rewrites, but I also didn't really proofread it lol. I almost cried writing it though because hurting Chan even in fiction is just cruel and it hurt my soul.
♥--------♥--------♥
"Well, I'm sorry my passion is such an inconvenience for you!", Chan yelled. He was fuming, restlessly pacing through his living room. "That's not what I was saying and you know it", you retorted from where you were sitting on the couch. You were angry as well, but more than that you were tired. This was the third time this week the two of you blew up at each other. Once again you'd felt neglected, once again he'd gotten lost in his work, swamped with appointments, too busy being an idol.
And it was thoroughly exhausting to fight with him. Because you loved him with all your heart, you did not want to fight. But you also didn't want to feel left on the sidelines, like an afterthought. Things had been going downhill for a few months now. You wondered how you'd ever managed to balance the relationship and his profession. He'd asked you to quit your job and just follow him wherever he went. But that was not fair, you thought, that you had to give up your own dreams to be with him.
"This is not working, Chan." It hurt you in your soul to speak the words, but you felt yourself reaching a breaking point. "We are not working anymore." He stopped in his tracks and stared at you. "You don't mean that", he said, all his rage suddenly deflated. "No, I do, actually. Look at us, we're a mess. All we do lately is fight." "So what, you want to break up? Throw us away?" You felt the tears coming, felt your heart clenching painfully in your chest. "I don't know, Chan. All I know is that I can't do this anymore."
Chan took a seat on the couch beside you and reached for your hands, but you pulled away. "Please don't make this harder than it already is", you whispered as tears started running down your cheeks. "Baby...", was all he said as tears also filled his eyes. "I'm sorry, Chan. We tried...I tried....but I'm exhausted." "Don't do this, babe", he begged, reaching for your hands again. You didn't pull away this time, letting him grip you tightly. "I love you", he said. "I love you too", you said, "but it's not enough anymore."
***
The following weeks were torture. You went into survival mode, functioning at work and falling apart at home. You barely slept, and if you did, you were crying yourself to sleep. After three days of total isolation, your friends started to worry and showed up unannounced at your place. They kept doing that, making sure you ate and took at least somewhat care of yourself. They tried to cheer you up, tried you distract you, but all you thought about was Chan.
Everyday you asked yourself if you did the right thing. Everyday you reminded yourself of why you left, why you had to break it off. Everyday your thumb hovered at least once over the "unblock" button in his contact on your phone. Everyday you felt less like yourself, less like a person, less alive. It was as if breaking up exhausted you far more than fighting with Chan ever had.
Three weeks went by like that. Three weeks of you walking around like a zombie. Three weeks of missing Chan with every fibre of your being, missing his hugs, his voice, his love. And then you couldn't take it anymore, your thumb finally hitting that damned "unblock" button.
You were swamped by messages from him.
Your heart lurched in your chest with every message you read. You had to go over it several times, rereading every line, eyes blurry with tears. And by the end you finally realised what he was saying, so you got up and checked your mailbox. There was indeed an envelope in there, your name written on it in Chan's handwriting with a heart next to it.
Hastily, you went to the living room, opening the envelope on the way. There was a USB Stick inside and a small note.
Y/N, I miss you so much. I made this song for you to show you that I'm willing to fight for this relationship. Please give me the chance to fix this. I love you, Chan.
You started at the note, thumb brushing over the handwritten words. A tear landed on in next to his name. You missed him so much. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, then you grabbed your laptop from the couch table and inserted the USB Stick. On it was one singular audio file: For Y/N
With shaking hands you opened it and the song started. You fill up my mind 24/7... It was beautiful, hauntingly so, the lyrics piercing your heart. When it was done, it just started over again, and you let it. You played it on a loop, again and again, your quiet tears turning into full on sobs, as you fell apart on your couch.
It took you a while to process the song. To process Chan's messages and the lyrics and the fact that he had dropped a USB stick in your mailbox just a mere hour ago, because it was the only way he thought to get the song to you. He'd been outside your door, so close to you yet so far away still.
When your sobs finally died down and your mind stopped racing at light speed, you knew what to do. You picked up your phone, Chan's contact still open, and pressed the call button. He picked up immediately.
"Y/N?", he said hesitantly. You stayed quiet for a moment, words stuck in your throat. "Please say something", Chan said, voice shaky. "I listened to the song", you managed. There was another pause. "Can you come over?", you asked. You could hear him let out a breath of relief. "Open the door."
♥--------♥--------♥
Masterlist
#stray kids#skz#stray kids fanfic#skz fanfic#bangchan x reader#bangchan x female reader#stray kids bangchan#stray kids bang chan#skz bangchan#skz bang chan#skz chris#stray kids chris#skz texts#skz smau#stray kids texts#stray kids smau
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tumblr decided to fuck with me today and post this while unfinished 2 TIMES. like okay girl I'm working on it jeez ✋🙄 tumblr sub!ellie enjoyer #confirmed.
this was supposed to be a short blurb but as usual i got carried away cus it was too fun to write lol. sub!ellie has been plaguing my mind I'M SICK (ovulating), enjoy. also @hypnagogics thank u tvin for the idea and encouragement
warnings: smutty smut smut, bottom sub!ellie yum, praise, use of sex toy, written at like 1 am excuse any grammar mistakes
MDNI!!!
"What the fuck are those?"
A mysterious black box sits in between your red-headed friend and you, perched on top of the couch you're both currently lounging on. You've been busy these past couple of days, to say the least, after discovering a certain shop on your patrol. The lone mall you came across outside of town was surely filled to the brim with supplies, you thought as you entered, exploring different stores and rooms when something bright colorful and caught your eye.
A neon pink sign reading "Lovehoney" flickered above a shop you've never seen before; it looked half-empty, with just a few lonely mannequins posing in the window, their bodies clad in nothing but mismatched, lacy underwear. Intriguing.
You swore you would only take one, maybe two...fuck it, three. Oh, but the rainbow one is so pretty. Whatever. You honestly did not know how it happened, but that day you carried home at least 5 sex toys. They were all different sizes, shapes, colors, intended for different purposes. Obviously, you picked up a stack of batteries you found behind a counter, hidden away behind some dirty magazines (you took those too), and a harness, just in case. Okay fine, some lingerie as well.
In that box, which your dear friend Ellie was looking at and referring to, were those exact sex toys. You try not to laugh as you look at her confused face, snickering at her question.
"Els, seriously? You don't know what these are?" you ask her, holding up a purple vibrator.
"Yes, seriously. I-I mean, I have a few guesses, but..." Ellie says, pink blush evident on her cheeks, teeth gnawing on her bottom lip in curiosity.
"What are they, hm?" you tease her, finding this a little too funny.
"...sex toys of some kind?"
"Bingo! Look how many I managed to snag, and they all work!" You happily say, gesturing at the bundle in front of you. Well, what else were you supposed to do in your free time? Of course you tested out every single one.
"They all...work?" she breathed out.
Shit, did you say that out-loud? You tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear as you look away, putting the toy back into the box. "Yeah... Yeah, they work...pretty well. I mean, don't worry! They're all thoroughly washed." Seriously?
A pause ensues and you think you fucked this up. Great, Ellie's gonna think you're a fucking weirdo now. Seriously, who shows their friend their sex toys? Weirdos probably, that's who.
Just before you were about to spew an array of apologies, your eyes suddenly snap to the girls hand as she slowly picks up a pink vibrator, a big, microphone shaped thing, and examines it, curious eyes flickering over the plastic. Okay, you're good. She doesn't hate you.
"I've never even fucking seen one of these. Jesus, how does— how does it work?" the cute furrow of her brows makes you smile as her hands spin the toy around, tracing the small buttons on the side.
"You're really asking me?"
Ellie scoffs, putting her hands up in defense. "What the fuck do I know? Just...never seen one before, so..."
God, she was cute, and clueless. You've never seen her this flustered, she even refuses to make eye contact.
You scoot closer to her, positioning your hands on her shaky ones as you place her finger on the 'ON' button.
"You press this and," she presses it lightly and the toy starts to buzz, which adorably startles her, "it does that, but here you can change the intensity. See?" You move her finger down, pushing it a couple of times to show her all of the different settings.
Hot, short breaths fan the side of your face and you can see in her gaze that she's intrigued, likely curious to what it would feel like. Before you catch yourself, you blurt out, "You can borrow it, ya know?"
Another pause.
"Sorry, I—"
"No, no, that's—"
Ellie sighs, furrowing her face as she feigns nonchalance, "I was gonna say it's not— you don't have to... I mean, I don't even fucking know how to use the thing, so... Like, the fuck do you even do with it, I don't—" she stops, looking at the pink toy again, "Whatever, just, yeah." She swiftly places it back in the box and scratches her neck, red cheeks and wide eyes.
Oh.
You think for a second.
Well, a friend would explain it to her; the placement, speed and all that. But, a very good friend would offer to show her, right? That's just what good, amazing friends do. Exactly. Definitely not because you've been absolutely dying to fuck her for months now, somehow always missing the chance to make a move. This was your in.
Fuck it.
"Uh, want me to show you?"
Beads of sweat gather at the nape of your neck, while sharp breaths brush against it in quick succession. Red hair tickles your cheek and your shoulder burns hot from the girl in front of you, her weak, warm body slumped on your chest.
"Oh, fu— fuck." Ellie rasps, her moans whiny and a bit shy as she gets used to the foreign feeling on her lower half.
Your hand sneaks its way under her shirt, quick fingers finding her pink, pebbled nipples, squeezing and kneading the soft flesh. In the other hand, the pink vibrator buzzes softly against the girls clothed core as you hold it in place, slowly trailing it up and down.
"Feels good?" you whisper into her ear and she nods, more eager than ever.
"Y-yeah, yeah, feels good." she's breathy and fidgety, but most of all, wet.
Wet, wet, wet. Fucking soaked. So much so, that you can hear it, even with the toy pressed up against her damp boxers, the color turning a few shades darker.
So, you press a bit harder, just to see her squirm in your hold, her tattooed hand coming up to squeeze your bare thigh and legs spreading a bit farther apart.
"Holy shit, please—"
"Please what, hm?"
God, were you enjoying this. Seeing the girl who half of fucking Jackson was afraid of, melt like absolute putty in your hands. Hearing her moans and pleas, feeling her warm touch on your skin, it was almost enough to send you over the edge. You would've never guessed she was a beggar, though, that was a nice surprise.
You smile into her hair, kissing her shiny temple. "Please what? Use your words." And she barely returns a coherent moan back. You already got her falling apart and you just started.
Ellie squeezes your thigh once more, bucking up her shaky hips off of the couch, "Can I take them off? Please? Please, please, please." The tip of her nose nuzzles your neck, the slightest touch sending shivers down your spine. Her desperation only fuels you more.
You chuckle. Oh, you were gonna ruin her.
"Only good girls get what they want, are you a good girl, hm?"
The toy trails up and down, pausing just where she needs you the most before continuing its path to her aching hole. It pushes and prods until her pretty moans slip past her swollen lips, getting muffled in the skin of your neck. You stop, lifting up the buzzing vibrator, just to drop it down again when you see her writhe beneath you.
"Yes, fuck, I'm being good, I swear!" Ellie mutters out and you can hear the slight hesitation in her trembling voice, this not being her usual role in the bedroom. Only a few have made it to this stage, her usual strong and somewhat quiet demeanour showing a totally different side to her.
But this, this side she doesn't let out often. This was absolutely different than any other hook up she's ever had. Hell, even Ellie herself wouldn't have guessed this is where she would end up tonight — on her friends worn-down couch practically, no, full on begging to get properly fucked.
A soft kiss is placed on your neck, just below your ear, your skin tingling from the sudden contact. She follows it by placing a few more sloppy ones, quivering moans slipping out in between. This was some sort of Ellie's way of bribing you, telling you to just take off her sticky undergarments and let her feel everything, she's been good so far, right? She deserves her reward.
"Please—" Ellie whimpers, so softly, so desperately that you barely catch it. You figure she's had enough.
"You can take 'em off. Slowly." You steadily take the toy off of her, a translucent string of slick sticking to it as you lift it up.
Holy fuck.
She was absolutely killing you.
Ellie nods, inserting her clammy hands into the waistband of her black boxers, slowly and painfully sliding them down her trembling legs. She returns to her position, thighs open so wide she would be embarrassed if she wasn't so fucking turned on. You take this as an invitation to continue and you place the pink vibrator just above her sensitive bud, testing out if she's ready as you massage her skin.
"That's it, good girl. You're being so good for me right now. You ready?" Fuck, you're shaking just as much as her and you're not even the one being touched.
"I'm-I'm ready. Mhm!" Ellie's almost unintelligible, babbling into your neck as she cranes her head to see your hand working its magic as it inches down.
As per her request, you lower the toy on her clit, starting off with small circles as you let her get used to the intense feeling. Ellie groans out, relieved that you finally let her have it. Finally, she feels the full effect of the pink toy that's been teasing her for the past half an hour. She's surprised she even lasted that long.
"Fuuuuu— Feels so good. Don't stop, please! Don't stop, holy shit—"
The sounds that fill the room are obscene, dirty, so fucking filthy. Wet squelches, whiny groans and curses fill up your ears and you swear you can feel everything you're giving her, almost on the edge yourself.
The vibrator continues to buzz deliciously against her swollen clit as you run your hand down her heated body, occasionally stopping to grope at her pretty tits and feel her quiver and babble in your hold. You can sense that she's close, needing that one final push.
"You close, hm? You gonna be good and come for me?"
Ellie, as good as ever, nods at your questions, eager to finally feel her release. As much as she was impatient, she wouldn't have it any other way.
No one else but you.
Her hips rock against your hand as you match up her speed, her pace messy and faltering as she chases her long-awaited high. Her breathing picks up and she moans louder than before, so near her peak it's almost painful — almost like she's waiting for your much needed approval.
"You can come, baby." You nod, voice hushed as you watch her with blown out pupils.
And she does, she comes so hard she could swear she's in another dimension. The orgasm hits Ellie hard and fast, her moans chocked up and high-pitched, plump lips open and brows creased — you could come just from the sight. Her weak hands grip your own, pale knuckles turning a shade lighter from the tight hold she has on you.
You, of course, talk her through it. "Good girl. My good girl. You did so well, you know that?"
After a string of curses and a couple of seconds later, Ellie comes down from her high, instinctively closing her trembling thighs around the vibrator placed between her legs and panting as she wipes the shiny sweat off her forehead.
"Holy fucking shit. That was— Fuck..." She pants, still meekly holding your thigh with one hand as she pushes the toy away from her, her aching pussy still overly sensitive for more. As much as you would love to overstimulate her, you decide to save that for another time, another lesson perhaps.
"Good? Bad? Never again?" You chuckle softly, feeling satisfied with yourself as you caress her auburn hair, weak fingers threading through her damp locks.
Ellie lets out a breathy laugh, "It was amazing, never felt anything like it. Shit."
A few moments of silence pass as you lay in each others arms, simply enjoying the presence of the other. Your sticky limbs tangled and your bodies sweaty as you match your breathing to Ellie's, cheek pressed on the top of her head.
"You know," you whisper in her ear, "you were being such a good girl, I'm up for some more..."
You were in for a long night.
#jesus im nervous#mine#my fics!#ellie williams#ellie x reader#ellie williams x reader#lesbian#tlou#tlou2#the last of us#the last of us 2#ellie williams fanfic#tlou fanfiction#ellie williams smut#tlou smut
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For science! How would the LIs react to their mc going and laying their head in their lap to rest :3
✦ The LIs react to the MC laying their head in their lap (for the first time!)
Added that last bit because I thought it was cute! Hope you don't mind :^)
✦ Amon: "Busy day, huh?" Smiles and casually tangles his fingers in the MC's hair, massaging their head until they fall asleep.
✦ Raeya: "Darling, I'm...working...Nevermind." Stops what she's doing and starts caressing the MC's shoulder, moving the hair away from their face, enjoying a quiet moment together. This is really special to her.
✦ Gael: "Oh, ah...am I comfortable? Maybe I should grab a pillow for your head, my love, or...perhaps move?" Doesn't quite know what to do with himself, where to put his hands... he'd be tense until he knows the MC is indeed comfortable because they fell asleep. Would probably burn the image of the MC like this in his mind to draw it later.
✦ Envy: "...I'm not a pillow, you know." They say so but if the MC tries to leave they will force them back into their lap. Intertwines his fingers with the MC's and keeps reading (because that's what he was doing most likely)
✦ Ara: "Aww, come here you...!" Peppers the MC's face with kisses and places a fluffy blanket on them to keep them warm. She's so giddy she's slightly kicking her feet. Falls asleep with the MC.
✦ Xal: "..............Hey." He has fantasized with this moment a bunch of times and he tries to play it cool, but he's a blushing mess who feels so damn lucky he could combust right about now. And the MC can obviously tell.
✦ Father Pride: "Hello, my love. Is everything alright?" He'd play with the MC's hair, and if they are not feeling sleepy, would seize the opportunity to ask them about their day and talk for a bit.
