#there's something hidden if you can find it ;)

[deathofacupid]

⤷ in which husband!nanami is truly dedicated to you, and only you .ᐟ

the epitome of all gentlemen — husband!nanami.

husband!nanami who tells you he loves you everyday, but he shows you, too.

husband!nanami who loves your cooking so much. he always takes the bento you make for him to his office, and looks forward to lunch just for it.

husband!nanami will always hold the door open for you, without missing a beat. your hands are so soft and warm, they don’t deserve to touch filthy door handles. the same goes with pulling out chairs — he won’t ever let you sit down on your own, not if he can help it.

husband!nanami who brings you flowers every monday. he thinks it’s a wonderful way to start the week, with the reminder that he’ll constantly be by your side. husband!nanami used to keep one, just to make sure that he knew when to get you new ones. now he just gets you them every week, and every week, you’re just as happy.

husband!nanami, whenever he gets food, gets a little extra for you. he’s frequently thinking, “oh, y/n might want some.”

husband!nanami, who whenever sees even a single strand out of place, goes to fix it. it’s also an excuse to touch you, he won’t lie.

husband!nanami always want to be touching you. whether it’s at a work event or supermarket, he will have his hand on you, in one form or another. most of the time, he’s holding your hand, but if you’re doing something, he’ll settle for resting it at the small of your back.

husband!nanami, whenever he’s on a mission, leaves hidden notes around the house. it’s a nice way to cheer you up when you miss him. you always text him when you find one, giddy smile on your face. little do you know, he’s got the same expression.

husband!nanami who devotes his entire being to his beloved wife.

all banner credits to @dollywons and @anitalenia, and it's based off this post .ᐟ

[syoddeye]

cygnet, plucked | price x reader | part one part one cw: clothes stealing, forced transformation, coercion, familial abandonment, non-consensual touching/manhandling, restraints, masturbation mention, forced marriage forthcoming cw: dubcon, forced marriage, blood, mild injury a/n: reader is a swan shapeshifter. she retains some feathers as a human. based off this request, obvs influenced by swan-maidens, swan lake.

The first time he touches you, it's your wrist. A firm grip, just below the joint. Testing. Feeling the few feathers that sprout there, thumbing over the delicate, individual rachis.

You don't move. Don't speak. Torn between the instinct to flee and the paralyzing fear that you cannot. You watch his face. The thick brows, the kempt beard. The wrinkles that pull at his forehead when he frowns.

He is older than you—older than you look, at least. His arms are burly, heavy with muscle and hair, his shirt sleeves rolled to the elbows like he means to get his hands dirty at any moment. Willing to. Blue eyes, your favorite color until this second, framed by crow's feet and speak to experience.

He looks at you with expectations you wish you didn't understand.

"Can't leave without this, can you?"

Your dress, spun from feathers and thread, drapes over his shoulder like a pelt. As if it were a thing he hunted, caught, claimed—that he did not simply steal it from the lakeshore when you were distracted. It doesn't belong there. It doesn't belong anywhere but on you.

"Come along. Don't make this harder than it needs to be."

Your sisters are gone. Fled, shrieking into the oncoming sunrise. You do not blame them. But it hurts. 

The lake is still. Empty.

He lets the silence stretch, patient. He has all the time in the world. You don't.

You've watched human men before, from a safe distance, tucked among the reeds with your sisters. You've seen what they do when they think no one is watching. The way their faces shift at the sight of a woman. The way their hands reach, take, ruin.

You are a flightless bird, exposed. Not much of a swan. A sitting duck.

What choice do you have?

You follow.

You learn his name is John. That he has lived in this cabin for almost a year. That he built it himself. That he traps and skins, chops wood, salts fish, keeps a gun out of reach, hidden like your dress.

He tells you these things in pieces, the same way he feeds you. A bowl of soup set down in front of you with no ceremony. A tin cup of well water. A torn hunk of bread.

He talks a little, asks a little.

"Never seen anything like you," he says on the second night while you cower behind his chair by the fire. Where you slept after tearing out of his arms and screaming yourself hoarse. "Wish you'd talk to me. Awfully shy, aren't you?"

It galls you. Shy. As if he is not keeping you here, naked. Vulnerable. You ache for your wings. The sky.

You say nothing.

He exhales through his nose, it sounds like a laugh. "I suppose it's not an easy thing, coming from a life like yours."

You want to ask him what he thinks your life was. But you don't want to know what he would say.

He keeps the dress in a chest under his bed.

You desperately search and find it while he is outside splitting wood. The latch is loose. Stupidly unlocked. You lift the lid and your breath catches. There it is. Your feathers, your escape, the lifeline that made you you.

Your fingers graze the fabric. It should be soft, but it feels wrong, foreign and unfamiliar under your hands. You wonder if it is altered. If it will still fit. If it's too late, tainted by his handling.

"Looking for something?"

You slam the lid shut.

John stands in the doorway, hands on his hips. Forehead slick with sweat. The axe is outside, leaning against the chopping block, but his knife is at his belt.

He'd hurt you if you tried to run, maybe kill you. You are not so sure you want to die.

You don't answer.

He crosses the room. He doesn't look angry. He looks—wry. Pleased. Like he had been waiting for this.

He kneels beside you, one arm resting on his knee, and tilts his head. Reeking of pine and tobacco smoke. "That's not for you anymore, darling."

You swallow. This is the closest you've been since he entrapped you. "It is mine."

He nods, as if conceding the point. "And what would you do with it?" he asks. "Go back? To what?"

He reaches out, wiping away a single, hot tear. The fireplace pops, and you feel the warmth of his skin before you feel the roughness of his fingers. You hate it.

"The lake is still empty. They've not come back."

You think of your sisters. You think of the wind under your wings and streaming over your back, the open sky. You think of the sound of John reviving the hearth in the morning, how he dropped a blanket over you the first night, and said, You'll freeze like that.

Of course, he thinks nothing of the fact that he's the reason why you're naked. Blind to it or willfully ignorant.

"It's just you and me now. I'll take care of you, Shy."

Shy. That isn't your name. But you'll be dead before you give your real one to him. At least something will remain yours.

You look at him. He is a big man. Broad shoulders and palms. Thick, hairy arms and a barrel chest. You've seen the thing between his legs—he's made no efforts to hide himself or alter his routine with you hiding in the corner. He touches himself in the dark when he thinks you're sleeping.

He could break you easily. But he hasn't.

Not yet.

He brushes his knuckles over your cheek.

"Can't believe I found you," he says. "A pretty wife, fished from the lake. Or the sky, I suppose." He smiles, chuckling as if you're both in on the joke. "Mm. Wife." He presses his thumb to your bottom lip. "Yeah, like the sound of that. I'll make you a proper wife."

The way he says it is careful. Thoughtful. It is a promise, or a threat. You cannot tell which. 

You look at the chest.

You look at John.

And you do not answer.

John returns at dusk, the door creaking wide to let in the last slant of daylight, and finds you trussed up where he left you. Your wrists are raw, delicate skin rubbed angry beneath the ropes that tightened with your struggling. 

His shadow spills over you, and a sigh slips from him, edged with disappointment. He crouches. Fingers press into your skin, prodding where the rope bit deepest.

"Damn near hurt yourself, honey," he scolds, massaging the worst of the raw spots. He touches you in the way you've seen him care for his axe. Slow, reverent, making sure nothing is too damaged. Unusable. 

A hand settles over the soft, feathery patch above your rump, fingers carding through it appreciatively, lingering before he unravels the last knot. He ignores your hissing.

The moment you're free, you scramble away, body aching. You tuck yourself behind his chair, peeking out with sharp, distrustful eyes. He lets you go, lets you think you've won some small mercy. 

Then he turns his back, shaking out his coat, unpacking the sack he carried in, setting out each item on the table. Dull, practical offerings—salt, flour, needles, twine. Things for a life you don't want. Things for a home you will never call yours. And last, draped over his forearm, a dress. Mundane. Plain, homespun, the color of stone.

But you are distracted. Staring at the chest.

He only addresses your fixation when he's finished, and hauls it out from under the bed. 

"Take a look."

You do. You don't want to, but you do. Your gaze flicks to him first, wary, waiting for the trap. You open it, and your stomach drops.

Your head snaps up, stuttering, eyes glossing over with hot, helpless rage. 

His smile stretches, knowing. Then, he produces the last item from his trip and draws a bundle from the sack.

He explains it's the reason why he's later than expected. A special order that took hours and a bit of coin, but was well worth it. The seamstress did fine work.

Isn't it pretty?

See the little wing pattern she stitched in?

They're the only wings you'll have now.

He holds it out, delicate feathers and lace draping over his hand, the ruined remnants of your freedom reshaped into something grotesque. A wedding veil.

"Try it on for me, darling," he murmurs, offering it with one hand and adjusting himself with the other. "Let me see my bride."

[towers-in-starlight]

Musing a bit on how to build more porn-without-plot literary-analysis-community:

On one level: as suggested in the post, set up something like TV Tropes but for porn. I don't expect "more permissive TV Tropes" itself to gather much momentum—All The Tropes tries to be that, but the network effects are against it and it ends up having trouble holding onto an active userbase as a result—but I could see a more focused project, a catalog specifically of porn tropes and of tropes-of-porn-works, maybe succeeding, in much the same way that no one has managed to make a serious general-purpose Wikipedia competitor but people have succeeded at building up a lot of very successful relatively-narrowly-topic-specific wikis.

But trope-centric literary analysis—although I pretty strongly disagree with the no-qualifiers "it's bad" crowd—is only one angle on literary analysis, and there are a bunch of others it would be good to build more community around, too. Theorycrafting, fine-grained analyses of character psychology, fine-grained analyses of theme, et cetera. We don't just want TV Tropes for porn; we also want tumblr for porn.

...at which point I need to stick on some qualifiers, because tumblr already kind of is tumblr for porn. Like, this post is solidly tumblr-permitted and is good porn-analysis. It would be nice to use a site with fewer annoying restrictions pornwise—Dreamwidth comes to mind as a better preexisting option in this field—but, mostly, the problem isn't one of site support—unlike in the tropes case—and is instead one of community. Getting the people who read/view/play/etc. porn to post analytically about it more-rather-than-less often, so that fewer people think of it as something to keep hidden, so that more people post about it, et cetera. Moving social norms towards porn—especially less-plotty porn, since it's more needed there—more in the direction of "thing to build fandom around", basically.

(Where, at the moment, people often build fandom around porn in the narrow sense of "fandoms often produce a lot of porn"—kink memes are a thing, and all—but only infrequently do so in the broad sense where the porn is the thing they're fans of and not just as an artifact produced and consumed in the process of engagement with other nonporn source materials which they're fans of, especially when it comes to the less-plotty side of the porn genre.)

I know, from the ground up, how to do that. Make more fan-posts, especially literary-analysis-shaped ones, about the porn I like, and thereby hopefully inspire others to follow in my footsteps, thus slowly shifting social norms to make it more common. But it's hard, because it needs scale: me alone doing it won't accomplish much, if lots of others don't join me.

So I suppose I'll end this post with a call to arms: for any fellow porn-fans who want more literary analysis of porn to exist, make it! Write your own analyses of the porn you find most in need of analysis! It's through our efforts—not just the efforts of anonymous others in the crowd, but also of you and I—that we can arrange for writing those analyses to be normalized.

while i completely understand why sites like tvtropes have rules against pages dedicated to explicitly nsfw media, i do sort of wish there were spaces to analyze pornography and ecchi content in a literary manner. “all porn, no plot” stories are still stories which still have a history and meaning to them, and they are still worth examining in a critical manner, even if their sole purpose is to titillate.

essentially what i’m saying here is that things like niche fetish novellas are still art and should be treated as such, even if there’s a lower bar for quality and smaller target audience compared to traditional fiction.

[bitchy-craft]

PICK A CARD: Their hidden insecurities

Hello and welcome to this new reading! I will tell you the hidden insecurities of your specific person/future spouse. I hope you all enjoy it!

FREE READING: a subscription to my Patreon before February 7th, no matter the tier, will give you a free question of choice.

Masterpost > Paid Readings > Subliminal Channel > PATREON [NEW] > Patreon Masterlist [NEW]

The extended version of this reading can be found on my Patreon, the link of which is here

~pick a card~

Pile 1:

They find it incredibly difficult to believe that there are people that truly care about them. Your SP doesn’t see themselves as someone who is worthy of love sometimes; they don’t really love themselves and therefore find it incredibly difficult to understand that others do see them as a beautiful person. They find it difficult to rely on others because they have no way of grasping the fact people around them are there for them when they need it. Your SP finds it difficult to speak about their issues and internal troubles because of this, that is why they sometimes seem emotionally distant. It doesn’t dawn on them that people are there for them.

Pile 2:

They are insecure about their future and disappointing the people around them. Your SP is someone who is very socially-oriented. They care about the people around them and take their wishes and expectations as something they have to accomplish in life. Not only this, there are people who have certain expectations laid upon them when it comes to what they have to achieve in life, and that lays heavy on their shoulders. Not everything comes easy for them, and some of these expectations they might never be able to achieve because it isn’t something they want to do, or are able to do; something they know deep-down, which makes their worries even worse.

Pile 3:

Your SP is insecure about many things all at once, they don’t have a specific insecurity that is more present than the other. They are insecure about their looks; never really happy with it, convinced they’re too skinny or too fat, that they don’t have enough curves or too many, that their skin isn’t clear enough and has too many imperfections. Due to this they are also afraid they won’t ever find a long-term partner in life even though that is one of their biggest dreams in life. They want a nice, calm, and small family. They might have some hobbies or interests that are not usual and because of that don’t really share it with many people even though it means a lot to them. This makes them feel alone sometimes.

[lotuswish]

˗ˏˋ what loving you feels like to them (pt. 6 - octavinelle) 𓆝 .ᐟ

synopsis: have you ever wondered what falling in love feels like for each twisted wonderland boy? this series explores love from their perspective—how their personalities, experiences, and desires shape what loving you means to them. follow me to see the next part!

featured character(s): azul ashengrotto, jade leech, floyd leech.

content warning(s): none.

a/n: what loving you feels like to them might occasionally use the same words, but those words mean something a little different for each of them. it might sound familiar, but it's still their own!

azul ashengrotto

loving you feels like being swept away by an unstoppable current for azul ashengrotto—inevitable, overwhelming, and carrying him to places he never dared to dream of. for someone who has spent most of his life meticulously planning, calculating, and staying two steps ahead, love is a variable he cannot fully predict or control. it’s both exhilarating and unnerving, a kind of risk he would never have dared to take before you came into his life.

azul has always carried a deep-seated insecurity beneath his polished exterior. years of being ridiculed as a child for his appearance have made him fiercely determined to prove his worth through power, success, and control. yet loving you doesn’t feel like a negotiation or a transaction—it feels like surrendering to something he can’t quantify. it’s raw and messy and completely unlike the smooth, calculated persona he presents to the world. you don’t look at him for what he can offer, for his intellect or his business acumen; you see him, the parts of himself he tries to hide, and you love him for them. that terrifies him. but it also makes him feel something he’s never felt before: truly enough.

loving you feels like the gentle pull of the moon on the tides, constant and inescapable, drawing him toward something he never thought he could have. it’s the way you make him feel safe enough to lower his walls, to let go of the mask he’s worn for so long. around you, he can be vulnerable without fear of being judged. you’re the one who notices when his smiles don’t quite reach his eyes, the one who knows when he’s tired of putting on a show. with you, he doesn’t have to be the untouchable azul ashengrotto; he can just be azul.

at the same time, loving you stirs a fierce protectiveness within him. he’s spent years honing his ability to turn the tables on anyone who dares challenge him, but with you, it’s different. he doesn’t want to shield you out of strategy or obligation; he wants to protect you because you matter to him in ways he’s still learning to put into words. you’re more than a part of his world—you’ve become his most cherished treasure, something he would protect with everything he has.

for azul, loving you feels like finding a pearl in the depths of the sea—a treasure so rare and precious that he can hardly believe it’s his. it’s a reminder that even in a world driven by deals and ambition, there are things that can’t be earned or bargained for, things that simply exist in their beauty. loving you is terrifying and freeing all at once, and though it challenges everything he thought he knew about himself, he wouldn’t trade it for anything. you are the one thing he never saw coming, the one thing he never wants to lose.

jade leech

loving you feels like curiosity turned obsession for jade leech.

to jade, love is something foreign and utterly fascinating. it’s a deep ocean he’s never fully explored, and you are the mystery hidden beneath its surface. his love for you isn’t loud or obvious; it’s quiet, calculated, and deliberate, like the way he nurtures rare plants in his terrariums. loving you is a process, one he savors as much as he analyzes, peeling back the layers of who you are, uncovering your quirks, your fears, and your dreams. for jade, this discovery is intoxicating, a puzzle he never tires of solving.

and yet, it’s not just fascination. loving you feels like control slipping from his grasp in a way he never anticipated. jade is meticulous, always composed, always in control of himself and his surroundings. but with you, there are moments when he feels unbalanced, when the depth of his emotions surprises even him. it’s as if the current is pulling him somewhere unknown, somewhere dangerous, yet he can’t resist being swept along. loving you is a contradiction: it makes him feel both completely exposed and utterly alive.

for someone who rarely shows his true intentions, loving you feels like a quiet surrender. you see sides of him no one else does, the softness beneath the sharp edges, the warmth behind the cold, polite exterior. it’s disarming and thrilling all at once. you make him feel seen, not just as azul’s clever right-hand man or as the more composed leech twin, but as jade. you notice the details no one else bothers to see, and in return, jade finds himself wanting to give you everything, to open up the world to you as if you were the only person in it.

yet, there's also a possessiveness to his love, a quiet but unyielding need to keep you close. jade is not one to display his emotions openly, but beneath the calm exterior lies an intensity he keeps carefully hidden. loving you is like uncovering a sunken ship filled with untold treasures—a rare discovery he'll guard fiercely, no matter what. his protectiveness is subtle, woven into the fabric of his interactions with you, but it's unshakable all the same.

loving you feels like tending to a rare and delicate flower—something beautiful that requires both care and patience. you are the one thing in his life that cannot be manipulated or controlled, and instead of frustrating him, it fascinates him. he finds joy in watching you bloom, in learning how to nurture the connection between you. loving you is more than fascination; it’s a game he never wants to win, a puzzle he never wants to solve—because the joy isn’t in the answer, but in the endless discovery of you.

floyd leech

loving you feels like chaos and calm all at once for floyd leech.

floyd’s life has always been shaped by his whims, his moods, and his insatiable need to avoid monotony. to him, the world is a game, and people are pieces he moves and discards when they stop being interesting. but you? you’re different. you’re the one thing he can’t figure out, the one person he doesn’t want to toss aside. loving you feels like the kind of chaos he craves, but it also unsettles him in ways he’s never experienced before.

floyd thrives on extremes. he’s not used to balance or moderation, and his feelings for you are no exception. loving you is all-consuming—intense, raw, and sometimes overwhelming. it’s like the ocean at its most turbulent, waves crashing against his heart with a force that leaves him breathless. you challenge him, intrigue him, and keep him guessing, and that’s what he loves most. with you, there’s no risk of boredom, no stale routine. every moment feels alive, charged with a kind of energy he thought only existed in fleeting thrills.

loving you is something he never thought he’d allow, something that sneaks past his defenses and takes root before he even realizes it. floyd has never been one to settle down or feel tethered to anyone, yet with you, he doesn’t feel trapped. he feels seen. you don’t flinch at his unpredictability or try to smooth out his rough edges. you accept him as he is—moods, sharp teeth, and all—and that makes him want to keep you close, tighter than he’s ever held (squeezed) anything before.

it’s not easy for floyd to process emotions like this. he’s used to acting on impulse, but loving you makes him hesitate. it makes him think about what it means to want someone so deeply, to be afraid of losing them. it brings out a possessive side of him, but it’s more than just wanting to keep you close. it’s the fear of you walking away, of you deciding that the chaos he brings isn’t worth it. the idea of losing you is one of the few things that can genuinely make him feel vulnerable.

for floyd, loving you feels like a temptest—untamed, intense, and utterly consuming. it’s a force of chaos that turns his world upside down, and he wouldn’t trade it for anything. you’re the only one who can keep up with him, the only one who doesn’t try to dull his edges, and for that, he loves you with every ounce of his chaotic, unpredictable heart. you’re his favorite thing in the world, the one person he never gets tired of, and he’ll make sure you know it every single day.

congrats on making it to the end! if you enjoyed this, likes, comments, follows, and reblogs are always appreciated—they help motivate me to keep creating and sharing!

