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guppiechuu · 1 month ago

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baby, baby, baby ──── PART TWO ✦

always and forever, l.h. ⭑.ᐟ ⤷ part 2 of baby, baby, baby 𓂃🧸۶ৎ ˚ʚɞ˚ (read here.)

exboyf idol!heeseung x youngmom!reader

length: 13.7k

contains: angst, miscommunication, hurt/comfort, protective heeseung, protective ot7, abandonment issues, co-parenting, heeseung genuinely throws hands, enha has your back, group confrontation, happy ending

warnings: toxic ex-relationship, threats/intimidation, light violence (pushing and grabbing), fighting, implied trauma, toxic parent dynamic, slut-shaming, your ex is the acc worst

synopsis: you and heeseung finally have things figured out and, yes, it's everything you hoped it would be. but things get complicated when your ex-boyfriend (and the father of your child) appears at your home, demanding you make space for him in your daughter's life.

with a threat against heeseung and an unfortunate miscommunication, the trust he's been working so hard to build with you is put to the final test.

⤷ chuu's 💌 ── .✦ wowwowoww this took SUCH a long time but i was not done with y/n and heeseung. genuinely the most dramatic and indulgent angst i have ever written but, what can i say? i'm a sucker for a man who's willing to defend what's his.

——

“Heeseung!” You called, cursing lightly as Hana wriggled out of your grasp and tore off towards the car.

Heeseung looked up, eyes locking onto the small child barreling towards him as he closed the trunk of your car. His feet were covered in sand, hair sticking up, the dark strands stiff with sea water.

Your daughter looked the same—sandy, saltwatered, and windswept as she attempted to dodge him, her hands outstretched towards the fading light of the beach.

Heeseung caught her with an arm around the waist and hoisted her, kicking legs and all, to his chest.

“Come on, supergirl,” He said, using a free hand to brush the sand off her feet. “Time to go home.”

“No!”

Her new favorite word.

“No?” He said, bringing her around to the backseat. “You don’t want to go home and eat all this candy we got?”

“No!”

“No, you don’t want to put on your new pjs that Uncle Jay bought you?”

“No!”

He hummed while he wrestled her into her car seat, strapping her in with practiced ease. “No, you don’t want to get mommy all wet while she gives you your bath?”

“No!!”

He grinned. “I see. Guess I’ll have to take care of that one, then.”

You slapped him on the shoulder. "You're gross."

Hana laughed at that, mimicking you with a few light slaps to his hands.

"What do you think, baby, am I gross?" He asked, brushing her wet hair back from her forehead.

She rammed her little fists into his arm, squealing in delight. "No!"

"That's what I thought," He said, closing her door and climbing into the front seat.

There was a time when Heeseung thought co-parenting would be a challenge—that the demands of caring for a toddler might strain your relationship, make things overly complicated. Tense. The way they had been between you and your ex.

He used to lie awake in his room, eyes heavy, chest tight with the fear that he’d mess it all up. That he didn’t have what it took, and that he’d hurt you worse than he ever had before.

But—like most things about the two of you—he’d been wrong.

You and Heeseung had slipped into a rhythm so tender, so natural, it was hard to believe there’d ever been a time without it.

He still lived at the dorm with the other guys, but he spent most nights at your house. During the day, he attended recording sessions and rehearsals, filmed content, and planned for upcoming tour dates as they prepared for their album release.

But he found his way back to you every night. To the contained chaos of your house, the sound of your daughter's laughter, to the warmth of you beside him.

"Hey," He'd say, kicking his shoes off at the door. "How're my two favorite girls?"

"Fussy. And tired," You'd answer, relishing the feeling of his lips on your temple, and his hand on your back.

For every night he’d spent tangled in doubt, there was one you’d spent the same—lying awake with old fears rattling in your head. That you were getting yourself into something you might regret, and all the hours you spent together would one day come to an end.

But it was getting easier and easier to push these thoughts away.

Heeseung was intentional with you. Direct. Clear. All the things you’d wished for years ago during your first time together. When he made promises, he followed through. When he saw you having a hard time, he took over.

It seemed instinctual, the way he could tell what you needed when things were overwhelming. You weren’t used to it. Asking for help had never been your strong suit, and sometimes the discomfort of it brought you to tears.

But Heeseung guided you through this new territory with ease, never once making you feel like you were too much.

He fit into your life like a puzzle piece, something that had been a part of you even before you knew it was missing. It had only been three months, but Heeseung had quickly become an irreplaceable part of your life.

——

The car was quiet. Hana's babbling had grown softer as the day caught up to her. The radio was on the lowest setting, a song you could barely make out mixing with the sound of your daughter’s tired muttering.

Heeseung’s hand rested gently on your knee as he drove, his other wrist draped over the steering wheel while he traced absent-minded patterns over your skin.

By the time you were parked in your driveway, Hana was out, cheeks pink from the sun, head lolling against her car seat.

You reached back to brush a curl away from her face, your heart spinning at the feeling of her skin beneath your fingers. Heeseung's touch was equally gentle, thumbing over your knee as he watched you in the mirror.

"I think a bath will have to wait until tomorrow," You said quietly. "We should just get her to bed." You turned around in your seat as Heeseung moved his hand to rest on the nape of your neck, his fingers tangling in your hair.

"Hm, an early night with no responsibilities. Whatever will we do with all the extra time?" He said teasingly, leaning forward to kiss you.

Your heart still fluttered when he did that.

"Get your mind out of the gutter, Lee," You muttered against his lips. "Come on."

Hana's body was heavy in your arms as you carried her up your steps, her diaper bag dangling from your fingers. The house was quiet, still warm from the summer heat as you pushed the door open, trying not to wake the sleeping toddler on your hip.

But as you stepped into the living room, your breath caught. The diaper bag slipped from your grasp, thudding against the ground.

"Babe, have you seen her water bottle—" Heeseung's voice trailed off as he came in behind you. You felt him tense.

He was there. In your house. Leaning against the kitchen counter like he owned the place.

Jace.

Looking at him now, it was so obvious that you'd started dating him all those years ago to get your mind off of Heeseung's absence. The two couldn't have been more different.

Jace's face was carefully guarded, eyes darting between the three of you with cold calculation. His gaze lingered on Hana, her head resting on your shoulder, hand curled around your hair.

His lip curled lightly at the sight of her, that same look that he used to give every time you'd ask him for help, every time you'd beg him to spend time with her. It wasn't hatred. It wasn't even disgust.

It was inconvenience.

Like simply being in the same room as you two was exhausting for him.

Heeseung moved closer behind you, silent. His presence eased some of the panic that was bubbling up your throat. The shift in his posture was unmistakable—tense, protective, itching to step in if you needed him.

His shoulder brushed yours, a silent reassurance. I'm right here, it said.

Something shifted in Jace's expression as his gaze flicked to Heeseung, taking in the man standing in his place. His face hardened, eyes narrowing, knuckles white as he crossed his arms.

"Long day?" He said finally, voice far too casual for how tense the air around you had become.

You tightened your hold on Hana, shifting her higher against your chest. “What are you doing here?” You asked, your voice wavering slightly.

Jace shrugged, as if there was nothing unusual about the situation at all. The tightness in your throat said otherwise.

"You've been ignoring my calls. Thought I'd stop by in person. I wanted to see my daughter."

The way he said it, my daughter, sent a shiver down the back of your neck. Heeseung let out a low breath, his brows furrowed.

"You can't just—" You swallowed, your throat dry. "You can't just let yourself in."

"Funny, I'm pretty sure my name's still on the lease. My key still fits in the door. Should've done something about that if you didn't want me coming home."

Heeseung stepped forward, dropping the bag he was holding with a thump. "You need to leave," He said, voice low and even. There was an edge to it that you'd never heard before. Wary. Defensive.

"Oh, right. The boyfriend." Jace pushed away from the counter, crossing the room until he was uncomfortably close. "Heeseung, right? So you're the one who hit the road all those years ago?" His face twisted disdainfully. "Surprised she let you back in the door. Maybe my odds are better than I thought."

Heeseung didn't budge. "You're not wanted here," He said steadily.

"You like playing house with someone else's kid?"

"If that's what you wanna call it, then yeah, I do." He retorted, eyes darkening. "You need to go."

"That's my daughter," Jace said, pointing at Hana. He looked at you then, eyes darting around your face. "Our daughter."

Your heart twisted painfully at that—our daughter—the words you used to pray to hear. The ones he used to spit at you, like she was some kind of disease you'd brought him.

“Figured it was time I start being a part of her life,” He said, fingers twitching like he was thinking about reaching out, touching her.

You took a step backward, your grip on Hana tightening. Heeseung’s hand was at your back instantly, steadying you.

"Why are you really here?" You asked. "You could have shown up any time before this."

Jace's face changed, that look of forced regret that you'd come to know so well settling over his sharp features. "I didn't know if you wanted me here, y/n. You said some harsh things last time we saw each other."

You frowned. “You didn’t know if... Jace, I called you— I..." You bit your lip, trying to focus on the feeling of Heeseung's thumb smoothing over your lower back.

"I know. And I know I should have been there..." He rubbed at the back of his head. "You know how hard it was for me. I wasn't... I wasn't ready."

"And you want me to believe that suddenly you are?"

He frowned. "Why are you acting like I was never there for you?"

"Because you weren't."

Your heart beat wildly in your chest. Jace had this way of making you feel small. You’d been through it before—his ability to twist every conversation, to make you question your own instincts.

You hated how easily he was doing it now.

"You know, I remember what it was like.” His voice was careful, measured. “When you were alone. When he was gone. I’m surprised you’ve forgiven him so quickly."

Your face hardened.

“Does he know what a mess he left behind when he took off to go prancing around onstage for a bunch of teenage girls?”

“Stop it, Jace.”

You saw what he was trying to do—force himself between you and Heeseung so he could wedge back into your life. You weren’t going to let him do it.

"What? You don't want him to know what a mess you were? How I had to pick up the pieces after he tossed you aside like you were nothing? Don’t act like I wasn’t there for you, y/n. We both know that’s not true.”

Your looked away, heat rising to your face. His words were dredging up memories you’d tried hard to forget. Moments that filled you with shame and disappointment: the nights you’d spent crying into his chest—long before the pregnancy, before the distance grew between you—begging him to help you forget about Heeseung.

The way you’d let him slip back in even after he'd left you and Hana, just for the help, just for the comfort of not being completely alone. Moments that you swore you'd never repeat.

"I was the one you'd call when you were scared and alone. I was the one who came over when you felt like you were doing everything wrong." He looked at Heeseung then. “You know she still calls me? Every time something’s up with Hana, I get a message. Did she tell you that?”

Heeseung’s face was hard, the edge of his jaw sharp as he ground his teeth. You hadn’t told him that.

It wasn’t like you were talking to Jace all the time, and the number of texts you sent him went down significantly when Heeseung reentered your life, but… he was the father of your child.

A part of you still clung to the idea that Hana would get to grow up knowing her dad. Could anyone fault you for trying to include him when it mattered?

“You think I’m gonna feel threatened by a few text messages?” Heeseung said, though you could hear the tension in his voice.

You glanced at him. This wasn’t how you’d imagined this conversation going. Still, Heeseung never wavered. He glared at Jace, who crossed his arms and shrugged.

“I just want to make sure you know who y/n’s going to when it really counts.”

You shook your head, as if clearing his words from your ears. "That's bullshit and you know it. I can’t rely on you for anything. You hated being here. You hated me.”

“Come on, y/n, is that really how you remember me?”

You laughed humorlessly. “It’s exactly how I remember you. You didn't mind it when things were easy—when I was the one carrying all the responsibilities, but when things got hard, you left. You gave up."

"And you think he won't do the same?"

Heeseung bristled beside you.

"You think he won't get sick of you, too? The sad single mom act gets old after a while, believe me."

"Fuck you," You snarled, pressing Hana to your chest as she stirred, letting out a whine at the volume of your voice.

His face twisted, the facade of concern vanishing behind one of anger, and there was the man you knew so well. The one who made you feel trapped, out of control, threatened. The one who couldn't stand being told no.

"I'm the reason you have a place to live," He spat back. "I'm the reason you have a kid to call your own. Why are you acting like I'm the bad guy? You used to love it when I'd come around like this."

Your chest tightened. "I'm taking care of my child."

"You're ungrateful."

Heeseung's fingers closed around the back of your shirt. His voice was sharp, dangerous. "Don't. Don't talk to her like that."

"Why the fuck are you still here?" Jace said, exasperated. "Have I not made myself clear? I've got it. You can run off like you did before. It shouldn't be very hard for you. The way she explained it, it sounded like leaving was the easiest thing you'd ever done."

"Jace," You said, voice low.

"No, we've spent enough time talking about me. How about him? Where were you while y/n was going through all this? If you're so great, why did she need me to pick up the pieces after you tossed her aside?” He looked at you. “What did he say? That things would be different this time around? You’re a smart girl, y/n, I find it hard to believe you’d fall for something like that.”

“You don’t know anything about us.”

Jace’s voice was steady. “I know he doesn’t know you half as well as I do.”

“Bullshit,” Heeseung said.

“Yeah? Try having a kid with someone first, maybe then you’ll get it.”

He scoffed. "Are you an idiot? You left her."

"So did you."

"I'm here now."

Jace held his arms out. "And what do you think I'm trying to do?"

Heeseung balled his fists, clearly trying to contain himself. Hana lifted her head slowly, blinking up at you tiredly.

Jace's eyes were locked on you. "Come on, baby. You're not really gonna kick me out, are you?"

Your throat tightened.

"That's my kid, y/n."

"I want you to go," You said firmly, digging your fingers into your daughter's shirt. "Now."

Jace sighed, dropping his hands to his sides. "You're not really giving me much of a choice here."

"Did you not hear what she said?! Get the fuck out!"

He narrowed his eyes at Heeseung, jaw tightening. That infuriatingly calm demeanor that always used to send you spiraling. He held his hands up.

"Look, I don't want to make your life harder. Especially you, man," He nodded at Heeseung. "I know you have a reputation to keep up. I'd hate for your fans to catch wind that their fav is too busy hanging around another guy's kid to keep singing his little songs."

You inhaled sharply. Heeseung tensed

The threat hung between them, crackling with energy. Heesueng kept his eyes on Jace as he made his way towards the door, his jaw set.

"I'll let you two think about that. See you soon, y/n."

The door closed behind him, plunging the room into an almost suffocating silence. Hana whimpered softly against your shoulder, and you rocked her gently, though you hardly realized you were doing it. Your pulse thundered in your ears.

Heeseung hovered beside you, his expression taut. He was breathing hard, the adrenaline of the interaction still fresh in the clench of his fists, the rigid line of his jaw.

His thumb brushed lightly against your shoulder, a wordless reassurance that he was there, he wasn’t going anywhere. But there was a flicker of something in his eyes—doubt, hurt—something you could see him trying to swallow.

“Are you okay?” He asked softly.

You nodded, your breath shallow. "I'm sorry you had to see that," You said, meeting his gaze hesitantly.

He was staring at the counter, where Jace had been leaning when you first walked in. You could practically see his mind racing, the thoughts flying behind his eyes as he worked his way through his emotions.

“I didn’t know you still talked to him,” He said flatly, not meeting your eyes. His voice was calm, neutral, but you knew that look on his face.

He was trying not to care. And he was failing miserably.

“I…” You started. “I don’t, Heeseung. Not really. It’s been weeks—”

“Weeks?” He looked at you.

The hurt was plain on his face. He’d been with you for three months—Hana had started walking, learned how to say your names—and the news that you’d been talking to your ex during that time seemed to crash over him, his expression falling.

You felt your throat tighten, defensiveness creeping up the back of your tongue. Jace was the father of your child. The man responsible for giving you your daughter. Did it really bother Heeseung that bad? That you had a one-off exchange every now and then to check in about your kid?

Of course, it did.

“I wasn’t trying to keep it from you,” You managed, searching his face. “It’s just… it’s complicated.”

“You think I don’t know that?”

His tone made you wince. Not because it was loud, or angry, but because he sounded genuinely hurt.

“I wasn’t trying to lie to you, I just— Look, nothing’s going on between us, Heeseung. I would never do that to you—”

“God, no, y/n,” He said, stepping away as he ran a hand through his hair. “That’s not what this is about.”

“Then what’s the big deal?” You asked defensively, fidgeting with the edge of Hana’s shirt. She had her fingers on your necklace, blissfully unaware of the tension growing between you and Heeseung.

“It is a big deal, y/n. Not because I think something is going on— I would never—” He huffed, frustrated. “I’m trying to be here for you. For both of you. I wish you would let me.”

“I am! That’s her dad, Heeseung! Are you really angry with me for trying to involve him in her life?”

“Yes! I am, actually.” He put his hands on his hips, his soft features hardened by the frown on his face. “What the hell could he possibly bring to her life but pain and confusion? Do you really want him around her, y/n? Really?”

You flushed. “I want her to be able to make that choice when she’s—”

He cut you off. “No. You have to make that choice for her. You’re her mom. You’re supposed to keep her safe.”

You tensed, anger rising up your chest. “You don’t get to talk about what being her mom means.”

“I don’t understand why you’d go to him for anything—especially about Hana,” He said angrily.

“It’s not for you to understand! You don’t know what it’s like—”

“He practically broke into your house, y/n! He threatened you—he threatened her.”

“He threatened you,” You snapped. “God, I knew this would happen!”

That shut him up for a second.

His jaw clenched. “Knew what would happen?”

“This!” You gestured at him. “That it was going to be too much, trying to balance your career and being here with us. You were going to have to choose eventually.”

His expression broke, actually broke. He looked away as his face cracked, eyes glassy. Hanna began to fuss against your chest, glancing between you with an upset expression on her face.

The sight of both of them broke your heart.

“You know what happens if people find out, Heeseung. You know.”

He shook his head. “I don’t care.”

“They’ll tear her apart. They’ll tear me apart.”

“I won’t let that happen!” He snapped. Then he looked at you, brows furrowed, the pain written across his face. “How could you say that to me? That I’d have to choose? You know I— You know that I choose this. Choose you.”

“Then what do you want from me!?”

“I want you to choose me back.” He stared at you, his lip trembling like he was a second away from breaking down completely. “I want you to rely on me. You think I can’t handle it, and I’m trying to show you that I can!”

“You heard what Jace said.”

“You think I give a fuck what he says? I’ll protect you, y/n— We’ll protect you.”

“And if he really does it?”

He paused, his gaze flickering uncertainly.

“If he leaks our relationship and people find out. Your fans get pissed off. They come for me and my daughter, they tear us apart. Threaten your future. What then? Are you still gonna be choosing me when that happens?”

He stared at you. “I don’t understand why you’re pushing me away.”

The words kept coming, bitter and breathless, like they were choking you. Tears welled behind your eyes. “Because, Heeseung. You don’t know what it’s like, to be left again and again and still try to believe someone when they say they’ll stay.”

You swallowed, voice trembling. “I’m sorry that you’re angry at me. I’m sorry that I text Hana’s dad sometimes, but—” You bit your lip, your vision blurring. “—I don’t know what I’m doing. I wasn’t trying to hurt you, I— I’m making it up as I go along, and I just—I just got used to you being here.”

Heeseung’s hand twitched by his side.

“So, if you’re going to go, do it. Now,” You spat, though your voice was weak. You were shaking, clinging to Hana like she was a lifeline, the only thing you could truly rely on. “Just get it over with.”

You felt your throat burn as he stepped towards you. You were used to the aftermath of a fight like this. The insults, the accusations. The days of silence that followed, that left you broken and scared.

And god, you were scared. Scared that you’d pushed him too far. That he was going to turn and get his things, slam the door closed behind him like Jace was always doing.

You whimpered as his hands went to your arms, fingers gripping your sleeves. Not harsh—sure. Steady.

You braced for the sting. The familiar recoil of being pulled away from. The snapping words, the withdrawal, the rejection. But they never came.

Heeseung’s voice was barely more than a whisper. “Why do you have so little faith in me?”

Your chest seized.

He looked pained. “I don’t know how else to show you that I’m here, but I’m trying.”

You couldn’t help it—you started to cry.

His voice was quiet, earnest. “You can trust me. I want you to trust me.” He said it firmly, pulling you to his chest as if he just said it the right way, said it enough times, the words might sink into your skin. Might finally stick.

The moment you were in your arms, that you realized he wasn’t leaving, the weight of it all came crashing down. Your breath caught in your throat, your hands shaking.

“I’m sorry,” You gasped out. “I’m sorry I said that. Heeseung—”

He pulled you closer, his fingers tangling in your hair. “I know. It’s okay.”

Smushed between you, Hana began to squirm, her voice rising in protest. Heeseung pulled away enough to look down at her.

You watched as he brushed her hair out of the way, his face soft, and sorry, and scared. It was written all over him—the way he had one hand wrapped around you, the other thumbing gently at Hana’s cheek—he was scared of losing you.

The same way you were about him.

“We’re okay, aren’t we?” Heeseung said, leaning down to look at Hana. The words were meant for her, but they sank into your heart all the same.

We’re okay.

You pressed your face to the top of her head and closed your eyes, allowing the lingering scent of salt and sunscreen to soothe the last of your unease.

We’re okay. If you could believe in nothing else, you believed in that.

You fell asleep that night with your face pressed against Heeseung’s neck, his heart thrumming gently against your cheek. Lying there with his arms around your shoulders, it was hard to remember that you’d fought at all, or that there had been anything to fight about in the first place.

Jace seemed a world away. The words you’d thrown out of fear and defensiveness seemed a world away. For that blissful night, you believed what he’d said: that he would protect you, and that as long as you were together, nothing was going to get between you and your family.

But it was never going to be that simple.

——

Things were tense for the next few days. There was no outright evidence to point to—no tone, no passive aggressive comments, no real change in behavior. They were just… different.

Heeseung seemed to be treading more carefully around you. He no longer stepped in to help you with Hana where he saw fit, like she was just as much his responsibility as she was yours.

You’d never minded when he did that. His instincts were usually right, and you liked that he felt a sense of entitlement to caring for her. It was a wordless sort of reassurance that you’d come to rely on.

Now, he waited for you to ask him for help, as if scared of overstepping a boundary that you couldn’t remember ever placing. He hovered. He was there the moment you needed him, but that sense of belonging, of being a single unit, it seemed to get smaller and smaller.

You tried not to read too much into it. He wanted you to trust him.

That’s what he had said.

That he wanted you to rely on him, that he wasn’t going anywhere, that your days of second-guessing yourself and your relationship could finally be over.

But it was hard for you. Of course, it was. You really did try, but it wasn’t easy when he seemed quieter than usual. It wasn’t easy when his once steady hand around Hana’s waist became hesitant, unsure.

And it wasn’t easy when he got a phone call Sunday afternoon, and stepped into the hallway to take it.

“Hey Heeseung, can you come back to the dorm? Management is here.”

Jungwon’s voice was casual, but there was an underlying that edge that made Heeseung’s stomach twist uncertainly.

“Sure. Is everything okay?” He asked, glancing back at you and Hana playing on the carpet.

“It’s fine. Just get here when you can.”

You looked up from the living room floor as he hung up the phone.

“Was that Jungwon?”

He nodded, grabbing his jacket from the couch. “Yeah, management is at the dorm. I guess they’re calling everyone in.”

You didn’t miss the flicker of uncertainty that crossed his face, the interaction with Jace still fresh in both your minds. But Hana was climbing across your legs, her hands grabbing at the strands of hair falling out of your braid, and the look was gone as soon as it came, replaced by one of soft encouragement at your daughter’s venturing.

Heeseung squatted down, brushing the hair out of her face and giving you a kiss on your temple. “I’ll be back later, okay? I’ll text you.”

“Okay,” You said, your throat tightening as he got up, the smell of his cologne lingering as the door shut behind him.

An uneasy feeling settled in your stomach in the silence that followed, but you did your best to push it away. We’re okay. Heeseung’s words echoed in your mind, and despite the age-old insecurities that still lingered in you, you chose to believe him.

He’d be back later. He’d text you. You’d fall asleep the same way you had for the past few months, wrapped within his protective embrace and comforted by the fact that no matter what happened, you had each other.

Only, he didn’t text you later that night.

In fact, he didn’t come back at all.

——

“This is bullshit.”

Heeseung stood in the middle of his dorm’s living room, jacket in his hands, shoes still on as if ready to bolt out the door at any moment. And he wanted to.

He was furious.

He’d told you he’d be back. That he would text you when he was on his way, but his phone—along with everyone else’s—now resided inside a cardboard box that was tucked securely under the arm of their manager, Sejin.

