#these two are going to make me cry so much | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

curseluvr · 1 day ago

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HONEYMOONERS ♡

Devotion consummated—how they cherish and claim you once the ring is on your finger.

ft. satoru, suguru, kento, toji, sukuna, choso

wc: 4.8k (i didn't mean to yap so much)

content: fem!reader, p in v sex, unprotected intercourse, est. relationships/marriage, possessiveness, praise kink, light bondage & restraint (sukuna), oral, creampies/breeding kink, pregnancy mentions, some emotional sex (crying, reverent language), overstimulation, marking, semi-public sex (gojo, nanami), gojo eats you out on a jet ski, mild voyeurism/exhibitionism (gojo, sukuna), just men in love

SATORU

Satoru doesn’t even bother to say good morning. Instead, he rolls over, pushes your robe open, and hums against your skin, “How many times can I make my wife cum before breakfast?”

It’s not even a question, it’s a challenge. He acts like you have all the time in the world, because you do. Satoru insisted on a month-long honeymoon. Thirty indulgent, jet-setting, skin-worshipping days where the world slows down and everything bends around his touch.

Week One: Maldives

It starts in an overwater villa with glass floors and no neighbors in sight. The sheets barely stay dry, the windows never stay closed, and Satoru’s face is basically glued between your thighs. He eats you out like it’s his first meal of the day and you’re also dessert.

Always slow at first—kissing down your inner thighs, teasing your folds, whispering, “You sound so cute like this,” whenever you whimper for more.

Satoru doesn’t even touch himself most mornings. He just grinds his hard cock into the mattress while he makes you cum again and again, like edging himself for you is his favorite act of worship.

“One more, sweetheart. Look at me when you let go, mhm, there she is. That’s my wife.”

By the time you’re finally eating breakfast—sore, glowing, and satisfied—he’s already planning round two.

He eats you out from the back on a jet ski while you’re in the middle of the ocean. The salt spray mixes with your slick, and he comes in his swim trunks without even touching himself because you sobbed his name so sweetly.

Satoru takes you to a private island and fucks you against a palm tree while the tide rolls in.

“Told you I’d give you the world,” he whispers, biting your neck, “but it’s not enough. I need the world to see you’re mine.”

Week Two: Amalfi Coast

In Italy, Satoru doesn’t let you wear any of the underwear you packed.

“No need,” he insists, slipping his hand between your thighs at dinner like you’re just a toy for him to play with. And you are. His favorite toy, his one and only.

You ride him on the balcony of your hotel as the sunset casts a golden halo around your silhouettes. The Mediterranean breeze is warm, and he’s got your sundress bunched around your waist while Satoru leans back like he doesn’t have a care in the world.

“Come on, baby. Let ‘em hear how good I fuck you. You married a god, remember?”

You do almost get caught. An elderly couple walking by glances up, and Gojo just tilts his head, grinning lazily as your pace stutters. He slaps your ass to keep you moving. “Shy now? Thought you liked putting on a show.”

The whiniest moans spill out of your mouth when you cum, body quaking with pleasure as Satoru smiles.

Later, he buys you gelato with the same fingers he fucked you with. Still sticky. Still smug. He licks the melting treat off your lips and says, “Sweet, but not as sweet as you taste when you cum for me.”

Week Three: Dubrovnik

You walk the city hand in hand. He’s smiling, chatting with locals, but his sunglasses hide the way his eyes stay on you—obsessed. Starving. The same man who bought the plane tickets mid-orgasm because you moaned that you’d never been to Croatia before.

In the mornings, he kisses your ring finger like it’s sacred. At night, he spoons you on satin sheets and plays with your pussy like he’s drunk off it.

Says things like, “I could live in this moment forever. You and me, just like this. You’d let me ruin you every night, wouldn’t you, baby? It’s what you signed up for.”

Sometimes it’s slow. Reverent. Sometimes he’s unhinged—pushing your face into the hotel balcony railing and fucking you like he owns you.

You try to protest, and he just laughs, “Shouldn’t have said ‘I do’ if you couldn’t handle the strongest.”

Before he comes, he pulls out and brings you to your knees. Satoru lets his cum paint your face, moaning how pretty you are, all for him.

Week Four: Macau

A high-rise suite, blackout curtains, and mirrors on the ceiling—because Satoru insisted. You stay in all day and only go out to enjoy the nightlife.

These days are more intense. Less playful. There’s a fever in his touch, a new kind of obsession brewing under the luxury. He fucks you with your legs thrown over his shoulders, watching your face contort in the mirror above. Presses a hand to your lower stomach and groans when he feels himself through you.

“Would ya look at that. So deep in this pussy that was made for me.”

He ties your hands with silk and takes his time. Sometimes, you ride him with a hand around his neck, watching his pretty blue eyes gloss over. There’s one night he lends you his blindfold and teases you all night. Touch and go, kiss and retreat, until you’re crying from how badly you need him.

He coos, kissing your tears away, “I just love how much you need me. Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere. Ever.”

By the end of most nights, all you can say is “Toru!” and “I love you.”

And he always finishes inside. Always. Satoru never fails to hold you after, whispering, “I love every part of you. All I am is yours.”

By the end of the month, your body aches in the best ways. Your skin’s tanned, your throat sore from laughter and moaning, and your heart is full.

Satoru tucks you under his arm on the flight home and tells you, “If we don’t find out you’re pregnant soon, we’re going on another honeymoon.”

You laugh against his chest, legs stretched across the plush leather seat, cozy in one of his hoodies. “I think you just like an excuse to keep me locked away.”

“Bingo,” he murmurs, lips brushing your temple. “You’re so smart, baby. That’s why you’re my wife.”

He’s so warm. So calm. But there’s a shift in his voice, low and coaxing, and you know that tone—it always means he’s about to do something. His hand slides up your bare thigh, pushing your hoodie higher, knuckles grazing your inner skin like he’s testing just how much you’ll let him get away with.

“Satoru,” you murmur, quiet, warning, a little breathless already. “There’s a pilot—”

“Who knows not to disturb me,” he cuts you off, grinning as he kisses down your jaw. “And a privacy button.” He presses something on the side of the seat. The glass partition between the cockpit and the cabin begins to slide up.

“Oh my God.”

“Oh my husband,” he corrects smugly, slipping between your legs as he kisses you. “C’mon, baby. We didn’t break in the plane yet.”

You’re already melting by the time he tugs your panties aside, fingers teasing your folds. The low hum of the engines masks your gasp as he rubs slow circles over your clit, thumb firm, knowing. He watches your face like it’s his favorite movie, lips parted when he sinks two fingers inside you.

“You’re so wet,” he groans, fucking you slow with his fingers. “Is this ‘cause I said I’d get you pregnant? Or ‘cause you love my plane?”

“Shut up—”

He pulls back just enough to yank your panties down and get his cock out, already hard from the way you moan into his mouth. He flips you into his lap like you weigh nothing, settling you on top of him with your knees straddling the leather.

Your body sinks onto his with ease, and both of you groan at the feeling—tight, full, hot.

“Oh fuck,” he hisses into your neck. “You’re squeezing me so good. God, I missed this. Missed you.”

“We just fucked yesterday-”

“Still not enough,” he breathes, thrusting up into you with slow, decadent strokes. “Never is.”

His grip tightens on your hips, grounding you as he moves. The cabin lights are low, the sky outside an endless blur, and you’re bouncing in his lap with your hoodie still on and nothing else. His hands push it up to see your chest, and he latches his mouth onto your nipple, groaning against your skin.

“You’re gonna get me pregnant right now, on this stupid plane,” you pant, forehead pressed to his.

“Damn right I am,” he growls, kissing you again, his pace getting rougher. “My baby—our baby, fuck. I want that. I want you.”

You come with a desperate cry, gripping his shoulders as your whole body locks up, then shudders. Gojo doesn’t stop—he never does—fucking you through it until he’s right there with you, choking on a moan as gives you all his cum.

After, he holds you in his lap, still inside you, stroking your back and pressing kisses to your shoulder.

“Think it worked?” he mumbles against your skin.

“I think you’re crazy.”

“Let’s call it obsessed.”

You’re too blissed out to answer. Eyes heavy, body boneless, you drift off right there in his arms, lulled by the hum of the jet and the warmth of him around you.

Later, you’ll wake to find he’s buckled you into the seat, blanket tucked around you, and his hand on your belly like he’s already claiming it.

SUGURU

The destination was decided the moment he proposed—Bali. A peaceful escape carved into jungle hills, rice terraces, and the low hum of nature. Suguru secures a private villa with an infinity pool and open-air living space, where the warm breeze slips through sheer curtains and time seems to slow just for the two of you.

Every morning, he wakes you with soft kisses along your shoulder and collarbone before handing you a tray of fresh fruit and warm tea. He lets you eat in bed, sprawled beneath linen sheets, your legs tangled, the birds singing just outside. It’s a rhythm he could live in forever.

You walk barefoot through ancient temple grounds, explore artisan markets hand-in-hand, pausing to buy incense or admire a painter stroking the sea into canvas. He takes you to museums tucked behind hidden sanctuaries, and you spend lazy hours in quiet cafés, reading and people-watching in shared silence.

At night, you stroll dimly-lit paths lined with shrines and lanterns, his hand wrapped securely around yours. Then he brings you home to candlelit baths filled with flower petals. He sinks in behind you, warm water lapping at your skin as he kisses the back of your neck and hums something soft into your ear.

Suguru treats the honeymoon like a sacred ritual—a spiritual bond renewed night after night. Every touch deliberate, every glance a promise. At every opportunity, he worships your body like a temple.

He spends hours between your thighs, murmuring praises into your skin, taking his time until your voice breaks from moaning. His eyes stay locked to yours, even when your head tries to loll back—he catches your chin, kisses your temple, and whispers, “Eyes on me. Say it. You’re mine, wife.”

And when you do? He groans like he’s praying.

Some nights he undresses you like it’s holy. Like baring your skin is an act of devotion. He kisses every inch from your ankles to your knees and ribs until you’re flushed and trembling, body arching off the bed, mind going soft.

When he moves over you, it’s not just physical. It’s weight. His presence sinks into you like gravity. Suguru’s hands roam but never rush. He cups your jaw and makes you look at him as he slides his fingers between your thighs, working slow, steady circles over your clit.

“Forever, right?” he asks, even though he already knows.

It’s the easiest confession you’ve ever made. “Yours, Suguru. Always.”

And he leans in to kiss you—deep, sweet, all tongue and soft groans—before lining himself up and pressing into you with intention. Slowly. Like he’s trying to memorize the shape of you around him.

He doesn’t move right away. Just stays there, buried to the hilt, forehead pressed to yours, breath hot on your lips. You clench around him and his eyes flutter shut.

“Fuck… you’re so warm like this. Let me stay, just for a second.”

Then he starts to move. Deep, rolling thrusts that steals the air from your lungs. His body never leaves yours, his hands never let go. He laces your fingers with his beside your head, and when your wedding rings touch, they catch the lantern light and gleam like another promise.

Suguru fucks you like it’s a vow. Like he’s carving your name into every part of himself. When you cry out, his pace falters—not from hesitation, but awe. He kisses the tears before they fall. Cups your cheek as your back arches and you come around him, full and aching and utterly undone.

Only then does he let go. His thrusts grow erratic, voice breaking on your name as he fills you, sweat slicking the space where your skin meets his. Even afterward, he doesn’t leave you. Just stays inside you, arms wrapped tight around your waist, breath warm against your neck like he’s afraid this could end.

With your legs tangled and your bodies warm, all he says is “don’t fall asleep yet. I’m not done loving you.”

KENTO

Kento goes all out with his honeymoon, as he does with everything involving you. Your honeymoon is a blend of both your dreams and his—an elegant, slow-moving escape across three countries that feel like a glimpse of the life he’s always wanted to give you.

It begins in Switzerland, your shared dream destination. You stay in a chalet nestled in the Alps, snow dusting the windows while a fire crackles beside you. Most evenings are spent curled up under thick wool blankets, sipping wine while he reads aloud from an antique book he found in a tucked-away shop.

Kento keeps you close, fingers intertwined, murmuring, “This is how life should always be.”

You take day trips to Lake Geneva, boarding private boats that glide across the still, glassy water, the mountains rising around you like ancient guardians. One morning, you ask, half-teasing, why he even rented the boat when neither of you has any experience. Kento quietly admits he got a boating license months in advance.

And that’s how you end up riding him under the Swiss sun, legs shaking as he grips your hips from beneath. He’s still wearing his captain’s hat. You try to laugh, but his cock is so deep and steady that all you can do is moan as he holds you flush against him.

“Keep your balance, sweetheart,” he says, breath ragged, voice low against your ear. “If you fall, I’ll follow you in and fuck you stupid right here in open water.”

Then comes the Côte d’Azur, France—your pick. A glamorous, sun-drenched stretch of paradise. You stroll Nice’s Promenade des Anglais at sunset, heels in your hand, his jacket draped over your shoulders. In Saint-Tropez, he watches you glow beneath the harbor lights, mingling with people as if you were born for it. And you were.

He books five-star hotels, treats you to Michelin-star meals, but he’s never more satisfied than when your eyes sparkle across a candlelit table and you call him husband. That word, husband, undoes him every time.

And later, when he has you pinned against the glass window of your hotel suite, overlooking the Riviera, it’s the only word you can remember—gasping it into the crook of his neck as he rocks into you, slow and deep.

“Say it again,” he whispers. “Say it until you forget everything else.”

Finally, you land in Kuantan, Malaysia, Kento’s dream vacation. No itinerary, no pressure. Just quiet mornings and indulgent nights. He lets you sleep in every day, but the second you stir, he’s on you—kissing your neck, sliding his hand between your thighs, waking you up with slow, sleepy thrusts until your fingers are tangled in his hair and you’re breathlessly grinding back.

“I need you like this,” Kento groans, “every morning for the rest of my life.”

At night, he runs you a bath and massages your shoulders while you sit on his lap, water sloshing out of the tub as you sink down on him. You moan into his mouth, and he exhales like it’s a relief, whispering your name like a vow.

But when he takes you to bed—that’s when he falls apart.

Kento lays you out like you’re something sacred. Kisses your stomach, your inner thighs, the backs of your knees. His hands never stop moving, brushing over your skin like he’s memorizing every inch. He goes down on you with slow, thorough focus, eyes never leaving your face as you fall apart.

He holds your hips down when you squirm, murmuring, “Look at you. So beautiful… made to be mine.”

And then, when you’re breathless—wrecked—he presses into you with reverent force. One hand grips the headboard; the other anchors your thigh open. He fucks you slowly, deliberately, until your eyes are glassy and your voice is gone.

“Be still,” he murmurs, voice ragged with restraint. “Let me take care of you.”

But then you call him husband again, and the dam breaks. His rhythm shifts—rough, deep, urgent. His control slips with every thrust, every gasp, every whimper you make.

“So pretty like this,” he groans into your neck. “Mine. My wife. Don’t you dare forget it.”

Your honeymoon isn’t just a trip. It’s the beginning of a life where Kento, after years of restraint and duty, finally chooses joy and pleasure. And he chooses to pursue it with you.

TOJI

Three marriages later, Toji still doesn’t understand the concept of a honeymoon. What he does get is this: a week off the grid, your thighs spread across his lap, the adrenaline of almost dying on a hike, and your throat stuffed full by nightfall. So naturally, he books a wild trip to New Zealand, filled with rugged trails, volcanic springs, and as little clothing as possible. But by the end of the week? He sees the appeal.

The second you check into the room, he’s got you pinned. Your luggage is thrown around haphazardly as Toji latches onto your neck.

“Been waiting all day to fuck my wife,” he growls.

You swear he’s trying to breed you every time. His hands on your hips, his voice low and growling, “Gonna keep it in this time. Want you round and full, just like that.”

And everytime, you take it.

Day 1: You’re constantly on the move: Hell’s Gate, Rotorua. Steaming sulfur pools, mud baths, hikes through volcanic terrain that make your thighs burn. Toji’s behind you the whole time, watching the way your ass bounces with each step, palms itching like he's desperate for a handful.

That night, you're soaking together in a geothermal spring, steam curling around your shoulders like fog.

His voice cuts through it, low and smug. “Bet no one’s ever fucked you in a place like this.”

And then he proves it. He’s got you bent over a slippery rock, the mineral water scalding around your calves and his cock even hotter inside you. One hand on your hip, the other covering your mouth when you whimper his name. His wedding ring flashes in the moonlight, pressed to your skin.

