#so really no idea how i'm gonna work this out :')

[himbosandhardwear]

Steddie I No UD AU I SFW I Aged Up Characters I Fluff

I have no idea how many words this is, I banged it out right here in the Tumblr app. I was possessed by a demon, I think. Anyway! Behold! Baker!Eddie and Smitten!Steve for your viewing pleasure...

***

"Sir? Your drink."

Steve, startled back into the moment, blinks at the barista as she holds out his latte. He takes it from her, apologizes, and starts to walk away but...

"Sorry again, but, uh, is that Eddie Munson by any chance?"

She turns to look through the pass through window into the bakery. "Yeah. Why? You need him for something?"

"No!" He winces. "Sorry. No. I just haven't seen him in years. We went to high school together. I had no idea he worked here."

She smiles like she's placating him, 'fascinating' that smile says. "He's the owner, actually. His brownies are world famous."

"No shit? That's awesome. Good for him."

He doesn't get a response to that, so he leaves her alone to finish making other people's coffees.

What a weird coincidence, Steve moving to this neighborhood and finding...well, not an old friend exactly, but a fellow Hawkins High survivor.

***

Two days later, Steve is still thinking about Eddie. His goofy hairnet, the flour dusted up his arms, the adorable apron, decorated with skulls, of course. His smile. With the dimples and everything.

"Ugh."

He's gonna go back. Probably make a complete ass of himself.

"Ugh!"

Maybe he'll go just for another look. Eddie won't even notice he's there.

***

He doesn't get a chance to sneak in and out, Eddie himself greets Steve as soon as the bell goes off above the door.

"Steve Harrington is the mystery alumni?! Can't believe you saw my ugly mug and decided to come back. Wait..." He raises a suspicious eyebrow. "Are you stalking me?"

Steve sputters in horror, feeling caught out, but Eddie just laughs at him, throwing his head back, sending his already loose bun jiggling. Steve breaks into a nervous sweat.

"I'm just fucking with you, man. Come here, let me get a look at you."

Jesus Christ, why is this more nerve wracking than buying pot off the guy behind the school?

Because now you're aware of the reason why he flustered you in the first place, dumb ass.

He steps up to the display counter anyway, trying to be unobtrusive to the people in line. "Hey, Eddie. How are you?"

His smile could lure people into the fucking ocean. "Livin' the dream. You? What brings you to Chi Town?"

"Oh, I just moved in a couple doors down, actually. This neighborhood is great. Super friendly, great shopping, cool bakeries." He motions around them.

Eddie gives him an 'Aw shucks' wave. "You're just saying that because Lilly's salted caramel latte is to die for. You haven't even tried the other wares."

He glances down at the glass case. Normally he doesn't do sweets for breakfast but Eddie's 'wares' do look pretty good. "I hear your brownies are world famous."

His eyes light up, despite how cool about it he's trying to be. "I mean, we were featured on a British travel show... No biggie."

"That's really cool, man. Congratulations."

He casually wipes at the counter with a tea towel, the epitome of nonchalant. "Thanks. You wanna try one?"

"Sure." He glances at the selection but there are so many and they all look good. "Recommend anything in particular?"

Eddie bounces on his toes for a second before whirling around and rushing off to the back. His hair is pinned up in that bun but Steve remembers how it used to trail behind him when he moved, as though working with Looney Toons physics.

When he reappears, he's got a wax paper bundle clutched between two hands. "Voila! Salty Turtle Dog."

"Salty Turtle Dog?" Steve confirms, moving to take the thing from Eddie's presenting hands.

At the last second he pulls back. "You're not allergic to nuts, are you?"

There's a joke there but he's not ready to make it. "Not so far, no."

"Cool." He allows Steve to finally take it from him.

The unwrapped package is still steaming warm. It's been a really long time since he's had a fresh out of the oven brownie. He pinches a bite off with his fingers and pops it into his mouth.

"Oh my god," he groans, head rolled back in pleasure. It's like crispy, gooey, salty, caramel heaven. "What the fuck did you put in this?"

"Blood of a virgin. And walnuts."

"I'll take the whole pan." He shoves another bite into his mouth before he looks up to see Eddie watching him, a pleasant smile upon his face and a bit of color on his cheeks. Embarrassment rolls through him as he realizes he's been moaning like a cat in heat for the last half minute. He rushes to save some sort of face. "It's good. Really good."

"Thanks." He calls out to the new girl making coffee orders, getting Steve another latte. "The secret ingredient is actually the flakey salt on top."

He looks down and sure enough, flakey salt on top. "Neat."

"You working nearby? I'm not usually in during the lunch rush but you could always stop by. We do sandwiches for the lunch menu."

"Nah, I'm Uptown. About fifteen stops." Unfortunately, he thinks, desperately wanting another excuse to stop by. He'd already checked, they close at 3pm. He doesn't get off till 5.

Eddie nods, wiping at the counter again, though it's not dirty. "Doing what?" He looks Steve up and down, noting the button up shirt and khaki pants.

Steve cannot tell Eddie Munson he does data entry, he'll never want to talk to him again. "Uh, boring office shit. Tell me about this," he waves around the bakery, "how did you get into it? Baking."

That makes him laugh. "By accident. You remember my...side gig?"

"Of course." The first time he had to buy directly from Eddie, after he and Tommy parted ways, Steve nearly chickened out, he was so scared of Eddie.

Turns out fear wasn't exactly the thing churning in his gut.

"Well, I got curious one night, thought I might try my hand at edibles. Sounded like a safer option to be transporting around school, ya know? I started small, chocolate chip cookies, but eventually I started branching out, brownies, cake, whatever. And they were a huge hit. My friends actually loved it so much we made the classic mistake of eating too many in one sitting. I'm talkin' like a whole pan in an hour-"

Steve winces in sympathy.

"Yeah. Long story short, I met the devil that night and he pointed out to me that I could, in fact, make baked goods without the weed. Ya know, brownies for eating purposes."

Steve giggles against his will. "Helpful."

"Right? And now here I am, ten years later, averaging four hours of sleep a day, but really, truly livin' the dream."

"That's really cool." Steve has always been attracted to people who have passion. Probably because he hasn't been passionate about anything in his entire life. "You should really try to work on your sleep schedule though. I learned that the hard way during school."

"I'd love to but it's impossible. I'm too much of a night owl to sleep at night and I have to be here at 4am, so I'm usually crashing out after work and sleeping till 2 or 3pm."

"Aww, that sucks. If we lived together, we'd never go to bed at the same time."

It occurs almost immediately that that's an insane thing to say to a virtual stranger. Eddie is frozen solid behind the counter, eyes taking up forty percent of his face, silent as the grave.

Steve turns tail and marches right out of the shop.

***

He swears an oath to never return to Eddie's shop, on pain of death, but then he remembers he left half his brownie sitting on the counter and left his latte too. Without paying! The embarrassment is overshadowed by the guilt, so much so that when Saturday morning rolls around he finds himself standing outside on the sidewalk, waiting until he gets confirmation that Eddie is there to go in.

He is, passing back and forth across the kitchen window behind the counter, bobbing his head wildly to some unheard music.

Steve desperately wants to get to know this version of Eddie, so similar but so different to his high school self. Maybe he'll forgive Steve for being such a weirdo and they can be friends. Eddie doesn't seem the type to hold a social faux pas against a guy. He once made a giant dick out of paper mache in Advanced Art. They made him destroy it before Steve got a look but he heard all about it. Five feet tall, they said. Veiny, they said.

He shakes the thought away and steels his spine. Now or never.

The bell dings above his head. He waits. Nothing dire happens. Eddie doesn't leap out from the kitchen, pointing a finger and screaming 'Creep!' Not that Steve thought he would... But you never knew.

"Hello. What can I get for you?" The barista greets, pleasant but by rote.

"Umm. Salted caramel latte? Medium. And, uh, whatever brownie Eddie recommends."

She gives him a look, confused, before something clicks. "Ohhh." She then turns and shouts, "Eddie, your guy is here!"

Steve goes to correct that horrific statement but the loud clattering of a metal bowl hitting the floor cuts him off. Eddie swears, loudly, before his head pops around the pass through.

"I didn't say that," he frantically tells Steve, "she said that. Not me. Dana! Don't say shit like that."

"What? I thought you said-"

"If you finish that sentence, his order comes out of your paycheck."

She scowls. "Whatever." Her scowl doesn't lessen when she turns back to him. "Was that all?"

Steve glances up at Eddie in the window. "Brownie?" He asks, articulately.

"Get him a Valencia." He turns back to the kitchen, only to pop up again a second later, sans hairnet, and ask, "You got five minutes?"

Steve will hang out all day if Eddie asks, but he can't say that. "Sure. I'll be over there." He points towards the window seats.

"Cool. Be right back."

Steve pays and takes his latte and his not fresh out of the oven brownie and moves to the aforementioned table. It's after the morning rush so there are only a few other people scattered around. The closest person is a student doing homework, and thankfully has headphones on. He's pretty sure whatever conversation Eddie wants to have is going to be embarrassing.

His hours old Valencia brownie is still to die for, tangy this time but soft as hell. If Eddie lets him come back he's gonna get as big as a house.

He's halfway through his breakfast when Eddie flops down across from him. He's lost the apron this time too, looking sexy as hell in just a regular black t-shirt and jeans. Still every inch a rockstar even if he's not shredding a guitar. And he's got a little smudge of batter across one cheek... God...

"Hi. Thanks for sticking around."

"No problem. I'm off today."

"Right. Saturday."

"Right."

They stare at each other, painfully awkward, until they both make it worse by trying to speak at the same time.

"I'm sorry about-"

"What did you mean-"

"Oh, sorry."

"No, I'm sorry. You go."

"No, you, seriously."

Steve slaps both hands over his face and whisper shouts until he feels like he's not gonna run out the door again.

"You know what?" Eddie quips. "It's not important right now. How's the brownie?"

He's so sweet. God dammit.

"Really good. Is it orange? Is that what the crunchy bits are?"

"Yeah, candied orange. How's the latte?"

He hesitates a second too long and Eddie cracks a laugh.

"Yeah, that's what I thought. You can't fire someone for being straight but I swear they can't work a milk steamer for shit. I can't prove it yet but I know it's true."

Holy shit, the implications of that... There were rumors about Eddie in school, of course, but you had to take everything said about him with a grain of salt. Just because he's implying that he's queer doesn't mean he's single or that he's open to dating Steve in particular. He decides to focus on the other implication.

"So Lilly is queer? Is she single? I've got a lesbian I desperately need to get laid."

Eddie snorts. "Oh yeah? Wait a minute. Buckley? Holy shit, you still talk to her?"

"Talk to her? I just left her on the couch eating an entire sleeve of my Oreos." He sips his mediocre latte and grunts in annoyance. "If she doesn't get over Penelope soon I'm gonna stage an intervention."

"Oh no..." Eddie makes a face.

"What?

"Penelope Williams? Works at the stationary shop on Ashford?"

What the hell? "Yeah? How did you know?"

"Lilly is on her second date with her tonight." He winces even harder, as if it's somehow all his fault.

Steve just laughs. "Why does every lesbian in a five hundred mile radius know each other?"

"Witchcraft, probably. Ouija boards?"

He pops the last of his brownie into his mouth and nods. It's as valid a reason as anything else. He decides to keep the news of Penelope moving on already to himself. Rob just stopped sobbing into his neck three days ago, and he's been waiting on her to feel better before he tells her about Eddie.

"You think if I had Rob come over and put the moves on Dana, she'd make a better latte?"

Eddie cackles. "Couldn't hurt to try."

They smile at each other. It doesn't feel weird, it feels nice, like they can do this, be friendly. Or it would've been if Eddie didn't open his mouth and blurt out, "Did you mean what you said the other day?"

Steve throws his head back and groans. When he looks back, Eddie is waiting patiently for a response. "I'm sorry, okay? Sometimes my brain to mouth filter is busted."

"No, it's cool." He waves Steve's explanation like it's nothing. "I meant, like, was that meant to sound like...what it sounded like?"

Steve cocks his head. He's not sure how else what he said could be interpreted. Like, did Eddie think he was obsessed with sharing a bedtime with Robin too?

He catches Steve's confusion, leans in and whispers, "I just didn't think that was...an option for you..."

"Ohhh," he drawls. Right. "Yeah. Uh," he looks around to make sure no one is listening in, "I'm open to all kinds of...options."

He watches as Eddie processes this, does a frankly upsetting amount of lip licking, and then looks up from between his lashes. "And the thing your brain didn't filter was me being one of those options?"

Fuck. It was embarrassing right up until this exact moment, Eddie looking at him like that. He feels his throat constrict as he tries to swallow.

"Is that okay?" He whispers.

They're leaning really fucking close together - Eddie smells like cinnamon and Camels - so whispering to stay inconspicuous is stupid at this point. Neither of them seem to care.

"Steve Harrington," Eddie draws his name out long and meaningful, as though that's answer enough. Steve supposes it is, coupled with the look he's sharing.

"Five minutes ago."

"What time do you get off?" Eddie practically twinkles at him. Steve groans. "Oh my god, what time do you get off work?"

"Oh." Steve chugs the dregs of his adequate latte. "You wanna get out of here?"

"Not to your place if Robin is still on the couch."

Steve blushes from top to bottom. God dammit, he used to be slutty, why is this so hard? "Right. Your place?"

"All clear." He flashes Steve a grin, full and tempting. Like Steve isn't a sure thing.

They scramble out of their seats and head for the door. At the last second, Steve stops.

"Wait, I almost forgot." He grabs his wallet and starts fishing out a ten. "I forgot to pay last time."

"Keep your money."

He looks up. "What?"

"I wasn't gonna charge for that stuff anyway."

"Okay... But...Why?"

He shuffles in place, all sheepish for some reason. "I kinda over-charged you for the weed. Every time you paid. For years."

Steve is so gone on him already, he just finds that charming.

***

Later that night, while Eddie is asleep, Steve slips the ten under his pillow.

It'll become a back and forth in-joke they share for years.

saw this on instagram (yes, instagram) and i can’t stop thinking about steve recognising eddie at a bakery and immediately falling in love with the guy he kinda had a thing for in high school but never allowed himself to think about too much. like, he’s always had eddie in the back of his mind since finishing school but suddenly seeing him has him all heart eyes and also kind of surprised with what eddie ended up doing with his life. idk, you can think about the statistics, i’m not a writer (please someone write something and tag me 🙏) but THIS will be in my head all day at work

[kallietell]

POV: Your Feeder Forces You to Admit How Fat You're Getting

Hey babe, are you almost ready to go? We’re about to be…oh shit. Oh my god.

What do we have here?