“It’s just while we figure out how serious this guy is,” Sejin reminded him for what was probably the tenth time that night.

Heeseung wasn’t having any of it. “That’s bullshit!” He repeated, looking to the others for backup.

They were scattered around the living room, looking equally annoyed at the news, but not very eager to chime in.

The email had come that morning. An vague threat from an unfamiliar contact that Heeseung had no trouble identifying as Jace. The members had been gathered back at the dorm to discuss the next step in dealing with this, and the plan that was proposed made Heeseung want to throw something at the wall.

Instead, he huffed at his groupmates’ silence, and shook his head. “You can’t keep us here,” He said angrily.

Sejin was exasperated. “I’m not changing my mind.”

“Give me my phone back.”

“We can’t risk it, Heeseung. You know that.”

“At least let me call her!”

“Heeseung, stop it!”

Sejin’s voice bounced off the walls. He pointed a finger, knuckles white.

“You are the reason that we’re in this situation in the first place. I told you restarting this relationship was a mistake, and now we have threats—serious threats—that someone is going to go public with this information.”

Heeseung ground his jaw, fists clenching by his side.

“Do you even understand what happens if this leaks?” Sejin stared him down, wearing a look Heeseung hadn’t seen since he was a trainee. The one that said he was in charge, and that Heeseung would do well to remember it.

It made his hair stand on end.

“If this story breaks, you can say goodbye to the comeback. To the tour. Your MNET nomination—any nominations. This won’t just tank your name, it’ll drag the whole group down with it.”

Heeseung’s gaze flicked toward the others, who sat silently, watching.

“None of them asked to be part of this,” Sejin went on, his tone sharp. “And now you’ve made them targets for a potentially career-ending scandal.”

Heeseung could hardly speak, he was so angry, “I’m not saying it’s not a big deal, but dating scandals come out all the time! We’ve survived worse, I don’t understand—”

Sejin slammed his hand on the table, causing everyone to flinch. “It’s not a dating scandal, Heeseung! She has a kid. That changes everything. You know it does.”

Heeseung bit his lip, so furious that his hands were trembling. He felt his rage contort into something else, something worse. Shame. Helplessness. Guilt.

Of course, he knew that this was serious, that he’d put the others at risk for something that didn’t involve them, but that wasn’t what he wanted to hear from his manager. Not even close.

Sure, he could comfort you. He could tell you everything would be alright until he was blue in the face, and he’d mean every word of it. But what he wanted—god, he felt so stupid—what he needed was for someone to say the same to him.

To tell him it would be okay.

That this would blow over. That someone was handling it. That he didn’t have to fix everything himself.

Because the honest truth was that Heeseung was scared.

The interaction with Jace had shaken him more than he could admit. He wanted to be strong for you, to protect you and Hana from whatever complications might come with your being together, but he felt powerless now.

He wanted someone to tell him that it was going to be okay. And Sejin wasn’t giving him that. Not even close.

“Stop thinking about yourself for one second and think about what happens if your name becomes associated with this kid,” He continued. “She’ll be the first thing that comes up when people look up anything related to you. Yours or not, she’ll be your headline. Your scandal. Your mistake.”

Heeseung glared, his voice low. “She’s not a mistake.”

Sejin didn’t budge. “It doesn’t matter what she is to you. She’s a liability to everyone else.”

“This isn’t fair.”

He held a hand up. Final. “No phone. No calls. No leaving this dorm until we hear back from our lawyers.”

“Sejin—”

“I’m not asking, Heeseung.” His voice was low. Dangerous.

The other looked between them nervously. Jungwon was perched on the arm of the couch, looking as though he wanted to say something but feared he might receive the same treatment Heeseung had.

He hesitated. “I think y/n should know what’s going on.”

Sejin sighed. “Jungwon, you heard what I—”

“I’m not saying Heeseung should be the one to do it,” He said quickly. “I just think you should tell her what’s happening. She’s going to wonder why Heeseung isn’t messaging her, and she might come here. It’ll be even worse if someone gets a picture of her outside the dorm.”

Sejin paused, considering his words. “Fine. We’ll get in touch with her. But that’s it,” He said seriously, eyeing Heeseung.

Heeseung bit back everything he wanted to say, everything he should have said, as the team shuffled out of the dorm. He kept his fists clenched by his side as the door slammed shut, leaving them all in silence.

For a moment, no one moved. Then, Heeseung collapsed into a chair and ran a hand through his hair. He sighed.

“I’m sorry,” He managed, struggling to look at the others.

Sunghoon shook his head. “It’s not your fault.”

The others murmured in agreement.

“You didn’t ask this guy to go sharing your personal life with the public.”

“No, but I should have known better,” He insisted, bouncing his leg restlessly. “God, I told y/n I’d be back tonight. She’s probably freaking out right now.”

Jake moved in, pulling a chair out from the table and sitting down. “What happened anyways?”

“Yeah, how did this guy even find out about you?” Jay came to join them at the table, the others following suit.

Heeseung broke into a long-winded explanation of how the evening had unfolded—getting home from the beach, seeing Jace there in the kitchen. The way he had spoken to you, like he was responsible for every good thing in your life.

Like he was the reason you had anything to call your own. Like he was the reason Hana was growing up so well. Like you weren’t the one who had fought tooth and nail to give your daughter a good life.

Just thinking about it made Heeseung’s hands ball in his lap.

“So he, like, broke in?” Jake asked incredulously. “Like, was just waiting for her to get home?”

“Yup.”

“I’m glad you were there with her,” Sunghoon said. “Who knows what would’ve happened if she was alone.”

Jungwon was quiet for a while before he glanced at Heeseung. “I can’t imagine how overwhelming this must be.”

“It’s fine… I just wish we were together right now, you know?” Heeseung sighed.

“Not for you. For y/n.”

He looked up.

“Maybe…” Jungwon said, speaking slowly, “Maybe this is good. The space, I mean.”

Everyone looked at him.

He held his hands up. “I’m just saying—this is a lot, right? The press, her ex, Hana..”

Heeseung blinked. “What are you trying to say?”

Jungwon hesitated. “I’m not saying it’s your fault, because it’s not. It’s just…” His voice softened. “Y/n’s had a really hard time. And I don’t think we’re making things any easier for her.”

It wasn’t cruel. It wasn’t even wrong. But it hit Heeseung like a blow to the stomach.

Not we, he thought. Me.

Sunoo looked between them, watching the emotions that passed over Heeseung’s face—the way his shoulders dropped, how quiet he became.

He half-laughed, clapping his hand on Jungwon’s shoulder. “Oh, come on, I don’t think that’s true,” He said lightly. “I mean, you might be right, the space might be good—but she loves you, Heeseung. And she’s tough. She can handle more than we give her credit for.”

Heeseung nodded, suddenly wishing that he was alone.

He didn’t say anything. Not when the others chimed in to agree, not when the conversation began to shift, not even when they dispersed to hang out in their rooms or go back to gaming on the couch.

He just sat there, Jungwon’s words replaying in his mind.

I don’t think we’re making things any easier for her.

It looped in his head like a chorus, burning at the back of his throat like a pill he couldn’t quite swallow. Jungwon hadn’t meant it to be harsh, but Heeseung couldn’t let go of it.

You’d had a hard time. He wasn’t making it any easier. You didn’t ask for this.

The worst part? It was the truth.

You hadn’t asked for any of this. Hadn’t asked Heeseung to come back into your world. Hadn’t asked him to help you. Hadn’t wanted to complicate your daughter’s life. You’d only started opening up because Heeseung had practically begged you to let him in.

Because he swore he could handle it. Because he thought loving you would be enough.

He pushed away from the table, biting back all his anger and frustration. In his room, he paced, sat down on his chair, got back up again. When he collapsed onto his bed, he reached for his phone on instinct, only to remember that it wasn’t there.

He sighed.

He just hoped that Sejin had messaged you already. That he’d made it clear Heeseung wasn’t blowing you off, and that everything would be alright.

That wouldn’t be long before you’d hear from him again.

——

Hello, Due to internal circumstances, Heeseung is no longer available for contact. Please do not attempt to reach out to him or any other member of this team.

The buzz of your phone made you jolt, disturbing the momentary spell of shallow, restless sleep you’d managed to slip into.

It had been a rough night.

Hana had cried, and cried, and cried. She’d gotten used to Heeseung being there to put her down for the night, to the sound of his voice as he read—sometimes even sang—her to sleep. He was good at getting her to settle, even when she was at her most agitated.

But he hadn’t done either of those things.

He hadn’t even come home.

You sat up as you read the message, blinking at your screen. You read it again.

And again.

Heeseung is no longer available for contact. Please do not attempt to reach out.

Your body tensed, clutching your phone in your hand as if to make sure that it was real. That your mind wasn’t playing a cruel joke, taking advantage of your lack of sleep and weakened emotional state to recreate your worst nightmare.

But no. The text stared back at you from your screen. Incredibly real.

Heeseung is no longer available for contact.

Do not attempt to reach out.

You felt your resolve snap, the poorly constructed sense of calm and rational you’d been clinging to splintering into a thousand tiny pieces.

You let out a laugh. Sharp. Humorless. Half in shock and half at the irony of the situation.

Above the text, was another grey message bubble. The only other message you’d ever received from this number, date stamped to three years ago, glaring up at you with a sick glow that still made your stomach twist when you looked at it.

Hi Y/N, As you know, ENHYPEN will be departing for their debut tour soon. After thorough consideration, it’s been decided that Heeseung and the rest of the group’s attention should lie solely on preparing for this major step in their careers. We thank you for your understanding and ask that you do not join us at the airport tomorrow. We wish you the best.

HYBE Management

You curled forward, gripping your phone so tightly your knuckles went white.

Everything came back.

Everything you’d been trying so hard to forget over the past three months. Heeseung’s silent departure from your life, the wordless goodbye, the way you didn’t even get to ask any questions. The decision had been made for you, just like it was being made now.

Were you really here again? Stuck in the same situation that had haunted you for months on end? Eyes glazed as you read and reread a message sent as carelessly as if you were some stranger on the street?

It wasn’t just the content of the message that stung; it was the method.

After everything—the laughter in the kitchen, the soft, stolen moments in the hallway, the promises Heeseung had whispered against your skin like they were prayers—you got this?

A text. Faceless and clinical, like you were inconsequential. Insignificant. Nothing. Your eyes burned with a kind of pain that was older than your relationship, older than your daughter, older than you.

The kind that came with realizing you’d ended up exactly where you swore you wouldn’t. Exactly where Heeseung had promised you’d never be again.

It was hard not to panic. Not to sink to the floor and fall apart, the way you had the first time you felt the stinging slap of reality hand-delivered by a text message just like this.

Your mind replayed a thousand moments of comfort—his fingers wrapped around yours, his protective hand on your back, the jokes, the reassurances, the I’m right here’s—clinging to the possibility that you were misunderstanding something.

Things were different now, weren’t they? Heeseung had made a promise—he’d promised—that he was going to be there. Didn’t that mean anything?

You took a breath. Steeled yourself.

There had to be an explanation for this. Something had to have happened—no way he would do this to you again.

You closed out of the contactless chat and opened your texts with him. Your face reflected back at you from your most recent exchange: a photo of you and Hana ankle-deep in the ocean, the surf bubbling around her feet.

You clenched your jaw as you typed.

Y/N Management just texted me What’s going on? Call me please

When no reply came, you tried Jungwon. And Sunoo. And even Jake, who’d only ever texted you to get the password for your Netflix account and to ask if you wanted anything from the convenience store.

No one answered.

The day passed long and torturous, with no words of comfort from any of the people who had become so central to your life.

You sent an embarrassing number of texts to Heeseung, each met with stark, painful silence.

Y/N Can you just tell me what’s going on

Y/N Are we really doing this again?

Y/N I don’t understand.

And every hour that went by seemed to bring on a new set of emotions, each more turbulent and frantic than the last.

Y/N You couldn’t even spare the time to talk to me face-to-face?

Y/N I can’t believe we’re back here again. Exactly where we started.

Y/N You make me feel so fucking stupid Heeseung I never should’ve believed a word out of your mouth

You typed out a hundred different things: long-winded paragraphs explaining that he wasn’t welcome anymore, that he’d never be welcome around you or your daughter again. Cruel, curse-filled insults that stung the back of your throat as you typed them. Rambling sentences that barely made any sense, begging him to just talk to you. To explain what had gone wrong.

You didn’t send them. You deleted everything you wrote almost as soon as you were done writing it. Your thumb hovered over the ‘send’ button before moving up, your heart thundering at the base of your throat.

Blocked.

For now.

Let the silence swallow him instead, you thought angrily, throwing your phone across your bed.

You focused on Hana, clothing and feeding and playing with her, trying to ignore the way Heeseung’s presence seemed to linger around your house like a ghost.

A hint of his cologne as you walked into the room, like he’d been there only moments before. A glimpse of his silhouette in the corner of your eye, as if he were still there, leaned against the wall, watching you with that half-smile on the corner of his lips.

Your daughter sensed your shift in mood and became inconsolable herself, pushing your hand away as you fed her, turning her head when you went to kiss her cheek.

“Hee?” She said, frowning at you from her chair at the table.

It would have killed him, the softness in her voice, the way she stumbled over the syllables of his name. She’d been asking for him all day. You had no way to explain to her why he wasn’t the one feeding her dinner or playing with her on the couch.

“No, baby,” You said firmly, bringing her water bottle from the kitchen.

Hana glared at you. “Hee,” She said stubbornly, smacking her spoon against the table.

“He’s not here,” You repeated, trying to keep the edge from your voice.

“No,” She said angrily.

“Believe me, I’m upset, too.”

“No!” Her spoon clattered to the floor, spraying bits of food across the floor.

You frowned. “Hana, stop it.”

“No!” She screeched, straining against the safety belt at her lap.

You tried to get her bowl out of the way, but she was quicker than you, smacking it off the table with a sharp scream. “No!” She screamed, kicking her feet furiously.

You felt tears prick behind your eyes—hot, angry. Her wailing pierced your ears painfully, sending a wave of helpless frustration over you.

Where was your tantrum? Why couldn’t you scream and cry until someone came to comfort you? Your vision blurred as you picked the spoon and bowl up from the floor, dropping them into the sink.

You braced against the counter, trying to steady the wave of emotion that you’d been struggling to contain. Trying even just to breathe. Heeseung would have been offering to wash the dishes for you by now, or finding some way to distract Hana while you caught a moment to yourself.

Instead, you were alone, flinching every time her voice rose, wishing that he were there to help you. The fact that you missed it—missed him—made you feel pathetic. Weak. Like you were the same stupid girl who was still hoping someone else would come and save you.

Hadn’t you learned anything at all?

The sound of Hana’s screaming kept rising, rough and confused. You looked at her, all red and blotchy from crying, her tiny body fighting to escape her highchair into a pair of arms that weren’t even there to hold her.

The tears that had threatened you all day finally spilled over, dripping down your cheeks and onto the backs of your hands as you pushed away from the counter, exhausted.

“I know,” You choked out, voice wavering. “I know you want him. I know, I know. I don’t know what to tell you.”

You pulled at the belt around her lap, and she lunged toward you, arms outstretched. You lifted her gently, careful not to catch her legs on the table as you pulled her into your chest, rubbing her back in a fruitless attempt to ease her distress.

Her face was wet against your neck, voice vibrating against you, feet digging into your stomach. You held her tightly, unable to stop yourself from crying with her.

You felt so angry. So betrayed. So ashamed.

How many times had you told yourself not to listen to him? Not to trust what he was offering, which had always sounded too good to be true.

A stable presence in your life? Someone to help you navigate the uncertainty of raising your daughter? Even just a pair of arms to crawl into at the end of the day?

Your own child’s father couldn’t offer you that. Why on earth did you think Heeseung would?

Because he told you he would, your heart said stubbornly. Because he begged you to let him.

You shook your head, carrying Hana down the hall to the bathroom. That excuse wasn’t good enough. Not for you. The sun set behind the trees, casting your house into a second night of empty silence, and all you could think was:

I knew better. I should have known better.

——

The next day, Hana woke with a fever.

You stayed home from work, called off the babysitter, prayed that if you kept giving her water and dressing her in her lightest clothes that it’d burn off on its own.

It didn’t.

Hana’s voice grew hoarse from crying as the day passed by, her temperature continuing to rise and fall long into the night.

You tried to remain calm about it, but you couldn’t help the twinge of unease that crept into the back of your mind as you watched the hours tick by. The sun set as you rubbed a gentle hand on her back. You were still there when it began to rise again the next morning.

Hana fussed in her crib, too tired to cry, too uncomfortable to sleep, as you grew more and more anxious.

Before you knew it, you were googling symptoms, trying not to catastrophize over every horrible disease and illness the internet suggested she might have.

Mommy forums debated over potential diagnoses and treatments. Some posts offered encouragement, others words of warning. You read story after story of people who’d brushed fevers off as cold symptoms, only to discover their child was experiencing a life-threatening infection.

DO NOT WAIT!! I made the mistake of waiting to take my daughter to the doctor for a fever and we ended up spending the weekend in the emergency room. Please don’t make my mistake!

Fevers aren’t really something to worry about unless it reaches above 102°F. If they last longer than 24 hours—at ANY temp—go to the doctor immediately.

You looked at the clock. It was pushing 6am. Your stomach twisted uneasily, a million horrible scenarios spinning through your mind.

You called your mom, apologizing for waking her up so early as you watched Hana squirm in her sleep, her hair damp with sweat.

“She’s still burning. It’s been almost a full day.” Your voice cracked as you spoke. You didn’t want her to know how overwhelmed you were. You couldn’t bare the shame that would come with her concern.

“I keep telling myself it’s just a fever, but what if it’s not? What if I’m waiting too long? God, I don’t even know if I can take her in. I had to call out yesterday—my boss is already pissed. If I lose this job...”

“Isn’t Heeseung with you? Can’t he take her?”

Your eyes burned.

You knew telling your parents about him was a mistake. It had only been a few weeks of being back together, but you hadn’t been able to keep it to yourself.

You’d been too excited, too happy about being with him to keep it a secret. Now, it only reminded you how foolish you’d been.

“He’s busy,” You lied, throat dry. “Work stuff. You know how it is for them.”

You heard your mom sigh over the phone. “I don’t like that he leaves you alone so often, y/n. Having a kid is a full-time job.”

Your jaw clenched. “Well, she’s not his kid.”

“No, I suppose not. Can you call Jace? I’m sure he’d be happy to give you a hand with her. At the very least, a ride to urgent care.”

Your grip tightened on your phone. “I guess. I’ll try. Thanks, mom. Sorry for waking you.”

“That’s okay, honey. Let me know if things get any worse, alright?”

You hummed, settling back into silence as you hung up.

Can you call Jace?

The thought hadn’t even crossed your mind. After your interaction earlier that week, talking to your ex was the last thing you wanted to do.

If you called him now, everything he said about you would be right. That you still needed him. That you were an idiot for trusting Heeseung.

You’re a smart girl, y/n, I find it hard to believe you’d fall for something like that. His words burned at the back of your throat.

You could see it now: his smug, gloating face, as he realized that he had you exactly where he wanted you. Alone. Desperate. Nowhere else to go.

But looking at Hana, you struggled to weigh your resentments toward him against her well-being. If your daughter was in danger, was there anything you wouldn’t do to help her?

Seeing her now, sweating in her crib, cheeks raw from all the crying, you realized that might have to include swallowing your pride.

You opened your phone again, avoiding the mommy blogs and tabs of medical advice, and found your text messages.

Heeseung’s name was at the top of the list.

You hesitated.

Thumb hovering over his name, you considered the possibility that maybe, just maybe, this could be an alternative to calling Jace. One you’d been too stubborn to entertain before. One that would likely result in nothing but an answering machine and the bitter taste of disappointment in your mouth.

But was it worth the try?

You clicked on his name, swallowing the lump in your throat as you unblocked his number and called it.

At first, you were surprised that it even rang. You’d figured Heeseung would have blocked you right back after discovering his texts weren’t sending. But then, you didn’t have any new messages coming in, and he probably didn’t care enough to even realize you’d blocked him in the first place.

The phone rang.

And rang.

Unanswered.

You weren’t sure why you stayed on the line. Maybe you didn’t want to believe that this was really over. That his phone was receiving your call and he was actively choosing not to pick up.

Maybe you just wanted to hear the sound of his voice.

It came out the speaker into your ear, warm and bright, absent-minded, like he had recorded the message in the middle of doing something else.

“Hey, sorry I missed you. Leave a message or shoot me a text. Talk to ya later. Bye.”

You clutched your phone, breath trembling slightly.

“Hey…” You began, suddenly overwhelmed with the feeling that this was the stupidest thing you’d ever done. “Sorry—this is… Hana’s sick. Um, she’s got a pretty bad fever, and I think she needs to see a doctor…” You trailed off, staring at the wall numbly. “Sorry, you clearly don’t want to be a part of this anymore. I guess I just—”

Your chest tightened, voice faltering.

“You told me to trust you. You said that I didn’t need to rely on Jace anymore. You got mad at me for relying on him, actually, because you wanted me to rely on you.”

You let out a tired laugh, rubbing a hand over your face. It was hard to believe you were back here. Leaving messages for people who couldn’t care less about you or your problems.

But who were you kidding? Heeseung was never going to listen to this. Your stream of unanswered texts told you as much.

“I guess I’m just confused. Confused because I was ready to do it, to stop pushing you away, and then you just… disappeared. And the funny thing is, I’m not even surprised. I mean, this was what I figured would happen all along, right?”

Your gaze fell, throat burning with a mix of embarrassment and regret. “You’re not even going to listen to this. I’m just gonna… I’m gonna call Jace and see if he can take us to urgent care. Hana’s fever isn’t breaking, and I’m worried it could be something serious. I guess I just thought you might want to know. Anyways… Goodbye, Heeseung.”

Your voice cracked as you hung up, hurrying to find Jace’s contact buried under your other texts. You feared that if you hesitated, even for a second, you wouldn’t do it.

The line rang twice before he answered. Your throat felt tight, like you wanted to scream, or cry, or throw up. Probably all three.

“Y/n?” He sounded groggy. It was barely 7am, after all. He was probably just waking up.

“Jace,” You answered, tensing. “It’s Hana.”

——

The ride to urgent care was quiet. Jace rested his elbow on the middle console between you, hand close enough that you could have taken it, if you wanted.

You didn’t.

He sat with you in the waiting room. Listened as the doctor quelled your fears about Hana’s fever. Nodded through the medication explanation and what to do if the fever wasn’t breaking—all as if he was the one who’d be taking care of her.

He managed to convince you to call your boss, who was gracious enough to give you the next few days off. Probably because you sounded half-dead, running on a few measly hours of sleep from two days ago.

Hana slept the whole time, waking only to protest as the doctor took her temperature, and falling back asleep before you’d even made it out of the building.

Jace watched the two of you carefully, as if waiting for the right moment to bring up what he’d said before. That he wanted to be a part of your lives. You desperately hoped that he wouldn’t. You were exhausted. And you weren’t sure if you had it in you to fight him off this time.

He waited until he was pulling into your driveway, his voice carefully even.

“I meant what I said, you know. About wanting to be around.”

“Jace,” You said quietly, the warning already in your tone.

“I’m not trying to make things harder,” He insisted. “I just—look at her. She deserves to know who her dad is.”

You closed your eyes, sighing. Your head was pounding. “She deserves stability. Not confusion. We can’t—” You took a breath. “I can’t keep letting people into her life who are only going to leave.”

“Come on, y/n. I’m here now.”

You clenched your jaw. “Where were you last month? Or the month before that? She turned two, did you know that?”

“I’m here now,” He repeated, like that was a reasonable answer to your questions.

“You don’t just get to drop in when you feel like it, Jace,” You said harshly, unbuckling your seatbelt and getting out of the car.

He followed, coming around the other side to stop you. He put a hand out as you opened Hana’s door, pushing it closed.

“Jace.”

“No, I’m not letting you do this anymore,” He hissed, eyes bright and angry. “You think you can just call me when you need something and then toss me aside once you get what you want? What is this, y/n? Why did you call me?”

“Because our daughter is sick! Because I’ve been awake for the past 48 hours, and I didn’t think it was a very good idea for me to get behind the wheel of a car.”

“Our daughter.” He repeated. “So you can admit that I’m her father but you won’t let me actually be a part of her life?”

“She might be your daughter,” You hissed, “But you will never be her father.” You glared at him, yanking the door handle open again.