“Don’t run from it, sweetheart. You married this. You married me.”

Day 3: You're mid-way through a remote hiking trail, stopping for water when a passing guide gives you one too many glances. Toji notices. He always notices.

His arm snakes around your waist, pulling you in close. He doesn’t say anything—just stares the guy down until he stumbles off, red-faced and muttering.

Later, when you ask him if he’s jealous, Toji just scoffs. “Jealous? Nah. I just don’t like when people don't realize you’re fuckin’ mine.”

He ruins you in your cramped little camping tent, the zipper barely holding back your cries. He’s got your knees pressed to your chest, his body heavy over yours, fucking into you like he wants to brand the memory into your bones. You fall asleep sore all over, pinned under the weight of his chest.

Day 5: The ATV tour was your idea. Toji speeds through the jungle paths with a devilish grin. You’re screaming and laughing behind him, clinging to his waist while he yells back:

“Don’t fall off, wife. I’m not pulling over!”

You don’t fall, but your composure does. Later, you’re in the backseat of the rental car, thighs sticky with sweat, your pulse still racing. He’s sprawled out like a king—shirtless, cock heavy on his thigh—when you climb over and drop to your knees.

You’re slobbering all over him. Lips messy. Hands trembling. Spit sliding down to his balls. He groans, fingers in your hair, watching you with the kind of reverence that makes your gut twist.

“So fuckin’ good,” he pants. “What’d I do to deserve this?”

You pull off with a smirk, a string of drool clinging between your lips and his cock. Voice sweet, lethal.

“You took my last name.”

It wrecks him. You feel it in the twitch of his cock, the way his jaw flexes, the almost-growl he lets out as he yanks you back onto him—throat first, this time deeper, filthier, until you’re choking on his praise.

The rest of the trip is a blur of tangled limbs, high altitudes, low moans in high places. He fucks you in waterfalls. In a cave. On top of a cliff. Sometimes slow, mostly not. He’s rough, reverent, and definitely addicted.

And when the week’s finally winding down—your lips puffy, your thighs bruised, your whole body humming with the aftermath—he tugs you into his lap, zips his hoodie around your naked frame, and presses a kiss to your jaw.

“Next honeymoon, we’re doing Antarctica,” he mutters. “I wanna see you ride me in the snow.”

You blink at him, dazed. “That’s—oh!—not how honeymoons work…”

To which he just grins, sharp and smug. “Yeah? Well good thing this marriage will.”

SUKUNA

He chooses somewhere ancient. Alive. A place with heat in the air and thrumming under your skin. It’s sensual without trying—like him. There’s a sprawling riad with carved archways and silk-canopied beds, and he books the entire place out so you won’t be disturbed.

The bed is a California king, but you never sleep apart. You’re wrapped around each other every night—his hand gripping your thigh, your face pressed to his chest.He likes the size for two reasons: so he can toss you around and still have room to avoid the stains you two leave behind.

Silk robes. Hand-fed fruit. Gold jewelry he bought for you but only puts on himself. He refuses to let you carry your own bags—growls if you even try. And he inspects every outfit you pack, every hem and button.

“You don’t wear anything unless I’ve seen how fast I can take it off you.”

He lets you be looked at. Adored. Worshipped by strangers, because they’ll never touch. He wants you seen—because they’ll never know what it’s like to hear you beg.

And whenever you get back to your room, he fucks you like it’s a rite. Not just sex—a ritual. A claim. A bond carved again and again into your trembling body.

“I could destroy everything,” he says one night, voice low, “but I’d rather build a world just for you. And set it on fire when I die.”

Sukuna leaves bite marks all over you and bruises on your hips. Smirks down at you, red eyes glowing, like he’s seen your soul and made a home in it.

He fucks you until your voice breaks, until you forget your name and only remember his. Then he makes you ask for more.

“What’s that, wife? Use your words. Or should I teach you again?”

One night, he pulls a collar from his suitcase. Thick leather. Heavy. He buckles it around your neck and drags his thumb over the tag.

“This is how you should look every day. My pretty pet, my wife.”

You cum hard that night—so hard you cry—and he only shushes you, kissing your wet cheeks, licking tears from your skin like it’s nothing.

He makes you beg to cum, then pulls out just to hear you sob. Cruel, yes. But when it’s over? The way he holds you afterward? That’s what ruins you more than anything.

He doesn’t talk much. But his love speaks through the way he kisses the back of your neck. Through the way he threads your fingers together when you sleep. Through the way he watches you like you’re the only thing he didn’t take by force.

And every night ends the same way, his voice against your skin: “Say thank you. Loud enough for the heavens to hear. You’re blessed to be mine.”

CHOSO

Your honeymoon is tucked away in a remote part of Iceland—just the two of you, wrapped in warmth while the world outside glows cold and otherworldly. You stay in a heated glass igloo, skin-to-skin beneath thick blankets, with the Northern Lights dancing above you in ribbons of green and gold. It’s quiet, sacred. Every night feels like a dream suspended in frost.

The first time he sees the aurora borealis reflected in your eyes, Choso cries. Not loudly or in a way he wants you to see. But the tears come anyway, quiet and reverent, as he murmurs, “Nothing compares to this. Not even close.”

The honeymoon is low-key and peaceful. Cuddling by the fire, cooking simple meals together, watching old movies in bed with your fingers tangled. You hold hands in gloves during your long, scenic walks, and he blushes every single time you call him your husband.

He brings his film camera and takes soft, candid photos of you doing nothing—staring out the window, making tea, laughing at something dumb. He thinks you’re the most beautiful like that, unposed and fully his.

But the way you look when you’re sucking his dick like your life depends on it… it’s a close second. It’s late into the night, firelight flickering across the walls, your cheeks flushed from wine and the weight of his gaze. You crawl into his lap without a word, kneel between his legs, and pull his cock out of his sweats like it’s yours to take.

Choso just watches you with hooded eyes and parted lips as you stroke him once, slow, like a tease. Then your mouth is on him, warm and wet, kissing his tip before dragging your lips down his shaft. His breath catches, low in his chest, and he grabs a fistful of your hair as you sink deeper.

You’re filthy with it. Drooling all over him, moaning around his cock, looking up at him with glassy eyes while you choke just to take him further. He lets out a broken groan when you swallow around him, one hand tightening in your hair as the other strokes your jaw.

He doesn’t last long—not with you like this, looking up at him like you’d die happy with him on your tongue. When Choso cums, it’s with a grunt and your name falling from his lips like a prayer. You swallow every drop and then kiss him sweetly, already getting him hard again.

The way Choso makes love is like saying thank you. He’s so gentle at first, overwhelmed by how much he loves you. But the second you moan his name like you need him? Something in him unravels. His mouth gets filthy, and his rhythm deepens. You’ll end up in his lap, bouncing on his cock as he grips your hips and growls about how pretty your wedding dress was, how perfect you looked saying “I do.”

He fucks you all through the night, stroking your thighs every time you cum and shake on his cock. But Choso never stops, like he’s starved for you.

“So good,” you tell him on the brink of tears. “Always so good to me.”

His voice roughens as he holds you down, eyes wild with love and possession.

“Mine. My wife. My everything,” Choso moans. “You don’t get to walk tomorrow.”

“Won’t need to,” you reply.

And you don’t—because he carries you everywhere. Holds you close like he’s never letting go. Both of you know he never intends to.

a/n: interactions are appreciated :') lmk what you thought/if you have any requests! thank you for reading mwah

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evangelicgrl · 2 days ago

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“turbulent passion”

huntr/x & saja boys x idol! reader

you’ve accepted the fact that reaching for the spotlight would never be easy, especially with huntr/x around. but when five seemingly perfect men suddenly came into the picture, it changed your life for the better. alas, you forgot that everything comes with a cost.

warnings: slight yandere undertones from the saja boys? nothing too crazy though, just canon typical violence we already know.

wc: 4,132

you bend down and take deep breaths. the choreography you’re practicing this time around was much more difficult than you’d anticipated. did the choreographer your company hired for this really think you could pull this off?

you scoff at the thought.

no, there’s no time for doubts now.

a distinct sound suddenly echoed in the room you're in. startled, you jump slightly. who in god’s green earth could be messaging you right now in the middle of the night? you sighed, you suppose you could use a break for now. your phone went off again, whoever it was, they’re persistent.

you jog towards the desk in the far end of the room where your phone was sitting all alone. when you grab it, you look at the time first. damn, it’s already this late.

you need to head to bed soon if you don’t want to miss out on the busking event you’re supposed to go to tomorrow morning. it’s not like you wanted to, but your manager got mad at you for being indifferent about it so he basically forced you to go. what difference would it make? you’re certainly cognizant of the fact that your idol career is flopping. to add salt to your wound, you were never popular in the first place as well. you’re considered a “nugu idol” for crying out loud.

your debt to your company was piling up and you don’t know how you’re ever gonna pay them back.

shaking off the negative thoughts that keep creeping into your mind nowadays, you read the spam of messages zoey sent you. that’s right, it’s none other than the zoey of huntr/x herself.

( HOLY CRAP have you heard???! a new season of that show you lovr so much just dropped TONIGHT!!!!!! )

( yoohooooo, you there?? )

( I was wondering if youd like tob brngr watch it with me one of these nights )

( *binge. Sorry im eating and ny fingers are slippery ijbol )

( HELLOOOO i know youre awake rn. answer me!!! )

you chuckled, you could always count on her to be energetic even in the dead of night. despite their popularity, you’re glad they still kept in touch with you. more often than not, you find yourself feeling disappointed when you reminisce about your disqualification from the trainee program you and the huntr/x girls were a part of all those years ago pre-debut. then again, you didn’t have that extraordinary “it” factor celine was looking for so you can’t really fault them for anything.

your shortcomings were simply too obvious.

“woah, watch out, [name]!” zoey’s hand instinctively darted out to grab your waist in time, preventing you from falling on the floor. rumi stood up in alarm, but you held up a hand to stop her. “don’t worry, i’m fine. i just slipped.”

“your eyebags beg to differ.” mira snapped at you. you only sighed in response. zoey let go of you when you stood upright again. “[name], what did i tell you about staying up late again?” rumi’s brows furrowed as she slowly walked up to the two of you. “it seems like we have to knock some sense into them if they want to be stubborn.” mira crossed her arms in her chest, still glaring at you.

“ignore mira, [name]. she’s just worried about you.” zoey dismissively waved a hand at mira’s biting remarks.

“damn right, i am!”

“okay, enough. let’s take a 30 minute break and huddle up,” rumi commanded in a steady tone. she may be carefree and goofy like the other two, but it’s times like this that you take notice of how she was… born to be the leader of huntr/x. you smiled. celine raised her well.

the four of you sat down in a circle on the floor. rumi cleared her throat before speaking up, “lately, it seems like all we ever do is practice and be the best huntr/x we can be, but when was the last time we got out to go try eating in different restaurants and cafés?”

your brows scrunched up in confusion. you thought this was going to be a serious meeting.

“yeah, we haven’t been spending some quality time with our dear [name] right here!” zoey giggled as she swung an arm around your shoulder and pulled you in towards her, patting down your cheek teasingly. “but we are spending time with each other in this dance studio, aren’t we?” you said unsurely.

“nah, that’s totally different.”

“yep.”

“uh-huh.”

“huh?!” you yelled exasperatedly.

“imagine, [name]. this will be the last time we’ll get to spend time with each other as ourselves outside in public! after we debut, we’ll all have to wear disguises day in and day out,” rumi explained to you, her imploring gaze never leaving your face.

“i know you’re giving yourself a hard time lately, but you’re enough in our eyes, okay? we wouldn’t change you for the world,” mira spoke in a gentle and soft tone, with all of her bravado stripped away. you never told any of them about your insecurities, but mira somehow sees right through you, she always has; she can read your emotions like an open book and give you comfort whenever you need it.

they wished they could say more to you, reassure you that being a part of huntr/x was never going to be for you seeing as you're not a hunter like them. you're just... a human.

“that’s right, so… who wants to go to this underrated cat café I found out about yesterday?!” zoey instantly broke the somber mood, showing off a screenshot of a cute cat logo on her phone screen.

“me!” the three of you simultaneously cheered with zoey joining in shortly after.

looking back now, you’re grateful they always try to promote your new songs and new episodes of the many variety shows you were featured in even though it never really goes anywhere. their fans are too fixated on huntr/x, they don’t have any more room left nor love to give to another idol. in their eyes, rumi, mira, and zoey were enough.

you finally typed a reply to zoey.

( Yes i’m awake. Sorry, just practicing my new choreo lol )

not even two minutes pass by when zoey already replied back.

( bro what??? this late?? you need to take a break or something )

your eyes darkened.

You: ( can’t. my manager will be mad if he finds out i’m slacking off. I’m gonna attend a busking event at Seoul tomorrow morning )

Zoey: ( REALLY?? awwww i wish we could watch… but since a Certain Someone pushed our golden release early, we just started our promotions a few days ago! )

You: ( Lmao im guessing it was rumi?? anyway, its fine! good luck with the promotions! )

Zoey: ( girl yes ughhhh good luck to you too, babe!! LMK when youre up for that binge watch sesh once we wrap up our promotions though. dont thibk i forgot! <3 )

you smiled. the fact that you’re a nobody and they’re korea’s beloved girl group now doesn’t change the bond that blossomed between the four of you when you were just trainees, back when you were naive enough to believe you could make an impact on the cruel world that is the k-pop industry.

zoey was right, you did need a break, but the crippling disappointment and shame you’ll feel after it won’t be worth it. you think you don’t deserve one unless you work harder to impress your manager and subsequently, your company who invested in your talents.

the weather wasn’t doing you any favors while you withstand the heat. was it ever this hot in seoul?

you murmured complaints under your breath as you fanned yourself with both of your hands. when the speaker of the event mentioned your stage name, you snapped out of your reverie and stepped up to the stage. the very few fans you currently have cheered you on while the rest stared at you with silent scrutiny; you cringed inwardly at that.

all things considered, you thought you were doing a pretty good job with your performance. there weren’t any slip-ups nor mistakes on your part. it’s only when you spotted huntr/x among the crowd while they’re in disguise that messed everything up.

your eyes widened.

you missed a key point of your choreography, pulling you out of your groove altogether. your heart beats erratically in your chest and you gasp for air, already feeling an incoming panic attack. before you know it, you were ushered out by the organizers when the crowd started booing you.

when you stepped down from the stage, the three of them grabbed you and dragged you to a nearby alleyway.

“hey, hey [name]! are you alright?” the first one to speak up was rumi, her worried gaze flitting over to your face while she pats you down, feeling for any sort of injuries you might have. you nodded wordlessly. “that was rough, it was a relief the organizers pulled you out before the situation escalated.” you know mira never wants to lie to you, but her blunt remarks sometimes hurt you more than they should.

“yeah… do you want to go to a nearby café and cool off? not a lot of people are around today, that’s how we managed to sneak out.” zoey smiled unsurely. when rumi let go of you, zoey instantly grabbed your hands and brought them closer to her chest, an attempt to ground you to reality and focus on her.

“sure, that would be nice,” you finally replied. zoey beamed at you as she linked arms with you, rumi and mira walking closely in tow.

unbeknownst to the four of you, five pairs of glowing yellow eyes were intently observing you in the dark.

“found your number one weakness.” a certain raven-haired demon chuckled darkly.

“zoey told me the three of you weren’t gonna come and watch?” now that you’ve ordered your respective drinks, you managed to calm yourself down for a proper conversation with them. “well, about that… i wasn’t lying! but we really wanted to watch you so we begged for bobby to let us go this once and fortunately, he did!” zoey clapped cheerfully while the other two smiled and nodded in confirmation, looking proud of themselves.

they were lucky they have a kind and loving man like bobby around; managers like him are hard to find.

the thought was bittersweet.

“your singing has improved a lot, [name]. your tone is much more prominent,” rumi complimented you, a shy smile making its way on her face as she starts to blush. “yeah, your choreo’s getting hotter too. i like it,” mira chimed in, smirking as she sends a cheeky wink your way. “and your expressions! they’re bright and cute!” zoey piled on more compliments.

your face started heating up, compliments from them—from huntr/x—always leave you feeling overwhelmed.

“aw, come on guys. i still have more room for improvement!”

“right, but so do we, you know?” rumi mused. she squeezes your shoulder, the comforting weight making you feel less tense. you nodded and smiled at her in appreciation. the four of you continued to catch up with each other’s lives, work stressors, and other mundane things. you even managed to rope rumi and mira into your binge watch session with zoey.

when mira looked at the clock on the café’s walls, her eyes widened in surprise. “shit, it’s already evening. bobby might get worried if we come later than we promised.”