[loveemagicpeace]

💗Astro Notes💗

The fire signs tend to be confident of finding light at the end of the tunnel. The earth signs are focused in the present - staying busy with practical arrangements can bring security. With planets in air, your key asset is objectivity - conversely, with planets in water you need to give due importance to deep feelings.

The cardinal signs tend to deal with difficuity by taking control and trying to make headway. In the fixed signs, there is natural resilience and staying power. If you have mutable signs strong on the other hand, running away might be your preferred option - but if not, you can use your versatility and capacity to adapt.

The 6th house is a good place to begin. Your daily health plan belongs here and so it is wise to create one which reflects your 6th house planets (and/or the sign on the cusp).

Sometimes there will be contradictions, such as having both Jupiter and Saturn in this house, but this simply means that you must pay attention to both and get them to work in tandem in this area of your life.

Even if you have Chiron or Uranus here, you can devise a way to honour these principles. With Chiron in the 6th, you might be interested in investigating complementary health practices; with Uranus, it might help to exercise in short bursts, and also to find ways to discharge the high-voltage nervous energy this planet exudes. Mercury in 6th house you can have a very exciting lifestyle, and you can also be distracted by many things during the day.  Sun in 6th house you like to be productive during the day itself.

The 12th house Traditionally this was regarded as the house of sickness, a place where planets lose vitality and are "weak" in their expression. Other astrologers speak of karma and "past lives" in respect of this house. A psychological approach can shed light on this.

Planets in the 12th are hidden from view - thus our motivations and behaviour patterns around them tend to be unconscious. In addition, the "past lives" can be seen as those of our ancestors; planets here can hint at complexes or traumas experenced by past generations, which we have somehow inherited.

These hidden feelings often make themselves known to us in psychosomatic form, as physica. symptoms. An example of this might be the Moon here suggesting an experience of lack of nourishment or care, which might emerge as a longing to be looked after; with  Mercury here you can experience of not being allowed to speak out, which emerges as illnesses or conditions connected to the voice.

People with a lot of neptune, 12th house energy are more prone to daydreaming and have a more relaxed outlook on life.You are not so inclined to be able to do something immediately or to be organized, you are often more inclined to do things when you feel like it. You do a lot of things by feeling.

Sun -your indentity and purpose can emerge from a life dedicated to service. Mercury- you have ability to manifest a lot of things. You have a wild imagination. Pluto- You have a very strong intuition and often feel things before they happen.

Pluto can be very powerful in this position.

Based on your venus u can see what type of love u want and where u feel the most loved. Venus is also your pleasure and desire. Where you find your value. Your beauty, art , music, things you love to do. Sagittarius venus you find beauty while traveling. The love you have for places is very big. You love people with whom you can share adventures, fun things, passion. Virgo venus for you grandness of love is shown through everyday acts of affection and care.

Virgo Rising -they have trouble finding true love. They attract many partners who don't suit them in the way they would like them to be. They are also quite individualistic. They like to be with people they can connect with as part of their routine, they usually look for someone who has a similar lifestyle to them.But many times they attract people who are the opposite of who they are, especially since they have Pisces in the 7th house. At least once in their lives, they attract someone who betrays them or has a false identity. They often have a thinner physique and have a harder time gaining weight.

Cancer Rising-they tend to find the right partner later in life.Usually when they have a Saturn return. Before that, they can attract many karmic partners.

Capricorn Rising-they are very independent and can do many things on their own. They also have a lot of luck in love, often find partners, are caring, and create a beautiful home with them.They have a lot of self-respect and will never let you humiliate them.

Libra Rising -They flirt a lot and always need love, but because this is the house of Mars, it is sometimes very difficult for them to regulate their energy. Your personality is naturally passive aggressive at times. You don't like conflicts.. You see the beauty in everything and always want to be kind to people. But there is one side of you that doesn't show as much. That is, people always think you are very open because of your friendly energy, but you are actually quite a closed person. You don't really share your privacy with others.

Sagittarius Rising- Your personality is very optimistic and you try to look at life from a positive perspective. Many times you can  have certain beliefs that you don't deviate from. You are also a very resourceful person. You can quickly get out of situations that are not pleasant

Rebekah🌙🧜🏻‍♀️

[fangel]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s what he couldn’t help but do to you every night. It was the only time he liked you to be messy, when you were laying in a heap of doll parts beneath him. He tried to be gentle with his curiosity, he really did, but it was as if something overtook him. That dark look in his eyes got bolder until he couldn’t hold himself back—until he just had to tear you apart

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you were sunghoon’s muse, his flawless, perfect wife that he dresses in frilly dresses and makes sure you always looked like the idealized woman. that much was evident from all the dolls he made of you that sat proudly throughout your home. but, when sunghoon isn’t there, the dolls move and show you things that would otherwise be hidden in the shadows. one day, they show you something so frightening, something completely sinister that you force yourself to believe that it isn’t real. your beloved husband wouldn’t do something like that, would he? you weren’t so sure about your answer anymore.

pairing ⸝⸝ park sunghoon 𝑥 fem!reader 𓄵 𝓯eat. ꔛ 𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘦!

genre ⋆ 📓 ⸝⸝ established relationship, angsty & mature themes, smut, some fluff, husband & dollmaker!sunghoon, gothic vibes, supernatural elements

warnings ⸝⸝ dark content, heavy dubcon, dollification, mentions of murder and kidnapping, really creepy dolls, sunghoon is actually insane lmao, heavy gaslighting, possessiveness, unprotected sex, soft dom!sunghoon, heavy body worship, slow sex to rough sex and back to soft sex (you’ll see), manhandling, handjob, cumshots, clit stimulation, fingering, brief somnophilia, slight dacryphilia, mentions of oral (f. rec), praise, petnames (my love, darling, doll), hair pulling (m. rec), cockwarming, a lot of skinship, teasing, brief nipple play, mentions of aftercare, they are very very codependent, traditional marriage aspects

𝓴ipo’s note ⸝⸝ went a bit insane writing this because why is the smut scene alone 5.4k words??? but it’s finally here!! my first post on my new blog (that’s not part of a series) and my first darker content fic!! this was really fun to write and opened a primal lust within me for sunghoon that made me crazier… hehe enjoy loves!!

͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏  ͏  ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏  ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏  ͏ ͏  ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏͏ ͏ ❨ 14.8k ❩    ╱    ❨ 𝓶. list ❩ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏  ͏ ͏  ︵͡   𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙙𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 (´ε｀ʃƪ)♡

You always strived to be nothing short of perfect, and you were immensely proud at the fact that you have never strayed from the path of the idealized woman in the eyes of their beholder.

And you were perfect. The perfect person, the perfect woman, the perfect wife. It was what you were born and bred to be, and with a smile you lived your life knowing that not a single frizzy strand of hair was out of place nor was there a single wrinkle in your dress. You were pretty, pristine, perfect. You’d ask for nothing more.

But, as the days started to pass—and your husband was out later and later for work—you started to hate the idea of perfection. You clawed at it like a noose wrapped around your pretty throat. Gone were the days where you’d be set alight with how well you presented yourself—with how much your husband loved to stare at you. These days, you just wanted to be.

In the beginning, you loved to be under Sunghoon’s watchful eye. You loved how he’d dress you in perfectly fitting clothes suited to what he loved to see you in—frills and lace. Loved how he’d fluff your hair if it was too flat or if it wasn’t up to his standard, or smooth down the fabric of your dress. You loved when he treated you like his perfect little doll. It meant the world to you, especially when it came from such an expert dollmaker like your husband himself. In his eyes, it meant you were the best of the best, that no other doll that he has made could compare—his perfect creation.

Now, the more you think about it, the more your throat closes up. But, as much as you’re growing to hate the idea, you just can’t let go of the deeply rooted perfectionism you still strive for. It’s as if it’s embedded in your skin, as if it’s in the marrow of your bones and in the blood that pumps through your veins. You don’t know how to live a life that isn't perfect, and at this point, you’re too scared to find out what that life entails.

So you put on the dress Sunghoon lays out for you before work and you style your hair just the way he likes it—and you be perfect. Because that is all you know how to do.

You stare at yourself in the mirror in your bathroom, your brows knitted together. Confusion spread throughout your body as you tried to put a name to what you were feeling. Disgust, maybe? Hatred? You didn’t know. Sighing softly to yourself, you picked up your makeup brush and dusted more of the blush onto your cheeks.

Sunghoon had already left for work, so it didn’t even really matter what you looked like right now. You stepped out of the bathroom and into your bedroom. Dolls of various sizes greeted your sight. Some had intricate and realistic outfits, the same ones that you wore, and some of them were more plainly dressed. There were dolls everywhere in your home, even some perched on the open shelves of your kitchen. It was a little girl’s dream home. The most unsettling thing about all the dolls around you no matter where you turned was how much every single one of them resembled you in some way.

It was as if Sunghoon could never quite capture your likeness exactly. With some dolls, their eyes were too big, their lips were too small, or the arch of their brow wasn’t quite right. Sometimes he couldn’t accurately carve the curve of your nose. You knew it drove him mad, not being able to immortalize you in his craft.

“You’re too flawless,” Sunghoon had told you once. You were laying in bed together and the tips of his fingers trailed along your arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake. He used to always give you goosebumps, the good ones. Now it feels more like a chill down your spine.

You stared up at him from your pillow and watched as his eyes devoured your frame. His fingers twitched, briefly stopping their descent back down your arm, and you could tell he had the urge to test his hand at making you again. “I don’t think I’m flawless,” you smile at him, “I’m just as flawed as everyone else—just as human.”

Sunghoon’s gaze flicked up to your face, specifically to your smile, like he was committing it all to memory. He moved the hand that was trialing your shoulder up to cup your cheek. His thumb gently caressed the soft skin before he grazed it along your lips. There was a certain glint in Sunghoon’s eyes that you knew all too well.

“You’re flawless to me,” he stated. His thumb brushed along your bottom lip and pulled it down a little. You watched as his pupils dilated and the mix of lust and fascination that swirled in them grew. Ever so slightly, his eyes widened, too. Sunghoon moved his thumb down to your chin before leaning down to press his lips to yours.

He captured them with a certain roughness—the type that always shocked you with how gentle it initially seemed. Sunghoon’s hand grabbed your chin harder, his fingers creating soft indents into your skin as he leaned your head back and further into the pillow.

You were so moldable for Sunghoon, a shiny lump of clay ready for his skilled hands to turn you into a masterpiece. He hummed into the kiss and his teeth delicately bit down into the flesh of your bottom lip, only enough to not leave a mark. You moaned into his mouth, your arms raising to wrap around his neck in an attempt to pull him closer. In response, Sunghoon pulled his lips away from yours. He pressed feather light kisses to your cheek and up to the shell of your ear. “You’re my muse,” he whispered, before his head dipped to the crook of your neck to leave kisses there too.

You suppose that being so perfect wasn’t so bad if it meant that Sunghoon couldn’t keep his hands off of you—if it meant that he couldn't keep his hands off of his tools to try and remake you over and over again. Perhaps you were viewing it all wrong. Maybe it wasn’t a noose around your throat, but a pretty handmade necklace crafted by his nimble fingers. If it meant that Sunghoon never leaves, then you could be as perfect as he wanted forever. If it meant that he looked at you like you were the most beautiful thing he ever laid his eyes on, then you would be his doll for as long as you lived.

Maybe it wasn’t perfectionism at all, but an act of complete devotion—an act of love.

Sunghoon left open-mouthed kisses along your chest and moved further and further down until the lace of your lingerie blocked his lips from your skin. He pulled away from you fully and looked down at it like he was offended. You squirmed beneath him, your chest heaving as you tried to take in any air that you possibly could. “Please,” you inhaled, looking up at him desperately.

You weren’t quite sure what you were begging for exactly; maybe for his lips to be back on your skin, or maybe for him to quell the heat radiating from your body. “Please,” you said again, your voice coming out quieter and more forlorn.

Sunghoon ran his hands underneath the sheer fabric at your stomach and you gasped at his touch. “So soft,” he sighed contently, hands trailing further up until they physically couldn’t anymore and were blocked by the lace at your breasts. His calloused hands were a stark contrast to your velvety skin and the slight roughness made you shiver.

He pushed the sheer fabric up your stomach with the movement of his hands until the bottom half of your body was completely bare under him. Sunghoon must’ve decided that he couldn’t wait any longer, couldn’t bear to take the extra second to lift the lingerie over your head, because the harsh sound of fabric ripping filled your ears and the swift coldness of sudden exposure had you gasping again.

Sunghoon tossed the tattered fabric somewhere off to the side next to the two of you and in the corner of your eye you saw it fall to the floor below. His hands surged upwards, no longer bound by the restraints of your lingerie, and grabbed your breasts. Sunghoon’s thumbs rubbed against your hardened nipples and you arched your back off the mattress to give him more access. His hands dropped down to your thighs and he pushed them towards your stomach as he spread them further apart.

Sunghoon’s breath hitched when his eyes finally got a look at your glistening pussy, completely on display for him. His hand then moved from the back of your thigh and he dragged his fingers through your folds, collecting the slick on his fingertips. “Perfect,” Sunghoon breathed out.

Your husband liked to dissect things. He liked to break things apart and put them back together all shiny and new. It’s what he did to you every night—left you in a heap before cleaning you off and making you new again. You didn’t care, you just liked the feeling of his hands on you, even if its intention was to destroy. You knew that it was just a morbid curiosity. As long as he remained by your side, you were content in being a pile of doll parts for him to play with as he pleased.

In your bedroom, your eyes landed on a doll that wasn’t there when you had stepped into the bathroom. It sat in the center of your bed, dressed in the same lingerie that Sunghoon had ripped up. It didn’t look at you, but at the entrance of the room, with the hint of a smile that you knew was carved into the doll but couldn’t help but feel was mocking.

No matter how often it happened, you’ll never get used to the fact that the dolls moved around on their own. It only happened when you were home alone. The dolls never dared to move when their maker was home, but you still felt their eyes on you nonetheless. You had told Sunghoon about it—the two of you even waited around to see if one of them would move, but they never did. It was extremely frustrating.

You sighed at the doll and straightened your back. Leaving said doll where it was without a word, you left your room to put a start to your day.

What you weren't expecting was even more moved dolls in your kitchen. You stopped in your tracks as different, mini, and almost identical versions of you stared directly at you from the kitchen table in a circle. Usually it was only one doll that moved here and there, but this many moved dolls in the span of minutes was completely odd. Cautiously, you stalked towards them to see what they were surrounding.

It was the TV remote. You scoffed.

You grabbed the remote with a roll of your eyes. Aiming it towards the tiny box TV in the kitchen, you clicked it on and placed the remote back down onto the table next to the dolls. You let whatever channel it was left on play in the background as you started making breakfast for yourself.

“We’re here with the mother of one of those young girls today. Can you tell us a little about your daughter, ma’am?” you heard the news reporter ask. You took a pan out from under the lower cabinet and placed it onto the stove, ticking on the heat. You watched as a flame ignited, quick and large as lightning, before calming to something smaller.

A grief stricken voice filled your ears next between your soft humming. You didn’t realize that it was the tune Sunghoon always hummed when working from home—something he didn’t do as often anymore. “She was the most beautiful girl in the world—the most gentle and kind. She loved everyone and she loved love. My daughter was the single spark in this bleak night. Please, if you know where she is, please let a mother know.”

You moved about the kitchen, ignoring the way the dolls’ eyes seemed to follow your every move. Cracking the egg, you let it fall into the pan with a sizzle, fanning away the sudden smoke that rises. “The news station also has an anonymous tip hotline open for anyone who may know any information. The search for the six missing girls is still on. This Friday, the mayor will hold another search party and encourages everyone who can to join.”

Turning to throw away the shell of the egg, you caught a glimpse of the TV. “This has been—” You gasped, the shell falling to the tile below with a soft crack as your hand flew to cover your mouth. On the small screen were the pictures of the six missing girls—six missing girls who all looked eerily alike to one another, eerily alike to you. You rushed forward towards the screen, desperately needing to get a closer look at the girls’ image.

Fear and panic prickled at your skin and clawed its way up your throat. What if you were next? What if whoever was taking these girls had their eye on you to take next? You glanced around the kitchen, the dolls suddenly gone from the kitchen table and perched back in their rightful places on various shelves. What if one day you stepped out of your home to run an errand only to be met with a cloth to your nose and mouth?

You began to tremble as you focused your attention back onto the TV. Did the police have anything on who was taking the girls? Any physical descriptions or perhaps a drawing? You waited for the news to mention anything else, but they didn’t. 

Lightheaded, you felt yourself begin to spiral. Your hands grabbed tight to the kitchen counter as you tried to steady yourself and not let the fear cloud your mind. Maybe it was all a coincidence. Maybe you just happened to look like those girls but the perpetrator was after someone else. You inhaled sharply, trying to swallow down the fear and panic and let the oxygen get through instead.

The sudden loud ringing of the smoke alarm startled you and made you jump. The eggs. They were still on the stove! “Oh!” you breathed as you hurriedly moved to turn off the stove. You accidentally stepped on the egg shell in the process. “Oh no,” you said softly under your breath as you moved from the stove to the trash can. You scraped off the burnt eggs, your appetite suddenly gone. You sat the pan in the sink for you to wash later.

Bending down, you meticulously picked up the pieces of egg shells on the floor to throw away as well. When you turned from the trash, there was a singular doll back on the kitchen counter. You jumped again.

It pointed towards the hallway to get to your living room, unblinking. You stared at it for a moment—at yourself. Why were the dolls doing this? “Fine,” you say, smoothing out your dress, “I’ll play along.” You need a distraction from the missing girls anyhow.

You left the kitchen and made your way down the hallway that the doll pointed to. As you slowly made your way down it, you didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary besides the way the various dolls’ eyes followed you. You make the bend to the end of the hallway and freeze.

At the end of the hallway was the displayed dollhouse that you didn’t touch. Sunghoon didn’t even let you clean it, opting to clean it himself. It meant a lot to him and he took great care for it to be in as pristine condition as possible. The dollhouse was a perfect replica of your home, down to the welcome sign you weaved on the front of the door. You’ve never even seen the inside of it… until now.

There was a crowd of dolls on the ground below it, more than you’ve ever seen moved before, pointing up at the scene portrayed in it. Swallowing thickly, you stepped further forward as a chill ran down your back.

In the dollhouse were only three dolls: one of you, one of Sunghoon, and one that you couldn’t even begin to understand what it could be. You took another cautious step forward, leaning in to get a better look and taking care to not step on any of the dolls. The scene depicted in the dollhouse was quite simple. You were upstairs in you and Sunghoon bedroom, asleep. Sunghoon was in some room you’ve never seen before, carving away at a doll that you could only assume was of you. Behind him was the other doll, covered in different, mismatched layers of fabric. It was so covered by copious amounts of fabric that it didn’t even seem to have the body of a doll anymore. It was almost grotesque looking, in a way.