He slammed it shut with more force this time, stepping closer.

“Don’t act like this is just about her,” He spat. “You needed someone, and he wasn’t there. So now you need me, right? The backup plan?”

Your mouth fell open. “Is that what you think this is?” Your voice was shaking. “You think I dragged myself out of bed, begged you to come, waited in that doctor’s office for forty-five minutes because I missed you?”

“You always do this,” He snapped. “You call when things are falling apart and then blame me for showing up.”

You shoved past him to open the door, unbuckling Hana with trembling fingers. She stirred, letting out a soft cry. “She doesn’t even know who you are.”

“Because you won’t let her!”

“Because you’re not what she needs!” You snapped back, pulling her to your chest. Her body was still hot. The medication from the doctor rattled in your bag as you adjusted her in your arms. “She doesn’t need people who only show up when I’m out of options—she needs people who are here. Every day. Who don’t disappear when they get tired of playing house.”

“Oh, you mean like Heeseung?”

The words hit like a slap to the face.

Jace’s lip curled at your shock. “Why isn’t he the one driving you to urgent care? Don’t tell me, I was right, wasn’t I? He finally figured out what a drag it is dealing with someone else’s kid and hit the road. Right?”

You ground your jaw. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“No? Then where is he, huh? Why’d you call me and not him?”

“Shut up, Jace. Go home.”

He stepped in again, hands flexing by his sides, like he knew he’d upset you. Like he was enjoying it. “You wanna play dumb with me? It’s written all over your face, y/n. He’s long gone. Couldn’t even pretend long enough to stick around.”

Your grip on Hana tightened, stomach twisting. “I want you to leave. Now.”

“Right, because you're still holding out hope he'll come crawling back?” Jace scoffed. “I’m her father. I have a right to see her.” “She doesn't know you!” You were yelling now. Both of you.

“You can’t just keep her from me—”

“She’s not a thing to be kept, Jace, she’s a child!” You shouted, your voice trembling with rage. “And I won’t let you confuse her just because you’re feeling left out.”

“So, what? You’re just gonna sit around hoping he comes back? Or maybe you already have another guy lined up. Is that it? Found someone else to burden with your issues? God, you’re so desperate, it’s pathetic.”

“Fuck you,” You hissed, turning to leave.

“Don’t you walk away from me.” He grabbed your shoulder, forcing you back around.

You gasped, shoving his hand away. “Don’t fucking touch me, Jace.”

“I’ll do what the fuck I want—”

“Jace—”

But he wasn’t listening. He pushed you. Hard. Shoved his hands into your shoulders like he was testing you, daring you to stand up to him again. Your grip tightened on Hana, panic rising up the back of your throat. He sneered, stepping towards you again. And then—

“Get your fucking hands off of her.”

Heeseung’s voice. So sharp and furious it didn’t even sound like him. Your breath caught as you turned to see him rushing towards you.

Your voice cracked, half surprise, half disbelief. “Heeseung—”

He shoved Jace back hard—both hands against his chest, slamming him away from you. “Leave. Now. Fucking get out of here, or I swear to god—”

Jace made a noise of surprise, stumbling back slightly. “Well, well, well. Look who decided to show up—”

“Do I need to spell it out for you?!” Heeseung was shouting. Frantic. His chest was heaving like he’d run there. His phone was clutched in his hand, your texts flashing from his screen. “If you touch her again, I will ruin your life.”

“You really think you’re going to scare me off?” Jace retorted. “You think you can walk in here and tell me what to do?”

His voice was sharp. “You put your hands on her.”

Jace scoffed. “I didn’t hurt her—”

“You grabbed her.” Heeseung stepped forward. “You raised your voice. You pushed her with a baby in her arms.”

“I’m her father,” Jace snapped.

“You’re a piece of shit,” Heeseung spat, hands shaking by his sides.

“You gonna hit me?” Jace taunted, folding his arms over his chest. “Real classy. Real dad material.”

“You wouldn’t know the first thing about what it takes to be a father.”

“Oh, and you do?”

“Know more than you? Yes. I’d say I do.” Heeseung’s breath came in sharp bursts. “I’ve been here. Every day that you weren’t. Your daughter turned two last month—where the fuck were you? Gone. As usual. The only reason you’re here right now is because I couldn’t be.”

You inhaled sharply. Couldn’t be? What was that supposed to mean? Your heart hammered against your chest as Heeseung snapped at Jace, half a mind to just take Hana and leave. To lock your door and ignore them both. But Heeseung kept going, his voice harsh. Accusing.

“I would have been here today,” He said. “If my manager hadn’t taken my phone because of the threat that you sent in.”

You stiffened.

“And I’m not going to stand here and let you make them feel unsafe.” He finished. “Not now. Not ever again.”

Your head spun.

Jace had done it? He’d threatened Heeseung’s managers? And they’d reacted by… taking Heeseung’s phone. Of course. Keeping him offline until they could figure out how to handle it.

Your heart stuttered as the realization sank in. You felt sick.

Jace’s face twisted, his knuckles turning white. “Whatever. Keep acting like you’re better than me. This little fantasy you guys have? Not gonna last.” He looked at you. “Don’t forget who you called for help.”

“She called me,” Heeseung snarled. “How many times does she have to reject you before you get it through your head?”

Jace closed his fists, his voice lowering. “You really want to do this?”

Heeseung hissed, “I fucking dare you.”

You tensed, taking a step back. For a moment, it looked like he might really do it. Might really step forward.

Then, Hana whimpered against your neck, too tired to fully take in the scene unfolding before her. She reached a hand towards Heeseung, her voice cutting through the air that crackled between them.

“Hee,” She cooed, pouting tiredly at him.

Heeseung froze.

You watched his entire body shift. He turned, breath hitching, shoulders dropping, eyes darting between the two of you. You saw it written all over his face—the regret, the apology. He stepped towards you, hesitantly, like he wasn’t sure you even wanted him to.

And for a moment, you weren’t sure either. You were still processing what he’d said, what it meant. That he hadn’t ignored you, or disappeared. That Jace was the reason you’d spent the past two days drowning in self-doubt. It took a moment for this to become real, for your mind to catch up to what your heart already knew.

But Hana was insistent, squirming towards him with surprising strength. You brought her closer, chest aching as you watched her latch onto his hand with her own.

“Hey, supergirl,” He whispered, leaning down to look at her.

Jace let out a sharp breath behind him. “Unbelievable. You let him—”

“Shut up,” You snapped, your voice low, lethal.

You looked back at Heeseung, heart racing. He brushed his thumb over Hana’s knuckles and you felt something in you give. Loosen. Like a weight finally falling off your shoulders.

It took one look at the two of them to confirm what you’d been clinging to all along: Heeseung hadn’t lied to you. He’d meant every word he’d said. About being there. About protecting what was his. And looking at him now, you realized how serious he was.

But Jace wasn’t done. He was never done. You came to this realization as he growled angrily, balling his fists. He would never be done bothering you, not until you cut him out of your life for good.

He stared at the three of you disdainfully. “I really do care about her, you know. That’s the funny thing. It’s just a shame that her mom is such a bitch.”

Heeseung’s face changed. Livid.

He dropped Hana’s hand and turned—shoulders coiled, fists clenched—like he was ready to swing this time. But the commotion of a group of people stopped him, their voices carrying over from the street.

Before you could even register it, they were there. All of them—Jake, Jungwon, Sunghoon, Jay, Sunoo, and Niki—and they’d heard him.

Sunghoon surged forward and shoved Jace, hard. “Say that again.”

The others stepped around you defensively as Jace grunted, hands flexing like he wanted to shove back. But Sunghoon was tall, taller than Heeseung even, and his expression faltered slightly as he took him in.

“Great. There’s more of you,” He said, eyes darting around as the rest of them approached.

You felt a twinge of satisfaction at the way he looked between them, counting how many of them there were. Second-guessing his chances.

“What’s going on?” Jungwon asked, stepping between you.

“I just said what everyone’s already thinking,” Jace snapped, posture shifting like he was trying to ground himself. “She’s got you all wrapped around her finger, doesn’t she? Playing house with seven different guys. She open her legs for all of you or—?”

He didn’t get to finish.

Heeseung lunged first.

The shove was violent, sending Jace stumbling back into the side of his car with a loud thud. You flinched, turning your body to shield Hana as chaos erupted around you.

“Heeseung—” You started, but Jake was already grabbing him by the shirt, hauling him back.

“Let go,” Heeseung snarled. Breath heavy, teeth bared. Vicious. “Let go of me.”

“Not here,” Jake gritted out, struggling to keep hold of him.

“What the hell is going on?” Sejin snapped, storming up to the group, but his voice was drowned out by the sound of Jace scoffing—bitter, mean. Like a dog backed into a corner; snapping at whatever was within reach.

“Did I hit a nerve?” He spat, wiping his mouth. “You know what? I should be thanking you for taking her off my hands. That bitch’ll turn on you the second she loses interest.”

Sunoo moved fast, stepping in between Jace and the others before Heeseung could break free. “Get the fuck out of here,” He said sharply, his usual sweetness replaced by something colder, more lethal. “Now. Before we make you.”

“You’re not gonna do shit,” Jace sneered. But there was hesitation in his voice. He was outnumbered. Everyone knew it.

Jungwon’s voice was hard. “You’re not welcome here. You show up again and you won’t be walking away.”

That made him pause. You could see the cracks forming in his confidence. His eyes skirted over the wall of people between you, and for the first time, he looked scared.

Sejin shoved his way through the group. He wasn’t the tallest person there—not by a long shot—but his presence was sturdy. Protective. Not just of his team, but of you, and your daughter.

“Jace Mitchell.” The name was sharp on his tongue.

Jace’s eyes darted over him. “What.”

“I’m glad we get to meet. You’ll be receiving contact from our legal team by tomorrow morning,” Sejin said, holding a hand out to steady Heeseung, who was shaking, fists clenched, brows taut.

Sejin’s voice wasn’t loud. It wasn’t even angry. It was critical. Deathly serious. “The email you sent earlier this week contains a documented threat of blackmail. One that we are taking very seriously.”

Jace scoffed. “That wasn’t—“

“It was,” Sejin interrupted. “You threatened to disclose private information about an individual and a minor, along with a member of our company. A highly protected member of our company. We have the message and we have your contact information with it. I'm sure a lawyer—which I strongly suggest you get in touch with—can explain the gravity of that.”

“You think I care about your stupid company?”

“I think you care about your job. And being within fifty feet of your daughter.”

Jace’s smile faltered.

“We take our employee’s safety very seriously. If you make contact again in any form—text, phone, email, in person—without y/n’s explicit consent, I will have a restraining order filed within twenty-four hours. You will never see that little girl again.”

Jace’s jaw ticked.

He looked around them before his eyes landed on you. Cold, accusing, full of hate.

He raised his hands. Surrendering. “I tried. You remember that. When this—” He pointed at Heeseung. “—doesn’t work out, don’t come crawling back to me.”

You glared back. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

His gaze swept over you, at your daughter asleep against your chest, at the way Heeseung was murmuring to the both of you, making sure you were alright.

“Whatever,” He muttered. “More trouble than you’re fucking worth.”

You watched him turn towards his car, fist shaking around his keys. Then, like he couldn’t help himself—

”Fucking slut.” He hissed under his breath.

Heeseung rounded, the others exclaiming as he stepped towards Jace. Jungwon grabbed him by the arm roughly, yanking him back, as Jace ducked into his car.

Jungwon slammed the door shut behind him, cursing as Jace's car pulled out of your drive.

For a moment, no one moved. The others were breathing heavily, their faces sharp with disgust.

Then, the exhaustion hit. Full force. The emotional wreckage of the past forty-eight hours crashed over your body, dragging you under. Your arms weakened, struggling to support Hana’s weight as she fussed against your hold.

“Y/n,” Heeseung said, already moving towards you.

Someone—Niki, you determined tiredly—took Hana from your arms as you stepped into Heeseung’s embrace, collapsing against his chest. In relief or exhaustion, you weren’t quite sure.

“I’m so sorry,” He breathed. “I’m so sorry— I tried to call you. They took my phone, they wouldn’t let me. I got your messages when they gave it back, and your voicemail, I— Are you okay?”

You shook your head, whimpering lightly. You could feel the heat of his heart at the base of his throat, pounding against your cheek. “No,” You said weakly. “Heeseung— I thought—“

You couldn’t even get the words out. Your brain was practically mush, spent from the emotional whiplash of everything that had happened. His grip on you tightened, fingers digging into you like he feared you might pull away.

“I know. I’m so sorry. I swear, if I could’ve been here—”

He pulled away, letting you go just enough to reach behind Niki to where Sejin was standing, yanking him towards you by the jacket.

“Well?” Heeseung said, frowning at his manager.

Sejin gave him a sideways look before rolling his eyes and sighing. He looked at you apologetically. “I’m sorry, y/n. I was the one that texted you. I admit it wasn’t the most informative message—“

“It wasn’t informative at all,” Heeseung interrupted. “Like, not even a little.”

Sejin pursed his lips. “Yes. It was poorly done on my part. I apologize for any distress I caused. Our focus was on keeping our team safe, I hope you can understand.”

You nodded, dazed, struggling to even remember what the text had said. All you knew was that Jace was gone. Heeseung was here. And you needed to rest. Immediately. Or you wouldn’t be standing much longer.

The others recounted the story of getting there as you went inside. Of how Heeseung had reacted after getting his phone back, reading all of your texts, listening to your voicemail.

How he’d demanded that Sejin show him the message he’d sent you, and then insisted that they come straight here.

“He was freaking out,” Jake said, bouncing Hana gently on his lap.

“We got stuck in traffic, and he literally got out of the car. That’s why he got here first. He ran the rest of the way,” Jungwon laughed.

Heeseung’s ears turned slightly pink but he didn’t deny it.

“I was scared,” He reasoned, frowning as they continued to tease him. “You said Hana was sick, I didn’t know if she was okay— You said goodbye!! Like we were breaking up or something!”

“Yeah, Heeseung’s worst nightmare,” Niki laughed.

Heeseung shot him a glare but didn’t move his arm from behind you. If anything, he pulled you closer, like he couldn’t stand to be apart from you again, not even for a moment.

“I was scared, too,” You sighed, letting your head rest against his shoulder. “I’m sorry that he caused so much trouble for you. And that you had to see all of that. It’s my fault. If I hadn’t—“

“No way,” Jake said immediately, voice firm. “None of this is your fault, y/n.”

“We’re just sorry that we didn’t communicate with you better,” Sunghoon agreed. “Sejin is…”

“Blunt.”

“Good when you need to smack someone’s crazy ex down. Not so much when you need to deliver sensitive information,” Jay said.

A laugh escaped you, quiet, tired, but genuine. You felt your shoulders begin to drop, days worth of anxiety melting away. Being there with them—Heeseung’s sturdy presence beside you, the softness in the others’ voices as they cooed at Hana—healed something in you that, for a few days, you were sure might never heal again.

Your attention drifted back to your daughter, to the way she was beginning to droop against Jake’s chest, her fingers curled in the fabric of his shirt. Her lashes fluttered, torn between watching the toys in his hands and giving in to how tired she was.

Yours felt similarly, your head growing heavier and heavier against Heeseung’s shoulder.

He pressed his lips to the top of your hair. “Time to go?” He murmured, just loud enough for you to hear.

You nodded, grateful as he straightened to usher the others out. God, how you’d missed him. The soft attentiveness in his voice, how he always had his eye on what you needed. How he made sure you were the priority. Every single time.

Part of you wondered how you’d doubted him in the first place.

“Alright guys, time to head out,” He said. He clasped Jay’s hand, pulling him for a hug. “Thank you. For being here. Backing us up.”

“Always,” Jake said, lifting Hana carefully from his chest and handing her to you. “If you need anything, we’re here.”

“See you later, y/n,” Jungwon said, rubbing your back affectionately.

You hugged him, chest tight with emotion. You’d never be able to explain what their presence meant to you. How grateful you were to have them—all of them—in your life.

They grabbed their things and slipped their shoes back on, shuffling out the door.

“Dinner this weekend? Same old-same old?”

You nodded, grinning. “Of course.”

You wished you could say you and Heeseung had some kind of heartfelt, emotional reunion when it was just the two of you. Filled with tears and happy kisses, mumbled apologies and promises.

But you didn’t.

You were out. Immediately. The second your body hit the mattress, shoulders curled into Heeseung’s chest, your head tucked beneath his, you were asleep.

He stayed up for a while, unable to tear his eyes from your face, or keep his heart from racing at the feeling of finally having you in his arms again.

His chest ached at the memory of your voice through the phone. How broken you sounded. How sure you were that he’d left you. You’d really believed he was gone. That you were alone again.

He would never forgive himself for that.

And if he hadn’t been sure before, he certainly was now: he was never letting you out of his sight again. At least, not for a while.

He still had tours to think about. There were obligations he couldn’t avoid, stretches of time when the distance would be real, and difficult. But he wasn’t afraid of it anymore. Didn’t worry that it would create space between you.

He wanted to keep going. To do well. Not just because you’d always been proud of him—celebrated every success like it was your own—but to support you. To make sure you never had to worry about caring for your daughter again.

Heeseung was serious about you. As serious as a person could be about someone else.

And he was going to make sure you never doubted it again.

#guppiechuu ⭑.ᐟ #lee heeseung #lee heesung x reader #enhypen #enhypen angst #heeseung fanfic #heeseung angst

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botanicsoul · 3 months ago

Text

DARE

Bakugou Katsuki x (fem) Reader

𖤐ᝰ.ᐟ𖦹₊⊹ 𖤐ᝰ.ᐟ𖦹₊⊹ 𖤐ᝰ.ᐟ𖦹₊⊹ 𖤐ᝰ.ᐟ𖦹₊⊹ 𖤐ᝰ.ᐟ𖦹₊⊹

The night had started harmless enough.

The girls were gathered in Mina’s room — junk food scattered everywhere, a stupid Truth or Dare game spiraling out of control. You should’ve known something was up when they all kept sneaking glances at you.

Especially Mina.

Mina leaned forward, mischievous glint in her eye. “Alright, Y/N, truth or dare?”

You hesitated. “…Dare?” you said cautiously.

Bad choice.

“I dare you to sneak into Bakugou’s room and put on his hero costume,” she said, grinning like the devil himself.

“You’re insane,” you said immediately, sitting up. “He’ll actually kill me. Like, dead-dead.”

“Come on! You know he’s soft for you,” Uraraka giggled behind her hand. “He won’t even be mad.”

“Yeah, he might even like it— we all know he wants you babe,” Mina wiggled her eyebrows. “Besides, if you do it… I’ll buy you those shoes you’ve been whining about for weeks.”

You froze.

Those perfect, gorgeous sneakers you couldn’t afford.

Damn her.

“…Fine,” you groaned. “But when he blows up the building, I’m blaming you.”

Mina and the girls erupted in quiet cheers, practically shoving you toward the boys’ dorm wing like you were being sent to your execution.

——

Moments later, you were standing inside Bakugou’s room, your heart thundering in your chest.

The room smelled like him — burnt caramel, gunpowder, and something warm underneath it all. His gear was scattered around; shirts tossed over a chair, gym bag half-zipped, boots by the door. Typical.

“Okay, just grab it and go,” you whispered.

You spotted his hero suit neatly folded on his desk chair — black, orange, and rugged as hell. You hesitated for half a second before snatching it up and shimmying into it.

“Whoever is up there please don’t let me die,” you muttered to yourself, grabbing it.

You started stripping from your clothes and wrestled into the top first — the fabric huge, sleeves dangling past your hands. You tucked it into the pants, which, unfortunately, fit suspiciously well around your hips.

You caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror.

You looked ridiculous.

“Oh my god, I look like a fan at a con,” you groaned, cheeks burning.

And then you spotted the gauntlets.

Those massive grenade-shaped wrist-cannons Bakugou wore like they weighed nothing.

You hesitated.

“How heavy can they be?” you muttered, reaching for one.

Answer: Fucking. HEAVY.

As soon as you tried to lift it, your wrist sank like a stone. You barely managed to drag it up to your elbow. You grunted, using both hands, nearly toppling over.

“Holy shit, what is this, like seventy pounds?!” you gasped, wobbling around like a baby deer.

You tried lifting both gauntlets — a mistake.

The second one yanked you down so hard you dropped onto your knees with a loud thud.

“KILL ME NOW,” you whispered dramatically, struggling to even stay upright.

You were panting, red-faced, arms trembling like a noodle trying to balance the absurd weight.

And that’s when you heard heavy footsteps outside the door.

You were mid-struggle — sweating, cursing under your breath — when you heard the faintest creak in the hallway.

Your blood ran cold.

Outside, Bakugou was stomping toward his room — still pissed off from a shitty sparring session. All he wanted was a shower and his bed.

But when he reached his door and noticed it slightly ajar, his instincts screamed at him.

Someone was inside.

Without hesitation, he kicked the door open, the wood slamming into the wall with a loud crack.

“WHAT. THE. FUCK” he started. Because there you were. Standing in his room. Wearing his goddamn hero suit.

Struggling to lift one of his heavy-ass grenade gauntlets while looking like you were about to cry.

For a long moment, neither of you moved.

You blinked at him, caught like a deer in headlights. The sleeves hung off your arms, the fabric clinging to the curve of your waist and hips, the belt loose around you — and those gauntlets, way too big for you, dragging along the floor.

Bakugou’s red eyes darkened — not with anger, but something hotter. Something hungry.

“The hell do you think you’re doing?” he growled, low and rough.

Your face flushed deep red. “I-it’s not what it looks like…well I mean kinda but—”

“Looks like you’re trying real hard to make me lose my goddamn mind,” he cut you off, stepping inside, the door swinging shut behind him with a heavy click.

You stumbled back instinctively, bumping against the desk, heart hammering.

Bakugou stalked closer, the heat from his body practically rolling off him.

“You break into my room,” he muttered, voice dropping dangerously low, “Wearin’ my gear,” — he leaned in, caging you between his arms, his palms slamming flat against the desk on either side of you — “dress up like some fuckin’ fantasy — and think you’re just gonna walk away?”

You whined as one gauntlet slipped off your wrist, almost tipping you over. “I-it was a dare! Mina—”

Bakugou huffed a humorless laugh.

Without effort, he reached down and easily grabbed both massive gauntlets from you like they were pillows. You stared in shock as he tossed them aside with a heavy clang.

His turned back down at you with a smirk, almost cocky, predatory. “You look like shit,” he said bluntly. “But… you also look kinda fuckin’ hot wearin’ my colors.”

Your breath hitched.

He was so close now — you could see the golden flecks in his furious crimson eyes, the way his jaw clenched tightly, the tension practically crackling off him.

“It was a dare I swear…” you whispered weakly.

“Don’t care,” Bakugou muttered.

You swallowed hard, chest heaving.

His gaze dropped down your body, dragging slowly over every inch of you — the oversized top slipping off your shoulder, the snugness of the pants on your hips.

When his eyes flicked back up to yours, they were molten.

“Bet you’d look even better outta ’em,” he murmured, his voice like honey.

You whimpered — actually whimpered — and immediately cursed yourself for it.

Bakugou grinned — slow, wolfish — like he’d just found his favorite new toy.

Your knees wobbled. “Suki…i’m sor—” you whispered.

He didn’t give you a chance to finish.

Without warning, he grabbed you by the belt loops, yanked you against him, and crushed his mouth onto yours.

The kiss was hungry, punishing — all teeth and tongue and pent-up frustration.

You gasped, clutching his shirt, letting him devour you, dizzy from the heat pouring off his body.

When he finally pulled back, he was panting, forehead pressed against yours.

“Mine,” he growled against your lips, nipping sharply at your lower lip, making you gasp again. “You got that, princess? You wanna wear my shit, fine — but you better fuckin’ know you belong to me.”

You nodded shakily, dazed, drunk off the taste of him. Bakugou pulled back slightly — just enough to glare at you, his hands still gripping your waist, thumbs sliding dangerously low toward the hem of the pants.

“Next time you wanna play dress-up,” he rasped, smirking wickedly, “ask me first and I’ll even help you out of em’.”

The look in his eyes promised a lot more than just help and you — flushed, panting, brain short-circuiting — could only whisper, “Okay…”

Bakugou chuckled darkly, pressing one more bruising kiss to your mouth before leaning back.

“Good,” he said, tugging the belt around your waist tight with a hard snap, making you squeak. “Now get ready, princess. You started this shit — you’re not walking outta here anytime soon.”

——

The next afternoon, you sat cross-legged on Mina’s bed, surrounded by the girls, trying very hard to act normal.