✦ Lázaro: "Well, hello." Smiles, kisses the MC's temple, tickles their cheeks with the tip of their nose. Resumes what they were doing.
✦ Cécile: "..." Moves his leg up and down to annoy the MC. If they don't leave, he'll allow them to stay. Occasionally glances down to see if the MC is asleep or not.
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Hey I'm absolutely obsessed with your series about the reader having Jinx's child. I would like to ask if you could write a scenario where Jinx arrives at the hideout and the reader is breastfeeding the baby and Isha is laying down with her head resting on the reader's shoulder looking intently at the small figure in the reader's lap, something like Jinx joining them and after putting Isha and the baby to sleep they finally have some alone time and they have romantic but intense sex? Thanks♥️
For more context please read the previous part „Our Family“
———
Our family part 2
G!P Jinx x Fem!Reader
Mentions of smut, G!P, fluff
It was already in the evening, Jinx was the whole day out of her hideout to do some work together with Sevika. You hated it when she was away, knowing it can be really dangerous out there especially when they had to go to Piltover and do some business there.
However, you spend the whole day taking care of Isha and your daughter Powder. playing with Isha while the little one was asleep and right now you were sitting on the couch, feeding your little one while Isha was laying with her head on your shoulder, seeming to feel tired now after a whole day of playing with you when you had the time to. Isha eyed her little sister all the time, she was happy to be a big sister and soon having someone to play with. It was exhausting but you loved your life.
Jinx finally arrived back home at her hideout, immediately smiling when she saw the three of you together, approaching you before placing a kiss on your lips and one on Isha’s temple. „Hey my loves, how was your day?“ She asked before sitting down next to you. „It was…very eventful.“ You chuckled. „How was yours? Did you have success?“ You asked in return, making her nod in response. „Yeah everything went just like planned. I am happy to be back to my family though.“ She mentioned, looking down at the smallest one here with a bright smile. „You three are the reason why I am more careful now and don’t try to bomb myself anymore when I get into serious trouble.“ Jinx said with a little laugh but you knew in fact it wasn’t funny at all.
Every time Jinx was close to lose she wanted to bomb herself and the enemy but that’s not happening anymore. She had a reason now to stay alive and it was you and the kids. A lot of things have changed in her life ever since she met you and you could say she was happy for once in her life. „I think little Powder is done now.“ You said, making the blue haired woman nod, watching you picking up the baby and pat her back gently. „It’s still weird hearing my real name but I gave it a better meaning. Powder is our daughter now and not my old self who…jinxed everything…“ You notice her voice getting softer, making you frown a little bit. „I know Jinxy. Don’t think about your past anymore, focus on the present. The Powder you were isn’t existing now. You’re Jinx and Powder is our little beautiful girl.“ You tried to light her mood up a little and you succeeded, Jinx smiled at your words. „Yes.“ She agreed with you and Isha crawled over to Jinx, hugging her tightly as a little yawn left her.
„Someone looks tired huh? Let’s get you to sleep.“ Jinx mentioned, Isha nodding while rubbing her eyes. You were busy rocking the baby to sleep while Jinx put Isha into bed. The past weeks you and Jinx made sure to make the hideoud ‚baby proof‘ putting up walls on the edges of the giant fan so none of the two girls would ever fall. Especially when Powder will start crawling one day. Better be prepared sooner than later. You even managed to create rooms in there so everyone had their little privacy. Everything was just perfect now.
Powder was finally asleep as well and you made sure to carefully and quietly put her into her baby bed, pulling the blanket over the little figure with a bright smile.
Once both kids were in bed sleeping, you and Jinx finally had their alone time. You both being in your bedroom as you got ready for bed but there was something on Jinx’s mind, you could clearly tell. „Is everything okay my love?“ You asked as you undid her braids, feeling there was something off. „I am good don’t worry. I am very happy and still I can’t figure out how I deserved this…how I deserved you, Isha and Powder. You can’t imagine how happy that makes me, having a family…“ You heard her voice crack in the end of her sentence, she was crying but this time out of happiness which made your eyes tear up as well. „You make me the happiest too.“ You said as you hugged her from behind, now nuzzling into her open, soft blue hair, inhaling her scent. You loved your girlfriend so much it was hard to describe it sometimes.
Jinx shifted, moving a little bit to face you before crashing her lips on yours, both of you kissing each other deeply and with so much love. It turned you on a little when she moved her tongue inside if your mouth, exploring every inch and playing with your tongue, you gave in with a hum, letting her dominate the kiss as you let yourself completely fall, letting her hands slip under your shirt and move up to your breasts, gently squeezing them which made you moan softly. „Jinx…“ You hum softly, breaking the kiss. She looked at you with a lustful gaze, making you blush. „We don’t need our clothes now do we?“ You said with a chuckle and in no time both of you got rid if your clothes, Jinx pushing you down on the bed as she hovers over you, her lips finding your neck, leaving hickeys and little bites on your sensitive skin, making you gasp and moan as you ran your hand into her hair. „Fuck…you know how to make me weak do you?…“ You whispered close to her ear, sending shivers down her spine as she then pulled back to look into your eyes. „Of course I know what my baby likes…“ She said with a smirk before continuing her work down your chest, starting to play with your breasts which obviously got bigger after having your child, giving her more space to leave hickeys and once she started flicking her tongue over your sensitive nipple, you let out another soft moan.
„I love you…“ You mumble under your breath, chuckling a little bit when her sweet soft kisses up your neck tickled you until she reached for your lips again. „I love you too.“ Jinx said in between soft little pecks on your lips. Your hands move down along her sides, enjoying to feel her body. Your hand reached down to her shaft, gently moving your hand up and down, wanting to make her feel good too. She moaned softly as well now as she felt the pleasure from your hand rubbing her shaft, her hips automatically jerking forward. „Fuck…“ She cursed under her breath. „P-Please rub it against me…“ You begged and of course Jinx won’t deny you. Your hands move back to wrap around her neck as she teased you with the tip first and then rub it between your wet folds, both of you humming softly at the good feeling. „Yes…good girl let me get it nice and wet for you before I fuck you.“
Her words made you feel even more turned on, moaning once she finally moved inside, thrusting her hips back and forth inside of you, making you moan more loudly. Jinx leaning down to shut you up with a kiss. „Shh…baby not so loud you will wake up the kids.“ She mumbled against your lips with a chuckle. You bit down on your lower lip, trying to keep quiet as she fucked you, her hands reaching for yours intertwining your fingers as she wanted to hold you, your legs wrapping around her waist. Both of you had intense eye contact, looking at each other with so much love and passion as soft moans left both of your lips, your pussy clenching around her cock after a while, making her feel you were about to cum soon. „Is my baby close huh? Good. Cum for me my love.“ She cooed before letting go of your hands, sitting up as she grabbed your hips before pounding inside of you in a fast pace, making you moan out, immediately biting down on your lower lip hard as you noticed you got a little too loud again, shutting yourself up. The view of Jinx pounding into you with her beautiful long blue hair hanging down her chest and a few strands of hair along her face, it was just so sexy it drove you over the edge, making you reach your orgasm as your cunt pulsed around her, legs shaking.
Jinx immediately leaned down again after you ride out your orgasm, kissing you deeply and passionately. „Shh…it’s okay. You did so well..“ She whispered against your lips, you slowly calming down from your high, knowing you still had to get her off. „Hnn…we are not done yet, let me make you cum.“
She pulled out of you, you getting on your knees as you positioned yourself so you were ready to suck her off. Your tongue gently swirling around her tip before taking her cock into your mouth, making her moan and grab your hair as you kept moving, taking her cock deep down your throat as you kept yourself steady by holding her hips. „O-Oh fuck…yes just like that baby…I am so close fuck…“ She said in between her moaning, instinctively moving her hips, accidentally making you choke on her as she finally came as well, releasing her cum inside your mouth. Of course you made sure to swallow it all, smirking once you pulled away and looked up at her as you were panting softly.
„God…I love you so much.“ Jinx said before cupping your cheeks and kissing you deeply.
You both were so in love it was hard to describe into words but your actions already showed enough. Soon you and Jinx made yourself comfortable as you fell asleep in each others arms, enjoying the warmth of each other’s bodies.
———
Should I make more parts of this Series? Do you like it? 👀
#fanfiction#x reader#female reader#x fem!reader#short imagine#lgbtq#arcane#arcane fanfic#jinx#jinx x fem!reader#jinx fanfic#jinx smut#jinx arcane#jinx x reader#arcane smut#smut scenarios#smut#arcane imagine#g!p
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Reader adopts a big fluffy dog that's very opinionated, when and where walks happen is entirely the dogs decision. It's a good dog, perfectly pleasant but thick headed as a bull. Demands pets with authority a dog has no business having.
They love that mutt, got it from a shelter and doesn't have the heart to take charge when being a bit bossy is the only 'misbehavior' the dog ever shows, until it's walkie time in the middle of the night, new moon and cloudy, pitch black. Resigned you get the harness, leash and treat bag and bundle up. In a hurry to get the head of the house their wish you forget any kind of light, left your phone on your bedside table when you heard the grumbles of demands.
It seems to be a night for adventure, leash pulled taught in a direction you've never even walked by daylight and nose glued to the floor. The gates to a park at least let you know where you're going, not that you recognize the name, its far out of your usual range especially in the middle of the night. You cope by clinging to the 'scary dog privilege' even though the mutt never showed an ounce of aggression towards anything.
Looking around to not get caught off guard by a malicious stranger you miss your dog perking up, fixating a direction and taking off, the "STOP" leaves your mouth the second your body is jostled but its no use. You're dragged across the park, thankfully mostly grass but it still hurts. Digging your feet in is no use, hopelessly outmatched by the dog the shelter told you was perfectly sized for you. "Manageable my ass you stupid dog stop running!", you scream no care for time of day when you come to an abrupt halt, sliding a little on the muddy ground until someone grabs the leash and is immediately crowded by the traitor. All wags and tip taps, it'd be adorable if you weren't on your ass god knows where thanks to him.
"Bad dog thief if you can't even train one.", you can't place the tone, or read the strangers face through his balaclava. Thief? You would never steal someones beloved pet. "Fuck you, I'm no thief. He's from a shelter, if I wanted a free dog I'd get a stray." The amount of awkward eye contact that followed made your skin crawl, you shivered in discomfort from your mud caked clothes to the scary stranger starring you down. Was he not going to react at all? Your attitude had always been your biggest flaw. Why couldn't the floor just open up and swallow you whole? You were going to die for mouthing off for sure, or worse. "C'mon boy, home.", he was looking at you but definitely talking to the dog, voice even as he yankes you up by the leash and herds you after the dog happily trotting the way it came. Oh no, your dog was going to YOUR home, backtracking through the park, mindful of the grooves he, or rather you, left. Caring about tripping you now, between treating you like a crash dummy and a lamb to the slaughter.
The streetlights flickered back on one by one, the silent man at your back cast eerie shadows over you every time you passed one. You could barely breath, fear clogged your throat, choking you. Running was out of the question, he would catch you, no doubt in your mind. You didn't dare think about what your- well, his dog really would do. He might even be trained to bite, maul you to bits for the crime of displeasing his master. Tears threatened to spill over your lashes at the thought, you blinked them away as hard as you could, whatever he thought of you now wouldn't be improved by turning into a sobbing mess. No crying about whatever this was, you wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing you dissolve, if he wanted to he would crush you either way.
Your front door looked like a guillotine, the slanted window that once charmed you now made your stomach turn. You fumbled with the keys, hands shaking in helplessness. When they slipped your grasp, a gloved hand reaches out from behind you and catches them, palm up, the keys to your doom cradled in the hand of death. Slowly, you lifted your hand to take the keys back. The thought to stab him with them crossed your mind, but you had no follow-up. You stretched your fingers towards the house key. The next moment, you were crowded against the door and heard the keys jingle. The hinges protest when the door swung open. Unsteady legs carry you inside, mechanically taking off the harness and hanging the gear up in the dog corner.
The door clicks shut, and you refuse to acknowledge it in any way. Frozen in place, no useful thoughts in your head, your mind was screaming to do something anything at all. Time trickled by you in slow motion, for the first time you heard footsteps that weren't yours on your living room floor, the clicky noise of dog paws soon followed. Sounds from the kitchen startle you back into thought. That's where your knives are. He could take the damn fridge for all you cared right now, but you were not getting stabbed by knives you had picked out and paid for without a fight.
The sound of water hitting something metal had you confused, that weirdo did not follow you home to fill his dogs water bowl, that would be insane, and yet a few seconds later the water is being gobbled up loudly.
Something fills with water again, you're still looking at the slow swinging leash on the hook.
The stove beeps, the glasstop clinks quietly, something was placed on it.
Nails on the floor tell you the dog is scampering towards you, probably dripping water all the way. Soft fur brushes your fingers accompanied by the wet nose and tongue licking your hand. "You broken, pet?", leaning against the wall as nonchalant as the question he asked. The nickname had you glancing at the dog for a second before it clicked - this fucking guy dragged you around on a leash and called you pet like it was a normal thing to do.
You turned to give him a piece of your mind, freezing again when you saw him in the light. He'd been scary outside, dressed entirely in dark clothes and towering over you like a bad omen. In the light he looked downright terrifying, the skull print balaclava blending with his eye black, equally dark eyes looking at you with a bored expression, you had to guess. Good thing you hadn't tried anything, he looked perfectly able and willing to really hurt you. Not like how your bruised body ached from being dragged, real agony that would rip through you and fray every nerve you had. You were once again starring at each other, him waiting for a reply and you desperately trying to keep it together, whether you'd laugh or cry or attack him you didn't dare guess but something was boiling over.
The kettle whistles - you burst into a fit of nervous giggles.
#simon ghost riley#simon x reader#ghost cod#simon ghost x reader#ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#not proofread#i dont know what this is#my brain went 'what if new dog drags you into simons lap' and bolted#started making it blacked out bon appetit#not anything really this is word vomit innit#I like the idea a lot - also scaredy cat reader anyone?#like these dudes SCARYYYY#sentientthing types#where this is going idk either reader is right and this gets DARK or simon is so terrible at people he could give me a run for my money#good course either way to me#sound off if you have an opinion its the first 'real' piece I'm publishing happy to hear others thoughs#ok be free little brain worm 🪱
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A Single Daffodil || 7
Summary: Getting arranged to be married to your long-time crush wasn't exactly the fairy tale romance you were hoping for. Nor is the dynamic of the marriage, with your husband treating you like you don't exist. But you're going to make this work, whether he cares about you or not. And he definitely doesn't...right?
Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader
Rating: 18+ minors DNI
Word Count: 6.2K
Genre: angst, romance, unrequited love, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage au, businessman yoongi
Warnings: maybe some angst?? not really, it's pretty fluffy
Author's Note: hello hello!! i hope you're all well! sorry (again) for taking so long to get this out, but i think i'm as happy as i can be with this chapter. it's not perfect and i'm worried it'll be boring, but i like it, i think! well, i had fun writing it at least, and i hope you have fun reading it! it isn't super closely proofread so i'm sorry for any errors, i just wanted to get this posted today!!
TAGLIST CLOSED [follow asingledaffodil tag for all notifications]
@yoongisducky @kam9404 @sumzysworld @tarahardcore @viankiss @babystarcandyrecs @ktownshizzle @futuristicenemychaos @igot7fairlyoddparents @baechugff @pb89nv @peachytokki @ratherbfangirling @themwordsblog @daisies-and-dandelionpuffs @kimmalik @pastelpeachess @captainchrisstan @khaimahfe @kooklovee @whoa-jo @familiarlikemymirror3 @blueberriesm @llallaaa @purpleheartsandarock1 @lillmeowmeowsblog @this-most-assuredly-counts @kayleefriedchicken @ur-grandmum @sylviamuela @notarshia @minghaosimp @ilikekpop-c @maynina @rinkud @jesshujk @kimsaerom @suker4angst @mar-627 @maynina @pitchblack0309 @wobblewobble822 @praetae @yoongibaybee @weareatthebadlands
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The alarm blaring in your ear felt foreign and your eyes were bleary as you blinked awake, vision slowly coming into focus. Momentarily, you forgot why you’d set your alarm, having gotten too used to sleeping in the past two weeks, but your senses soon came back to you. It was your first day back to the office after your extended vacation in place of a honeymoon.
The idea of it made you laugh slightly, like there was ever a honeymoon in the cards for you, but you soon silenced when you remembered the past weekend. Yoongi and you had gone on a semi-date, which meant that you would probably end up dating, which would lead to marriage (even though you were already married), and then a real honeymoon? Your head spun, it was too early to be overthinking like this.
You finally silenced your alarm, dragging yourself out of your warm duvet and shuffling toward your bathroom. Sleepily completing your morning routine, you got dressed for work and made your way downstairs. You usually neglected breakfast in favor of a small snack before lunch at the office and you smiled at the kitchen counter, seeing a small container of riceballs that Mrs. Lim had likely prepared for you. You could hear her puttering around in the far room, seemingly doing laundry.
You grabbed the container, slipping it into your tote bag, and began walking to the door, before startling at Yoongi’s voice coming from the top of the stairs.