Look at you. Just look at yourself. Poor little fat girl thought she could squeeze into the clothes that fit her before she became such a greedy, insatiable glutton. Before she finally gave in to those sick secret desires she always had and started letting herself indulge. You promised it was just a little bit, but this doesn't look like a little bit. This looks like a pile of lard who still thinks she can cram her bulging rolls into jeans that stopped fitting 40 pounds ago. 

Did you actually think those jeans would fit? I mean, look at the way you’re jiggling just trying to work them up your thighs, did you actually think there was a chance they'd button over all that gut? That swollen, wobbling, overfed gut. You’re getting so fat. All your greed is so obvious, all over your body. It's always obvious. How much bigger you’re getting, how tight your clothes are, how much you eat every day. You just eat and eat and eat until you’re gonna pop, don’t you? But you think you can hide it. You think you can cover it all up with those too-small clothes that are straining to keep all that lard at bay. 

Have you noticed that? Have you noticed how you still dress like you can hide what you are? You can't hide, piggy. Not from me, and not from anyone. And you especially can't hide behind clothes this small. 

Let me see, stand up. 

You fat pig. 

Look at the way your love handles bulge over the waistband of your panties. Those panties are so tight too, there's really nothing you own that fits you, huh? 

No? 

You disagree? How can you disagree when I'm standing in front of you watching you get out of breath just from trying to get your jeans on. Look at how much your body jiggles with each movement. I can't believe you actually let yourself go like this. I can't believe you let your desires turn you into a silly, mindless little farm animal getting fattened up for the slaughter.

I may have introduced you to all this, but I didn't do this to you. I just wanted you a little chubby. You’re the one that stuffed her face like a greedy hippo every day until you’re fat enough to crack a chair. Fat enough to blow out the seams of whatever you’re trying to force over all that swollen blubber. 

No, no, don't stop trying to get those pants up. I wanna watch the show. The spectacle. 

That's what you’ve turned yourself into, huh baby? A spectacle. A fatty, swollen mess that’s too big to fly under the radar. A sideshow freak that nobody can look away from. People are amazed. Horrified too, but genuinely amazed. How you made yourself so fat so quickly, how you could possibly think waddling outside in clothes a few pounds away from ripping off your body was a good idea. 

You know what the funny thing is? They think you know just how far gone you are. They think you know how fat you’ve made yourself. They assume there's no way you could be oblivious to just how wide you’ve gotten, just how far that belly protrudes out and how much that lower roll jiggles as it pokes out of the bottom on your t-shirts. 

You used to dress so cute before all this. You were always in those adorable tights with the designs and those little shorts skirts, you had an actual sense of style. Now you just squeeze your growing body into whatever mismatched sweatpants and t-shirts can actually accommodate all the weight you’ve put on. It's like you’ve completely given up on living a normal life and instead dedicated yourself fully to blowing up into an unrecognizable pig. That's what everyone thinks anyway. And you’re just the naive, dumb little thing who thinks her lackluster disguise is still working. Who thinks that no one can see just how tight everything is getting, who thinks no one notices when she has to unbutton her pants after shoving her face full in public. 

You’re in denial. 

You’re in denial about how fat you got. How can you be in denial when I know you feel all that heavy blubber hanging off your body every day? How can you be in denial when you eat triple the amount you used to? When you get stares every time you’re in a restaurant because of how much of a pig you’ve made of yourself? How can you be in denial when you can’t even see your toes anymore? When you have to suck in that flabby, wobbling mound of a belly and lay on your back just to have a chance of fitting into a pair of jeans?

It's almost funny. How much of a food-addicted pig do you have to be for your denial to outweigh your fat ass? 

No no, don't sit down. Keep struggling and jiggling for me, keep trying. 

I know you’re tired. But this is your consequence. 

This is what you deserve for eating yourself into the size of a fucking house. You porky pig. I bet you’re hungry right now, huh? I bet you’re thinking about stuffing your face even while I tease you for getting so big. I bet you’re thinking about what you’re gonna eat when this is all over. 

What? 

Did I hit a nerve? Am I right? Does all of this just make you wanna eat and eat and eat until you can't move? 

Of course it does. Everything does. 

All that denial isn't good for you. It's just gonna make you get bigger. And like I said, nobody knows that you’re refusing to acknowledge how much weight you’ve put on. Nobody knows that you still see yourself as a thin, fit girl, that you actually think the clothes you force onto your overfed body fit you well enough to get by. They think you’re a greedy, sloppy fatass who can't control herself. They think you’re just a gluttonous pig that can't stop putting it away, that you’re more concerned with your next meal than your health. And they're not wrong. 

Are they? 

Don’t just nod, say it out loud. Say they aren't wrong. Say you’ve become a greedy pig too dumb to think about anything but her next meal. 

You don't wanna say it? 

But baby, I can see it. I see it all over you, I see it whenever you waddle into a room. You’re getting so heavy. Those thighs are getting so thick and swollen and your arms just keep getting flabbier, it's like every part of your body has been inflated with lard. That belly pushes out further and further every day and you just let it. You don't even try anymore, all you ever do is eat. 

I wanna get you on the scale. I wanna see how hot and red your face gets when I force you to push all that belly back with your tubby little hands and read the number out loud. Denial will get pretty tricky then, won’t it? It won't be so easy to pretend that you’re just bloated or that you’ve just put on a few. It won’t be so easy to avoid looking into the mirror to see the way your waistband digs into your rolls of fat and leaves angry red lines across your spherical gut. 

It won’t be so easy to keep eating until you can’t breathe every night when you actually have to admit what you’ve done to yourself. 

Nice try, love. It is what you’ve done. Trying to blame me for the fact that you’ve blimped yourself into a pile of blubber waddling around in clothes so tight you look like a stuffed sausage doesn’t change the facts. I may have started this, but you’re the one who can’t stop. You’re the one who eats until they can’t get off the couch every night, you're the one who took every feeding and stuffing further than I did. You’re the one who was secretly stuffing your face night after night when I went to sleep. 

Yea. 

I bet you thought I didn't know about that. 

I bet you thought you were actually doing a good job of hiding what a whale you were becoming. 

You’d come back to bed at three in the morning with a gut so bloated you couldn't help but moan, and you think I had no idea? Every night I could hear you gorging yourself and burping non stop. Just smacking and slapping that gut to force out burp after burp just so you can have enough room to shove down more takeout. 

I watched you a couple times, you know. You’re so loud I could already hear the whole thing, so I thought, why not? You would've been so humiliated to know how much of a pig you made of yourself. I know you eat nonstop, but when you’re in front of people you have at least a hint of decorum, a modicum of adherence to table manners. You stuff your face, but at least you’re a normal human being. Not when you’re alone. When you’re alone, you turn into a literal pig. A porky little pig feasting on slop. 

You’re the fattest piggy on the farm, aren't you? 

Aren't you baby? 

Say it. Tell me what a fat piggy you are. 

That's right. 

Watching you was almost kinda disturbing. You were completely insatiable. It was like you were in a trance, just cramming more and more food down your throat by the fistful. You’ve turned into an addict. 

We're gonna have to sign you up for Overeaters Anonymous, won’t we? After we get you some more clothes. That would be fun. Making you stand up in front of everyone and admit how quickly you got so big. Making you recount all your meals for the previous day with the calorie counts included so everyone can know that you’re at least a pound fatter than you were the day before. 

Even in a room of piggies so fat they need rehab, you’d still be the biggest, jiggliest, greediest piggy there. You’d make the other fatties feel better about themselves. They’d think.......

*I hope you enjoyed this snippet of my latest weight gain POV! For the full 3,000 word story or the full audio version of this story you can check out my Patreon! I have a ton of tiers for whatever you may be looking for, and you can find weight gain stories, weight gain series, weight gain POVs, weight gain audios, personalized weight gain commissions, and more:) Thanks so much for reading!!*

patreon.com/KallieTell

[nick-writes-stuff]

20 Questions

Hwang In-ho x gn!reader

summary: You and Young-il made a quick but strong connection during the games, both being observant and quick-witted. He was fascinated by your shift from selflessness to self-preservation after the attempted uprising. When you make it out of the games, In-ho invites you to play one last game with him, and how could you resist?

!warnings: mentions of canon-typical violence, manipulation/lying to an extent, swearing

a/n: I'M SO EXCITED FOR THIS ONE! i'm working on another in-ho one after this. it's gonna be a follow-up to the one-sided reunion!! hope you enjoy <3

While in the games, you were quickly inspired by Gi-hun's plans to try to save everyone. You tried to help as many people as you could, and when you weren't helping, you were observing.

In-ho quickly took notice of your curiosity. You could be looking around the room but still be able to hold a conversation with one of your allies. He watched your face scrunch up in confusion after he predicted the next number in Mingle. The others were convinced with his explanation, but you were still hung up on it, and he could tell.

You and Young-il really hit it off. You both were practically attached at the hip. While others kept watch in near silence, you both talked in hushed whispers the whole time. You wanted to know everything about him. You really liked him. He would always do nice things for you, like offering you his milk before asking anyone else or sticking up for you when anyone slighted you. While you were with him, it made this place seem less like hell.

When they were asking for volunteers for the uprising, he had expected you to volunteer quickly, but you didn't. You stood quietly near Geum-ja and her son, trying to avert your gaze. You just had a bad feeling about this. And you were right, seeing as only Dae-ho and Hyun-ju would make it back alive.

Hearing the words “Player 1, eliminated” shook you to your core. You went quiet after that, hardly talking to anyone even as Jun-hee tried to comfort you.

After the mutiny, the games continued, and they were even more horrific. Not only were you socially distant, but you no longer had your selfless nature either. You wanted out of the games, but if the Os were gonna keep you in here, then you were willing to do what you needed to do. You didn't want them to ruin your life, but the decisions you made would certainly haunt you. By that point, there were only seven of you left. You, Jun-hee, Hyun-ju, Dae-ho, Player 7, Thanos's promoter, and another O who you didn't know. Even though there were 2 Os, it was a unanimous vote. Their greed was sated with the 6.41 billion won they got to walk away with. The idea that any of you got to take the cash was sickening, but especially those two.

You didn't know what would happen once you voted to leave. Gi-hun hadn't mentioned what happened after he won. Part of you thought you would be killed immediately. But you weren't. You were all led into the room behind the rolling door. Then you heard a hiss as the tranquilizer gas flooded the room.

-

You expected to wake up somewhere in Seoul. Maybe in the van that you got into to travel to the games in the first place. But you woke up in a rather comfortable armchair in a small but luxurious apartment.

You looked around, trying to get a sense of what kind of place you were in. There was a small model of a jazz club, a rotary phone, and a couch facing several large monitors.

“I was wondering how long you'd be out for.”

You froze for a moment. You didn't even need to turn around to know who it was. Well, did you really know him? You did turn around and met his gaze. He was undeniably Young-il, but he had been able to clean himself up since you saw him last. He was clean-shaven, and his hair was slicked back with gel. He was in all black like he was about to go to the funeral for the 448 other players who died. It was difficult, but you tried not to admire his new appearance.

The fact that he was still alive and seemingly in a position of power in the games was frightening. He was lying to all of you the whole time, concealing his true identity. Was anything he said to you real? Was it all manipulation like everything else? Your heart ached when you realized he was probably playing you just like he was everyone else.

“Why am I here?” You asked. Your face and tone were neutral. You concealed the spiral your thoughts were going down.

He sat down across from you, holding a glass of alcohol in his hand. “I was hoping we could play a game.” He said.

You narrowed your eyes at him suspiciously.

He smirked at your reaction. You tried to ignore the butterflies in your stomach. “Humor me?” He asked.

You weren't entirely certain about this. He probably wasn't going to kill you. He could have done that already. But you figured there had to be some kind of catch. “What game?” You asked.

“20 questions.” He said.

This confused you more. “Like the icebreaker game?”

He nodded. “I ask you 10 questions and you ask me 10 questions. And we have to answer honestly.” He said.

“Are you just using this as an excuse to talk to me?” You asked. He seemed somewhat shocked at your question. “Why does everything need to be games with you people?” You asked. You wanted to remain neutral, but your face betrayed you as your lips curled into a smirk.

He laughed. That was probably the first time he had laughed since before the bathroom brawl in the games. “You know, it is kind of our thing here.” He quipped.

“What's the catch?” You asked. There had to be an ulterior motive behind this, right? It seemed like everything he did had an ulterior motive.

He chuckled. “We both get what we want. You get answers. I get insight.”

“Why is my insight so important to you?” You asked. Your tone was genuine. Gi-hun had never mentioned anything like this happening when he won the games. This was clearly a special occasion here.

“You impressed me. You are clever and analytical, but you still have a selfless and heroic nature. Not many players have both. Watching you play was fascinating.” He said. His tone was also genuine. You felt your cheeks heat up, blushing due to the praise.

You should hate him. He orchestrated the horrific death games you just took part in, and he's likely responsible for the deaths of thousands of other struggling people. He killed your friends. He had only lied and deceived and manipulated you. So how could you possibly want to talk to him? Why did you feel giddy at the fact you impressed him?

You gave a soft smile. “Okay.” You agreed.

He smiled as well. “Since you're my guest, I think you should go first.” He offered.

“What's your name?” You asked quickly. You chuckled, “Because we both know it's not Young-il.”

He laughed. “Yeah, that wasn't my strongest cover. My name is In-ho.”

You repeated him, testing out his true name. He loved hearing it in your voice.

“Now that we're on a first name basis,” He started, that line getting a chuckle from you. “Which game would you say was your favorite?

You answered instinctively with “Six-legged pentathlon” without even thinking of how messed up that question was. People died in that game. That experience should have been traumatic, but you considered it your favorite?

He only nodded in response. You didn't know if that was a good or a bad thing. “Have you ever played in the games before this time?” You asked him.

He smirked. “Yeah I have. I won back in 2018. What made you think that?” He asked.

“Is that your next question?” You asked cheekily. A mischievous grin plastered your face.

He rolled his eyes. “Is that your next question?” He repeated with a slight glare, but you could easily tell he was messing with you.

“Three reasons. One: You were just really calm and unphased by everything. Two: You beat the shit out of Thanos easily. Three: You killed that man during Mingle, and you just had a look in your eye. Like it wasn't the first time you were forced into that situation.” You explained.

He hummed in acknowledgement. “Astute observations.” He mused before continuing. “Why do you think I rejoined the games?”

You thought for a moment. “I feel like watching Gi-hun was the main reason, but you kind of always seemed like you were just pushing his buttons. It's like you were testing him almost.” You said, trailing a bit at the end as you tried to figure out how you wanted to phrase it.

He didn't respond. You took that as a sign to continue on with the game.

You sighed. “Why did you join the games?” You asked. You made a face like you were thinking before clarifying, “Like back in 2018, I mean.”