Your new sneakers — the ones Mina had bribed you with — sat unopened in the box on your lap.

“Come on, open it already!” Mina whined, bouncing beside you.

You shifted awkwardly, biting back a grimace. Your thighs ached. Your hips ached. Hell, even your neck was a little sore.

Turns out, Bakugou was very, very thorough about claiming what was “his” last night.

You coughed, sitting up straighter, ignoring the smug way Mina was side-eyeing you.

“I’m fine,” you muttered defensively, opening the box.

Inside were the sneakers you’d been dreaming about — sleek, perfect, untouched.

You gasped. “Holy shit… they’re even prettier in person!”

Mina clapped excitedly. “See? Totally worth it!”

You snorted. “Yeah, tell that to my back.”

Mina laughed. “You’re welcome. Besides, don’t pretend you didn’t have a good night.”

You flushed from head to toe. “Mina!” you hissed, smacking her with a pillow.

The other girls burst out laughing.

Before you could defend yourself, your phone buzzed in your lap.

——

Explosion boy <3 :

5:35pm - Come to my dorm later.

5:36pm - Or do you need help gettin’ here, princess?

5:36pm - Bet you’re fuckin’ sore.

5:37pm - Want me to come kiss it better?

——

You squeaked audibly and immediately dropped your phone like it burned you.

“Who’s that?” Mina teased, leaning over.

“N-Nobody!” you yelped, clutching the sneakers like they were a lifeline.

But your red face said it all.

Across the room, Mina smirked like she’d just won the lottery.

“Told you,” she whispered to Uraraka. “Soft spot. Huge.”

And maybe…

just maybe…

you weren’t totally mad about it.

𖤐ᝰ.ᐟ𖦹₊⊹ 𖤐ᝰ.ᐟ𖦹₊⊹ 𖤐ᝰ.ᐟ𖦹₊⊹ 𖤐ᝰ.ᐟ𖦹₊⊹ 𖤐ᝰ.ᐟ𖦹₊⊹

#mha #my hero academia #bnha x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #mha bakugou #bakugou katuski x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugou smut #bnha bakugou #botanicwrites #boku no hero academia #bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugou #bakugou x y/n #bakugou katsuki x you #bakugou katsuki x fem reader #bakugou smut #katsuki smut

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hot-patootiee · 3 months ago

Text

Part 2 of this. And can you tell I had issues with my ex? Like holy shit I’m having flashbacks writing this.

Nancy stands up and walks over to Eddie though, and gently pushes him towards the door.

“Go fix it.” She demands.

Eddie makes a confused sound as he is gently pushed out of the house, having to push open the door or be squished into it.

…

When Steve’s doorbell rings again, he’s getting a little annoyed.

He swings open the door and Eddie is there.

Steve begins to close the door.

Unfortunately he is forced to deal with his feelings, so Eddie puts a hand on the door and pushes it open.

“Did you think we were dating?” Eddie seems almost accusatory in his tone, which immediately annoyed Steve.

“What do you mean by ‘think’ Eddie? I asked you out, you said yes.” Steve was still trying to shut the door in Eddie’s face, but he looked more angry than sad. “Unless this is some sort of strange apology and declaration of love, I don’t wanna hear it.”

“It is! It is! Just don’t close the door.” Steve furrows his brows and lets the door swing open.

Eddie stumbles in, tripping over the entrance and nearly falling into Steve.

Steve stares at Eddie, waiting.

“I thought you were just experimenting and I’m so sorry for thinking your confession was a joke.” Eddie says sincerely, shifting slightly on his feet in discomfort.

“You think everything I do is a joke. Everyone does! Poor little Steve Harrington gets hit in the head too many times and now is incapable of a coherent thought.” Steve finishes with a self deprecating laugh. His eyes are shining and Eddie can see the rage festering in them, the resignation transforming into simmering anger.

Eddie opens his mouth to refute it, but is cut off instead.

“Was kissing me a joke too? Am I too stupid to know?” Steve moves into Eddie’s face, crowding him before pulling back suddenly. A strong gust reminds Eddie the door is open and anyone close enough could hear them.

“No, no of course not. Shouldn’t we close the door?” Eddie suggests.

“You’re the dumbass who didn’t close it. There is no we in that.” Steve sneers at Eddie’s implication at Steve being incompetent.

“You’re right, I’m sorry.” Eddie murmurs, pushing the door hard and letting it swing shut. His shoulders are hunched, as if he was trying to placate Steve by making himself smaller.

“I thought you were different, I put up with everybody else calling me stupid all the time, because most of them are children, and I thought you, my boyfriend, was different. But, apparently, you think I’m too incompetent with my own feelings that you need to make the judgement for me.”

“I thought you were joking.” Eddie repeated, Steve was honestly beginning to hear the needle on the vinyl from how many times Eddie had been repeating himself.

“And when I kissed you, was I still just joking?” Steve probed.

“No, can you just let me explain for a second?” Eddie spat his words out quickly, knowing if he went slower Steve would continue to yell at him.

“No, because you’re charging in here with some half cocked apology to try to fix something, just because someone else pointed out that you should. You need to feel better, so you came over to apologize, without considering that I’ve been wallowing in my house for days because of something you did. Actually fucking apologize because you feel bad about putting me in pain, not because you want to stop being uncomfortable with your own actions.” Steve lectured, he massaged the bridge of his nose slightly in an attempt to alleviate his own frustration.

“What do you want me to do? How do I fix this?”

“Those are questions you have to answer yourself. Maybe apologize with something that screams ‘sorry for thinking our entire relationship was a joke’. If you come here with some fucking flowers or chocolate and think that that’s adequate, I will break your fucking guitar.” The wrinkles in Steve’s brow just became deeper as he threatened Eddie. His muscles trembled slightly as he reminded himself of how angry he was.

Eddie nods, looking slightly resigned.

“Oh, and your fucking behavior should change, treat me like a goddamn person. I pulled your ass out of hell, I’ve proved myself to be capable a thousand times over. Treat me like I am.” Eddie couldn’t help but focus on how Steve’s hands shook.

Eddie nods and begins to pull away from Steve, looking sad as he slowly moves to the door.

“What are you doing?” Steve looked genuinely puzzled, prompting Eddie to stop with his hand on the doorknob.

“I’m leaving, I didn’t think you’d want me here.” Eddie shrugged, looking a lot like a kicked puppy as he whimpered. He then began to turn the doorknob to exit the Harrington house.

“What did I just say about making decisions for me?” Steve has his hip cocked and his hands resting on his waist in his signature annoyed mom look. Eddie freezes, unknowing of what to do.

“Come on, go to my room and wait, I just need to run the dishes.” Steve shoos Eddie, who quickly scampers up the stairs and slipped inside Steve’s room. He was unsure of what to do so he waited at the foot of the bed, sitting on the edge of it.

He isn’t sure how long he waits, but Steve finally pads into the room.

Steve pushes Eddie onto his back. Crawling inbetween his legs.

Eddie opens his mouth to express his confusion, but is interrupted by a firm “scooch” which spurs Eddie into backing up into the headboard. Steve follows quickly behind.

Steve tucks himself into Eddie’s collarbone. He settles easily, even though Eddie is still incredibly tense.

“Tell me the other thing you came here to say.” Steve demands.

“Oh darling I like you so much. I’ll stay with you forever, I’m so sorry for leaving.” Eddie rambles, like the floodgates holding him back had been released.

“Again?” Steve said quietly, barely louder than his breath.

“I like you a lot, Steve. I got the biggest crush on you. Never thought you’d ever like someone like me. I don’t deserve you.” Eddie ends with a damn near whimper, but Steve’s resolve didn’t change in the face of Eddie’s words.

“You’re right, you don’t. You left me and you were planning on leaving me again if I didn’t accept your apology. It’s been days and all I want is to be with my boyfriend.” Steve’s voice slowly tampered down to a whisper as he spoke.

“I didn’t think of it like that.” Eddie murmured shamefully.

“Yea, no shit.” Steve snapped.

“I’m sorry.”

“Your formal apology better be fucking amazing.” Steve countered playfully.

“I’ll do my best.” Eddie pauses for a second. “What if it’s not good enough?”

“Then I break up with you.” Eddie deflates slightly. Steve continues though. “I can’t be with someone who doesn’t value me or respect me, I’ve made that mistake before.”

Eddie felt his stomach sink, but began to brainstorm on how to make it up to Steve.

Btw El and Will are making Brownies for Steve rn.

PART 3 IS HERE

Omg I’m such an ass, pt 3 coming soon if I’m harassed enough to do it.

Also, psa if you fuck up big, you need to actually show you’re sorry. Don’t apologize to make yourself feel better, apologize to make the other person feel better. Make an actual effort to not repeat your past actions. If someone doesn’t accept your apology, remember you aren’t entitled to their forgiveness. No matter how much society tries to act like you deserve it for simply apologizing.

Also if it isn’t evident, I was forced to accept a lot of apologies when I didn’t want to.

@stripey82 @genderfluidbitch @mensch-anthropos-human @c4tharsys @scoops-aboy86 @breealtair @raleighrox @wannabe-edgy-grandpa @flustratedcas @shoujo-wizard @polysdoitforscience @exasperatedsighohmy @piemaker93 @tinyplanet95 @skepticalqueen @sharingisntkaren @scarletyeager @crypticcrytid @midnightskeeper @wheneverfeasible @ancientwormcivilization @fucjinf-whatever-dude @estrellami-1 @queenofshenanigans @grilledcheesehasfeelings <- get out of my walls

@ellietheasexylibrarian @live-laugh-love-dietrich @turinspeachjam @me-ig7 @revevivant @motherofpirates @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @samsoble @legalmenace87 @thehanwen @bigspongey @thedragonsaunt @newagemyth @pentapoctopus @my-hyperfixations-hell-blog @bumbledoubletea @blackbirdflyflyfly @what-if-a-dragon @reddiandbyler4life @i-think-i-thunk @gregre369 @fiddledeedee85 @ladykailitha

Rest of the mentions will be in the comments because fuck there is a lot of you.

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #fanfic #nancy wheeler

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ccsainzleclerc5516 · 8 months ago

Text

Co Parents To Lovers Again (part 2)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x reader

Warnings: fluff (smut in the next part)

part 1

It's been three days since the unfortunate misunderstanding with Charles and you haven't heard from him at all since.

You were overthinking the whole situation that happened on Sunday and couldn't come to any proper conclusion. At the same time, you were sad because he thought you would bring someone else into your bed, even though it wasn't your shared bed anymore, but you couldn't believe that he thought so little of you after all the years you'd spent together.

And yet on the other hand, you were thinking like any woman, you were glad that he was jealous and that the very thought of someone replacing him bothered him because that only meant he wasn't over you and that he still wanted to make things right between you two. Basically, you were torn between your brain and your heart once again and it was just a matter of what would prevail between the two this time.

Even though deep down you knew you couldn't fight yourself. You broke up over some disagreements that when you look at things more closely weren't worth destroying your relationship and your little family. You were both stubborn, he was a little too possessive, you were lacking in understanding, parenting, you spent most of your time alone with Lou and everything came together and exploded.

Now that you look back on the whole year you spent without him, you know that as hard as it is sometimes to be with him, it's ten times harder to be without him. You realize that you both made a rash decision, but then again maybe it had to happen only to make you realize how much you need each other in every way possible.

It's Wednesday night and while you're preparing tonight's dinner and tomorrow's lunch, Lou is sitting at the dining room table drawing. Soon your cooking is interrupted by the ringing of your phone on the kitchen island. A strange feeling comes over you as you wipe your hands on a dish towel and look at your phone only to see Charles' name on the screen.

You want to answer the phone, but you don't want the conversation to end in an argument so before you pick up the phone, you take a deep breath and try to calm down and strengthen your voice so it doesn't sound shaky.

"Hello?"

"Hey, it's me." He says it in a completely normal, calm tone and you're grateful for that.

"Hey, what's up?"

"Umm, I'm leaving tomorrow for the race so I was wondering if you could put Lou on the facetime so I can see her since I won't be able to have her for the weekend?" He asks.

"Sure, just let me switch to facetime."

Once you did, Charles face appeared on the screen and he smiled when he saw yours too. You tried to hide the blush on your face and quickly walked over to Lou putting the phone in front of her.

"Baby, daddy wants to talk to you" You said setting the phone in front of her and leaving them alone to talk.

Since the kitchen and dining room were connected, you went back into the kitchen and could hear everything the two of them were saying. You didn't want to eavesdrop, but you kinda did.

"Hey, daddy!" Lou exclaimed excitedly.

"Mon ange, what are you doing?"

"I'm drawing and-and mommy is cooking" She says.

"Yeah? What are you drawing?"

"I'm drawing you in a red car. See" She says putting up the paper in front of the camera for him to see.

"Good job, baby. It looks great!"

"It's for you, I will give it to you when you come get me" She says forgetting that she won't be spending the weekend with him.

"Thank you, baby, but unfortunately we won't be together this weekend because papa has to work, but we'll see each other next week, okay?"

"Oh.." She pouts.

"Don't be sad, we'll see each other very soon, okay? I miss you so much and I'm thinking of you all the time."

Your heart is completely softened by his words and the immeasurable amount of love he has for your daughter.

"I miss you too, daddy"

"Okay, baby. I'll talk to you soon, I love you."

"Bye, I love you too." She says waving her hand as he blows her a kiss.

You watch her from afar and see how her mood immediately changed when she heard that she wouldn't be seeing him. Shaken by emotions, you move closer to her and squat down next to her.

"What's wrong, bug?" You ask her.

She doesn't look at you but frowns looking down at drawing on the paper in front of her.

"I miss papa" She says, hear eyes filled with tears.

"Can I tell you a little secret?" You say and she nods. "I miss papa too." You whisper making her look at you.

"Would you like to watch him race this weekend?"

"You mean on the TV?" She asks.

"No, I mean how about we go and see him?" You suggest and her eyes light up.

"Really?!"

"Would you like that?"

"Yes, yes! And I can give him this!" She says excitedly and you chuckle at how sweet she is.

"Then we have a deal. Now, finish up your drawing and go wash your hands because dinner is almost ready okay?"

"Okay, mommy. Thank you"

Nothing can compare to the happiness you feel when you see your daughter happy. Both you and Charles would do anything for her, and that's why you decided to quickly run upstairs to your bedroom, turn the hoodie right side out.

When a print of an F1 car was visible on the black hoodie, you took a picture of it and sent it to Charles without any additional explanation, because you knew that everything would be clear as a day to him once he saw it.

After just a few minutes, your phone vibrated in your hands.

'Been looking for it for a while now..' Charles' message said.

'I really fucked up this time, didn't I?' He added.

'You kinda did.' You replied.

'I'm so sorry, y/n..'

'You're lucky your daughter adores you so much and you better send a plane for the two of us so we can make it to the race on time.'

part 3

@charlesgirl16 @aleatorio1234 @teamnovalak @watermelonslut @diaryofarandomkid @sunny44 @tempo-rary-fix @ggaslyp1 @janeh22 @seonghwaexile @seasonswinter @itgirlofthecenturysposts @ricciardosredbull @amz824 @sarx164

#f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 scenario #f1 smut #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc x reader #f1 x female reader #f1 blurb #f1 fluff #f1 one shot #f1 imagine

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buckiverse · 10 months ago

Text

Surrender to You

☆--- paring: sylus x reader

☆--- summary: You suggested a reluctant marriage of convenience due to your struggles in the N109 Zone. Now Sylus, will show you what it truly means to surrender both body and heart to him.

☆--- word count: 6.2k

☆--- warnings: mdni, oral sex, mating press, missionary, bit of background story (not really lore accurate), reader is a virgin, soft!dom sylus, size kink if you squint, sylus is in love fr, no protection is used (wrap it before you tap it)

☆--- a/n: the amount of time it took me to edit this was a bit ridiculous

The N109 Zone has danger lurking throughout it. From the darkest alleys to the stores, they all had one thing in common: The prioritization of information. That is your current motivation. You need more information and quick. Since the death of your beloved family members, you could no longer be complacent. It’s been hard being left in the dark. You thought you could trust the hunter’s association to be honest with you, but that was a lie.

You asked around a lot… from your hunting partner, Xavier, to your colleague Tara and even your boss, Jenna. No one could answer you honestly. Most of them barely “knew” what the N109 Zone was besides the fact that it was perilous. But that much was obvious.

You took to your own devices, relying on your resourcefulness. You looked online and did intensive research. All you could find out was that a significant catastrophe had transpired... Wander's took over, something to do with the state of protocores, resulting in a significant division between city areas. As a result, the sub-city known as the N109 Zone was established. You could not explain why, but you were sure it was due to the deaths of your parents, as well as your grandmother and childhood friend.

Initially, the plan was to invade the area, get information, meet some people, and decipher everything while remaining incognito. Unfortunately, it didn’t go that way. You were kidnapped by the most prominent organization in the N109 Zone, Onyichinus. Run by… Sylus? “Yeah, who the hell was that?” you thought aloud. You had never heard of this dude; I mean Onyichinus... Yes. But, even the Hunter’s Association defined the organization as faceless. It was an arduous task to uncover the head of the unit.

So that is how you ended up here, making a bargain with the devil. The other factions in the area had been restless since discovering your Protocore Syndrome. It was considered a hot commodity. Everywhere you turned, there was danger. This made your job to find the truth more difficult. As a result, you only partially appreciated Sylus's presence.

“Look, all I want is some information,” you said. Your eyes narrowed as you took in Sylus’s figure.

“Ah, is that so? And what exactly do you want to know? Everything comes with a price.” he replied. His head tilted slightly, a slight smirk forming on his lips.

You thought carefully, considering your following response. “It’s not your business; just know that intelligence on Protocore Syndrome has spread, and it’s impossible to handle business. So I’d like to make a deal.”

“And what would that be?” Sylus reacted with amusement.

You replied swiftly, not missing a beat. “We should marry,” you responded confidently.

Sylus arched an eyebrow, his eyes flashing with something, almost a mix of interest and amusement– that smug bastard, you thought. You attempted to hide your scour; you needed this more than you needed to get one over on the gray-haired man.

“And how does this deal benefit me?”

“That’s for you to decide and for us to discuss,” you acknowledged. A great silence overcame the room of Sylus's office. You stared at him, holding your resolve, waiting for a reply.

“Deal”, he replied suddenly. You disguised your surprise, sticking out your right hand to shake his. “Good then.” You said, recovering swiftly.

“I will handle the guests; you handle the small planning details. Utilize Luke, Kieran, and my card.” Your thoughts were threatened by disbelief. The ease with which he was complying with this was astounding. You wondered, honestly, what Sylus gets out of the arrangement. You told yourself it's nothing to do with you. Finding the truth is what matters; this is only one more step to complete your goal.

☆---

The venue you chose was stunning. The ceiling mirrored the most beautiful mosaics. The depictions of gods and angels were magnificent. You had never seen something so gorgeous. You reflected on the story presented in the ceiling. What would your life be like under this 'arrangement'? This was serious. It was real and binding. You were having second thoughts, wondering if the information was worth it all. But you encouraged yourself, "Of course, it’s worth it, y/n! How can you live the rest of your life without knowing the truth?” you affirmed aloud, looking around the venue. Everything felt real now. It's only been a few weeks at the Onyichinus base, but it has been productive intel-wise.

Moving on through your tour, you looked straight ahead at the expansive hall where the ceremony would occur. It was covered in intricate detail. The mosaic patterns worked down the walls, creating various shapes of circles and rectangles in its stead. In front of the walls was a white display of roses. The flowers were delicately spread throughout the venue, covering the reflected pattern on the marble floors. You moved your feet, looking to where the audience would be. Your heart plummeted when you realized you would only know Sylus, Luke, and Kieran. "It is just business, y/n," you said to yourself, adjusting your expression.

You truly outdid yourself; aside from the grandeur of the ceiling and walls, the remainder of the venue echoed the luxurious color schemes of white and black, with gold touches throughout. It was beautiful, but it was purely professional. Despite the vibrancy around you, you could not help but feel the sterility of the place. You kept your guard up, even to yourself. This is a warzone, and you have allowed Sylus to invite danger.

As you walked to the reception area, you could not help but admire the luxurious atmosphere. The black marble floors mirrored the massive tree in the center of the room. Chandeliers dangled from the strong branches, illuminating the space. You wandered around the white gold seats and tables, admiring the centerpieces. A glass foundation supported large bouquets of white roses in the center of the table. Each table had the right tableware and a black tablecloth folded into black swans. Reminding you of the rationale for your decision, you must persevere to achieve actual change.

You looked up as you approached the grand double doors at the end of the hall and noticed Sylus watching you silently. "I trust you managed the guest list," you remarked, jerking out of your thoughts. “Of course, sweetie. Only the most important people. Though I did include a few surprises—what is a wedding without some fun?" he quipped. You rolled your eyes at that. Why is he always insisting on pet names? This is not meant to be authentic.

“This is supposed to be a business arrangement, Sylus. ‘Fun’ wasn't exactly part of the plan.” You sighed harder than you wanted to, and Sylus simply responded with a slight smirk and laughter.

“Whatever you say… sweetie.” He then turned and made his way out of the wedding venue, leaving you standing there in shock. “Well–are you coming? Assuming you’re hungry, should I let you continue standing there looking lost?” You felt your face flush.

“Fine,” you said, quickly moving through the grand double doors. You slipped outside, watching as Sylus opened the car door for you.

☆---

A few days later, you found yourself in the venue's dressing room, staring yourself down. “This is fucking crazy,” you exclaimed. The realization struck once more: this is happening.

You were wearing the most stunning gown. It was covered in thousands of tiny diamonds, sewn individually into the dress. The neckline reminded you of a wide v-neck as it rested between the valley of your breasts. Pushing them out just enough–you looked amazing. The dress was perfectly fitted to your curves, and you turned to admire your backside, noticing the cutout of the dress. The fabric rested just above the crack of your ass, but you could not help but admire your good looks.

‘One thing Sylus definitely can provide is unlimited money,’ you laughed out loud. Turning back to face yourself, you admired the mermaid bottom of the dress accentuating your curvy body. You felt like a whole new person.

Your swirling thoughts were cut short by the knocking on the door. “Yes?” you replied, swiftly turning towards the sound. Luke and Kieran opened the door and made their entrance. "Wow," they said in unison. "You look so beautiful, y/n!" Luke said. "The boss will undoubtedly love this dress on you," Kieran remarked. "And off," Luke added, getting pushed in the arm by Kieran. Your cheeks warmed at the statement; you had not considered consummating the marriage.

Because once again, this is business, you convinced yourself. Even though Sylus is beautiful, his eyes, nose, and plump lips… “Anyway, this note is from the boss. We’ll see you out there, y/n,” said Kieran. You took the note from him and watched as they both walked out.

A shudder ran down your spine as you held the note in your palm. You looked up to see Mephisto, who "cawed" at you as he flew through the open door.

“He’s probably running to tell Sylus I got his note,” you commented, side-eyeing the door. The note had a red wax seal on the front of the black envelope. You opened it, and a little pop revealed the white note. You pulled it out with shaking hands.

“I promised you forever, and I don't break my promises.”

You felt your face flushing by the second. This note was so sudden, so why did it feel like he was talking about something deeper than these words reflected? You ran your hands over the words on the page, interrupting your thoughts, and you heard your song start.

“You can do this, y/n,” you said, leaving the dressing room. Now is where the real work begins.

You stood at the end of the aisle and looked around. You recognized some of the biggest names in the N109 Zone. At least Sylus kept that promise, you thought. The piano rang the most angelic symphony, bringing emotion forth in you.

You began your walk, stride confident, keeping your head high. Sylus stared at you, his smile widening as you worked your way before the steps. He reached down, grabbed your hand, helping you up the steps to the altar. The officiant began to address the crowd, but it felt like it was just you and Sylus. Why was he looking at you like that? You pondered.

“I’ve waited for this moment longer than you know,” Sylus whispered for only your ears to hear. You cocked your head slightly, you were going to ask what he meant by that, but the officiant addressed Sylus, stating the vows, “Do you take y/n to be your wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward.” Sylus’s red eyes flickered as he looked down at you. “For better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and health, to love and to cherish, ‘til death do you apart?”

"I do," Sylus responded, his big hands attempting to secure the large rock to your finger. Your eyes watered slightly at the sight. Why is this so intense, you wondered, as the officiant recited the vows to you. Of course, you responded with an "I do."

“You may kiss the bride.”