“oh my god, you’re right! time flew so fast, i didn’t even notice!” zoey exclaimed, hands flying up to her face.

“it was fun hanging out with you today, [name].” rumi wrapped her hands around you in a bear hug, zoey squealed and joined in. “yes! i’m soooo gonna miss this once we start going all in on our promotions!” when the two let go of you, mira walks up to you. she grabs your waist and plants a brief kiss on your forehead. “call us whenever you need anything, ‘kay?” you blushed from the bold intimate action.

“will do! goodbye huntr/x, knock ‘em out dead!” with a teasing smile on your lips, you joked. the three of them laughed, waving goodbye to you before they finally left the café. your smile dropped and you sighed as you sat down on the plush cushion of your seat. you were just about to start packing up your things when suddenly, your phone started blowing up with hundreds of notifications.

what the fuck?

you instantly pulled it out of your bag, clammy hands unlocking the lockscreen. you opened all of your social media accounts, looking for the main source of these notifications, and once you found it, you were aghast.

a member of the saja boys—romance—posted a clip of your performance today at the busking event on his official account.

( I adoreee the way they dance, and they’re gorgeous up there on stage! The Saja Boys would personally love to meet this gem for a potential collab♡♡ )

the comments were flooded with mentions of your official social handles, both your fans and non-fans alike agreeing with romance and complimenting your dancing skills. your jaw dropped.

what the fuck?

you didn’t even know the saja boys were watching you. you thought you’ve had enough heart attacks for today, but fate had other plans. while you were busy having an internal crisis over the fact that you’re going viral right now because of the saja boys, one of them sent you a personal message on social media.

( hey, i watched your performance today. and i think you’re an excellent performer ^__^ are you up for some dancing and possibly a collab with us? if you are, meet us at club icarus tomorrow @ 12am. we’ll be there during our free time. )

you gasp out loud. did fucking jinu of the saja boys just invited you out?! oh god, this is too much to handle for your frazzled nerves right now. it’s all coming too fast for your liking; you need a moment to breathe.

what should you do?

no, actually fuck it, what more do you have to lose, anyway?

You: ( oh my god, thank you!! i would LOVE to have a collab with you five omg. i’ll be there sharp!! )

Jinu: ( great! can’t wait to see you, lovely. ♡ )

you grabbed a random pillow from the seat beside you and started screaming into it. just a few hours ago you thought your idol career was gone for good when you messed up at the busking event, but not only did you get to hang out with huntr/x today, the saja boys took notice of you and decided to personally invite you out!

i mean, this has to be a fan’s number one dream come true, right?!

feeling overwhelmed yet elated all at once, you had a hard time trying to sleep peacefully tonight when you got home.

you could smell the sweat and the intoxicating perfume wafting from the people on the dance floor across from you; you didn't expect this club to be packed. fiddling with the angel wings you wore on your back—apparently, it was the dress code for this club—you quietly scanned the room, looking for any sign of the saja boys.

you stopped when you noticed a tuft of hair with a familiar shade of pink behind some dancers. you squinted your eyes to get a closer look until you realize it was one of the members of saja boys; it was abby!

you sprang to action, running towards his general direction while squeezing through the sweaty dancers on the dance floor. when you manage to get out of the throng of people, you spotted the saja boys huddled up together in a quiet corner, talking amongst themselves while they’re away from prying eyes.

you took a deep breath and steeled yourself to face them. when you came into view, they instantly quieted down and turned their heads around. “hi, saja boys, right? i’m [name]!”

“sunbaenim! it’s great to finally meet you!” abby cheered, bounding up towards you to eagerly shake your hand. you were surprised by his sudden enthusiasm, but you returned it with the same fervor nonetheless.

“i’m mystery. nice to meet you, [name],” the member whose lavender hair covers his eyes introduced himself to you with a shy smile.

“romance at your service, dear [name],” the member whose hair has a lighter shade of pink purred, gently grabbing your hand and bringing it close to his lips to kiss it. his intense gaze on you never falters. you gulped. damn, he’s smooth.

“i’m baby, the cutest maknae in korea!” the blue-haired member with a baby face exclaimed in delight. weird, despite his childish looks, there’s a cold glint in his eye that you can’t quite describe; you shrugged it off.

“i’m abby! my abs make all my fans pass out. don’t stare at them too hard or you’ll be the same.” the member you saw from afar introduced himself with a smirk and a flirtatious wink. it’s funny, he kinda reminds you of a cocky golden retriever somehow.

“and i’m the leader, jinu. we’re pleased to be in your presence today, [name]. we can only hope you’ll feel the same,” the leader of the saja boys spoke up last, his innocent smile doesn’t betray the knowing look on his face. of course, you were oblivious to this fact.

“hey, guys! i wasn’t expecting to meet up with you at all, but i’m very honored!” you happily greeted them. you were holding back your inner fan, scared they might think you’re one of those creepy sasaengs they hate so much. they only debuted recently with “soda pop”, and yet they already took korea by storm. the catchy pop song went viral on social media with everyone doing the dance challenge. and honestly? they deserve it. you see great potential in them, so it didn’t take long for you to become a fan of them too.

jinu chuckled. “no need to be uptight, we’re all colleagues here. and we’ve admired you for the longest time now before we debuted, [name].”

“huh? really?” you stuttered, breaking eye contact with jinu, feeling exposed under his gaze. “yes! which was why we were excited to debut, it’s our dream to meet you in person and make music with you.” woah, he was really laying it on thick. and while you still can’t believe the prospect of the saja boys being your fans, all this praise is making you feel dizzy. “thank you, i appreciate that… to be honest, this is all so crazy to me. but i’ll be lying if i say i didn’t want a collab with you too.” you replied with a smile, jinu’s grin grew wider while the other boys cheered in the background.

“awesome! then i suppose we would be seeing each other often starting from now on.”

“that we will!”

spending time with the saja boys in and outside work hours has been a whirlwind of chaos if you put it lightly. you didn’t hate it, it was a nice change of pace in your life; ever since that fateful day, your popularity steadily grew and you gained more fans each day. what was once a pipe dream to you is now becoming reality, and you can’t wait for the day you stand on equal ground with huntr/x.

speaking of, they’ve been distant with you lately. with the vague messages zoey sent you almost two weeks ago, you figure they must be having a fight. whether it was a serious one or not was none of your concern, you didn’t want to pry into their private lives.

“earth to [name]! hellooooo?” baby mockingly knocked on your forehead with a closed fist and a shit-eating grin on his face. you swatted his hand away and playfully rolled your eyes at him. “what is it, baby?”

the blue-haired man sighed. “jinu said you should watch our performance and give us proper feedback about it. i don’t know what the big deal is, but you’re more experienced than us so we trust your word.”

“sure, where is he?”

baby jutted out a thumb to his left, pointing to the door. “jinu and the rest are all there in the living room… they’re waiting for you, so let’s go already!” he whined and clinged to your arm.

“alright, alright… i’ll be there in a few minutes. just let me pack up our stuff here.” you gently threaded your hand through his soft blue locks. baby closed his eyes and leaned into your touch. “fine, but don’t take too long.” he pouts and finally lets go of you.

“oh my god, romance, did you seriously just send a flying kiss to the camera after drinking hot sauce?” you groaned. the man in question laughed, he leaned to your right side and twirled a lock of his light pink hair as he giggled. “mhm, the fans loved it, no?”

“sure, but you still looked ridiculous.”

“hey! don’t be mean!” romance pouted as he gingerly wrapped his arms around you, holding you close. “i can give you a private show if that’s what you’d prefer,” he seductively whispered in your ear.

suddenly, you felt a protective hold on your arm. mystery growled from your left. “stop making them uncomfortable, romance,” mystery warned. romance only rolls his eyes in response.

“what, you jealous?”

“no. hog them all you want, but [name] will have a one-on-one session with me later so they can teach me their new choreography.”

“why, you!”

with a deep sigh, you pinched both of their cheeks at the same time. “that’s enough, what would jinu say when he finds you two all beaten up for nothing? control yourselves.”

“mystery started it!”

“and it’s all because you decided to be a stupid ass.”

“that’s not a valid reason!”

“nuh-uh.”

you closed your eyes and pinched the bridge of your nose. god, when will jinu come home? these two are unbelievably immature.

“let me help you with that, [name]!” abby confidently grabs the heavy cardboard boxes you were struggling to lift, holding them up in his arms with ease as he puffs out his chest with pride, expecting that compliment he oh-so craved from you.

“thanks, abby! you’re very strong. with you moving our equipment to the studio, we’ll be done in no time!” you smiled at him brightly, and he who doesn’t know any better, continues to stare at you in a daze.

“right, so let’s get moving, shall we?” abby snapped out of it when jinu bumped shoulders with him roughly. “hey, what’s the big deal, man?” abby glared at jinu, the former’s blatant hostility and change of attitude not being lost on the latter.

“nothing, man. we’re in a rush, so we need to do this fast.”

“whatever.”

jinu frowned at abby’s flippant response. once the pink-haired man was out of view, jinu sent an apologetic look your way and mouthed “i’m sorry about him” to you. you shook your head and laughed it off, telling him you’re used to the saja boys’ antics by now.

“no, but seriously. thank you for everything you’ve done for us.” in a flash, you suddenly found yourself in jinu’s arms. the boxes he was holding a few moments ago were long forgotten on the ground. you jerked in surprise, startled by the raven-haired man’s heartfelt confession. where did this come from?

his hold on you tightened a little bit more, as if he was scared he’ll lose you any second now if he lets go of you. he couldn’t say it then, but you were someone who has become important to him, to the other saja boys as well. in the beginning, talking to you was only a means to an end—you were simply a pawn in jinu’s plan—the saja boys did not care for your wellbeing one bit, they couldn’t give a rat’s ass if you died in a ditch somewhere.

however, overtime that changed. they now know you’re the one soul they won’t give up to gwi-ma no matter what it takes. they can only hope you’ll come to accept their demonic nature as well once they tell you.

your growing popularity now was all thanks to them and the fans they’ve managed to brainwash into liking you.

really, you should be grateful to them. but no, oh no! don’t worry, they won’t harm a hair on your pretty little head. in fact, once everything goes according to plan and they manage to take over seoul successfully, you’ll be in their grasp for a long, long time without gwi-ma and huntr/x in the picture.

they just have to be patient as they tempt you into sweet salvation.

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sereia4skz · 3 days ago

Note

hey can you please write a fic where chan and reader has a big fight so the other members team up to get mom and dad together again!

oneshot | don't make me choose

pairing: chan x f!reader ft the boys

genre: angst to fluff?

warnings: the boys like to meddle chan and reader's relationship

word count: 1294

masterlist: A-Side (texts) | B-Side (written)

You haven’t been to the dorm in nine days. Nine full days of unanswered texts, missed calls, nine days since the fight.

It wasn’t just yelling, it was the kind of fight that leaves bruises in your chest. The kind that lingers in your muscles, makes you flinch when you hear his voice in your head. It was raw and mean and not like you. Not like him. But that’s what happens when two people bottle too much up for too long.

| “You don’t let me in anymore!”

| “And you expect me to have room when I’m drowning in everyone else’s problems?”

| “So I’m a problem now?”

| “That’s not what I—fuck, I didn’t mean it like that, just… Can you stop making everything about you?”

| “…Okay.”

That last word had gutted him. You saw it in his eyes. You almost stayed. But the door shut too fast behind you.

⋆｡°✩

Now, the boys are caught in the fallout. And they are not handling it well.

“She hasn’t answered any of my texts,” Felix groans, sprawled across Minho’s bed. “I sent a cat meme. With sparkles. It was foolproof.”

“Chan broke her,” Seungmin mutters from the corner.

“I didn’t…” Chan sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I didn’t mean to. I just-”

“You told her she was too much for you,” Minho cuts in sharply, arms crossed. “Don’t sugarcoat it.”

“I didn’t mean her, I meant everything—”

“Doesn’t matter. That’s what you said.”

Jisung flops onto the floor with a dramatic groan. “Can we do the thing again where we make her cookies? Or get a banner? What do girls like when they’re mad?”

“Space,” Hyunjin deadpans.

“Affection,” Jeongin argues.

“A sincere apology,” Seungmin adds with a glare at Chan.

“Booooring,” Jisung moans. “We need drama. A moment.”

“No,” Chan says flatly, rising to leave. “We need her to not feel like shit when she thinks about us. All of us.”

“Then go see her,” Minho says, eyes narrowed. “Or are you gonna let us lose her too?”

That lands somewhere between Chan’s ribs. He walks out without answering.

⋆｡°✩

You see them before you see him. They start showing up more and more, at your door, in your texts, lurking in the grocery store like dramatic theater kids in disguise.

Felix drops off boba with a note that says we miss you in his bubbly handwriting.

Hyunjin sends selfies with your shared playlist playing in the background, carefully avoiding the topic of Chan like it's a sleeping dragon.

Jeongin pretends to need advice on skincare, even though his skin is flawless.

Minho says nothing for three days, then sends a single message: Come over. Or I’m stealing your favorite hoodie forever.

But you don’t go. Because you know Chan will be there.

And as much as you miss them, miss the chaos and warmth and terrible singing, you can’t go back to the dorm without walking into the memory of that fight. Of being told, intentionally or not, that you were too much.

So you stay away. And the boys start breaking rank.

“You can’t punish all of us because you’re mad at him,” Seungmin says on the phone, blunt as ever. “He was wrong, but we didn’t kick you out. You did.”

“I just… needed time,” you say quietly.

“Then take it. But don’t lie to yourself about why you’re alone.”

He hangs up before you can respond.

You stare at your phone long after the screen goes dark.

Meanwhile, the dorm is a mess.

Not physically, it’s clean, eerily so. Chan’s been scrubbing everything down at 3 a.m. like it's therapy. The vacuum is basically a roommate now. But emotionally?

“Hyung, you have to talk to her,” Jisung says, popping a grape into his mouth like he’s not ready to cry. “She’s like… the sun. And the sun doesn’t text back anymore.”

Chan closes his laptop. “I’ve tried. She blocked me.”

“Emotionally, not technically.”

“Both.”

Jisung winces. “Okay, ouch.”

Chan leans back on the couch, staring at the ceiling. “She’s not coming back.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Yes, I do,” he says, voice tired. “I looked her in the eye and told her she was too much. She’s not gonna forget that.”

“She wasn’t too much,” Hyunjin says quietly from the armrest. “You were just tired and scared. And you lashed out.”

“Then I deserve this.”

Minho walks in, tosses a pillow at him. “You do. But we don’t. Fix it.”

⋆｡°✩

So they plan something. A trap, really.

They call it movie night in the group chat. No specifics, just a message from Jeongin that says: “Everyone better be there or I’m deleting our Netflix account.”

You hesitate. But eventually, the part of you that misses them wins. You knock on the dorm door with a bag of chips and your heart in your throat.

Felix opens the door like he’s been waiting by it. He beams. “Hey.”

Your eyes flick behind him. No Chan in sight. Maybe he’s out. Maybe you can do this. Then you step in, see him on the couch: head down, hoodie up, hands clasped like he’s praying or bracing or both.

The silence stretches as everyone watches you freeze.

“I can leave-”

“No,” Minho cuts in. “You came. You’re staying.”

Felix takes your chips and walks off like nothing’s wrong.

You’re gently, firmly guided to a seat between Hyunjin and Seungmin.

The movie starts. Loud. Bright. Something funny. No one laughs. Everyone is pretending this is normal, you try not to look at him, and he’s trying not to look at you.

Eventually, Jeongin ‘accidentally’ knocks over the popcorn. You and Chan reach for the bowl at the same time.

Your hands brush. You freeze. He doesn’t.

“…Can we talk?” he whispers.

⋆｡°✩

The moment the door shuts, the air changes. It’s thick. Unsteady. Chan looks older. Like he hasn’t slept right in a week. He doesn’t smile.

“I don’t want to fight again,” you say first. “So if this is just gonna be another-”

“It’s not,” he says quickly. “I swear. I just… I need to apologize. Not for a second chance. Just for closure. If that’s all I can give you.”

You blink. Slowly.

He looks wrecked.

And sincere.

“Okay.”

He exhales shakily, nods. “I didn’t mean what I said. You were never too much. I was overwhelmed. And scared. And I took it out on the one person who made me feel safe.”

You look away. “You made me feel like a burden.”