He frowned slightly. You thought you asked a question you shouldn't have, but he was only reacting to the memory he was recalling.

“Before I joined, I was married with a kid on the way. But I got laid off from my job, and my wife got really sick and… treatments were expensive. I racked up debt quickly, and soon, I got a business card.” He said.

You sighed. “That sounds awful. I'm so sorry. Is she okay?” You said softly. You shouldn't feel sympathy for him. You could see his jaw clench slightly as he took a sip of his drink.

He decided not to mention that it was his turn to ask a question. He shook his head. “No. After I won, I rushed to the hospital and… they were both gone.” He said, voice notably quieter. He took a swig of the drink. He wasn't mad. He was just bitter, and he didn't like to think of her often. You felt bad for even asking in the first place. You should have known better than to ask that. Before you could apologize for overstepping with a personal question, he dished one to you as well.

“Which player did you trust the most?” He said. He already knew the answer. He just wanted to hear it from you.

You swallowed hard, eyes moving to watch you fidgeting with your fingers. “You.” You looked up to see him smirking at your answer. For some reason, that smirk really ate at you. He's so happy that his deceit and manipulation paid off, isn't he?

He was just glad the feeling he felt was mutual.

You didn't try to elaborate or explain. You just kept going. Maybe the tension would let up after a bit.

“How did you become the… what did Gi-hun call it?” You asked, failing to remember the exact words.

“The Front Man?” He offered.

You nodded, “Yeah, that's the word. How did you get the job as the Front Man?”

“It wasn't unlike joining the games. One day, I got a business card telling me to go to a specific location. There I met the Host and we talked. He was impressed by my performance in the games, and he said I had potential. I was still angry at the world for everything, and I said yes.” He said. He didn't delve into it deeper because he knew the specifics wouldn't make him sound great. Maybe it was wrong to spin the truth, but there was no way you could figure out it's a lie.

“A follow-up to my last question: who in our alliance did you trust the least?” He asked. This was the first question that was a leading one. He wanted to see if you had any distrust in your team even though you seemed you would have taken a bullet for them.

You took a deep breath. “If I'm being honest-”

“The rules require honesty.” He said, smirking.

You glared at him with little malice. “It's a turn of phrase.” You said shortly. “As I was saying…”

“I never really knew how I felt about Gi-hun.” You said.

He hid his reaction, but internally, he had a shit-eating grin. It was almost like the end of a rivalry. Gi-hun's method didn't work. He was able to gain your trust, and the man who thought he could convince everyone to play the game fairly. It wasn't as black and white as Gi-hun had thought.

You grimaced at your statement, making a noise like you weren't sure. You felt bad talking bad about him when he was trying his best to help everyone around him. “I mean, I just felt like he knew too much, and he was holding out on us. Like at some point, he wouldn't warn us of danger just so he could get ahead.” You said. You didn't think that made you feel any better about saying that, but then you thought of something else.

“Wait, what happened to him? And Jung-bae, too. We never saw them get eliminated.” You asked.

He raised the glass to his lips. You were starting to think he took a drink anytime he didn't want to answer a question.

“Jung-bae died in the mutiny, and Gi-hun is as good as dead. The VIPs have plans for him.” He said tensely. His choice of words only left you with many more questions, but you didn't have the chance to ask any of them.

“Do you regret anything you did to win in the games?” His face was neutral, and it put you on edge for some reason.

You took a deep breath before meeting his gaze. You shook your head. You did things in the games that you would never admit to another person, but that doesn't mean you regretted it. “I did what I had to.” You said quietly.

He nodded. “I understand the feeling.” He said, tone just as soft as the nights spent on watch with him. Your heart fluttered at the sound.

You continued the game after a moment. “Was the mutiny something you planned?” You asked.

“We knew Gi-hun would try something, so we made a procedure. But we didn't make it happen ourselves.” He said. That was true. He knew Gi-hun had the mindset to try to take them down. He tracked the Recruiter for 3 years until he managed to find him and kill him. The takeover was also always intended to be when Young-il was eliminated, no matter how soon it happened.

“Speaking of Gi-hun, you seemed to think the same way he did toward the beginning of the games, but something eventually shifted in you. I noticed that after you thanked me for killing that man during Mingle. What started that shift in your thinking?” He asked. He was very interested in your answer to this question.

“I just wanted to get out. Gi-hun tried to make that happen, but in the end it didn't work.” You said. You began fidgeting with your fingers, afraid to look him in the eye. You hated the fact that you were willing to do the things that you did, but you would do that again in a heartbeat because you're safe now. “After the mutiny when we voted and the Xs still lost, something broke in me. If they weren't going to let us leave, then I needed to take matters into my own hands.” You murmured. You wiped a stray tear from your cheek as covertly as you could.

He hated seeing you cry. He wished he could take back the question, but that's not possible. He decided to try to break the tension and give the conversation time to breathe. “I just realized that I never asked. Is there anything I can get you?” He asked. His eyes were full of concern.

You cleared your throat before speaking. “Some water would be nice.” You said softly.

As he stood up to retrieve it, you started taking deep breaths to try to regain your composure. You looked around the room, and your eyes landed on the model of a jazz club. The musician figures looked to be small animatronics. You didn't even hear him reenter the room.

“It's a music box.” He said. You jumped a bit at his voice. He chuckled at your reaction. You smiled sheepishly. He took a step toward you, holding out a water bottle to you. You took it from him with a soft, “Thank you.”

He sat down at his chair as you took a sip of the drink. You didn't realize how thirsty you were.

“I believe it's your turn to ask a question.” He said.

You spoke as you twisted the cap onto the bottle. “Were you actually in danger while you were playing the games?”

He thought about it for a moment. “We planned for mostly everything in the games themselves, but if something had happened in the dorms, I couldn't do much about it.” He said.

You nodded. “I thought so. You weren't even in Red Light Green Light.” You said.

He was genuinely surprised by the fact you realized. “I didn't think anyone would have noticed that.”

You laughed. “I was trying to observe as much as possible at the beginning, and I definitely would have noticed you.” You said it without thinking but then realized what your words meant. Your cheeks flushed, and in a desperate attempt to break eye contact, you took a drink from your water.

In-ho was growing concerned about the feeling inside his stomach. He would have pegged it as a somatic symptom if it wasn't in this situation. Were there butterflies in his stomach? After you implied you found him attractive? He wasn't used to this feeling. It had been years since he experienced this. It reminded him of meeting his wife, but this felt even more exhilarating. He had thought he'd never feel it again, so getting to encounter this long forgotten feeling amplified it tenfold.

The quiet and intimate tension was getting to be too much for you, so you tried to change the subject. “You never told me. What song does the music box play?”

He cleared his throat. “Um, it's Fly Me to the Moon.” He said, trying desperately to keep his voice from wavering.

“Like the Sinatra song?” You asked.

He nodded. “I can turn it on if you want to hear it.” He offered.

“No, it's okay.” You said. You looked over to the music box before back at him. “I don't want to delay the game, you know.” You murmured, hoping it would get you both back on track.

You wanted to be distracted from the fact you feared he was messing with your feelings even now.

He nodded. “Yeah, of course.” He murmured. “What is this? Question 14 now?” He asked. You nodded.

Neither of you would say it, but you both wished you had decided on a higher number.

“What do you have planned when you go back to your normal life?” He asked.

You were a bit taken aback from the non-related question. It seemed unrelated to you, but he was asking to see if you had anything to return to.

“Um…” You trailed. “I mean, I have some debt to square away. I don't really have anything else out there.” You said. You realized this was moving in a negative direction, so you pivoted. “I always wanted to open a bakery, though.” You said. That had always been your first thought when daydreaming about what you would do if you won the lottery. Well, until your debt, that is.

It felt wrong to say it, but he was glad you didn't have anything to fall back on.

“My turn.” You said. You thought for a moment before asking your question. “What is the philosophy behind the games?” You asked. You had a general idea, but you wanted to hear it from him.

He sighed. This felt like a precarious position to be in. One wrong word, and you could turn on him. “My predecessor started the games because he thought it was the best way to change society. He was giving them a chance to change their life, and if they couldn't seize it, then killing them was mercy. In the outside world, they would be suffering slowly as they got more into debt.” He said. He phrased that carefully, implying that he didn't entirely agree. He had hoped his phrasing had flown under the radar, but it didn't.

“What do you think about that? Do you think that could be true?” He asked you.

“Is that your question?” You asked, genuinely trying to see if that's what he intended. He nodded.

You took a deep breath. “I definitely don't think it's as black and white as your predecessor thought it was.” You said. You took a sip from your water. “I don't know if I agree on the mercy part. None of that felt like mercy. But I guess that would be better than organ harvesting.”

He tried not to react to your words, but he was glad you were able to rationalize it. Your view was still fluid, not as rigid. It would be easy to sway you. He hated phrasing it like that, but that was technically what he was doing.

You looked over at him. “What about you? Do you think it's the right thing?” You asked.

He sighed softly. “There was a period where I got disillusioned and thought there was a better way.” He said. He finished the drink in his hand, leaning to set the empty glass on a nearby end table. “But after seeing the games end by a vote and seeing the number of people who choose to return… I think this is the right thing for society.”

Your eyes widened slightly. “That's an option?”

He nodded. “If Gi-hun would have had his way after Red Light Green Light, the players would have been given a chance to return.” He said. He saw an opportunity to make a case for the games. “You know, in Gi-hun's games they voted to leave after the first game. 93% of them returned. Even Gi-hun came back.” He said.

You took a second to process that. “That's…” you said, not being able to convey your thoughts. The words just couldn't come together.

He looked over at you. “If we had voted to leave after the first game, would you have come back to play again?” That wasn't one of the questions he had prepared (and yes, he did prepare questions), but it seemed like a fitting follow-up.

You fidgeted with the cap of the water bottle you were holding. “As much as I wanted to get out, I think I would have realized that this was my chance if I had to go back out and face it all.” You said softly.

This was the last question. There was one question that had been weighing on your mind. You couldn't stop thinking about it, but you also couldn't make yourself ask it. The idea had filled you with anxiety and doubt, but now that this could very well be the last time you spoke to him, you built up the courage to ask it.

“This has been weighing on my mind the whole time…” You began, “And I didn't want to ask, but I think this is my last shot.” You felt your eyes well up with tears, and you willed them not to fall. You met his gaze, and his dark eyes filled with concern.

“I thought we had some kind of connection back in the games. The hushed whispers on the night watch and the protectiveness during Mingle.” You started, trying your best to keep your voice from breaking.

His eyes widened slightly. It wasn't at your statement itself, but just the fact he was realizing the feeling was mutual after all. But your next words chipped away at his typically hardened exterior.

“Was any of that real or were you just fucking with me the whole time?” At that you started crying even though you felt like an idiot for doing so. Your hands were starting to tremble somewhat and your eyes focused on them to avoid looking him in the eye. “I'm just scared that I was just a game to you too.” You murmured softly.

In an instant, he sprung from his seat. He knelt in front of you, looking up into your eyes. “Hey, look at me.” He said quietly, reaching his hand to your face. His hand rested on your cheek, gently moving your head to look at him while also using his thumb to wipe the tears from your face.

You were shaking now, but your eyes gazed into his, and there was something so calming about the moment. Your face almost felt electric from the soft contact.

“I meant everything I said and did, okay? Every interaction I had with you was genuine, and it was the first time I felt comfortable being myself around another person in a very long time.” He said. You noticed his eyes getting glassy as well, but you didn't say anything about it. “I'm so glad the feeling is mutual.” His voice was soft, and it made you melt. But then you realized what he said.

“It is?” You asked, almost dumbfounded. You felt your heart beating out of your chest, unable to contain all of the glee inside of you.

“Why else do you think you're here?” He asked jokingly. You smiled shyly. “I don't do this for just anyone.” He wiped a stray tear from your cheek. It was a happy one this time.

After a moment, you spoke up. “You have one last question to ask.” You said. You were mostly joking, but his knowing look and smirk made you feel somewhat anxious but mostly excited.

He met your eyes. “Do you want to stay here with me?” He asked. He took a deep breath. “You don't have to help with the games at all. You can just stay with me in the apartment and-” He was cut off by your arms wrapping around him. You had moved off the chair and fell to your knees. You buried your face in the crook of his neck. The smell of his cologne was calming.

He pulled you into an embrace as well. He took that as your answer.

In the end, he could hear Il-nam's voice in the back of his mind telling him that In-ho won the game. Just like Gi-hun, you decided to continue playing games with people's lives. Gi-hun watched that homeless man suffer in the cold on the night of Il-nam's death, and you gave In-ho your thoughts on the games, knowing he would use the information to adapt and improve the games.

But that wasn't in the forefront of his mind, not even close. He wasn't even thinking about the games at all. He was just happy that his position in the games didn't ruin the first genuine connection he had made in the last 7 years. He was thinking about the fact that holding you felt so right. You gave him a spark of hope that he hadn't felt in a very long time.

[ccazimi]

Nightingale (pt. 4)

Read pt. 3

CW: stepcest, noncon, partial p in v, choking/breathplay, dacryphilia, namecalling (sweetheart, cockslut, etc.), degradation, dirty talking, sadism, blowjob, throat/facefucking, cumplay (?), lmk if i missed anything else

WC: 3.5k

a/n: please! pay attention to the warnings! i'm gonna proofread this tmr so excuse any mistakes... also i think this miniseries will have one more part as the last one

“I’ll make it up to you.”

You hate those stupid words that he’d uttered because now you can’t get them out of your head.

With bated breaths and timid glances you sneak at him you wait patiently, wondering if he really meant what he said.

Those stupid words that kept you yearning in a way that was unfamiliar to you- if not to feel his tongue or his touch again then that damned toy he’d used on you.

The orgasm it gave you kept you up for nights, only heightened when you thought of him using it on you.

But Sukuna had been working long hours lately, and you had no idea how to even bring this up to him- as if you would, even if you knew how.

Amidst your thoughts being infected with him, you somehow didn’t feel the want to go on anymore dates. You gave excuses- that you were busy with schoolwork or that your parents were strict, because the truth was gross.

You wanted your perverted stepbrother to fuck you, use you, make you feel good in ways that had you questioning your sanity. That he’s tainted you till the point you get wet when he calls you his little sister.

These days disgust and discomfort are hard to differentiate from want and dark desires.

Still, you wondered if something had shifted in your dynamic with him since that night. He seemed a bit less antagonistic these days the few times you saw him, still teasing and taunting but in a more playful manner, and you felt yourself easing up with his presence, like you weren’t a stranger in your own home whenever he was around.

Any amiability came to a stand still not even a week later, when the situation regarding your finances came up.