Your heart skipped a beat. Sylus didn't hesitate. He stepped closer to you, his hand reaching out to cup the side of your face, his thumb grazing your cheek. His touch was gentle but possessive, almost telling you that now you’re his.

He kissed you firmly but slowly and deliberately. Sylus doesn't rush his kiss with you, almost like he is savoring the moment. The way his lips moved against yours sent warmth coursing through you, pulling you deeper just for a moment.

For a second, you hesitated, thinking you should pull away and make distance. But then Sylus slid his hand around your neck, pulling you closer and deepening your kiss. And you went with it, kissing him back, slowly at first and then increasing the intensity.

The world around you faded. It felt like it was just the two of you. Allowing the kiss to linger on longer than it should have. When Sylus pulled away, his lips parted slightly, and you felt his warm breath against your skin. He whispered just for you to hear:

“If you wanted more, sweetie, all you had to do was ask.”

You felt your chest tighten, and you swallowed hard at his statement. You hated that he could make you feel like this. You forced yourself to look away. “Don’t get used to it,” you muttered quickly, knowing your heart raced at the kiss you shared.

Sylus smirked while looking into your eyes. “We’ll see about that.”

☆---

The reception truly went off without a hitch. Some people you’ve never met made elegant speeches, wishing for happiness and prosperity. This was so fake you fought the urge to roll your eyes at the theatrics displayed before you. You glanced at Sylus, admiring his features as the current speaker discussed alliances and protections.

When Sylus leaned into your ear, “Is my face more interesting than the speech, sweetie?”

You rolled your eyes at him and returned your attention to the speaker. “He’s so cheeky,” you thought. Despite your harsh admissions, you secretly enjoyed his playfulness. It made this whole ordeal feel lighter.

After serving food and drinks, Sylus walked you around the room. The reception hall buzzed with conversation. The guests mingled about discussing business deals disguised as casual conversation. Sylus worked the room effortlessly. His hand rested on the small of your back, sending tingles up your spine as he made contact with your bare skin.

“Ah, there you are,” Sylus said smoothly, flashing a charming smile. “I want you to meet Mr. Blackthorne. He’s one of the key players in the project we’ve been discussing.”

Mr. Blackthorne turned to face you, offering a firm handshake. His gaze lingered over you, measuring you up. You returned the handshake, nodding politely. “It’s a pleasure,” you said.

Truthfully, your mind was already wandering. The prospects of the evening had been exhausting. The smiling and pretending were weighing on you, and Sylus’s insistence on blurring the lines between you wasn't helping. Focusing was so hard your mind constantly drifted back to the kiss you shared just hours before.

Mr. Blackthorne spoke about contacts, future meetings, and something else—but you couldn't tell what. Your eyes continued to drift around the room, searching for a distraction. You tried your hardest to avoid looking at the white-haired man beside you.

After a few moments, Mr. Blackthore excused himself. “I hope you both enjoy the rest of your evening. We'll be in contact soon, " he said, nodding and walking away.

A smile became present on Sylus’s face. “Sweetie, I think you missed that entire conversation,” He teased, his voice amused. “I could see it on your face—completely checked out. What were you thinking about, hmm?”

Your face heated instantly, and you shot him a sharp look. “I was listening.”

“Really?” Sylus raised an eyebrow, leaning in slightly, his voice dropping to a hushed murmur. “It looked to me like your mind was somewhere else entirely. Let me guess… still thinking about that kiss at the altar?”

Your eyes widened at his assertion. “It was just a kiss, Sylus,” you said curtly.

He chucked at your discomfort, “Sure if you say so. But next time, you might want to pay more attention when I introduce you to someone important. We wouldn’t want them thinking you’re too distracted by your new husband to focus on business, now would we?”

Your pulse quickened the way he said, “Husband.” “I’ll try to keep that in mind,” you shot back. You felt like a firecracker inside.

Sylus grinned at you. “Good. Because I have a feeling I’m going to be keeping your attention quite a bit from now on, " he said, grabbing your hand as another guest approached the two of you. The conversation was a perfect invitation to shift your mind from his teasing.

The wedding ended quickly after that. When you looked up, you felt that the wedding had ended, and you were in the backseat of an old luxury car, staring directly at Sylus. The mood was slightly lighter than at the wedding, yet it felt heated. And he could not take his gaze away from you; he was blatantly checking you out, making the ride seem shorter.

“You planned the perfect wedding, but tonight is where the real deal begins, sweetie,” Sylus suggested. The driver maneuvered the luxury car to the massive private gateway of the Onyichinus base. The base itself was vast and Gothic. You had never really stopped to appreciate the building's grandeur before. You reminded yourself that this was only temporary.

Entering the gate revealed a primarily gray and black building spanning at least a few hundred acres. The arches rested so high in the sky that they broke through the beautiful tranquility of sunset. Large windows, elegant arches, detailed carvings, and the crow resting at the highest peak of the building. How had you not realized the beauty of this place amidst the chaos of the N109 Zone?

Distracting you from your realizations, Sylus reached for your hand, pulling you out of your thoughts and the car. This felt different now. Sylus led you into the great corridors, walking for what seemed like miles. You walked through the two doors into Sylus's bedroom.

The room was dimly lit, and soft candlelight cast shadows across it. The wedding had been a blur, but now the evening had ended. It was just the two of you.

His room smelled so fucking good. A simple vanilla musk? But it was so amazing that you wanted to bury your face in his sheets. You heard the doors click behind you, bringing you to the present. Sylus leaned his upper back against the oak doors, his giant chest moving up and down, the only sound in the room being your breathing.

“You’re safe with me, no matter what,” he said, moving off the door and towards you, standing by his bed. Your heart pounded in your chest; it felt so loud that it drowned out the silence. You knew this moment might come, but now you stood before Sylus.

“You’re nervous,” he said softly, his voice lower now, less playful than it had been all evening.

You swallowed, and your throat felt tight. You didn’t know what to say. The air had a thick, unspoken tension. This was supposed to be part of the deal—another step in this arrangement. But now you feel vulnerable in front of him.

Sylus stepped closer, his movements slow and deliberate, giving you time to feel every bit of space he closed between you two. His hand came up, gently brushing your hair out of your face. The touch was tender, and it made your breath hitch.

“You don’t have to be,” he murmured, his thumb lightly grazing your jawline, tipping your chin upwards so your eyes met his. “I’m not in a rush.”

Your chest tightened. You knew Sylus for his confidence, his teasing—proficiency at getting under your skin—but now, there was something different in his eyes. A softness you didn't know he possessed.

“I—I don’t know what to expect,” you admitted, your voice almost a whisper. You felt so exposed; your inexperience was so evident. It was increasingly hard to maintain your usual composure.

His smile was slow, warm, knowing. “You think too much, sweetie.”

He leaned down, brushing his lips against yours—not demanding, not forceful, just soft and testing. The kiss was meant to calm you and reassure you, yet you found yourself responding. He slid his hand to the back of your neck, slightly deepening the kiss.

When he pulled back, Sylus’s red eyes searched for yours. “Tell me if you want to stop,” he said, his voice quieter, more serious now.

You bit your lip, your heart still racing. You were nervous, but some of you also wanted to trust him. How he looked at you, and his touch sent sparks through your skin… you wanted him.

“I don’t want to stop,” you admitted, barely loud enough for him to hear.

He kissed you again, but this time with more intensity, his lips moving against yours with a deliberate, intoxicating rhythm. Each brush of his mouth sent a warm shiver through you, and instinctively, you rose onto the tips of your toes, your hands pressing against his chest as if to steady yourself. His heart beat strong and steady beneath your fingertips, grounding you as your pulse raced.

The kiss deepened, his tongue softly parting your lips in a request for more. You hesitated only momentarily, then parted them, inviting him in. His tongue brushed against yours, teasing and coaxing, his every movement confident and controlled. It was overwhelming and perfect, a mix of dominance and tenderness that left you breathless.

Sylus pulled back slightly, his breath warm against your swollen lips. He was grinning now, his eyes dark with desire and amusement. “Why don’t you let me help you with this?” His voice was a low murmur, and before you could respond, his hands slid to your waist, his fingers curling possessively around your hips.

With a slow, deliberate motion, he turned you, his body pressing against yours from behind. Your back pressed to his chest, and your breath hitched as you realized what he was doing. He had positioned you in front of a mirror. Your wide eyes met your reflection, and you could see Sylus’s smirk in the glass, his gaze fixed on you with a heat that made your skin tingle.

“Look at yourself,” he whispered in your ear, his lips brushing against your neck as his hands moved to the fabric of your dress. “So beautiful when you’re nervous.” His fingers began to undo the delicate fastening at the back, his movements slow, deliberate, as if he was savoring every second.

The sight of him undressing you in the mirror, the way he watched your every reaction, sent a thrill through you that you couldn’t entirely suppress. You felt vulnerable and exposed, but there was something undeniably magnetic about the way he controlled the moment, making it impossible for you to look away from the reflection of your shared desire.

Sylus leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your bare shoulder as your dress began to loosen under his touch. “Let me show you how good this can be,” he murmured, his voice a silken promise that sent heat pooling low in your stomach.

And as his hands continued their slow, teasing exploration, you realized you were already too far gone to resist. His movements caused the straps of your dress to loosen, but you held the fabric against your chest, not letting it fall.

He pressed soft kisses against your earlobe. “Let it fall,” he commanded tenderly. Your breath hitched at his command, but you complied, allowing the dress to fall forward, revealing your nipples.

“Beautiful,” he said. Reaching his large hands to cup your breasts. Sylus pulled your body back till you were flush against his broad chest. He was moving his hands to play with your nipples. He rubbed them softly, allowing them to harden between his fingers and tugging them forward firmly. He watched your reaction in the mirror as your face contorted slightly to tug your bottom lip between your teeth.

He grinned, removing his hands from your nipples to the back of your neck. He dragged his middle finger down to just above your ass, where the fabric of the dress ended. You tilted your head slightly at the movement of his hands. You missed the warmth of his hands on your nipples, but you didn't dare ask for them back as you wanted to see what he was doing next.

Suddenly, you heard the hidden zipper opening the rest of your dress. You stepped forward out of the dress just in panties, turning around to fully face Sylus. “You’re so beautiful,” Sylus murmured, a satisfied smile playing on his lips as he gazed down into your eyes. He pulled you in for a soft, lingering kiss—just enough to make your heart race. You flushed under his gaze, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks but not daring to look away.

“Let me help you, Sylus,” you said, your voice barely a whisper. “I can’t be the only one left like this.” You reached up, gripping his tie and giving it a playful tug, your eyes gleaming with mischief.

His smirk deepened, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Take it off then,” he challenged, his voice low and teasing, daring you with his trademark confidence.

Your hands moved to unwork his tie, pulling him closer to you, causing him to chuckle slightly and grab your bare waist. You shuddered slightly under his touch, continuing your steady exploration. You discarded his tie to the floor and began unbuttoning his perfectly fitting shirt. It was a red button-up. You slowly unbuttoned his shirt, revealing Sylus’s beautifully sculpted body. You innocently peered up at his intense stare. He watched your every movement so close that the only sound in the room was your shared breaths. You drew your finger from his collarbone down to his navel, where you watched him flex slightly at your touch.

You slid his shirt off, letting the fabric fall to the floor before lowering yourself to your knees in front of him. Sylus raised an eyebrow, a smirk curving his lips as he looked down at you.

“And what exactly do you plan on doing down there?” His voice was rich with amusement and teasing but edged with something darker and more intense.

You glanced up at him, a slight pout forming on your flushed face. “Helping you undress,” you replied softly but with playful defiance.

Your hands moved to the front of his pants, your fingers steady as you unbuckled his belt. The sound of the leather sliding through the loops was the only thing breaking the tension in the room.

You looked up at Sylus, licking your lips. You pressed your hand against the bulge in his briefs. Your eyes widened a bit, realizing his size. It’s so big.

Sylus’s hand reached down, his fingers threading through your hair gently but firmly. He tugged you up to your feet with one swift motion, pulling you close until your chest pressed against his. His eyes, dark and heated, locked with yours as his other hand slid around your waist, securing you against him.

“That’s enough of you on your knees, sweetie,” he murmured, his voice low and dangerous with a hint of a smile on his lips.

Without another word, he tilted your chin up, capturing your lips in a heated kiss, leaving no doubt who was in control of the moment. His touch was possessive, but there was a gentleness in how his fingers trailed over your skin, as if he was savoring every inch of the contact.

He laid you back gently on the bed. You looked up at him, patient and waiting, propping yourself up on your forearms.

The noise in your mind was silenced as all you could focus on was Sylus. He dragged his large hands languidly down your body, stopping at the waistband of your underwear. It was a lacy white piece that beautifully complimented your skin. He hooked his fingers underneath it, tugging the fabric down the length of your legs before discarding them behind him.

You held your legs together, not daring to let them fall apart. Sylus’s hands worked between your knees “Kitten, relax for me”, he said softly, looking longingly into your eyes. You allowed yourself to relax a bit as he pulled your legs apart. “That’s my girl,” he drawled.

“Fuck, you’re drenched” He knelt before you, his hands coming to rest on your thighs as he leaned in, his hot breath fanning over your cunt. His fingers traced slow circles teasing you, his eyes locked on yours.

“Do you want me to taste you, sweetie?” The question tested your resolve, and he waited for your response.

“Y-yes,” you whispered. Your hands moved up to cover your face.

Sylus’s lips curved into a smile, his eyes gleaming at your permission. He leaned in, his fingers parting your folds before pressing a single, languid, wet kiss against your core. The sensation of his kiss caused you to arch your back, “Oh god, Sylus.”

“mhm, you taste so sweet,” he murmured. His voice was thick with desire as he continued to tease you. The sound of his voice, the noises from his mouth as he made out with your cunt, made you wetter.

You felt his rough hands hold under your knees, pushing your legs further apart, splaying you open for him.

“Tell me how it feels, Kitten. Tell me how much you want me to make you cum for me.” Your back arched off the bed, your hands moving to grip his hair. You felt heat moving through you.

Sylus took his time, drawing out your pleasure. He was focused on bringing you to the edge. He spent time learning you, tasting you.

“Please… p-please, Sylus, I want to come.” This was the first time you've ever been touched like this, and you loved it. You had never felt anything like this before. Touching yourself could never compare to what Sylus was doing to you.

Sylus’s tongue flicked faster, and his fingers moved, pressing that sensitive spot inside you. His eyes opened and locked onto yours, his gaze fierce. He was testing your reaction and pressing the little spot inside you firmer.

You squirmed against his face, and your moans escaped you. You gripped his hair harder, pulling his mouth closer to you.

“Say it again, sweetie. Beg me to let you cum.”

Fuck, his mouth is filthy.

His tongue swirled around your clit, drawing your orgasm nearer.

He wanted to hear it, wanted you to surrender completely to him, to trust him. His lips closed around your clit, sucking down on your nub hard, driving you closer and closer to the edge. His fingers joined in, working your insides as he stroked your slick cunt with his mouth.

“Say it, kitten. Say you want to cum for me.”

“I want to come for you, please!” you shouted. Tears threatening to fall off your eyelashes.

Sylus’s lips curved into a satisfied smirk, his eyes glinting with triumph as he felt your body tremble beneath his touch. Your orgasm crashed over you, and pleasure flooded your senses. Your legs spasmed as you came on his tongue.

He held you down while you came, allowing you to ride out your pleasure. His tongue lingered until the very last moment, leaving you quivering and desperate for more.

You lay against the bed, your body slowly coming down from the high. You couldn't find the words for a moment, your mind still swimming from what he’d just done.

Finally, you managed a shaky breath, your voice soft but laced with disbelief. “I… didn’t know it could feel like that.” Your cheeks flushed at the admission.

Sylus hovered above you, and you could feel the heat radiating from him. His eyes lit up with satisfaction as he looked down at you, watching you try to catch your breath, your flushed cheeks, and parted lips.

He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as his hand slid up your thigh, sending another shiver through you. “I’m just getting started. Trust me, it can feel even better.” His tone was both a promise and a challenge, daring you to let him take you further.

A shaky breath left your lips, and a wave of heat ran through you from his words. A small smile fell on your lips. “I guess I’ll have to trust you, won’t I?” you whispered, your voice barely audible as you turned your head to meet his eyes. Your tone was still nervous, but your body’s response to him showed how you felt.��

You leaned in, brushing your lips against his, your heartbeat thundering in your chest. “Be careful with me… just for now,” you said, smiling slightly, allowing yourself to be a bit vulnerable with him.

His hand slid to your waist, fingers curling around your hip as he pulled you toward him again.

“Oh, sweetie,” he murmured, his voice a smooth, velvety purr, “you don’t just ‘have to’ trust me… you’re going to want to.”

His fingers traced slow circles on your skin, sending shivers through you. “Trust me,” he whispered, “I’m very good at making you want more.”

At that, you turned him towards the bed, pushing him down on his back. You straddled him, and you felt his clothed bulge pressing against your naked pussy, leaving a wet spot on him. You laid your hands on his chest, rubbing your hands down his hard body. Your heart was pounding through your chest. You moved your hands to push down his briefs, feeling his cock in your hands.

Sylus flexed his abs at your touch. His lips parted slightly, his breath catching in his throat. You wrapped your fingers around him; he felt heavy in your palm.

Sylus watched you through half-lidded eyes. Waiting for your next move until he switched your positions. You were now underneath him, his cock hard and ready, resting against your thigh.

He sat up and positioned himself at your entrance. His eyes trained on where you’d be connected. The head of his cock rubbed against your arousal, catching on your sensitive clit. Your breath caught as he moved to press his erection inside.

Fuck. You felt your walls stretching to accommodate his thick cock. You saw the flush forming on his cheeks through your teary eyes.

He bottomed out in you, finally looking into your eyes. “Breathe for me, kitten.” And you did. His hands came down by your head, caging you in. His hips moved backward, pushing back into you slowly.

His mouth parted slightly as he looked down at you, “You feel so good.” he grits out.

His thrusts were slow and deliberate, his eyes locked onto yours. You stayed there, not daring to look away. Your breath hitched, and your heart pounded out of your chest. You could feel him throbbing inside you, causing your walls to clench around him.

Sylus moves by repositioning your legs on his shoulders, allowing him to move deeper within you. Your tits bounced up and down at the power of his thrusts. He moved his hands to pinch your nipples. The pinch of his fingers shot heat to your core, making you squeeze around him again.

“Fuck” he purred out, his eyes closed at the feeling of you wrapping around him. He moved his hands in between your legs, settling on your clit. He rubbed it steadily, flicking it between his thumb.

Your mind was empty from Sylus fucking you. He was hitting that sensitive spot inside your pussy over and over. You felt your body tensing up again, the wave of pleasure starting to work through your body.

“Come for me one more time, kitten. Let me hear you.” Sylus whispered into your ear, pressing your legs back by your head. You felt him kiss the shell of your ear. You could feel your sensitive nipples rubbing against his chest, his thumb playing with your clit.

“Come for me, Wife.”

You gasped, body trembling as the tension in your core built until it snapped. “Sylus…!” you cried out, your voice breaking as your body twitched uncontrollably in his arms. He held you firm, grounding you as his thrusts remained slow and deliberate, each one pushing you further into bliss.

“Look at me,” he gritted out through clenched teeth. You forced your eyes open, locking onto his. His beautiful, red gaze never wavered, even now. The look in his eyes was more than lust—it was a connection, raw intimacy that seemed to transcend the physical. It made your heart skip a beat, just as much as the sensation of him inside you.

His pace faltered then, his movements growing erratic as he drove into you deeper, harder. “Fuck,” he growled, his lips parting in a low, primal sound that sent shivers through you. His body tensed, muscles tight as he pushed as far into you as he could, his release crashing through him.

With a final groan, Sylus collapsed forward, his weight settling over you as you both came down from your highs. His breath was warm against your skin, his heartbeat slowing in time with yours.

He lifted his head, eyes softening as they met yours again, a tenderness replacing the intensity from moments before. “Thank you for trusting me, y/n,” he whispered, brushing a thumb gently across your cheek.

“You’ve given me every reason to,” you said, smiling at him gently.

☆---

yall this idea was stuck in my head for a solid two weeks. i blame twitter l&ds stans for this. I SWORE i did not fuck with sylus like that up until a couple weeks ago...

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k-hotchoisan · 10 months ago

Text

sticky web

when the Spiderman movie night with Yunho has its sticky complications because you're in a spider suit for him.

warnings: smut, pwp, suit fetish (kinda), reader is in a skin-tight venom suit, blow jobs, getting your lil suit dirty, unprotected sex, Spiderman movies and chill, Yunho fucking you through the suit, breeding kink

w/c: 2K

a/n: i'm posting this to appease my lovely readers (y'all) while I work thru your wonderful requests and my shitty writer's block )-: pls take this peace offering! <3 you know i love you guys sm 🩷 (also if you're wondering, spidey isn't my fav superhero but Dr Oct is one of my fav villains!!)

“You're really gonna get him fucked up when he sees you in this”, your friend teases, zipping your body con suit up. “His own girlfriend? Dressing up in a venom suit?”

You roll your eyes playfully. “It's a reminder that I'll be his little Symbiote.”

You look over to the mirror, feeling slightly subconscious at how much the suit is just hugging your curves despite how impressively breathable it was. And the reminder that you weren't wearing it out, at least for now, comforted you, mostly because, well, you weren't really wearing anything underneath this body hugging attire.

You had invited Yunho over for a Spiderman movie marathon to spend the Friday night, and the way his eyes lit up when you did? It's the cutest thing ever. You did your best to boost the ambiance too–dying the popcorn with red and blue sugar dyes, making spider web and spider-shaped cookies alongside some crystal candy that fit the theme for that extra crunch.

The doorbell rings, and you jump immediately to answer it when your phone reflects the text of Yunho mentioning that he's reached.

Unfortunately, you did severely underestimate the effect it had on Yunho, because the moment you opened the door, Yunho definitely got distracted, evident by the reddening of his ears when his gaze rests on your cute little costume.

You did tell Yunho to come in costume too, and he definitely did–in a red and blue spiderman patterned hoodie and red shorts.

“What? Don't you like my costume?” You poke for an answer, giving Yunho a full spin, missing the way Yunho swallowing hard, trying not to eye fuck you.

“You're… definitely dressed for the part”, Yunho manages out, his slender fingers covering his lips and nose, hoping you don't realise that he's growing as red as his hoodie.

He watches the material hugging your body tug and fit you just right, pulling at just the right places corresponding to your movements, and his feels his fingers twitch.

Yunho turns away, his attention on the assortment of food presented on the table.

“Red and blue popcorn?” He questions with a raised eyebrow as he settles onto the couch.

“It's just sugar dye”, you assure, sliding next to him, picking up a kernel, pressing it against his lips, your other hand mimicking the same action but to your own lips. Yunho smiles as he chews, the sweetness spreading all over his taste buds.

“What should we watch first? Should we start all the way from the first Spiderman movie?” You suggest flickering through all the Spiderman movies back to the first. Yunho nods in agreement, stuffing his mouth with a couple more colourful popcorn. Pressing play, you absentmindedly huddle yourself against your partner, not that he minded, and Yunho lets his hands curl around your waist.

Yunho is engrossed in the first thirty minutes of the movie, periodically munching on the snacks as the flick plays.

You're leaning lazily against his arm, letting Yunho feed you from time to time, mostly because you didn't want to get your costume dirty.

He blinks, wondering if he saw wrongly–your nipples poking through the fabric.

You're not wearing a bra underneath or anything?

Yunho shakes the thought off, trying to focus on the movie. Unfortunately his peripherals can't help but betray him, ever so slightly always trailing back to you.

You look up at him from below, and point to the popcorn.

“Yu, I want one more”, you request. Of course your boyfriend would feed you another one. When his fingers linger a little too long on your lips, you realise that his eyes aren't on the screen.

He's staring at you.

“Someone’s distracted”, you point out with a smirk.

You straddle his lap.

The movie is paused.

Yunho’s hands are running up your body, and even though it's separated by a layer of fabric, his touches give you goosebumps.

“I can't concentrate when you're looking like this”, he mutters to your lips, and you feel his palm grab a handful of your ass.

“Then concentrate on this”, you redirect, pulling him into a dizzy kiss–one that's just filled with moans and teasing. The both of you taste sweet, thanks to the popcorn.

You're rubbing against his erection while he dry fucks you, and you're both not lasting long.

You climb off him and sink to face his thick erection. Soft sighs as vibrations through the fabric of his shorts make Yunho shiver too. You palm his little problem, and hearing him groan while spreading his legs open is enough to make you clench your thighs.