“I know,” he says softly. “And I hate myself for that. Because you’re not. You’re everything good. Everything I never thought I could have.”

The tears hit faster than you expect.

“You didn’t even try to stop me from leaving,” you whisper.

“I thought I didn’t deserve to,” he says, voice cracking. “I still don’t.”

You shake your head, covering your mouth.

He steps closer.

“I miss you.”

“Don’t,” you say weakly.

“Not to win you back. Just so you know. I miss you when I wake up. I miss you when the boys laugh and you’re not there. I miss your toothbrush next to mine. Your socks on the floor. Your stupid ringtone. I miss everything.”

You close your eyes, his arms are around you, and you don’t pull away. You cry into his hoodie. He holds you like he’s afraid to break you.

Eventually, you whisper, “I miss you too.”

And he exhales, shaky, relieved. You don’t say you forgive him. But you stay. And that’s enough.

Back in the living room, Jeongin peers toward the kitchen.

“…Do we check on them?”

“Hell no,” Seungmin mutters.

Minho smirks. “Let them.”

“Think they’re back together?” Jisung whispers.

Felix tilts his head, smiling softly. “They will be.”

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793 notes · View notes

twistedrealm1 · 2 days ago

Text

Twisted Wonderland | Housewardens | Crush Tackles Them in a Full-Speed Bear Hug (Non-binary Reader)

|This was requested by [multipleluvers]

||Riddle Rosehearts||Leona Kingscholar||Azul Ashengrotto||Kalim Al-Asim||Vil Schoenheit||Idia Shroud||Malleus Draconia||

════════✦⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊱✦══════════

Riddle Rosehearts

The courtyard is peaceful—too peaceful. Riddle’s reviewing his schedule, a red rose in full bloom by his side, when he hears the thunder of approaching footsteps.

He barely looks up before—bam! You're full-speed barreling into him like a spell gone wrong, launching both of you onto the grass in an explosion of limbs and red-faced fluster. You cling, tight. Arms locked, face buried against his chest, and no sign of letting go.

W-WHA—!! H-HOLD ON—!” Riddle yelps, voice cracking as the two of you topple over like a house of cards. He goes stiff as a board, cheeks flaming scarlet to match his dorm’s color scheme. “I—Y-you can’t just!—That’s hardly proper conduct! W-we’re in public—!”

He’s sputtering. Completely mortified. But his arms do wrap around you eventually—tightly, protectively. You feel his heartbeat racing under your cheek, and the way he stiffens every time you nuzzle closer, trying to burrow into his uniform.

After the first wave of panic crashes, he lets out a breath. His voice softens into something warmer, slightly wobbly. “...You could have warned me. But I suppose I… didn’t dislike it.”

He hides his face in your hair. Don’t mention it later unless you want him to short-circuit.

─────────────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────

Leona Kingscholar

Leona’s lying under his favorite tree. The sun’s warm, the breeze gentle—and his nap is just starting to get good when…

Your war-cry pierces the air, and the ground trembles. You launch yourself at him like you’re about to perform a wrestling finisher. No escape. He’s going down.

—The hell?!” Leona grunts as you crash on top of him. His eyes shoot open, a snarling complaint on his lips—and then he realizes who it is.

“…You seriously tackled me awake,” he groans, voice half-annoyed, half-sleepy-smug. “You got a death wish, herbivore?”

But he doesn’t push you off. Not even close. His arms snake around you, tail flicking lazily as you snuggle into his chest like it’s the comfiest pillow in the world (it is). His scent is warm, sun-baked, and slightly earthy. He lets out a breath against your hair.

“Che… If you wanted cuddles, just say so,” he mutters, brushing his claws gently along your back. “No need to make a scene. ��Tch. You’re lucky I like you.”

He's definitely purring. He’ll deny it.

─────────────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────

Azul ashengrotto

Azul is pacing in the lounge, mid-conversation with Jade about today’s sales numbers, when the doors swing open and you appear—pure chaos on legs, running at him like you’ve got a vendetta and a mission.

He doesn’t even have time to process it before you tackle him to the floor. BOOM. The Lounge goes silent. Shocked customers stare.

ACK—!! H-HELP—JADE?!—” Azul squawks, glasses skewed, hands flailing like a freshly fished octopus as you lock onto him like he’s your emotional support plush.

For about 5 seconds, he looks ready to ascend from embarrassment.

But then… he hears your muffled voice, feels your face pressed against his chest, your arms wound tightly around his torso, trembling ever so slightly.

His panic softens into something quieter. Gentle hands come to rest on your back. He fixes his glasses and clears his throat.

“Ahem. I—I suppose I can allow this. For a limited time,” he murmurs, cheeks pink. “...You startled me. But I’m… flattered you missed me so much.”

Later, he’ll absolutely update his Octavinelle “employee policy” handbook to include an exception clause for hugs from you.

─────────────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────

Kalim Al-Asim

Kalim’s mid-sprint himself—excitedly waving at you from across campus with the kind of joy usually reserved for puppies or theme parks.

You run at him. He runs at you. Neither of you slow down.

It’s a full-speed collision of sunshine and chaos. He lets out the happiest yelp as you tackle him onto the grass, arms around his chest, face smooshed against him like you're trying to absorb the joy via osmosis.

WHOA—!!! HAHA!! That was AWESOME!!” Kalim laughs, wrapping you up like a teddy bear made of gold and sparkles. “You’re amazing!! You missed me that much, huh?!”

He’s squeezing you right back, nose buried in your hair, legs tangled with yours in the grass. He’s not letting go either. People walk past, bewildered, but he waves at them without even thinking.

“You’re so warm… you always smell nice too, y’know?” Kalim says with the same energy one might compliment a rainbow. “We should make this a daily thing! Surprise Tackle Cuddle Time™!”

You’ll be lucky if you’re ever allowed to walk anywhere again without being tackled by Kalim first.

─────────────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────

Vil schoenheit

“Darling! You’re going to wrinkle my outfit—wait—wait—!”

Vil sees you from a distance—the sparkle in your eye, the shift in posture, the way your feet suddenly take off in a breakneck sprint. He opens his mouth to greet you, but before he can even flinch, you slam into him with all the force of a human cannonball, knocking the air right out of him as the two of you hit the ground.

He doesn’t get a chance to complain, because your face is planted in his chest, arms locked around him like a python in love, and you’re not moving. You're not even giving him a chance to breathe, let alone fix his hair.

Vil freezes. Blinks once.

And then—sighs. Not out of annoyance, but something far softer. A hand comes up to smooth over your hair as his voice drops to a whisper only you can hear.

> "You really are too much sometimes, but... Tch. Fine. Five seconds. You get five seconds like this. Maybe ten. Just don’t smudge my contour.*"

─────────────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────

Idia Shroud

“W-WHAT THE—?? SYSTEM ERROR. I’M BEING PATCHED IRL. THIS IS A PHYSICAL RAID—"

Idia is not built for this. You don’t warn him. You don’t even slow down. He sees your outline in his peripheral vision—high-speed, uninterruptible—charging at him like a mini-boss with max strength stats. And before his brain can even run the correct social protocol, you’ve slammed him down like a ragdoll.

He’s flat on his back. Glasses askew. Hair sparking. You’re latched onto him like a koala with clingy DLC, face buried in his chest.

And Idia?

Idia.exe has stopped working.

> “U-uhhh... okay. Cool. Yeah. N-no biggie. This is... f-fine. Totally normal. Happens all the time in romance visual novels—wait no it doesn’t!!”

His hands are awkwardly hovering over your back. His entire body is locked in place, like touching you too fast will trigger a love confession cutscene. But slowly, slowly, his arms wind around you like he's booting up basic affection.exe.

> “...Y-you’re lucky I installed that cuddle patch last night... otherwise I'd be dead IRL right now.”

Under all that panicked rambling, his smile is shaky—but genuine. The tips of his flame-hair glow warmer. And he never once asks you to get off.

─────────────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────

Malleus Draconia

You come running at him with no warning, no hesitation—just pure, unstoppable devotion. Your arms wrap around him tightly, pulling him down to the ground as you bury your face in his chest, refusing to let go.

Malleus is caught utterly off guard. For a moment, his emerald eyes widen—then soften with something so tender it could shatter the coldest ice.

His hands instinctively find their way to your back, cradling you like you’re the most precious, fragile thing in existence. His breath is slow, steady, as he presses his forehead gently against the top of your head.

> “You... you never cease to surprise me,” he murmurs softly, voice low and velvety.

“To be claimed so fiercely, so completely... it is a rare gift, one I will never take for granted.”

His fingers trace small, delicate circles along your spine, grounding both of you in the moment.

> “I have lived through countless ages, seen empires rise and fall—yet none compare to the wonder of this feeling.”

“Being held by you, like this... it makes me believe that even an ancient like me can be whole, can be loved.”

His eyes flutter closed briefly, as if savoring the warmth of your presence—then he exhales, voice dropping to a husky whisper.

> “You are my heart’s sanctuary... my reason to defy the shadows that cling to me.”

“Please... never let go.”

Despite his regal demeanor and legendary power, in this moment he is nothing but yours—vulnerable, unguarded, utterly devoted.

And when you tighten your grip, burying your face even deeper, Malleus leans down to press a soft kiss to the top of your head—an unspoken promise to protect you always.

> “My beloved. My treasure. My everything.”

__________________________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊

┊ ┊⋆ ┊ .

┊ ┊ ⋆˚ ⁭ ⁭ ⁭ ⁭ ⁭ ⁭ ⁭ ⁭ ⁭

✧. ┊ ⁭ ⁭ ⁭ ⁭ ⁭ ⁭ ⁭ ⁭ ⁭

⋆ ★

My Masterlist

Twisted wonderland Masterlist

#twisted wonderland #disney twst #twisted wonderland x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #kalim al asim x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #idia shroud x reader #malleus draconia x reader #twst wonderland #twst

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cinnasite · 2 days ago

Text

performance review

꩜ pairing: ceo!caitlyn kiramman x female reader x coworker!vi

꩜ warnings: explicit content, language

꩜ word count: 986

꩜ synopsis: hr would have a field day with this.

You didn’t expect to lose composure today, not when you walked into Caitlyn Kiramman’s office with quarterly reports in one hand and a schedule packed with meetings in the other. You’d triple-checked your numbers, rehearsed your pitch and timed everything down to the minute. However, the moment Caitlyn closes the door behind you, apparently none of that matters.

You’re bent over her desk, fingers slipping helplessly against the polished surface from how slick they are with sweat. Your knees keep buckling, but Caitlyn’s grip on your wrists is iron-clad, holding you down without fail.

“Such a mess already,” Caitlyn admires from above you, her voice composed but, you notice with a shudder, edged with something much darker. “And we’ve barely begun.”

Behind you, the bane of your existence kneels, palms gripping your ass tight enough to leave bruises. You hear the sharp inhale she takes before her mouth returns to your cunt—tongue hot and relentless. She groans like she missed the taste of you, like it’s been hours instead of minutes since the last time she made you fall apart.

You moan shamelessly, high and pleading.

“V–Vi, shit—”

“She can’t answer you, darling,” Caitlyn chuckles smoothly. Her lips graze your ear as she leans down, breath burning your skin wherever it caresses, “Her mouth’s a bit busy.”

Vi laughs against your pussy, the vibration making your hips involuntarily jerk. She drags her tongue in a slow circle around your clit (just the way you like it), then flattens it and licks you up. Her nails dig deep crescents into your flesh, spreading you open like she owns you.

Gasping, you pant as spit trickles down your chin. It would’ve been embarrassing if it didn’t feel so good. “Please, ngh, I’m gonna—f-fuck—”

“Already?” Caitlyn tsks, a flicker of condescension in her eyes as she takes in the way your back arches. She lets go of your wrists and slides her fingers into your hair, pulling your head back, “You come when I say you can.”

Vi hums in agreement, then sucks your clit into her mouth. Hard. You can’t help the loud cry that slips out like a broken prayer. It’s desperate, unprofessional and everything you know your boss absolutely savours witnessing. Vi’s tongue is fucking obscene, switching between soft teasing licks and firm pressure that makes your thighs tremble.

Caitlyn reaches around and fondles your tit with a pleased groan, pinching your nipple through your bra. “You know, I brought you both into this company for your discipline. Imagine my disappointment when I find you slacking like this. Tch, I expected better.”

“I—I can be good. I promise,” you whimper, breathless under the crushing weight of dizzying pleasure.

“Mm. Jury's still out.”

Vi slides two fingers into you without warning, curling right where you crave it. Your whole body practically convulses. She knows exactly where to press, and she does it ruthlessly.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” Vi nearly growls, desire evident in her dangerous tone. “She’s squeezing the hell outta me, Cupcake.”

“Language,” Caitlyn mutters, but she’s smiling. You can hear it.

The desk creaks beneath you as Vi fucks her fingers into your drooling cunt, her mouth still glued to your clit, your resolve crumbling under the merciless dual assault. Caitlyn’s hand is at your throat now, gentle but commanding.

You’re not sure if it’s the fingers, the tongue or the complete submission, but you’re spiraling.

“I—I can’t—” you whimper, scrambling against the desk for something, anything, to ground you. “O-oh fuck, Cait, I’m—! I’m gonna—oh God—”

“You’ll wait,” she simply drawls, voice low and unforgiving.

Vi doesn’t slow down, itching for Caitlyn's approval.

Pathetic kiss-ass.

If anything, she fingers you harder. Her name tears from your throat, ragged and raw, swallowed by the sterile quiet of Caitlyn’s pristine office.

When Caitlyn finally grants relief—“Now.”—you come with a whine so shattered, you barely recognise it as your own. Vi moans against you, lapping at your fluttering walls like she’s the one being ruined.

You slump forward onto the desk, boneless and shaking. Vi pulls her fingers out slowly, dragging more wetness down your thighs. She kisses the back of your leg, smug as hell. You want to punch the smirk off of her gorgeous face.

Caitlyn straightens your collar with a single practiced hand. Despite the harsh precision of her earlier words, her touch is gentle now, almost reverent—as if she hadn’t just pulled you apart by the seams.

"Good girl."

You lie there for a moment, face against cold glass and skin flushed. Vi’s sitting on the floor like she’s proud of herself, propped up on one arm and grinning at you, “Told you I could get you to scream in her office.”

Caitlyn’s expression doesn’t change as she picks up her phone once it chimes with a notification, your bickering with your coworker morphing into background noise. Her eyes flick across the screen and narrow.

“What?” you ask with reluctance after a few seconds of silence, observing Caitlyn’s uncharacteristically frigid stance.

She turns the device toward you and Vi.

It’s an email.

Subject: “Formal Complaint – Breach of Professional Conduct (Internal Security Footage)” From: HR Department To: Caitlyn Kiramman, CEO Cc: Legal, Board Members Attachment: “Conference Room Camera_12_47PM.MP4”

You and Vi freeze.

Displayed clearly for all to see is the scandalously compromising thumbnail, featuring the two of you in the hallway five days ago—making out like hormonal idiots, seconds before Caitlyn walked by and dragged both of you to an empty conference room for some long-overdue... stress relief.

The humour isn’t lost on you.

Under the email lies a single follow-up:

“Ms. Kiramman, as per company policy, there is a need to address your subordinates engaging in an inappropriate relationship during work hours. Kindly revert with a time and date convenient to you regarding the same.”

Little did they know the only person breaking protocol was the one in charge of it.

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melodiesz · 3 days ago

Note

I really liked the obey me sleeping with them for the first time post you wrote! Can I request the same thing for Satan Solomon and Mammon too? :)

Their first time with you ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

ft: Mammon, Solomon, & Belphegor x gn!reader

Here’s the one with Satan! tysm for the request! ◟( ˃̶͈◡ ˂̶͈ )◞

MAMMON

☆ Mammon acts all high and mighty but I think he's actually pretty inexperienced.

☆ In true mammon fashion he talks cocky but the second he sees you there under him—bare and looking so pretty—his mind goes blank.

☆ He turns to a blushing, stuttering mess and your first time is filled with stumbling and laughter.

☆ Tries to stifle his noises, but after like 10 seconds he can't handle it anymore and lets out pathetic moans and groans of your name into your ear.

☆ Will beg to go a second round after, then a third, then a fourth...the greedy fuck wouldn't stop until you're both crying from overstimulation.

☆ Leaves hickeys all over your neck so he can look at them later and smile proudly at the look on other peoples faces when they see them. He likes knowing that other people can see that you're his.