Very quietly, almost indistinct, you heard the same melody Sunghoon hums when working. Your eyes widened in shock as you furiously tried to digest and decipher the scene. You shook your head a little. “I don’t understand,” you say, the confusion dripping from your voice. “What does this mean? What is that behind him?”

There was a creaking behind you and you swung around at the sound. More dolls were behind you, pointing. You weren’t sure if they were pointing at you or the dollhouse. Maybe it was both. You swung back around to the dollhouse when you heard something move.

Now Sunghoon was in front of the other fabric-covered doll. His doll was slightly bent at the torso and his head was tilted. The thin, wire-framed glasses he wears sat low on his nose bridge. You knew that look—that inspecting look. That morbid curiosity. It felt as if the dolls were screaming at you, “Do you understand now?” You still weren’t sure that you did. Too many puzzle pieces were missing from the board and it hindered you from seeing the whole picture. The sound of Sunghoon’s humming still filled your ears and you didn’t know what to do to stop it.

More creaking and you turned to look behind you. More dolls. They filled the entire hallway, their tiny fingers pointing at you, trying to force you to understand what they were trying to show you. Behind you, the dollhouse began to violently shake and you gasped as you looked at it. Sunghoon was now back in the bedroom with you. He stood over you, his hand hovering over your arm. You knew the action it was trying to convey—you could feel the tips of his fingers trailing up and down your actual arm now, making you shiver.

You stumbled backwards, even more confused and scared at the shaking dollhouse. The front of the dollhouse slammed shut, locking in the scene of you and Sunghoon inside, and stilled. Your chest rose and fell heavily and you clumsily stumbled your way out of the hallway and into the living room, avoiding any pointing doll that you could.

Later that day when Sunghoon came home from work, you didn’t mention the moving dolls or the dollhouse. It was as if nothing happened at all, every doll was where he placed them and the dollhouse was just as pristine as he left it. You especially didn’t dare mention the scenes depicted in the dollhouse. You feared your husband would think you were crazy.

You carried the plate of hot food to where Sunghoon sat at the kitchen table. “Eat up!” you smiled placing the plate in front of him before placing a chaste kiss to his cheek. You felt him smile before you pulled away. You were turning to make yourself a plate when Sunghoon grabbed your wrist to stop you. You jumped, a gasp slipping between your lips. Trying to cover it all up, you turned back to Sunghoon with a smile.

His own smile faltered and his thick brows drew together. “Thank you, darling…” he trailed, the words falling from his lips one by one. “What’s wrong? You’re never so jumpy.”

You’d been jumpy since he got home, still shaken from the morning’s encounter. It was so bad that you nearly burnt yourself on the stove while making dinner, suddenly startled by the sound of the front door opening and Sunghoon returning home from work. When he kissed you hello, his arms coming to wrap around you, you jumped then too. You tried to distract him with your smile, but you should’ve known that nothing gets past your husband.

“It’s nothing,” you say, smiling again and giving him a slight shake of your head. “I guess my body is just getting used to not being by itself now that you’re home.”

Sunghoon sighed and pulled you back towards him by your wrist. You let yourself be pulled into his lap. Sunghoon buried his head in the crook of your neck. “I’m sorry,” he says, his words coming out muffled. “I know I've been working more and more lately and I haven’t had much time for you.”

You leaned into his touch, sighing contentedly. “Can’t you work from home?” you asked meekly, voice barely louder than a whisper, “Like you used to? You work so much and you’re always gone. I miss you when you’re not here, and in return I’m sad the whole day.”

Sunghoon’s black hair tickled you as he lifted his head to press his lips to your neck, right where the thumping of your heart could be felt. His eyes met yours and the gentle pout of your lips. “I don’t have all the tools here that I do at the shop,” Sunghoon responded. When you sighed again and looked away, he continued. “But, I might be able to work from here tomorrow… I already finished most of the workload. We can spend tomorrow together, what do you say to that?”

You glanced back at him, trying to not let the happiness you felt break through your sulky demeanor. Clearly, it didn’t work, because the smile returned back to Sunghoon’s face even larger this time. “I suppose that’s okay,” you grumbled, the smile tugging more at your lips by the second.

Sunghoon chuckled, “Yeah?” You nodded, giggling at the way he dragged his nose along your cheek and the coldness of his glasses. “I love that sound,” he says, holding you closer. “I want to hear it forever.” He pulled away from you just enough to get a good look at your flustered face. Sunghoon brought his lips to yours, capturing them in a sweet and slow kiss.

Giggling more into the kiss, you broke away from him with great effort. “Eat,” you say, standing to your feet. Sunghoon didn’t let you get far. “We have a big day tomorrow.”

“Your dinner smells amazing, my love, but I think I want something else on the menu,” Sunghoon replies. You swatted him with the kitchen towel hanging from the pocket of your apron, your mouth falling into an open-mouthed laugh. Sunghoon just laughed more. “Do what I said,” you scolded him.

Sunghoon pulled you down to chastely kiss your lips. “Yes, ma’am.”

That night as you were getting ready for bed, you gathered all the courage you had. As you moved about your bedroom, Sunghoon watched you from the bed, his eyes trailing your figure and never leaving it. He was lounged up against the bed frame, his head tilted and the wire frames of his glasses low on his nose bridge as he stared. You were in the middle of brushing your hair, trying your best not to get crushed underneath his heavy stare. You were as bare as you could be without taking your clothes off.

When you stood from your vanity, the flowy fabric of your short nightgown moving with you, you met his gaze. For a moment, neither of you spoke and you just stared at each other. “Those missing girls…” you started, finally finding your voice, “on the news… Isn’t it odd that they favor me?” Your voice shook slightly and you swallowed down the lump forming in your throat.

Sunghoon sat up straighter, his eyes still on you as his brows drew together. You looked away, shakily climbing into the bed next to him. “I-I mean… how they favor each other. And I favor them too, don’t you think?” you continue. You really hoped that you didn’t sound crazy. That your time alone in the house hasn’t started to drive you mad and see things that aren’t there—that aren’t true. Finally getting settled as the words poured from your mouth, you looked over to him. For a split second, his face was completely devoid of anything—no emotion, not even a quirk of his eyebrow, nothing. Then, in a blink of an eye, his face was how it was before you looked away from him. Maybe you were crazy after all.

“I’m scared, Sunghoon,” you said in the gentlest whisper, “What if I’m next?”

“Missing girls?” Sunghoon says, “I’ve heard about them. But, don’t worry—” he reached over to caress your cheek “—I won’t let anyone hurt you. You’re safe here, with me.” His hand on your cheek trailed down to the crook of your neck and then to your shoulder before he pulled you towards him. The two of you laid down onto the bed and Sunghoon enveloped you completely in his arms. You rested your head on his chest and listened to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. “No one but me will ever touch you,” Sunghoon muttered against your hair.

His comforting words did nothing to dispose of the uneasy feeling you still harbored. The images of those missing girls were burned into your mind and every time you tried to close your eyes and sleep, you saw them staring back at you. While Sunghoon fell fast asleep, him still keeping you protectively in his arms, you lied awake.

Your mind shifted from the missing girls, to the moving dolls, and to the dollhouse. What did it all mean? What were they trying to tell you? You went over the scenes portrayed over and over and over again and still didn’t get it. The answer seemed so close, but so far away at the same time. What were you missing?

You thought about the scene of Sunghoon standing over you while you slept. Did he always do that, stare at you like that? How often did he do it? You wanted to ask him, but you didn’t want to risk him thinking there was something wrong with you—didn’t want to risk him thinking that you weren’t flawless like he believes. And the way he trailed his fingers over the soft skin of your arm… Perhaps it was just him checking on you. Maybe he left the room for some water and when he came back he was making sure you were okay. Yeah, that sounded logical.

Him touching you wasn’t something new—he always touched you at any chance that he could. Always admiring every curve and plane of you completely, it’s normal for him to do so. The tension in your shoulders finally dissipated and you relaxed, snuggling more into Sunghoon as you let your tired eyes flutter closed. You didn’t know what the dolls’ game was, but you didn’t like it. Sunghoon was just being a good husband, is all. It even showed subconsciously in the way his hold on you tightened as you leaned into him. He loves you. He’d never do anything that came remotely close to hurting you, ever. You were more sure about that than you were sure about anything in the entire world.

Slowly, you began to drift off—your body getting heavier and heavier in his arms—and you let sleep overtake you.

A couple hours later, you were suddenly awoken by the sound of something falling onto the hardwood floor. You jumped, eyes flying open. You were met with the cold bed, Sunghoon nowhere to be found in your bedroom. Sitting up, you looked around the room to see what fell.

You sighed as your gaze landed on the doll, it was laying on its side on the ground, staring at you. “Enough,” you said lowly, another sigh pulling from deep within you. “I don’t know what you all want from me.”

The moonlight peeked into your bedroom through the curtains and gave a little light to see with in the dark. You slipped from the bed, deciding to see where Sunghoon was. Smoothing down your bedridden hair and wrinkly nightgown, you opened the door to your bedroom and was immediately met with another mini doll version of you waiting by the top of the stairs. You couldn’t keep doing this.

You passed the shelves on the wall filled with dolls of you and other trinkets as you made your way towards the stairs. You didn’t even give the doll a second look as you made your descent down them.

Sunghoon wasn’t in the kitchen either, but there was another doll there, pointing down the hall again. You tilted your head up at it and followed its directions. He wasn’t in the lounge room or the dining room either. You turned the corner in the hallway and your eyes landed on the closed dollhouse. It was backlit by the hallway sconce, the light making the dollhouse look illuminated.

You dipped into the living room and Sunghoon wasn’t there either. None of the bathrooms were occupied as well. You were convinced that he just wasn’t in the house at all. You stood in front of the dollhouse, annoyance coming off you like steam. Your arms were folded across your chest and you glared at it. It was closed this time, and you were deciding on whether it was not to play into the dolls’ game and open it or just go back to sleep and question Sunghoon in the morning. Alas, you were too curious for your own good.

You slowly opened the front of the dollhouse, expecting to see some confusing scene waiting for you inside. Instead, there was only one doll inside—the grotesque looking one covered in different scraps of fabric. It was in the same exact place that it was in earlier, except this time there was no doll of Sunghoon inspecting it. It was alone.

Taking a closer look, you tried to figure out where this mystery room supposedly was in your home. In the dollhouse, it was located between the living room and the hallway bathroom. You looked at the hallway you were currently standing in with its own mini dollhouse inside. Your brows knitted together in even more confusion. According to the dollhouse, the room should be right where you were standing.

That couldn’t be right, unless the room was in front of you and behind the wall where the dollhouse was displayed. Closing the front of the dollhouse, you moved closer to the wall, inspecting it. There was no outline of a suspected door, no uneven floorboards that could suggest the entrance was underneath you. There was only the hallway, the small bookshelf filled with your cookbooks and Sunghoon’s doll making books, and the dollhouse. You placed your ear against the wall; maybe if there was a room behind it you could hear something.

After a few moments, you almost gave up, deciding not to play the game anymore and just go to bed. But, right when you were about to lift your ear from the wall, you heard something—humming.

It was the same tune you hummed earlier, the same tune Sunghoon hums when working. The same tune Sunghoon hummed when the dolls showed you him working in the dollhouse. This time, you knew it was real. You stumbled backwards from the wall, your elbow knocking the doll over that was suddenly perched there. You gasped before quickly covering your mouth.

Frozen in fear, you swear you heard the humming abruptly stop. You then heard slight creaking, like someone was walking towards you. Scurrying back around the curve of the hallway, you peaked around it to see if anything else would happen.

What if Sunghoon wasn’t even in there. What if it was some stranger living in your walls, and you were just assuming that it was him—that the dolls thought it was him. Or, maybe they were trying to warn you of the stranger in a way that they knew you would listen. What if Sunghoon wasn’t in the house at all right now? Your hand pressed harder into the wall and you began to shake.

More creaking broke through the air, and you watched as the small bookshelf slowly began to push off the wall like a make-shift door. You ducked further behind the wall, just enough to ensure you weren’t seen. You saw a shadow dancing across the floor as the bookshelf slowly closed again.

You were so scared they could hear how fast your heart was beating. So sure that they could feel how hard you trembled through the floor. Hear your heavy breathing like a hawk listening for its prey.

The shadow got larger and you saw a figure start to be illuminated by the light on the wall. A hand reached from the shadows and towards the doll of you that had fallen over—Sunghoon’s hand. He stepped into the light and you could finally see him clearly; saw the way the warm light bounced off his skin, the way the light reflected off his glasses, and how his dark hair fell into his eyes. You pressed your fist to your mouth to keep quiet.

Why did Sunghoon have a secret room in the house? Why did he never tell you about it?

He fixed the doll; shifting its dress so it laid properly and flattened its messed up hair. You saw the corners of his mouth raise as he placed the doll back on the shelf above the dollhouse. It’s big eyes bored into you.

Without a sound, you made your way back to your bedroom as quickly as you could. You closed your bedroom door silently and slipped back into bed, willing your body to stop shaking and your breath to even out. You closed your eyes.

You tried to remember what the inside of the secret room looked like from the dollhouse. From what you could remember, it looked to be some sort of workshop, similar to the one Sunghoon would have at the shop. If it was just a simple place for him to carve dolls, why hide it? It was possible he kept it hidden so you wouldn’t worry about how much he was working. Sunghoon knew how much you disliked him getting obsessed with his work, always carving and shaping dolls until the tips of his fingers were scarred. You relaxed again.

You’d be upset and worried, yes, but he didn’t have to hide it from you. You would understand his dedication to his craft.

A couple moments later, you heard the door knob twist. As you heard Sunghoon’s footsteps near you, you hoped you looked like you were still asleep. His presence covered you like a blanket. Just before you could feel the heat of his fingertips on your skin, you turned to look at him.

With false sleepiness in your voice, you ask, “Why are you out of bed?”

Sunghoon smiled down at you, lightly shaking his head. His hand caressed your shoulder, “Don’t worry about it, my love. I was just getting a jumpstart on work so we could have more time together. Go back to sleep.” His voice was soft and gentle, like he was trying to lull you back to sleep with his voice alone.

You sat up more. “Well, I’m not tired anymore,” you say, a smile pulling at your lips. Sunghoon’s hand at your shoulder raised to smooth your hair before coming to your chin to lift it up. He leaned forward and delicately pressed a kiss to your lips. “No?” he asked in that same soft and gentle voice.

Sunghoon was already climbing on the bed and on top of you before finishing his question. He placed more delicate kisses around the edges of your mouth, his hands dipping lower. You shook your head. His hands slowly lifted your nightgown up your stomach. “You’re sure you aren’t tired anymore?” Sunghoon asked, the corner of his mouth raising ever so slightly. He was lifting the nightgown over your head so you were in nothing but your panties underneath him.

Light giggles left your mouth as you shook your head again, “Yes.”

Sunghoon’s fingers hooked underneath the hem of your panties and he slowly pulled them down your thighs. His eyes were completely focused on the way each tug revealed more and more of your cunt and how it glistened with the strips of moonlight coming through the window. You heard him exhale softly, like he couldn’t believe what he was witnessing. “Fuck…” he muttered lowly, “I don’t think I’ll ever get use to seeing this, and it’s all for me to admire.”

He fully pulled your panties off and tossed them somewhere to the side of the bed. Sunghoon spread your legs open and pushed them up towards your chest so he got an even clearer view—just like he always did before taking you apart. He moved his hands so they splayed out on the back of your thighs right near your pussy he was still admiring. You squirmed a little, the air suddenly cold on your skin and from laying there completely open for him as you waited. “Entirely,” you said hushed, looking up at him. His glasses reflected the moonlight and covered the look in his eyes. “It will always be all for you—I’ll always be all, entirely yours.”

You gasped, body jolting when a thumb was pressed into your eager cunt. Sunghoon ran his thumb along your folds, collecting the gathering slick that was forming by the second. Bringing his other thumb to your cunt, he spread you apart even more, like he wanted to watch the arousal drip out of you himself. A soft whine left your lips. You were completely naked and under your husband’s watchful eye while Sunghoon was still completely dressed. He hasn’t even pulled his pajama pants down despite the way you saw him strain against the thin fabric.

“Is that so?” Sunghoon asked, his gaze finally flicking up to you. The corners of his mouth twitched upwards and you inhaled sharply when you finally saw that all too familiar dark look in his eyes. It reminded you of the way people dissected animals, excited to see its insides and how the body worked. Just beneath it you saw his intensely desperate, fiery hot need for you. The two expressions folded on top of each other over and over like an endless piece of paper, like he couldn’t decide what made him more excited. But, you knew which one would win tonight—which one always won.

You nodded slowly at his question. After all, no matter how bitter the idea of perfection tasted in your mouth, it was nothing compared to the sweetness of your husband’s love. It overshadowed everything, clouded your mind until you could think of nothing else. You lived for it, you’d do anything for it—to keep it. And Sunghoon, he loved you for it. So, the cycle continued until you forgot what the bitter aftertaste even belonged to.

Was it so wrong for you to love the suffocating attention he gave you once he wasn’t busy? Maybe. Maybe you should feel some shame for how obsessed you were with Sunghoon. But, at least you knew the feeling was mutual. If it weren’t, you wouldn’t be surrounded by a house full of dolls that looked nearly identical to you made all by his hands. Right? Doll making was a labor of love, and Sunghoon never shied away from showing you how much he loved you.

Sunghoon leaned over you. You felt his arms brush against your thighs as he pushed his soft pajama pants down. His face hovered over yours and you stared at him with big, doe eyes. His lips brushed against yours, pulling away slightly when you tried to chase them. Sunghoon tossed his pants and boxers to the side and you felt his cock slap against your thigh, sending a wave of arousal throughout your entire body. The entire time, Sunghoon’s eyes never left yours. “Like my own, personal little doll,” he continued, his voice low. “The real thing, not any of these flawed imitations. Complete perfection, and all under my hands to do with as I see fit.”

His lips captured yours in an unexpectedly rough, hungry kiss. He moved further over you until his body shadowed you. His hands were on either side of your head as he pinned you to the bed with his body, the kiss deepening and growing hungrier. Sunghoon pulled away from you, lips plumped and wet with saliva that still connected his lips to yours. He tenderly caressed your cheek and asked, “Do you know how much I love you?”

With his other hand, Sunghoon grabbed his cock so he could line himself up with your entrance. He quirked a thick eyebrow as he waited for your answer, eyes trailing the way your chest rose and fell heavily and your breasts pushed more against his own chest. “How much,” he continued, slowly slipping the tip of his cock inside you, “I’d do for you? How I’d do anything?” Your mouth fell open as your back arched slightly at the action. Sunghoon’s gaze returned to you, his hips halting once his thick tip was completely inside you. “Do you?” Sunghoon asked you once again, his heavy gaze weighing down on you.

Your husband liked to dissect things. He liked to break things apart and put them back together all shiny and new. It’s what he couldn’t help but do to you every night. It was the only time he liked you to be messy, when you were laying in a heap of doll parts beneath him. He tried to be gentle with his curiosity, he really did, but it was as if something overtook him. That dark look in his eyes got bolder until he couldn’t hold himself back—until he just had to tear you apart. You used to be scared every time it happened, still not learning to expect it. You should be ashamed that you did let it happen. But, as time went on, you began to like being taken apart; began liking how each time you’d blink away the fog, you were more perfect in his eyes.