“Y/N, wait a second,” he called, making his way down the stairs, “Want to go to work together?”
Your eyebrows raised at the suggestion, not even realizing he was still at home. Home? You supposed it was your home now. You weren’t sure when you had started to refer to it that way.
“Sure, but I usually take the bus,” you responded, watching him gather his things and approach you at the door.
“Oh,” Yoongi responded, slightly breathless, “That’s fine. I can take it with you.”
You thought for a moment, the Min Industries building was a block or so down from your own office, so you figured it should work out.
“Okay, then I’m ready whenever you are,” you mentioned. Yoongi nodded, slipping on his shoes, “Let’s go.”
The two of you made your way to the bus stop in a comfortable silence, enjoying the bustling scene of a morning in Seoul. When you both reached the bus stop, Yoongi spoke up, “Do you have any specific plans this week?”
You closed your eyes, racking your brain, “No, not really. But I’ll probably working a lot of overtime since I missed two weeks.”
“Oh,” Yoongi responded, “That’s unfortunate.”
You smiled, turning to face him, “I’ll find some time for us to hang out, promise.” You brushed a stray hair off his forehead, making his eyes widen and his head quickly turn away.
You giggled softly, apparently you still had it. It was kind of fun to flirt with him.
The bus soon arrived and you entered, scanning your card and making your way down the aisle before hearing the bus driver’s stern voice ring out.
“Sir, your transportation card?”
You turned to find Yoongi with a confused look on his face, seemingly at a loss at what the bus driver meant. The scene made you shake your head and smile, reaching over to scan your pass once again and bowing an apology to the bus driver. You grabbed Yoongi’s wrist, tugging him to one of the empty pairs of seats and gently guided him into the far one by the window.
“Sorry,” he said sheepishly, “I’ve never actually taken the bus before.” He scratched the back of his head, you could see his ears tinging red. You squeezed his wrist before letting go, “It’s alright, I’d figured as much. It’s kind of nice to have company on the morning commute.”
Yoongi sent a gummy smile your way making you exhale harshly, it felt like one of the first real smiles you’d seen of him and it was breathtaking. His hard edges and steely eyes softened, it was a sight you wanted to imprint on your mind. You distracted yourself by opening up your phone and scrolling through some recent texts, feeling Yoongi’s presence boring into your own.
Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Yoongi take one last glance at you before grasping your hand in his own and entangling your fingers. It caused you to look up at him but he was already turned, facing the window, fingers still tightly gripping your hand.
You felt the heat spread on your face but you settled into it anyway, enjoying the feeling of Yoongi’s palm against your own. The rest of the ride to your stop was largely silent, with you focused on the warmth emanating from Yoongi’s hand. You felt like a teenager with a crush. You were just holding hands! What was the big deal? Yet, it still felt like one.
The scenery caught your attention when a cafe you frequented flew by, signaling that your stop was next. Yoongi seemed caught in the view from the window so you drew his attention by tugging gently on his hand, still flush against yours. He looked over at you questioningly before you started rising out of your seat. The bus came to a slow stop and you gently pulled him to the door, scanning your card twice quickly and exiting with Yoongi close behind.
As the two of you stood on the sidewalk, you were unsure of where to go from here. Your office would be in the opposite direction from his, so it seemed that this was where you split ways. Yoongi didn’t seem to realize this as he began walking to his office, stopping when he felt the resistance from your hand, as you stood in place.
He turned, ears tinged pink, “Oh, right, OK is that way. I guess this is goodbye.”
You smiled, untangling your fingers from his, “See you at home, Yoongi.”
His mouth parted before breaking into a small smile, “See you.”
You turned quickly, feeling your cheeks warm, and started walking quickly to your building. All you did was ride the bus with him, yet it felt exhilarating, what was happening to you? You were supposed to be just friends right now, you couldn’t afford to fall this quickly.
Well, you supposed that nothing was really stopping you but yourself, but you still had your principle! You had to hold steadfast, you were the one who’d asked to start as friends first after all.
Feeling your phone buzz in your hands, you glanced down to catch Namjoon’s name in your notifications. You opened his message while navigating through the crowds on the sidewalk, fantasizing about the iced tea in the cafe in the lobby of your building.
From: Kim Namjoon
Good morning, Y/N-ssi! I managed to get tickets to that art gallery we were talking about, I stayed up almost all night, but it was worth it! I’ll send you the details when I’m more coherent, have a good day at work!
You smiled down at your phone, sending off a quick confirmation and well wishes for his sleep schedule. As you pushed open the doors to your office building, the cafe stationed off to the right felt like a beacon in the bustling morning office rush. The barista, Junmi, greeted you warmly as you approached the register, “Hi, unnie! It’s been a while since I’ve seen you, were you on vacation?”
You shot her a conspiratorial wink, “Something like that.” She rung up your order, knowing it by heart by now, and held out her hand for your card. You handed it over while your eyes raked over the bakery display next to the counter, but you knew you already had the riceballs Mrs. Lim provided. No way you can justify another purchase, even if it was for the softest looking croissant in the world.
“Unnie,” Junmi exclaimed, startling you from your bread infused daze, “Your ring! Did you get married?”
“Oh,” you chuckled awkwardly, “Yeah, I did.”
“Wow, congratulations! Here, have a croissant, on the house. That’s so exciting! You’ll have to show me pictures sometime,” she smiled, handing you back your card before turning away to prepare your drink.
As you walked past security gate toward the gate, awkwardly scanning your badge while balancing your breakfast, you took your first bite of the warm and flaky croissant. It seems like this marriage had more perks that you’d initially given it credit for.
Sitting down at your desk was a relief after navigating your curious and energetic team. You’d fielded questions about your marriage as much as you could, but you still ended up showing them a picture of Yoongi that Joohee had sent you from the wedding. Your team had commented on how handsome he looked and how happy they were for you, and from there, the energy calmed down some, with some members returning to their seats.
The excitement had left you feeling conflicted, staring down at the picture of Yoongi that Joohee had sent. He looked handsome, definitely, his eyes were dark and piercing and his slightly tanned skin looked soft and smooth. You hadn’t realized how pinched together his eyebrows had been during the ceremony, or how bitten his lips looked. You swiped to the next picture in your messages with Joohee, seeing yourself and Yoongi during the reception. You both looked tired and miserable, making you frown at your phone. You kind of wished that you had a nice picture of you and Yoongi to show other people. Something to show when people like Junmi asked, one that made you look like a happy couple. You knew that Yeonsik had a stupidly cute picture of himself and his boyfriend as his phone’s lockscreen, and it made your stomach clench with envy.
Maybe you should bring it up to Yoongi?
No, it was much too soon, you shook your head, dismissing the thought.
Turning off your phone, you logged into your computer, seeing the number of unread emails rapidly increasing. You sighed, slipping on your headphones and starting some jazz so you could focus.
Combing through the mountain of emails was tiring, but one caught your attention, even as your eyes glazed over.
From: [email protected]
RE: Influencer Campaign MIRA’S AWAKENING
Hello Team Leader Seo,
We have decided to pursue Jeon Jeongguk (user/sns:goldenboy97) as one of the main influencers for MIRA’S AWAKENING’s campaign. We have been communicating with him about ideas for the campaign and decided upon the following:
Early access - stream upon release day
PR merchandise - we are confirming designs with Graphics 2
Vlog/tour of OK Gaming on August 25 - this will include a tour of Planning Team 1 office space. Please see attached for video appearance consent form for your team and have it submitted to me by the end of the week.
We will follow up with more information as we approach the filming date.
Thanks,
Team Leader Lim
You had to read the email twice before you fully understood the contents. Shaking your head with a smile, you forwarded the email to your team and grabbed your phone to text Jeongguk.
To: Jeon Jeongguk
Are you invading my office for your vlog channel?
The reply came almost instantly.
From: Jeon Jeongguk
morning, noona!
you finally got the news, huh?
i’m so excited, i can’t wait to see you working!
we should get lunch or dinner together that day!!
any preferences?
don’t tell hyung though
can i get your opinion on what i should wear, i don’t really go to offices often lol
You set your phone down as the buzzing continued, trying to contain your laughter. The kid was so exciteable, but his energy was contagious. You decided to respond to him later as you heard the quiet ding of more emails coming in. A sigh escaped you, you had promised Yoongi to find time to do something with him, but taking off two weeks so close to the launch date of your project and at the tail end of beta testing had taken its toll. It was clear that you’d be working overtime for the next few weeks.
Leaning your elbows against the desk and taking your head into your hands, you rubbed circles into the sides of your head. Thinking about everything you had to do was leading to a migraine and a quick look at the clock revealed that only about an hour had passed since you’d gotten to work. You felt your body sag in defeat, hearing the pings of more emails coming in.
Pressing your head against the cool feeling of your desk, you tried to distract your mind from the overwhelming mountain of work you had waiting for you. Naturally, your mind drifted toward the past weekend with Yoongi. You could still feel the exhaustion of the emotional rollercoaster weighing on your bones, but the uncertainty of what the future would look like with him felt like prinpicks against your fingers. This weekend had changed a lot for you, changes that you weren’t sure how to deal with.
Yoongi’s new attitude was also confusing, even though you fully knew his intentions now. The shift from trying to dismiss any ambiguous actions from him and steel yourself against any romantic feelings of your own to full transparency of his feelings toward you and your obligation to externally reciprocate was difficult to adjust to. You had been playing it by ear so far, going for a risky flirt whenever you felt cheeky, but it still felt unnatural.
It was hard to put it into words, but it felt like you were uncomfortable around Yoongi. Maybe you were still upset with him for what transpired with Jimin, after all, it was not too long ago, only a couple days really. Or maybe it was for what he said at the gala, the way he had dismissed you still irked, making you bite the inside of your cheek. Or perhaps when he’d been an hour late to your meeting before you’d gotten married, showing up with mussed hair, hickeys, and the heavy scent of a woman’s perfume.
You blew a short and aggressive breath out of your mouth, Yoongi had really been an ass. More than feeling upset with him, though, you felt more upset with yourself for caving so quickly. You supposed it wasn’t necessarily caving since you weren’t starting out as friends through your own insistence, but you couldn’t lie to yourself. Your feelings for Yoongi were annoyingly persistent and only getting stronger with his newfound feelings and confidence in them.
Why couldn’t you be stronger?
It felt a bit pathetic. You’d thought that you were doing so well in closing yourself off from him, shielding your heart from, not only from his attractive looks and seductive gaze, but from his biting remarks and harsh glares. As it turns out, not only did you still end up feeling hurt, but you only deeper for him despite your best efforts. Were you really even preventing anything that whole time? You bit your lip, squinting to make out emails through your blurry vision.
Were you in the palm of his hands since the beginning?
Did you ever stand a chance?
Was this relationship more unbalanced than you previously thought?
Your eyes closed in defeat, feeling your headache envelop the rest of your brain. You wished that you could level the playing field somehow.
The harsh blue undertoned light from your computer was aggravating your headache even more. To give your eyes a break, you took a look around your office space, seeing your teammates in similar condition to you.
The past couple weeks had been grueling, finalizing the post beta testing debugs, a last minute story adjustment, a heavy debate on the use of a mechanic your team was pushing to keep after some confusion in beta testing, and wrangling the graphics team to confirm and pack the shipment of merchandise had taken a heavy toll on your team’s morale and energy. This was always the worse part of development and production.
You’d barely seen your home since your return to work, spending over twelve hours at the office, catching the last bus home, scarfing down a mediocre, store bought kimbap, and crashing on your bed or the couch, whichever one you made it to in time.
You weren’t going to lie, you were a bit frustrated that you’d barely been able to spend any time with Yoongi in the past two weeks, but a part of you was relieved. Your emotional state still hadn’t fully recovered and you were relishing the opportunity to delay the inevitable as long as you could. Even so, waking up on the couch with a soft blanket thrown on you and your hair brushed away from your face made your heart ache. To his credit, he seemed to be an expert in tugging on your heart.
He was understanding, at the least. Even though you barely saw him, any time you did, he wore an empathetic expression and quietly handed you a can of your favorite fruit juice from the fridge with a small smile. Yoongi hadn’t had any complaints of your constant late nights and occupied weekends, which, in your defense, had been unavoidable and continual.
Today was no different, despite it being a Friday, your team was still working late into the night. A yawn off to your right, courtesy of Song Ha, drew you out of your drowsy trance. You blinked a few times, feeling the world coming back into focus, and glanced at the time. It was approaching nine and you could feel that nothing else productive was going to happen today. Wiping your sweaty palms on your leggings, you stood, “Okay, everyone. Let’s go home for today, we’ve done all we can. I want you all to enjoy your weekend this time, so don’t check any emails. If it’s really important, I’ll call you. Go get some rest and be ready to kick ass on Monday.”
Your team stared up at you gratefully, seemingly rejuvenated. The packing up was quick and efficient, everyone more than ready to get out of the stuffy and dreary office. As you were packing up your own belongings, your phone buzzed with a message.
From: Kim Namjoon
Hi! I hope you’re doing well. I know your game is coming out soon so you must be busy, hopefully you’re getting enough rest!
Just a question about next Friday, would you like to head over to the gallery together? I can pick you up. Let me know when you can!
Oh, that’s right, the gallery that you were supposed to go to with Namjoon was coming up in a week. You had forgotten in the chaos of work, but you resigned to text him back later. Getting home was your top priority. Though, now that you were thinking about you, you had a nagging feeling that you’d forgotten something else.
You bent down in front of your desk to log out of your computer, catching a flagged email a bit further down in your inbox, referencing the filming day that was involving your team. Your fingers snapped automatically, that’s what it was! You’d totally forgotten about Jeongguk coming to film the behind the scenes and doing a segment with your team. Rapping your desk to catch your team’s attention, you quickly reminded them.
“Just a reminder, this upcoming Tuesday, we have the filming team coming in here with Jeon Jeongguk. I think all of you signed the consent form, so you can all come to work as normal, but just be prepared that they’ll be there. You’ll have a couple cameras around and they may pull you aside for some questions, but that should be about it. Have a good weekend, guys.”
A chorus of goodbyes and well wishes rang out from your team, followed by idle chatter as they made their way to the elevator. You sat back for a minute, deciding whether you should text Yoongi to say you were coming home early or not. Was this early? It was almost nine, but it was relatively early to when you had been coming home.
Whatever, you’d just go home. No point in texting when you’d be there in about twenty minutes anyway, what would texting change?
You hauled yourself to the bus stop, feeling the heaviness of the day weigh down your bones. You’d given your team the weekend off, but the same couldn’t be said for you. You knew plenty of managers in the corporate world who could leisurely take time off work and the productiveness of their team wouldn’t change, but your team was, unfortunately, not the same. Your weekend would consist of monitoring your email for anything urgent coming in and making sure other teams were on track for the upcoming release, but at least you’d get a bit of a break. It was a bit like being on call, but you didn’t want to think about it that way, it’d make the unpaid overtime a bit too real.
The sound of the bus approaching made you jolt to attention, stopping for a moment to close your eyes and stop your head from spinning. You had forgotten to pick up dinner, but you’d make do. There must be something in the fridge, and if there wasn’t, you’d make for some emergency fried chicken delivery.
The bus ride home was peaceful, to your extreme delight. Late Friday night bus rides ran the risks of drunk and rowdy businessmen, energetic and loud college students, and excitable high schoolers. Thankfully, the bus was quiet and serene, soon stopping near your apartment. The trek up to the building felt more taxing than usual, dragging your feet along the pavement until you reached the elevator. The cool feeling of the elevator walls against your forehead felt refreshing, at least, but you internally groaned when the doors slid open and you had to move your feet once again.
The click of the door to the apartment unlocking felt like an angel’s voice, and you entered the apartment only to be met with five faces staring back at you. Your eyes immediately found Yoongi’s, staring at you, a bit surprised, but he sent you a smile. You returned it weakly before trailing your eyes over everyone else, finding Namjoon and Seokjin on the couch and Jeongguk and Taehyung seated on the floor around the coffee table, seemingly playing some low stakes poker.
How could you forget that Yoongi has his friends over on Friday nights? The gaps in your memory were starting to grow concerning.
You gave a half wave before awkwardly closing the door behind you. What did you even look like right now? Your team had given up on any sort of professional appearance once the overtime had started and your team routinely showed up in sweatshirts, sweatpants, leggings, or pajamas at this point. If someone was wearing the same clothes as the previous day, everyone else turned a blind eye. You were sure that your hair was a ratty mess atop your head and your overly loose sweatshirt was drowning you in fabric, likely making you look like a kid playing dress up. Your concerns over your appearance dissipated when you felt a body slam against yours in a hug, arms enveloping your waist.
“Noona! Did you get back from the office just now? You’re working too late,” Jeongguk exclaimed, squeezing you before releasing his hold.
You laughed slightly, “Yeah, things are busy since the game’s coming out in about a month, and since you get early access, we have to work even harder.”
Your joke made Jeongguk frown slightly, “Maybe I’ll catch some labor law violations in the vlog and you can win big in a lawsuit.”