☆ Would get as deep as possible inside you to rock his hips so his tip grinds against your sweet spot, trying to make you cum again for the nth time as he begs you to "please baby, give me another one."

☆ Do be warned, now that he's got a taste of you, he’s begging you for it multiple times a day. ( ˶°ㅁ°) !!

SOLOMON

⏾ With Solomon, it sort of feels like you're a test subject under his strong gaze.

⏾ He has a calculated expression, hands roaming your body like he owns it. Whenever you make a noise when he touches a certain spot, his expression doesn't change, like he already expected the reaction.

⏾ He knows every spot to make you shake and moan, like you've done this together before.

⏾ He has the kind of expertise only an immortal can, making you cum at least 3 times before he even looks close to hitting his own climax.

⏾ Speaking of, he doesn't care about his own pleasure. He gets off on seeing the reactions and noises he can pull out of you, how many times he can make you cum before you pass out.

"Too much? Come on, you can take it."

⏾ DEFINITELY leaves very clear hickeys on your neck just to piss off the brothers. It works.

⏾ Later he has you fucked out, laying on your back on the bed staring at the ceiling trying to remember how to think, and just smiles and offers you water like he didn't just fuck your soul out.

BELPHEGOR

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 With Belphegor it's a spur of the moment thing. For possibly the first time ever he wakes up before you, and just watches your peaceful sleeping face, which suddenly turns into him getting hard.

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 When you wake up to a deep call of your name, you turn to find him above you, arms braced beside your head and cheeks flushed. "mc... need you.”

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 Fucks you in spooning position, your back against his chest and his face buried in your neck as he gives slow but hard thrusts into you, holding up one of your thighs for better access.

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 His deep morning voice is enough to make you flush, groaning your name into your neck before he moves to kiss at it.

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 His other hand would reach under you to grab your throat, not harshly, but just to feel your pulse under his fingers and know that it was him and his dick so deep inside you that had it quickening.

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 Would pull away for a moment to admire his pact mark on your back, proof of the claim he has on you enough to have him spilling inside you with a shaky moan.

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 When you two are done, he wraps his arms around you and pulls you somehow even closer, falling asleep with his dick still deep inside you.

a/n: I am SO sorry I took so long to write this!! I don't even know if you still want this but I finally have a break from school and work for a bit so I will be trying to write lots! (ᵕ•_•)

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n1daehodefender · 2 days ago

Note

HELLOOO I finished session 3, I want to cry.

Anyway, that’s not why I’m here, I want to ask for a simple but wholesome request for what we have been through: Marriage proposal + wedding! with dae-ho, Thanos and Nam-gyu! Just a headcanon of how they would propose to the reader and how their wedding would go!

Have a good day, evening and night! And keep up the hard work Queen! ❤️

Proposal + wedding hcs!

Pairing: Kang dae-ho, Nam gyu, Thanos (all separately)

Warnings: none, just fluff:)

A/N: i loved writing this sm😭 requests are open keep them coming!! I’ll write at least one per day, if im bored def multiple

Kang dae-ho

How he would propose

Dae Ho spends weeks planning the perfect proposal, wanting it to feel personal rather than flashy. He’s the type to overthink every little detail because he wants it to be just right.

He chooses a place that holds deep meaning to both of you—maybe where you first met, or where you had your first real heart-to-heart conversation.

The proposal isn’t in front of a huge crowd. Dae Ho would prefer something intimate, just the two of you (or at most, a few close friends hiding nearby to celebrate after).

He carries the ring with him for days, waiting for the perfect moment. He almost proposes early a couple of times because he can’t stop staring at you, but he reins himself in because he wants to do it right.

The actual proposal is quiet, emotional, and full of sincerity. His voice might shake slightly when he asks, “Will you marry me?” because the moment means so much to him.

When you say yes, he pulls you into the tightest, warmest hug. He holds onto you for a long time, as if he’s grounding himself in the reality that you chose him.

Later, he admits he was more nervous about proposing than any challenge he’s ever faced.

Wedding hcs!

The wedding has a calm, heartfelt energy. Dae Ho doesn’t care about extravagance—he wants the day to feel genuine, peaceful, and full of love.

He helps plan every detail with you because he wants to make sure it reflects your happiness. He’s thoughtful like that.

The venue is likely outdoors—maybe a garden, small courtyard, or somewhere close to nature. He wants beauty, but not flashiness.

His face softens the moment you appear. He watches you walk down the aisle with so much emotion that his friends (and probably his mom!) tear up seeing how much you mean to him.

His vows are simple, sincere, and full of quiet promises “I’ll protect you. I’ll stand beside you. I’ll always come home to you.”

The whole event feels cozy—small guest list, lots of laughter, lots of warm glances exchanged across the room.

During the reception, Dae Ho sticks close to you. He’s not big on the spotlight, but with you, he’ll dance, toast, and beam with pride.

He insists on helping clean up at the end (even in his wedding suit) because he’s that kind of guy.

Nam Gyu

How he would propose

Nam Gyu is terrified of messing it up—not because he doubts your love, but because he wants the proposal to reflect how much you mean to him.

He practices his speech in front of the mirror (and probably with his dog, if he has one). He wants his words to come out right, but every time he imagines the moment, he gets choked up.

He tries to plan something fancy at first, maybe at a nice restaurant or a rooftop at night—but the more he thinks about it, the more he realizes he just wants it to be real.

In the end, he proposes in a quiet, private moment—maybe during a walk you often take together, or when you’re at home sharing a meal and laughing over something dumb on TV.

His hands are slightly shaky when he pulls out the ring, and his voice is soft but steady: “I don’t need anything else, as long as I have you. Will you marry me?”

When you say yes, he exhales this breath he didn’t even realize he was holding, and immediately hugs you so tightly you can feel how hard his heart is beating.

He’s glowing with happiness for the rest of the day—and keeps staring at your hand like he can’t believe the ring is really there.

Wedding hcs!

Nam Gyu tries to go along with tradition (because he wants to honor your families) but always checks in to make sure it’s what you want.

The ceremony is small to medium-sized, probably at a peaceful place—a quiet temple, a pretty garden, or a scenic outdoor venue with soft lighting.

He’s nervous leading up to it, but the second he sees you? Total awe. His eyes shine, and he definitely tears up—no shame, just pure love on his face.

His vows are soft and a little shaky because he’s so emotional. But they’re beautiful and honest.“Every day, I’ll try my best to deserve you. I’ll be your home, wherever we go.”

The reception is filled with heartfelt speeches that make him blush. He sticks by your side most of the time, always gently checking that you’re okay and enjoying yourself.

First dance? He holds you close, forehead to yours, swaying gently like no one else exists.

Nam Gyu treasures little keepsakes from the wedding—a pressed flower from your bouquet, a ribbon from your dress, the program. He keeps them safe forever.

Thanos (su-bong)

How he would propose

Su Bong doesn’t plan to propose in a traditional way. He probably tells himself he’ll wait for the “perfect time”—but when it comes to you, his emotions always get the better of him.

The proposal ends up happening during a moment where his love for you hits him all at once. Maybe you’re patching him up after a fight, or you’re laughing together during a quiet night in, and it suddenly overwhelms him that you’re his person.

Without much of a grand setup, he just blurts it out—but his voice is firm, sure, and filled with raw emotion:“Marry me. Please. I want you to be mine—officially. Forever.”

He doesn’t get down on one knee in a fancy way—he’s probably holding your hand or your face, looking right into your eyes like the world doesn’t exist beyond you.

The ring? Oh, he put serious thought into that. It’s bold but meaningful—something that symbolizes strength and loyalty, because that’s what your bond means to him.

When you say yes, Su Bong lets out a breath that’s part relief, part joy. He pulls you into his arms and holds you so tightly that you can feel his heartbeat pounding against yours.

Wedding hcs!

The wedding is bold and powerful, just like your relationship. It’s not about showing off, but it definitely has presence. People remember it.

The venue is dramatic: think city rooftop at night with lights, or a grand hall with rich colors—deep red, gold, black.

Su Bong stands at the altar looking like he owns the world, but the second he sees you? His tough exterior cracks. His eyes soften in a way only you’ve ever seen.

His vows aren’t long, but they hit hard. He promises strength, loyalty, and that he’d destroy anything that threatens your happiness.“You’re mine. I’m yours. Always. Nothing will touch you as long as I breathe.”

The ceremony feels electric—there’s this intense energy between you two that everyone can feel.

At the reception, Su Bong isn’t afraid to pull you close, to dance with you like he means it, to show everyone how proud he is to be yours.

He keeps his arm around you most of the night, always ready to steal a kiss or whisper in your ear.

#squid game #squid game 2 #kang dae ho #kang dae ho x reader #squid game x reader #squid game s3 #squid game 3 #thanos x reader #thanos squid game #thanos #nam gyu squid game #nam gyu x reader #nam gyu

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81pastrys · 2 days ago

Text

Unplanned

Part 3 / 5

Summary— Once married they decide to go about life as if they planned this all and end up in Monaco before the birth of their baby.

Warnings— Sensitive reader..? ; pregnancy ; mood swings ish ; birth mentioned but not explicit ; couples bath

A/N— While re reading through I realized I made Carlos seem a bit more mature for like a stupid young adult but then I realized it’s Carlos and that he’s literally driving a death machine.

Series List

Main Masterlist

It was all happening too fast. The least their parents would settle for was being there when they signed the papers. So both sets of parents planned out to be there to witness the marriage. Nothing big, nothing fancy. Two young adults signing a sheet of paper deeming them married, husband and wife.

“You may kiss the bride.” The officiant said. They kissed, but there was no specialty to it, just a show for their parents.

Carlos set out to buy her a dainty ring— per her request— and picked his own band out. She was ridden with morning sickness and didn’t want to leave her flat while sick. It all seemed surreal.

He left the jewelers and went back to her place, ready for the ring to be rejected. Instead he was met with tears of joy and gratitude that he cared enough to even get her one.

The next race was coming up and she had finished school, so he asked her to join him. She agreed but was hesitant. They had talked and talked about anything and everything, getting to know each other. It seemed almost destined that they ended up in this situation but the circumstances that pulled them together was unfortunate.

So far the only argument was on where to live. “I worked to get this place! I won’t just get rid of it like that to move into your rich boy flat in Monaco!” She yelled.

“Cariño, you aren’t listening to me.” He was trying to hold himself back from yelling but he was close to it. “You don’t have to give it up, I’m saying we stay at my apartment in Monaco.” He explained, again.

“Why can’t we just stay here?” She asked. She worked hard to get the apartment she wanted, specifically the area and the intricacies of the floor plan.

“We can stay here right now, but Monaco is closer to all of my friends.” He heard the selfishness as he said it. “It would be easier if we had help a few doors away is all I’m saying.”

“Okay? I have family and friends here too what’s the difference?” She understood his point, but they had the same— if not more— at the location in London.

“We all live in the same apartment building cariño, if we need the help, we’ll have lots of it.” He said. “I trust them all.” He said as if that would sell her completely. She barely even knew him.

“So while I’m pregnant you want to move me out of my apartment and into a foreign town? What happened to keeping me comfortable and taking care of me?” She spat. That hit him. He did say he wanted to take care of her all the while she was pregnant.

“Let’s take a while to think about this, I don’t want you to be stressed.” He said. She went to argue but he stopped her and she sighed angrily. “I know, if we moved to Monaco now that’s stressful, we don’t have to, I just wanted to ask.” He hugged her and she stood still, she didn’t want to argue about where they would live.

She started crying in his arms and he adjusted his hold on her to look at her face. “I’m sorry- I just- the hormones make me emotional and you have a good point but I love this place so much.” He pulled her back in for a hug that she now reciprocated.

“It’s okay cariño, we can come back to it, for now we’ll stay here.” He assured her. “I do want to see the paperwork for it though, you shouldn’t have to worry about the payments.”

“You don’t have to do that.” Her voice cracked. “I have enough saved up I can use.” Yeah. That wasn’t happening. They’re married and he makes enough for her not to have to worry about that. “I don’t want pity money.” With that she began crying harder at the fact she didn’t have enough money to accommodate a baby.

“Cariño, we’re married now, and I want to pay for the apartment.” He said. “It’s not a hold of power I promise.” He has no clue why he said that but it felt right to be said. “Let’s go lay down and take a minute to calm down, hm?” He rubbed her back and she nodded.

When he brought the conversation back to light, it was easier to navigate and explain since he took the time to think it all out strategically instead of spontaneously. She agreed to A. Let him pay the rent and B. That they would stay in Monaco when the baby is born.

She went to the rest of the races for the season, pregnant and all. She actually loved them. Now it was a hassle with media about who she was and how she just came out of nowhere married to Carlos, but he handled it quite well.

“Hey! How are you feeling today?” Max greeted her. “Baby Sainz being nice in there?” He gave her belly a poke and she giggled at him.

“Baby Sainz is being nice today surprisingly.” She said. “Where did Carlos run off to?” She asked, her brows furrowing. It was free practices today so he couldn’t have gone far.

“Meeting I think, his car was acting up on track.” Max said, also confused on Carlos’s whereabouts. “I’m sure he’s in the garage.” Max mentioned. She liked Max, he was a stereotypical 18 year old. New to being his own person and an adult for once. Not that she was far off from his age but hey- he just acted more on the age part of it all.

“Lo siento Mi amor.” (I’m sorry my love) Carlos said out of breath on his way over. “Meetings and car talk.” He smiled and kissed her. He leaned down and gave her belly a kiss as well, cooing to the baby.

“It’s alright, anything good from your car?” She asked. She didn’t really bother to know much more than the dangerous speeds of the car so he didn’t force it on her.

“Yeah, just a tiny issue that can be fixed for tomorrow.” He smiled. They went to the cafeteria and ate food before heading back to the hotel for the night. “Do you want to take a bath, cariño?” He asked when they did end up back.

“Sure, why do you ask?” She was curious, he never really made much effort to go out of his way for her. Well not in private as much as public that is.

“Just feel like we should relax in another way, and that tub is really nice.” He says. She smiles and kisses him. He runs the bath and lit some candles.

“Ohh this is nice mi amor.” She said. He chuckled softly and kissed her. He pulled her in for a hug and felt her shoulders tense and her body lock up a little.

“I feel your tension, amor.” He whispered. “You’re supposed to relax.” She looked up at him with hesitant eyes and he caught the look immediately. “If you aren’t comfortable we don’t have to.”

She mulled it over and agreed to it, her worries still lingering but not as strong as before. “The last time we were naked for this long was months ago, that’s all.” She mumbled. He assured her he wouldn’t do anything she wasn’t comfortable with.

He sat in the water first then helped her sit in front of him, the bubbles covering the top layer of water. The temperature was perfect, not too hot, not too cold. She carefully sat in between his legs comfortably and sighed. Her back against his chest, her head on his shoulder, and his hands lightly moving over her body. He focused on her belly, drawing little shapes and easing her mind.

“Thank you for this.” She said softly after a few minutes of silence. He kissed her temple and hummed in a ‘you’re welcome’ kind of way.

“We have to think of names for La bebe.” He said softly to not disturb the calm air. “If it’s a chiquito, he should be named after me.” He smiled.

“Hmm, okay.” She agreed. “What about if it’s una chiquita?” Her Spanish wasn’t great but she knew a little.

“That’s the hard part, mi amor.” He chuckled lightly. “I like Rosa, or Isabella.” He said questioningly. She thought for a minute before responding.

“Those are nice, what about Aurelia or Adelia or Maya?” She asked. “Aurelia Rosa Vázquez?” She tested the name and it rolled off her tongue.

“Rosa Maya Vázquez?” He tested. “Maya Isabella Vázquez?” He put the names together and she hummed as he did. Until, “Rosa Adelia Vázquez?”

“Rosa Adelia Vázquez.” She hummed. “I love it.” They didn’t know whether it was a boy or girl. She wanted to wait until the birth and what she wanted was what he wanted, so they were kept unaware. “Or if it’s a chiquito, Carlos Sainz Vásquez the third.” She giggled.

“El tercero, amor. Carlos Sainz Vázquez el tercero.” He chuckled with her. He kissed her head and he felt a little kick from her belly. “Ay bebe, deja que Mami se relaje.” (Baby, let Mami relax) He cooed to the unborn baby.

“They probably don’t like it when I laugh, all my muscles squeeze them.” She said laughing. More kicks followed and she was done laughing. “That’s enough little one.” She cooed calmly, running her own hand over her belly.

When she got really close to her due date, they returned to Monaco. Racing ended a few weeks prior so they had enough time to really settle down and not stress over everything.