Nodding, you inhaled deeply. “I do,” you say quietly, meeting his swirling dark stare. “And I love you just as much. I’d do just as much.”

“No,” Sunghoon spoke plainly. You drew your brows together, confused. “The way I love you, it’s… cavernous. Deep and dark—pitch-black. There is no end, no beginning, it just is.” His hand trailed down to your chin. “It consumes me, my love for you. I can’t control it… I can’t control the things I’d do to ensure you’ll always love me. And you will… won’t you? Always love me?” Sunghoon asked, his eyes boring into yours.

“Yes,” you say meekly. Despite the way Sunghoon’s body blocked the little light in the room, you could still see the way he fought the darkness inside of him. “I’ll forever love you. There’s nothing that would ever change that, Sunghoon. I promise.”

Sunghoon’s body relaxed over you, and his eyes briefly fluttered shut as he shakily breathed in to further calm himself. “Good…” he muttered, his voice barely loud enough for you to hear despite him being so close. “Because sometimes… The thought of you no longer loving me… i-it drives me completely insane.” His grip on your chin tightened and he bent down to sloppily kiss your lips. Sunghoon’s lips slowly worked against yours, like he was using you to calm himself even more. Like he was basking in your love for him like you did with his love for you.

He pulled away, just enough that with each word from his mouth, his lips brushed against yours. “It makes me want to rip you limb from limb. Polish all the parts so you can see it—see how much my love for you breaks me apart.” With a harsh thrust, Sunghoon pushed himself into you completely. You cried out, the sound being muffled by his lips so close to yours. Your nails dug into his shoulders at the action. Sunghoon pulled out of you until just the fat tip of his cock remained inside. With each word, he thrusted into you. “My sweet love, my perfect wife, my doll.”

Loud gasps rang from your mouth and Sunghoon took your hands from his shoulders and pinned them above your head with one of his own. His eyes never once left yours. He wanted to see how you cracked and shattered beneath him. He wanted to witness it. Sunghoon trailed his other hand down the side of your face, his thumb running over the soft skin of your cheek before it moved closer to your mouth. His eyes shined when he dipped his thumb into your mouth and you eagerly swirled your tongue around it, his own mouth opening. Sunghoon’s pace slowed as if he was remembering himself. The languid strokes drove you crazy and your hips lifted off the bed to gain more friction.

It was a constant back and forth of back to back harsh thrusts that felt like it was splitting you open to slow, sweet thrusts that had you begging for more. With your arms pinned about you, you couldn’t even really move besides the slight lift of your hips, and they could only lift so high with how close Sunghoon pressed himself into you. He had complete control over you; over how you moved, how deeply and at what pace you felt him, and over what sounds you made with his thumb in your mouth. Your eyes began to get glassy with how much you wanted him.

You guessed that you liked being used—liked being his toy, his plaything. You guessed that you liked feeling desired, feeling like his doll. You glanced around your bedroom, back arching and loud, unashamed moans falling from your lips at the way Sunghoon fucked you. It felt as if every single doll was looking at you, watching you. Watched you succumb to your husband and watched as the cracks in your porcelain body began to crumble. Watched how you loved every second of it. How wet it made you to the point that Sunghoon was slipping in and out of you with ease and how the vulgar gushing sounds bounced off the walls.

Sunghoon’s pace slowed and he watched how his cock slowly disappeared into you before he slowly pulled it back out and examined how it dripped with your arousal. A soft chuckle left his parted lips as he did it over and over. You clawed at his arm still holding yours above your head, a loud whine came from the bottom of your throat and your body shifted in any way that it could to feel him deeper, to have his cock drag against your walls faster.

He replaced his wet thumb with his mouth, completely silencing your moans and whines. Sunghoon’s mouth worked slowly against yours once again, soft groans vibrating against your lips as he kissed you.

“You feel so good,” Sunghoon whined, barely able to get his words out before his lips were back on yours. He let out another moan, his shallow strokes growing quicker. “Taking everything I give you so well, my love. It’s like your body was made for mine.” Sunghoon finally let go of your arms, giving your body some space as his lips traveled down to your chest. He left wet kisses all over it, teasingly kissing around your perked nipples while you dragged your hands through his hair and pulled at the tips of the strands. Everytime his lips touched your skin it felt like white-hot coals were being placed on you where they touched. Sunghoon looked up at you over the rim of his glasses, lips pressed to your skin with a hint of a smile. “Do you feel good, darling?”

Sunghoon’s hips picked up speed, just barely, but enough to make your head spin wildly. His pace was agonizing and you were sure your frustration showed in how you tugged harder at his hair and pulled his head back and the way your hips pathetically raised to meet his. Sunghoon’s mouth opened and he let out a laugh. “Please,” you begged him, your eyes filled with unfallen tears, “please.”

He sat up, lips brushing against your skin one last time before he pulled away. Sunghoon pushed down on your hips with his hands to stop them from moving, his own still continuing at that agonizing pace. “Please, what?” he asked, head tilted to the side as he watched you squirm beneath him and claw at the bedsheets. “What are you begging me to do to you?”

You whined when his hands moved up to your waist and sent tingles throughout your body. Through your blurry, tear-filled eyes you could see his smile. Pitiful moans escaped your mouth and your chest rose and fell so heavily you would’ve thought you weren’t breathing at all—instead trying to gasp in gulps of breath. “Please,” you begged again. Sunghoon inhaled sharply at the way you clenched down on him, at how your whiny moans filled his ears and the way the corners of your eyes flooded with tears. He halted his movements and pulled out of you completely.

“No, no, no!” you cried and leaned up to reach for him. He pushed you back down to the bed gently. Sunghoon’s own breathing picked up as his wet cock hovered over you. He took one of your hands in his and guided it towards it. “I’ll continue once you can tell me—” his breath hitched once your hand wrapped around his thick length “—what you want.” Sunghoon guided your hand up and down his cock slowly, his hand tightening on top of yours so you squeezed him more. His breath shuddered as he watched your hand work, his stomach tightening every time your hand squeezed his mushroom tip. He moaned again at how easily your hand slipped over him from your arousal, and his moans grew louder when he’d move his hips to force your hand back down his length again and again.

“Tell me…” he breathed out, his eyes fluttering closed, once you still didn’t give him an answer. Sunghoon’s hands laid flat against the back of your thighs—right next to where you needed him the most.

“I… I-I want you…” you stuttered out, voice small. Sunghoon hummed in question, bringing his thumb to your clit. He rubbed circles into it at the same speed he moved his hips. You gasped, back involuntarily arching off the bed. Your hand paused mid-stroke of his cock before his hips rutting against it stirred you back into action. “Closer…” Sunghoon says through a grunt, “but, I’m going to need more than that from you, my love. Don’t you want to be good for me and do what I asked?”

A soft whine left his lips when you squeezed a little too much at the base of his cock. “I want to hear those pretty moans of yours as I fuck you with my cock… see your pretty face as you cum around it. Won’t you give that to me? Do you really want to settle for my fingers tonight, darling?” Sunghoon continued.

How could you tell him what you really wanted? Explain the deepest desire that you had right now? He told you about his inner battle with how much his love for you consumes him. He told you the things that it made him want to do. You wanted him to let go and do it. You wanted him to wipe you clean so you watched it all—saw it all. Enough with holding back—like he tried to do every single night without fail. It was no use when you both knew what was coming. You wanted him to lose control. You wanted that swirling darkness in his eyes to take over. You wanted him to do what he said he wanted to do if you didn’t feel the same way he felt about you. How do you express that to him?

“Do it…” you say, your words coming out strained. A sweet moan left your mouth and you looked him dead in the eyes as the tears finally slid down your hot cheeks. “I w-want you… to do it.” Your voice was just above a whisper, loud enough that only his ears could hear your words despite being the only two people in the entire house. You squeezed down onto his thick cock more as your wrist worked harder. The hand he wasn’t using to rub circles into your puffy clit grabbed your thigh tighter, his fingers surely leaving indents into the plush skin. Sunghoon’s head hung lowly as he tore his gaze away from yours and went back to watching your hand.

Sunghoon plunged two fingers deep inside your dripping entrance and you felt like you could finally feel the oxygen reach your lungs. He pushed them in and out of you, his gaze flicking over to his movements instead of yours to relish in the way his fingers came back out more and more wet. As his fingers curled inside you, causing breathy moans to leave your willing lips, you watched the way his stomach tensed and his hips faltered. Without saying a word, you could tell what was running through his mind right now. You could see his eyes grow more and more darker, fill up more and more with desire. Sunghoon finally looked back up at you, his wire-framed glasses low on his nose bridge. “Do what?” he asks, his voice just as quiet as yours was.

You didn’t have to say anything else. Sunghoon’s hips froze and his stomach tightened even more as a pretty moan ripped straight through him. His eyes fluttered shut, his fingering waned and you lifted your hips to chase his hand. Sunghoon’s warm cum shot all over your stomach and splattered up to your breasts in thick spurts. He let out another moan, this one dragging out from deep within him as his body finally relaxed. You helped him through it all—hand never stopping as he rode out his high and marked more of your stomach with his cum until you were painted a creamy white and he was completely empty.

His eyes blinked open and he looked down at how messy you were. Something in his demeanor shifted as his eyes grazed over you and you couldn’t tell what had changed until he looked at you. You inhaled sharply at his stare, your breathing picking up. His own chest still heaved from his recent release. Sunghoon took his wet fingers out from your cunt, taking a moment to drag them through your folds to spread your arousal even more, all while his eyes never left yours. Gone were the barriers that held him back, that darkness took him over full force.

Meek whimpers escaped your lips and you dug your nails into the bedsheet beneath you. “You like being my doll, don’t you?” Sunghoon asks. His voice was almost flat, and he was still speaking in that hushed tone. His expression was decidedly blank except for the subtle way his brows drew together. “Don’t you?” he asked a little louder when you didn’t answer him. His hands squeezed the back of your thighs and his fingers dug into the soft skin there. You timidly nodded, not daring to look away.

His hands relaxed and his thumbs brushed over where his fingers dug into you comfortingly, his eyes finally leaving yours. Sunghoon grabbed his cock and rubbed his flushed tip in between your folds, the wet sounds it made piercing the silent bedroom. “You know,” he starts, his voice no longer so low, “you really are truly flawless, doll. My muse…”

Sunghoon is already slipping back inside you before you can process the way his thick cock completely stretches you open. You cry out as more unshed tears fall from your eyes. He continues, “It angers me how much I can’t capture you fully. How none of these dolls can compare to the real thing—the real you. It makes me… so angry…”

He’s pulling back his hips as he speaks, the tip of his cock just barely leaving your pussy, before he roughly thrusts his cock back inside of you. Another loud moan emits from you and your vision blurs from more tears as your face gets hot. You could barely hear Sunghoon’s wry laugh over the sudden ringing in your ears.

Sunghoon’s pace is brutal, and you’re suddenly regretting whining so much about how slow he was once going. It gave you whiplash, how fast he fucked into you, and the only thing you could do to keep yourself grounded is tightly wrap your hands around his wrists at your hips. Your arms smeared and got sticky with his cum but you didn’t care. With each thrust, your body shook and pushed you further into the mattress. With your iron-clad grip on Sunghoon’s wrists, your tits pushed together and bounced in accordance with his hips against yours. Sunghoon was fucking you like he wanted to break you in half.

“S-Slo—” you tried to speak but was cut off by the waves of sudden pleasure hitting you one after the other. Sunghoon just shushed you, his hands pulling your hips towards his so you’d feel him deeper. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and you couldn’t think about anything other than the way he was making you feel so, so good. You wanted to feel this way forever. Wanted him to stay lost so you never escaped this feeling of immense pleasure. Wanted him to use you to take out his anger at himself—at you—like you meant absolutely nothing, just a doll for him to handle and put back in its place.

You adore it, the way he makes you feel.

Such nasty sounds fill the air, but neither of you could bring yourselves to care about it. If anything, it turned you on more just how loud and demanding to be heard it was. With how much the sounds of the sex the two of you were having penetrated your ears, you would’ve thought that you’d be getting multiple noise complaints at any moment. You both definitely weren’t trying to be quiet in the slightest.

Between your moans, you heard Sunghoon speak. “I want to take you apart, carve into you like I do my dolls, but this time make something real. Have you be so perfect forever.” His voice was almost scarily plain, like he thought this over time and time again before. You blinked away tears and finally got a clear view of him and the way he stared down at you with a hint of a smile, head tilted as he watched you crack and begin to fall into yourself. “Forever my perfect little doll, to bend—” he pushed your knees closer to your chest so you were practically folded in half “—and to break—” he roughly thrusted into you once more, his hint of a smile growing into a smirk as you clenched down on him “—and to put back together and play with as I please.”

“Sunghoon,” you sobbed as your stomach tightened and you started to shake. You didn’t get the chance to get another word out before you were violently orgasming, your cum pouring out of you and leaving a white ring around the base of Sunghoon’s cock as he roughly fucked it back into you. Wet, gushing sounds came from his cock plowing into your pussy and your cum poured out from around him and down the curve of your ass. You could scream at the sudden overstimulation.

“That’s my girl,” Sunghoon says as he watched you shatter. He used your hands still limply wrapped around his wrists to pull you up off the bed and halfway into his lap, his cock still buried within you. One of his hands supported your back and the other came to wipe the tears from your cheeks. “Pretty dolls don’t cry.”

Sunghoon brought your hands to his shoulders and you held tightly onto the soft fabric of his shirt. His own hands dragged down the expanse of your stomach and he wrapped one of his arms around your back. Sunghoon lowered his head so he could look you in your eyes, his free hand lifting your chin to raise your head more. “I love you,” he murmured, pausing a beat to make sure you heard him, before roughly moving his lips against yours and cutting off one of your watery whines.

Your hands moved from Sunghoon’s shoulders to wrap around his neck and pull him closer to you. You deepened the kiss, letting Sunghoon open your mouth so his tongue could slip in and dance with yours. You’d give anything to keep his lips on yours forever.

Sunghoon began to thrust into you again, his hips moving slow at first before they rapidly picked up pace. You moaned against his lips, your eyes squeezing shut. You felt Sunghoon’s lips pull into a smile, “I love you so much.” He said it like it was a confession.

Head falling into the crook of his neck, you cling to him tighter with your last remaining strength and whimper into his warm skin. Your body shook all over until it felt like you might explode. It felt like Sunghoon kept repeatedly turning and turning the winding key in your back, going way beyond the motor’s limitations. It made you nervous for when he would let go and you would burst into action.

His deep moans and grunts rang in your ear and his arm around your back tightened. With his other hand, he pulled you back so he could look at you. Your face was tear-streaked, splotchy with drying tears and you tried to not cry even more. Your brows were knitted together from the overstimulation and whimpers fell from your lips. Sunghoon’s cum stuck to your stomach and your forearms and parts of his shirt, your own cum covered your pussy and Sunghoon’s cock. You were a mess.

Over and over, three words came from Sunghoon’s lips like a mantra as he filled you up with his cum to the brim and past that too. “I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I—”

Finally, silence rang through the air besides both of your heavy breathing. After another moment, your body finally stilled. The silence was so thick that you felt like you couldn’t move at all. Delicately, like he held the shards of you in his hands, Sunghoon laid you back down onto the bed. He pressed feather-light kisses to your jaw and cheeks before they finally landed on your lips.

You were so overwhelmed with emotions and feelings that you couldn’t feel anything at all. Your head was still foggy and your only penetrating thoughts swirled around him. Despite your eyes being wide open, your vision was cloudy.

Sunghoon kissed you again. “Stay here,” he says, pushing away from you. Your arms fell to your sides limply. He leaned back and pulled his cock out of you, eyes shining with adoration at the way yours and his mixed cum spilled out and dirtied the bedsheets. Sunghoon rubbed the tip of his cock through it a couple times, ignoring how you squirmed and whined. “Absolute perfection,” he said under his breath before standing to his feet.

You laid there on the bed, still spread open and a mess of cum, as your eyes went in and out of focus. When the clouds in your vision did part, all you saw were all of the dolls and how they stared at you. Sunghoon came back a couple moments later, his face coming into focus as the moonlight bounced off his glasses. He climbed over you and began cleaning you up.

You were barely aware of the way he meticulously made sure every nook and cranny was polished nor how he moved you to put new bedsheets on the bed. Your mind didn’t start to come back to you until he was pulling you over him and sitting you onto his cock. You came alive at his hands trailing the expanse of your body before landing on your hips. You moaned quietly, your gaze dripping to look down at him. The darkness in his eyes was not quite all the way gone.

Sunghoon brought you down to lay on his chest. “I could fuck you all night…” he trails and his voice vibrates throughout your whole body as he shallowly thrusts up into you, “and into the morning, too.” His hips stilled and instead his fingers caressed your back. “But then we wouldn’t have the full day together, would we, my love?”

You shook your head slightly and Sunghoon wrapped an arm possessively over you before pulling the blankets overtop of you both, his other arm caging you against him completely. As the moonlight filtered through the window of your bedroom, the two of you slowly fell asleep.

In the morning, you were awoken by kisses on your neck and your pussy fluttering around Sunghoon’s slow strokes. He lifted your leg into the air and you turned your body towards the warmth at your back, blinking away sleep. You hummed, a soft whine pulling from your throat as you looked at him.

His glasses were off, which let you know that it hadn’t been long since he woke up himself. Sunghoon leaned down to press his lips to yours, his cock still dragging at a snail’s pace against your walls. “Are you sore?” he asks, pulling away from your lips to kiss your shoulder.

You nodded. Him still inside you, lazily fucking into you felt good, but you couldn’t ignore the way he stretched you open and the deep soreness that came from it. “A little,” you say.

Sunghoon turned you onto your back so you laid beneath him and he pulled out of you completely. “I’m sorry, my love,” he says and his lips meet yours again. “Let me make you feel better.”

He kissed your lips once more and started trailing kisses down to your jaw and along the length of your neck. Sunghoon looked up at you through the strands of his black hair, kissing lower down your body to your breasts, his hands massaging them as he kissed at your perked nipples. Soft moans left you at his touch.

His kisses spread to your stomach, to your hips, and finally right above where you were already wet for him. He spread your legs open more. “I’ll be gentle,” Sunghoon says, placing a kiss to your clit before his tongue poked out to lap at your entrance.

Without Sunghoon around, the idea of perfection was bitter on your tongue—acidic in your chest. But, when your beloved husband was around, finally in your arms again, you understood why people strive for it. You love it.

If perfection was how Sunghoon saw you, then you’d forever be the most absolutely perfect person, woman, wife you could be.

Days pass and you are once again left alone in the vastness of your home. Sunghoon stood true to his word as best as he could, spending as much time with you when he didn’t have to work, but it still wasn’t enough. The house still felt empty, and the occasional early nights when he would come home didn’t help.

It felt like the early nights home he took came at a price. Most nights when he would finally walk through the front door, you were already asleep or close to it. He would wake you up with a kiss and a content sigh. It made your chest ache even more than it already did when he is away.

You were in the middle of washing the dishes, mind trailed off to someplace else as you idly let the sounds of the TV float around you. “The search for the six missing girls is still going strong. Police still has not found the perpetrator, but an interview earlier with the Chief says that they are very close to finding out who has taken these girls. Our anonymous tip hotline is still up and running for anyone who may have any valuable information on where these girls might be.”

The words brought you back to life, and you gasped quietly as you looked towards the tiny screen. You examined the bold numbers at the bottom of the screen. It reminded you of the secret room behind the dollhouse that you completely forgot about. You quickly finished the dishes, leaving them in the strainer to dry completely as you dried your wet hands.