You chuckled, patting his shoulder, “I’ll file after I get my new year bonus.”
You began taking off your shoes, having to face the rest of the group, who all gave you warm smiles, Taehyung and Namjoon both sending you a friendly wave. Seokjin sent a stern glare in your direction, facing his vitriol on the oversized young man behind you, “Yah, Jeongguk, leave her alone, she only just got back. What vlog are you talking about anyway?”
You opened your mouth to answer, but Jeongguk beat you to it, slinging his arms around you, a bit like a sloth hanging onto a tree, you noted.
“I get to hang out with noona all day on Tuesday since I’m filming a behind the scenes vlog for my second channel,” he responded, letting you go when Taehyung beckoned him over with the promise of a dangling chicken drumstick.
Right, food. The chicken on the coffee table looked far too appetizing, but it felt rude of you to intrude so you tried to casually look away from it.
“I didn’t know about that,” came Yoongi’s voice for the first time since you’d stepped into the apartment. It drew your gaze immediately, seeing a small frown on his face and furrowed eyebrows. Was he upset that you hadn’t told him? You suppose Jeongguk was his friend first.
“Ah, yeah, I’ve been so busy with work, I haven’t really gotten the chance to talk to you too much,” you said, trying to convey your guilt.
Yoongi shook his head, “Not your fault, you’d think that this brat,” he flicked Jeongguk’s forehead, who protested through a mouth full of chicken, “Would tell me that he was spending the day with my wife at work.”
Your chest bloomed at his choice of words, you’d rarely heard him refer to you as his wife, only at the reception of your wedding when talking to guests. Somehow, him using it now in such an intimate setting made your marriage feel all the more real.
“Speaking of,” Seokjin interjected, “Isn’t your one month anniversary coming up? Are you guys doing anything fun?”
You and Yoongi both looked at each other, a bit at a loss for words. You hadn’t even thought about that, had it really already been almost a month? Somehow, it felt simultaneously shorter and much, much longer than that. You felt like you’d already spent a lifetime with Yoongi, but it’d barely been four weeks.
“I believe that’s on the same day as the gallery,” Namjoon said casually, snatching a small piece of chicken from Jeongguk’s clutches.
“Gallery,” Yoongi questioned.
“Oh, Namjoon and I are going to a gallery for an artist he introduced me to, we’d talked about when we met at that gallery a few weeks back,” you explained, trying to focus on the conversation and not how good the chicken looked.
Yoongi seemed to be pondering his response when Namjoon caught your gaze on the food.
“Have you eaten yet, Y/N,” he questioned.
You shook your head softly, a bit embarrassed that you were found out so quickly.
“Join us,” Seokjin said, snatching the rest of the box from Jeongguk who pouted sadly, “You can have the rest of what’s in here and we can order more too.”
“No, you guys should eat that, it’s yours,” you insisted, feeling slightly childish with Seokjin’s suggestion.
“Jeonggukie ate most of it anyway, so we were going to need more,” Seokjin said, waving away your concerns, “We really need to start ordering multiple portions for him so he doesn’t eat all of it.”
You laughed and started toward the couch to join them, but took a quick glance at Yoongi’s expression to see if he was okay with it. The scene felt oddly familiar to you, reminding you of the last time you were invited to sit with them and you felt compelled to refuse.
Yoongi’s face looked unreadable, just like then too, but he seemed to be more deep in thought this time. He caught your gaze and smiled, though, nodding for you to join them. You gave a sheepish smile in response, making your way to the couch and sitting next to Namjoon, who had moved closer to the middle to make room for you.
“Thanks, it’s been a long day,” you said, leaning into the soft cushions of the couch. You were going to have to be careful not to fall asleep, you were so used to collapsing onto this same couch after work.
The food quickly arrived and the men continued to engage in conversation, making sure to include you, but you felt yourself getting drowsy. It seemed you had reached your limit when you felt your head bump into Namjoon’s shoulder in a sleep induced sway. You lifted yourself upright, blinking sleepily up at him, making out his soft smile, “Sorry, Namjoon-ah. I’m a bit tired.” You could hear yourself slurring your words.
“No worries, Y/N, maybe we should get you to bed,” he responded, steading you again with a firm hand on your shoulder.
If you had felt like a child earlier, you most certainly felt more like one now.
You felt Namjoon’s hands grasp your shoulders, gently lifting you to a standing position before a new pair of hands took over.
“I’ll take her upstairs, Joon, can you make sure Seokjin doesn’t spill anything while I’m gone,” you heard Yoongi’s voice ask. Your eyes were barely open and your mind felt quite cloudy in your drowsy haze. Looking up at Yoongi, you caught his pensive expression before he looked down at you, sending you a small smile. He gently squeezed your shoulders and slowly led you up the stairs and to your room, you could distantly hear Jeongguk calling out a goodnight.
You were barely conscious for the walk to your bedroom, feeling yourself lean against Yoongi for support. He patiently guided you, opening the door to your room and laying you down on your bed. Why did this feel familiar too?
Yoongi’s fingers brushed a few stray pieces of hair out of your face, you could feel the rough pads of his fingertips against your forehead. Almost asleep now, you barely registered yourself leaning into his touch as he brought his fingers around your face to cup your cheek.
“Will you be okay sleeping in those clothes? Any makeup you have to wipe off,” he whispered, rubbing his thumb against your cheek.
“No,” you mumbled, “I’m fine. Wanna sleep now. Goodnight, Yoongi-ah.”
You felt his thumb freeze its motions before he whispered back, “Goodnight, Y/N-ie. Sleep well.”
You were already asleep by the time he closed your bedroom door.
Yoongi felt conflicted over his newly realized feelings for you. In a way, it was freeing, being able to act affectionately with you without any ambiguity or restriction. Well, there were still some restrictions and maybe some ambiguity too. You were starting as friends, and Yoongi did think that was a good idea, he really did, but he would be lying if he said he wasn’t dying to go further with you.
His hands constantly itched to take yours and his eyes were always drawn to your soft and gentle smile. You had been smiling a bit more since that fateful weekend, and Yoongi was enjoying every second of it.
Though, there weren’t really that many seconds of it to enjoy, considering your hectic schedule since your date. You’d been cooped up at your office pretty much every evening, a feeling Yoongi was familiar with, so he couldn’t fault you. Every time he managed to catch a rare glimpse of you in the house, you were either sleeping on the couch, or tiredly eating at the table. Despite your haggard appearance and exhausted demeanor, you’d always managed to smile a greeting at him and apologize for being so busy.
Yoongi couldn’t find it in himself to be upset at your absence. Even though he was aching to be close to you and spend more with you, he knew your work was important and busy right now. Yoongi had to be patient, something he was not excited for. Your skin always looked too inviting, your lips too soft, and your eyes too alluring. He constantly had to reign in his wandering thoughts about you, even having to do a bit of overtime himself to make up for his distracted nature the past few weeks.
Despite his growing attraction to you, whenever he laid eyes on your messy appearance with considerable eyebags adorning your sweet face, your lips forming a tired pout, in the multiple times he’d caught you sleeping on the couch when he went downstairs to check if you’d returned, his thoughts dissipated. You were clearly working yourself to the bone and Yoongi knew he couldn’t stop you, he’d been in your position multiple times. Sometimes, there was no other way around it. So he did what he could, a blanket covering your sleeping form, a small snack or candy slipped into your bag, or an extra serving of dinner waiting for you in the microwave, this was how Yoongi knew to show his love.
Love? Was it?
No, he didn’t think so. At least not yet. It was too early on to tell if he loved you, but he could feel himself starting down that path. He only wished that he could be in an actual relationship with you, though he knew why he couldn’t. His friends knew about the arrangement, he’d confided in Seokjin and Namjoon, but he hadn’t revealed his growing feelings for you, only that you’d decided to become friends.
Maybe that had been a mistake, considering how close they seemed to be getting to you. Yoongi recalled how his friends had jumped at your presence when you’d entered the apartment. As he climbed into bed, he remembered how Jeongguk had stood excitedly at your arrival and immediately crushed you in an intimate hug. Had Yoongi hugged you before? He couldn’t remember, but it was all he could think about now. Jeongguk had mentioned that he’d be spending the day with you at work on Tuesday, Yoongi had never seen you in your office either. Suddenly, that single walk to work together all those days ago felt minimal compared to what Jeongguk was going to get to experience.
You seemed to have grown close with Namjoon as well, Yoongi thought, remembering the way that Namjoon had smiled invitingly at you and the way you’d sat next him, bumping your head against his shoulder in your attempt to sleep. What was that? Yoongi felt restless, maybe he should’ve clarified his feelings to his friends so they’d know you were off limits.
Except, you weren’t. Yoongi knew that. He had no claim over you, he wasn’t your boyfriend, only your designated husband. Yoongi’s mind wandered back to the interactions between you and Namjoon, racing to analyze every interaction, despite his acceptance that it wasn’t his place.
You seemed so comfortable with Namjoon, you’d even called his name so affectionately. Well, you’d said Yoongi’s name affectionately too, he gloated internally. That had been a sweet moment that he was going to treasure, you had been so placid and vulnerable, a side to you he hadn’t seen before. It had been hard to contain himself since he’d brought you to your room, feeling you lean against him and into his hand, he’d wanted to kiss you.
But he knew better, he had to wait. Yoongi tried not to think about what would happen if you decided you only wanted to be friends with him and nothing more. He had already fallen so deeply for you. It was unexpected for him to fall so quickly and so hard, surprising even himself. You’d managed to wedge your way into his heart, making him uncomfortable, only to set up shop there and grow his fondness toward you.
Yoongi’s mind drifted back to the earlier conversation, when Seokjin had mentioned your one month anniversary. Should he be planning something? He wasn’t sure. To be honest, he didn’t really want to celebrate your wedding day, it felt like it was yours. It was more for other people than anything. Not to mention, he didn’t want to call attention back to when he’d been acting so crassly. Yoongi cringed at the memory.
Besides, Namjoon had mentioned that you two were going to a gallery that day. Yoongi was only slightly jealous, or that was what he was telling himself. Why did you have to have so much in common with his friends and be so personable? His envy grew at the fact that Namjoon would be spending so much time with you on your wedding anniversary, despite Yoongi’s earlier dismissal of it. How was it fair that the man you were spending your anniversary with wasn’t your husband, but his friend?
Maybe he should plan something for that day for when you come back from the gallery. The idea made him smile. He wanted to make it a special day for you, and with newfound determination to show up Namjoon, he would.
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#yoongi#yoongi fic#bts yoongi#min yoongi#yoongi smut#min yoongi smut#yoongi x reader#bts fic recs#yoongi x you#bangtan#bangtan smut#bangtan fanfic#bangtan x reader#bangtan fic#bts fic#bts smut#bts#bts fanfic#bts imagine#bts x reader#bts x you#min yoongi fanfiction#min yoongi x reader#min yoongi fanfic#myg x reader#myg fic#myg smut#myg#myg angst#asingledaffodil
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In my cozy jammies after a long day and ready to read this fic. Kipo, I am so excited you would not believe; bb's first enha fic that I'm reading!! I fully bypassed all warnings for a full surprise.
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. There's something about this line that drives me insane in the best way ever; like that expression??
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. I absolutely love this like as well because I think it perfectly encapsulates what perfectionism does to you, it absolutely gnaws at your skin or mimicks voices in your head until the outcome is as you want it
The moment where reader is in the bathroom and tries to put a name to the feeling she has feels so vulnerable, I love it. The dolls resembling reader in some way, is cute yet it has really uncanny and slightly overwhelming undertones when you think of the amount of dolls in the house. It is also insane how far Sunghoon is willing to go, to try to replicate you exactly showing again how extreme the perfectionism is between the 2.
Again, despite the slight overwhelming feeling, Sunghoon mentioning that reader is flawless to him (despite understanding that she is human) also shows how loved she is too, even if it feels as if he goes a touch too far. Seeing reader's thoughts on this though, shows how twisted it comes across from her perspective (at least to me), as she sees perfectionism as a way for Sunghoon to stay, when it's clear it doesn't matter to him yknow. Seeing both sides shows how twisted the relationship is, I also love seeing how the reader herself seems a little off, like the moving dolls and the mockery she claims they do. To her, I think the weight of perfectionism causes that unfortunately.
I love how insane reader comes off😭 like I'm enjoying that a little too much. On the other hand, I'm loving their interaction and relationship and you can clearly see how much they love each other (albeit a lil twisted) but Sunghoon making the effort to stay home and reader being happy is so cute.
I'm not even gonna lie, Sunghoon is giving such killer vibes rn, between reader being borderline insane, the missing kids like???? Something is fishy
The dollification goes insane oh my god (it's lowkey (highkey) hot wtf). Sunghoon is so borderline insane oh my god. "Pretty dolls don't cry" holy shit. this is so insane Kipo how do you think about this like actually????screaming
OH. MY. GOD. NOT HIM ACTUALLY TRYING TO MAKE A LIFE SIZED DOLL FRFR??? like yeah Sunghoon is insane here, but??? he has gone do far that his perfectionism itself is skewed. His love is so twisted I LOVE IT!!!
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? Oh my god, I am screaming, this is so insane
THE END???? KIPO WHAT THR FREAK (lovingly). This was so freaking good and so freaking insane????? LIKE THE PLOT?? the whole concept of this twisted perfectionism??? Sunghoon literally turning her into a doll???? OH MY GOD??? I will never not get over this. I so agree with your ending note like after all that lowkey absolutely need that for real. Kipo you did it again, as I always say, I really do love your work, this was an amazing piece♡♡ I absolutely loved you dabbling in darker content, amazing.
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.
#xylatox ficrecs#──𝓣𝗛𝗘 𝓓𝗢𝗟𝗟𝓜𝗔𝗞𝗘𝗥 ˊ 𑁍#sunghoon x reader#sunghoon smut#sunghoon angst#sunghoon fluff#sunghoon hard hours#sunghoon soft hours#sunghoon fanfic#enhypen sunghoon#enhypen x reader#enhypen smut#enhypen angst#enhypen hard thoughts#enhypen fluff#enhypen hard hours#enhypen soft hours#enhypen soft thoughts#enhypen fanfic#enhypen imagines#enhypen scenarios#enhypen headcanons#kpop x reader#kpop smut#kpop angst#kpop fluff#kpop hard hours#kpop hard thoughts#kpop imagines#kpop scenarios
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Can you write more Dr. Phosphorus 🙏 the amount of fics he has is criminal, I think I've read all of them available-
Can do Anon, there's a reason I finally picked up the metaphorical pen and started writin again. Not enough content for the Skeleton Doctor.
GN Reader, no specifications but they are a meta human.
No TW, not beta read, I try to use as little (y/n) as I can, crossposted to my ao3 account!!
Word count: 1k
Sing your song Jailbird
(Doctor Phosphorus x Reader)
Getting yourself thrown into Belle Reve was never in your plans. You hadn't intended for things to go down the way they did but that's all it took. One little slip up left you tossing and turning in a cold dank cell.
You couldn't sleep, but that was most nights. Although you had no actual proof it was nighttime. You hadn't seen the outside world since before your incarceration. The guards had kept you in solitary for the first few days, giving some of the more… Animalistic inmates time to grow accustomed to your scent. Kind of like introducing two cats through a closed door so that they don't try to kill each other. Not that you were too worried about actually getting hurt.
You weren't really introduced to your fellow inmates so much as you were shoved into the open common area. Some douchebag guard yelling your last name as a means of identification before slamming the metal doors shut. You grumbled, more annoyed than anything before dusting yourself off and taking in your surroundings.
There weren't really that many other prisoners. Those that caught your attention being a giant shark man that was pointing and laughing at you. An enormous robot sipping from a can of gasoline. And a green skeleton? Rather a skeleton with a green fiery body.
Most of them turned their attention away from you shortly after glancing your way. But the Skeletal man tilted his head at you seemingly curious before going back to his game of solitaire.
You felt like a kid at a new school during recess. No idea who anyone is or how to talk to them. The decision was made for you as the robot drinking diesel made his way over to you. Each step shaking the floor a little.
"Hello new inmate, you seem to be a little disoriented. Could this be, G. I. Robot wonders, because you are secretly Nazi scum?" The robots arm transforms into a giant canon as he speaks, his red eyes glowing a little brighter.
"Woah! Absolutely not what the fuck?" You ask with a mixture of disbelief and disgust, your hands raised in surrender.
"Relax G.I. I don't think this is really Nazi material do you?" The skeletal man asks looking you up and down skeptically.
"Perhaps you are right, Doctor Friend." The robot apparently called G.I. says. Disarming himself and going back to sipping on his oil.
"Why don't you go check on Nina, I'm sure she'd appreciate the company." The irradiated man says, gently patting the metal giant on the back.
"That is a wonderful idea! I will go and check on Friend Nina and her Bride." The robot says cheerfully. You swear you can see a smile on his face as he walks away.
"Sorry about that, he's uh. Not too keen on Nazis."
"I couldn't tell." You say with an unamused roll of your eyes. "I'd rather there be a Nazi killing robot than a killer Nazi robot though." You murmur with a Huff of laughter.