Maybe it partially arose from the fact the Mr. Itadori had stepped up in his paternal role, happily offering to pay for your expenses including your college tuition. It was no secret that he was smitten with you, maybe because having a daughter was a nice change after raising two sons his whole life.

Even this would still be fine if he didn’t make Sukuna - the only other earning man in the household - pay for your expenses as well.

You insisted otherwise but Mr. Itadori was set on making his older show up for you, perhaps thinking this would show him how to act or how to be a real brother to you.

And that’s how you arrived with Sukuna having to pay your credit card bill, which clearly pissed him off to no end.

“Seventy-eight thousand yen?! Are you fucking serious?”

You stood awkwardly in the doorway of Yuuji and Sukuna’s shared room, feeling guilty enough as it was going up to him and asking him if he could pay your bill since Mr. Itadori told you to go to him for it.

Honestly, you’d try to postpone this meeting for as long as you could but your bill was due very soon.

“It was over the course of one whole month, okay?” You reply defensively, thinking you’d actually done a decent enough job budgeting this month.

Sukuna’s lip curls in irritation as he looks up from the statement to glare at you. “You don’t fucking get it do you? Spoiled fucking brat, you’ve just had everything handed to you your whole life.”

His words sting, like they always do. You’re tired of hearing this same tirade from him over and over again- and to act like he knows you or whatever the hell your life was like?

It grates your nerves.

“Don’t act like I’m the problem just because you’re miserable.” You finally spit back.

“You are the fucking problem, you just enter our fucking lives and start leeching off of us.” He seethes, creases etched into his face that’s twisted in anger. “Getting coddled like you’re a damn toddler while the rest of us actually have to work.”

“I’m a full time student, you know this!” You step closer, done bowing your head and putting up with his bullshit. “And you have no right to act like you’re a fucking saint just because you have a job, after all the things you’ve done to me.”

You despise the way your voice breaks just a bit after you hiss out the last part, the way his expression contorts with something mocking, condescending.

He scoffs. “Done to you, huh? You keep playing this card like you don’t fucking love it,” He leans closer, “Like you don’t fall apart under my touch as if it’s the only good thing that’s ever happened to you. I bet you even fuck yourself on your fingers at night pretending they’re mine, don’t you?”

Sukuna watches you try to hold yourself together and keep your composure as you stubbornly deny him what both of you know is the truth, acutely aware of how close he was and that glint in his eyes. “I don’t. You’re getting ahead of yourself.”

“Sweetheart, you’d probably get on the floor and do it in front of me right now if I asked you to.” He smirks. “If I promised you I’d make you feel so good, if you did. You don’t have nearly as much shame as you pretend to.”

You push down the lump in your throat, fingers curling inwards and unfurling again as you’re rudely reminded of the situation you’d been dealing with this whole fucking week, how even now your craving mind wonders if this is an offer.

“Make me feel good….how?” You murmur under your breath, heat seeping through your body and across your cheeks as you look down and away from his face and towards the long fingers that were pumping inside you.

You’re ridiculously horny for him.

He laughs, a callous sound that rips through and yanks you out of your stupor.

“God, you were really fuckin’ gonna do it, weren’t you? Pathetic bitch.” He sneers.

Tears of resentment, anger, and humiliation prick at your eyes and before they have a chance to fall your hand is suddenly flying through the air and slapping him squarely across the face.

“Fuck you, fuck, I wish you’d never entered my fucking life!” You yell, hating how your hit seemingly does nothing to him, or that sleazy grin on his face. “No wonder your mom left, it was probably because of you, her fucked up shit-show of a son.”

Whatever mirth lingered on his expression quickly disappears as his face hardens.

You know you’ve crossed a line, even before he stands at his full height reminding you of just how much bigger and stronger he was then you.

You’re still angry and honestly it felt good spewing that venom at him, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t feeling something new right now like cold water in your veins.

It turns icier when he smiles again, the kind of smile that signals you should leave now.

“Maybe you’re right. Wanna see how much of a ‘fucked up shit show of a son’ she gave birth to?” He prowls closer, agonizingly slow as you continue to back further and further away until you’re near his door.

You really shouldn’t have gotten yourself into this situation while the only other person at home was Mr. Itadori who was contentedly asleep in the living room sofa while the tv plays loudly in the background.

Finally you swivel around, though you know it’s pointless.

You’ve played this game before- Sukuna will always be bigger, stronger, faster.

And just like that he’s in front of you, shoving you away from the door as a condemning click tells you there’s no getting out of this now.

It alarms you, enough that you’re leaping across the small expanse of the room, though you know it won’t do anything, confirmed by a tight grasp around your wrist before you’re shoved face first into the dark covers of his single bed.

It all happens so fast, you feel the immovable weight of him above you as you struggle uselessly and panicked tears are wet on your cheeks. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry Sukuna, I didn’t mean it—”

His hand is around your throat in an instant, pressing the air out of your words as he pushes your head back till your neck is straining. “Shut up, just shut the fuck up. You had it fucking coming.”

You stop trying to fight back, with both wrists held together behind your back in just one of his hands and another that could choke you out at any time, you were only just wasting your energy.

He leans in, breath hot and humid as it ghosts across your ear. “I really held out on this, you know. But you’ve pushed your luck too far this time…”

A sickly feeling curdles in your gut when he shifts so you can feel the hardness in his pants, rubbing along the curve of your ass. “So let me show you what a mean older brother I can be.”

Your breath turns shaky as you feel him undo his pants, shifting around to free his erection before crudely yanking your own bottoms and panties down, just enough that you can feel air brush against your exposed ass and cunt. “No, no, no, I’m not ready Sukuna, please you c-cant,”

His fingers tighten back up around your trachea, the uncomfortable pressure and your anxiety letting only a scant amount of oxygen to make it to your lungs.

“I can, and I will. Besides, you were ready that night, huh? Just to lose it to some random guy you barely even knew, if it came to it.”

You feel it then, the hot and leaking tip of his cock rubbing against your pussy. You try to swallow but you can’t. You want to yell, say something, anything, but not a single word can make its way up your squeezed throat.

“Oh fuck, you’re wet.” He chuckles lightly, exhaling audibly as his cock slides further into your lubricated folds, sliding it back and forth in your slick. “You like this or something? Is this turning you on? God, you might just be as ‘fucked up’ as me…”

His grip loosens slightly on your throat, allowing you with some much needed air as you find yourself getting even more worked up, despite the fear and bitterness that boiled in you.

Your stomach tightens when you feel him stop his movements to prod his tip against your entrance. “St-stop Sukuna, I won’t be able to take it,” You whisper as fresh tears fall, “You’ll tear me up.”

“Just take a deep breath.” He says flatly, not a hint of concern in his voice. “Or don’t, I don’t really care either way.”

He presses himself further into you, and you can already feel the pain gathering as he’s barely even inserted himself.

“No-”

Your cry of protest turns into a wincing gasp as he pushes himself further into you, just the tip of him forcing its way past your entrance.

“Oh shit, you’re tight,” He groans.

It hurts. A painful burn that felt like you were being ripped open as he tries to inch himself deeper into you.

Your body’s tensed in pain, breath labored while you let out feeble whimpers as tears stream and stream, trying to just get through it, remembering how you were always told that there would be pleasure after the initial pain.

Even if it doesn’t seem like this pain would ever be worth it.

He can’t honestly be more than an inch in, but you feel him stop moving.

He’s looking at you.

A second passes before he sighs. “Fuck.”

And with that there’s another sudden burst of pain before it’s gone all together and you realize he’s pulled himself out of you.

His hand leaves your throat, relief flooding your veins when you feel his weight lift off you.

As soon as you can, you quickly turn over, harshly pulling your own pants up to see he’s already tucked himself back in as well.

You scoot farther away from him on his bed until your back is to the wall.

He’s looking down at you with a scornful look of frustration with a gaze that makes you feel small before finally breaking the silence. “Get on the ground. You’re gonna have to make me cum another way.”

“Wh-what?”

“Are you dumb? Get down and on your knees. Now.”

You do as he says, slipping off the edge of his bed and slowly lowering yourself till he knots a hand in your hair and pushes down on your hear till you’re at his crotch level.

“And take off your top.”

You hesitate.

It doesn’t make sense for you to be shy about this, especially after everything else.

You swallow and grab your shirt by the hem to pull it up over the top of your head before pausing and looking up at him.

“Don’t make me fucking say it.”

Well, at least you tried your luck.

Slowly you unclasp your bra and take off the straps before throwing it to the side to expose your bare chest to him.

Sukuna’s eyes roam over your tits as your nipples harden in exposure to the air and his tongue darts out to wet his lips.

“That’s what I like to see.” He hums before gripping your head tightly again to push you forcefully into the large bulge in his pants so that he can grind it on your face. “Feel that? You’re gonna take all of it down your dumb little throat and you’re gonna love every single second of it. Understand?”

Tears sting your eyes and your face burns in equal parts shame and arousal as you nod obediently.

“Say it. Haven’t I taught you how to use your words?”

“Y-yes, I understand.” The words come out muffled by his clothed erection pressed against your mouth.

He pulls away. “Strip me.”

For a second you pause before quickly getting to work, unable to look up at him in the eye as you do so.

You unbutton his jeans and pull them down, the outline of his hardened cock through the black boxers sucking the air out of your lungs. Your fingers brush against his skin as you hook them around the waistband and peel them down to release his swollen dick.

Your stomach coils again.

Maybe it’s just the angle but you swear it looks even bigger than last time, with a vein running around the underside that you hadn’t previously noticed.

There was no way in hell you could have possibly taken that thing inside you and survived.

“Look up at me.” He orders as he grasps his cock with one hand.

You tilt your chin, round tear eyes meeting the hungry ones above you, watching his pupils blow out even more when he slaps his blushed tip against your face, making you wince softly.

That wicked leer of his only grows, the one that always means bad news.

“Kiss it. Show me how much you love my cock.”

Your eyes widen slightly, laying your hands around the dark tattooed bands encircling the muscular tops of his thighs before placing a chaste kiss right on his slit.

“Ah, fuck,” He exhales as he rubs the leaking tip of his dick up against your lips, smearing the precum all over them like it’s lipgloss. “That’s a good girl. Keep this up and you might actually make up for before.”

You resist the urge to bite his dick off.

He taps his cock on your mouth. “Open up.”

You comply, entirely confused by how much you hated this, especially after what he’d just tried, yet found yourself just as desperately wanting to taste him.

He immediately begins to slide his length through your opened mouth, groaning at the contact against your wet tongue, continuing to go deeper and deeper till it was uncomfortable.

You try to fight your gag reflex from being triggered but it happens anyway, with something so long and large being pushed down your throat. You grip his thighs pathetically and try to push away from him as your throat convulses around his cock, trying to squeeze it out.

You’re offered no mercy because it only hardens his dick more, and with a cold laugh he harshly shoves your skull further down his length till your nose is pressed against his pelvis. “Oh come on, you’re being dramatic.”

Dramatic?

You can barely breathe, growing dizzy when he finally pulls out and peers down at you as you cough a bit and regain your breath.

“Maybe it’s a good thing you’re such a sensitive little thing, because fuck, it turns me on to see you all pathetic like this.” You wish you could ask him to be gentler but you know by now that there was a good chance he’d likely just do the opposite. So instead you wipe your tears and determinedly take his dick in your hand to put it into your mouth again- though this time not all the way.

Sukuna let’s you do this without shoving himself back down your throat, watching your face and fighting the urge to let out a moan as you swirl your tongue around his swollen tip.

You gaze up at him and he inhales sharply when you dig your tongue into the divot of his frenulum, dragging your soft tongue up from it over his tip, and back down his shaft again.

His breathing grows heavier, no longer able to fight the urge to thrust in and out of your warm, wet mouth in time with your motions and the way your tongue laves so sensually all over his dick. “Shit, you like this you little cockslut? You like sucking off your big brother?”

You moan around his dick without even thinking, and Sukuna grins again. “Wow, you really are messed up.” He rasps. “Now suck my balls like a good little slut, yeah?”

He pulls his wet length out of your messy mouth, smeared with precum and saliva. You hold his cock up and close your lips around his heavy scrotum, sucking and lapping gently at the soft flesh while you stroke his shaft with your hand.

The last restraints of his control begin to crumble at the sensation, at how fucking filthy you look like this. “Ah -fuck- god, you really are nothing more than my obedient little dog, huh? I can make you do -hah- whatever the fuck I want you to…”

His grip in your hair suddenly tightens and he pulls away to shove his cock through your parted lips, unable to control the urge to fuck your mouth any longer.

The pressure is sudden and before you can adjust he’s gripping your hair so tightly you feel pinpricks on your scalp. That pain is quickly overshadowed when he begins snapping his hips back and forth at a brutal pace.

You struggle to keep your mouth open while you try not to choke on the cock slamming into the back of your throat over and over again.

“Ah, shit, you pathetic, stupid, needy little thing. You’re -hah- really worth nothing more than being a -fuck- a cocksleeve for me to use.”

You don’t notice tears are falling again, running down your cheeks and only adding to the ness of spit dribbling obscenely down your chin from where he mercilessly thrusts in and out of your mouth.

It hurts, your jaw aches and you feel like you’re suffocating on his cock abusing your throat, hoping it won’t be long till he cums because you don’t think you can keep this up much longer.

And like your prayers have been answered, suddenly he snaps his dick all the way out of your mouth and jerks it above your face before cumming with a hiss, ropes of thick hot cum spurting out and painting your whole face white. They keep coming for a few seconds more, and by the time he’s down you feel the viscous fluid dripping lewdly down your face.

He pants, eyes drinking in the sight of you kneeling with cum all over your face, and it almost makes his dick harden again. “God, you look perfect right now, sis.”

You can barely look up at him, thinking it would’ve been a lot less degrading for him to just cum down your throat than this.

Sukuna furrows his brows in mock confusion. “Where’s your gratitude? Show some thanks and lick that shit up like a properly trained mutt.”

You don’t even think, just moving automatically to swipe your fingers in the semen drying on your face, and sucking them clean. He watches you do it over and over till of it is gone into your stomach, and you look expectantly up at him.

He’s tucked himself back in, reaching forward to pet the top of your head. “Good girl. I guess you’ve earned me paying your bill, huh?”