Slowly, you took quiet steps towards the hallway where the dollhouse was displayed. You looked to the front door to ensure that it was still locked. Sunghoon could walk through it at any moment and you didn’t want him to know that you knew about his secret workshop before you had the chance to see what was inside.

You recalled the way the door to the room opened—the pushed opened small bookshelf that revealed the make-shift door. You tip-toed to the bookshelf, examining its sides and the books on it.

You didn’t really look at the books on the bookshelf besides your own cookbooks. Sunghoon’s doll making books were something you rarely touched, if at all. But, you took a hard look at those too, your fingers running over the spines. They all felt like books, the spines hard and sturdy, but something about them still felt off to you. You looked at Sunghoon’s books again, pulling each one out a little to take a peek at the covers.

In the middle of you pulling one of the books, you heard a quiet click and the bookshelf came loose from the wall. You took a step back, shock showing all over your face. Gently, you grabbed the side of the bookshelf and pulled.

The bookshelf creaked open and revealed an opening that you had to bend down a little to enter. When you stepped inside the surprisingly large room, your eyes did a sweep of what was inside. You froze, your stomach dropping as you stared at what was in front of you, absolutely horrified. You didn’t even really know what was in front of you… It looked like an amalgamation of various body parts, stitched and sewn into one. Its skin was weirdly shiny, almost like it was made of some kind of plastic or resin while still keeping its elasticity.

You disregarded the rest of the room, instead taking careful steps towards the strange creation in front of you. It didn’t look neither dead nor alive and that confused you even further—it barely looked human. Its eyes and lips were sewn shut and it was completely hairless. It was held up onto its feet by long strips of silk hanging from the ceiling that was tied around its naked body. Next to where it stood was a table with thick locks of hair tied with ribbons of your favorite color.

Maybe this was the final crack in your mind and it was crumbling completely, but it kind of looked like you too. Even the hair on the table matched yours perfectly. If you looked past all the stitches, the weird shiny skin, and the lack of hair, it almost seemed like you were looking in a mirror. It looked like an unfinished, life-sized doll of you. Your stomach turned in on itself.

The fear in you raised tenfold in you when it started to twitch. You took a couple steps back from it when it began to pull on its restraints a little. It seemed to start to panic and its shiny arms pulled at the restraints keeping it up even more as it tried to reach out to you. You jumped back more, fearful tears filling your eyes. Your mouth opened to speak, but no words would come out.

The uncanny creation tried to speak, though, before realizing that its mouth was sewn shut. When it began to frightfully hum—the sound off tune and terrifying—did your body start to feel heavy and limp. It pulled at its restraints with all the little strength it had as it reached out to you and began to hum wildly… it hummed Sunghoon’s melody, the one he hummed when he worked.

Realization hit you like a tsunami. Not only was you dear husband making dolls of you, but he was trying to make a real, life-sized human doll of you. And it seemed that every part of this surreal creation was taken from another until it resembled you as close as he could get it. Your mind flashed to those six missing girls—the six missing girls that all looked eerily similar to you. Despite having all the puzzle pieces right in front of you, your mind refused to see the whole picture.

You backed up further, the back of your thighs hitting the desk that was against the back wall near the make-shift door. You twisted towards it, chest heaving as you scanned the scattered papers and opened books. You picked up what looked to be a journal Sunghoon kept and read over the open page with trembling hands.

The entry remarked at how the experiment was working well and how none of the body parts were rejecting like they did before. He praises how the process was much smoother than last time, how the girls he chose were the perfect fit. The journal dropped from your hands.

Those girls going missing due to Sunghoon was no longer speculation. Your eyes snapped back to his “experiment.” It must be those poor girls, their bodies sewn into one to look like you. You still didn’t want to believe it.

Tears poured from your eyes as fear sunk its claws deep within you and forced its way down your throat and into your heart. Your entire world came crashing down around you and quiet sobs left your mouth as you fought against the idea that your husband wasn’t who he said he was—that he was a kidnapper, a killer.

You rushed forwards, your arms raised towards his creation before you wrapped them around yourself and remained a safe distance. “No!” you exclaimed as you rapidly shook your head. “No, this is all a misunderstanding—a mistake! Sunghoon wouldn’t do this… He isn’t that type of person!” You wiped at your eyes, almost believing your own words until you dropped your hands.

Dolls completely surrounded the peculiar creation—Sunghoon’s experiment. It was even more that the ones that surrounded you in the hallway when they were showing you the scene in the dollhouse. They all looked at you for a moment before slowly turning to look up at how the amalgamation of stolen girls thrashed towards you, still frantically humming.

The dollhouse.

It was a warning. Those scenes the dolls showed you… it was all a warning. This was what they were trying to tell you this entire time. This wasn’t just any ordinary experiment for Sunghoon, a dollmaker going completely mad in his craft—no. This experiment was for you. He was using these girls, tearing apart their bodies limb from limb and creating some freakish doll of them that was meant to be you. It was practice… He was doing all of this so he knew exactly what to do when he laid his tools down and cut into the real thing. You were next.

Sunghoon’s words rang in your ears and bounced around in your head: “I want to take you apart, carve into you like I do my dolls, but this time make something real. Have you be so perfect forever.” You finally understood it now.

Suddenly, all thrashing ceased and the humming finally abruptly stopped. The only thing that filled the silence was your muffled sobs. “I’m sorry,” you cried, unsure if it even heard you. “I’m so sorry.”

You stumbled towards the opening of the room and barely missed hitting your head on the way out. You didn’t even wait for the bookshelf to click back into place before rushing through the hallway and to the kitchen. For once in your entire life, you hoped that Sunghoon had a long night at work.

Nearly falling into the kitchen counter, you shakily grabbed the landline on the wall. Those bold numbers of the anonymous tip hotline flashed behind your eyes and you rushed to put in the numbers, putting the ringing phone to your ear. “This is the anonymous tip hotline for the six missing girls. Please only share useful tips that could help a breakthrough in the case. Do you have any information to share?”

Your breathing came out heavy and you tried to force the oxygen to reach your lungs, inhaling sharply as you tried to find your words. “I… I-I think my husband kidnapped those girls…” you breathed in a whisper. The woman on the other end of the line started talking, but your focus was abruptly taken when you heard another, more familiar voice behind you.

“Something scare you, darling?” Sunghoon asks, his voice gentle and filled with worry. You couldn’t tell if he was being genuine.

You jumped, pressing further into the kitchen counter as you spun in place, the phone leaving your ear. Sunghoon sat at the kitchen table, his thick brows knitted together. You didn’t even hear him come back home. Despite the landline being away from your ear, you still heard the woman on the other end asking you questions, frantically asking if you were still there. You were completely frozen.

Sunghoon rose to his feet and the stove light illuminated him. You saw him differently now. No longer was he your loving husband, he was something else. Still, you hated the way your heart soared when you locked eyes on him. How your body relaxed, even in the slightest. You hated how you felt complete now that he was here and how you wanted to run into his arms.

He crossed the short distance to you, his arms coming to rest against the counter on both sides of you. You inhaled shakily now that you and Sunghoon were face to face. Without his eyes leaving yours, Sunghoon took the phone from your quivering hand and hung it back up on the wall. His arm returned to its position next to you, completely caging you within his arms.

Sunghoon leaned his forehead against yours. “I thought I told you that you had nothing to be afraid of, not when I’m here.” His voice was still gentle—soft—and it was lowered as he moved one of his arms to take one of your shaky hands in his. You wanted to pull away from him and wrap your arms around him simultaneously. You felt exhausted.

You voice shook, “Y-You kidnapped those girls, didn’t you? Turned them into… into…” Sunghoon drew back to look at you, his head falling to the side as his brows pushed together. His confused look made you start to question if you had been imagining everything—the dolls, the dollhouse, the hidden room, the experiment. “Into… what?” Sunghoon asks.

“...Into me!” you exclaimed, more tears running down your already wet cheeks as you choked out a sob. Sunghoon’s hand tightened around yours. “You killed them… and who knows how many others! Am I next? Are you going to kill me too?”

Sunghoon let go of your hand so he could cup your face with both of his hands, his thumbs wiping underneath your eyes to get rid of the fallen tears. “They aren’t dead!” he says. “And I swear to you that I’ll never hurt you, my love. You know that. Think of them as… reborn.”

You started to tremble in his arms and tried to shift away from him, but Sunghoon wouldn’t let you go anywhere. “Is that what you’re going to do to me? Was all of this—” you gestured around the room at all the dolls of you sitting pretty on the various shelves around the kitchen “—just practice for the real thing?” you spat out. You tried to move again, but Sunghoon’s hands dropped from your face to your upper arms to keep you in place.

“No!” Sunghoon started, his voice coated in disbelief that you would even ask him that as he shook his head. “No… can’t you see? This—” he used a finger to motion around the kitchen at the dolls “—is a reflection of how much I love you. My devotion to you. You, above anything else, above everything else. A peek inside my mind and how the only thing in there is you.”

“A-And that experiment of yours—the missing girls? Behind the wall?” you asked.

“That… is my dedication to you—m-my oath.” Sunghoon was completely desperate. He pleaded with you, his eyes wide and begging you to believe his words. His eyes were watery, like if you didn’t believe him he might cry as well, and he looked at you over the rim of his wire-framed glasses that slipped down his nose bridge.

You didn’t know what to believe. Didn’t know what to say. You just wanted to go upstairs with Sunghoon and lay in your bed and forget about everything that you’ve witnessed as he held you close to his chest. It was all too much, and your resolve was starting to crack and shatter. You wanted to smooth down your wrinkled dress and fix your messy hair, but Sunghoon didn’t let you move a single inch in fear that you would run from him. You couldn’t tell which one of you was more terrified.

His hands slid down from your upper arms and down to your hands, grasping them so tight that it started to hurt. “Come… Come with me…” he trailed, gulping thickly. You stared at him with wide, frightful eyes, suddenly unwilling to move, but Sunghoon desperately pleaded with you. He looked like he was seconds from getting down onto his knees. “Please,” he begged, pulling you into him, as his voice cracked. “You know I’d never do anything ever to hurt you.”

Sunghoon took a step back, hoping that you would follow after him, and you did. You let him guide you down the hallway all the way to the bookshelf and into the room behind it, his grip on your hands never once loosening. He led you in front of the uncanny image of you that he created. “I know how it looks,” Sunghoon says, his voice hushed. “But there’s no pain, no sorrow, nothing.”

It didn’t try to reach out to you like it did earlier and all the dolls that once surrounded it were gone. It didn’t hum that out-of-tune, terrifying version of the melody Sunghoon hummed when he worked either. It just hung limply from its silk restraints. “It just is,” Sunghoon continued. “And when it’s fully done, and completely polished, it’ll be flawless.” He delicately took your chin and guided your head to the side so you looked at him. Your body finally stopped fighting against itself and you relaxed in his grasp. “Like you are.”

Sunghoon leaned forward, hesitantly pausing to look at you again before bringing his lips to meet yours. He pulled you into him, his body wrapping around yours, and you timidly invited him in.

His lips felt so good against yours, and you knew that once you parted for air you’ll miss the feeling of them forever until he kissed you again. It felt right—it felt like home. The home where the two of you were always together and he held you like he was holding you now—like he was afraid that if he let go he would lose you. That if he didn’t hold you like a delicate porcelain cup you would chip and crack and shatter. And you would.

When Sunghoon’s lips moved against yours like they did in this moment, everything fell into place. All your worries slid off your back and for a brief minute, it was just the two of you in the whole wide world. Nothing existed but him, and his body enveloped in yours, and his touch that made you burn. And the flames danced so beautifully for him, didn’t they?

Just when you were about to pull away to quell the heaviness in your lungs, you felt a sudden sharp pain in your neck. You hissed, breaking away from Sunghoon’s lips just barely. Sunghoon chased your lips, holding the back of your head and pulling you closer against his body as he kissed you harder.

You whimpered against his lips, your nails digging into his arms as you tried to free yourself from his vice-like grip. It was no use, Sunghoon was never going to let you go. You felt your body grow heavy in his arms and he had to hold you up. Your vision began to spot black and fray around the edges, and your ears rang terribly. Just before you passed out completely, and over the ringing of your ears, you heard Sunghoon’s muffled voice as he kissed your neck where the pain stemmed.

“I love you. I love you so much that it hurts, I truly do.”

You fade in and out of consciousness as time passes around you. Sometimes you see blurred glimpses of Sunghoon, sometimes it's just an array of colors until you black out again.

You aren’t sure how long it’s been when your eyes finally do open and you remain conscious for good. Blinking away the blurriness in your vision, you examine how you're laying on the couch in your living room. Your entire body aches and it feels stiff. Your head is pounding and you almost close your eyes again to ease the pain you feel. You notice how you’re in different clothes and there’s a blanket over top of you. Too late do you notice the figure in your peripheral, and your eyes shift to look at them.

Sunghoon hovers over you, his expression a chaotic mix of hopeful, relief, and worry as he stares down at you. He’s wearing different clothes too, and his hair is a complete mess, like he’s been running his hands through it, and his glasses almost slide completely off his face. “Are you here, my love?” Sunghoon asks quietly. His voice sounds slightly hoarse.

You give him a confused look, pushing the blanket off of you and crying out from the pain you feel as you try and sit up. Sunghoon rushes to your aid, tossing the blanket to the side without a single thought, and helps ease you to your feet. Your gaze drops to your legs as he helps you stand and you notice how weird they look—shiny. There’s slight indented lines at your knees, too. You look at your arms and they’re the same.

You look doll-like.

Once you’re steadily on your feet, Sunghoon moves a step back to take you all in. You notice how done up you are and when you carefully raise a stiff and sore arm to your hair you feel how it’s styled. Your gaze lands on Sunghoon’s face, his eyes meeting yours.

His eyes are shining—completely full of love and pride. You’ve only seen him look like this when he first came to you with one of the dolls he made that looked the most like you, and when the two of you are in bed and his fingers are gently caressing your skin as he admires you. But, it was even more intense than in those scenarios. Confusion clouds you and you wait for Sunghoon to say something, and he does. One singular word.

“Perfect.”

[ kipo’s note . . . ] would it be wrong to say how i absolutely #needthat #desperately… like hehe yes i’ll be your perfect doll for you forever and ever and ever (๑´ω`๑)

𖥦 ﴾ 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗎𝖾 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗈 . . . 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 , 𝗺𝗮𝘀𝘁���𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 , 𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 ﴿ ︵͡   𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙙𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 (´ε｀ʃƪ)♡

🏷️﹙ 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝖺𝖽𝖽𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗆𝗒 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗆𝖺𝗇𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝖺𝗀𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍? 𝖼𝗅𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 ﹚ @jjunberry @gothgyuu @gyuuberries @hyukascampfire @xylatox @ghstzzn @izzyy-stuff @sunoosgfv @jihyokat @whosserina @jellymochii @innocygnet @sumsumtingz @riribelle @yeoningz @minaateez @beombunni @jiryunn @lvrs-street2mmorrow @everythingvirgoes @beomieeeeeeeeeeees @fancypeacepersona @deobitifull @tinycatharsis @strawberryshoujosundae

© jjunbug - all rights reserved. do not repost on any social media or sites, translate, or modify any of my works.

[colorlessjay]

S6 Dean finds a gray hair on S16 Cas and pokes fun at him. Cas has fun with how repressed Dean is in retaliation. 😏

Ya know something

I like to think that when Dean discovers a grey hair on Cas and makes fun of him for it, Cas shrugs it off, even rolling his eyes at how childish it was

"You make it sound as though it's a bad thing" Cas would say, pushing his hair back only to show more greying hairs that are usually hidden. "They are physical proof of change and aging. Both things I am proud of and get to share with my family"

And obviously, Dean feels like a dick for teasing him about it

But deep down I think seeing Cas age is scary for S6 Dean cause it means he can die. That he's not all the way angel. Aging means eventually, Dean is gonna lose him...

but he's not gonna voice THAT

[aidansloth]

Late Nights On Kitchen Floors Sometimes Lead To Confessions

Summary: You come home late one night to find your roommate Jason sobbing on the kitchen floor.

Warnings and A/N: some negative self-thoughts on Jason’s side. In this fic Jason is feeling a lot of feelings :) because we love our men crying and traumatized. Pre-relationship! This is my first time writing for Jason so I hope I did him justice. Written in the second person, gender neutral reader, I tried to make reader as inclusive as possible so if I missed something please let me know! JUSTKNOW that my heart broke while writing this. (final note, I wrote this at 4am so don’t judge me)

Words: 0.9k

I also posted this on ao3 if you want!!

Click

You secure the last of the locks on your door as you start to take your boots off along with your coat. Immediately as you stepped in your mind went into autopilot, following your routine so effortlessly that only after what was definitely too many seconds do you notice a heaving sound coming from your kitchen. 

“Jason?”

The words leave your mouth with a tinge of hope that it was just him and not a break-in you’d have to deal with at this ungodly hour in the morning. You check the time with a flick of your phone. 2:14am. 

You receive no response and reach for the bat Jason insisted you left hidden in the umbrella stand. You can never be too safe were his exact words and you’d honestly have to thank him if you made it out tonight. It’s only when you cross the door that you see him: Jason and all of his 6 feet of muscles are scrunched up into a wavering ball, his hands clutching his clothes and his head planted into his knees. All this time you’ve known him and yet he has never looked as vulnerable as he does now, on your dusty crumble-covered floor with tears in his eyes. 

At first no words come out of your mouth, how could they? You’ve talked to Jason just a couple of hours ago on your phone, he called saying he just wanted to hear your voice. He was fine earlier. He was. He asked how your day was. He listened, hanging off your every word. But now here he was in front of you, a broken shell of a man.

Trying to not startle him you get closer and call out his name again. This time he hears you.

He lifts his head and you can see smudged tear stains all over his face probably from an attempt to erase them. An hiccup escapes him and your heart breaks. 

“Oh baby,” you scooch in front of him and take his face in your hands. 

“What happened? What’s wrong?”

He can’t speak. The words are jabbed in his throat, threatening to suffocate him. He opens his mouth but nothing other than a strangled sound comes out. You start petting his hair.

“Hey, hey, it’s fine, you don’t have to say anything alright?” 

You settle on the floor and try to maneuver his body onto yours, his head on your shoulder. His body adapts to yours, his arms wrap around you and he feels like everything is going to be alright. One of your hands runs up and down his spine in a soothing manner while the other is nestled in his hair. 

A couple of minutes pass and you’re still holding him. Jason thinks he likes it. Being held, that is. 

After some more time his head lifts from your shoulder and your hands move to his forearms, caressing the skin there. He takes a deep, shuddering breath before speaking.

“I, ehm…” Jason’s gaze lays low and his hands start to play with yours. “I have to tell you something.” 

You nod and tell him to take his time. He bites his lip, still looking down. 

“I- Fuck, I messed this up. I really did. This was gonna be so much more romantic I swear. I was gonna- I was gonna invite you to that one bookstore we always go to, I was going buy you all the books you set your eyes on and- and I planned a walk through the park- the one- the one you like-” his voice keeps breaking and hiccuping, “-and walk through the flowerbeds and maybe if the day had gone well I would have had the courage to hold your hand.” he wipes a tear off his face with the palm of his hand. 

You try to speak but he speaks first.

“I like you. I really really like you. I wanted to do this well, tomorrow, but- I don’t know. I got too much in my own head and I’m-” Jason bites his lip and tears fill his eyes again, “I’m really sorry this is how I confess, you deserve so much better, so much better and I’m a mess and, and-” you grab his face and force him to look at you. 