"Yeah, you got that right." He says with a dry chuckle. "I'm Doctor Phosphorus." The strange man says after a beat of silence, turning his head to face you.
"(Y/n)" You say, reaching your hand out to shake his before glancing at his radioactive flesh. You withdraw slightly unsure if you can or should shake his hand.
"(Y/n… Well it's a pleasure to meet you but I wouldn't recommend shaking my hand unless you want to get radiation sickness." He says with a sigh.
You furrow your brow and before you can stop yourself you shake his hand anyway. Surprised at the heat radiating off of his palm. It's warm like when you hold your hand over a pot of boiling water just to feel the steam. You can hear a subtle buzz, a stream of quiet bubbling coming from his body.
He withdraws his hand first looking at it as if he had been burned, before looking back at you.
"Are you stupid or something?"
"Little bit." You say with a wide grin.
"You can't tell but I'm scowling at you with disapproval." The doctor says with a slight shake of his head.
"Well you're a doctor right? You can just fix me up if I get sick."
"I don't know if you can tell but I haven't exactly been a practicing physician recently." He says as he crosses his arms, looking you over again with a tilt of his head.
"How long has it been?" You ask, your brow raised in question.
The doctor sighs, "15 years give or take?"
"Goddamn. Guess I'm never getting out of here huh?" You ask with a dry chuckle.
"You ask a lotta questions (Y/n)."
"Who's Nina?" You question, despite the Doctors complaint.
He chuckles slightly before answering, "She's another inmate here, got hurt on a mission a little while ago. She's in the Med bay with Bride. Which is where you'll end up if you hang around me long enough." He says somewhat dejected.
You laugh lightly not taking his words too seriously. "Who's Bride?"
"Your leader on the field if you ever get picked for a mission." He says as he walks back over to his game of solitaire.
You follow after him with a skip in your step. You were already warming up to this guy even if he wasn't 100% sure about you. He takes a seat and glances obviously at the chair beside him, silently asking if you're going to take it.
You sit down and fold your hands in your lap, twiddling your thumbs. You expect him to keep playing his game of solitaire but you're surprised as he shuffles the cards carefully. You wonder how he isn't burning them.
"You know how to play go fish?" He asks as he starts dealing the cards between the two of you. Not bothering to wait for a response.
"Yeah, it's been a while though." You say, glancing from his hands to his face and back.
"That's just fine with me Jailbird." He says as he picks up his cards, rearranging his decks order.
You smile at him with a little mirth in your eyes. Maybe this won't be so bad after all.
I'll write a part 2 if anyone really likes this! cheesey little ending but i figure its better to leave it open ended :) It's just the basic reader is an inmate in Belle Reve au. Although I am including Nina surviving and being nursed back to health while Bride watches over her.
#doctor phosphorus#dr phosphorus#creature commandos#alex sartorius#doctor phosphorus x reader#dr phosphorus x reader#divider by cafekitsune#x gn reader#x reader#my writing#my post#writers on tumblr
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@ Anyone reading, liking and commenting on my Salesman series
I said this a few times already, but I didn't make a post on it yet and right now I really feel like doing that. I'll be completely honest, I've been having (and still am having) a pretty rough time lately. I was always kind of melancholic, but a few years ago I was lively and got my life done somehow. But then I got really depressed and ever since that, I feel like I lost myself in the process. I'm not just saying that as a phrase, I mean it when I say; I lost who I once was. I got anxiety so bad, on some days I can't even order my food on my own. My life somehow deteriorated. I used to write a lot, when I was a teen, like really much. But these last few months and years weighed hard on me. And then, like maybe two weeks ago, I had this random idea with the reader getting attacked and the Salesman saving her and I thought, well, why not?
I cannot begin to describe what the sheer amount of love and positivity I have received ever since has done to me. I feel like I'm slowly learning how to piece myself back together, after living in my head for so long. Everyone, and I mean this, Every. Single. One of you is responsible for this and I will forever be grateful for every kind word, every comment, every like, every message and every smile you gifted me and still are. This whole series means a lot to me, because I feel like it's my comeback from death. I've grown to love the characters and I love bringing them to life in a way that heals trauma, as well as to maybe cause some on the way (It's still fictional and he is a twisted motherfucker, after all🤫), but what means far more to me are you, guys. Every single one of you. I can unabashedly and without any shame tell you that I really, really love you. Thank you. 🤍
(And no, it's not finished yet, before anyone panics, I'm currently working on Chapter 10!!!)
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THE ART OF LOVE
pairings. cho hyun-ju x f!reader
cw. no games au, all fluff, reader is an artist, established relationship, the use of 'y/n' like once.
author's note: hehehe, requests for hyun-ju are still open! please send me some more ideas for her, fluff and headcanons have been doing really well so maybe more of that. and p.s. i write for other squid game characters!! keep in mind to the read the guidelines before sending an ask.
you've always enjoyed art. to be creating intricate pieces that are just so full of love and passion, it's everything you've ever known. you've held it deeply in your heart ever since you were little. it's more than a hobby to you, more than just a form of expression— it had caused such a spark of creativity within you, you were able to create pictures that were straight from the soul.
everything you've ever molded, drew, or painted, they were all so greatly appreciated by your peers and you took pride in it. every single work you've made has held a story you weren't able to say aloud, your portraits spoke the sentences you could've never thought straight.
but you knew the struggles with pursuing an art career. though, you fully believe it'll all be worth it.
however during one rainy night, you were officially rejected from the last exhibition you proposed to. the subway ride back to your apartment was deafening, disappointment lingered in the air, your thoughts suffocated with the stress of the next step you should take.
that's where you first met hyun-ju. she was sitting just right in front of you, her head focused on her boots. you couldn't see her at first, still, you knew she had to be beautiful. her hair is well-kept, bangs neat, she seemed like such a lovely person to be around. your gaze sparked as she tilted her head up, revealing her unreal beauty.
you still had three more stops until yours, so like you always do, you grab your sketchbook to pass the time. you drew, traced lines, perfected the shapes, made sure you got all the right details. you sketched the woman in front of you.
she too had a curious eye on you. you seemed interesting, visually ambitious and passionate. she wondered what you were drawing, she wished she had the courage to speak to you.
she was fooled when you gave the picture of her. your voice was shy, but it held a very warm and welcoming tone, you're friendly, hyun-ju took note.
your stop was coincidentally the same as hyun-ju's, which obviously led to an awkward first conversation. you shared very vague stories of how you started art, you don't want to be vulnerable just yet, that's where your paintings take part.
and that all led to you today.
it was cold, the snow had calmed down a bit since the past weeks. you were sipping onto your last cup of warm hot chocolate. hyun-ju sat close next to you, her head slowly leaning on yours. there was multiple blank canvas' in the corner of the room, it all just came yesterday morning.
"y/n?"
"hm?" you hummed,
"can i ask you a question? or more or so, a request?" hyun-ju asked, you nodded. "could you teach me how to paint? i see you doing it a lot, and i'm very intrigued. you look so professional and i just wonder how you're just so talented.."
you smile, the hot chocolate left a foam mustache on your face. hyun-ju laughs, "please?"
"anything for my muse. come on. i'll teach you."
the rest of your day was spent guiding hyun-ju's hands as she painted the bouquet of flowers placed on a wooden table. it is simple yet a reminder of a memory you two spent. she was a natural. she sat near your lap, your hands held her waist as she began to paint the strokes herself.
"looks beautiful, hyun." your cheek squished hers, you cupped her face like a proud mother. "you think so?" hyun-ju questions, "i know so, when it dries, i'll hang it up in the living room." you place a kiss on her forehead before skipping away in excitement.
#cho hyunju#cho hyun ju#cho hyun-ju#cho hyun ju x reader#cho hyunju fanfic#squid game cho hyunju#hyunju x reader#hyun ju#hyunju#hyun ju squid game#hyun ju x reader#player 120#player 120 x reader#squid game spoilers#squid game 2#squid game s2#squid game x y/n#squid game#squid game x reader#squid game x you#squid game fanfic#squid game fluff
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HI may i request a junho fic where junho keeps seeing reader and arresting her and taking her into custody and she keeps saying “this is the last time you’ll see me” and then he arrests her like two days later and hes like “are you doing this on purpose?” and reader is like “maybe” and then it escalates from there into freaky time 🤭🤭
𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐞𝐟 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐧 | hwang jun-ho × fem!reader
summary | the request
warnings | criminal behavior (theft), smut, explicit content, p in v, unprotected sex
word count | 2.0 k
author's note | it would help me a lot if you liked, commented and reposted so that more people read what I write and don't forget to follow me, thanks ᡣ𐭩
You know what you're doing is wrong. You know it perfectly well. However, the risk and the possibility of being caught keep you moving. Your fingers graze the edge of a chocolate bar in a small convenience store. "It's no big deal," you tell yourself. A candy here, a poorly secured wallet there, always minor things. You don't need to do it, but something inside you pushes you.
You're about to leave the store with the chocolate hidden in your sleeve when you hear a familiar, firm voice behind you:
"Stop right there!"
Your heart skips a beat. It's him again. Slowly, you turn around, facing those dark eyes that seem to pierce you every time they meet yours. It's Officer Hwang Jun-ho, the same man who caught you a couple of weeks ago.
"You again?" he says incredulously, crossing his arms.
You smile as if it's some inside joke between the two of you.
"I guess I'm consistent, Officer."
He doesn't seem amused. His lips press into a thin line as he takes a step closer, making you instinctively step back. He observes you for a moment, as if trying to decipher your intentions.
"Hand over the chocolate," he says finally, extending his hand.
"What chocolate?" you ask with feigned innocence, raising your hands as if offended.
Jun-ho has no patience for your games. In a quick motion, he grabs your wrist and retrieves the candy from your sleeve. His touch is firm but not painful. You feel trapped, but not in a way that bothers you.
"You’re under custody for attempted theft," he declares, pulling handcuffs from his belt.
"Seriously? For a chocolate bar?" you protest, though you make no effort to resist.
He doesn't answer, simply leading you out of the store toward his patrol car. As you walk beside him, you can't help but notice him. There's something about his seriousness, the way his uniform fits his figure, that makes you want to provoke him even more.
The second time he catches you is at a street market. You're playing with a cheap keychain, pretending to be interested, when you "accidentally" slip it into your pocket. You barely take two steps before feeling a firm hand on your shoulder.
"Really?" Jun-ho says, his voice laced with incredulity.
You turn to face him, putting on your best innocent expression.
"Officer? What a coincidence."
He doesn't seem impressed. His gaze is stern, but you can see a spark of something else in his eyes. Maybe curiosity. Maybe irritation. Maybe something even he doesn't fully understand.
"Let’s go," he says, guiding you once again to his patrol car.
The ride to the station is silent this time, but the tension in the air is palpable. You can feel his gaze on you occasionally, as if trying to figure out your intentions. When you finally arrive, he lets you go with another warning.
"Don't do it again," he says with a seriousness that almost makes you feel guilty.
Almost.
The third time, you decide to be more obvious. You grab a pair of expensive headphones from a display case in a mall and head for the exit without even trying to hide them. It’s a bold move, but you know he’ll be nearby. And you’re right.
Before you can leave, you feel a hand on your arm, stopping you in your tracks.
"This has gone too far!" Jun-ho exclaims, his voice filled with frustration.
You turn to face him, trying hard not to smile.
"Oh, Officer, I thought we wouldn’t meet again."
He stares at you, his jaw clenched.
"What are you doing? Why do you keep doing this?"
"Why do you think?" you reply, leaning slightly toward him, invading his personal space.
Jun-ho seems thrown off for a moment, as if unsure how to respond. Finally, he leads you to a secluded alley instead of the station.
"Talk," he demands, crossing his arms. "Why do you keep stealing? You don’t need to do this. I know that."
You take a step closer, closing the distance between you.
"And what if I told you I do it for you?"
He blinks, surprised.
"What?"
"Maybe I like seeing you like this," you say, your eyes locked on his. "So serious. So frustrated. Maybe I want your attention."
Jun-ho studies you, his expression a mix of confusion and something deeper.
"Are you saying all of this was intentional?"
"Maybe," you murmur, leaning in even closer.
He grips your shoulders, his gaze searching for something in yours.
"This is insane," he murmurs, but he doesn’t pull away.
"Then stop me," you challenge, your voice barely a whisper.
Before you can say anything else, he kisses you. It’s an unexpected move, filled with all the tension that had been building between you two. It’s not soft or gentle, but it’s everything you hoped for. Your hands rest on his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart as the kiss deepens.
His hands, initially on your shoulders, slide to your waist, pulling you closer. Rationality takes a backseat as both of you get lost in the moment. No words are needed; everything is conveyed in the way his lips move against yours, in the way his hands hold you as if he doesn’t want to let go.
When you finally pull apart, both of you are breathless. Jun-ho looks at you with a mix of disbelief and something deeper.
"I can’t believe this just happened," he says, shaking his head.
You smile, still catching your breath.
"Maybe I should steal more often."
He chuckles softly, though his expression remains serious.
"You’re trouble, you know that?"
"And you seem to enjoy solving it."
Jun-ho sighs, but he can’t hide the small smile forming on his lips.
"This doesn’t change anything. It’s still my responsibility to stop you."
"Please do," you reply with a wink, knowing this won’t be the last time you provoke him.
Jun-ho takes a deep breath, trying to regain control. But his hands remain on your waist, as if he can’t bring himself to let you go. Suddenly, his eyes harden with determination.
"This is insane," he murmurs, stepping back. His hand moves to his belt, pulling out the handcuffs.
"What are you going to do, Officer? Cuff me?"
He doesn’t respond. With a swift and efficient motion, he secures the cuffs around your wrists. The metallic click of the locks makes your heart race even faster.
"Are you seriously taking me to the station for this?" you ask, but there’s a playful tone in your voice, as if you’re enjoying this turn of events.
Jun-ho studies you for a moment, and for the first time, he seems to hesitate.
"No. Not to the station."
"Then where?"
"To my apartment. We need to talk."
The seriousness in his tone surprises you, but you don’t have time to question it. He leads you to his car and helps you into the passenger seat, your hands still cuffed. The silence between you during the ride is heavy, charged with palpable tension.
When you arrive at his apartment, he helps you out of the car and escorts you inside. The space is neat, minimalist, but cozy. Jun-ho carefully removes the cuffs, his fingers brushing against your skin.
"Sit," he says, gesturing to the couch.
But instead of obeying, you step closer to him, challenging the distance he’s trying to maintain.
"Do you really think you need to do this?" you murmur, your words a whisper between the two of you.
Jun-ho closes his eyes for a moment, as if trying to gather his strength. But when he opens them, something in his gaze has changed. He grabs your arms, his grip firm but not aggressive.
"I don’t know what you do to me," he confesses in a low voice, his breath brushing against your skin.
"Then stop overthinking," you reply, leaning toward him.
This time, the kiss you share is even more intense than the last. The tension that had been building for weeks finally erupts in a whirlwind of emotions. His hands find your waist again, and yours slide up to his neck as you both surrender to the moment.
Without breaking the kiss, Jun-ho guides you toward his bedroom. The intimacy of his personal space only heightens the heat between you. The touches grow more desperate, breaths mix, and clothing begins to disappear, piece by piece.
Your heart races a thousand miles an hour, but there is no fear in it. Just need.
When you both fall into bed, you are aware that everything has changed forever. This is not just sex. It's much more. It's the culmination of all the times it caught you, challenged you to continue, gave in to your provocations.
When he positions himself over you, his eyes lock onto yours for a moment before taking his time. He positions himself between your legs, caressing them as he enters you. Both of you gasp, the pleasure simmering slowly inside you. Jun-ho's movements are slow, deliberate, as if he were trying to prolong this moment forever.
"I'm very close," he murmured softly, his teeth finding the lobe of your ear. "And you?"
"Yes," you whisper, your fingers digging into his shoulders as you both reach climax.
The pleasure that envelops you is overwhelming. It's not a simple orgasm, but a profound experience, something that changes you from within. They both stand still for a moment as the world readjusts around them. Then, their lips find yours in a soft kiss, but full of meaning.
Later, while they lie together in bed, their bodies intertwined, Jun-ho looks at you with an expression that mixes exhaustion and tenderness.
"This wasn't in the procedure manual," he says with a weak smile.
You laugh softly, caressing his face.
"Maybe you should write a new one" .
He sighs, kissing your forehead.
"You are a lost cause" .
"And you are completely stuck with me, officer".
#squid game smut#jun ho squid game#squid game#squid game x reader smut#hwang junho#jun ho x reader#hwang jun ho
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𝒾𝒾𝒾 ⁞ AS WE ARE “𝑎 𝑏𝘰𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑦, 𝑠𝑎𝜈𝑒𝑑 𝑏𝑦 𝑦𝘰𝑢𝑟 𝘰𝑛𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝘰𝑛𝑙𝑦.” ── hang out. libraries. kids. food. turns out, baseball guy isn't only a baseball guy..?