They had gotten to understand each other more and work around flaws they saw in each other to make the relationship work for the little one, falling in love wasn’t on the agenda but it did happen.

“Time to wake up amor.” Carlos whispered softly to her. She groaned and opened her eyes to see him crouching on her side of the bed, caressing her hair lovingly as he smiled at her.

“Why can’t I just sleep amor?” She groaned. “I’m not due for another week.” He insisted she gain a better sleep schedule and she agreed, only to realize that meant being in bed by 9:30 and waking up at 8:30. She hated it.

“It’s 9, I let you sleep in a little.” He teased. She glared at him and let him help her sit up. “Careful now.” He mumbled. He always helped her when he could. Most race mornings were chaotic and unorganized, but at home they were peaceful and slow.

“Gracias amor, but I’ve got it seriously.” She said, looking up to the tall man as he stood. He gave her a look and he held out his hands. She sighed but did need the help that he provided to get her up from the bed. Only to find out that it was enough to send her into labor.

“Amor? What’s wrong?” He asked when her face fell and she looked down. He thought she just had an accident but by the reaction she had it wasn’t that.

“My water just broke.” She said. No emotion, no tears, just shock. They had a hospital bag packed, a car seat in the car, a nursery too, they just weren’t expecting it to be so soon. They thought they had another week. He scanned her face and then pulled her in for a hug.

“Ok, let’s get you back on the bed for now, I’m going to get everything ready for the hospital.” He said a bit frantic and panicky. He did as he said, bringing the hospital bag to the car, starting the car, then returning to his wife in labor. “Everything is ready, did you want to change before we leave amor?”

He didn’t realize right away that when he left she started crying. She looked up at him with scared eyes. She nodded and he got her new pajamas, the soft ones she liked most. He helped her get changed and then just held her for a minute.

“Everything will be alright, you’re okay amor.” He whispered. “Let’s get you to the hospital and situated sí?” She nodded again, now calmed down enough.

They make it to the hospital and she gets put in a room for labor and delivery. The nurses were super sweet and amazing. She got situated in the room and Carlos stayed by her side the entire time.

Once everything was said and done, they had time to just relax. Rosa was born with a full head of his dark hair and her beautiful hazel eyes. At the moment Carlos is holding her tiny body to his bare chest and his wife is sound asleep on the hospital bed.

“Mi corazon, mírate.” (My love, look at you.) Carlos cooed to the little one. His attention was moved to his wife who stirred on the bed. “Mami se despertó, eh?” (Mommy woke up huh?)

She huffed a breath and rolled over, now facing away from him. He hadn’t done anything wrong, she was just severely uncomfortable and seeing him comfortable made her upset. She’s got needles poking out of her, wires connecting to loud machines, the bed is thin and papery, and they won’t give her a heavier blanket. She’s just uncomfortable and wants her own bed back.

Carlos took this all into account on a mental list as she had mentioned all of them and set Rosa in the tub like bed. “Mi amor, what’s the matter?” He asked running a hand through her hair and cooing sweet nothings in her ear.

“I’m uncomfortable.” She mumbled. Carlos tried helping her to move around and she groaned. “I want to go home.” She whined. Carlos looked her in the eye, he couldn’t help but feel for her. She just went through birthing their baby and she can’t get comfortable.

“The doctor said after the tests come back mi amor, not that much longer I promise.” He assured her. As if on cue, a nurse walked in and informed them that they were allowed to be released.

Next will be baby snuggles and cuteness 🥰🥰

@il0vereadingstuff @angelluv16 @pandabiiissh @itznotsophia @justaf1girl @widow-cevans @kallanfiona @angstynasty @san4117 @1dloverrxo @mayax2o07 @celestialend

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salesmancarddd · 1 day ago

Text

Squid game characters x INJURED!Reader

╰┈➤ SPOILERS! some parts includes season 3

✶ Characters: Gi-hun, Nam-gyu, Cho Hyun-ju, Cho Sang-woo, Masked Officer

TW: Toxic-ish relationship (if I missed any tags remind me)

A/N: I'm genuinely speechless after watching season 3, but ngl it was so worth it Ive seen my husband holding a fish on the photo 😭💔 he absolutely looks so stupid

MASTERLIST

GI-HUN

✦ During a games he'll always make sure you're near him in case something goes wrong, he knows you can be on your own but he doesn't let it.

✦ After the failed rebellion, watching his friends die in front of him he was numbed, being chained to bed like a animal for wanting to die, the only relief he got that you're okay (it was a good call he didn't brinf you along with him, but leaving you behind was harder he didn't know if he would see you again)

✦ During a hide and seek, you got a blue team, he wanted you to switch him but you refused being stubborn, the only way he can make sure you're safe is finding you and protecting you, you were the only one he had to keep going

✦ When he wasn't able to find you he started to panic hearing all those screams reminded him of you, in panic he kept running around tyring to find you (this happens after he killed Dae-ho)

✦ In desperation he came across you but someone was attack you in that. moment he didn't even hesitate he immediately pushed him off which other dude was confused on what he was doing

✦ After what happened he realised you were badly injured there's no way for you to even get up and walk

"It's going to be okay" he said that while kept looking at the injury, your eyes were trying not to be in tears but it was hard, he knew that.

in that moment he just picked up and and kept looking for safer place for you to rest untill the game ends

"Just focus on me, alright?" He had you in bride pose while carrying you, he didn't look at you but kept looking ahead, when he found a safer place he put you on the ground, he took off his tracksuit wrapping it around your leg, during this time he didn't talk to much but inside he was panicking.

✦ He definitely felt guilty for not finding you sooner and finding you in this state, you could've died there if he didn't come across you

NAM-GYU

✦ He genuinely didn't care at first when Thanos was alive, you were just fun to them like any person was, having you in group which lead to be made fun mosly Nam-gyu did that.

✦ During a mingle game the team needed to be in two Thanos picked someone else, Nam-gyu just stood there not knowing who to pick, neither did you you accepted your fate, in brief moment he just picked you and dragged you in the room closing the door behind

"What the fuck were you standing there for?" he said in angry tone while trying to mock her, she didn't speak to him back instead she looked a tthe ground.

"Now what are you gonna cry because I yelled?" there was a silence between them before he spoke up again

"Cat got your tongue?" He tilted his head to the side with a smirk on his lips. "Or maybe you're just used to being treated like a doormat." another silence

"Shit you aren't fun" he laughed.

✦ After the game was over he kept he's eyes on you, you didn't even eat when food was given you kept staring it like a doll, your eyes were dollish to him

He couldn't help but smirk at your blank expression. Seeing you like this somehow made him feel in control, like he could do whatever he wanted with you and you won't fight back.

✦ During a hide and seek game he kept looking for you hoping he'll come across you, nobody couldn't kill you untill he decide to

But once he noticed you were wounded and bleeding, he felt a satisfaction but also some type of consern. Of course, he wasn't too sure why he was feeling this way, but that didn't stop him from kneeling in front of you and taking a look at your wounds.

"Found you." He said, his voice a low, menacing tone. He walked towards you slowly, his knife gleaming in the dim lighting. "You didn't think you could hide from me, did you?"

"Nam-gyu.. please.." she spoke Nam-gyu's smirk faded for a moment as he saw the pleading look in your eyes. He stopped in his tracks, his gaze locking with yours.

"Please what?" He asked, his grip on his knife loosening slightly. even in drug influence he stopped and listening just by hearing her say his name, the only person who said his name right.

"Please..please don't.. kill me" her voice sounded so destroyed, tears in her eyes.

Nam-gyu's expression softened ever so slightly, though his gaze remained intense. He took a few breaths before he spoke again. "And why shouldn't I?" He asked, his voice almost a whisper.

"I-.." She was speechless looking at him, fear in her eyes Nam-gyu's eyes narrowed as he watched you struggle to find the words. He could sense the fear in your voice and the way your body was trembling.

He took a step closer to you, his knife still in hand, but his grip on it loosened even more. "Come on, dollface. Say something." He said, his voice taking a slightly more gentle tone but also mockery way.

"please.. help me.." there was a long pause, before she spoke up again "Please Nam-gyu.." Nam-gyu knelt down in front of her, his gaze moving over your body. He noticed the way you were holding yourself, obviously in pain.

He gently reached out, his hand touching your arm. "shit show me where you're hurt, hurry up" he didn't even countine killing other people instead he stayed there and tried to help her.

✦ After that game he started to lose control without drug he couldn't focus or do anything, you tried keeping him calm and speaking to him, which on some part it helped

CHO HYUN-JU

✦ The first time she met you was during red light, green light, when she seen you struggling to stay calm.

✦ After the game was over she she couldn't help but notice you sitting alone, struggling to keep your composure she slowly approaches, her footsteps silent as she takes a seat beside you. For a moment, she simply gazes at you.

"You're quite shaken up."

Her voice is low, but surprisingly soft. She takes in your distressed state, the tension in your shoulders, the way your hands tremble ever so slightly.

"I guess so" she spoke up, Hyun-ju lets the silence linger for a moment before speaking again, her tone even and cautious.

"It's normal to feel on edge after that game. Everyone's just... trying to survive."

✦ After a small talk between you two, you became closer to her, you weren't sure if she even wanted you to be with her, the conversation were awkward.

✦ The spinning platform slowly begins to move, the lights and sounds around them a dizzying blur. The robotic voice announces, "Three."

Hyun-ju's grip on your arm tightens just a fraction, her eyes darting around the room, assessing the other players. When she was able to find one more player to join in that's when she lost you in crowd in panic she kept calling out your name while there was a countdown.

✦ When she found you, your arm was injured apparently someone grabbed your arm while you weren't looking and dragged you

✦ Her protective instincts kick in, and her mind zeroes in on you

Ignoring the ongoing countdown, she quickly rushes to your side, her face etched with concern. "Are you okay?"

She gently tries to move your arm, testing the range of motion.

"The countdown" You spoke up Hyun-ju's head snaps up as the robotic voice announces the countdown, reminding them that the time to reach safety is running out.

Hyun-ju: "Damnit..." in brief moment she picked you up and carried you to safer room

✦ After the game was over she checked your injury trying to help

CHO SANG-WOO

✦ You two didn't talk at all the first time you two met, the only reason you tow know each other existence is because of Gihun

✦ Over time, you and Sangwoo grew distant from each other, but you still occasionally talked. Sangwoo mostly agreed with what you said, as he often shared the same views.

✦ During a glass bridge game he seen you being more nervous it's like you were afraid of the height or dying either way he didn't pay attention to it to much, but he still kept he's eyes on you.

He could tell you were getting nervous even without looking at how your hand was tightly gripping on your shirt, how you were shaking ever so slightly. He sighed quietly, not turning around but talking behind.

"The more you look down, the more your mind spirals in panic." he said in gentle voice

"I'm trying" the panic in her tone

"Take deep breaths. Inhale, hold, and exhale. Focus on my voice, nothing else." he said while jumping on the glass

✦ Time was running out, the countdown nearing the zero mark and Sang-Woo watched as you hastily moved forward. Time seemed to slow down, his eyes locked with yours.

✦ Next, glass was shattered and pieces were flying through the air. Sang-Woo's eyes widened in alarm as a piece of glass made huge scar on your cheek

He approached you hastily, his hand gently hovering over the injure

"Let me see," He said, a bit demanding. His fingers lightly grabbed your chin and turned your head to get a better look at the cut.

"It okay it's not that big deal" she tried to crack a joke with it Sang Woo scoffed

"Not that big of a deal?" He repeated, his grip on your chin slightly tightening. "It's bleeding."

"It's just a little cut, cmon on let's go" Sang-Woo rolled his eyes, irritation starting to brew at your stubborn attitude but let it go

✦ Over some time he seemed to be more over sligly protective over you, he still didn't speak with you that much but he kept he's eyes on you

MASKED OFFICER

✦ When you first time joined it was all eyes on you but not in good way, since you were younger the rest of them you were fully a target to anyone

✦ Masked Officer kept a good eye on you seeing you different then others, you weren't following his rules always which lead to many calls into office giving her warning for her behavior, it was something he got used to it

✦ During the rebellion, you were sent along with other guards to shoot the rioters. In a brief moment, as you were firing, a bullet struck your arm, causing a loud gasp that made you fall to the ground.

✦ As the masked officer watched the cameras on the TV screen, he realized you were likely there as well. In a moment of urgency, he grabbed a Walkie-talkie and called out to you, but there was no response. He then began contacting other nearby guards to assess the situation.

✦ When the guard mentioned how many guards were injured, he paused and then said, "Guard 020." He continued listening intently. In a cold tone, he ordered any guard to bring her to his office. Hesitant, the guard obeyed his order, escorting her there bleeding from her arm, half passed out, half awake. The other gaurd left them alone leaving the room.

"Why the hell were you there!?" he asked, a hint of irritation and concern barely masking his tone. "I told you to stay where you were, and you can't even follow that." He took a sip of whiskey, glancing at you on the ground, then let out a long sigh.

"What am I supposed to do with you?" he said as he approached, kneeling down to her level. His voice was a mix of gentleness and anger. "Let me see your arm." You didn’t speak the entire time, only kept looking at him.

#squid game x reader #squid game x y/n #squid game x reader headcanons #seong gihun #masked officer x reader #nam gyu x reader #squid game season 3 #cho sangwoo x reader #cho hyunju #masked officer #squid game 2

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yoiisa · 1 day ago

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hiii i really loved your bllk boys reacting to you having a nightmare and was wondering if you could make a part 2??? maybe with isagi (i love him sm). only if you want too of course :)

hope you have a wonderful day/night <3

bllk characters reacting to you having a nightmare .𖥔 ݁ ˖

w/ ISAGI YOICHI, SAE ITOSHI, AND KAISER MICHAEL

Tags: TW for depictions of a car crash in Isagi's fic!! slight angst, hurt/comfort, this is part two to this fic i wrote a little bit ago!!

ISAGI YOICHI ⋆˙⟡

It most definitely wasn't a good idea for you to go to bed right after seeing the news about the car accident in downtown Shibuya. To add onto all of this, Isagi hadn't responded to any of your messages, but here you were.

To be fair, you weren't sure if your brain could handle all the stress while you were awake. You figured that you'd be able to cope better with your worries in your dreams.

Yeah, right.

The lights of the famous crossing flicker in your mind, painting the world in technicolor beauty. Isagi's hand is gripped tight in yours as he silently leads you through the city.

"Yoichi, are you okay?" you ask, the sound a bit distorted by your dream. He doesn't respond though, just continues trailing ahead of you with your hands linked. You try a few more times to get his attention, but nothing works.

It isn't until you give up on calling him that you realize the two of you have trailed straight into the middle of the crossing when all the stoplights have the red hand brightly displayed. Horns start honking, and your heart rate increases.

"Yoichi, stop! There are cars coming!" you shout, but once again it falls on deaf ears. You're left with only one choice.

Summoning all your strength, you wrench your arm from his grip and fall back into the crowd just in time to see Isagi get-

No, no, no!

There are a few shouts as people call for ambulances and help, but you can't seem to rip your eyes away from the horrific sight in front of you. There's so much blood. The sounds all around you muddy into the background. Your eyes are blurred as hot tears roll down your cheeks. This can't be happening. This can't be happening!

This is a dream you vaguely recall, but it all feels so real that your brain feels like it's short circuiting. You feel directionless, unsure of what's up and what's down.

"Ma'am, ma'am! [name]! Hey, can you hear me? [name]!"

You gasp as your eyes dart open. You're in your bedroom, with Isagi hovering over you. His blue eyes are wide and terrified as his thumbs stroke your cheeks, wiping away tears.

"It's- woah there!"

You shoot up in bed and hug him desperately, your hands and fingers digging into his shoulders. You sob into his neck, fat and hot tears stubbornly falling from your eyes. You want to stop crying, after all it was just a dream, but you can't. Your body feels like it's buzzing, the terror of your nightmare refusing to ebb. He nuzzles into your neck as his arms wrap around your waist.

"Shh, shh, don't cry," Isagi whispers as he rubs your back. "It's okay, I'm here."

SAE ITOSHI ⋆˙⟡

When the two of you first started living together, you told Sae upfront that you talk in your sleep. Sae seemed slightly annoyed, but it wasn't enough to deter him in any serious way. It'd been around five months since you moved in with him, and he told you that he hadn't heard anything, so that was relieving.

Well, at least until last night.

The night had started out simple enough, with you and Sae going to bed around the same time. What he hadn't anticipated though was the small squeaks that started leaving your mouth later on. They were barely audible at first, but then started growing in urgency and volume.