Pulling his shorts down, your heartbeat accelerates at his fucking length–precum trickling down his bare cock, veins so thick and prominent.

Your tongue travels up his thick length, and your mind almost go dumb when you feel Yunho’s fingers tug against your scalp. You look up at him through your lashes, visually savouring the way he's getting undone with your lips around his cock, in his favourite costume. Yunho wants you to just choke you on his dick, maybe get his cum dripping down your tits on the tight fabric.

He only grows bigger in your mouth at the perverted thought and the way your eyes are slowly watering from his dick reaching to the back of your throat? He's not lasting long.

“Shit, that feels so fucking good”, Yunho groans, throwing his head back, pushing your head deeper, enjoying the sick sounds of you choking. Your mind is flooded with how good Yunho feels and fills your mouth, and it’s making you soak through your costume.

Yunho groans with every squeeze your throat gives him, pushing himself to hit the back of your throat.

“Gonna cum in your tight pretty mouth. You're gonna swallow it all, yeah?”

You nod quickly, trying to keep up the pace of him fucking your mouth. With a strained groan, his cock pulses in your mouth, warm cum seeping through, and it makes your mind so dizzy.

“Open”, he instructs, and you do, letting some of cum sleep past the corner of your lips and down your throat, then down onto your tits.

Yunho is getting harder.

Yunho grabs you and throws you over his shoulder, leaving you surprised, and he marches into your bedroom, then drops you onto your bed.

“Yunho-” you squeal when you feel his fingers press against the soaked fabric hiding your pussy.

“It's in the way, don't you think?” He asks rhetorically, eyeing the way the damp patch grows bigger when he massages it against your sticky folds, making you bite your lip. Of course you're not wearing any fucking underwear. Yunho should have realised.

Unfortunately, Yunho doesn't have the patience to take his sweet time to look for the zipper, so he does the more sensible thing–ripping a fucking hole at where your pussy is.

You blink in shock.

Shit, he really ripped a fucking hole down there.

You furrow your eyebrows.

“Yunho! This wasn't cheap!” You pout, closing your legs in protest with much futile effort, considering his arms are keeping them open.

He looks at you with indifference. “Then I'll get you a new one. Promise.”

Yunho grabs your thighs and drags you closer to him. His cum on his dick dribbles onto the suit, and Yunho smears it further, sliding his cock down, pressing it up against your creamy and puffy folds, with almost little to no friction.

“I was thinking of how far I can ruin this suit anyway.”

He swears he's fucking blessed–his gorgeous partner making such an adorable movie date night of his favourite character, dressing up for the occasion, and letting him fuck her dumb in this cute spider suit? He couldn't ask for more.

Your eyes slowly roll back when you feel Yunho’s cock push into your warm pussy, filling you up almost instantly. You hiss softly at the pressure, feeling your tight walls trying to accommodate him.

“So warm. Oh, fuck,” Yunho groans, already losing himself in your heat. He’s gotten a little more sensitive but he's gonna make it last as much as he can.

There's something so perverted that Yunho enjoys so much–fucking you fully clothed like this. He realises it gets him off so fast. He watches hungrily–the way your tits bounce under the suit when he thrusts deep into you, and how it's as if he's fucking you through the thin suit. His fingers trail up to your tits, and his thumb brushes against your bare nipples that harden under the fabric, throwing you into an additional layer of pleasure.

“Have I told you that you look fucking delicious in this? The Symbiote suits you so well.”

It's hard to formulate an answer when your boyfriend is fucking your brains out like this, but you know he doesn't mind the silence and the broken moans–it’s your answer.

A couple more heavy thrusts into you, the wet sounds accompanying your sobs before he instructs you to turn around for him.

You go on fours, and Yunho wastes little time to pin your head down onto the mattress by your neck before he fits in wet dick right into you again.

His free hand wanders across your ass, then he gives it a tight slap, making you squeal and tighten on him.

You're clawing the sheets, the pleasure filling you up and you can't concentrate on anything else other than Yunho’s cock filling in and out of you, hitting your sweet spots over and over again. You've surely soiled the costume to hell, but honestly, at least Yunho was making full use of it.

“So good”, you mutter, your pussy clamping down on the feeling of Yunho stretching you out with his fingers pressing the sides of your throat. You swear you were drooling.

“Is it?” Another heavy thrust.

Oh shit, you're not sure how much more you could handle. And it seems that Yunho is in a similar situation–his thrusts are getting heavier and sloppier. His mind is in the gutter now, especially when he's forced to watch your pussy leak sticky cream down your folds and stain your inner thighs, mixed with his cum.

“Cumming-” you cry, your legs shaking. “So good. Can't think-”

“Make a mess for me, babe”, Yunho chuckles, his palm stroking your ass, grabbing a handful before he fucks himself deep once more.

Your mind melts with your orgasm hitting you in waves, your pussy convulsing uncontrollably on his dick, your moans forming a melody for his ears, and it pushes him far enough to make a mess in you, thick and warm cum filling you up that you’re forced to take. You hear him curse and groan behind you, and you drop your hips onto the bed, his cock popping out of you, completely covered in a glisten of cum, some still seeping out from his cock head.

He tugs your ruined folds open, watching his thick cum leak out of your spent hole, dripping onto your thighs, soaked up by the suit. Yunho takes in the sight of you panting, with probably more than half of the suit soiled with fluids, and your pussy, other than your face, both uncovered and in a complete mess.

Fuck, he just might get hard again.

“Yunho, this isn't a good idea–fuck”, you whimper, completely losing yourself to him once more.

Yunho had washed you up a little after that, and he wouldn't let you take off the suit, at least, not yet. You thought finally, maybe you and him could actually watch a Spiderman movie or two, but when Yunho pulled you onto his lap, you knew that plan was out of the window considering that he got hard again, and had you seated right on his cock. None of you are focusing on the movies.

“Don't be mad at me, babe. I'm just making sure that I make full use of this movie night you're giving me”.

Another thrust into your spent pussy once more, and your thoughts leave your head.

He's certain of having you fucked and filled with his sticky web by the end of the first movie, that's for sure.

taglist: @bro-atz @diamond-3@mcarebearsstuff. @choisansplushie @pre1ttyies @hwallazia @yeosangiess @softwsan @yourlocaljonghoe @itza-meee @ywtf @skteezcursed @jeon-ify @miss-fallon @bunnyluvr25 @eggyboy5 @hourswithoutyou @iwishiwasthemoontonight @yunhogrippers @watermelon2319 @kibs-and-bits @s-h-y-a @luvt0kki @httpseungmxn @vic0921 @sanhwajoong @bitejoongie @no1likevie @jwnghyuns @everythingboutkpop @skz1-4-3 @minalizasworld @seomisaho @tunafishyfishylike @songmingisthighs @comicnerd557 @yuyusgirl

#ateez #ateez scenarios #ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #ateez x reader #ateez smut #smut #ateez fic #kpop smut #yunho smut #ateez yunho #yunho ateez #yunho x reader #jeong yunho #yunho

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syluss-littlecrow · 7 months ago

Text

night of secrecy

the extension of Nights of Secrecy card by syluss-littlecrow ♥️

warnings: smut, pwp, unprotected sex, steamy fucking, pussy eating, overstimulation, orgasms for sure, Sylus should be a whole ass warning by himself!, extension scenes for LADS card, canon events (TO ME!!!),

a/n: I'm back!!! At least for now... Also happy new year my little crows. I apologise for the extreme inactivity. Life caught me by the throat and flung me unfortunately not into Sylus's arms 😔🙏🏻 nonetheless, I was the happiest person on earth when we finally, FINALLY, got a spicy card for Sylus!! It was... WOO. definitely needed to extend the in-between scenes because thats what I wanted and y'all are suffering with me. Love you all as always and take care ♥️ also! Please give me a while to go through my inbox!! I'll try to answer your messages as much as I can! 🙏🏻

w/c: 2.8K

“Looks like we’re on the same page on not wanting to waste time.”

His voice pulled your attention back to him. You watch the way his eyes are pretty much devouring you whole, and you've suddenly forgotten what he tastes like. And obviously, you’re ready to go in for seconds.

Your mind is slowly clouding from the desire seeping into your veins. The intensity of Sylus’s gaze on you suddenly dawn's onto you and you're briefly distracted by the snow pattering against the windows, your gaze grazing the midnight sky with snow looking like glitter, dousing the whole area outside of the warmth you're enveloped in.

Before you realise it, Sylus snaps your attention back to him.

Your eyes are back on him, and the way he's staring right into you sends you fucking shivers.

“Don't get distracted at a time like this, kitten.”

Your hands wrap around his neck and you yank him closer, not missing the way Sylus’s eyes widen for a split second before he’s tasting you again.

God, you taste so fucking good.

The kisses grow deeper and more desperate, just like the first round on the couch, but this time, Sylus wants to make sure he's the one eating you whole. You let soft moans slip out between exchanging tastes, and you hear Sylus take a deep inhale. He’s got his weight pressed onto you, but he's trying not to crush you, and you feel his thick cock pressing hard against the inner of your thigh.

Who's gonna drive who crazy first?

The silk bedding beneath you only grows warmer, completely taken over the heat both of you are emitting.

“No looking.”

His palm blocks your vision, shutting off your sight, the intensity of your other senses slowly setting ablaze.

His kisses are relentless, sprinkled with soft bites along your bottom lip. His fingers find yours on the bed, tightening your grip, his moans and breathing growing in intensity against your lips. You want to keep this sensation and him in a jar and lock it up forever.

Sylus lifts his palm off your eyes, knowing he's had his fill for now and knowing that he has you soaked and sticky, he watches you catch your breath, your eyes in a daze. The faint smear of your lipstick on his lips from ruining yours catches your attention.

Maybe you should wear red lipstick more often.

His eyes are back on you now, his breathing still heavy. Even though the lights are dim and warm, the way you have his cheeks dusted with red all the way to his ears makes your heartbeat accelerate. You've never come this close to seeing the leader of Onychinus look like this.

Your fingers trace below his left eye, and a rush of possessiveness bleeds through your words, barely a whisper.

“Am I being too greedy…if I want you to keep your eyes only on me?”

A soft chuckle comes out of Sylus. He catches your wrist before it falls and presses his lips gently against your palm before he locks his eyes with you again

“You've always had that right. Which means you could be even greedier.”

And his lips dive for your cheek, and trails down to your jawline, and down to your neck, setting the patches of skin he kisses ablaze. He bites and sucks, making sure he leaves his mark, hiding his satisfaction whenever he hears you whine his name.

You feel the warmth of his palm slide down your thigh, and it gives you goosebumps. You watch the way he kisses the top of your knee as he lets his fingers trail lower down.

“Do you want it, kitten?”

The “yes” that spills out of your lips almost instantaneously draws a smirk from Sylus. He's ready to leave your clothes in pieces. But your palm presses against his bare chest just before he gets a chance to go further, as if stopping him. Sylus pouts slightly, grabbing your thighs once more.

“You haven't changed your mind, have you? You just said yes?”

Only when he catches the playful grin you wear that he realises that you're painfully teasing him. Nonetheless, he plays along with you–spoiling you with kisses as he pulls you by your legs closer to him.

“I'm hoping your answer is still yes…”, he mutters, switching his gaze between you and your supple thighs.

“…because I'm not holding back anymore.”

His fingers hook the waistband of your panties, and he slides it off your legs, his lips curled in a satisfied smile when notices the glistening sheen of your panties.

He thinks you're so fucking pretty when you're unraveled and wet for him.

Sylus has his palms pushing your legs apart, his attention now on your soaked pussy, practically inviting him for a taste.

He presses his lips against your pussy lips, his tongue then gliding up and down, brushing against your clit, over and over. You hate how he's so perfectly precise at finding your weakest spots. But then again, you let him into your territory, and that's your problem to enjoy.

Your breathing gradually staggers, your fingers curling against the soft white locks of his hair. Sylus is forcing your hips to stay onto the bed while he fucks you with his tongue. He hears you whimpering his name every time his tongue flicks against your clit, the pleasure shooting up your spine over and over again.

“S-Sylus..”, you mumble, your pussy pulsating once more when he sucks on your clit. “Gonna cum. Fuck.”

Sylus doesn't directly respond to you, but rather, his fingers that aren't holding your lower body down circles the entrance of your soft pussy, and then he pushes his fingers in.

You gasp, your body jolts slightly from the pressure. Now you're clawing the bedsheets and your moans pour out of you freely, competing with the squelching and wet sounds coming from your cunt.

His muffled moans vibrate against your cunt, as if beckoning you to just let it all out, and it drives you over the edge topped with his fingers fucking your pussy, long enough to hit your most sensitive spots.

“Fuck, fuck! Sylus I'm cumming-”, cutting off when your orgasm hits you fucking hard in waves, the pleasure tingling down your spine, your mind in a beautiful, horny mess, only filled with Sylus.

Only when your body settles down, and your legs snap together by instinct, does Sylus slowly lift his messy lips off you, and his fingers, covered in your cream, staining the red bedding in the process.

He really pulled every single orgasm out of you–you’re left catching your breath, and trying to stop your thighs from shaking.

In a haze, you watch Sylus drop his shirt onto the floor, his fingers unbuttoning his pants impatiently. He slides both apparels off swiftly, letting his thick cock free from the fabric tightness.

You swallow at the size of him, but at the same time, you just really want him to fuck the thoughts out of you so fucking bad.

Sylus combs his hair back, the red flush on his face growing more obvious.

Then he's back to distracting you with his kisses down your thighs, slowly going back up to your lips, not forgetting to give your tits a nice squeeze.

You feel his cock brush against your pussy, drips of his precum mixing into your mess.

Your fingers stroke his hair as he deepens the kiss. You feel the cold metal of his necklace pressing onto you, and it's definitely heating up.

His lips hover near your ear.

“Could I, kitten? Please?” It almost comes off as a beg and it tickles you ears so good.

Honestly you couldn't say no even if you wanted to, you're as hungry for him as he is for you.

You push him away. For a second, Sylus is ready to cease in case you really aren't ready.

Instead, you slowly spread your legs once more in front of him, the initial shyness replaced by boldness.

“It's all for you Sylus. Didn't you say I could be greedier?”

Sylus knows he's the luckiest man in the fucking world.

He bends and pushes your legs, almost folding you into half. His cock is lined right at your pussy hole, almost teasing you. But before any words could come out of your mouth, he pushes in, filling you instantly, stretching your hole open. You take a sharp inhale, grasping Sylus’s outstretched hand, and Sylus pauses, waiting for you to adjust, even though he's only half way in.

“You're so fucking tight for me, kitten. I'm only half way in.”

You squeeze his hand in retaliation, and Sylus is amused by the pout you wear on your face.

“You're too big..” you mutter.

Sylus only chuckles, stroking your thighs in an attempt to comfort you.

He feels you relax, but he watches for your reactions, and when you give him the green light, he stretches you out with the remainder of his length, knocking the wind out of you. He leans in, mostly hovering over you so he doesn't crush you with his weight.

“You gotta let me in, sweetie. You're squeezing me a little too good here”, he teases, his lips trailing down your neck.

You're practically breathless and filled to the brim. It feels like fucking heaven–squeezing against his cock and hearing Sylus gasp when you tighten around him.

You catch his lips with your palm when he's about to bite against the skin there.

“No biting here.”

His hands release your thighs at the same time, instead, taking both your wrists above you and holding them down with one hand.

“First you want it rough, now you want it soft. Aren't you a hard one to please tonight, kitten?”

He opts for kisses instead, and it melts into your skin, once again sending shivers.

“Why won't you be a good girl and tell me what you want you really want kitten?”

The way he's calling you a good girl with a voice velvet and drizzled in honey sends you shivers.

“I'm not falling for your tricks…” you mumble.

Sylus kisses your ear and his low groans whenever he feels you tighten around him.

“Then I'll start moving, kitten.”

You nod. Unfortunately, your hands are still bound above you, so that's the most you could do.

When Sylus begins thrusting slowly in and out of you, your mind slowly goes blank. All that's flooding in is how fucking good he feels in you. Your greed grows into a bottomless hole at an exponential speed. His name spills from your lips like a mantra, and you call him over and over again, sometimes getting cut off with a moan when he hits the perfect spot.

“I love it so much when you call my name, sweetie. It sounds like heaven in my ears.” He's barely able to form his sentence when you squeeze him again, sucking him back into the endless rounds of euphoria.

“Feels good. Sylus, you feel so good,” you whimper, realising you're letting yourself get lost into his heat. You feel him smile against your skin while he presses more kisses all over your face and neck. He pulls out momentarily, leaving you empty and slightly frustrated.

The tension builds, and he releases your hands in the midst of his kisses, letting you switch positions–landing yourself above him.

Your ego swells up slightly when Sylus casts you a suprised expression. But it quickly turns into a smile.

“Ah, so what you wanted was control?”

His cock is just resting right at your ass and you feel the warm, sticky fluids slide right down to your pussy.

You watch him lick his lips.

“Unfortunately, I can't give it to you”, he says. “At least, not yet.”

His hands glide upwards to the round of your ass, pressing his cock right at your pussy hole.

You lift your hips slightly, his cock pushing into you the second time, with much less resistance thanks to how wet the both of you got. It still takes your breath away when he fills you up. You swear he's bulging in you.

Sylus’s warm hands rub circles from your hip to your waist to soothe you, despite the fact that he almost could break just from watch you take his cock right in front of him.

“That’s my good girl. You're taking all of me so well.”

Your mind is threatening to fall apart from the pleasure once more. It's dizzy and thick, building a thick haze in your mind once more.

You lift your hips and he pushes you down, his cock filling you up again.

And soon enough, you're bouncing on his cock.

His grip on your waist is firm yet tender. He guides your hips, and peppers words of encouragement while he fucks you from below.

“That's it, kitten. Like that. Just for me.”

“Feels good hm? Of course it does. Look at your pretty fucked out face.”

“Good girl–hng–! you're such a good fucking girl for me.”

You watch the ways his eyebrows knit in pleasure. At times, he’d barely have his eyes open, from the way he's doing everything in his power not to explode in you. Not yet. He wants to be a little more greedier.

Maybe just a little more. He doesn't want it to end so quickly.

After all, greed can't be satisfied. Only momentarily.

Sylus knows that all too well. And god forbid he'd keep you locked up in here with him as long as he wanted.

Shit. You're taking so much from him and it feels so fucking amazing.

Your thighs are trembling from riding Sylus. It's too much yet not enough at the same time. His thickness presses against your g-spot endlessly, and Sylus swallows hard when you throw your head back, the sweat trickling down your neck, past your tits, all the way down, while your whole body shakes in sheer pleasure, accompanied by the obscene wet noises.

“Look at me, kitten.” His voice lures you back to him, like it always does.

You make eye contact with him, your eyes so pretty and glazed, as if in a spell. Under his spell.

“How are you feeling?” His finger traces down your chin.

“So full. I’m feeling so full of you”, you manage to reply, lifting your hips, letting Sylus see the full view of the wet, creamy, sticky mess you've made on his cock. You still have the rest of him stuffed deep in you, and you're not lasting any longer.

Every thrust he pushes into you drives you closer to the edge a second time.

Sylus groans and bucks his hips when you lower yourself on him once more. At this moment, he realises nothing in this world could be better than this.

“Feels weird, Sylus”, you mutter, pulling your pussy lips to take more of him in. You're grinding slightly more desperately, the tension builds. Fuck, you're gonna cum again.

The sounds of skin slapping only grow wetter, thicker and louder. Sylus bites his lip when he feels you go tight on him, his hands now on your ass, taking a handful and guiding you to fucking him.

“Fuck. Feels so good, kitten. You're gonna cum all over me?”

Too delirious, soaked in complete pleasure and begging to chase the high, you nod.

He listens to you sob and cry when your second orgasm washes over you, fluttering all over his dick. Sylus cups your cheeks and pulls you in for another wet and messy kiss.

“Cumming too, kitten. Be a good girl and take it all.”

Unfortunately he doesn't give you a chance to answer, mostly because you have your tongue out for him to devour and he doesn't hesitate. His low moans flood through your ears, his warm and thick cum filling you up so much that it leaks out of you before he pulls out.

He hears you squeal but the sounds of wet kisses override it, and he still makes you bounce off his cock until he's satisfied with emptying everything in you.

The air is thick and still for a moment when the both of you pull away, pants filling up the room.

The both of you have red flushed on your cheeks. His grip on you loosens. Instead you move in for a kiss on his forehead, which takes him by surprise.

In the second, he realises how much he adores you.

You're his first love, and you'll be his last.

Your phone pings in the middle of the day, just as you reached home after dropping Sylus off from cleaning up his mission.

There are two messages–one from Sylus and one from…Luke and Kieran?

The message preview from Sylus stating to call him when you're home safe. But your curiousity is piqued with Luke’s message. Before you could respond, Kieran’s messages pops into the groupchat with the three of you in. You scrunch your eyebrows in confusion at first, but then you laugh it off.

Luke: Did you know if something happen to boss-man? I've never seen him glow like this before.

Kieran: holy shit he actually smiled and greeted us when he came in 🤔 is the world ending?

#l&ds sylus #lads sylus #lnds sylus #love and deep space sylus #love and deepspace #love and deepspace sylus #sylus #l&ds smut #love and deep space smut #sylus x reader #sylus smut

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plethorawrites · 7 months ago

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Jason Todd x Empath Reader (Because I love this idea)

Jason had barely made it through the door of the apartment before he collapsed onto the couch, his feet hanging off the end of it as he buried his face in a throw pillow with a tired groan.

You looked up from the pot you were stirring in the kitchen, glancing over at him. "Long day?" He just groaned again into the pillow. "Did you want to take a nap before we eat dinner?"

Sometimes, when he was extremely tired, he would take a power nap before you ate, just to avoid falling asleep during the meal. You never minded much, since you knew he had a hard job and it wore him out.

All he did was raise a hand, waving it dismissively. Was that a yes or a no? You weren't quite sure, but probably thought he was refusing the offer, as he often did, since he felt guilty for coming home and falling asleep immediately instead of spending time with you.

Despite his best efforts, he slipped into a state of slumber quite quickly, even though he tried to fight it off, telling himself he would only rest his eyes for a moment before getting up to give you a kiss like he always did.

A few moments later, when dinner was nearly ready, you heard the sound of something getting kicked and peered over towards where he was resting. "Jay?"

No response.

Turning the burner down, you walked over to the couch where he was sleeping, not well, at that. He was thrashing, the way he often did, one of his legs hanging off the couch, occasionally kicking the coffee table when his body jumped.

"Jay," you repeated, a bit firmer, shaking him awake.

He bolted straight up, breathing heavily. His hand gripped the pillow until it was white while he looked around, trying to recognize his surroundings.

His gaze eventually landed on you and his breathing slowed. "Baby?"

You knelt by the couch, taking his hand in yours. "You okay?" You asked gently, as to not elicit any strong emotions from him by accident.

Jason hesitated to answer, not wanting to lie to you but hating to admit the truth as well. "I- I guess," he muttered, his grip on your hand tightening. He scrubbed his face with his spare hand, wiping the sleep from his eyes. "I'm sorry for falling asleep," he apologized, leaning forward to place a small kiss on your lips.

You frowned slightly, resting your forehead against his. "It's fine," you assured him. "Are you hungry?"

Yes.

He was absolutely starving.

And as an added bonus, he wouldn't have to talk about his feelings or dreams for a while.

Jason nodded, loosening his grip on your hand ever so slightly before standing up, draping his hand around your waist and following you into the kitchen.

He knew you liked to know about how he was feeling; you constantly asked and he appreciated that you would take the time to let him try to vocalize feelings he used to ignore or invalidate. But he also knew that if he let you, you would use your powers on him every chance you could to help him sleep or bring him peace of mind, at your own expense.

Jason couldn't let you do that. So, he would rarely, if ever take advantage of your gifts. Instead, he would talk your ear off when he, very rarely, felt emotional enough to talk. And he would show you how he felt as often as possible.

After dinner, he laid down in bed beside you, pulling you close to him, like normal, resting his hand on your back and burying his face in your hair, kissing the top of your head. He never felt safer than when he was holding you and could feel you holding him back, with your arm wrapped around his waist and your head resting on his chest, listening to his heart beat through his shirt.

Unfortunately, his subconscious got scary when he was asleep and the normal comfort he felt disappeared when he began to dream, feeling like you were slipping away from him.

In his dreams, you left him. In his dreams, he died over and over and no one stood at his grave. In his dreams, he lost everything, everyone.