[xylatox]

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

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[siriuslylantsov]

canine tendencies

pairing: sirius black x reader

description: in which, you put charms in sirius' hair and confront certain traits of his.

tags: fluff! fem!reader, mmm pining, cuddling, totally platonic activities going on here, r is muggle-born hence the vet and dog anatomy knowledge, sirius is a puppy agenda, pretty women from the 70s mentioned (dont pay much attention to it), flirting.

a/n: staying true to my username with more sirius black. wanna play with his hair for days tbh. happy reading!

wc: 1.7k

“you don't know when to give up, do you?”

you raise your chin indignantly, “i'm stubborn.”

sirius fixes you with a withering glare, it doesn't pack much of a punch but you can tell he's stalling. he finally relents with a long sigh, ever the dramatic. you squeal, walking over to his bed with a little pouch that jingled as you moved. you nudge at his shoulders to lean against the headboard and set yourself down beside him. he grumbles, muttering something along the lines of waste of time and how your neck is gonna hurt. you bite back a smile at his cause for concern: you. 

“complain all you want, but you know this is gonna look good,” you muse, with an air of smugness. “you’ll be singing my praises.”

he lets his head hang to the side, looking at you, up those pretty eyelashes of his. his eyes are indifferent, yet they crinkle at the corners, trying to not prove you right. pools of grey and blue, you could drown in them. 

your elbow is wedged between a pillow and the headboard, propping you up, knees curled, poking into his thigh. his legs are sprawled out in an obnoxious man spread, effectively making you move closer so you don't fall off the bed–that's small enough regardless of the space he's taking up. 

he's avoided you all day since you proposed the idea at breakfast: putting charms in his hair. what's strange is that you’ve done his hair plenty of times before sans protest. you ponder it quietly, simultaneously willing him to concede with squinted eyes, as he deadpans you.

if he could, he would've told you that he’s afraid to be alone with you. not that he hasn't been before, he has and he's been this close to you too (he constantly is). but something is different now, something about your hands in his hair that he can’t deal with. especially recently, you've taken to scratching behind his ear and it drives him a little crazy. he won't stop you though, on account of it feeling so good. usually, you're around the others so he can shift his focus elsewhere rather than think about how softly your fingers pad over his scalp, but now you’re alone and he's cursing lily for dragging his friends to some stupid baking endeavour that he stealthily got out of. 

you watch as annoyance passes over his features (directed to lily but you don't know that) and it instantly worries you. maybe he was serious about not wanting this, were you pushing him?

“sirius, if you really don't want me to do this,” you start, a nervous edge to your fast rush of words, “please tell me. i don't want to force you into doing anything-”

“hey,” he stops you with a hand over your arm and a small reassuring smile. “i'm sorry, i do. i just think you’re hot when you're irritated.”

“you must think i'm farah fawcett all the time then,” you mutter, rooting around in your pouch for the gold cuffs you thought would suit him. “and i'm not irritated, i have a surprising amount of patience for you,” you correct, inspecting the cuffs in your palm.

sirius sits up a bit to peer at them, chewing his lip in thought. “mmm not her. barbara carrera maybe,” he adds, looking back at you, his resistance fading away.

your eyebrows shoot up slightly, in mild shock. “she's pretty,” you remark to his comparison and the seemingly honest delivery.

“yeah,” he says, incredibly earnest, “so are you.”

curious and curiouser. “you think flirting with me is gonna get you out of this?”

“i don't know, is it working?”

“nope,” you say curtly, bring your hand back up to his face, this time with a few charms as well. “pick.”

he does, and sets them in your other hand held out. you begin parting his hair for the braids, you settle for placing them under the top of his hair, since his layers are short they'll peek through nicely. you tie a sloppy half bun to the unused portion of his hair so it's out of the way and section out a piece to braid. 

sirius dutifully holds the gold adornments in his hand as you work, suddenly quiet. he always gets like this, you've noticed. all quip remarks are silenced when your hands are in his hair. you make note to tease him about it later but for now you're content to stay quiet. 

he's humming something quietly, a tune you're unfamiliar with, it's ok he’ll tell you later. it fills the silence nicely. you pick the first charm, looping it into a strand of hair and continuing the braid to secure it. his hair is unbelievably soft, it's probably why you like touching it so much. you both know it gets greasier faster because of your constant contact but sirius makes no move to stop you, ever, simply muttering a spell to revive it. 

it goes on like this for about ten minutes, mostly because the charms were a bit more difficult to work with than you thought and also because you were extremely wary of trying not to tangle his hair. he stares at you diligently out of his periphery and you try not to meet his gaze. 

when you're done you lift the handheld mirror to his face. fuck, he looks beautiful. you have to look away, allowing him to assess everything on his own. 

he shoots you a blinding grin, looking exceedingly pleased with how it turned out, “thanks, dove!”

“you’re welcome,” you respond. “it looks good, right?”

he nods, looking into the mirror again. “really good. you did an amazing job.”

your heart flutters at the praise but you don't let it show, accepting his words with a smug smile. it doesn't last long though as he jumps you with a hug, winding you. arms wrapped around your middle, his head rests on your chest, just below your chin, squeezing you in appreciation. you wrap your arms around him in tandem and lean back against the headboard and the pillows, practically pulling half of him on top of you.

it's rough and tumble for a moment before he settles with a low hum, arms still circled around your torso. he knows they’ll go numb the longer he stays like this but he doesn't care. 

you trail one hand into his hair instinctively, like it's second nature. your nails lightly graze over that spot behind his ear and he’s done for. when you begin scratching, he melts, like truly melts against your body, letting out a long, pleased sigh. he makes note to kick himself later for acting like this. beneath his cheek, he feels you shake. are you laughing?

he lifts his head, a little incredulous. “what?”

you chuckle, seeing how he blinks away the blissful air to his expression. “nothing, it’s just-”

he looks at you expectantly as you contemplate your words.

you let out an amused snort before speaking again, “i don't know if it's, like, a subconscious response to your animagus form but dogs really like being scratched behind their ears.”

he gapes at you, affronted. “are you calling me a dog?”

“you are, padfoot.”

he whines petulantly before dropping back to your chest. he noses at your sternum, his own wordless way of getting you to continue. so you do. 

“dogs have a very concentrated area of nerve endings here,” you explain quietly, scratching his scalp again, just behind his ear. “when stimulated, it causes the brain to release endorphins, making them feel relaxed.”

he hums in thought though it sounds more pleased and it scarcely proves your point. 

“how’d you know that?” he asks, voice muffled by your shirt.

“my friend had to take her cat to the vet and i read one of those pet magazines to pass the time,” you murmur, your voice still quiet as you begin to feel sirius growing heavier over you.

“y’so smart,” he slurs, words trailing off in the beginning of sleep.

“don't fall asleep,” you whisper, though you make no effort to wake him up.

he mumbles something incoherent, nuzzling further into your neck but giving you a little grace by shuffling off of your body. one leg is still tangled with yours and his arms are still tightly wrapped around you but at least he's not crushing you. 

“tell me more,” he requests, words trailing up at the end in question.

you think for a moment, reaching to the depths of your brain to retrieve the dog facts you read about that day, perking up when you do.

“hmmm dogs have incredibly sensitive noses. they have up to, like, 300 million scent receptors, where humans have about 5 million and the part of their brain that processes smells is 40 times larger than ours,” you mumble, tapping a light finger to the tip of his nose. 

“cool,” he exclaims, though it's anything but. his eyes slowly flutter shut as you coil a piece of his hair, sealing your fate for the rest of the evening. that is until, much to sirius’ dismay, his roommates come bursting in.

flour scattered over their clothes and hair alike, they’re boisterous as they enter, chatting something along the lines of baking is actually kinda fun. he groans against your body, sleep stretching far and wide from his grasp. you stifle a laugh as he glares at them annoyedly. they pay no attention to the boy, instead making plans on playing quidditch. to this, he brightens. jumping from the bed at a speed you can't quite justify, not being overly fond of the sport yourself. you were more inclined to flying for fun, rather than competition. 

he glances back at you, tentatively, asking for your permission almost. you shrug indifferently, you were going to make your way down to the field anyway. he grins and leans down, pressing a quick firm kiss to your cheek before rushing after the dwindling voices down the stairs, his own broom in tow. 

you bite your lip to push down the giggle that bubbles up in your throat, maybe there are some innate canine tendencies.

reblogs and replies are appreciated :) | m.list

[thorraborinn]

Would it possible at all for you to point me in the direction of how to translate elder futhark runes ie: “Thor, Protector of Humanity”. I’m entertaining the idea of woodburning Norse art.

lol you're gonna hate this. Nobody asks me shit like this anymore so I'm gonna take it too seriously.

Really the answer is "no." I can try to do it for you but I don't think it makes sense for me to say "learn Proto-Norse" and hope for the best. Learning how to do this is a lot more difficult than learning Old Norse or Old English (and tbh "learn ON or OE or OHG" is the actual advice I'd give here). I know you're asking about doing this in general, and not for that phrase in particular, but you happened to provide a good example so I'm going to try a translation and show all my work.

I did put together a very non-exhaustive list of sources on runes available here but honestly that will not get you far here. Turning Proto-Norse into runes is easy, it's the language part that's hard. I also made a big list of deity names in Elder Futhark. Apparently the font embedding broke so it looks like nonsense, and I'm not gonna fight with it now. But the bolded text in each entry can be transliterated into runes. I haven't looked at this in years, but did just update Thor to be more in line with what I have here. Also, don't trust Wikipedia or Wiktionary for this stuff, you can use them as a research tool but verify independently or just use them to find other sources.

If I were in your position, I would consider using Old Norse and the runes that wrote that. Völuspá even gives us a near parallel: Miðgarðs véurr, and one of many ways to write that might be ᚦᚢᚱ ᛬ ᛘᛁᚦᚴᛆᚱᚦᛋ ᛬ ᚢᛁᚢᚱ.

I should make sure sure you're asking what you want to be asking. I'm assuming you want to translate into language that was spoken when the Elder Futhark was used. Some people say "translate" when they mean the less-commonly-known-but-more-accurate "transliterate" (turn "abc" into "ᚨᛒᚲ"). Maybe you just want to go ᚦᛟᚱ ᛬ ᛈᚱᛟᛏᛖᚲᛏᛟᚱ ᛬ ᛟᚠ ᛬ ᚺᚢᛗᚨᚾᛁᛏᛁ and call it a day, and there's nothing wrong with that but you don't need my help for it so I'm guessing that isn't what you mean.

Anyway I'll give you my crack at a translation of the phrase you provided now in case you don't want to read the rest of this but the explanation is after the break:

*þonaraʀ warjaʀ *man(n)akunjas þonaraʀ warijaʀ manakunjas ᚦᛟᚾᚨᚱᚨᛉ ᛬ ᚹᚨᚱᛁᛃᚨᛉ ᛬ ᛗᚨᚾᚨᚲᚢᚾᛃᚨᛊ

(the i ~ ij thing is on purpose. word boundary markers optional)

Thor

There are some unclear phonological aspects of *þun?raz > Þórr. Haukur Þorgeirsson recently addressed this (this article is currently paywalled but for some reason the whole thing loaded just fine for me a few hours ago, not sure why), and I find his conclusions satisfactory, which complicates things. Haukur proposes an earlier *Þunurr but doesn't rule out *Þonarr (or earlier reflex of these). By Haukur's analysis the former is easier to resolve within Old Norse but the latter is more convenient with some other proposals already made, especially by comparative linguists. So we find ourselves with two proposals for the god's name in Elder Futhark-era language: ᚦᚢᚾᚢᚱᚨᛉ *þunuraʀ and ᚦᛟᚾᚨᚱᚨᛉ *þonaraʀ. I'm conditioned to favor *þonaraʀ, but I can't find fault in Haukur's preference for *þunuraʀ within the context of his own paper.

The only reason I'm not siding with it is that it seems impossible to resolve with Old High German donar and Old Saxon thunar (both 'thunder'; compare *eburaz > OHG/OS ebur, not **ebar). So while Haukur's got me convinced that *þunuraʀ seems like a more likely immediate precursor to Þórr, I can't shake *þonaraʀ being what seems to me, at least for now, a necessary precursor to the OHG especially. And for now, "seems necessary" beats "more likely." Of course variation is possible but that isn't a way to handwave conflicting data, it's a whole separate thing to investigate, and I haven't done that yet.

If I were researching something for myself, or for something permanent like a tattoo, I'd keep going and make sure I'm more confident. Even Haukur leaves open possibilities I haven't mentioned here. If nothing else, at least *þunraz no longer seems necessary to maintain (as Ringe 2014 thought following Noreen 1923).

Alternatively, one who does prefer *þunraz as the Proto-Germanic could probably be convinced to allow an epenthetic vowel for Elder Futhark-era language, so we're safe there.

I probably could have left all this out. *þonaraʀ is a fairly normal, mainstream way to reconstruct Þórr. But that wouldn't have been an accurate depiction of the situation. However we work this out, it highlights that what we're doing is not speaking/writing ancient, dead, unattested language. Or, if we are, it's only incidental to the primary thing we're doing, which is trying and sometimes failing to understand how attested words relate to each other, and taking sides in arguments about that.

protector

Selecting a word for 'protector' is difficult. It was only with some hesitation that I went with warjaʀ, a word only attested in compounded personal names like Landawar(i)jaʀ on the Tørvika A stone. It's highly likely to be derived from *warjan- 'to protect/defend.' What's a little weird, though, is that it seems to always be written warijaʀ, in apparent violation of Sievers' Law. I won't get into details here because this post is gonna be long enough as it is, but let it be known the word (and others -- the (i)ja thing recurs a bunch in the Elder corpus) is controversial and my preference for leaving it as it's attested would probably not be universal.

Snorri calls Thor verjandi Ásgarðs, Miðgarðs 'protector of Ásgarðr, Miðgarðr.' To be honest, this isn't the most common use of verjandi; usually it means 'defendant' in a trial, but we can get its meaning from context. We should stop to question whether it could have been used that way some 700 years before Snorri, and once we're satisfied that we can use it we run into trouble again with the non-phonological change of the suffix *-andz > -andi. The *-andz suffix is poorly attested in the Elder Futhark. We have the Tune stone's witada witanda-, but it's a compound word and doesn't give us the nominative ending. Then there's the Eggja stone's suwimąde swimmande and gąląnde galandi which are late enough to be basically fully Old Norse, and doesn't tell us much about earlier language. In Old Norse, these -andi words have the same endings as an n-stem in the singular, and maybe they did in Proto-Norse, but we don't have nominative (or even uncompounded in any case) forms from early enough to be sure. *warjandʀ or *warjanda? Or something else? If not for this, it's the word I'd probably use, and if we want to come as close as we can to technical dictionary accuracy, we'll have to be okay with a shot in the dark at the morphological state of the language.