Sae groggily pushed himself up and checked his phone. 1:32 A.M. He cocked his head over to look at you. Your eye brows were furrowed and your face was red. You looked like you were having trouble breathing. Were you sick? Sae rested a hand on your forehead, but you weren't hot enough for it to be anything worse than a mild cold.

"[name]?" he calls, shaking your shoulder. "Hey, wake up."

"No," you moan, and he quirks his eyebrow. You sound like you're . . . in danger?

"[name], love, hey," he shakes you a more roughly, but you shy away from his grip.

You whimper and Sae feels himself growing more troubled.

"Don't go," you sob and Sae feels his heart shatter. He feels absolutely helpless. You won't wake up, and he doesn't know what to do.

With not much else direction, Sae lays himself over your body, pulling you into his chest. He lays kisses along your shoulder and neck, whispering sweet nothings.

"It's okay," he coos. "I'm here."

Eventually, you fall silent again. The crease in your eyebrow flattens, and your face isn't red anymore. Sae brushes a few strands of hair back from your head and kisses your temple. He gets out of bed and fills a glass of water, setting it on the nightstand after he comes back into the room. He climbs under the sheets again and presses himself against you as he drifts off to sleep himself.

KAISER MICHAEL ⋆˙⟡

Kaiser loves sleeping with you- in both meanings of that phrase. Sex with you is fun, for sure, but there's something special in the non-intimate nights as well. Pulling you into his chest or nuzzling his face into your chest. Every time the two of you fall asleep, Kaiser has to be touching some part of you. So obviously, when you get out bed, he notices within two minutes.

The sheets are cold and Kaiser lifts his head as soon as all his hand meets is blanket. His two-toned hair is messy and his eyes are only half open as he scans the bedroom, trying to find you. He blinks a little and pushes himself out of bed. He opens the door of the bedroom and walks out into the hallway, seeing the light in the kitchen glowing.

"[name]? Are you out there?" he yawns as he pads sleepily down the hallway.

"Hmm? Oh, yeah, I just wanted some water," you call back.

Kaiser stops at the entrance to the kitchen, leaning against the wall. He watches you with hooded eyes as you gulp down the rest of your drink. You rinse the glass and set it in the dish rack before walking over to him. You come to stand in front of him. Your shoulders slump and you rest your head on his chest.

"Misha," you whisper.

"Yes?" he asks, but you stay silent. He stares down at the top of your head and sighs. His arms wrap around your shoulders and pull you into his chest fully, your body molding against his.

"If you don't wanna talk, don't," he says, one hand coming up to pet your hair. "Let's go to bed, yeah liebe?"

You nod and he chuckles. He gently guides you back to the bedroom, his hand on your lower back. When you get back, you try to sit down and crawl under the covers, but Kaiser stops you.

He smirks as he pulls you back and shakes your head, "Nuh uh, liebe. Warten."

He pulls the sheets back and then picks you up. He lowers you into the mattress and with slow, deliberate movements, he tucks you in. He kisses your forehead and gently rubs your face with his thumb. The action is so sweet but somehow also over the top that you can't help but laugh.

Kaiser smiles as he watches you. "There she is," he mutters.

#blue lock #bllk #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #isagi yoichi #isagi x reader #isagi yoichi x reader #isagi yoichi x you #itoshi sae #sae x reader #itoshi sae x reader #itoshi sae x you #kaiser michael #kaiser x reader #kaiser michael x reader #kaiser michael x you

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eliasoir · 16 hours ago

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ELIAAAA

could you maybe write a mark fic where he’s going down on you and makes you squirt for the first time ?? he finds it like incredibly hot

elia ! : i quite like the way your mind thinks anon >< hope this how you enviosined !

⏜💬. 𝘀𝗺𝘂𝘁 ﹙ 𝖬𝖣𝖭𝖨 𝟣𝟪+ ﹚ ⠀◞ ◟ 𓂃 𝖻𝖾𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗲 ／ 𝗈𝗋𝖺𝗅 𝒻.𝗋𝖾𝖼 , 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗆 , 𝗌𝗊𝗎𝗂𝗋𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 , 𝖼𝗎𝗋𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 , 𝗌𝗈𝖿𝗍!𝖽𝗈𝗆 𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗄 . 𝘄𝓬 𝟢.𝟧𝗄

mark had been tossing and turning you, taking you all different kinds of ways tonight.

he’s already made you come three times. your thighs were shaking, breath completely ragged and voice damn near gone. the sheets were clutched tight in your fists, and mark just wouldn’t stop.

he was still settled between your legs, tongue working slow, steady circles over your puffy clit. he’d being doing this for so long, like he’s he had no where else he’d feather be.

“m-mark,” you whisper, in a hoarse voice, your body twitching. “i can’t. please—baby, i can’t—“

he groans against your pussy, lips shiny and wet. “you can,” he breathes warm against you. “you always say that. then you give me another.”

he moves his fingers to spread your fold open again, the action causing you to whimper from sensitivity. your hips buck up helplessly to his mouth, but he loves it. revels in it even. you feel and hear him dip back down, moaning into the new feel. he was sloppier now, tongue flicking faster. his breath hot against your cunt.

“fuck—fuck—i’m gonna—“ your body snaps, again. right in the brink of letting go, the familiar pleasure flooding through you. your whole body going taut as you reach another climax for the fourth time tonight, even harder than the last. but something was different this time around.

pressure built too fast, too sharp, all too much. it hits you just like a shockwave. liquid splashing over his mouth, your thighs, the sheets below you, and the rest of his face.

“oh my god—“ you cry out, breath caught in your throat.

mark jerks back instinctively, blinking. his lips glistening wet, lips parted as he takes in the completely soaked mess that was your body.

“baby,” he breathes, jaw slack. “baby, what the—“

he runs two fingers through your folds almost curiously. all through the slick, soaked mess you just made, then moans loudly. “fuck,” he pants again. “that was…so fucking hot.”

he brings his fingers up to his mouth, sucks your release off his fingers like it was whipped cream from a sundae. his eyes roll back, lids fluttering shut.

“you squirted,” he murmurs, lost in awe. “holy shit, you squirted.”

you cover your flushed face with one arm, still panting, half in shock and half embarrassed. “i didn’t mean—i didn’t even know i could—“

“don’t you dare apologize,” he says looking up at you. mark was still stunned but so, so turned on. “that was the sexiest thing i’ve ever seen.”

he leans back down, not even hesitating, and licks a long, slow stripe up your pussy starting from your sopping hole to your throbbing clit. if he wasn’t addicted before, he definitely was now.

“fuuck,” he groans again. “baby…you’re so sexy. so perfect.”

you twitch under him, overstimulated and soaked and just utterly fucked out.

“c’mon,” he whispers, nudging your legs open again, hands stroking your shaky thighs. “let me try and make it happen again. just one more baby. promise.”

151 notes · View notes

starlostjisung · 1 day ago

Text

you could call me babe for the weekend

chapter four: please don’t become a stranger

wc: 4.4k

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you had always wondered if heartbreak felt like you had always seen in the movies or read about them in books. the moment that it all hits you and there’s nothing but emptiness and sadness

the truth was that it was worse.

so much worse.

nothing in the world could have ever prepared you for the mix of feelings you would feel the moment you heard chan saying those words.

“we would never be together”

“that’s bullshit”

“never gonna happen”

sadness, shame, loneliness, fear, heartbroken. you couldn’t tell which one hurt the most.

you didn’t hear the rest of chan’s conversation with changbin. you couldn’t do it anyway. the only sound you could hear was your own heartbeat, beating so loud you thought it was the echo of the broken pieces falling into different places.

places that chan couldn’t reach.

pieces that chan couldn’t fix.

you didn’t want chan to know you had heard him, so you went back to the bathroom and closed the door. you tried to steady your breaths, but with each one, you took it was more complicated and painful. you felt like you were slipping away.

you were going back to seoul in a couple of hours so you didn’t have much time. your turned the shower on and got in, giving yourself only five minutes to cry. you only had some hours left of this trip, you promised yourself could make it. once you were alone in your apartment, you would allow yourself to feel everything.

you got out of the shower, got ready and tried to prepare yourself to face chan. you knew he would see right away that there was something wrong with you, so you had to make this quick and believable. for the both of you.

you went into the room and started packing. chan was on the balcony - no longer on the phone - and turned around as soon as he heard you.

“hey, i didn’t see you this morning”

“no, i woke up and left early. i went to a lake nearby and stayed there for a while, i do it every year”, you told him without facing him. you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. not without breaking down

he noticed that you were not your usual self - he always did - and while you avoided him, he looked for you even more.

“hey”, he got on the floor next to your suitcase, “are you okay?”

you finally looked at him and he saw your red eyes, leaving his own eyes confused and concerned.

“yes, i didn’t sleep a lot to be honest, and my allergies are acting up today, so my eyes hurt a lot and i feel a bit congested, so i should probably take my allergy medicine today”, that was the best excuse you could come up with at the moment. you tried to smile at him, but he could see that the smile did not reach your eyes.

he didn’t fully believe you, but he didn’t push it further. if he knew one thing about you was that you would always be honest with him, and if there was something that was troubling you, you would always go to him. but you would do it in your own time, when you were ready.

so he thought he would just let you be and he would be ready for whenever you needed him. he would be there for you.

little did he know that this time you couldn’t go to him.

he started to pack his own things, having an eye on you the entire time. your movements were slow and tired, your energy not reaching you the way it always did. you looked like you had the weight of the world on your shoulders. he was sure something had happened on your walk this morning.

once all of your things were packed and ready, he offered to bring everything to his car, while you stayed in the room making sure you hadn’t forgotten anything.

he was almost out the door when something in him told him to reach out to you one more time, “y/n”, he turned to look at you, “are you sure you’re fine?”

“yes, i’m fine”, you didn’t even turn around.

and with that he left.

you gave yourself five more minutes to cry.

breakfast had gone quietly. after two whole days of socialising and eating and drinking and celebrating, it seemed like everyone was ready to go home today. luckily for you, your aunt had decided to ignore your entire existence, so she didn’t even bother to look at you the entire time. it seems like something good came out of the party at least.

of course chan had noticed you throughout the entire breakfast, he had been checking on you, like he always does. he knew you wouldn’t be your usual self but he saw how there was something pulling you down stronger and deeper than before. like you were lost and were silently asking and reaching for something, but no one could help you, no one could see you. he felt useless. he felt confused. he felt like you were slipping away.

and that terrified him.

after everyone had everything ready in the cars and had said their goodbyes to the rest of the family, chan and you got in his car and got ready to finally go home.

as soon as both of your doors closed, he looked at you and saw you rubbing your temple with your eyes closed, as if doing that would make something that was bothering you go away.

“okay, you sure you have everything here? you’re not forgetting anything?”, he knew the answer to that, but he felt the need to fill this weird silence that had been going on between you two the entire day

“yes, i’m sure. we can go now”

“okay”, he started the car and left the cabin

the ride was quiet, none of you talked during the first 10 minutes.

him because he didn’t know what to say. you because you didn’t trust yourself enough to talk without breaking down. and you didn’t want to do that in front of chan.

you were gripping the hem of you dress so tight your knuckles were turning white. he was aware of every single move you did.

chan was stealing glances at you. you could see him when he thought you weren’t looking.

something was ticking and it was going to explode if none of you did anything.

you couldn’t take it anymore, “i’m going to try and sleep for a bit, if you don’t mind. i didn’t get much sleep today and my head hurts a little bit”

“yeah, sure, of course. don’t worry, i will just wake you up when we arrive”, he cleared his throat to try to make it seem like he really was okay with it. he just wanted to fix whatever was making you behave this way, this wasn’t like you at all. he needed to fix whatever was taking you away from him.

“you sure?”, you didn’t feel strong enough to talk with him right now, but you also didn’t want him to be left alone during the drive

“yes, just try and sleep for a bit, y/n”, he looked at you for a moment. his eyes were dark, unreadable for most people. but not for you. you could see the sadness in them. the confusion. the fact that they were like this was making you even more sick.

that’s why you closed your eyes and pretended to sleep for the rest of the trip. but you didn’t sleep, not for one bit. and he knew it.

you couldn’t fool anyone, let alone chan.

you arrived to your apartment sooner that you had thought. while you appreciated the fact that you wouldn’t have to be more time with chan in his car, this couldn’t be further from the real you. driving with chan in his car was one of your favourite things in the world. whenever you both had free time, you would go and drive while singing and talking and just laughing with each other. just spending time together, with the windows rolled down and not a care in the world. like nothing else mattered. like you were the only thing that was important.

how different was that drive today.

chan stopped his car in front of your building and got out of the car to help you with your things.

“y/n let me take this”, he told you while trying to take your suitcase from you

“no chris, it’s okay i can do it”, you pulled it towards you a bit, trying to take it from chan’s grip and create more distance between you both

“no let me help you, it’s okay, i don’t mind going to your apartment to leave them there”, he tried again

“chris, no, it’s fine”, something in your tone made him stop and look at you. he saw something that he could not quite recognise, he had never seen that look on your face.

you broke the eye contact and let out a long sigh, “thank you so much for helping me these days, chris, i really appreciate it”, you told him honestly, “now go home and rest, it’s been a long weekend”, you looked at him again with what you were sure was a look of defeat.

he didn’t know what to say. he couldn’t even open his mouth. the only thing he could do was look at you.

something inside him was screaming at him. telling him to not go, to not leave you alone. because if he did, the tightrope that had broken the day before, would not be able to be fixed anymore.

so he hugged you. he held you in his arms like it was the last thing he was going to do. in a way, it felt like that.

he felt you doubting at the beginning. how confused you were. how you had not expected him to hug you. how you didn’t know how to respond to the hug. your hands were just in the air, unsure of where to hug him, even wondering if you should hug him in the first place.

he hugged you tighter, showing no signs of stopping. encouraging you to hold on to him and never let him go. praying to whatever was up there that you would return the hug, that you were still holding the tightrope with him.

you hugged him back. stronger than you had ever hugged him. he let out a sigh of relief, thinking that this meant that you would go to him when you felt ready and explain whatever was going on with you today. but he kept thinking that you two were okay, that you were still the same people from three days before, just before this trip started.

he didn’t know that the reason you had hugged him back was because you thought this would be the last time you would have this opportunity. your last chance of having him this close to you. the last time of being with your friend chan, just you two.

you felt the distance growing impossibly stronger. the tightrope was almost on its breaking point.

as soon as you closed your apartment’s door, you let your things on the living room and you slid down a wall crying. you let all out. everything that you had bottled up inside

you sobbed uncontrollably, you grabbed your hair trying to find something to grab you to reality, because you felt like you were drifting away.

you couldn’t comprehend what had happened in the last 24 hours. what had gone wrong. how you had ended up there.

you gasped for air, feeling like the walls were closing in on you. you were suffocating.

how could you move on from this? you didn’t know

it was one thing to think that chan would never see you the way that you saw him, that he didn’t return your feelings. you had already lived with that for a long time.

but hearing him saying that you two would never be together? saying that while sounding so sure of himself? as if there was zero possibility of that happening? that broke you in ways you didn’t know were possible.

you wished you could go back to one week ago before any of this happened. you would go back to your aunt’s snarky comments a million times. to them believing you weren’t able to have a relationship. that you would always be alone.

you would take everything back just so you would never lose chan.

but you couldn’t do that now.

you lost the game of chance. what were the chances?

the days passed slowly and dreadfully. you went to work and then went back home. that’s all you did. you weren’t living, just existing.

you were consumed and controlled by your feelings, the first one being sadness. you would just walk in circles in your apartment like you were lost, letting your mind run wild. you were haunted by all of the what ifs.

what would have happened if you had never asked him to go with you?

what would have happened if you had kissed in the cellar?

what would have happened if you had talked about it that night?

would any of this be different?

you wanted to forget. you couldn’t deal with the memories of those days. you wanted to unrecall how you could have had it all.

unknowingly, he had painted heaven for you that weekend, but you had gone to hell.

as the days passed, the sadness was slowly replaced by anger.

why did you do that?

why did you go to that stupid trip?

why did you take chan with you?

why did he agree to go with you?

why did he treat you like you were really his girlfriend and not just some pretend?

why did he almost kiss you?

why did he not speak about it afterwards?

why did felix encourage you to confess?

you were not angry at any of them, especially not chan, but you were beside yourself. you couldn’t deal with the blame on your own. with all the pain.

you just wanted to forget. you needed to forget.

all of the memories you had together were like holograms stumbling in your apartment. laughing at you, at what you had lost. because you knew nothing would ever be the same.

and you were terrified of that. you couldn’t live in a world where you didn’t have chan.

he had been checking on you the whole week. felix had too.

you would reply to his texts, but he could feel something was seriously wrong. you would reply with short answers and take a long time to do it. you didn’t start the conversations. you didn’t reach out for him. you wouldn’t check on him or ask if you could drop by the studio. you didn’t ask him if he was eating or sleeping. you wouldn’t send him you silly tiktok videos. he thought he didn’t exist for you, which couldn’t be further from the truth.

you knew you were hurting chan, but you were hurting too and you didn’t know how to deal with all of that.

this was your fault. you had messed everything up. there was no one else to blame but you.

he sent another message. he kept it short and simple.