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𓍯 baseballcapt!seungmin ʚଓ fem!reader :( 𝒾 )9.1k── ༯ SERIES uni au, slow paced & slow burn, curiosity, fluff, strangers to friends to ???, small town, slight angst, language, skz ensemble, very long, y/n is a foreigner/has mixed ethnicity, angsty, humour. ⸝⸝𓂃 LiBRARY . /ᐠ.ꞈ.ᐟ\ྀིྀི
yani's note ˖˙ ᰋ a month and 5 days to the last update of this fic omg !!!!! yes it is finally here and it's very long. IM SORRY but i love this chapter sm im actually so proud of myself with this :3 hope you all like it !! <3 i love seungmin sm guys, pls tag me if you find any good seungmo fics mwah. also when i posted the last chapter, i had only crossed 300 followers. right now, as of when im posting this, i actually just passed 600 of you, oh my god. in a span of 36 days, thank you so much to every single one of you ! this really motivates me a lot :(( i am also posting the requested fics soon loves, please be patient !!! comments, likes, req/asks and reblogs are always appreciated ! send in a reply or an ask if you want to be in my mastertag, or my individual series' taglists. happy reading <3
the sun hung low in the sky, its warm rays stretching lazily over the quiet baseball field. a faint breeze rustled the leaves of nearby trees, carrying with it the distant hum of voices from the university festival on the other side of town.
y/n strolled across the usual field with her usual carefree stride, her satchel slung over one shoulder and a grande paper cup of peach tea in her hand. her gaze caught a familiar figure, who she may have been hoping to find.
he stood on the pitcher’s mound, his cap pulled low over his face as usual, a baseball gripped loosely in his hand. his focus was sharp, his movements practiced and fluid as he wound up and pitched the ball toward the net. the satisfying smack of the ball hitting its target echoed across the empty field.
she paused for a moment, watching him. he looked so at ease here, like the field was an extension of himself. she smiled to herself before calling out, “practicing alone again?”
seungmin turned at the sound of her voice, his expression softening slightly when he saw her. “car girl, again,” he said, a hint of amusement in his tone.
she rolled her eyes at the nickname, though she couldn’t help but smile. “that nickname is never going away, is it?”
“not a chance,” he said, turning back to the net and throwing another pitch.
she began teasingly, walking closer to the netted boundary of the field. “so, has this time now become your usual or are you just excited to see your new friend everyday now?”
he shrugged, tossing the ball idly in one hand. “don't flatter yourself, maybe it's because i'm actually bored for once.”
“oh well, didn't hurt to try,” she laughed softly, the sound light and warm like the breeze that rustled the trees surrounding the field. she stopped a few feet away from him, crossing her arms as she watched the ball sail cleanly into the net. “your friends aren't here today?”
“nope,” he replied, brushing a bit of dirt off his palm. “they’re at some event thing on campus. didn’t feel like going.”
“why not?” she asked, genuinely curious.
he shrugged, retrieving another ball from the bucket nearby. “not my scene.”
she tilted her head, a teasing smile on her lips. “you say that about a lot of things.”
“that’s because it’s true about a lot of things,”
“so, instead of loud festivals, you decided to spend your evening throwing balls alone?”
“better than standing around pretending to have fun,” he said, his lips twitching into a faint smirk as he pitched the ball again.
“you really do have a grumpy streak, don’t you?”
“i’m not grumpy,” he shot back, catching the ball as it rebounded off the glove.
“you keep saying that,” she said, her voice light with amusement. “but i’m not convinced.”
seungmin glanced at her, shaking his head. “you talk too much.”
“again, only because you talk too little,” she countered easily, her grin widening.
he let out a soft huff—somewhere between a sigh and a laugh—before walking over to grab the ball again. this time, instead of pitching, he sat down on the grass near her, resting his elbows on his knees.
she blinked in mild surprise but quickly recovered, sitting up straighter. “taking a break?”
“something like that,” he said, spinning the ball absently in his hands.
“so,” she began, tucking her legs beneath her and leaning forward slightly. “if you don’t like festivals or loud places, what do you like?”
he gave her a sidelong glance, as if deciding whether to answer. “quiet places. like the library.”
“oh, so you did like the library,” she teased, her eyes sparkling.
he shook his head, a faint smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “i liked that it was quiet.”
“and because it had me,” she joked, “and what else? besides quiet places?”
he was quiet for a moment, his gaze drifting to the horizon where the sun hung low, casting long shadows across the field. “baseball,” he said eventually. “obviously.”
“obviously,” she echoed with a playful smile. “what else?”
“you’re really nosy,” he said, though his tone lacked any real bite.
“i prefer ‘curious,’” she said with a shrug. “come on, there’s gotta be more to you than baseball and quiet places.”
he didn’t respond right away, and for a moment, she thought he might not answer at all. but then he said, almost reluctantly, “music.”
her eyes lit up. “really? what kind?”
“depends,” he said, turning the ball in his hands. “mostly calm stuff. acoustic, sometimes jazz.”
“same!” she said excitedly, leaning forward. “do you play anything?”
he glanced at her, his expression unreadable. “guitar. a little, a friend is helping me.”
“seriously?” she asked, her excitement growing. “that’s really cool. i tried to play piano in elementary.. but let's just say i'm not too good with two hands and multitasking.”
"well, guess it’s a good thing breathing only takes one set of lungs."
“you're mean.”
“i prefer honest.”
“what about singing?” she asked again, her voice softer now.
he raised an eyebrow. “what about it?”
“do you sing?”
he shook his head. “not really.”
“not really or not at all?”
“not at all,” he said firmly, though there was a faint glimmer of amusement in his eyes.
“hm, interesting.” she mumbled under her breath, as he looked at her for a bit, and then stood up, dusting the dirt off his tracks and walking back to the field.
“so, what’s your plan? just… keep throwing balls at a net until sunset?”
“pretty much,” he said, glancing at her. “unless you’ve got a better idea.”
“are you admitting to wanting to be in my company?”
“no, i'm simply taking your offer from yesterday. you know, if i ever need help venturing around.”
“oh, did i say that?”
“you compared yourself to dor-”
“it's a rhetorical question!” her cheeks warmed up, at the realisation of her random 'boldness' from the previous day.
“but.. fair enough,” she shrugged, “in that case, i might have a better idea or a few.” she said, her grin widening mischievously.
he raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical but willing to entertain her suggestion. “oh yeah? let’s hear it.”
“well, it’s not much of a plan yet,” she admitted, resting her chin on her knees. “but you could hang out with your beloved library-worker-plus-her-who's-mysteriously-at-the-field-every-day-now-turned-friend, later. you know, after you’re done being all serious and athletic.”
he paused, the ball in his hand, and looked at her fully for a moment. “hang out?”
“yeah,” she said casually, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “you’re bored and free, i’m bored and free… why not?”
he considered her for a moment, his expression unreadable. “you’re pretty straightforward, you know that?”
she grinned, unfazed. “pretty? check. straightforward? definitely check. so yeah, what do you say?”
“i’ll think about it,” he said, turning back to the net.
“wow,” she said, pretending to be offended. “that’s the most noncommittal answer and rejection i’ve ever heard.”
he smirked slightly, not looking at her. “better than a no.”
“fine.” she said with a shrug, leaning back on her hands.
they fell into a comfortable silence after that, the rhythmic thwack of the ball hitting the net filling the air. the sun hung lower in the sky now, casting long shadows across the field and painting everything in shades of gold and orange.
eventually, the guy had straightened up, stretching his arms over his head. He glanced over at y/n, who was still sitting in the grass, absentmindedly twisting a strand of hair around her finger as she watched the sky.
“you’re still here,” he said, his tone more surprised than accusatory.
“oh you're done!” she replied, smiling up at him. “and yeah, of course, i was waiting for your answer.”
he shook his head slightly, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. “you're not gonna leave unless i say no, are you?”
“glad to know you're catching up! but i know you were never gonna say no, if you had a choice too.” her face lit up instantly, her grin so bright it could’ve rivaled the setting sun. “i promise i won’t be too annoying, by the way.”
“somehow, i don’t believe that,” he said, though there was no real bite to his words.
she laughed, springing to her feet and brushing the grass off her skirt. “you’ll survive. come on, let’s go, baseball boy.”
he rolled his eyes but followed her off the field, the faintest hint of a smile still lingering on his lips.
“call me a creep,” she said with a grin, glancing back at him as he tried to catch up with her. “but i did see a messy stack of crumpled music sheets under your backpack the other day. so i know you're not good at lying.”
seungmin froze mid-step, his eyes narrowing slightly as he processed her words. he stopped walking, turning his head slowly to look at her with a mixture of suspicion and amusement.
“you what?” he asked, voice laced with disbelief but not quite sharp.
y/n stopped a few paces ahead of him, spinning around to face him with an innocent shrug and a playful grin. “you heard me.” she leaned slightly toward him as if to emphasize her point.
he blinked at her, “you really are a creep.”
“hey!” she exclaimed, laughing as she placed a hand over her chest in mock offense. “i wasn’t snooping or anything. i just.. happened to see it while you were busy.”
“you just happened to notice crumpled music sheets under my backpack? that’s oddly specific.”
“call it observational skills,” she said matter-of-factly, tilting her head as she smiled at him again. “besides, you’re dodging the point.”
“which is?” he asked, folding his arms across his chest.
“you’re not good at lying,” she said, her tone teasing but her eyes sparkling with curiosity. “you said you didn’t play anything? but clearly, you’ve got something going on with music.”
he stared at her for a moment, his expression unreadable. she could tell he was debating whether or not to admit anything. finally, he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked off to the side while they walked slower.
“it’s not a big deal,” he muttered, his voice quieter now.
she raised an eyebrow, her grin softening into something more genuine. “clearly, it’s a big enough deal that you’re hiding it.”
“it’s just.. something i mess around with sometimes,” he said, still avoiding her gaze. “nothing serious.”
“mess around with?” she echoed, “like ..writing? playing? singing?”
“all of the above,” he admitted reluctantly, his voice barely audible.
“that's really cool, you know.”
“it’s not,” he said quickly, looking genuinely embarrassed now. “it’s just something i do when i’m bored.”
“doesn’t matter,” she said with a shake of her head. “it’s still cool. and honestly, it makes so much sense now.”
“what does?”
“why you’re so good at reading people,” she said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “music’s all about emotions, right? you must have a knack for it.”
he blinked at her, clearly caught off guard by her logic. “…that’s a stretch.”
“is it?” she asked, tilting her head as she looked at him again. “come on, admit it. you’re secretly a genius, aren’t you?”
he rolled his eyes, but there was a faint flush on his cheeks now, barely visible in the dimming light. “you’re really weird, you know that?”
“and you’re really deflecting,” she said, grinning as she nudged his arm with her shoulder.
silence. the field was quiet, as the pair finally exited through the rusty old gates.
“i’m not hiding it or anything,” he said after a long pause. “it’s just something i don’t really talk about. that’s all.”
she nodded, her smile softening into something more understanding. “i get it. but for the record, i think it's a great hobby. you don’t have to hide it around me.”
he glanced at her then, his expression unreadable for a moment before he let out a quiet chuckle.
the walk was simple. the quiet of the small town wrapping around them like a warm blanket. the golden-orange glow of streetlights lit up the pathway in patches, casting soft shadows as the two strolled side by side. the occasional passerby—an older man walking his dog or a young couple holding hands—added a gentle hum of life to the evening, but it was mostly just the two of them.
y/n kicked at a stray pebble on the sidewalk, the sound of it skittering ahead breaking the silence. she looked over at seungmin, who was walking with his hands in his pockets, his shoulders relaxed but his face unreadable.
“you walk like you have all the time in the world.”
he raised an eyebrow at her. “and you walk like you’re about to challenge someone to a race.”
“funny you should say that,” she grinned, already picking up her pace. “because i was just thinking—”
“y/n, no,” he said immediately, his tone flat but his eyes narrowing as if he already knew where this was going.
“oh, come on!” she laughed, already a few steps ahead of him now. she spun around to face him, walking backward as she pointed toward the distant outline of the bus stop up ahead. “race you to the bus stop. loser owes the winner a snack!”
“i’m not racing you,” he said, shaking his head.
“scared you’ll lose?” she taunted, her grin widening.
he let out a small sigh, running a hand through his hair. “considering i'm the least athletic, y-” he mumbled to himself.
“fine,” she said, throwing her hands up dramatically. “guess i’ll just win by default, then!”
with that, she turned and took off, her laughter trailing behind her as she sprinted toward the bus stop.
seungmin stood there for a second, watching her with an incredulous look before muttering under his breath, “unbelievable.” despite himself, he started jogging after her, his strides quickly closing the gap between them.
she reached the bus stop just a second before him, her chest heaving as she laughed and turned to face him. “looks like you owe me—”
“nothing,” he interrupted, standing just a few feet away, barely out of breath. “you cheated.”
“what?” she exclaimed, her hands flying to her hips. “how did i cheat?”
“you gave yourself a head start,”
“excuses, excuses,” she said, waving him off as she leaned against the bus stop pole. “a loss is a loss, seungmin.”
before he could reply, the bus pulled up, its headlights cutting through the dim light. the doors hissed open, and y/n wasted no time, darting inside with the same energy as before. “i call the window seat!” she called over her shoulder.
seungmin followed her at a more relaxed pace, shaking his head. “you’re a child,” he muttered as he climbed the steps.
“aren't we all?”
inside, the bus was mostly empty, save for a small group of middle schoolers sitting near the front. they were chatting animatedly, their voices a mix of excitement and laughter. she had already claimed her spot by the window, her bag plopped down on her lap as she looked out at the darkening sky.
“don’t just stand there,” she said, looking up at him with a teasing smile. “sit.”
he sighed, sliding into the seat beside her. “you’re really full of energy today.”
“always am,” she replied cheerfully, leaning her head against the window as the bus started moving.
the middle schoolers noticed them then, their curious eyes flicking toward the older pair. one of the boys leaned forward, his face lighting up as he addressed the girl. “are you guys dating?”
seungmin nearly choked on his own breath, his head snapping toward the kid in disbelief.
y/n, however, paused, then shaking her head and senses back. “we’re friends.”
“really?” the boy asked, tilting his head. “you look like you’re dating.”
“we’re not,” seungmin said firmly, though his voice lacked its usual sharpness.
another girl from the group leaned in, grinning. “but you’d make a cute couple!”
“i swear, all kids this age only talk about crushes and dating..” he mumbled silently.
“see?” she said, nudging him with her elbow. “even kids think we’re cute together.”
“don’t encourage them.”
she laughed again, turning back to the kids. “what about you guys? why are you out so late?”
“we had cram school,” one of them replied, his tone dramatic. “it’s the worst.”
y/n gasped in mock horror, clasping her hands together. “cram school? at your age? you poor things.”
the kids laughed, clearly enjoying her playful energy. “do you go to uni?” one of the girls asked.
“yup,” she said, nodding. “and i work part-time at the library, too. it’s fun, but uni is… a lot.”
“you work at a library?” the boy from earlier asked. “that’s so cool!”
“not as cool as you think,” she said with a wink. “but it has its moments.”
as the conversation continued, seungmin found himself watching her more than he intended to. the way her eyes lit up as she talked to the kids, the easy way she laughed and made them feel comfortable—it was… nice. she had this warmth about her, this effortless ability to make people smile.
he didn’t realize he was staring until one of the kids pointed at him. “what about you, mister? what do you do?”
“baseball,” he said simply, his gaze flicking away from her as he addressed the group.
“whoa, really? are you on a team?”
“not really an official one,” he said, his tone calm but polite. “but it's with my uni friends.”
“that’s so cool!” the kids chorused, their admiration genuine.
“looks like you’ve got some fans.”
he rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the faint smile that tugged at his lips. “you’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
“absolutely,”
as the bus continued down the quiet streets, the group fell into a comfortable rhythm, the kids’ chatter filling the space. and though seungmin wasn’t much of a talker, he found himself joining in, answering their questions and even cracking a joke or two.
she glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, her smile softening as she watched him interact with the kids. for someone who claimed to be reserved, he had a way of connecting with people when he let his guard down.
by the time the bus reached their stop, the middle schoolers waved goodbye with big smiles, their energy still high.
“see you around!” one of them called as they hopped off.
“bye!” y/n had replied, waving back enthusiastically.
as the two of them stepped off the bus, the quiet of the town greeted them once more. she stretched her arms above her head, a content sigh escaping her lips. “come on,” she skipped quickly.
“so,” seungmin said, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets and giving her a skeptical look. “where exactly are we going? you never actually said. are you sure you’re not kidnapping me?”
“if i were kidnapping you, wouldn’t i have tied you up and thrown you in the bus trunk or something?”
he tilted his head, pretending to think. “you’ve clearly never kidnapped anyone before. that’s not how it works.”
“oh, you’re an expert now?” she shot back, her grin widening as she glanced over her shoulder at him.
“i’ve watched enough movies to know you’re doing it wrong,” he deadpanned, his lips twitching upward.