Jason woke up to you shaking him again, practically shouting his name to try to get him to open his eyes. He had broken out in a cold sweat, tossing and turning until all the pillows had fallen off the bed and he'd basically stolen the entire blanket from you.

"I'm sorry," were the first words out of his mouth. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to..." He was out of breath, panting as he buried his head in his hands. "I'm so sorry. Please don't leave."

You dragged his hands away from his face, taking his chin in between your fingers and forcing him to look at you. "Jay, talk to me," you pleaded quietly, laying your head on his shoulder as he caught his breath. "Just tell me what you saw."

He exhaled, his fingers curling around the sheets. "You left me," he said, staring down at the bed. "I died again and you di- you moved on. You didn't even visit my grave."

Your heart broke.

"You know I'd never do that," you insisted with conviction. "Never."

If he died, you wouldn't move on. You couldn't. You wouldn't just visit his grave, you'd probably live at it. No piece of your heart wanted to even think about loving someone else. Ever.

Jason swallowed harshly. "I know," he whispered, trying to believe you. "I just...my subconscious doesn't."

You squeezed his shoulder, running your hand back and forth, trying to ease some of the tension in his neck. "Please let me make it better," you begged.

"No," Jason replied without hesitation.

He wouldn't let himself rely on your powers. He loved you. Not for your ability to lull him to sleep, but because you were his partner, the person he wanted to see every morning and every night, who brought a smile to his face and made him feel safe just by existing.

"Jason—"

"I said no!" He exclaimed. "I'm not using you. I'm not going to sleep while you stay up to let me."

You paused, seeing him tense even more. He hadn't meant to snap and you both knew it.

"You're not using me," you stated calmly. "And I can sleep anytime. Please just let me help you rest. Just for a few hours."

You were desperate for him to sleep. He looked exhausted, miserable, even. It hurt you almost as much to see him deny himself what could help as it did for him to constantly refuse your offer.

His jaw set and you could see him thinking it though.

"Please," you repeated in a soft whisper.

He finally caved. Nodding he sighed heavily, laying down. "No more than three or four hours."

That's all he really needed to function, anyway.

You nodded, laying down with him, seamlessly falling into his strong arms, wrapping your arms and legs around him like a koala, clinging to him for your own comfort as much as his.

The tension slowly dissipated from his body as he wrapped his arms around you, enveloping your body tightly as he buried his face in your neck, taking a deep breath and trying not to feel guilty.

A few seconds passed and he suddenly felt his anger, his sadness, his pain, all subsided until all he felt was peace and calm. Not to mention love. A lot of love. To a nearly unfathomable point.

Within seconds he was falling asleep in your arms, humming and mumbling incoherently while nuzzling your neck as you stroke his hair, scratching his scalp with your nails.

Three or four he said. You agreed.

You still stayed up all night, only allowing yourself to fall asleep once the sun rose and he got eight full hours of sleep for the first time since the last time he let you use your powers on him.

He'd be annoyed, you knew and he wanted to complain, tell you not to sacrifice your sleep for his but when he woke up, you were already asleep, still clinging to him. So, he let his arms tighten around you again, laying there, letting you sleep, like you let him.

A relationship was give and take, he knew. He felt terrible for taking too much, so he would give you this. For as long as he could. Even if his arms were numb.

#x reader #headcanon #jason todd #jason todd imagine #jason todd x reader #jason todd angst #jason todd needs a hug #jason todd x you #jason todd imagines #plethorawrites

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youryurigoddess · 6 months ago

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So one thing led to another, and I’ve just paid a visit to the first (that we know of) confirmed Good Omens S3 filming locations. Due to the obvious sensitivity of this material, please tag it accordingly and share only with the fans consenting to know potential spoilers.

A fellow Good Omens fan has mentioned that residents of a certain Edinburgh area had unexpected guests recently, knocking on their door and telling them they are filming in their street soon. Imagine their surprise when a polite question about the details led to the offhand answer: “IT'S ONLY GOOD OMENS”.

For those unaware, the City of Edinburgh Council has been working really hard on promoting the city for film and TV industry for a few years now (the effects of which we saw in S2), and has a set of very clear and very publicly available guidelines regarding the modus operandi here.

The Good Omens production has both large scale and a high impact on a specific location due to the crew size, amount of technology used, and requirement for crowd control in most of the exterior and interior scenes (e.g., bookshop, pub, or coffee shop windows), which is why not only the local authorities, but also residents were informed about the filming with an at least 8 days notice:

Ironically, I just had happened to have a trip here planned and a hotel booked within walking distance to the locations on the attached TM and parking plan map, so it would be a waste not to use this opportunity for the greater good of the fandom. Can’t stay long enough to see the actual crew, so unfortunately the hair photos will have to be made by someone else. Disappointing, I know. But there’s still a lot to be excited about!

According to the provided notice, the filming will happen within one working day with the required set-up planned for the day before, mostly in the afternoon hours. The attached map shows planned parking suspension and SYL dispensation on two streets close to the chosen locations, which is where the trailers and equipment vehicles will park:

Location One turns out to be, rather surprisingly, a cosy corner bookshop. The shop — one of the Edinburgh’s oldest surviving secondhand bookstores — is very small, but crammed with a wide ranging library of beautiful books to serve readers and collectors, including antiquarian true first editions and signed copies.

It’s giving Muriel’s sweet and whimsical charm, but the bits and pieces of the unpublished Good Omens sequel point out not towards Whickber Street, where the angel currently resides, but more towards a new in-universe location. Maybe one that will be opened in the future post-Second Coming, maybe one that will remind one of the characters about a home base of operations back in the heart of London’s Soho (and theirs— wait, who said that?).

Notice that the road closure includes north and south sides of the pavement visible in the last photo, so both indoor and outdoor shots could be expected:

Location Two seems a bit more complex, since it’s basically a skewed triangle consisting of one longer street and a short side street diverging from it. Conveniently for the filmmakers, the architecture here is uncharacteristic enough that it could be easily presented as British, Scottish, or even American. I’m personally a bit partial to the last option since it would make sense story- and budget-wise, especially now with the two people previously adamant on shooting the US scenes only on location there not on the production team anymore.

The contrasting structures and materials visible here easily offer background for multiple potential contexts and scenarios, so much in fact that it’s easy to imagine more than one scene being shot here for cost- and time-effective reasons. Some of the buildings along the cobbled road have the right look and feel for historical flashbacks, as you can see below. I find the two separate entrances next to each other particularly lovely:

A considerable part of the buildings in the area, however, belongs to a more modern complex that communicates a very different personality and function. With a bit of camera and post-production magic, it could transform to a wide range of settings — please let me know your thoughts and ideas if you have any!

Specific filming times and more detailed information are consciously not shared out of concern for the crew and cast members who clearly don’t want them to become public knowledge. Those of you who live in the area and might visit the set anyway, please don’t forget to make sure that your presence won’t bother them as well as other locals. And remember to keep any new photos and information contained with tags so that you won’t spoil it to the people who would rather wait for the movie itself!

#good omens #good omens s3 #good omens finale #good omens filming locations #edinburgh #good omens s3 speculation #good omens speculation #good omens s3 spoilers #good omens spoilers #seriously don’t read it if you want to avoid spoilers #i’m dead serious about this #yuri is doing her thing #channeling detective aziraphale

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lupinqs · 8 months ago

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MIGRAINE ━━ paige bueckers x teammate!reader

☆ ━ summary: on big east media day, you’re unfortunate enough to get a migraine

☆ ━ word count: 2.9K

☆ ━ warnings: descriptions of migraines, throwing up

☆ ━ links: my masterlist, based off of this req

☆ ━ author’s note: two fics in one night omg WHO AM I??? also i promise this is not rlly dramatized y’all this is quite literally how my migraines are …….… wish i had a paige during them 😞

BIG EAST media day—it’s today. Usually, you don’t mind media days at all. Actually, you tend to enjoy them. But, clearly, today you’re not meant to.

As soon as the sun broke through the windows of the New York hotel, Paige had woken to the sight of your scrunched-up face, a hand pressed to your temple. You both knew what it meant: you had a migraine, and today of all days, it had to hit with full force.

Paige had immediately rolled out of bed, grabbing your migraine medication from your bag that you’d luckily remembered to bring in a “just in case” situation. However, you’d been resistant to at first, knowing full well that the medicine would upset your stomach like it always does, but Paige had insisted, forcing you to take it. “You know we can’t skip today. Just take it, baby. It’ll help with the pain.” Reluctantly, you’d taken the pills, and with an an hour, just as you were sitting in hair and makeup, the side effects hit. You’d bolted from your chair, leaving the startled makeup artist behind as you rushed to the bathroom to puke your guts up.

Paige had followed immediately, kneeling beside you in the small, cramped bathroom stall, rubbing your back as you heaved into the toilet. The nausea subsided eventually, but Paige was worried you’d thrown up all the medicine in the process. You hadn’t had time to find out, though—there were interviews to do, and you, always the professional, was stubborn enough to push through.

Now, you and Paige sit side by side, a row of reporters in front of you, microphones held up like weapons ready to attack. The lights in the gym are blinding, and the low hum of chatter, camera clicks, and reporters scribbling notes fill the space. It’s the last place you want to be.

Paige, sensing your discomfort, takes the lead in most of the interviews. She fields question after question, her voice steady and charming as she answers everything from season goals to the team’s camaraderie. Next to her, you sit rigidly in your chair, staring at the ground, fingers pressing hard into your palms as if trying to will the pain away.

Every so often, a reporter directs a question at you, and Paige watches closely, knowing that forming coherent, professional sentences is probably the last thing you want to do. Still, you force a tight smile and give a short, clipped response, voice strained but composed. The pain etched across your face is subtle, but it’s there—just enough for Paige to notice, though you try your best to keep your expression neutral.

It’s damn near agonizing for Paige to watch you like this, especially when she knows how badly you’re hurting. She can tell that the migraine’s wrecking you, she’s been there for so many at this point that she knows all the little signs like the back of her hand. She wishes she could turn the lights down, quiet the reporters, and just take you somewhere dark and silent to rest. But there’s nothing she can do—you just have to endure it.

As the interview drags on, one reporter, a man who looks younger and more inexperienced than the others and who’s clearly growing impatient with your curt answers, rudely points at you, addressing you by name before saying, “You really don’t look like you want to be here today. I mean, is something wrong with you?”

The words come out sharp and are strictly unprofessional. Your eyes flicker toward the reporter, though you can’t see half of him due to the darkness shadowing parts of your vision. You open your mouth, then close it, unsure of what to say. Your brain is hardly functioning, the throbbing in your skull is unbearable, and you can’t even muster the strength to care about his tone. All you want is for this to be over.

But Paige cares.

Her gaze snaps to the reporter, her eyes narrowing dangerously. Her posture shifts, body leaning slightly forward, protective instincts kicking in immediately. Usually, she’d stay more poised, composed, let her media training do the work for her. But she isn’t about to let anyone talk to you like that, especially not today.

“Excuse me?” Paige’s voice is sharp, cutting through the room. She’s sure that there’s a camera recording this right now but she quite literally could not care less. “What did you just say?”

The reporter, startled by Paige’s reaction, fumbles for a moment before stammering, “Um, I just mean that she looks… unwell. She’s not really answering the questions.”

Paige’s jaw tightens. “Maybe you should think before you speak next time. She’s here, answering your questions to the best of her ability despite not feeling great, and you should respect that instead of makin’ snide comments.”

The side of the gym they’re on grows even quieter, the weight of Paige’s words settling in the air. You, who’s still staring at the floor, blinks, heart swelling with gratitude. You don’t really have the energy to defend yourself, let alone sit up with your eyes open against the bright lights, but knowing Paige has your back—it’s everything.

The reporter, realizing he’s on thin ice, mutters an apology, his face turning red under the harsh lights. Paige doesn’t bother to acknowledge it, her focus shifting back to you, her hand subtly reaching out to squeeze your knee under the table.

The rest of the interview continues, but Paige’s attention is divided now. She keeps on eye on the reporters, answering questions with ease, but her other eye is always on you, watching closely. Your face has gone even paler, and every few minutes, your eyes flutter shut as if you don’t even have the strength to keep them open against the blinding pain.

Finally, the session begins to wind down, and as soon as the last question is answered, Paige is out of her chair, gently taking your arm and leading you away from the microphones and cameras. The two of you step into a hallway, away from the noise and lights, and as soon as you’re alone, you lean heavily against the wall, closing your eyes with a shaky breath.

“Jesus,” you mutter, rubbing your temples. “Feel like my head’s about to explode.”

Paige wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you close. “I know, baby. You did so good, though. We’re almost done, okay? Just a little longer, and then I’m taking you back to the hotel. Dark room, no noise, just you and me.”

You nod, though even that small motion seems to cause you pain. And you pray that she does good on that promise, especially as the two of you go back into the gym. You end up sitting on a bench next to Azzi waiting, resting your head on her shoulder, eyes squeezed shut in a desperate attempt to block out the harsh gym lights and constant noise. Your head throbs with a relentless pulse, nausea rolling in waves, and your entire body feels like it’s on the verge of collapse. Azzi’s softly rubbing your arm in a comforting rhythm, whispering little encouragements.

But when Geno and CD approach, apologetically telling Paige that she and you have one more interview to do, Paige immediately starts protesting.

“No. No way. I can do it by myself,” she says firmly, already standing in front of the two coaches, shielding you from them like a protective wall. “She’s not in the right state for this. Just look at her.”

Geno and CD turn their heads to look over at you. You’re still slumped against Azzi, face pale and drawn. Your lips are pressed into a tight line, and your eyes are glossed over, clearly fighting back tears of pain. It’s not a pretty sight.

“I know, Paige,” CD says, eyes soft with sympathy. “We hate this as much as you do. But this interview is important. She’s got to do it, too.”

Paige’s jaw clenches, eyes flashing. “CD, come on,” she says in what can only be called a plea. “Please—she’s hurting. She’s in pain. You’re tellin’ me we can’t work somethin’ out?”

Geno sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I wish we could, kid,” he tells her. “But this is the last one, I promise. After this, you can take her back.”

Paige mutters a curse under her breath, her frustration boiling beneath the surface. She glances back at you, who’s face is so pale and worn-out that it makes Paige’s stomach twist.

“Fine,” she says finally, voice tight with defeat. “But this is the last time I’m putting her through this.”

Geno and CD both give a nods of understanding, and Paige turns, making her way back over to you. Kneeling in front of you, she places a gentle hand on your knee. “Hey,” she whispers, her voice soft with regret. “I’m so sorry, baby, but we gotta do one more interview. Just one more, and then you’re done, yeah?”

You open your eyes, and the utter pain in your expression makes Paige’s heart ache. You look like you’re damn near about to cry, eyes brimming with unshed tears, but you nod weakly anyways, ready to do what you need to even though you’ve clearly hit your limit.

Paige sighs, hating this situation more than anything. She leans in, pressing a light kiss to your forehead, hoping in vain that it might ease some of the pain within your cerebrum. “I promise, after this, I’m taking you away, okay? I ain’t letting anyone stop us.”

You nod again, swallowing hard as you fight to keep yourself in check. Paige stands, gently helping you to your feet, and together, the two of you make your way toward the interviewers, you subtly leaning on Paige as much as you can, because if you’re honest, you can’t see most of your surroundings.

The interview itself is a nightmare. The questions seem never-ending, and although Paige answers most of them, there’s still some directed only at you that you’re responsible for. Each time, you know you sound stupid, voice hoarse and response almost incoherent. The lights are too bright, the noise too overwhelming, and by the end of it, you visibly look like you’d rather die than be here.

As soon as the interview is done, you don’t even wait for Paige. You rush out of the gym, once again heading straight for a hallway where it’s at least a little bit darker. Paige hurries after you, catching up just as you half-collapse against the wall, fighting tears.

“It hurts so bad, P,” you cry raggedly. You clutch at your head, hands trembling as you press them to your temples before moving them over to your eyes, squeezing them shut and pressing your palms against them hard. “I—fuck—I can’t—”

Paige’s stomach constricts. She wraps her arms around you, pulling you close, pressing your face into her neck to shield your eyes from any and all light. “Shh, I’ve got you. I’ve got you,” Paige whispers, making sure to be as quiet as possible, voice filled with soothing warmth. She gently rubs your back, rocking you slightly as you’re near-sobbing against her.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” Paige murmurs thickly. “I shoulda fought harder to get you outta that. But I’mma take you back to the hotel now, okay? I don’t care what the fuck else we’re supposed to do today.”

You don’t respond with words, just nod weakly against Paige’s neck, fingers clutching tightly at the blonde’s shirt as if trying to ground yourself.

Paige carefully guides you to sit on a bench in the hallway, leaning you back against the cool wall. “Wait here for just a sec, okay? I’mma be right back, just gotta tell Coach and CD we’re leaving.”

You nod again, your eyes fluttering closed as you rest your head against the wall. Paige brushes her thumb over your cheek, her heart splinting all over again at the sight of you in so much fucking pain. Then, with determination in her step, Paige turns and goes in search of Geno and CD.

When she finds them, they’re in the middle of talking to a few other staff members, but Paige doesn’t care. She marches up to them, her expression set in stone.

“I’m taking her back right now,” Paige says firmly, unwavering. “I’m sorry, but I don’t care what else we’re supposed to do here. She’s in too much pain, and I’m not putting her through any more of this. And I’m definitely not sending her back by herself.”

CD looks like she wants to argue, but one look at Paige’s determined face, and Paige can tell the older woman knows it’s pointless. Geno sighs, his shoulders sagging.

“Go,” he says quietly. “Take her. We’ll handle the rest.” He gestures to himself and CD, then over to where Azzi, Ash, and Sarah stand.

Paige nods once, her gratitude unspoken but clear. She doesn’t waste another second, turning on her heel and heading straight back to you. Once she gets to you, she helps you up, wrapping a firm arm around your waist. The two of you head toward the doors and then are out into the cool air of the New York streets. The noise of the city hits you like a wall—cars honking, sirens wailing faintly in the distance, the chatter of pedestrians—but Paige moves quickly, guiding you down the sidewalk.

The hotel is technically within walking distance, but Paige refuses to put you through that. Instead, she stops at the curb, pulls out her phone, and hails an Uber.

“It’s okay,” she whispers as you press yourself against her side, hiding your face in her shoulder as the nausea rolls through you again. “‘M not making you walk, don’t worry.”

The car pulls up almost immediately. Paige helps you inside first, sliding in next to you and carefully pulling you into her side again, buckling your seatbelt for you. It’s probably the shortest car ride of either of your lives, and you don’t say a word for any of it, just continuing to rest your head on her shoulder, eyes squeezed shut. Paige presses a soft kiss to your temple, reassuring you you’re almost there.

When the car pulls up to the hotel, Paige thanks the driver quickly, helping you out of the car with her hands steady on your hips. You cling to her without hesitation, your legs barely cooperating as, by this point, the majority of your body has gone numb. She doesn’t mind, though, guiding you through the lobby and toward the elevator. The ding of the doors makes you wince and Paige notices immediately. “I know, baby,” she murmurs softly, guiding you inside and pressing the button for your floor.

The ride up is quiet except for your unsteady breathing, and Paige’s grip never loosens. As soon as the doors open, she’s leading you to the room, swiping the keycard and pushing the door open in one smooth motion.

“Here we go,” Paige says gently, helping you inside. She lets you stumble toward the bed, watching closely as you basically collapse onto it with a shaky breath. Paige then moves to the windows, yanking the curtains shut until the room is bathed in near-total darkness. The relief is instant—you let out a soft sigh, your body relaxing just slightly as the pressure in your head dulls a little without the presence of light.

Paige isn’t done. She rummages through your bag until she finds your medication again, grabbing a bottle of water from the mini fridge before kneeling next to the bed. “Hey,” she says softly, brushing your hair back from your damp forehead. “You gotta take this, yeah? It’ll help.”

You groan faintly in protest, turning your face into the pillow, but Paige doesn’t back down. “Ma, c’mon,” she coaxes, voice firm but still tender. “I know it sucks, but you gotta take it. Just one more thing, and then you can rest.”

Reluctantly, you crack your eyes open, barely able to see her face in the dark, but you feel the pill pressed gently to your lips. You take it without complaint this time, swallowing it down with a sip of water Paige helps you hold.

“Good job, baby,” she praises, pressing another kiss to your forehead. She sets the bottle on the nightstand before kicking off her shoes and climbing into bed with you, immediately wrapping her arms around you. She pulls you close, her chest flush against your back, one arm sliding under your head to cushion it while the other wraps proactively around your waist.

“I’ve got you,” she whispers softly into your ear, her breath warm against your skin. “It’s okay, baby. Just breathe. ‘M right here.”

You whimper faintly in response, you body still shaking, but you relax the tiniest bit in her hold. Paige’s touch is gentle, her thumb tracing slow, soothing circles over your stomach as she tries to calm you down. She presses a soft kiss to the back of your head, murmuring sweet nothings that you can barely process through the pain.

A small sob escapes you as a particularly harsh stab to your skull hits. Paige only pulls you closer, holding you like she can absorb all of your pain into herself. “I know it hurts. I know,” she says softly, her voice cracking slightly as she wishes, more than anything, that she could take it all away for you. “But I’m not goin’ anywhere. I’m here. Always.”

And she means it—Paige Bueckers would hold you through every second of the pain if it meant you didn’t have to face it alone.

#paige bueckers #uconn wbb #paige bueckers fic #uconn huskies #wcbb #wbb #uconn #paige bueckers x oc #paige bueckers fluff #paige bueckers smut #paige bueckers x reader #wcbb x reader #wnba #wlw #lgbtq #ncaa wbb

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kooyabooya · 2 months ago

Text

DISAVOW

kim dahyun x m reader

5k words

“Let me get this straight: you slept with Momo?”

(Okay, that’s one way to get a conversation going if you were in Dahyun’s shoes.)

“I’m not gonna ask a second time. Answer the goddamn question.”

–

It already feels wrong to commit the action, and even worse to say it. Most of the day has been pretty bad as it is. Dahyun had a rough day at work when a bunch of things didn’t go her way. Just one unfortunate instance onto the next. Woke up late, missing a few makeup supplies, late to work because of a stupid ticket, and didn’t even get to reshoot the one scene for her role because the director apparently ‘forgot’. She really was just sitting in her trailer till she felt like dying.

As for your case. You had a long day too. So, you slept. Just- not in the way neither you or Momo had suspected. It’s not her fault she flaunted a body too tempting for the average man to resist, especially with that mouth of hers. You had to shut her up, and it’s somewhat safe to say that this was a tipping point of what was happening in the workplace leading up to the incident.

You’re setting the record straight, even if the lines are beginning to be scribbled lazily. Dahyun’s gaze remains unfazed while you’re trying to down as much wine as possible and she just told you that you’ve slept with one of your coworkers plus her best friend and you’re not sure how much worse this ultimatum could get.

Clearing your throat, sighing. Because the day can’t get any shitter. “You- didn’t even give me a chance to speak?”

“Which is why I’m letting you speak now.”

“Can we not make a big deal out of this?!”

“A big deal? Christ- do you hear yourself? With Momo?!” Dahyun raises her voice in agitation. You couldn’t have seen that coming. Scratch that: you definitely should’ve seen it coming.

Did you even think of what was gonna happen? Fuck no.

You and Momo are equally blamed for that.

Recalling the memory of Sana’s party, you remember seeing Momo in that strapless red dress, hot off the sewing machines showcased from the Met Gala, and Chaeyoung herself was even appalled at the appearance. Dahyun also was in agreement, unfailing to look away because she would’ve asked how your reaction would’ve been if she was sheathed in red. And the way Momo strutted her way to you two felt right out of a movie where all the girls are working towards stealing something valuable later.

(In a slight retrospect, yeah. You’ve seen the signs before.)

“Well, aren’t you gonna explain to me why?” Dahyun demands, and you’re wishing the wine was a whiskey instead. This kind of conversation was not one to be done sober.

“What do you want me to say!” You’re exclaiming, a mere move of the arm not tantamount to what you’ve done. “It’s not my fault that she’s equally all over me as you!”

And Dahyun, of all people, knows this. You and her are both sides of the same coin when it comes to Momo being the sole catalyst. Not since you’ve walked in on them accidentally while visiting their dance practice and that was the fastest one-eighty you did ever in your life. Or when Momo pulled you off to the side in some bar and made you forget about the belt left in the bathroom when everything’s all said and done. Or- the time they made you feel like a hotshot when they both visited your office and that was the talking point in the break room for freaking months.