Also derived from verja are vernd, verndari, vǫrn, vǫrðr. Both vernd and vǫrn mean roughly 'protection' and it makes more sense to say that Thor gives or provides them than that he is them. A vǫrðr is a guard or warden -- Heimdallr is definitely a vǫrðr but I'm not certain Thor is. Most likely, verndari is a later, Norse-era formation, which is unfortunate because it is the word I'd use if we were translating to Old Norse (might go a little bit something like ᚦᚢᚱ ᛬ ᚢᛆᚱ(ᚿ)ᛐᛆᚱᛁ ᛬ ᛘᚭᚿᚴᚢ(ᚿ)ᛋ).

In Old Norse there's also gæta. It isn't attested outside of North Germanic which means relying on internal reconstruction, which isn't great. Kroonen's (2013) *ganhatjan- makes sense and PN *gą̄tijaʀ does seem pretty reasonable as a reconstruction. Semantically, I'm not sure if it's a good fit, though I'm having trouble articulating why. Its meaning should be something like 'to watch, tend, take care of' and in most modern language is more like what Iðunn does with her apples, or what a shepherd does with their flock, than what Thor does with humans, but I don't know that we can be so precise with Proto-Norse and in either case I don't think it's wrong. Actually, perhaps gætir Miðgarðs would be a better way to put it (hint: gætir Miðgarðs < *gą̄tijaʀ miðjagarðas ᚷᚨᛏᛁᛃᚨᛉ ᛬ ᛗᛁᛞᛃᚨᚷᚨᚱᛞᚨᛊ).

The Norse word hlífa might be closer to what we're looking for, though it might only seem that way because we have little evidence to contradict it. In Norse it means 'to protect/defend/shelter (from something)' and works here, but its attestations in other Germanic languages are a little weak and don't inspire confidence in the semantics.

Given all this, I can't help but feel it's best to return to war(i)jaʀ. Though unattested outside of names, it presumably had an independent existence at some point, and is transparently derived from the verb *warjan- 'to defend.' And maybe most importantly, it is actual, attested language. This is a rare opportunity to forget about what I said at the end of the "Thor" section and connect to real language committed to real record by real people.

As an aside, véurr, mentioned way above, is probably etymologically equivalent to vé + warjaʀ, so *wīhawarjaʀ ᚹᛁᚺᚨᚹᚨᚱᛁᛃᚨᛉ.

humanity

We catch a break with 'humanity.' There are complications but they won't end up mattering. There are a few ways to say 'humanity' but they all start man(n)-; we can have our pick of -kin or -kind to end it but -kin is more common, which in PN is *kunja. But the 'man' words in early Germanic languages are a little weird. Sometimes it has one n, sometimes two; it's always two in Old Norse, but it's hard to say if that was true in elder runic language. Fortunately we can sidestep this: in most runes you only write a letter once, even if the sound is long. But to use a connecting vowel or not? Gothic has compounds in mana-, manna-, man-, and mann-. So *man(n)akunja or *man(n)kunja? Well, as Martin Syrett (1994) pounds out, Germanic in general and Gothic in particular are not consistent when it comes to stem vowels in compounds. There's a tendency to spread -a- as a connecting vowel even where it doesn't belong. So we should feel pretty safe that even if *man(n)akunja isn't the inherited form from Proto-Germanic, it was always a possibility. Finally, worst comes to worst, you could just let ᛗ stand for the whole word, given that it's the 'man' rune anyway.

Last, we'll have to put that in the genitive case to make it 'of mankind.' We don't have examples of neuter ja-stems in the genitive from the Elder Futhark but there isn't really strong reason to believe it wasn't *-jas, so: *kunjas.

We've arrived at my answer:

*þonaraʀ warjaʀ *man(n)akunjas þonaraʀ warijaʀ manakunjas ᚦᛟᚾᚨᚱᚨᛉ ᛬ ᚹᚨᚱᛁᛃᚨᛉ ᛬ ᛗᚨᚾᚨᚲᚢᚾᛃᚨᛊ

Anyway I hope you don't mind me going completely over the top answering this, I don't think I realized before starting to answer this that I needed to get it out of my system.

[becauseimswagman1]

Illusion vs Reality: When Did the Lines Blur?

Content Creator!Kelvin Harrison Jr. x Virgin!reader

--Reader is sick and tired of her family asking where her man at so she buys one--

A/N: this is a request! AND it's part 1 (idk what it is about breaking up fics into parts but I'm addicted! I get so caught up in the plot that I need to break it up). And boy when I say this spoke to me on a personal level, I mean it!

warnings: shenanigans are afoot.

-------------

Your family could be so mean sometimes. They constantly made you feel bad for not being like your older sister, married with children.

But you were only twenty-four, you had plenty of time to do all the things they wanted you to do… NOT! You wanted to live a little more than you already have… that literally just means losing your virginity. 

That’s right, a hot girl like you is still a virgin, by choice. You had a love-hate relationship with sex. Combine that with too many rom-com movies growing up, you wanted things to be special. But as growing up would have it, things were not like the movies. You were not a prude, but you never felt too comfortable with the guys you grew up with to take their time and not jackrabbit inside you. 

And by the time you turned eighteen, it seemed like everyone was getting their back broken! 

Now you weren’t a complete virgin though, you’ve done things like given blowjobs and sent nudes (of like your breasts and maybe an ass pic here and there). It’s just no one has touched you there, except yourself.

Fast forward to the big twenty-four and you’re more confident than you’ve ever been about everything except having sex. And that’s okay! Everyone moves at their own pace. 

It’s not like you never had the chance to do it either! You never trusted anyone enough AND once you got to the point with a guy where you’d tell them you’re a virgin, they either acted weird about it (“Oh you want me to be the first to tap that?”) or they wanted nothing to do with you (“I don’t know if I can be with someone that’s a virgin. I’m sorry.”). 

And with Thanksgiving coming up soon and no man in tow… you’re gonna be roasted alive by your family. But not this year! You were determined to figure something out. So you face-timed your bestie, Brianna. 

Thank God she answered for real, “Hey, Bri! I got a silly ass question.”

“Wassup girl?”

“How does one get a man in less than a month?”

“...You want a real relationship and not a situationship right?”

“Duh.” you thought that was kind of obvious.

“OH!” She laughed, “ Yeah girl that’s a silly ass question. Don't ask no shit like that again!”

“Whatever! You got an actual answer or what?”

Bri sat up in the camera, “You have a better chance at buying a man than getting one that’s not in it for sex in less than a month.”

You had an evil look on your face.

“Oh hell no! Don’t tell me you’re actually considering that shit?”

“I mean… I could! Just for Thanksgiving weekend.” It's not like you had a better idea.

She sighed, “I’m gonna trust you with this cause you gone do it anyway. Just make sure he’s a stand-up guy at least, girl.”

“Well, I kinda have someone in mind already.”

Brianna's eyes grew wide, “ALREADY?! You work too fast for me.”

You giggled, “I know. I’ll text you if it works?”

“Duh, girl! I gotta see how this plays out.”

You blew her a kiss, “Muah! Thank you again for the idea! And I love you!”

“I love you, too, girl!”

You hung up and opened your laptop. You really did have the perfect guy in mind.

—--------------------------

Kelvin Harrison Jr. The perfect guy’s name is Kelvin Harrison Jr. He’s an on-the-smaller side content creator with a super loyal fanbase. He’s become your internet crush. He’s so real (as real as the camera makes him look) and so damn funny! It wouldn’t hurt to shoot him an email with the proposition of being your fake boyfriend for a weekend, right?

--------------

taglist (comment to be added, dm to be removed): @gaydakiss @sharmelasworld @ayeeeitsmiracle @femdisa @luvrsluxe @papithetia @mzv11 @gg-trini

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

PROLOGUE

“You just made the worst mistake And you’ll regret it, darling…”

pairing: spencer reid x reader

summary: walking home from a late night at the office seemed like a good idea in the moment.

word count: 1132

warnings: fluff in the beginning, implied photos of murder (in the files!), murder, and ofc, "main character death".

a/n: HAR HAR HAR here we are again *i say as i rub my hands together villainously* i'm so excited to get this series started!! i tried to get as much fluff in as I could before things started to suck, and trust me, they're going to!!! *i laugh evilly again*

masterlist | series masterlist | AO3

It was nights like these when you enjoyed the paperwork the most.

Sure, it’s a bit morbid, seeing as most of them are murder cases, but the night was lit up with stars, and the cool autumn breeze was just starting to nip at your fingertips.

The office was quiet besides the few just like yourself that decided to stay late to finish up some files, and it wasn’t like Aaron rushed you guys on the speed in which you got things done, so that made it all the more motivating to start.

Your head was buried in the sand, completely oblivious to the work around you as the words on the pages seemed to blur together as you tore through them with an alarming speed.

Admittedly, today was slow, the only entertaining thing that happened was the fact that Derek and Emily had a severe case of butter fingers; with Emily's cup slipping off her desk to Derek's coffee falling in his lap.

A smile tugs at the corner of your lip at the memory, the monotonous writing that you’ve subjected yourself to pausing.

And it seems as though someone had been waiting for you to stop, because Spencer slides into your point of view by standing in front of your desk, readjusting his bag on his shoulder in an awkward manner.

You can already feel the butterflies swarming in your stomach when you look up to acknowledge him, and that’s when the smile you had been holding back sets itself free.

“Hey.” You croak in an unattractive manner, which has you all but scrambling to take a sip out of your bottle of water. 

“Hi,” Spencer says with a small grin, “Are you about to leave?” 

You clear your throat after taking a hearty sip, and you shake your head. “I’m planning on staying behind tonight.” His brows furrow. “But it’s already –” He cuts himself off to look at his watch. “Twelve in the morning.”

You’re flustered by his fussing, but it just causes you to smile even wider. “I know, I know.” You groan. “But these files aren’t going to fill themselves out. Plus, if we get a case tomorrow, I’d rather not come back to a bigger stack.”

He seems to ponder on something, nibbling on the inside of his cheek before speaking. “How about if you come in early tomorrow morning, I’ll help you.” Your eyes widen. “Really?” He nods.

“Thank you!” You all but cheer. 

‘It’s a date’ You wish you could add.

“Well, I’m almost done with this one, so I’m just gonna finish up and I’ll head out. Promise.” He narrows his eyes at you skeptically. “Spence, I promise!” You laugh as you reiterate again.

“I could wait for you, if you’d like. We could catch the bus together.”

“Nah,” You decline. “The weather is nice out, so I wanna walk.” You cross your arms on your desk and lean on them. “If anything happens, I know how to fight. I’m an Agent too, y’know.”

Spencer looks reluctant to agree with your insistence on being alone, but you know that he understands that he can’t hover, so he takes a step back and nods.

“Alright. Be safe, okay?”

“Okay.” You nod once more.

You wish him well as he heads towards the elevator, and you don’t look away from the metal doors until they close fully.

The smile on your face softens, but nonetheless remains on your face as you finish up, Spencer’s previously sweet concern fueling you to practically fly through the pages.The gore on the pages barely affects you anymore as you scan picture after picture, filling out acknowledgements on dotted lines. 

You can feel the fatigue setting in as you shut the manilla folder, huffing as you leave on your desk and begin to put things in your bag. 

The emptiness of the office should be eerie, but it’s rather peaceful, you liked to think. You wave goodbye to the security guard standing near the front doors, the woman at the front desk long gone. 

The wind kisses your cheeks as you begin to walk, your shoes padding quietly on the concrete as you take off home.

Spencer was a… reluctant friend. A sweet office romance, if you will.

He was sweet in an awkward way, always trying to do good by himself and others and somehow sometimes getting in his own way. It was laughable really, how someone so smart could have their own human-like faults as well.

That’s what you admire about him, that’s what made you fall in love.

God forbid you ever tell him, though. Who knows what kind of coworker fraternizing rules they had put in place.

You weren’t even sure he likes you back. Yeah, he often checks on you, brings you coffee to help you battle your exhaustion, and even helps like tonight when he knew you needed it, but he does that with everyone.

You shiver, your shoulders jumping as you pull your blazer tighter around yourself.

‘Ugh’ you can’t help but groan internally, the chilly sweater weather always makes you feel so sappy.

You take a turn into a familiar alleyway, a cut through you always take on nights like these.

The air quickly turns stagnant when you pass through, the noise from the barren traffic halting, leaving you in an eerie silence. Now, it was creepy.

You throw a look behind your shoulder, but see nothing behind you, just the small space illuminated by the orange street lights. Your hand twitches toward the gun settled on your hip, half tempted to keep it outside your person just in case, but you resist.

You throw one last long look behind you before continuing forward.

The pain came before the sound.

Your chest felt as though someone had punched through it as you fell to the ground. You didn’t even acknowledge the bite of the fall, or the pain that ricocheted through your skull.

Your body ached and yet you couldn’t move your limbs. You had no idea where you were going, your thought process growing fuzzy. You attempted to lift your hand up, but it felt like there were weights tied to your wrists.

You fought it, and your palm was met with a sticky red substance that clung to every crevice of your hand.

Huh.

When did you get shot?

The world in your peripherals grew murky, the only thing you could focus on was the sky as your hand finally fell back to the side of you.

The smell of metal invaded your nose, and a sickening nausea overtook your body. You wanted to throw up, you wanted to move, you wanted to cry.

So many things and yet nothing at all.

Huh.

When did you close your eyes?

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @murdadixon @hallecarey1 @bunnybabe-babydoll @khxna @dixonzzgirl @violettavirus @moonysreid @alexawynters @wheelsupkels @pinkpantheris @jaredpadonlyyyy @alphabetically-deranged

[apomaro-mellow]

Govt gets kas!Eddie 6

Part 5

For the most part, everyone got used to Eddie and his new form relatively quickly. Considering his new attributes and the fact he was still working on forming full sentences, that itself was a feat. If anything, the part that took the most adjusting too was how he clung to Steve now. And he really clung. Steve was used to it, in private, at least. The first time Eddie hugged him from behind, pressing himself to Steve from shoulder to ankle, right when they were in the middle of discussing what to do about Vecna...well Steve thought he might die.

Everyone gave them looks but no one said anything. At least, not at the time. Steve wasn't ready for them to be completely out yet. But he wasn't going to push Eddie away. He thought he'd never get this again. Never see Eddie again, much less be held by him.

"I just don't get why he's so close with you all of a sudden", Erica said.

"I've been thinking the same thing", Mike agreed.

"They've got a weird bond", Dustin said.

"Yeah, but like, since when?", Lucas asked, also curious.

Eddie was out in the yard. It was dark out, so they weren't worried about anyone seeing him. And he'd gotten the urge to patrol lately. Maybe he could feel Vecna trying to get close or something? Either way, that left Steve to field the questions.

"He and I did go to school for years. Back when you guys were still in diapers", he snarked.

Dustin frowned. "Yeah, but that doesn't explain why you two are all-"

"Can we get back to the important stuff?", Steve cut him off. "Like anything else?"

"Okay, why are you in sweats all the time?", Erica asked. "Did you just give up on life or something?"