“good to know.” she gave him a mock salute before skipping a little farther down the street. “come on! i know a great street food cart around here. you’re not afraid of trying new things, are you?”
he raised an eyebrow as he followed her. “i think i’ll survive. lead the way, sunshine.”
they stopped at a small street food cart nestled on a quiet corner, the warm smell of grilled meat and savory spices filling the air. a cheerful elderly vendor greeted them with a smile, his weathered hands busy flipping skewers on the grill. the small counter was lined with colorful condiments, sauces, and steaming bowls of rice.
“ah, young love!” the vendor teased as they approached. “out for a date, y/n?”
y/n's cheeks flushed, but she recovered quickly, laughing as she leaned her elbows on the counter. “not a date. just two people enjoying good food.”
“hmm, that’s what they all say,” the man said with a wink, handing her a menu.
seungmin sighed, shaking his head. “we’re not—”
“shh,” she interrupted, whispering, nudging him with her elbow. “let the man think what he wants. who knows, we might even get a discount.”
he gave her a look but didn’t argue, instead glancing at the menu she was holding. “what’s good here?”
“everything,” she said with a grin, handing it to him. “but if i had to pick, the japchae and chicken skewers are my favorites.”
he nodded, ordering exactly what she suggested while y/n added a few other things to their order. as they waited, she leaned back against the cart, looking up at the star-dotted sky.
“you’re not from around here, are you?” seungmin asked suddenly, his voice breaking the comfortable silence.
she shook her head, still gazing upward. “nope.. well not exactly. had to move here after elementary. my grandparents live here, though. i’ve been staying with them.”
“must be nice,” he said, his tone soft. “having family nearby.”
she smiled at that, turning to face him. “yeah. they’re great. super nosy, though. if they knew i was out with you right now, they’d probably be interrogating me over dinner later.”
“oh, so i’m a topic of conversation now?” he teased, one corner of his mouth quirking up.
“only because they’re obsessed with matchmaking,” she replied, rolling her eyes fondly. “they're caring, though. they just.. want me to be happy.”
he studied her for a moment, his gaze lingering on the way her eyes crinkled when she smiled. “you seem happy.”
“i try to be,” she said simply, her voice quiet but steady, though there was an unfamiliar flicker in her eyes as she blinked it away. “life’s too short not to find little things to smile about, you know?”
before he could respond, the vendor handed them their food, and y/n immediately brightened, clapping her hands together. “perfect timing! let’s eat.”
they found a bench nearby, the soft glow of a lamppost casting a golden halo over their little spot. she handed him his share of the food before digging into her own, her face lighting up with every bite.
“this is so good,” she said around a mouthful of cold noodles, earning a laugh from seungmin.
“you’ve got sauce on your face,” he pointed out, gesturing to the corner of his own mouth.
“where?” she asked, swiping at her face with her sleeve.
“other side,” he said, leaning forward slightly. when she still missed it, he sighed, pulling a napkin from the bag and reaching over to wipe it off himself. “honestly, you’re worse than a kid.”
she froze for a second, her cheeks warming as his fingers brushed her skin. “thanks,” she mumbled, her voice softer than usual.
he pulled back quickly, clearing his throat as he sat up straighter. “you’re welcome.”
they ate in comfortable silence for a while, the sounds of the town around them—distant conversations, the hum of passing cars—filling the gaps. every now and then, seungmin would glance at her out of the corner of his eye, watching the way her face lit up as she talked about her favorite foods or how she waved enthusiastically at strangers passing by.
“you’re really… outgoing,” he said finally, his tone thoughtful.
“is that a bad thing?”
“no,” he said quickly, shaking his head. “it’s just.. different. in a good way.”
her smile softened, and she looked down at her hands. “thanks. i think?”
he shrugged, taking another bite of his food. “don’t let it go to your head.”
she laughed, the sound light and musical, and he found himself smiling despite himself. for someone so different from him, she was surprisingly easy to be around.
she leaned back on the bench, her chopsticks idly stirring the remaining japchae sauce in her container. her eyes sparkled with curiosity as she turned toward seungmin, who was quietly munching on a chicken skewer.
“so,” she began, her tone playful yet pointed. “you said you did play the guitar right?”
he paused mid-bite, his brows furrowing slightly as he glanced at her. “why does it sound like an interrogation?”
“because it is,” she replied, grinning. “i mean, you didn’t mention it until i asked you. oh and what’s the deal with the music sheets under your backpack the other day? planning to start a band or something?”
he huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “hardly. i’m just.. messing around. nothing serious.”
“messing around?” she echoed, her head tilting slightly as she scrutinized him. “come on, min. you don’t just carry music sheets around for no reason. what are you working on?”
he shifted uncomfortably, avoiding her gaze by focusing on the skewer in his hand. “i’m not working on anything. i just play a little when i have time. that’s all.”
she squinted at him, clearly unconvinced. “you’re being suspiciously vague.”
“maybe because there’s nothing more to say,” he countered, raising an eyebrow at her.
“oh, there’s definitely more to say,” she retorted, leaning closer as if trying to read his expression better. “do you write songs? or are you just playing covers? be honest—are you secretly a rockstar?”
he rolled his eyes, but there was a faint smile tugging at his lips. “definitely not a rockstar. and no, i’m not writing songs. i barely know enough to play properly as it is.”
“barely know enough?” she repeated, her tone skeptical. “you strike me as the type who’d quietly get really good at something and then pretend you’re just ‘okay’ at it.”
he let out a short laugh, shaking his head. “i’m really not that good. i’m just learning the basics. chords, strumming patterns, that kind of stuff.”
“that’s still cool,” she said earnestly, her face softening. “everyone starts somewhere. are you teaching yourself?”
“yeah,” he admitted, his voice quieter now. “i found an old guitar in the storage room at home and thought i’d give it a try. it’s.. relaxing.”
she smiled at that, leaning back against the bench. “music is good for that. it’s like.. this little world you can escape to, you know?”
“music is.. kind of magic, don’t you think?” she said, her voice tinged with awe. “like, it’s not just sounds. it’s emotion. it’s stories. it’s—” she paused, searching for the right word, “—connection. you can listen to a song in a language you don’t even understand, and still feel it. isn’t that amazing? like, how can a few notes and some words make you feel like that?”
she tilted her head back, staring up at the sky as she continued, her voice softening but growing no less passionate. “and it’s not just the big, dramatic moments, either. it’s the little ones, like how a single chord can make your chest ache, or how a melody can take you back to a memory you thought you’d forgotten. it’s so… alive. like it has this way of pulling you in, making you feel something you didn’t even know you were missing.”
he had just been listening, watching her as she spoke, but she didn’t seem to notice.
“and it’s so personal,” she said, her voice quieter now. “everyone has their own song, you know? something that feels like it’s just for them, like it knows them in a way no one else does. that’s what i love about it. music isn’t just one thing. it’s so many things, all at once. it’s chaos and comfort and beauty and sadness. it’s… everything.”
she exhaled, a small, almost sheepish smile crossing her face as she looked at him. “sorry, i’m rambling. i just—when i think about it, i can’t help it. it’s like… music’s the closest thing we have to magic.”
he glanced at her, surprised by how sincere she sounded. it was quiet for a moment, until he spoke. “do you?”
“hm?” that had gotten her attention, though the air felt slightly thicker now.
“i mean, you said earlier that you can't multitask. despite how hard i find it to believe- what i meant to ask was if you sang.. or tried playing after that or not.”
the girl only shifted her gaze and paused for a bit, exhaling as she smiled briefly again, “i did, try to play the guitar, in middle school. but i just kinda gave up after that,” she chuckled awkwardly. “and as for singing? i just hum here and there, but nothing professional or serious.”
“the way you talk about it says otherwise.”
“how do i talk about it?”
he tilted his head, studying her with an intensity that made her shift slightly in her seat. then, he smiled, soft and a little disbelieving, as if he couldn’t quite figure her out.
“you talk about it like it’s your whole world,” he started, his voice quieter, almost reflective. “like, when you mentioned music, your tone changed. it’s.. different. it’s not just words with you — it’s like your entire energy shifts. you sound so.. alive. like you’re describing something that’s a part of you, something you feel in your bones.”
he paused, glancing down at his hands as if he were trying to piece the rest together. “it’s in the way you look when you talk about it, too. you get this light in your eyes, like you’re remembering something important. like you’re somewhere else entirely—like music isn’t just something you like. it’s something you need. like it’s this space where nothing else matters, you know? like it’s a place that’s just yours.”
she blinked, caught off guard by the weight of his words. he ran a hand through his hair, clearing his throat as though realizing how much he’d said. but then, as if he couldn’t help himself, he continued, his gaze locking onto hers again.
his words hung in the air, heavy and quiet, as if they were something fragile. “am i wrong?” he asked finally, though he didn’t sound entirely convinced that he could be.
“for a baseball guy you're quite the poet.”
“that's not an answer.”
“i didn't mean to answer.”
“well?”
“well what?”
“am i?”
“you're not wrong. but music is just something.. i adore. like everyone else! that's all that there is to it.” she pursed her lips, getting up with the wooden bowl that was once full of japchae, to walk to the stall again and hand it to the man with a smile. seungmin followed shortly after, feeling slightly curious but he shook it off.
“seungmin!” she called out. “come on!”
then they were on the street again. she walked slightly ahead, her steps light and playful, occasionally skipping over cracks in the sidewalk. seungmin followed at a slower, more measured pace, his hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket.
“so,” she said, turning her head slightly to glance at him with a bright smile. “since we’re walking and have time, i think we should play twenty questions.”
he raised an eyebrow. “that’s a dangerous game.”
“not if you answer honestly,” she replied with a shrug, her grin widening. “come on, it’ll be fun. i’ll start. what’s your favorite color?”
he paused, thinking. “blue, i guess.”
“safe choice,” she teased. “very original.”
he rolled his eyes. “alright, my turn. why are you always so upbeat?”
“hey, that’s not a yes-or-no question!” she protested, narrowing her eyes playfully.
“neither is ‘what’s your favorite color,’” he pointed out, smirking.
she huffed, crossing her arms as she walked. “fine. i guess i’m just naturally optimistic? or maybe i just don’t see the point in being gloomy all the time. life’s too short to be grumpy.”
“are you calling me grumpy?” he asked, his tone mock-offended.
“well, you are kind of the poster child for ‘brooding baseball guy,’” she quipped, flashing him a cheeky smile.
he let out a short laugh. “i’m not brooding.”
“sure you’re not,” she replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “alright, your turn again.”
he glanced at her, his curiosity piqued. “what made you want to work at the library?”
she tilted her head, thinking. “well, i’ve always loved books. and libraries are… peaceful, you know? there’s something magical about being surrounded by so many stories. plus, it’s a good excuse to read a lot while getting paid for it.”
“that makes sense,” he said, nodding. “what’s your favorite book, then?”
“oh, that’s impossible to answer!” she exclaimed, throwing her hands up dramatically. “there are too many. but if i had to pick.. maybe white nights. classic, romantic, sad. it’s got everything.”
“romantic, hm?” he teased, a small smirk tugging at his lips.
she shot him a look. “don’t make fun of me! it’s a great book.”
“i’m not making fun,” he said, raising his hands in mock surrender. “i just didn’t take you for a romantic. or someone who liked reading sad love stories.”
“well you'll be surprised,” she said. “i like reading everything. it's art. whether sad, or happy, or anything else.”
he noticed the shift in her tone and decided not to press further. instead, he changed the subject. “alright, my turn again. what’s something most people don’t know about you?”
she thought for a moment, a mischievous glint returning to her eyes. “i have a terrible sense of direction. like, really bad. if i didn’t have my phone, i’d probably get lost on my way home.”
he snorted. “good to know. i’ll make sure to never follow you if we’re lost.”
“rude,” she said, sticking her tongue out at him. “my turn. same question. what’s something most people don’t know about you?”
he hesitated, his gaze dropping to the ground. “well, most people don’t know that i’ve always wanted a pet, like a dog. a big one. like, a golden retriever or something.” he chuckled softly at the thought. “my friends say i resemble a dog. but can't put up with one. i guess it’s kind of random, but i don’t know. i’ve always imagined having a dog, like, after i’m out of school, you know? just someone to come home to, someone who’s always excited to see me.”
he paused, a small, almost wistful smile tugging at his lips. “but i never really had the chance to get one, with school and everything. plus, i’m always busy with baseball or music, and i feel like i’d end up neglecting it. so… it’s one of those things that kind of stayed on the back burner.”
she had been watching him intently, her gaze fixed on him for a moment longer than usual. he didn’t seem to notice, too caught up in his own thoughts.
“hmm,” she said, breaking the silence with a light laugh. “you’d be a good pup owner, i think. you seem like the type.”
he raised an eyebrow at her, the mischievous grin returning. “what’s that supposed to mean?”
she just shrugged, her lips curling into a smile. “nothing, just.. you’ve got this calm about you. i don’t know. you’d probably spoil it.”
his grin widened, but he didn’t reply right away. instead, he sat back and looked up at the sky, clearly lost in his own thoughts for a moment.
“i see it though.”
he raises an eyebrow.
“the resemblance of you, physically, and in another way, to a dog.” she spoke, her gaze tracing his features. “you might seem mysterious to a stranger, and me, sadly, but i get a feeling you're really happy and playful around people you're close with.”
“and as for physically, when you walk like this, your hair jumps and it actually looks like puppy ears. overall your face, especially with that wide smile that you try to avoid in front of me,” she laughed, “makes you seem more like a dog. playful. familiar. friendly.. and comforting.”
he stared at her, stunned into silence for a moment. her words had caught him completely off guard, and he wasn’t sure how to respond. finally, he let out a laugh—soft, genuine, and a little disbelieving.
“well, that’s… definitely not what i expected to hear today,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, a faint flush creeping up his cheeks. “i don’t know if i should be offended or flattered.”
“flattered,” she replied without missing a beat, a playful glint in her eyes. “dogs are great!”
“i can’t believe you just compared me to a dog. you’re really out here calling me mysterious and playful in the same sentence.”
“it’s true, though,” she insisted, crossing her arms with a smug grin. “i’m pretty good at reading people.”
“clearly,” he said, his tone teasing, though there was a warmth in his gaze as he looked at her. then, after a pause, he added, “you know, no one’s ever said anything like that about me before. it’s.. weirdly nice to hear.”
she tilted her head, her smile softening. “you’re welcome.”
he chuckled again, shaking his head. “alright, since you’re so good at reading people, what does that make you?”
her eyes lit up at the challenge, but she hesitated for a moment, her expression growing thoughtful. “hmm.. i guess you’ll just have to figure that out for yourself,” she said with a sly smile, leaving him to wonder as she walked further and quicker, the conversation still lingering between them.
they walked in comfortable silence for a moment, the sound of their footsteps echoing softly. the quiet of the town felt almost intimate, like they were the only two people in the world.
“where are we going?” he finally asked, watching as she spun around to face him briefly, walking backward with an impish grin.
“you’ll see,” she replied, her voice sing-song. “it’s a surprise.”
“i don’t like surprises,” he muttered, though there was no real bite to his words.
“well, you’ll like this one,” she countered, skipping ahead. “trust me.”
the library loomed ahead, its lights dimmed, the glass doors reflecting the moonlight. seungmin frowned. “wait. isn’t the library closed?”
“of course, it is,” she said casually, fishing a key out of her pocket. “but i work here, remember?”
“that doesn’t sound very legal, miss librarian.”
she laughed softly, “relax, mr. rule follower. felix closed up about half an hour ago, and i have permission to be here after hours. perks of the job.”
“okay,” she said, breaking the silence. “last question before we get there. what’s your happiest memory?”
he looked at her, caught off guard by the question. “happiest memory? that’s a tough one.”
“well, think about it,” she urged, her voice soft but insistent. “it doesn’t have to be big. just something that made you really happy.”
he thought for a moment, his gaze distant. “probably my first baseball game as a kid. my dad and grandpa took me. i remember the crowd, the excitement, the smell of popcorn. it was perfect.”
she smiled warmly. “that sounds amazing. thanks for sharing.”
he glanced at her, his expression unreadable. “what about you? what’s your happiest memory?”
she paused, her steps slowing. “probably… baking cookies with my mom when i was little. she’d let me lick the spoon, and we’d make such a mess, but it was always so much fun.”
her voice had taken on a wistful tone, and he found himself studying her face, the way her eyes softened with the memory.
“you’re really close to your mom, huh?” he asked gently.
“yeah,” she said softly, her smile bittersweet, as she didn't say more.
before he could say anything else, she stopped abruptly and turned to him with a grin. “we’re here.”
he looked up, realizing they had arrived at the library. the sight of it felt almost surreal in the quiet of the night.
“come on,” she said, pulling out her key and unlocking the door. “i’ve got something to show you.”
he followed her inside, the familiar scent of books and polished wood enveloping them. the quiet was even deeper now, the kind of silence that felt sacred. she flipped on a small desk lamp near the entrance, its warm glow casting long shadows across the shelves.
“you said you write and like literature, right? so what made you start writing in the first place?” seungmin asks her.
she paused mid-step as they walked through the library aisle, the soft glow of her phone flashlight illuminating the dust particles that floated lazily in the air. she turned her head to glance at seungmin, her expression thoughtful, as if the question had unlocked a memory she hadn’t revisited in a while.