“Jason Peter Todd, you listen to me carefully.” his big teary eyes look at your stern ones, “The only reason I’m not kissing you right now is because you deserve a beautifully romantic first kiss because you like beautifully romantic things. You deserve all the wonderful things this world has to offer.”

Jason thinks his heart has never felt so warm. 

“Wha-what?”

His words make you giggle and now he thinks his heart might actually implode. 

“I like you.”

“I like you too.”

Now your giggle turned into a proper laugh which made Jason smile. 

“Yeah, that was pretty obvious from the earlier declaration of love.” Now he’s giggling too. 

“Does that ehm- does that mean you want to be my girlfriend?” You giggle again at the innocence in his voice and Jason thinks he’d die all over again just for a chance to hear you laugh one more time.

“Yes, yes it does. Only if you take me to that date you were talking about though.”

He smiles. “We could go now.”

Your eyes widen. “Now? At 2am?”

He shrugs. “I’m Red Hood. Nothing bad is gonna happen.”

You scoff. “Yeah alright, but I think the bookstore might be closed.”

“Ah. Right. Tomorrow then.”

“Eager?”

His smile only gets bigger. “Duh, I have a girlfriend to take out.”

Thank you for reading!! Constructive criticism/advice is always welcome!

[jadeshifting]

— WAITING ROOM IDEAS.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

the underwater grotto

the skybound library

the retro bowling alley

— THE UNDERWATER GROTTO: A WAITING ROOM OF SUBMERGED SERENITY

when you first arrive, it’s not with a splash but a weightless drift. the world around you is suspended in a quiet, shimmering blue, as if you’ve stepped into the embrace of the ocean itself—but don’t worry, you can breathe easily here. the water is more like liquid light than anything else, wrapping around you in a way that’s both warm and cool at once. it carries the scent of salt and the whisper of something ancient, like the world has been waiting just for you

THE GROTTO’S HEART. at the center of this space is the grotto itself, an expansive underwater cave sculpted by time and tide. the walls glisten with iridescent corals and bioluminescent algae, casting a soft, shifting glow that dances over every surface. stalactites drip with glowing pearls, and when you run your fingers over the walls, they hum softly, as if the grotto is alive

a large, smooth rock—almost like a natural daybed—rests in the heart of the cave, cushioned with lush, silky sea moss that adjusts perfectly to your shape when you sink into it. little fish, impossibly small and glowing like stars, swirl lazily around you, as if they, too, are waiting for something. the water moves with you but never against you, carrying you into the perfect state of weightless relaxation

SMALL, IMMERSIVE DETAILS

THE WATER’S EMBRACE. it’s not cold or suffocating—it’s soft, intentional. it moves around you like an extension of your own energy, never heavy, never overwhelming. you can float in it endlessly without ever needing to surface

SOUNDSCAPE. no overwhelming noise, just the distant song of whales, the occasional soft crackle of coral shifting, and the rhythmic lull of water moving through unseen tunnels. if you focus, you can even hear the hum of the deep sea’s energy

BIOLUMINESCENT LIGHT. the glow isn’t harsh—it pulses gently, like the heartbeat of the ocean. whenever you move, the water glows around your fingertips, tracing your presence in soft, shimmering ripples

HIDDEN NOOKS & CRANNIES. if you explore, you’ll find small alcoves filled with treasures—polished sea glass, old ship trinkets, and even delicate shells that whisper to you when you hold them close

A PORTAL OF ENDLESS POSSIBILITY. when you decide to be in your DR, a large, glowing veil of water appears at the grotto’s entrance. it doesn’t ripple like normal water—it moves like silk, waiting for you to step through. the moment you do, you find yourself in your DR

CUSTOMIZATION & PERSONALIZATION

GUARDIAN/COMPANION CREATURE. maybe a massive, lazy sea turtle that watches over you with its intelligent eyes, or a pod of dolphins that whistle and chirp excitedly when you’re about to enter your DR

KEEPSAKE. a glowing pearl or a carved piece of driftwood that you hold onto tightly, feeling like it grounds you every moment you’re there and is always waiting when you get back

DRINKS & TREATS. a goblet of glowing, sweet nectar that leaves a lingering warmth in your chest, a pearl-encrusted platter of sushi or sashimi, a crystal bowl of shrimp cocktail

A MIRROR POOL. a shallow, moonlit basin where you can gaze at yourself—not just at your physical self, but at your deeper energy and all the possibilities you can embody

ENTERING YOUR DR

when you feel ready, you don’t have to do anything drastic. when you think about your destination, the water will shift around you, pulling you gently toward the glowing veil. the grotto sighs—a promise that it will always be here when you need to return. as dappled light dances around you, moving towards the rippling curtain of light, you pass through it in only a few moments

on the other side, you realize you’re there

this waiting room is pure immersion, a space where time doesn’t rush you, where the water itself cradles you in preparation for your journey. it’s designed to be peaceful, fluid, and weightless—a soft transition between realities that feels like an extension of your own energy

— THE SKYBOUND LIBRARY: A WAITING ROOM OF INFINITE STORIES

you arrive with a gentle weightlessness, as if you’ve stepped off solid ground and into the open embrace of the sky. there’s no harsh wind, no fear of falling—just an endless expanse of soft, golden clouds stretching infinitely beneath you. the air is crisp and cool, tinged with the scent of old parchment, ink, and something subtly sweet, like vanilla and aged wood. above, an eternal twilight sky swirls with soft hues of violet, pink, and deep indigo, with stars peeking through like distant fireflies. before you, the library reveals itself

THE LIBRARY’S HEART. towering bookshelves stretch impossibly high, spiraling into the sky, growing like trees. made of dark mahogany and golden filigree, their surfaces are inscribed with delicate constellations that shift and realign every time you blink. some bookshelves float freely, drifting through the air like islands, while others form grand hallways and sweeping balconies

the books themselves glow faintly, some pulsing like they contain a heartbeat, others humming softly when you pass by. each one is a portal, a fragment of a different world, holding stories that have been told and those yet to be written.

SMALL, IMMERSIVE DETAILS

THE AIR ITSELF FEELS ALIVE. when you breathe, it fills your chest with a gentle hum of energy, a subtle reminder that this is a place of boundless possibility and knowledge

FLOATING STEPS & BRIDGES. there are no rigid pathways here—if you wish to go somewhere, the air itself solidifies beneath your feet, forming shimmering glass-like steps that guide you. some lead to secluded reading nooks, others to grand observatories where you can watch shooting stars carve their way across the heavens

A DESK THAT KNOWS YOU. near the center of the library, a massive circular desk carved from celestial marble awaits you. whenever you approach, it shifts and rearranges itself, offering exactly what you need—perhaps a blank notebook for scripting, a cup of warm jasmine tea or rich cinnamon-spiced cocoa, or a book containing the wisdom you’ve been seeking ( even if you didn’t realize you were )

SOFTLY GLOWING LANTERNS. suspended in midair, floating paper lanterns illuminate the space, each one carrying a whispered dream or memory from your desired reality. If you listen closely, you might hear echoes of stories that you haven’t been told yet, or lives you didn’t know you were going to live

A LIBRARY CAT… OR SOMETHING ELSE? a small, mischievous creature—perhaps a sleek black cat with glowing eyes, or it might be a tiny dragon made of ink and stardust—wanders the library, curling up beside you whenever you need reassurance. it doesn’t speak, but somehow, you always understand each other

CUSTOMIZATION & PERSONALIZATION

YOUR PERSONAL BOOKS. with your name embossed on the covers, volumes that contain all of your scripts, records of your journey and all of your experiences, so you can look both backwards and forwards

A TELESCOPE. in the highest tower of the library, an ornate golden telescope allows you to see glimpses of your desired reality, as if you are peeking through a tear in the universe. you can feel closer to your special people and look forward to your experiences, while also dispelling any nerves you may have by seeing it from afar ( like dipping your toes in )

A HIDDEN READING NOOK. a space just for you—perhaps a velvet window seat with endless cushions, a hammock woven from clouds, or a grand armchair that shifts to fit your comfort. think of it like your sanctuary within the sanctuary

ENTERING YOUR DR

when you decide it’s time, the library knows. you hold a single book, different every time, in your hands. its cover glows with a faint golden light, and the moment you open it, the words begin to swirl, lifting off the page and wrapping around you like a warm breeze. the ink stretches outward, forming a shimmering doorway in the air—a portal made entirely of words and possibility

you step through, and just like that, you’re there

this waiting room is designed to be infinite yet intimate, a sanctuary in the sky where knowledge, magic, and dreams intertwine. it’s a place that doesn’t just prepare you for your journey—it celebrates it, reminding you that every shift is just a new chapter, and you are the author

— THE RETRO BOWL: A WAITING ROOM WITH OLD-SCHOOL CHARM

the air is warm and faintly scented with buttered popcorn, leather seats, and the sharp tang of a well-waxed bowling lane. overhead, glowing neon signs hum softly, casting a dreamy pink-and-blue glow over the space. a jukebox in the corner spins vinyl records with a warm crackle, crooning out old-school rock, jazzy swing, or whatever tunes suit how you’re feeling. the floor beneath you is that classic checkerboard tile—smooth, cool, and impossibly clean despite decades of history. you can hear the rolling thunder of a strike and the distant ring of an old cash register, as if the place is alive, but waiting just for you

THE ALLEY’S HEART. stretching ahead, the lanes are pristine, their wooden surface glowing under rows of dimmed, flickering lightbulbs. each lane seems to go on forever, disappearing into a hazy golden glow at the far end, like they might just lead somewhere else entirely

the best part? there’s no pressure to play unless you want to. you can roll a ball and watch as it slides effortlessly into a perfect strike, or you can just sink into a booth and soak in the atmosphere. here, everything works in your favor

SMALL, IMMERSIVE DETAILS

YOUR LOCKER. off to the side, a row of old-school metal lockers stands waiting. one of them has your name on it, and when you open it, you’ll find whatever you need—maybe a comfy bomber jacket, a pair of custom bowling shoes, or even just a little note written in looping, vintage cursive that simply says, “see you soon.”

MAGIC SCOREBOARD. even if you’re not playing, the massive retro scoreboard above the lanes flickers with little messages just for you—reminders, affirmations, or even details about the DR you’re planning on going to

A SHIMMERING BALL RETURN. the bowling balls themselves are something special—one is deep violet with tiny constellations twinkling in its surface, another has a swirling ocean trapped inside. when you roll them down the lane, you catch glimpses of different realities reflected inside before they return, waiting for another turn

SNACKS & DRINKS. a cozy 1950s-style diner counter sits to the side, where a friendly ( weirdly familiar and slightly mysterious ) attendant hands out thick milkshakes, warm pretzels, and soda in shiny glass bottles. everything is exactly how you feel like you remember it—whether that’s a real memory or something straight out of a dream

A SECRET DOOR BEHIND THE JUKEBOX. if you run your fingers along the edge of the jukebox and press the right button, the wall beside it shifts. a door, lined with glowing pinstripes, slides open to reveal a hidden lounge—maybe a plush speakeasy-style room with velvet chairs and low jazz, or maybe something even stranger… a back alley leading straight into your desired reality. whatever you’d like, it’s your secret space

CUSTOMIZATION & PERSONALIZATION

YOUR BOWLING NAME. up on the old-school leaderboard, your name is displayed in flickering neon letters. maybe it’s your CR name, maybe it’s a nickname or your name in your DR, or maybe it’s a totally out-of-left-field alias that you only use in this in-between place

YOUR LUCKY BOWLING SHIRT. hanging near your locker, there’s a retro bowling shirt waiting for you. it’s embroidered with something meaningful—maybe the name of your hometown city in your DR, a lucky number, or the initials of your DR name or your s/o’s name

ABSTRACT BOWLING PARTNER. you’re not alone here. whether it’s a comforting but shadowy figure you never quite see or a laughing companion who seems to be made of light and always lands a perfect strike, there’s someone keeping you company. they might even prompt you excitedly, “you ready to go?” just before you enter your DR

ENTERING YOUR DR

when you decide it’s time, the lanes darken slightly, leaving only one lit up in a neon glow. the air hums, the jukebox plays something that feels just right, and a single bowling ball appears at your feet—this one shimmering with a portal-like swirl. your roll it, smooth and easy, and as it glides down the lane, the pins at the end don’t just fall—they dissolve into light. the entire space stretches, the ceiling fades into a cosmic expanse, and suddenly—

you’re there

this waiting room is designed to feel like a warm, nostalgic pocket of time—somewhere that’s both familiar and surreal. it’s a place where the past lingers in the best way, where every sound and detail is tuned for your comfort, and where shifting feels as smooth as rolling a perfect strike

PNG CREDS: @florietas @snailspng @bydollita @ioveartfilm @s4dpngs @treasuregamble

[metranart]

My one and only wants you, so he’ll have you (Part 13)

(Sukuna centric chapter)

ft. Sensei! Gojo Satoru, sensei! Suguru Geto, reader insert, slight! Megumi x reader, slight! Sukuna x reader..

Gojo Satoru and Suguru Geto happily married, you, their lovely student and the cause of their ragging temptation. The problem: their son, Megumi, your best friend.

𖦹 Warning tags: Sukuna centric in this chapter. Gojo x Reader x Geto, threesome, married couple, Suguru and Gojo happy married couple, polyamory, Teacher-Student Relationship (everyone is an adult).

-

"...If I recall correctly, you and I have some unfinished business, pookie."

Ryomen Sukuna.

You had no chance against the King of Curses, much less now that he came to collect. The way he licked his lips made your skin crawl, his grin sharpening when you gulped hard.

“Oh, I see,” he smirked, “you actually thought I would forget,” his tongue tsked, head slowly denying. “I haven’t stopped thinking about our ‘deal’, not even for a single second.” The words were stitched against your cheek, still being inside his possessive embrace allowed him to abuse the closeness with borrowed lips. Kissing each word against your soft skin. “I want what you promised me for my silence…” an impertinent hand slid unceremoniously under your skirt, those sharp black nails leaving a red trace on the tender skin of your inner thigh in their path, “so… spread these pretty legs for me.”

Your breath caught inside your lungs, today was pay day, and you weren’t ready.

It didn’t matter how much you pushed against him, desperately searching for a glimmer of breathing room, it was like trying to move a freaking wall. The more you tried the more he stuck to you. His amused features almost unbearable.

With a desperate growl, you slapped a hand against his mouth and felt the sharpness of his canines as he laughed at your pathetic attempt. Was this your attempt to escape? Your fight or flee response? Such laughable actions.

"Are you suddenly shy, pretty?" his mockery deliberately accurate to bruise your pride, your cheeks painted but the curse couldn't identify if it was anger or shame, ".... it's not that I don't find your pathetic resistance adorable, but unfortunately, I have not a minute to spare, so..." he gestured with his fingers, spreading out the index and middle for you to imitate with your legs and your head shook out of your control.

"It doesn't have to be there," you tried not to make it sound like a pitiful plea, "...I agreed to let you put your cursed seal on me, Sukuna-...but you can put it on my arm, or my ankle-"

"It has to be hidden so he doesn't destroy it..." Sukuna explained with a hint of apathy, before his tone sharpened with mockery at your amusing confusion, "...you know, your six-eyed lover."

Gojo, you thought, but soon a more alarming thought invaded your mind, something you should have questioned before even making the deal, but at that moment you were so desperate to keep your skeletons inside the closet, out of Megumi's sight, that you were careless and stupid...your lips trembled, and the obvious question you hadn't asked came urgently out of your mouth.

".... What’s the seal for?"

Sukuna smirked, your eyes flicked from his eyes to his mouth, where the dim light of the room caught the curve of his smile, indicating the information was irrelevant to you, he didn't have to tell you since you owed it to him, but just for the fun of it.

"It gives me control." 

Was all he said.

"-control over me?"

That smile twisted his mouth again, his silence frustrated you, and you seeped, glancing away from him as the reality of what you have accepted finally set in.

"That's for me to know," he muttered, "and for you to find out."

Before you could protest, his attention shifted to maneuvering you through your fighting, a shot of adrenaline pumped through you, maybe, you landed a few blows but regardless of your effort it felt like caresses to him. Those little hands of yours grabbing his wrists without success while he calmly lifted your skirt and slid two fingers under the straps of your panties, his sharp eyes ogling you as he -without breaking a sweat- rolled the fabric down your thighs despite your protests. Wicked attention drinking in your every expression.

"S-Sukuna... please-"

"We made a deal, princess." Sukuna reminded you, "I did my part, now behave like an adult and spread your legs for me."

Right then, you were grateful to be alone with him, the position he had you in was going to take a toll on your self-esteem. Curled up like a ball between his strong thighs, one strong arm around enough to immobilize you, while his other hand waited for your defeat. You had two choices before you: You, could fulfill your part of the deal and spread your legs…. or you could keep fighting and have him spread them for you.

Sukuna smirked pleased, and somewhat amused when resignation took you and you obeyed. When you came to terms with your own choices. Even he must admit, it tasted like glory, that without even having to insist, your body relaxed against his.

"Good girl." He praised, and his free hand appeared in front of your face, "open up."

After a scarce second od hesitation, you did, and his index and middle fingers breached your wet cavity. "Lick them," your tongue reluctantly obeyed, and Sukuna snickered low, this time deigning to give an explanation. "My fingers need to dwell deep inside you for the seal to… endure."

Despite your furrowed brow, your tongue glazed his digits and once your saliva coated each patch of skin, you watched in anguish as his hand travel down, sliding under your skirt, between your legs, up, up, where he greeted your bare pussy by tracing your slit, warm and dry. Not for long.

"Dammit, if we had more time-” the growl he emitted sounded too lewd for your taste, “-I would dethrone Gojo Satoru from your mind." 

The little huff of derisive laughter that fell from his smirking lips made an amused picture of his otherwise calm face and that flustered look of discomfort on your face, instead of amusing him, sent delicious shivers down his spine.

With a frown you kept your knees spread, as he explored, parting your folds playfully, making a V-shape of your slit with two rough fingers, enjoying the feeling of control before finally sliding his digits inside you. You mewled like a wounded cat and Sukuna held you tighter to him, his warm breath against the shell of your ear, his pleased growl tattooing itself on your brain.

"Relax for me, girl..." Your knee twitched, which he took as encouragement to keep going despite your loyalty to silence. His fingers crawled deeper until was knuckle deep, and there you felt it, heat, agonizing heat that felt inappropriately amazing. You end up biting your lip and soon, heard him snicker. "It feels good, doesn't it?"

The shape of his dick more noticeable against your ass by the second and you swore you could feel it throb under you. The throb became more palpable as time went on. You thought he was prone to fuck you. But apparently not. 

“…...—Damn this brat and his quickness to recover.” 

The King cursed under his breath and somehow, you knew he was referring to Yuuji, his vessel. Yuuji’s sudden unconsciousness granted Sukuna this slip, quick slip that now he was regretting for not being longer.

“Spread wider, princess.” 

You glanced up at him, nevertheless, did as instructed and not a minute after, his thick, thumb pressed against your clit, which was already swollen just from the residual sensation of his cursed energy, his rough pad against your bundle of nerves almost made you cry out, almost.

Sukuna shut his eyes in concentration, mocking grin pressed against your feverish cheek, trying to find the perfect pace for you—apparently his was too soft for your likings. Fuck, you were turning out to be more entertaining that he expected.

He made his thumb vibrate, easily breaking the, hard-earned, calm rhythm of your breathing, you tightened your grip a fraction, fingers curling around his pants, and yet, another twitch in your leg, then a deep exhale that ended in a shiver.

"You're close, I can feel it."