Steve groaned and rolled his eyes. He got up just when more people came in through the front door. One of which was Hopper. Who had been giving him and Eddie odd looks from the start. Steve escaped to the laundry room to do a load. Once alone, he put a hand to his stomach. He'd gone for sweatpants more often lately, simply because suddenly his jeans stopped fitting.

He brought a hand to his stomach but snatched it away when Hopper appeared in the doorway. His arms were crossed as he looked Steve up and down. Steve opened his mouth to ask what was up but Hopper beat him to it.

"I don't know just what's goin' on with you and Munson. But I know it's something."

"Yeah...so?", Steve felt defensive.

"Is that really how you wanna live?"

"And what's that got to do with you, Jim?", Wayne asked, coming by with a basket of clothes.

"I'm not the kind to judge. I just don't think they need to flaunt it. Especially in front of the kids."

"Get your head outta your ass", Wayne said, setting the basket down.

Hopper uncrossed his arms and frowned. "I don't want anyone to get the wrong idea. What they do when they're alone is none of my business, but-"

"No buts, that's the end of the sentence. It's none of your business. These boys have been through too much to have to deal with you or anyone else telling them how to live."

"You sound like you're ready to fight for it", Hopper took a step toward him. "You remember I'm a cop right? And that I served?"

"Yeah we all got Uncle Sam's letter", Wayne said, taking a step towards Hopper. "You're tellin' me you never met anyone like them? People who got more letters from 'brothers' than from any missus? No one who took extra long in the showers?"

"That was wartime, it was different."

Wayne grinned and his shoulders shook like he was about to laugh and Steve was struck by how similar he seemed to Eddie.

"You just worry about Creel's boy. This ain't a fight you're gonna win."

Hopper let out a breath and turned to walk away. Steve sighed in relief and only then did he notice he'd had a hand to his stomach, almost protectively. Wayne said nothing as he put the basket of clothes in the wash and Steve appreciated that. It gave him a moment to think of how he'd approach a certain topic with Eddie later.

It was about midnight when Steve felt Eddie slip back into the nest. Wayne had pretty much moved into the guest room upstairs. Robin was in Steve's bedroom. And some of the kids had taken up residence in his parents' bedroom. Eddie's arms wrapped around his torso. Steve could tell he was in a mood more romantic than lustful tonight. Before the change, they'd taken whatever moments alone that they could and they did so now too.

The first time they'd made love in this nest had been about two weeks ago and since then they'd done it about every other day. Steve would have blamed Eddie's new form for the insatiability but they were both like this before too. Every time they did it though, Eddie talked of breeding. Steve's hand went to his front, where Eddie's hands were.

"Ed?", he whispered.

"Hm?"

"Am I...? Eddie did you-did we-?" He huffed and turned around to face Eddie, then grabbed a flashlight and put it on the couch near their heads to illuminate the room without having to get up and hit a switch.

"Steve?"

Steve met his gaze and then slowly lifted his shirt. It wasn't just his jeans that fit different. His shirts too. And now, in the near dark with only Eddie to see, Steve could admit it. His stomach was growing.

"I think I'm..." The 'p' word was on the back of his tongue and Steve felt like nothing short of his stomach heaving would make it come up.

Eddie was looking at him in awe. His hands, sharp to the point, touched him as gentle as ever. He cooed and Steve felt it before his brain registered seeing it. A wriggling in his gut. Now if, perhaps, Steve had been born with a body that held the right parts to receive and grow new life, he mightn'tve been so surprised. But as it was, he was not. So he could be forgiven for his reaction.

"AAHH WHAT THE SHIT!"

And since all in the house were experienced veterans in their own way, it could also be expected that they'd all converge, various kinds of weapons in hand.

"What is it?!", Robin asked, holding one of Steve's trophies.

"Demogorgon? Are you cursed?!", Dustin shrieked, brandishing his dad's fraternity paddle.

The rest were looking around to find the danger. There was absolutely no way in hell that Steve was telling them he was currently carrying...something.

"There was a...uh a spider", Steve said. "It's gone now."

The rest of them groaned but visibly relaxed and returned to bed. Sure, Steve's reputation was shot even more, but it wasn't like most of them held him in super high regard to begin with anyway. He laid back down, trying to relax as well and Eddie's hand was instantly on his stomach.

"Pups", he said simply, looking at his stomach in pure adoration.

Steve gave himself a minute to process it. He thought Eddie had simply been all talk. But something was inside of him now. Something that was growing. Something that Eddie was already fond of. He thought about them before. The dreams they'd had, the life they had wanted. Steve had never been shy about wanting a family that included children. They hadn't known how that'd be possible, given their circumstances. But Eddie had assured him.

"Gonna give you everything you want, sweetheart. You deserve it."

Steve was brought back to the present by something soft touching his belly. Eddie's lips. Steve stroked his hair.

"Pups", Eddie repeated.

"O-ours?", Steve stuttered out.

"Ours", Eddie echoed, smiling up at him.

Leave it to Eddie Munson to keep his promises in the way people least expect.

Part 7 coming soon

Taglist

@estrellami-1 @gloomysoup @bxnghy @gutterflower77 @v3lv3tf0x

@tinyplanet95 @thedragonsaunt @stripey82 @ajeff855 @bumblebeecuttlefishes

@ellietheasexylibrarian @gregre369 @geekymagicalpotato @live-laugh-love-dietrich @mugloversonly

@reverseteehee @stedestielfrattficlover

[rekino2114]

I getcha, let’s try this. Basic comfort headcanons for Makima?

the horsemen girls comforting you

A/n:I'm gonna fuse these two requests with something I had in mind for a while. Also thanks to everyone who requested I'm gonna save the requests and do them whenever i'm having another bad day

Makima

You loved being a devil hunter. You really did. Despite the love of your life being a devil herself,the idea of ridding the world from humanity's fears was a noble cause that you loved doing, it also helped that makima was your boss.

But like every job, it had downsides. Luckily, ever since makima fully decided to help humanity, many devils weren't as powerful so your colleagues died less often, and with how strong you were (mostly because of contracts you did with makima) you could protect them if they ever got into mortal danger. But that made the times when they died even more heartbreaking, the thought that you could have saved them disturbed you a lot when it happened and made everything weigh heavier in your mind.

And unfortunately today was one of those days.

"Is everything alright darling?"

You sighed and looked towards makima, her yellow eyes almost compelling you to answer

"Yeah don't worry"

"Are you sure? You've been acting weirdly ever since you returned from the mission"

"It's nothing please, I'm ok"

You turned away from her and started to walk, but she stopped you by putting her hand on your shoulder

"Please darling, I love you, I've known you for long enough to know when you're sad, you can talk to me about anything, and I mean anything, I won't judge you or anything, If you need me I'm here"

Her voice was so sweet and soft, and when you looked back to her, she was offering you a sweet smile, you sighed again and hugged her, a gesture she was more than happy to reciprocate

"Thanks makima, I don't know what I'd do without you"

"It's nothing puppy, it's the least I could do"

After you two stayed wrapped in each other's arms for a while, makima guided you to the couch and put your head on her chest, beginning to stroke your hair

"Can you tell me what happened?"

You told her everything that happened on the mission as she nodded understandigly

"I'm sorry to hear that darling, is the devil you fought still around?"

"No I killed it"

"That's good, I would have destroyed it for making you sad otherwise"

"Thanks"

"Like I said, it's nothing, I'd do anything for you. Now how about we order some food and cuddle, then we can take a bath together to relax"

"I'd....Like that, thank you"

"Oh and don't worry about going to work tomorrow, I'll give us a full week of time off to help you recover"

"......You're the best makima"

"No, you're the best my love, I'm just repaying you for the love you give me"

Yoru

School sucks. That was not news to you, as it wasn't to any student ever.

You had just gotten a bad grade in a test. The worst part is that you actually studied for it, you didn't expect a great grade, but at least a good one would have greatly helped you and your self esteem, you could feel all the stares of your classmates judge you even if they didn't say anything, you felt embarrassed, pissed and sad, you wanted nothing more than to be hugged and luckily you knew the perfect "person" for that.

"Oh, hi y/n, what's up?"

"Hi asa"

Asa let you in her house, and you sat on the bed before looking at her a bit embarrassed

"Can you... let yoru out?"

"Uh? Why?"

"I.....need some comfort"

"Oh yeah, I get it, I guess I could, just don't let her.....kill anyone"

"I'll try my best"

"That's.....not really reassuring"

"Sorry I'm just not feeling my best"

"OK sorry"

Asa sat in front of you and closed her eyes, when she opened them again, they were yellow and ringed, and scars appeared all over her face.

Yoru stretched and took off her hair tie, moving her head to free her hair even more

"Fucking finally, that girl didn't let me out for at least a week, you have an idea how boring it gets in her mind?"

"..............."

"So who is it?"

"What?"

"Who do I have to kill?"

"No one"

"Nope, I do, whoever made you sad is on my hit list"

"I-"

"Maybe I should make them a spear or a sword, a claymore would be cool, I take requests by the way. What's your favorite weapon?"

"Yoru, please can you leave the killing part for now, I just need comfort"

"Comfort like......."

"Cuddles preferably"

Yoru sighed and looked at you. In her time of having you as a boyfriend, she had learned to appreciate human affection and even crave it sometimes, not that she'd ever admit it. So at your request she simply opened her arms and hugged you before resting on the bed

"Just so you know I'm still gonna kill someone later, this is just because you asked for it"

"I guess that's one of the reasons I love you'

"....I love you too, and don't be sad, I'm here for you if you ever need to talk, just ask asa to let me out more often"

"....yeah definitely, thank you"

Fami

"Y/n, you haven't touched your sandwich, are you OK?"

After finishing school, your girlfriend brought you to a restaurant to eat and talk about anything that you wanted. However in the middle of your date she began to notice you acting weird

"Yeah.....don't worry"

Fami looked at you with what everyone else would have thought was an emotionless face but you could see the concern in her eyes

"Did something happen at school?"

"H-how did you know?"

"Because I know you, please tell me what happened"

You felt her hand wrap around you under the table and her gaze soften

"I.....it's stupid I just took a bad grade"

"Oh I see.......that doesn't matter"

"Huh?"

"You shouldn't let that influence your emotions, it's something that happens to everyone, I won't judge you for that and so should no one else"

"Oh.....thanks"

"But if you still upset about that, then I can help you"

She asked the waiter to put the remaining food in a box and held your hand to go outside of the restaurant

"Where are we going?"

"To get ice cream, I've heard it's the food that human eat when they are said, is it true?"

"Yeah I guess"

"Then Let's go"

"But I think spending time with you is what's gonna cheer me up the most"

"I'm glad.......I'm sorry that I seem indifferent sometimes, but I really, really love you always, you can count on me"

"Don't worry, I know, I love you too so much"

[chaoticcatbehaviour]

Nero's Imperial Household HCS

⚠️ Anything about the Gods that are written about here refers specifically to the RRverse. I am in no way talking about the actual deities themselves.

• Son of Hermes

- I'm calling him Dolios for now because it's an epithet of Hermes and it makes it easier to remember him.

- Son of Hermes, either one of the athletic epithets or the Psychopomp epithets.

- About 18 years old? Honestly what even was the age limit of Nero's stepchildren?

- Ok so I'm still confused as to what his powers would be but I'm leaning into the psychopomp side of Hermes. Although I'm also leaning on him being stronger than the average person because there's no way Nero didn't teach his step children to defend themselves without using their powers (Also Hermes is the god of Athletes sooo)

- I headcanon the Hermes kid as the oldest, partially because I don't know who else to make the oldest stepchild of Nero, and partly because I have a feeling that Nero would make the "calmer" cabins (AKA Cabin 11 and Cabin 7) really really feral just so he can showcase his strength in a "Hey I made the kids from the calmer cabins really feral HAHA IMAGINE WHAT I CAN DO" kind of way and also because he's an asshole and can't let kids be kids. Also because Nero's a furry.

• Nero definitely gave all of his stepchildren jewellery that represented their godly parent btw. I headcanon Dolios to have something like this.

Because why not? (And no this is not an excuse to show literally every piece of jewellery I have saved in my pinterest board) Meg has half-moon shaped rings that turn to scimitars but I have no idea what weapon these earrings would turn to so if y'all have any ideas tell me!!

• Lucius

- Nero really wanted the entire world to know who his step childrens' godly parent was huh 😭 Anyways onto his character!

- Son of Apollo, specifically Apollo Nomios.

- 16 to 17 years old (probably).

- LISTEN. WHAT DO YOU MEAN THAT THERE AREN'T CHILDREN OF APOLLO WHO HAVE SHEPHERDS AS THEIR MORTAL PARENT. HOW DARE RICK FORGET ABOUT BRANCHUS MY BABY. Anyways in my head Lucius's mortal father was a shepherd which is how he attracted Apollo. Again, I'm not sure what powers he would have but he definitely knows how to fight (because like I said, there's no way Nero didn't teach his stepchildren to defend themselves without using their powers). Also he can talk to ravens. And crows. And sheep. Because how come Percy is the only one that can talk to his father's sacred animals? That's unfair!

- I'm pretty sure he is one of the oldest demigods in Nero's Imperial Household? In my mind he's the second oldest out of them all.

• His jewellery is probably something like this bracelet.

It turns into a Gladiator btw. Not sure how that works but then again we have no idea how Meg's rings work either so yeah.

Also a bow and arrow seemed way too basic to me. Like may the Gods forbid that their children use anything other than the ones their godly parents use.

• Aemilia

- At first I got really confused over what godly parent she could have but then I searched up the meaning of her name and.... yeah.

- Daughter of Athena, not sure which epithet tho.

- Same age as Lucius, about 17 years old.

- Oh gods I know damn well that Nero made this girl suffer. Like you already have people having high expectations about Athena kids and then your step parent is NERO. Like this girl was probably given some big ass sum to solve at the age of 7 or something ( WISDOM IS NOT THE SAME AS KNOWLEDGE NERO). Oh my poor little girl. We know next to nothing about her but I'm gonna make her and Lucius my pookies.

- Either the third oldest stepchild in Nero's Imperial Household or the same age as Lucius.

- Not sure what jewellery Nero would give her tho. An owl necklace? Something that looks like this?

What weapon could this even turn into? A shield maybe? Y'know the thing with Medusa? (RR messed up her myth so bad in PJO that now I'm confused as to whether it's following the Greek or Roman myth).

• Hunter of Artemis

- I have absolutely no hcs about her whatsoever because I'm still confused as to who her godly parent could be. Like we know that Meg is supposed to replace Demeter which means that his other stepchildren are also mostly the children of the god they're supposed to replace.