“wow,” she said, breaking into a small smile, “that’s a deep question. you’re really pulling out the big guns tonight.”
seungmin leaned casually against the nearest bookshelf, crossing his arms with a faint smirk. “what can i say? i’m curious. you seem like the type who’d have a good story behind it.”
“flattery will get you nowhere,” she teased, sticking her tongue out at him. but then her expression softened as she considered his question more seriously. “i guess… it all started when i was little. mum loved stories. she’d always read to me before bed—fairy tales, myths, even poems sometimes. and she’d make up her own stories too, ones that no one else could tell like she did.”
seungmin nodded, his gaze steady on her as she spoke. he didn’t interrupt, sensing there was more to this than just bedtime stories.
“she had this way of making the ordinary feel magical,” she continued, her voice quieter now, as if she were speaking more to herself than to him. “when i was about seven, i remember her telling me that everyone has a story worth sharing. that stuck with me. writing became my way of… i don’t know, capturing moments, feelings, the things i was afraid i’d forget.”
there was a brief silence, the kind that felt heavy but not uncomfortable. seungmin tilted his head slightly, his voice softer than usual. “and you still feel that way. that everyone has a story.”
she turned to him fully, her lips curving into a small, sincere smile. “yeah, i do. even if someone thinks their life is boring or unimportant, there’s always something unique about how they see the world. i think that’s worth writing down.”
his expression shifted slightly, his usual neutral demeanor replaced with something warmer, more introspective. “that’s… a nice way to look at it.”
she chuckled lightly, breaking the intensity of the moment. “you sound surprised.”
“i’m not,” he said, shrugging one shoulder. “it just makes sense. it sounds like you.”
she blinked, taken aback for a second, before a faint flush crept up her cheeks. “well, thanks, i guess. so, mr. musician slash baseball guy, your turn. what made you pick up the guitar?” she said, still walking around the dark library, slowly, as he followed behind.
seungmin shifted his weight, suddenly looking a little sheepish. “honestly? i think it started because i wanted to impress someone.”
she raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. “oh? do tell.”
he let out a small laugh, shaking his head. “it’s not that exciting. back in middle school, i had this.. huge crush on someone. she played piano, and i thought maybe if i learned guitar, we could do some duet thing.”
she burst into laughter, the sound light and infectious. “that’s so cute! did it work?”
“not at all,” he admitted, his own laugh mingling with hers. “i was terrible back then. and she moved schools before i even got the courage to play in front of her.”
she grinned at him, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “well, at least you stuck with it. now you’re here, a brooding baseball player with a secret musical side. very intriguing.”
“brooding again?” he teased, narrowing his eyes at her playfully.
“hey, it’s your aesthetic,” she said with a mock-serious shrug. “don’t fight it.”
they both laughed, the sound echoing softly through the quiet library. after a moment, she nudged his arm. “but seriously, i think it’s cool that you play. even if you started for, uh, questionable reasons.”
“questionable?” he repeated, pretending to be offended.
“okay, fine, romantic reasons,” she corrected, grinning. “but you must’ve kept playing for more than just that, right?”
he hesitated, looking down at the worn wooden floor beneath them. “yeah. after a while, it stopped being about anyone else. i started to enjoy it for what it was. there’s something calming about it, you know? like it’s just you and the music.”
her smile softened, her voice gentle. “i get that. music has a way of making everything else disappear, even if it’s just for a little while.”
her back and his chest collided suddenly, when she paused her footsteps to look around. their eyes met briefly, and for a moment, the space between them felt charged with an unspoken understanding. then she cleared her throat, breaking the moment with a grin. “alright, enough with the deep talk. we’re here.”
she gestured to a row of shelves, her excitement bubbling up again. seungmin watched as she reached up, pulling down a few old, dusty books and placing them on a nearby table, after turning the lights on.
“these,” she said, running her fingers over the faded covers, “belonged to my mom. she loved music almost as much as she loved literature.”
he approached the table, his curiosity evident as he looked at the books. “why are you showing me this?”
“because,” she said, her tone soft but earnest, “you’re still learning, right? these might help. and i don’t know, it just felt right to share them with you.”
seungmin glanced at her, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his face. “bold of you to assume i'm gonna take something that belongs to someone who has more passion for music than i do.”
“bold of you to assume i'm letting you leave without it.”
she smiled, softly. “these books, seungmin, helped her a lot. now, it's no use to her because she's learnt all from them. so, giving this to you seems as the best option, especially when compared to letting them catch dust in these shelves.”
seungmin picked up one of the books, flipping through the yellowed pages. the notes in the margins and the slight creases on the edges gave it a sense of history. he hesitated, then glanced back at her. “you know, you make it sound like this is some kind of inheritance or something. like i’m supposed to treat this like a family heirloom.”
she chuckled lightly. “well, maybe it is, in a way. but if anyone’s going to appreciate it, i figured it’d be you.”
he tilted his head, giving her a curious look. “why me? there are probably a hundred other people who’d jump at the chance to take something like this. people who might actually deserve it.”
her gaze softened as she met his eyes. “because you care,” she said simply. “even if you try to hide it, i can see it. music means something to you. and i think that’s enough of a reason.”
he looked at her for a moment, the words sinking in. then, with a small smirk, he set the book back on the table. “you’re really good at guilt-tripping, you know that?”
“it’s not guilt-tripping!” she said, crossing her arms with a playful smile. “it’s… persuasion.”
seungmin let out a breath, shaking his head in amusement. “fine. but only if you let me return them when i’m done. deal?”
“deal,” she said, her smile widening. “but i don’t think you’ll want to give them back. just saying.”
he laughed, picking up the book again and tucking it under his arm. “you really don’t let people argue with you, do you?”
“not when i know i’m right,” she quipped, earning a small shake of his head and a smile as he started for the door.
“hey,” he softly reached out, “thank you.”
she turned to him, her grin returning. “you’re welcome. but you owe me now.”
he chuckled softly, shaking his head. “what do i owe you?”
“hmmm,” she pretended to think. “how about.. a song? once you learn something new from these books, you have to play it for me.”
his lips quirked up in a small, reluctant smile. “deal.”
seungmin carried the stack of books they’d borrowed from the library, his expression as neutral as ever, but there was an unmistakable warmth to his presence. she walked beside him, hands shoved into the pockets of her jacket, her usual smile tugging at the corners of her lips.
“thanks for helping me with the books,” she said, glancing sideways at him.
“no problem,” he replied casually. then, after a beat, he smirked. “i mean, it’s only fair since you’re sharing your mom’s secret stash with me.”
she chuckled, bumping her shoulder lightly against his. “it’s not really a ‘secret stash.’ it’s just stuff that mattered to her. stuff that matters to me.”
he looked at her, his gaze softer now. “that’s what makes it important.”
her steps faltered slightly, caught off guard by the sincerity in his voice. she recovered quickly, brushing it off with a small laugh. “look at you, mr. philosophical. spending time with me is really rubbing off on you, huh?”
“i think i deserve some credit,” he teased. “i was already pretty deep before.”
“sure,” she said with exaggerated skepticism. “if by ‘deep,’ you mean good at dodging questions about yourself.”
“i answer questions,” he defended, raising an eyebrow at her.
“uh-huh,” she shot back, grinning. “vague answers don’t count.”
their banter was interrupted by the sound of excited chatter. up ahead, near an open lot, a group of kids and a few elderly folks were gathered, their laughter mingling with the occasional crackle of fireworks. sparklers lit up the night, little bursts of light spinning in the hands of children as they ran around, their faces glowing with pure joy.
she slowed her pace, her eyes lighting up as she took in the scene. “oh, that looks so fun.”
“really?” seungmin asked, raising an eyebrow as he followed her gaze. “it’s just sparklers.”
“just sparklers?” she echoed, feigning offense. “excuse me, but sparklers are the most magical thing ever. you clearly don’t understand their charm.”
before he could respond, one of the kids noticed them and waved enthusiastically. “noona! hyung! do you want to play with us?”
her face broke into a wide grin. “of course! seungmin, come on!”
he hesitated, looking a little awkward. “i don’t think—”
“don’t think, just come,” she interrupted, grabbing his wrist and pulling him toward the group. he stumbled slightly but didn’t resist, letting her drag him along.
the kids and elders greeted them warmly, handing them sparklers and showing them where to place their books and bags safely away from the fireworks. y/n immediately lit her sparkler, holding it up and twirling it around with a delighted laugh.
“see?” she said, looking over at seungmin. “magic.”
he couldn’t help but smile at her, even as he reluctantly lit his own sparkler. “if you say so.”
“come on, you have to at least try to have fun,” she teased, stepping closer to him. “look, like this.” she moved her arm in a sweeping motion, drawing a glowing pattern in the air with her sparkler. “isn’t it pretty?”
he watched her, his sparkler momentarily forgotten in his hand. the orange-golden light reflected in her eyes, her face alight with joy. she looked so completely in her element, like the world around her had faded away, and she was just… glowing.
“you’re staring,” one of the elders said suddenly, catching him off guard. his tone was teasing, and his cheeks flushed as he was caught.
“a-ah sorry. i wasn’t,” he lied, quickly focusing on his sparkler. “i was just lost.. in thought!”
“you seem to have feelings for her, don't you?” the ahjussi asked.
“we're just friends.”
“that's what they all say, kid,” the ahjussi laughed, “and that's what i said when i met her, too.” he pointed towards a lady of the same age as him. “she was, is, and always will be everything to me.”
seungmin only glanced between them, gaze softening, and the moment being interrupted by y/n's voice.
“seungmin!” she called, giggling with the kids, “look! we fused all the colors of all the sparklers together and it made a rainbow!”
seungmin could only stare at her with a smile.
“good luck, kid.”
one of the kids ran up to them, holding out a small box of colorful sparklers. “noona, hyung! these ones make a big circle when you spin them really fast!”
y/n took one eagerly, thanking the child before lighting it and spinning it around. she let out a delighted laugh as it created a bright, shimmering circle in the air. “seungmin, try it!”
he took one reluctantly, lighting it and attempting the same motion. his first try was clumsy, earning a giggle from her.
“okay, that was terrible,” she said, stepping closer. “here, let me show you.”
before he could protest, she reached out, her hand brushing against his as she guided his arm. “like this,” she said, her voice softer now. the proximity between them suddenly felt charged, the air around them growing quieter despite the noise of the sparklers and laughter.
he followed her lead, their hands moving together in a smooth arc. the sparkler drew a perfect circle in the air, its light casting a warm glow over their faces.
“there,” she said, her smile bright and triumphant. “much better.”
“thanks to you,” he said, his voice quieter than usual.
their eyes met for a moment, the sparkler’s glow reflecting in both their gazes. it was one of those moments where time seemed to slow, the world around them fading into the background.
then, one of the kids yelled, “noona, hyung! look at this!” breaking the spell. she stepped back, laughing nervously as she turned to watch the child show off their new sparkler trick.
seungmin exhaled softly, a small smile tugging at his lips as he watched her. even in the chaos of sparklers and children’s laughter, she was like a beacon of light, drawing everyone—and him—toward her.
as the night wore on, they stayed with the group, laughing, playing, and creating memories under the starry sky. and though neither of them said it out loud, they both knew this evening would stay with them for a long, long time.
and maybe, just maybe, something shifted in the quiet corners of both their hearts that night.
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#𐔌 . yani's fics ! ୧#seungmin#seungmin imagines#skz seungmin#skz au#skz imagines#stray kids#skz fanfic#skz hurt/comfort#skz icons#skz ff#skz family#skz minho#skz oc#skz scenarios#skz writing#seungmin fanfic#seungmin oneshot#drabbles#oneshot#skzfluff#skzsmut#skzff#skz#skz x reader#skz fluff#skz smut#hwang hyunjin smut#hyunjin smut#seungmin x reader
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Hello, I'm back, with things I have noticed about Eragon that makes parts of the book very strange or funny or sad
Garrow's farm is TEN MILES OUT from Carvahall, which is already small. What the hell was he thinking??? It takes like 3.5 hours to walk that much???? And Eragon walks FURTHER THAN THAT to go hunting at 15???? Go behind you??
When hunting in the beginning, Eragon spends days just going for one doe. Which, all things considered, is not a lot of meat, especially for what's probably a 4 day hunt. For one person, it's unrealistic to carry more than that, but still.
Leading on from that, I'm led to believe that their family probably mostly ate bread and vegetables, and maybe cheese. No wonder he's pretty attached to meat.
Despite living so far away, Brom knows Eragon's knack for asking Too Many Questions, which implies this happens often.
How the hell does Brom make money? Storytelling??? There's only so much money that can get you in fifteen years, he's definitely got something on the side. He was a gardener in Morzan's estate for a while...
So far up north and isolated, Eragon DEFINITELY has a STRONG farmer's accent. Combined with his formal training with the elves, he probably has the weirdest way of talking, where it's both overly formal and casual at the same time.
Eragon is such a prodigy it's not even funny. By the time he meets Murtagh, he's a good enough swordsman after JUST A FEW MONTHS that they're literally equal. Murtagh has been doing that his WHOLE LIFE with a really good swordsman. Magic also comes pretty good to him, even if he's not always sensible with it. He learns to read well enough to read full books in a week.
Eragon and Roran are pretty similar with the dangerous stunts they pull, except Eragon's are usually with magic and Roran's are physical. They are both absurdly intelligent too, even if Eragon is known to act like a dolt sometimes. In his defence, he's stressed and like 15-17 years old. All things considered, he could be far worse.
Somehow, with his back ripped open and cursed, with his dragon crashing through the crystal ceiling which is raining on top of him, Eragon is able to not only remember to stab Durza in the heart (requiring turning around), but also shout an unnecessary spell.
Eragon probably could do magic before he bonded with Saphira. His mum wasn't a rider and had the "genes" for it, and his dad was a rider. It wouldn't be as strong, but maybe he's such a powerful spellcaster because he had some sort of baseline.
I bet that the first time Eragon wandered into the Spine, he was pretty young, and everyone kinda assumed him dead. He came out a week later with a bunch of rabbits or something
The fact that the Blood Oath Celebration made Eragon very pale implies that he's naturally the whitest boy ever and he just had a constant tan going (likely, because he's a farmer). This is just very funny to me, that in removing all injuries it took his tan.
Another point for absurdly powerful Eragon - the fact that his accidental curse had such an impact on Elva, to the point that it straight up affected her development. It wasn't even a spell! Or intentional!
I'm sorry, but Eragon casting empathy and that unintentionally killing the bad guy is so funny. He was SURRENDERING, but cut a bitch so deep that he imploded himself. Iconic.
Literally he is just so nice. Willing to run across the world, separated from Saphira, to support Orik in his campaign - when he totally could have given an excuse, or even just say the truth, which is that he's very much needed where he is. There's so many more examples, but he's just a good person.
I'm sorry, but Oramis was kinda a bitch for assigning the one hour of duelling in his training. Like, it flares up his seizures like crazy (which he ALSO SUFFERS FROM), AND he doesn't stand a chance against the elves in strength. I understand the point, but something had to give there. At the very least, reassign someone that won't actively torture him??
Adding onto that, we know that he's only able to succeed at the listening to the forest task after the transformation. I suspect that the mind is a sort of "sixth sense", and we know that elves have stronger senses; it's possible Eragon would have to have been bonded for a decent while for this to even be possible. I bet anything that human riders were usually trained by elder humans, and Oramis was struggling with a fledgeling human instead of an elf, as well as the time constraint.
Why the hell does Brom look so old? Yeah, he's old, but Galbatorix doesn't look that old? Is it something to do with his dragon being dead? The way I assumed it would be is that riders look like thirty for a verrrryyyy long time, no? Is it because Saphira died? Was he just going to perpetually age? Or does the beard age him?
Your cousin who feels like a brother goes missing, ran away, after your father's death. Soon you're leading everyone you've ever known to the rebellion in a desperate attempt to keep them safe and save the woman you love. Your cousin is wanted, even more than you are. He returns. He's different. Barely human anymore, hardly the boy you once knew. He's their last, and only hope. His war cry has been the same since he was six.
Now that I think about it, Garrow really is the odd one out in the family. His sister was the Black Hand, a highly dangerous assassin and magician. His son is Stronghammer, one of the deadliest soldiers in the country. His nephews are Eragon and Murtagh, both highly skilled swordsmen and magicians, riders, and both known as Kingkiller. Garrow is a farmer who can read.
Selena naming her son Eragon is soooo funny. "His dad - who is a secret! - is a rider, and Eragon was the first rider. It's so uncommon a name even among the elves that literally nobody will know this. My abusive husband and the evil king both know I hail from this place. He totally won't stick out in any way whatsoever!" Iconic, 10/10. It worked???
If any of these are inaccurate please remember I am going off my very deep-seated knowledge from reading the books so many times at a formative age. I haven't actually read them in years
#eragon#eragon shadeslayer#scrim rambles#inheritance cycle#the inheritance cycle#eldest#brisingr#inheritance
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