You felt his toned stomach shudder beneath you with the motion of your coming orgasm, and fleetingly considered inching a bit closer to him, maybe rubbing your ass against his hardon: If Sukuna came, would Yuuji wake up?

You took the chance, and smeared your ass hard until you heard him grunt and breathe more stiffly than before. A sudden kiss hastily came to tame you, an impossibly soft and tender smooch, came from this monster accompanied by a vivid threat. 

“I know what you're thinking... it might work," Sukuna conceded, but all hope faded away when you felt him smirk against your ear, "but what's worse: me, finishing my seal on you while making you have the most glorious orgasm of your pathetic existence or you, waking the brat while you are half-naked, him, shirtless and you at the verge of cumming inside his arms?"

That stopped you cold and with a macabre snicker, and a faint ‘smart girl’ he picked up speed. The adrenaline of being discovered putting more heat into you, as Sukuna made a purposeful attempt to drag his thumb down hard on your swollen clit with every jerk of his hand.

He had you singing pretty in mere seconds. The King of curses actually preferred you like that, all giddy and needy, even he admitted that nothing, absolutely nothing, turned him on more than watching a female come undone under his masterful touch. 

“Yeah,” he breathed thinly, his eyes drifting closed again, finally satisfied with your body response. “Just like that.”

Sukuna trapped his lower lip between his teeth just imagining how much fun it would be to see you go stupid on his cock. If only he had more time, but the brat was promising to be a party pooper.

Your pitiful and embarrassed moans made the King of Curses chest tight with excitement, as your legs fidget, out of the most sublime pleasure. Shit, he loved to see his lovers fight before submitting. Actually, lived for the moment when he witnessed her mind go slack, giving in to him—

Ryomen Sukuna was big in control, so much, that his own arousal was wetting the inside of his pants by now but was able to ignore it momentarily in favor of serving your needs and his plans.

“Aww, you like when I apply more pressure here, don’t ya sweet thing?” 

At some point your hips stuttered up to start meeting his fingers, fucking yourself in a much slower rhythm than he was fingering you. Sukuna had to use all his remaining will power to not bend you like a pretzel, then and there, and fuck the living out of you. How dare you drive him this needy with just some lazy pumps up into his fingers?! You, damn minx!

Instead, he snarled, low and deep, frustratingly digging his teeth against the line of your tense jaw, other hand hot on your breast. “No one's ever fingered you properly, I can tell-”

Your moans rose in volume to your horror, and Sukuna got a little lost in the moment, loving the feeling of overpowering you so completely, having you so willing just for him. Now, he understood Satoru Gojo, he still thought poorly of him, but… now he almost felt sorry for the bastard as well, since your mere existence felt like lust embodied. Not being able to touch you must feel like torture to him.

It was then he finally loosed a low and breathy groan. “—What do they call you?”

Sukuna ought to know, he had never paid you attention but now he couldn't look away, he wanted to know more, everything about you.

Babbling out a name, his name, your name? probably not.

“Try again.” He insisted, it was not usual for him to be this gentle while looking for answers, but he did it. He spared you more than a thought, more than a gasp, he felt hypnotized by the way you were coming undone. 

“Those pretty tears pricking your eyes, FUCK! —” 

Sukuna was forgetting his own schemes. The more he pressed his fingers against the inside of your stomach, that hidden button inside every woman that turned them into putty, the spot of pleasure swirling inside your gut. Hell, you couldn't even complain anymore, being so far gone—

“Fuck,” Sukuna sounded vaguely amazed, pleasantly thrilled at how well your body accepted him, “this slutty little pussy’s squeezin’ my fingers so tight. Sucking them in—”

You didn't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that he was driving you crazy with just his fingers and his sporadic kisses, but your body was betraying you, it had taken his side. Sucking his fingers and throbbing your walls around them, making you cum, one after another, after another. You were already a fucking squirting mess, sliding down your thighs and between your ass, so immersed in this sinful pleasure, that Sukuna had to use another method to get your attention again.

The King of curses smacked your throbbing clit as he bullied yet another finger inside you, smirking wildly at the fucked-out whine that fell from your lips.

“I asked you a question-….” Sukuna grunted displeased, “give me your name, princess… you still know how to speak, right?”

That infuriating smirk on his face, coupled with the way he squeezes another orgasm out of you is too much, if you were honest, you refused to give him your name, you wouldn't, at least you would keep that.

“Stubborn little thing, time's up.”

His fingers come out of you and the sound was too vulgar, that frustrating sucking sound, like a suction cup being pulled from a pane, your greedy pussy annoyed by the absence of his fingers and be forced to having to squeeze the cold nothing. 

A feral grin spread on Sukuna’s face while admiring his work of art. 

You, collapsed on yourself, sweaty and flushed, still spasming at the memory of the ravishing orgasms. Trying with all you might to calm your breathing and the excited beating of your heart. Almost didn't notice Sukuna crouching down, ogling you, thoughtfully analyzing you, drinking up every last sensation you have to give him, leaning down and uncovering your shoulder, to press his teeth into it. Your pained growl was expected, amusing him to no end, making him even more proud of his mischief.

"A souvenir of our meeting for your beloved Satoru Gojo, (Y/N)."

Your eyes widened in surprise that he knew your name, the amusement on his face nothing new as he held your ID between his fingers.

"(Y/N)(L/N), such a pretty name." It sounded more like a taunt coming from him, ".... by the way—"

He crossed his fingers, and an almost withering heat coiled inside your own body, it was scorching and unusually painful, leaving you numb for an instant. A bright light with a strange symbol traced itself across the skin of your tummy.

"The seal is activated."

Sukuna cocked his head to the side giving you one last look before spinning on his heels and saying.

"The brat is about to return; you have mere seconds to make yourself presentable... I recommend you use them.... (Y/N)."

He took a couple of steps, giving you some distance before Yuuji slowly took over, you quickly stood and fixed yourself as best you could, watching in despair as the tattoos abandoned Yuuji’s skin. You buttoned your shirt, fixed your hair and clothes, but you still felt exposed-....and that's when you noticed, where were your panties?

COMING SOON PART 14....

➡️🔞👀 NSFW art sneak peek

➡️ FULL NSFW ARTWORK OF THIS STORY

@dazzlingakaashi @bambiimani111

[satsugacafe]

𝐃𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐔𝐫𝐚𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐊𝐢𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐞 𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐇𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐏𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞…

➳❥ 𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭: If your requests are still open, can you do dating headcanons of Urahara Kisuke with a human with no powers like Uryu and Aizen :0? I really loved both of them!!!! They were so cute

➳❥ 𝐀/𝐍: Charmed that you liked the others I wrote for ☺️. For everyone whose favourite shopkeeper is a handsome guy without a Bankai. Enjoy!

➳❥ 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐱𝐭: Headcanons for what it’s like to date the eccentric shopkeeper as a normal human

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐍𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

˚₊‧꒰ა Urahara Kisuke always found humans fascinating. Not in the detached, scientific way he studied Hollows or other supernatural phenomena, but in a quiet, thoughtful manner. There was something refreshing about people who weren’t caught up in the endless cycles of duty, war, and spiritual politics. When he first met you—a completely ordinary human with no spiritual powers whatsoever—it intrigued him more than he cared to admit.

˚₊‧꒰ა You’d wandered into his shop out of sheer curiosity, finding it tucked away in a quiet corner of Karakura Town. He watched you from behind the counter as you examined the odd items lining the shelves, clearly puzzled by the peculiar collection of goods. He’d let you browse in silence before finally calling out in that lazy, sing-song tone of his, “Welcome! Looking for something in particular, or just lost?”

˚₊‧꒰ა At first, he treated you like any other customer, but your repeated visits quickly changed that. You came back, not because you needed anything, but because you found his company oddly comforting. There was a strange charm to him—part mysterious shopkeeper, part eccentric scientist. He made you laugh with his odd sense of humour and impressed you with his seemingly endless knowledge about random topics.

˚₊‧꒰ა “You know,” he said one day, leaning casually against the counter, “most people don’t stick around once they realise I’m not selling anything useful. What keeps bringing you back here, hm?”

˚₊‧꒰ა You shrugged with a small smile. “Maybe I like being here.”

˚₊‧꒰ა That answer caught him off guard. He’d always been good at reading people, but you were harder to figure out. There was no hidden agenda, no ulterior motive. You simply enjoyed spending time with him, and that baffled him more than he cared to admit.

˚₊‧꒰ა Over time, you became a regular fixture in his life. You’d stop by the shop with coffee, sit with him while he tinkered with strange gadgets, and chat about mundane things—work, weather, books you’d read. It was so normal it almost felt foreign to him, but he found himself looking forward to those quiet moments more than he expected.

˚₊‧꒰ა Tessai and the kids noticed the change almost immediately. Tessai would give Kisuke knowing looks while Jinta and Ururu whispered behind his back, giggling like mischievous children. Kisuke pretended not to notice, but he wasn’t fooling anyone.

˚₊‧꒰ა One evening, after closing up the shop, he surprised you by inviting you to stay for dinner. He claimed Tessai had cooked too much, but you weren’t buying that excuse. Still, you accepted, and it quickly became a routine.

˚₊‧꒰ა “You don’t have to keep coming around, you know,” he teased one night, passing you a cup of tea. “I’m not that interesting.”

˚₊‧꒰ა “You’re more interesting than you think,” you replied, giving him a look that made his heart skip a beat.

˚₊‧꒰ა He wasn’t sure when it happened, but somewhere along the way, he started to care more deeply than he intended. He caught himself worrying about you when you were out late or feeling jealous when other people made you laugh. It was ridiculous, really. He’d spent centuries dealing with life-or-death situations, but your presence made him feel…vulnerable.

˚₊‧꒰ა Kisuke being Kisuke, tried to keep his feelings hidden behind his usual playful façade. But you saw through him more often than not.

˚₊‧꒰ა “You overthink everything,” you told him once, poking him lightly in the forehead. “Maybe try feeling for a change instead of analysing everything to death.”

˚₊‧꒰ა That hit closer to home than he wanted to admit. You weren’t wrong—he’d spent most of his life relying on his intellect, keeping people at arm’s length. But with you, it was different. He didn’t want to keep his distance.

˚₊‧꒰ა Eventually, he stopped fighting it. One night, as you were leaving the shop, he called out to you just before you reached the door, he would nervously and uncharacteristically, ask you out.

˚₊‧꒰ა Dating Kisuke was anything but ordinary. He’d surprise you with elaborate dates—picnics under the stars, late-night walks through the quiet streets of Karakura, even impromptu trips to hidden parts of the town you never knew existed. He had a knack for making the mundane feel magical.

˚₊‧꒰ა “You really don’t do anything halfway, do you?” you teased once after he’d somehow managed to set up a candlelit dinner in a secluded park. “I like to keep things interesting,” he replied with a wink.

˚₊‧꒰ა Despite his playful exterior, you saw glimpses of the more serious side of him. There were moments when he’d stare off into the distance, lost in thought, or when he’d absentmindedly fiddle with his fan, a faint shadow of melancholy crossing his face. You never pushed him to talk about it, but you always let him know you were there if he needed to.

˚₊‧꒰ა “You have your secrets,” you said once, resting your hand on his. “I’m not here to pry. I’m here because I care.” That simple statement meant more to him than you realised. In a world full of hidden agendas and dangerous secrets, your honesty was a rare and precious thing.

˚₊‧꒰ა Over time, he opened up more, sharing bits and pieces of his past. He told you about the Soul Society, his exile, and the dangers lurking just beyond the veil of the ordinary world. You listened without judgement, accepting him for who he was—not just the brilliant scientist or the exiled captain, but Kisuke, the man who made your heart race with a single smile.

˚₊‧꒰ა “You could have a normal life,” he told you one night, his voice unusually serious. “You don’t have to get involved in all of this.”

˚₊‧꒰ა “I’m exactly where I want to be,” you replied without hesitation. “With you.” Those words lingered with him, a constant reminder that even in the midst of chaos, he’d found something worth holding onto.

˚₊‧꒰ა Doesn’t hide his emotions when you’ve done something that touched his ear. He might not verbally express it, but the blush and his explosive reaction tell you enough. Bring him a meal of food, and he’s telling Tessai that you’re the new chef in the house.

˚₊‧꒰ა Urahara’s affection was subtle but undeniable. He’d bring you odd little gifts—an antique key with no lock, a beautifully painted fan, or a box of sweets he claimed were imported from “a very exclusive supplier.” You’d laugh and tease him about his dubious taste, but the care behind each gesture was clear

˚₊‧꒰ა There were moments of danger, of course. Being close to Kisuke meant you weren’t entirely safe from the spiritual threats that loomed over Karakura. But he did everything in his power to keep you protected, even if it meant keeping you in the dark about certain things.

˚₊‧꒰ა While you’re asleep, he already had Tessai set up a new defensive system, telling the poor man to create some new Kido to protect you and your neighbourhood. Jinta and Ururu are placed to guard your house for extra precautions.

˚₊‧꒰ა Jinta had let it slip out during a visit that he was never guarding your house all night, ever again, and that’s how you came to learn that he’s been going above and beyond to protect you. Gave him a little scolding for it and told him to go easy on his kids.

˚₊‧꒰ა “You’re terrible at hiding things from me,” you pointed out once when he tried to brush off a particularly nasty injury. “You might be a genius, but you’re not a very good liar.” He chuckled, wincing slightly as you gently cleaned his wound. “Guess I’ll have to work on that.”

˚₊‧꒰ა For all his quirks, Urahara was deeply protective. You noticed it in the way his playful eyes sharpened whenever someone approached you too quickly or in how he always seemed to position himself between you and any potential danger, however minor. “Can’t have my favourite human getting scratched, now can I?”

˚₊‧꒰ა Melts when you still give him kisses and caution him to be safe. And Kisuke always takes everything up a notch—his way of masking his affected state—by asking for another or more good luck affections. He’s bold enough to ask for this to be a regular thing each time he has to head out, stopping by your house for his kisses.

˚₊‧꒰ა We all know he’s touchy, but when you’re the one giving him the physical affections, of a moment, his hyperactivity dies down and all the noise vanishes. He’ll melt into your touch, visibly turning into a puddle, murmuring about how good your hug felt. Cuddle him and watch as he turns into a giant baby.

˚₊‧꒰ა He probably can’t remember the last time someone was this genuinely affectionate towards him, so he clings to every drop of affection. Your kisses to his forehead, the way you cradle his head and run your fingers through them, how you hold him to your chest and baby him. It’s a feeling he never wants to let go.

˚₊‧꒰ა Your simple human touch adds colour to his bleak life. Something he likes to whisper when you’re asleep as he kisses your cheeks. “I don’t know what I’ll do should something ever happen to you. You’re the light in my life.”

˚₊‧꒰ა Despite the risks, you never regretted being with him. He made you laugh, challenged you to think differently, and reminded you that even in a world full of supernatural dangers, there was still room for joy and love.

˚₊‧꒰ა Despite his mysterious nature, Urahara was a man of simple joys. He loved lazy mornings where he could sit outside with a cup of tea, the brim of his hat tilted just enough to catch the sun. You’d join him, and he’d share random musings about the weather, the birds, or the peculiarities of human behaviour.

˚₊‧꒰ა He had a mischievous streak a mile wide. One time, he convinced you to help him with a ‘harmless’ experiment, which ended with you glowing faintly for an entire day. “You look positively radiant!” he exclaimed, clearly delighted, while you swore revenge through gritted teeth.

˚₊‧꒰ა “You know,” he said one night, pulling you close as you stood on the shop’s rooftop, gazing at the stars, “for someone without powers, you’ve completely enchanted me.”

˚₊‧꒰ა You smiled, resting your head against his shoulder. “Good. It’s about time someone outsmarted you.”

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @edensrose

©satsugacafé: no permission to repost, plagiarise, copy or translate my work onto any other platform or this one.

[pearlprincess02]

dating & dates (virgo version)

virgo: (virgo venus/mars/5th house/7th house)

when dating someone with virgo venus, virgo mars, virgo in the 5th house, and virgo in the 7th house, expect a relationship built on thoughtfulness, consistency, and deep emotional investment. they may not be the most overtly romantic, but they show love through acts of service, attention to detail, and genuine care. they appreciate reliability, intelligence, and a sense of purpose in relationships, valuing partners who are grounded and communicative. while they can be reserved initially, once they trust you, they become incredibly loyal and attentive. virgo venus expresses love through small but meaningful actions. they value stability and practical support over grand gestures, wanting a relationship that feels productive and secure. virgo mars is intentional in their desires, preferring a slow-burn attraction that builds over time. they enjoy a partner who stimulates them mentally and shares their appreciation for effort and routine. virgo 5th house finds joy in structured fun, intellectual activities, and anything that engages their analytical side. they prefer dates that involve learning, improving, or experiencing something meaningful together. virgo 7th house seeks a dependable and communicative partner. they want a relationship that feels like a true partnership, where both people actively contribute to growth and success.

date night ideas

cooking a healthy meal together at home, going on a scenic nature walk with deep conversations, visiting a farmers’ market & picking out ingredients for a meal, touring a botanical garden/greenhouse, going stargazing with a telescope & a cozy blanket, finding a cozy hidden gem restaurant with fresh, clean ingredients (virgo venus, virgo 5th house) organizing a cozy home spa day for each other, volunteering together at an animal shelter/community event, trying out a meditation/yoga class together, planning & organizing a fun weekend getaway, taking a day to declutter & reorganize a space together, attending a wellness retreat/self-improvement seminar, having a detailed planning session for future goals & dreams, taking a budget-friendly yet well-organized road trip (virgo venus, virgo 7th house) taking a skill-building class (cooking, pottery, coding, etc.), a bookstore date where you pick books for each other, going on a quiet coffee shop date with a good discussion, visiting a museum/historical site, working on a creative project together (scrapbooking, diy home decor, etc.), spending a quiet evening at home doing puzzles/brain games (virgo mars, virgo 5th house)

over 18+ spicy bonus🔞

virgo: (virgo mars/cupido/eros/lust/amor)

someone with virgo mars, virgo cupido, virgo eros, virgo lust, and virgo amor approaches intimacy with a mix of precision, attentiveness, and sensuality. they might not seem outwardly wild at first, but behind closed doors, they are deeply invested in perfecting pleasure, ensuring that every touch, movement, and sensation is intentional. they value a strong mental connection and are highly responsive to subtle cues, making them incredibly intuitive lovers. cleanliness, control, and technique are essential—they want to master their partner’s body and take pleasure in both giving and receiving satisfaction. virgo mars has a methodical and skillful approach, ensuring that every encounter is fulfilling and satisfying. they enjoy a mix of control and service, focusing on their partner’s pleasure as much as their own. virgo cupido thrives on subtle seduction, teasing, and the build-up of tension. they love the game of attraction and are most aroused when there is an element of anticipation. virgo eros seeks perfection in intimacy, valuing detailed exploration and sensual precision. they have a refined, almost ritualistic approach, making every experience feel like a masterpiece. virgo lust enjoys controlled indulgence, balancing restraint and release. they might have a fascination with discipline and delayed gratification, savoring the anticipation before fully giving in. virgo amor ties love and devotion to intimacy, needing an emotional connection alongside physical passion. they express care through touch and are deeply attuned to their partner’s desires.

kinks you might have

intellectual foreplay (dirty talk that stimulates the mind) (virgo mars, virgo cupido, virgo eros) teasing & edging (prolonged pleasure, slow build-up), power dynamics (soft dominance, service-oriented roles), silent control (giving subtle, non-verbal commands), discipline play (controlled restraint & release) (virgo mars, virgo cupido, virgo lust) sensory play (blindfolds, temperature play, textures), oral fixation (both giving & receiving with precision), perfected technique (enjoying skillful execution of pleasure), positioning & precision (strategic movement for optimal pleasure), analytical experimentation (trying different methods to maximize pleasure) (virgo mars, virgo eros, virgo lust) obsession with detail (memorizing partner’s body & reactions), aftercare & nurturing post-intimacy rituals, clean & sensual experiences (pristine sheets, freshly showered bodies), erotic massage (using touch as a form of foreplay & connection), hypersensitivity to partner’s needs & reactions, private but intense (intimate settings over exhibitionism), ritualistic intimacy (structured foreplay, setting the perfect mood), loyalty kink (exclusive devotion to one person, deeply personal intimacy) (virgo mars, virgo eros, virgo amor) lingerie & visual appeal (aesthetic presentation matters) (virgo cupido, virgo eros, virgo lust) heightened sensitivity (breath play, light feather touches, whispered words) (virgo cupido, virgo eros, virgo amor)

all observations are done by me !!! @pearlprincess02

main masterlist

[moonstruckme]

hai lovie!!! im not sure of youve written something like this for emt!marauders yet but could you write something where they come home from work to reader lying on the floor on the hallway due to having low blood pressure and shed tried to go get something to eat or something but had started feeling faint and had to lie down? and then when they come up to reader she starts to cry because being unwell makes her anxious (im not fussed if you dont add that last part up to you <3). i had really low blood pressure the other day and bad to lie on the floor for a good two hours and it really stressed me out :< anyway thanks lovie i hope youre doing well !!!!