- Still, I'm gonna have to make her a daughter of Diomedes and an ex hunter of Artemis otherwise I don't know how it'll work. I'm not sure about her name either.

- Younger than Aemilia and Lucius by a year or two, so that makes her 15 to 16 years old.

- She and Lucius are probably always paired together since Artemis & Apollo are twins. I'm not sure what power I want to give her so I'd love to know what you guys want her powers to be!

- Third oldest stepchild of Nero.

- Her jewellery turns into a bow and arrow because that's usually the weapon that the Hunters of Artemis use. I HC it to look something like these two.

How would this turn into a bow and arrow you ask? I have no idea!

These are only for the four oldest demigods, if you guys want I'll make one for the others too! (I've basically divided it into 3 parts, there are 4 children in each group and the groups are -Oldest, Middle and Youngest, the same way Apollo divided them)

Tagging- @actual-gremlin @arihuntress @humburgercheeseburger @sahebro-apollosangel @lesbianbanana @whats-a-lester @please-be-nice-im-sensitive me if any of you want me to remove you next time!

, ╱|、

(˚ˎ 。7

|、˜〵

じしˍ,)ノ

I'd really appreciate it if y'all actually read it tho....

Please don't let this flop I beg you pls

[practically-an-x-man]

Pretty sure Fablehaven doesn't have any tv/movies. Do you have a fan cast for any of the canon characters? (Voices for the ones who would have to be cg?)

Oooooh interesting! I haven't thought a whole lot about fancasts, honestly - I really just appreciate the books as they come. But if I try to put something together.... let's see.

First off, I don't have fancast ideas for either of the kids. I imagine they'd just put a casting call out for child actors, and it's just hard to pick out younger actors who fit/could pass for a certain age (and especially since they age through the books). But for the adults:

Stan: Aside from being an old man, my decision for Stan is mainly motivated by the way he carries himself: intelligent, competent, well-versed in how things work. I'd say either Sam Elliot or Harrison Ford.

Ruth: By a similar token, we'd need someone who's older and carries themself as a person who always knows what they're doing. I'm going with Meryl Streep.

Lena: Lena is describes as with Asian-leaning features, and she regains some youth after returning to the pond. I'd say Kelly Hu for her first appearance, and Gemma Chan when she returns in the third book after being revitalized by the pond.

Coulter: Coulter to me is one of those small, wiry, and vaguely off-putting kind of middle-aged men. My first association with him is a Silence of the Lambs-era Anthony Hopkins, but to pick someone who's in the right age range now, I'd go with Hugo Weaving

Tanu: Oh, easy. Big, smiley Samoan guy? Cooper Andrews. By far the easiest fancast of anyone in this lineup XD

Vanessa: My first impulse was of Lesley-Ann Brandt (who played Mazikeen in the Lucifer show), but she's just a little old to play the 20-something Vanessa, so I'm gonna go with Tristan Mays

Warren: I.... struggled with this one. He has such a specific look in my head, and even outside the physical looks, there's this quality to the way he acts that I think would take a really specific charisma. I'm bouncing between Cole Sprouse and Logan Lerman, here. Logan Lerman has more of the look, but after watching Lisa Frankenstein, I think Cole Sprouse might have the edge on Warren's goofy charisma.

(if we're going SOLELY on goofy charisma I'd go with Wyatt Russell, he nails the whole "dorky adventurer" thing in Playtest [Black Mirror], but... sadly he does not fit the look)

Dale: He's described as looking similar to Warren but a bit more plain, and being very tall and broad (built like a farmer, imo). He's also the older brother, which places a bit of a particular age range on who I can choose... I went with Joel Kinnaman, not completely sold on this one since I think he's a very handsome guy, but he's got the right build and by and large the right physical features (like those hazel-colored eyes that both Warren and Dale are described to have in the books)

____

Might do a part two with some of the secondary/later-series characters (Newel, Doren, the Sphinx, Bracken, Gavin/Navarog, etc.), but I'll leave this here for now!

[kalisseo]

i know this is so late!! I barely check my strawpage 💔💔 but anyway yes ofc!!

I know this asks for s3 but I'm gonna mention s2 bc I think it's important

also big big warning im a tophabe shipper and an over analyzer blah blah what clone high did y'all watch blah blah im delusional. also sometimes I forget words or phrase stuff weirdly, so I hope that my gibberish makes sense to you!

anyway, now to the interesting stuff!!

how topher feels about people and friendships

a bit unrelated but not really, I think most people loved clone alone, and how all the boys interacted, and me too! it was funny, and a lot of people wanted topher to be a part of the boys group, and obviously me too, but, even though I loved the idea there was something that didn't convince me about it...and i couldn't figure out why until s3 aired

topher's friendship with the bleacher creatures works because they're all outcast

and that's a bit of the reason why topher and abe's friendship worked (in a way)

Topher feels understood by the bcreatures, something he wouldn't have with many people

Topher's feelings towards people, as a whole, are a bit different to his different towards friendship, so first let's take a look at

how he feels about people in a more general view

(this is mainly s2 bc I don't think one can talk about s3 without it, u can just skip it to the next section tho)

Topher has a clear resentment towards the popular or "normal" clones, he tried to cater to people's sympathy using his woke persona, but his peers probably never liked him because of his shitty behavior (personally, I see Topher as more socially awkward that intentionally rude in s2, this doesn't mean that I'm trying to justify him, but in s3 is when he actively tries to ruin the rest of the clones day, when in s2 he's just intentionally "evil" a few times) and topher never understood that was the reason, creating this hate or resentment towards them.

in s2 he's pushed to the side on some occasions, for example in s2e5 when harriet rejects him twice in her musical because well she doesn't like him. another example could be the death maze where jfk destroys his phone and spends more time with abe (something that he caused to himselfff but yeah), then in s3 we have the dialogues 'until she kicked you to the curb' by jackee and 'the same curb we've all been kicked in' by topher, he clearly felt ignored by his classmates, and personally I think he's referring to abe forgetting him and talking to jfk and confucius.

also his roll call song 'nobody likes me, I do not know why',repeating it, but I think it's important to keep it in mind, to Topher, the rest of the clones don't have a reason to hate him but they do, who wouldn't hate their classmates when they seem to hate you too without a reason?

(my personal view is that he blames it on being a clone of columbus, that's why the name change and the woke persona)

so, in a general view, topher first starts to cater to his classmates so they would like him, more than friendships he wants fans, to say in a way, he wants people to like him. he doesn't really seem to care about friends, which could kinda count as canon, s2e2 he only talks to abe because he's basically forced to. all his attempts fail horribly, and even though he made a friend, abe left him too, so he decides to hate everyone and embrace his horrible side, and to me, because of Abe he had mixed feelings.

at first, he probably thinks that friendships aren't really important anyway, and that Abe is just another popular kid who pushed him to the side. I like to think that even so, abe made him realize that maybe he shouldn't be that selfish.

topher and friendships in s3

buttt the way he thinks about friendship in s3 is clearly different to the way he did in s2!

like i said before, in s2 he doesn't seem to care much about it, but in s3 his friends seem to be everything to him!

and to me it's because of what i said earlier, topher feels understood by the bleacher creatures

all of them were losers, outcasts and 'kicked to the curb', they all know what it's like to be slone

maybe topher doesn't really have what he 'always wanted', but he gets a group of friends that for once aren't weirded out by him, he cares about them

one of the reasons why I think his friendship with abe changed his view about how he needs to interact with other people, it's because yeah, topher keeps being bossy with the bcreatures, but he listens to them and pays attention to what they want, something he didn't really do with abe

improvement, if you will, to me this shows how much he doesn't want to lose them

to me, topher is also able to connect with them because he sees them as special, or well different, not in a bad way, but to him they're the same kind of different as him, again, he feels understood, he feels that they're all together against the world, and he tries to keep the group together

he kicks out joan because she didn't respect them and was causing trouble even though joan is supposed to be his crush

then during cloney island, they all decide to just. die there. together, because they're finally accepted, not getting too much into this because this alone could be its own post, but when they decide to escape, it's just because they were convinced that escaping death would bring them closer (bond people, something like that)

sadly I don't have a screenshot rn, but just look at him, he was so happy to be having a bonding experience with his friends

so yeah, topher goes to not really caring about having friends, to them being an important and essential part of his life, and wanting to keep them together, friends are now one of the most important things for topher, he's able to open up to them because they just understand each other

bleehhh

i made a first draft for this post, but I was focusing too much on s2

and I actually have a post like this! but really old so consider this a re make

anyway anon I hope this post gets to you

[stargirlbabies]

Pope Heyward x plus-size reader, Rafe Cameron x plus-size reader, JJ Maybank x plus-size reader.

Plus Size! Reader is more confident and didn't realise the boys (JJ, Pope, and Rafe) liked her really because she thought they were all in a relationship, you know (with Kie, Cleo, and Sofia), but they are into her.

Inspired by an idea in the DMs shared with - @chalahyung01

You wake up in your bed to your Staffordshire Bull Terrier, Bella, waking you up, grabbing your slippers, and getting ready to take the dog out while wearing a baggy sweatshirt and short shorts. You walk down stairs in your house when you, Sarah, passed out on your couch, remembering the party you went to the night before.

"Yo, Sarah, wake up," you say, walking past her.

You open the back door, letting Bella out. You stand there as you see JJ passed out in your backyard. "Yo, JJ, what the fuck?" you yell out too as he wakes up walking up the steps. "You got any food?" JJ asks, and you nod. "Bella, get in here!" you shout out to your dog.

As you and Bella walk into the kitchen, "Do you know who all slept here?" you ask JJ as he shakes his head. "I'm gonna go look around and see who I can find." You head into the living room to see John B with Sarah; now you roll your eyes before heading upstairs, where you see Kiara with Cleo in your guest room. Walking past the bathroom, you find Pope asleep next to your radiator. You kick him, attempting to wake him up. "Pope, wake up."

Once everyone was downstairs, you asked the almighty question, "Are we going out tonight?" A chorus of yes erupts as you nod. "I'm going to shower; someone stay and watch Bella, please," you say, noticing how all of their presence at once has excited the dog.

As you head upstairs, you hear Pope and JJ arguing, most likely over who can leave, smiling to yourself, you go in your shower. After an hour you change into a pair of jeans and a black vest top, getting ready to take Bella out for a walk. When you walk downstairs, you see JJ sitting on the couch cuddling with Bella.

"Oh hey, Jay, I didn't think you'd be the one to stay," you say to JJ, grabbing your backpack. "Why wouldn't I? Bella loves me most; I'm basically her dad," JJ says as you look at him confused. "Does that make me her mom?" You ask JJ, "Well, I'm going to take her for a walk if you want to come with?" You ask JJ to smile, grabbing Bella's leash. "Whoa, yeah, finally," you take it from him, putting it on her.

As you and JJ walk Bella, you see Pope talking to Cleo. "Hey, guys," you yell, and as you and JJ walk, Pope turns, glancing at you both, frowning. You keep walking, upset. "I wonder what that was about," you ask, walking away. "Maybe it's trouble in paradise," you continue, JJ looking a bit confused. "What do you mean?" JJ asks, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. "You know how Cleo and Pope are dating? Maybe they are fighting," JJ smirks to himself before speaking up. "Right, Cleo and Pope."

As you both walk past the wreck, "Go see your girl," you say to JJ, hinting about him and Kiara. He stops before you walk away. "Go see Kie," you yell as you walk away.

Hours pass, and you begin getting ready to go out drinking with the pogues. You slip on a white dress with black detailing and black boots with a white purse; you do your makeup in a casual yet still elegant look. Leaving your house, you see the pogues waiting in Twinkie; as you get in, you see a spot open between Pope and JJ. Sliding in, you smile at them both before Cleo smirks at you.

"Marry me?" Cleo asks, and you smile to yourself about how Cleo thought you looked. As you get on the beach.

Walking over to the keg, you pour yourself some beer before approaching Sofia.

"Hey, Sofia, right?" You walk over smiling, "Yeah, (Y/N), right?" She asks in response, unaware she already knew who you were.

"You work at the country club that must be hard" you say as she nods "Yeah it is hard but I get all the tea so" you both share a laugh as you glance at rafe who is rapidly approaching you nudge her arm "Hey how is everything going with you two" you ask sincerely "what do you mean" sofia asks "aren't you and rafe together" you ask confused about it when she shakes her head "I know what people may think but rafe likes someone else" you nod your head as she walks away as rafe arrives "Hey doll, you look nice" you smile at rafe thanking him

After an hour of flirting with rafe, pope and jj approach as they seem tense you wave rafe off walking off with them.

The next morning, as you let Bella out, you hear arguing coming from the front yard. Bringing Bella in, you walk out to see JJ, Pope, and Rafe arguing.

"HEY, IDIOTS, WHAT THE FUCK?" you yell as they all look at you in your pyjamas, which was a pair of shorts and a vest. JJ staring at you as if you could solve all the world's problems without breaking a sweat, Pope looking at you like you were an angel and Rafe seemingly whispering about a wedding when you notice all three are holding different bouquets of flowers.

Jj was holding a handful of wildflowers he seemingly picked himself while Pope was holding a mix of daisies and tulips. Rafe was holding two dozen red roses. You invite the three in, sitting them down. "Bella, be a good girl and sit," you say to Bella, who instinctively ran to JJ before grabbing a vase and putting the flowers in there.

After putting the flowers away, you sit down.

"What the hell was that?" you ask as all three go shy. "Quit looking around like idiots. Okay, JJ, what about Kiara?" you say, frustrated. "What about her?" he responds, "She's your girlfriend," you say, growing angry as JJ speaks up. "Me and Kie aren't dating; she was giving me advice on how to ask you out," he says as Pope speaks up. "That's the same with me and cleo" Rafe smirks before speaking up.

"I never deceived you," you say right before speaking. "I thought you were dating Sofia." Rafe sighs before shaking his head. "Rafe, I don't know if you've changed from your frat boy ways because I know frat boys like to bully girls like me who are bigger," you say angrily as Rafe gets on his knees begging you to believe he means it.

"Whoa, okay, so wait, you all want to date me?" You ask as the three boys nod, "What to do?" you ask yourself when JJ speaks up, "I wouldn't mind sharing." Pope then speaks, "I agree with him." You all look at Rafe, who sighs begrudgingly before nodding, "Me too," he adds on as you smile, feeling arms wrap around you and seeing Rafe hugging your waist and feeling both JJ and Pope kissing your forehead.

"Wait, I'm all of your girlfriends," you ask to make sure.

"Yes," the three boys say in unison as you text the group chat with Sarah, Cleo, and Kiara, telling them about this crazy situation.

[pineappleudh]

*Watch what happens when I cast a spell I don't know!

Merry Krismas! :)