You can sense the rage boiling in Dahyun, so much of it you can actually smell. Steaming off her pale skin in these rare occasions to where it turns into wanting to fuck someone into the sheets. You feel it. It’s hot when Dahyun gets like this, and you want it. The same could be said for Momo when she makes you wanna pop a blood vessel. Depending on the circumstance, and the girl, it varies from moment to moment.

While you can sense the blistering warmth enveloping the room, your hands grip the obsidian countertop to cool your nerves. If you wanted to make the hard choice - and you really, really wished you didn’t - it’s Dahyun. You want the girl who’s been at your side since college but can’t say a word without getting a slap on your arm or pinch of the ear, who willingly gives you a few extra napkins while eating out because she could never finish her meal and doesn’t say much to be annoying in order to get a rise or even when her other friends tease you and she can’t do much to protect either you or herself. Some days her face lights up when she walks out of the office and sees you waiting on the second step leaning on the railing and you look at her at the other corner of the room and wonder how she’d handle your cock. There’s also the fact she would taste so much better than the wine, a fine course once indulging in the appetizers.

Momo, in some corner of the world is probably thinking of this moment and watching with her palms rubbed together, devilishly smiling. Dahyun still can’t believe that you went to Momo. You had a sliver of interest to her friend as much as she did (again, another topic to be saved for another day, but if Dahyun’s pulling your finger, Momo’s doing the exact same thing too) but she’s funny and chaotic and if you really look into it - where you’ve done time and time before - then Momo’s in it for the fun at ripping the seams and leaving no care for the damages she leaves behind. Nayeon or Sana, whoever can get to Momo first, this girl is a problem.

“The fuck you say?”

You inhale deep, lighten your fingers off the edge. It didn’t occur to you what was said just now. “She wants me. Momo wants me, Dahyun. Simple as that. No strings attached.”

Dahyun huffs, toying the ends of her hair. She stares at you sliding the glass further and further away, unbuttoning the ends of your sleeves and you’re beginning to think of the limitless ideas running through her head of how to get your hands tied to her imagination. “Knowing her, I get the fact she’s-” her fingers are in two’s, making quotations, “-a literal sex tornado.”

That should be it. The end of the conversation right there. You and Momo fucked, end of story. Your mind isn’t helping in playing back the memory: eye fucking Momo a week prior, flash forward a few days after, winding up in Momo’s place and focusing on the heat, her finger, that fucking pussy; the messy bangs when you’re holding her head close to yours and her lips next to your ear. Dahyun wished that was her, cumming on your cock instead of Momo. Your wife, who’s within an arm's reach of the assortment of knives, looks at you as you think about Dahyun (or Momo) cumming. The idea of her killing you is a fast way to finish this ordeal.

“I-” Your tongue freezes between the words. “Not arguing with that statement, actually.”

Dahyun laughs, out of pure disbelief, walks her way towards you. Taking the bottle of wine and setting it next to the fridge. “If we’re going to be transparent with each other, no one else is going to get you fucked in the way that I do.”

Clenching your teeth was way much worse than her not grabbing the knife and charging at you. “Momo knows it was a one time thing. It was always gonna be a one time thing.”

“And it should always be me.” Dahyun says. Rolling her eyes with a disgusted crunch on her face

You could see her hand ball up in a fist. Both of your feet remain unmoved and the air hitting your neck comes in tiny pricks.

“Though,” her voice dejected, “seems like one of us has forgotten that.”

You lick your teeth, bite your lip.

“Care to elaborate?”

She looks up, tilts her head one side and to the opposite, shifts her gaze to the empty wine glass, seeing you in her peripheral. “I’m not gonna explain myself here.”

“Why not?”

Her shoulders tense and relax. “No matter who you talk to, whether it’s my friends crushing hard on you or after a long terrible day, I should be the one at the end of it.” Dahyun’s voice becomes increasingly agitated.

“It’s always you. Always.”

“Is that what you think? Have we not done everything to convince ourselves that?” Her hand lightly slaps the countertop, the wisps in her hair falling to the front of her face. “I’m not the one who’s forgotten our commitments.”

Your head starts to spin, heart pounding at an immeasurable rate. “You’re right. I have.”

Dahyun runs a hand down her face, then her neck. She would have these instances under stress, doing everything she can to micromanage herself and not have the other person take notice because: she’s not the kind of girl you’d want to piss off.

Some people- coworkers or co-stars - if you will, were very attentive at how Dahyun operated on and off the clock, watching her do these roles and have a guy or girl you don't even know much about have their care when you know it isn’t the case when she’s behind closed doors with you.

You start to feel uneasy, rubbing your palm across your leg, and when Dahyun crosses her arms as you’re slotting yourself behind. She looks over her shoulder, the slight tension of muscle and you haven’t even put your hands on the girl yet. You’re still gauging, waiting for her to talk. “Dahyun, please,” you mumble, fingers curling her elbows, slithering them in place around her waist.

“You-” and she sighs. “I hate when you do shit like this behind my back, especially if it’s with somebody that I’m also very close with.”

“Momo-”

“Momo told you to go to her.”

“The one time. I swear.”

“And yet you still went while I was out busy.” Dahyun’s accusation doesn’t sit on your nerves right, and your grip softens.

“I was gonna tell you before you left. And it was gonna come off the lines as ‘Hey! I know you’re probably busy, but I need a favor. Does Dahyun mind if I borrow you for a couple hours? Maybe have a few drinks with another person, probably Jihyo, and who knows?’ She could bring a few things over and we can talk about something more interesting besides work.’ That’s how I wished it would’ve gone.”

Dahyun laughs softly. Since you know very well that if you told her some half-assed constructed lie on the spot, she would’ve been fine with it. You’re aware of how jealous she could get without explicitly saying it and show instead. She wouldn’t have stopped you from going that day, and she’s not stopping your hand lightly clutching her breast. “Maybe a heads up from you or Momo would’ve been nice,” she huffs, leaning her head up to where the breath canvases your neck. “Now it looks like I have another thing to deal with once all of this is over with our work.”

“She’s shown you a thing or two, why not have her do it again?” You taunt.

Dahyun rolls her eyes once more. “Starting to think you should’ve married her instead.”

“We are not going there. Momo just went out of line because she’s missing that aspect in her life. I’m not regretting my choice here.”

‘My choice has always been the same as before,’ you felt compelled to say, ‘You.’ Dahyun has every right to be furious. You want to prove everything to her again. “Fucks sake, Dahyun.”

“Don’t twist this back on me.” Her voice snaps. “Enough. I’m tired. Let me get ready for bed. I can save this conversation for later. When we’re both in the right headspace.”

You pull your hands off of Dahyun, but not stepping back. This kind of proximity is always nice to keep. “I'm still guilty as charged?”

“For marrying me? Never.” For being a shortsighted bastard who’s lucky to not be out of the house by now. You wonder about her thoughts, or something like that. “Be glad I like you and Momo both.”

So you settle your bearings and back away. Dahyun hands you the wine bottle for you to place in the fridge while she heads to the bedroom, but stops her tracks when she notices you reach for your phone on the kitchen counter.

“Hey.”

“Hm?”

“Who- are you gonna call?”

You don’t answer her question and press the phone to your ear; you mouth the word ‘Momo,’ and give her a shameless wink as another way to piss her off

(You might be an actual fucking idiot for doing this though you’re doing it anyway.)

There is absolutely no way you’re pressing her buttons after she indirectly threatened to kill you. Calling Momo after what went down is only going to solidify your undoing. You don’t even put the wine back in the fridge and walk past Dahyun, barely getting far as she swipes the phone out your hand and pins you to a nearby cabinet - lips crashing against yours, hard.

Her taste is infectious, parting your lips wider by the second. Mixed with the cold wine and the iced tea along with the fading hints of her lavender mint perfume Dahyun would spray on occasions - it’s not worth fighting against at all, she’s throwing her body onto you; the sweet rush burning from within, bending the will to her and the urge to do the same keeps growing and growing, holding the small of her back while the phone’s cast aside.

The line’s still ringing. She could hear it too, and you’re starting to worry if the call goes to voicemail, slipping a finger or two underneath Dahyun’s jaw and tip it upwards so you can keep her occupied at her neck. Her chest rises, gut sucking in. “For the love of god, Momo, please don’t pick this up,” you murmur, keeping a close eye on the screen while you’re forcing Dahyun to the counter.

Like Dahyun, it seems the universe is against you, because Momo’s lower voice comes over the line in that instant. “Hey, you don’t usually call at this hour. What’s up?”

Dahyun snatches the phone and you’re left clasping the empty hand, wincing, puffing one side of your cheek. She examines the contact name before flashing a look, answering with a soft sing-song tone. “Momo! Hi!”

“Don’t say anything to give it away,” you order. Both hands are on her hips, lifting her up funnily where her feet barely touch the floor, knees touching yours and filling the space in the middle. You could feel the rising heat from her shorts and she won’t deny needing this.

Even in the faces too - close to the point where your cheeks are grazing when Momo says, “Uh, is everything good?” and you can hear the casual innocence with some of the sexual implication laced in the words. You’re saving the trouble with her for another day; for now, you’re just gonna slide your hands up Dahyun’s thighs and beneath her sweater.

“No, no, yeah, I’m okay, I-” Dahyun’s breath stops when your mouth’s pressed open to her neck, and down her collarbone. “Didn’t manage to find my phone in time so I used-”

“Your hubby’s phone instead?”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

Welp, as if things couldn’t be less serious. Two of your flings are keeping it light with the exchanges. Dahyun looks back at you, a wicked smile emerging. “Girl, what is it with you this time?” Momo’s voice asks, “I swear if it’s about the incident with the dogs-”

“Stop it, now,” you say, and Dahyun shakes her head no with a tempting pout of her lips. As if you’re not slipping off her (your) sweater, for god’s sake. You let your hand skate upward to the clasp of her bra, having it come undone and bring your fingers back around to her small breasts and not do anything about thumbing her nipples in a circular motion and her breathing gets to an irregular rate. Momo’s spilling off into a string of apologies and what Boo and Dooby did to poor Ari to the point where your mouth’s back to the mouthpiece and centimeters off Dahyn’s mouth, whispering: “Hang. The fuck. Up.”

Dahyun glares at you with kneaded brows and it causes a snap in the nerves, bucking back into her.

Really? At a time like this? You shouldn’t be one to test me.

That alone is rewarded with a look of astonishment across her face. Momo on the opposite end of the line sighs to unknowingly make her presence and this girl’s timing is intentionally tragic. “Sorry, didn’t mean to get ahead of myself. Say, did you want me to drop by sometime tomorrow?”

Right when Momo asks that, Dahyun fails to answer since she’s burning lasers directly into your eyes. You’ve got a handful of her breast and the other digging in the waistband of her shorts, aware of the fact that you’re both married to each other and she’s on the phone with one of her best friends who fucked around too much and it’s defiant to the vows; but that’s a one time thing, right?

Dahyun simply just says: “You can. I don’t have anything in the afternoon. Feel free to swing by after lunch,” and she doesn’t falter her gaze at all. She’s winning. Saving the relationship. Not even the headlines or the blade to your heart could ever compare.

You hope it never comes to that.

“Alright. It’s settled then. I’ll see you at your place later,” says Momo on the phone.

“See you soon.” Dahyun replies.

The call goes dead soon after.

Dahyun holds the phone between your faces, staring at you with the endless void past those eyes. You’ve got the green light - the go ahead, you really should, and enticingly could, in the next few seconds, make her feel like the only thing that mattered before she even has a chance to change her mind. A fucking insanity it is to have the thought of asking if she’s okay with this because someone’s gotta play the nice guy here. Silence fills the air with the quiet exhales and the returning beep of the smoke detector down the hall.

“So now you want this?” You remark, hands right where they are - where they’re supposed to be.

Dahyun’s throat bobs. Her eyes flick from your mouth to your eyes and to her body, seeing nothing else but your hair when she feels the lips touch her sweet skin. To be meticulous and not cut the wrong wire is extremely, extremely difficult. The pale shade she carries is warm and soft and you can feel the gentle bump of her heart on your hands and face. Your foot is slipping across the hardwood. All she does is breath carefully and you feel it hit your jaw.

The worst thing she could do is say no. You’re more unsure of not being clear enough and she’ll probably forget it in the next few minutes. That undeclared authority, the unspoken ownership of each other, anything goes if one makes the move first. As much as you’d love to slip your hand beneath her shorts, (if you hadn’t done so already) she has to want it also. So you sigh and tip her forehead to yours. “Dahyun, I need to hear it. How much you want it.”

Her face freezes, holding herself best she could, tilting her head back as she places the phone flat on the counter. It’s bleak, incoherent: “Oh, you have no idea.”

(As if she couldn’t have made it more clearer.)

You pick up right where it’s left off - without the overbearing tension - clutching her sides as she wraps her arms around your neck, flushing her hips with yours. She’s gripping the ends of your hair and keeps kissing while you’re marking up her neck; a power move in stripping her to nothing, and the both of you know it well, picking up the slack where the other leaves. Her hand goes astray, slipping to the phone.

“Don’t even think about it,” you rasp against Dahyun’s mouth, pulling her lower lip.

“Wanna find out what happens if Momo got a facetime call just now?” She mumbles back, grinning.

You feel her hand hook your nape, pressing a thumb down the crease of her thigh with a little more force. “Momo can go fuck herself.”

“Momo managed to get herself fucked by you, didn’t she?”

She giggles while you inhale a sharp sound, fingers curling around the waistband of her shorts and revealing the white ends of her panties. “Save the bullshit for later.”

“Later?” Dahyun’s taunting is one to go up against, when the jealousy is strong enough to be forced back around. Her version of karma. “Why don’t you tell me all the things you did-”

Your fingers graze the fabric, lock eyes with hers. “Dahyun. You wouldn’t fucking call her again. I dare you.”

“Or what-”

Dahyun fixes her gaze when your hand slips out of her shorts, dragging her shorts and white laced panties to the floor. “I suggest you find something to hold. Quick.”

“Hold as in what-”

You spread her thighs open. Okay, maybe this is a little bit rushed. Maybe you should’ve done more of the kissing, the teasing, lay a few more red marks on the plush thighs before ghosting your breath over the exposed flesh in between and put her over your shoulder to the bedroom to show what she signed up for. Instead, your mouth’s been good in this predicament, and the patience can keep you at bay for so long; you lean in with your arm at her leg and just focus on the girl in your hands.

Better than stainless steel. She tastes salty and sweet. You can imagine what it’ll be like when you get to the sticky part.

Dahyun exhales next to you, glancing over to see that she’s kept her eyes up to the air and not doing much to close her mouth. She’s doing that awe expression when one of her costars does something stupid, and it’s not the ideal look you were expecting, shifting your weight a little more forcefully her lower half bucks at the touch. You pinch her hip and lightly tap her clit. “Oh fuck- okay,” gasps Dahyun. Her hand goes lazy and moves the phone off the obsidian and grasps where she can - the shoulders, the back, all the same.

That’s enough to pause for a second and grin wickedly, pupils blown. “Look what happens when you don’t listen.”

“Fuck off.” Dahyun manages, pulling you in at the nape. “Are you gonna keep talking or are you- ah-”

While you’re traversing down a familiar path, in her sensitive areas and remembering the form of her lips on yours, you hold her steady, two fingers inching at the opening. She curses, nails carving up skin, and there’s a light slap of skin to hard surface, clutching to the counter. She’s melting in your arms and the sounds are turning your synapses to mush. You were expecting her to be more adamant, more desperate to make you stay; though, it doesn’t take much for you - no more than ten minutes and you’ve got it all sorted. Either that, or- you know her well enough to fix her up without asking.

If anything it’s the solution she’s been searching for, the same desperation for you to tear her insides and instill the lost belief. Even if it meant for Momo to play a role in commensurating. For Momo to steer you away from the light for just a small moment.

Maybe all of this was the point of it all.

Dahyun stops you with both hands on your chest, catching her breath, staring down your palm flat to her waist. “Momo had no idea what she was getting herself into,” you say, “But she knew what she was doing.”

She looks at you quizzical. “That woman has plans of her own.”

You kneel down to kiss her leaking cunt, earning a heel to the shoulder blade. Soothing the sudden sensation with a lick of her crease at the thigh, keeping your eyes level. “God knows we’re playing her game instead.”

“As if,” breathes Dahyun, and lightly slaps your face. But that doesn’t stop you from going at her neck. “Keep the ‘what if’s’ all you want. Don’t you dare leave me like this.”

“Who said I’d hold back on you?”

So you’re leaning back in, deeper. Meet her mouth and slot your tongue to her lips and get your fingers warm again. “You knew I had an eye on Momo ever since that time. And it seems like she had the same thought,” you proclaim.

Her knee grazes your side and her foot wraps to your ass. “What if I were to go to Momo the next time around? What then?”

“You wouldn’t, Dahyun,” you grumble, sliding your fingers out and swiping them on the inside of her thigh. “Why don’t we find out if the roles are reversed.”

“Start with me first,” she demands.

“With pleasure,” you relent, and you’re yanking her from the small of her back, stabilizing herself with the foot to your posterior. The grip to your neck, into the defined muscle, and she’ll keep on holding on for dear life if the bruises are meant to stay for eternity. You want her to reciprocate the wanting, let her mark you for the keepsake. “You’re gonna owe me for this once it’s over - when I can make you cum like she can’t replicate-”

“Healthy competition,” she seethes, and her whole body tenses when you let her flat on the counter to tend the wet lines on her legs. Nibbling gently; enough to indirectly say that you’ll fall on your knees but still have the power.

“I could go to her tomorrow.” You propose to Dahyun with her foot on your collarbone before slipping past your back, the angle left open for your hand to resume the unfinished work. “Bring up last night, and ask what she did to me that you didn’t have, then tell her the predicament we’re in. I could even bring you along to confess the whole thing. Now that would be interesting.”

This might be a little out of line for your standards. Possessiveness? Toxicity? All the boxes are being ticked off for the times you had to peel Dahyun off from the girls. Sana didn’t take much convincing. Tzuyu is attached to the poor girl’s hip. Nayeon wouldn’t shut up about liking Dahyun’s ass. At the end of the day, she’s yours. No one could ever get her like this and the whole world knows it.

It shouldn’t piss you off this much but it is; you alone knows how dangerous it could be to drop the healthy mindset and let the anger flow into the fucking, but this is Dahyun at her most vulnerable - where she’s burning red and addicting in your mouth, and you’ve kept it calm and lighthearted half the times. And this is one of the many where you’re itching to ruin her.

“What more do I have to do to make you see me, and only me,” she sneers, lost in rapture and her pools of black and her seeping cunt. “This pussy should be enough as it is, no?

“Fuck yes,” you gasp, bitting another open area of skin left unclaimed. “Trust me, I’m getting you there, but if you wanna keep complaining-”

Her back arches and she’s near your heart. “You motherfucker-”

You angle your head for a better view and- aw, pitiful. Fixing her up with the opposite hand to her hip and close to the end of the counter, Dahyun setting herself straight so her face is right in front of yours. “What’s wrong? Gonna cum for me?” You hover over her mouth. Go off the deep end. Fast. Rough. Her teeth almost cut the end of your tongue off. The grip she has in her small hands is steel tight, but her legs aren’t following the same page. “It’s okay, baby,” you coax again, muffling the moan passing through her lips, “relax-”

Almost there. She’s almost there. In the pace of her breaths and clenching of her stomach - the lavender and faint hints of mint fogging your vision and it’s fucking fantastic - there we go, cmon honey, do it, do it, you can’t take much more of this-

Dahyun buries her face into the side of your throat and she does, the whine loud enough tells you how hard as a plus.

The feeling is probably up there in the few times throughout your life: Kim Dahyun squirting and cumming on your fingers, sobbing and sweating and spilling whimpers down your chest as you’re easing her in the motions. You can get her like this again later, fuck the sense out of her brain and body where she can’t function, and your name the only psalm she can recite to convert her ideals.

You’re patting her back and shushing her on the come down, breaths still hot on your collarbone. By the way, you’ve still got your fingers deep inside her, initiating her to pinch your shoulder, shift the hands around to where she’s most comfortable.

Her breathing intertwined with yours joins the creaking of the floorboards beneath, securing her at her ass while her upper body is still at your chest. Still naked and weakly pulling your shirt off, shuffling to the couch to rest from the short trip. Cradling your head with her hair in a worse mess than before, earnestly staring at you so lovingly. The sparkle in your eyes gives a faint smile across her lips and you’re left speechless. It’s hard for you to ignore the tightness in your pants, tapping your fingertips across her skin, and you’re not thinking about Momo as much now.

In the end, it was always going to be Dahyun. You love the idea of claiming her as yours. Making her cum like that before your clothes have even dropped to the floor. It’s an adoration in itself - pressing your lips to hers and to her temple - the many instances of adoring her, all fucked out and barren, resting on you with the trail of clothes back in the kitchen and making an indirect vow that she belongs with you. That alone should be enough to stay with you forever.

So it does. When the tension is finally past the highest. She lifts her head off of you and blinks.

“You made me squirt on my favorite sweater.”

“Oops.” you chuckle.

She could’ve said anything else. Not even the red blotches and bite marks can ever suffice the way she’s back to her straightforward and subtle self. You won’t forget she was on the precipice of killing someone tonight and you just gave her an orgasm as a way of forgiveness but aware enough for it to come bite you back in the ass someday. Whether you’re at each other’s throats or suffocating at the clench or thrust later - it’ll be found out eventually, but all you say is: “For the record, that was my sweater.”

Dahyun fakes a laughing sound. “My bad for dropping your phone.”

“You wanna go there?”

Dahyun then laughs genuinely, her body extending all the loose ends so simply but very delicately. “No, dingus. We’re fine,” she reassures, swinging one leg off and the other and you can’t keep your eyes off of that ass of hers.

You track her pathing through the house barefoot and naked and consciously; picking up the sweater, her shorts, and the panties too - your phone back on the counter and not to be checked for the rest of the night. She slips into the hallway and a few seconds pass, turning the other cheek when she’s in a used soccer jersey.

She leans her shoulder onto the wall and puts her back to the drywall, and you feel suspended in time just staring at each other. Your thumb runs across the four fingertips and run your tongue on the edge of your teeth. Her blush is faded and eyes half-open. Legs defined by the muscle and her hips just meet the end of his shirt, not to mention the waist forming as the cotton’s pulled to the rear. That boner’s still there, too, and manspreading the only method to do right where she left you, she’s definitely seen it before and it’s amazing how she hasn’t mentioned it yet.

Breaking the silence: “I don’t think I can stand up, babe.”

Dahyun sighs, shaking her head and beaming a soft smile. “Were you thinking about me or Momo just now?”

You laugh, because she has it figured out. “If I answered the latter, then my dick would be chopped off.” Besides, it won’t be that long for you to ignore the clothes if she’s keeping her distance with that choice of clothing - especially the fact she definitely has nothing underneath.

It’s on purpose too. She still needs her fix, after all.

There’s a reason she’s not helping you, nor suggesting for you to wash up because there’s a whole lot of mess left to be dealt with. And the thought of not doing anything was also a plausible choice - though that would piss her off even more - Dahyun observes when you finally stand and walk toward her. Watching as the height difference increases the more she tilts her gaze upwards.

Sinning and penance are both routes to take from the shared cause. You either let your head fill with regret, or channel that devotion to someone who’s willing to take it all. That familiar swing of tension is in the air once again. “So, what will it be, sir?”

You lean down and take her lips. Lift her off her feet and have them bracket around your waist. “Seems like I still owe you.”

“Oh really,” she sighs, moaning again when the touches are more desperate, rough. Carrying her through the corridor and into the bedroom, but not until she stops at the walkway. “You think this will be enough for you to stay away from Momo?”

You arch an eyebrow. “It takes more than my decision to make that happen.” It should, you also think, but Dahyun doesn’t expand on that answer.

“Fuck me good till the morning and I’ll leave it up to you,” says Dahyun, and you nod. Her string of laughs and moans growing louder in the bedroom and that’s everything you ever needed.

–

It’s not until much later when you’re staring into space, where the whirr of the espresso machine doubles down on the trance as you try to process the events unfolded in the past couple weeks. The tinge on your lips and the soreness at your cock. Your head spinning in the endless cycle of self-introspection until it’s ended by the vibration of your phone on the counter, left untouched from last night.

A message notification on the screen: still left me out to dry, i see how it is :// <3 🍑

Whether to reply or leave it on read is a personal decision.

#twice smut #dahyun smut #twice dahyun smut #kpop smut #kpop x male reader #dahyun #kim dahyun

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