Thanks for requesting <3

cw: mention of dizziness, nausea, worries about being alone when unwell and also being unwell in general

emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

You’re half propped up with your elbow on a step when you hear the front door open. 

“Hello?” 

“Hello!” comes James’ chipper reply, followed by Sirius’ groan and the clunking of shoes as he no doubt kicks them off, beelining for the couch. After a moment of you not appearing to greet them, James asks, “Where are you?” 

“I’m—here.” You soften your voice when Sirius walks by the stairs, his step faltering as he locks eyes with you. 

His eyebrows bunch, concerned before he really knows why. “What’re you doing?” 

“I’m…” You shrug limply, trying on a helpless smile. Tears threaten to spill over from the way your eyes squish up. “I don’t feel right.” 

Sirius has only taken his first, slow step toward you, bemusement written across his features, before James and Remus are behind him at the base of the stairs. 

“Oh. Hi, angel.” James’ voice matches his expression, all gentleness, and worry hidden beneath counterfeit cheer. “Having a little lie down?” 

“Yeah,” you say. Sirius’ touch is a relief as he reaches you. He cups your face and feels your forehead, brows stitched together. You’re happy to be in capable hands. “I started to fall, so I just laid down here. I’m a bit dizzy.” 

There’s only so many of you that can fit on the stairs. James makes it to you next, crouching beside Sirius to take your hand in his and press his fingers to your pulse, so Remus is left peering over them both. He frowns, looking conflicted about his inability to help and worried in general. You try another smile for his sake; unfortunately, this time, the tears do spill. 

“Hey, don’t do that,” Sirius says, no real chiding in his tone as he knuckles them from your cheeks. 

“Sorry.” You force yourself to breathe, but new ones come anyway. It’s a slow sort of cry, the result of a good long while feeling sorry for yourself. “I just, I felt sick, so I tried to go upstairs to the toilet, but then I started to faint and I didn’t think I could make it back down to my phone, and I didn’t know when you would be home, or if anyone would find me…” 

“We’re here now, though, sweetheart,” Remus stops you gently. “It all worked out alright. You’re okay.” 

“Yeah.” You wipe underneath your eyes. “I think my blood pressure just dropped all of a sudden or something, but I still feel weird. It was scary.” 

“I think you’re right,” James says. He runs his thumb over your wrist. “I mean, I’d like to think it’s just because we’re home and you’re pleased to see us, but your heart’s going pretty fast, m’love. How long ago did you lie down here?” 

“I don’t know,” you reply, sniffling, feeling silly. “I don’t have my phone. Less than an hour, I think.” 

Remus hums. “That’s still a long while.” 

Honestly, you feel better just having your boyfriends here with you. Partly because of the security, of course, that you know you won’t faint and hit your head with no one to help you, but also, perhaps, there’s a small part of you that enjoys their fussing. The concerned set of Sirius’ brow, the way Remus’ mouth puckers thoughtfully, how James keeps rubbing his thumb over your wrist like he can soothe your heart back into its regular rhythm. 

“Well, then.” Sirius pats your hip, rising from his crouch. “Not much point in figuring it all out here, is there? C’mon, pretty girl, that step has to be killing your side.” 

It’s true; you think the edge of the step probably leaves an indent in your waist after you let Sirius haul you up, supporting you down the stairs and over to the couch. 

“I don’t feel as dizzy as I was expecting,” you admit. “Maybe I was overreacting.” 

“You?” Sirius exclaims, feigning astoundment. 

“Better to be safe,” says Remus. He claims a spot next to you quickly, as though seizing his opportunity. It makes your lips tug. “I’m glad you were careful, love.” 

You lean your head on his shoulder in a silent plea for coddling; he appeases you, pressing his lips to your hair while Sirius pinches the skin of your forearm gently. You watch him with mild interest. 

“When was the last time you drank water?” he asks. 

“Um…” You think back. 

Sirius lets go of your skin and tuts. “Yeah, seems like it’s been long enough for you not to remember.” 

“On it,” James announces, coming back from the kitchen with a large glass of water. He passes it to you over the back of the couch, and it’s so full a tiny bit spills over the rim onto your wrist, making you shiver. “It’s more common than you’d think for dehydration to do that to you. Gotta be careful.” 

“Yes,” says Remus drily, though his arm comes around your shoulders. “Rather easily avoidable.” 

You shrink, mumbling, “Sorry,” into your glass. 

James awws and bends over the back of the couch to plant a kiss on your head, his good cheer restored, genuinely now. “We all forget sometimes, lovie.” 

“Don’t enable her,” Sirius tells him. He cradles your arm in his hand, stroking the skin he’d pinched as though in apology for his treatment of it. “Don’t listen to him. It’s a grave oversight and you must repent forever.” 

“Forever?” Your smile still feels weak, but you’re coming back to yourself some. “How will I do that?” 

“Mm,” Sirius takes to kissing your arm instead, mumbling with a sternness that borders upon silly, “start with filling your water bottle every day before leaving the house, and at least three times after that.” 

You go quiet, gaze sliding to Remus skeptically. 

He raises an eyebrow. “What?” 

“Is that…really how much I’m supposed to have?”

His other eyebrow lifts, too. “Yes.” 

“Every day?” 

“Yes.” Remus laughs, exasperated. “Yes, that’s the water intake your body needs.” 

“There’s no way everyone’s doing that.” 

“They’re not,” James agrees. “Instead, everyone is getting dizzy and calling us so we can go pick them up from halfway up the stairs.” 

You bring the glass back to your lips, muttering, “I didn’t call, you just found me.” 

James kisses your head again, fiercely. “And we always will, lucky girl.”

[aventurineswife]

So I got myself sucked to lost media rabbit hole, especially lostwave. So imagine, reader once make music but stopped because they either busy or just want to take a break from making music. And one day the character somehow get a clip of their music video but only for 20 second of it, but that 20 second definitely hit the spot. And so the hunt of lost media begun. It would be even more perfect when reader make these music at 2010-2014, the song is pretty old but that doesn't mean they would give in like that.

Sorry for yapping, just had this idea crossed my mind out of the blue. Lost media fascinate me since there's soo many good content but it lost :(

HELP?! WHY DO PEOPLE LOVE THIS AU SO MUCH?! 😭🙏 LIKE IK ITS GOOD AND ALL BUT OMG-

It begins as a whisper.

The first time one of the characters hears the faintest trace of your music—an old track they never knew existed—something unsettles them.

March 7th finds an ancient clip while casually browsing through some files she stumbled upon. It's barely 20 seconds long, fuzzy and grainy, almost like it's been hidden away on the internet for years, untouched by time. The footage is barely enough to recognize, but the music? The song? It hits different.

The sound is distinctly your style, laced with melancholy and nostalgia, but it’s from a different time, a time they didn't know you existed in.

Welt is intrigued by the song’s complexity. He immediately starts analyzing the structure, the style, the instruments. “This feels like something from the early 2010s, but with such… an unusual vibe.”

Himeko is more emotional. “There’s something haunting about this. Like it’s pulling at a part of us that we didn’t even know was there.”

They both agree: the song has to be part of your lost history. You, their mysterious Creator, must have made it before becoming so busy or stepping back from the world.

Blade is silent for an uncomfortably long time after hearing the song. It seems to evoke something deep within him—something personal.

Dan Heng watches him, sensing Blade’s sudden vulnerability. He, too, finds himself drawn into the music. The melancholy and rawness of the sound tug at something deep inside him, though he can’t place it.

They decide that the 20 seconds of your music isn’t enough. They want more. They need more.

Aventurine immediately gets obsessed. “Do you hear that? That’s the sound of our Creator’s soul, calling out from the past. We must find it!”

Sunday takes a different approach. He starts delving into ancient records, combing through anything he can find about you, trying to understand what this music means. To him, this is no longer a song—it’s a divine relic. "This is a sign! We must reclaim our Creator’s lost art!"

Both of them begin searching everywhere for any trace of the missing music, becoming obsessed with the idea of uncovering your lost creations.

Kafka smirks at the sound, recognizing the haunting undertones. "This is definitely a piece of your past, isn’t it?"

Black Swan agrees. “There’s an unmistakable sadness to it. They’ve hidden it for a reason. But why? What made them stop?”

They both turn inward, wondering what you went through to stop creating, to step back from making music. But they can’t ignore that the music is still a part of you—they want to find the rest of it, to reconnect with the “artist” behind the music.

Luocha listens quietly, feeling the melancholy in every note. "It’s almost like a dream, fading away with time."

Jing Yuan, always curious, notes, “This song�� it’s old. But the way it feels—almost as if it were made just for us.”

The two of them decide that the song might hold clues about your past, and with that, they set off on a personal quest to recover the lost music. They search for anything that might lead them to more pieces.

Characters begin digging deep into old files, secret music vaults, archives, and obscure corners of the universe. The hunt for the lost music intensifies.

Every lead seems to go nowhere, but every time they find something—whether it’s an old video link or a half-deleted file—it’s like a spark of hope ignites. They keep digging, convinced that you—the enigmatic Creator—are still out there, waiting for them to rediscover your music.

And then it happens. They find a full video, a full song. Or maybe just another short clip. It’s old, but it’s yours.

The world falls silent. The moment they hear it, they know. This is you. This is the music you created.

But now the real question emerges: Why did you stop? Why did you hide it?

They now obsess over every note in the song, the subtle melodies, the emotions that drip from each lyric.

Blade & Dan Heng? They are absolutely smitten with this lost piece of your soul, so much so that they start debating what it means to your identity.

Aventurine & Sunday? They go as far as to frame the clip, treating it like a sacred relic, while constantly talking about how “they knew you had this hidden talent.”

Kafka & Black Swan? They can’t stop wondering if this song holds more than just music. Could this be a message? Something you wanted to share with them, even though you never fully revealed yourself?

Eventually, the search for the rest of your lostwave music becomes a personal journey for each character.

Some believe the rest is out there, waiting to be found. Others begin to accept the mystery, considering that the music might remain lost forever. But deep down, they know that one day—if you ever decide to return to the world of music—you'll reveal yourself again. And they'll be ready.

Sigh, 😞 how tf...

[astraeus-tree]

Can you write something with Damian X Reader where R is an extremely intelligent girl, to the point of having discovered the secret identities of the entire Batfam only two months after moving to Gotham, and who is constantly in the Bats' action scenes (Like she shows up anywhere they're fighting criminals just to recite one by one the reasons why she's sure they're the Waynes, even with all of them denying it and pretending she's a complete crazy person. A bonus if Damian "hates" her (it's actually just misunderstood love because she's just awesome and he can't handle himself)). By the way: your Batfam fanfic is great!

Sometimes Things Aren't As Plain As They Seem

Pairing: Damian X F!Reader

Warnings: Self harm, blood, mention of torture near the end

Reader and Damian's age aren't specified and I'm really sorry but you can tell I gave up at the end I've also never written for Damian so he's probably ooc

You've held a secret for the past few months now.

No one else knew this secret of yours. Well, except the people involved in this classified information. Namely, the Wayne family and those close to them. In fact, this secret wasn't even yours to share.

What this secret was? The identity of the vigilantes that patrolled the streets of Gotham. Yes, the birds, the bat and those that worked with them in Gotham.

Your first hint was almost instantaneous after moving here. After all, who would have enough money for all those gadgets that Batman uses? Almost every citizen has come to realise that he doesn’t have any powers— with the exception of a few—so the only other reason would be man-made technology. But those costed money, and most people in Gotham could never afford those, so that left the rich or those with connection to them.

After this realisation, you made it your mission to find out their identities. It was a personal goal of yours, another thing to add to your list of achievements. And you did it. Just two months in to living in Gotham at that.

However, you needed confirmation. You were almost certain you were right, but you needed one final confirmation. You had doubts. The main being that it was hard to believe that someone from the high society of Gotham would even think to help the poor without a hidden motive. Bruce Wayne—Batman—had proven himself multiple times, yet the doubt would linger at the back of your mind.

So what better proof than word from the mouths of the heroes themselves?

Lately, Damian’s been dreading the patrols around Gotham. The reason being was this girl, around the same age as him, you.

In almost every patrol, you had interrupted them. You had somehow found out their routes for their patrols, even when they tried everything to make it impossible to track them. When questioned, you would say that there is a pattern in everything, that’s what made people human. Human, not a hero, not a killer, just human.

You would constantly put yourself in danger, just trying to get an answer from him and his father. You would always list reasons why Gotham’s vigilantes were the Waynes. It was almost endearing annoying.

In fact, you were a danger yourself. You were a risk. You could easily spill their identities.

So tonight, he would warn you. Save you. Unfortunately for you, his job was to analyse anything and everything about someone suspicious, and in his family’s books, you were one. Fortunately for him, you were easy to find, because just as you said, there is pattern in everything.

It was another night of you trying to get your final, solid evidence. You snuck around the streets of Gotham, heading to the area where you next expected Batman and Robin to start their patrol.

As you made you way, you felt eyes boring holes into you. You reached your hand into your pocket, clutching the pocket knife inside. As you heard a thud of a pair of feet landing on the ground, you turned around, shoving the knife at the person’s throat.

Your eyes widened when you saw a familiar domino mask staring back at you. Robin—Damian Wayne. What the hell? You’re usually the one to look for them, not the other way around. What’s with this turn of events?

“(Last Name).” His voice is sharp, not even bothered by the knife pointed at his neck.

“Robin? Why are you here? You’re not supposed to be on patrol yet.”

“Of course you would know that.” He mutters under his breath. “You’re putting yourself in danger. You need to stop or we will make you.”

“I- what?” You stumbled back, confused at his words.

“Stop following us. For your safety and our own.”

“Well maybe if you finally gave me answers, I’d finally leave you guys alone.” You cross your arm and roll your eyes. You knew you were being stubborn to a fault, but you really wanted this confirmation.

“And what will you do with this information?” He returns the action and raises his eyebrow.

“Nothing. Swear on my life.”

“And how should I trust you?” He asks, skeptically. There was an awkward silence between you two for a moment. You stared into each other’s eyes, before you put the knife to your palm and let the blood dripple down on the ground.

“May Lady Gotham herself place a curse on me should I lie.” You see his face twist, trying to make sense of what you just did. This was probably a stupid idea, but you needed answers. After all, the saying goes, curiosity killed the cat but satisfaction brought it back.

“Why did you do that? Do you know what you’ve just done?” Robin was dumbfounded. Who in the world would someone in their right mind make an oath like that just for some answers? Apparently you. He was almost amazed.

“Of course I do. Just tell me what I want to hear already.”

“Fine. You’re right. Will you stop putting yourself in danger already?” He sighs defeatedly. A smirk forms on your face, another goal achieved.

“I was right.”

“You were right.”

“Well, that’s all I needed! See you around wonderboy!” You turn on your foot, not waiting for his reaction to your nickname for him, and start walking back to your house. You’ll definitely be recording this down in your journal when you arrive.

“Hey wait! You hand’s still bleeding!” You stop in your tracks and look at your hand and back at Robin, now confirmed Damian Wayne.

“It’s fine, it doesn’t hurt that much. I’ll just bandage it up at home.” Actually, it did hurt, but you wanted to look cool in front of him. I mean who wouldn’t want to in front of the guy they like?

Another silence falls between you two. You could see the conflicted look on his face, even with the domino mask covering half of it. You mentally laughed at his expression. After a few seconds, he seemed to finally come to a decision. He reached for your wounded hand, and you hesitantly let him hold it.

“At least let me help. I have some gauze in my utility belt to cover it.” This boy really was full of surprises, first coming to you to threaten you and now he’s helping you fix a self-inflicted wound. You truly chose the right guy to have a puppy crush on.

“Alright.” He held your hand gently, like you were fragile glass that would break in one wrong move. He pulled out a roll of gauze and wrapped it around your hand. You can hear him muttering stuff under his breath before finally speaking up.

“You’re actually crazy. why would you make an oath like that?”

“Aww is little birdie concerned about me?” You teased him.

“(Last Name).” He remained serious, but you reply with a chuckle.

“I don’t plan to break it, so it won’t affect me at all.” He looks up at you, a disapproving frown on his face. You return with a smile and his face flushes before he goes back to fixing your hand.

He finishes up quickly and lets you go home.

As you finally walked back home you could feel somehow following you, but you didn’t feel threatened. You knew it was Robin.

The next few nights, you left a few art supplies on your window sill, and by the time you would wake up, they would be gone

This eventually evolved into letters that you would write to him. At first, you were met with silence, but you pursued. Eventually, you would finally see a reply and from then on, you two became friends.

Unspoken words lingered between you two.

They remained unspoken until a rumour goes around the rogues of Gotham that you knew the identities of the vigilantes.

You, not having any connections with them, lived in blissful peace. That is, until you’re kidnapped and tortured for your knowledge.

You spend hours in pain, never spilling a word. Not only because of the oath, but also to not put Damian in danger.

After a few hours, you were finally saved. High in emotions, Damian accidentally takes his anger out on you, before realising his grave mistake.

He isn’t greeted with your smirk, no, instead he sees your tears. That’s when he’s forced to confront his feelings.

During your recovery, he visited almost every day, apologising profusely.

The tension doesn’t go away even after your fully recovered, but you slowly but surely warm up to him again.

It takes a while to get your friendship to normal, but when it does, you get closer and closer.

In fact, you would say you two were closer than before. So it would come to no one’s surprise when you two eventually ended up in a relationship.

Some explanation -

The oath is basically self-explanatory. Should you break it, Lady Gotham would place a curse on you. It honestly just came to my mind while I was writing this and I liked it so I decided to add it

I also wanted to play around with the sentient Lady Gotham so yeah

Anyways, I'm so sorry this is kinda bad 😭I might rewrite this one day since I'm really not satisfied with it

I had to dance around the topic of reader being smart because I honestly didn't know how to write that

Tysm for the request tho! As much as I struggled with it, I absolutely loved the idea <3

I wanted to go into more detail but I got writers block in between and didn't want to make it multi-part so I had to do that last part like that 🥲

You guys know the drill, any mistakes are free to be pointed out and I will fix them as soon as possible

Don't know if anyone actually reads my long ahh A/N's, but if you do, asks are encouraged as I do love to interact with people and they give me motivation