“are we okay?”

your world shattered.

it was the next saturday when it all happened. you had spent the whole day cleaning your apartment, doing your laundry, going through emails from work. chores to keep your mind occupied. if there was something that would take your mind off chan, you would take it. even if it only lasted 10 minutes. at this point chan and you, your friendship, had started to feel like embroidered memories of a past time. a time that you were sure you would never get back nor have new memories to stitch to them.

you would do anything to get even a glimpse of all that again. you hoped that everything was still alive, killing time somewhere. that it wasn’t completely buried.

chan had become a part of you from the moment you two first met all those years ago. this week that part had been replaced by a hole, by the emptiness of him, something you weren’t used to.

never before and ever since.

he had promised you he would always be there for you. you had promised him you would never leave.

never mind.

your friendship, all your moments together. you felt like they had been engulfed in fire.

you had lost them. you had pushed your luck, and it showed.

it was almost dinner time when you heard the door. someone was knocking.

you weren’t expecting anyone, so you didn’t open at first. you couldn’t find the strength to go from your couch to the door.

but whoever it was kept knocking. they were insistent. you finally got up and opened the door.

it was chan.

“chris? what are you doing here?”

his eyes were bloodshot. he looked like he hadn’t slept in days, like he was ready to collapse.

“y/n, we need to talk”

he didn’t give you time to answer, he let himself in. you closed the door behind him and breathed in and out. deeply. you were not ready for this. you had been avoiding this conversation because, as much as you knew it was necessary, you also knew it would mean the ending of your friendship. the ending of chan and you.

you hadn’t thought that would happen today. you weren’t ready for today to be the last time you ever saw chan. you could feel yourself starting to panic.

you went to your living room and saw him walking in circles. not knowing where to start.

you saw his trembling hands, his unsteady breaths.

you braced yourself for whatever was about to happen. you closed your eyes, inhaled again and-

“what’s going on y/n?”

you opened your eyes and saw him looking at you. the look on his face would have broken your soul if it hadn’t been broken already.

“noth-“

“don’t you dare say nothing’s wrong y/n, because i’m not fucking buying it, not today, not after this week”, you could see how angry he was, he was desperate

you couldn’t blame him, you hadn’t dealt with all this in the best way. and he had been in the receiving end. add this to the list of things you would regret for life.

you could see how fast he was breathing now. how he was as scared as you about what was going to happen. him standing there like that pierced new holes in your heart, something you didn’t know it was even possible at this point.

“it’s been a long week chris, i’m sorry i didn’t reach out”, you tried

“no, y/n, there’s more than that, what is going on?”

you couldn’t say anything. it was like your mouth wouldn’t cooperate with you. “i love you”, that’s what you wanted to scream. but you knew he wouldn’t return your feelings, so there was no point in telling him. so what could you possibly tell him?

“you have been like this ever since we left the cabin last weekend. since you went out that morning and went back. you have been distant, keeping me away from you and i want to know why, y/n, because this whole week i’ve been going insane, replaying every single moment of the trip in my mind, trying to see if i had done something to you, if something had happened to you and i didn’t notice. but nothing. i can’t think of anything. so please, i’m begging you. what is going on y/n?”

that was it. you couldn’t keep it from him any longer. you didn’t have the energy to do it either.

“i heard you and changbin”, you finally told him

he felt the air leaving his lungs. the colour drained from his face.

it hit him. the call.

you had heard him. how much had you heard? he wasn’t sure.

“y/n i-“

“i didn’t mean to eavesdrop, i really didn’t. but i was getting ready to take a shower, and i heard you talking and you seemed serious so i thought something had happened so i went to ask but i heard you”, you looked to the floor, you couldn’t face him. you could feel your eyes starting to water, but you tried to hold it together as long as you could.

he didn’t answer. he didn’t know what to say. he felt his world crashing down. he didn’t know what he had expected from your conversation, but never in a million years would he have thought it would be this.

“i heard you saying that the whole trip was a bad idea and that you shouldn’t have agreed to come with me and that you regretted it, which it’s fair, i don’t blame you. i’m really sorry that i made you go through all that. i never intended for you to have to go through something you would later regret”

he wanted to stop you there. to tell you that he didn’t regret going there with you. that he would never regret anything that involved you.

but the words wouldn’t leave his mouth. he tried to say them. to scream them. but they were just left in a hole inside him.

you were breaking in front of him and he couldn’t do anything. he was just watching it happen.

this seemed like his worst nightmare.

“then you said something like we couldn’t honestly be together, that that couldn’t happen or something like that”, he saw you smile sadly, while your tears started to fall freely from your face.

he wanted to reach out to you and just wipe them away and hold you in his arms and never let you go. but it seemed like the distance between you two was impossible to cross.

“i get why you said that, i really do, because friends are not supposed to have feelings for each other, right?”, you looked at him, with sad eyes and still the same sad smile, “but it still hurt to hear that. to hear you saying that.”, you let out a sigh, “you know how i’ve always felt misunderstood and not enough for anybody. but that had never happened with you. with you, chris, i’ve always felt enough, like i deserved everything that i had. my friends. my job. my happiness. like i was worthy of everything in my life. like i was worthy of love. but hearing you saying, so sure of yourself, that people wouldn’t believe that we were together because that simply couldn’t be real made me doubt everything. it made me believe what everyone else had always said. that i am not enough and will never be. that i don’t deserve all these things”, you laughed sadly while more tears fell down your face.

you looked away from him and used your hands to wipe your tears, “i had never felt that way with you chris”, you looked at him again, having lost your smile this time, “but hearing you saying that made me doubt everything about us”

chan had to grab whatever was closest to him because he could feel himself collapsing. he had caused this. your world had torn apart, and he was the one to blame.

“y/n, please…”, he tried to reach for you, but you stepped back, ”please listen to me. i didn’t mean any of that, that wasn’t what i was trying to say”

you choked on your tears, a sad laugh left your mouth again, “chris don’t lie to me”

he shook his head, “no no, listen i’m not lying to you, i promise you”

“chris i fucking heard you”, you snapped at him, something you had never done before. he couldn’t recognise you, the y/n that was broken in front of him wasn’t his y/n, the one he had vowed to protect and never let anything or anyone hurt her. he had failed his own promise. and he had been the one to hurt you.

you choked on another sad laugh, “i heard you saying that us together was bullshit. not ridiculous or absurd. complete bullshit, chris, and that it would never happen”

the only thing he could do at this point was look at you, with tears on his own eyes, threatening to fall any moment now.

“the way that you said it, no doubt in your voice, so sure of yourself, made me wonder. what else is bullshit chris?

“wh-what do you mean?”, he started to hyperventilate, he felt like he was losing you completely. he had to do something and he had to do it now

“is our friendship bullshit too chris?”

“what? no no no no, why would you even say that?”, he couldn’t believe you would even ask that

“because you said it chris! that us together is bullshit! we can’t be together, it’s not believable or whatever you want to say. so if a relationship is bullshit, why wouldn’t the friendship be bullshit as well huh?”, you didn’t even know what you were saying at this point. did you mean this? no, but you had kept everything quiet for so long you didn’t even know how to go back anymore.

there was no going back from this.

he was just standing there, looking at you, like he couldn’t even recognise you.

you couldn’t recognise him either.

you looked at him, with more tears falling down your eyes this time.

“am i bullshit too, chris?”, you were not ready for his answer

“don’t. don’t you ever say that again. you fucking know that’s not what i meant. i didn’t mean anything of what i said”, he was getting angry now, he needed to fix this before it was all too late but he didn’t know how to do it. but he couldn’t lose you. not today, not ever. especially not because of this.

“then what did you mean chris? why did you even say all that if you didn’t mean it that way?”

and finally, he snapped.

“i said all that because i know you don’t love me the way that i love you”

everything stopped.

you gasped.

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chapter four is finally out!!!! aaaaaaaa i can’t believe we only have one more chapter left 😭 please don’t hate me too much for this one 🫣

thank you sooooooo much for all the love for this series, it really means a lot to me that you like this story as much as i do 🩷 see you in the final part my loves 💛

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you could call me babe for the weekend taglist: @beyunjinnn @emmiesoverthemoon @skzbiasot8 @havennz @hyunjinxxs @reetheratt @heartwithoutaname @ahseyy @hyvneluv @domicaru @annyeongffs @necrozica @lavunyan @0x1lovesong1 @leylaasroom @bluesungology @sleepyzeiff @velvetmoonlght @encoredesires @sammhisphere @we-are-bloody-inspired @straykids4lifeee @xxestxays @4ng3l-ch1ld @geni-627 @how-are-you-not-fine @luvbangchan @btch8008s @the-life-of-stella @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @strsforjsb @n3ha @idiotmaterial @skinnyjeans-tanktops @wolfhallows4 @lyftyyy @infinite-lucid-daydreams @artfairyyyyy @sofix-hc7 @sunflwerstar @lomllino @alifeinthelifeof @sayuri122014 @changbinshearteubeateu @aniski @iamlazychip

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148 notes · View notes

sergeantbarnessdoll · 2 days ago

Note

Hi is it possible for you to do a wife/reader x Bucky/husband where she falls off the train but she is pregnant and never got to tell him about it (she tells Peggy).

Years later the avengers and Bucky invades a hydra base where Bucky comes face to face with y/n and a 5 year old girl (Bucky’s Daughter); they fight and the avengers gets the upper hand and they take the girl but Y/n gets away leaving unknowingly her daughter with the Avengers where she makes an unbreakable bond with them especially her father.

Tony does some research on the girl and finds in his father’s file that the girl is in fact Bucky’s daughter and that pisses him off making him more determined to find y/n.

When Y/n shows up again she tries to recapture her daughter unknowingly because HYDRA wiped her memory. However the Avengers tries to protect the girl while Bucky tries to get through to her.

However she knocked them out and captured her daughter making the girl scream and that triggers her memory but it doesn’t help however Bucky recovers and fights her again telling her about their past and how Hydra took it all away from them and she finally remembers.

It finally ends with them in bed together and a little boy in her arms

Finally A Family » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Pairings: Husband!40s Bucky Barnes x Wife/Pregnant!Reader with Post Serum Steve Rogers, Avenger/Husband/Dad!Bucky Barnes x Wife/Mom!Reader with Steve Rogers/Captain America and the Avengers

Summary: You never got the chance to tell Bucky that you’re pregnant before falling off of the train and he finds out years later that he has a daughter and you’re alive.

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, language, HYDRA, near death experience, crying, violence, nightmares, kissing, pet names

A/N: Thank you for the lovely request, nonnie🩵

A/N #2: Bucky does not have a metal arm in this, but he’s still a Super Soldier

Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.

Header made by @buckyys-babydoll / divider made by me

GIFS ARE NOT MINE! Gif credits go to the creators.

1945

“You’ve been very affectionate lately.” Bucky says as you kissed his lips.

“What can I say? I love my Sergeant husband.” You say, kissing him once again.

“And I love my agent wife.” He says softly as he kisses you passionately.

You two laughed as the Howling Commandos cheered you and Bucky on. You two pecked each other’s lips a couple times before putting yours and his focus back on the mission.

“Are you guys ready?” Steve asks.

“Yes.” You and Bucky answered in unison.

Steve ziplines down to the moving train, followed by Bucky and then you. The three of you landed safely on top of the train. You guys from a hatch on the train’s roof. Bucky opened it and you and Steve jumped inside and so did Bucky. You three quietly and cautiously walked through the train car with your weapons held in front of you. Suddenly, as Steve walked through an entrance of the train car, you and Bucky were separated from Steve when the door slides closed. Yours, Bucky’s, and Steve’s eyes went wide. That’s when a HYDRA agent appeared and aimed his weapon at you and Bucky. You and Bucky shot at him, taking him down with ease. Then another one appeared. You and Bucky shot at him till you two were out of bullets. You two hid next to the cargo that’s on the train to avoid getting shot. Bucky put his arm in front of you to protect you.

You put your hand on your belly. You recently found out that you’re pregnant with yours and Bucky’s first child. Your belly barely showing. You’re almost a month along. You do plan on telling him, but you got caught up with the mission of taking down HYDRA that you completely spaced it out. You do plan on telling him after this mission. The only person who knows you’re pregnant is Peggy. Should you be on a mission while pregnant? No, but you want to get as much work done as you can before the baby is born.

When you weren’t paying attention, Steve found a button to open the door and pushed it, tossing Bucky a loaded gun. Bucky shot at the HYDRA agent while Steve used all of his strength to push a cargo box into the HYDRA agent, knocking him out. You regained your focus when the HYDRA agent’s body hit the floor.

“I had him on the ropes.” Bucky says.

“I know you did.” Steve says.

That’s when another HYDRA agent appeared behind you three. The sound of his weapon firing up made the three of you turn around. Steve held his shield up and pushed you and Bucky behind him, shielding you two from the blast that sent the three of you to the floor. You looked up to see the HYDRA agent approaching you. You stood up, grabbing Steve’s shield and shot at him. The HYDRA agent shot a blast at you, sending you outside of the train. You were holding onto the railing for dear life. Bucky’s eyes widened and his heart dropped to the pit of his stomach. He scrambled onto his feet and ran over to the hole in the train’s wall.

“I’m coming, doll!” Bucky shouts.

You nodded. Bucky carefully climbs outside of the train, holding onto the railing. He got as close as he could to you and reached his hand out towards you.

“Grab my hand!” He shouts.

As you were reaching for Bucky’s hand, your fingers grazed his fingers when the railing gave out and you fell, plummeting downwards. Bucky watches in horror.

“Y/N!” Bucky screams.

Steve helped Bucky back on the train. Bucky looks down at where you fell, his eyes tearing up. Steve’s eyes teared up too.

“This isn’t real. Please tell me that this isn’t real.” Bucky says, his voice cracking.

“I’m sorry, Buck.” Steve says, putting a comfort hand on Bucky’s shoulder.

Bucky let out a loud sob that sent chills down Steve’s spine.

“We need to finish this mission, Buck.” Steve says softly.

Bucky nods and sniffles. He stood up and wiped his tears away with the sleeves of his jacket before continuing on the mission with Steve and the Howling Commandos. Bucky isn’t the kind of person who seeks revenge, but he does now. He wants HYDRA to pay for what happened to you.

PRESENT DAY

That day still haunts Bucky. He thinks about it all the time. He has nightmares about it almost every night. He can still hear the sound of your screams as you plummeted downwards.

Bucky thought he seen the last of HYDRA that day, but he has to go on a mission with Steve and the Avengers to a HYDRA base. He’d much rather stay at the compound than to be within 100 feet of a HYDRA base for what they took from him years ago, but he doesn’t have a choice. He has to be on this mission with the Avengers.

Bucky stood at the entrance of the quinjet, staring at the HYDRA base in front of him. He squeezes his eyes shut and shudders when he hears your scream in his mind. The Avengers walked by him. Steve stood next to him, putting a hand on his shoulder to bring him back to reality.

“It’ll be ok, Buck.” Steve says softly.

Bucky nods and takes a deep breath before walking off of the quinjet with Steve by his side. Bucky, Steve, and the Avengers cautiously walked around the base with their weapons held in front of them. Little did Bucky and Steve know that you and your daughter were just down the hall. You poked your head out from your hiding spot, seeing Bucky, Steve, and the Avengers walking the opposite direction of you and your daughter.

“You know what to do.” You whispered to your 5 year old daughter Mary.

As much as Mary doesn’t want to do this, she doesn’t want to make you mad so she did what you told her to do. She ran up and down the hallway to make it look like she was playing. Bucky and Steve stopped when they heard her small footsteps. They were shocked to see a little girl standing a few feet away from them after they turned around. Mary stood there and stared at them without saying a word. They slowly approached her so they didn’t accidentally scare her in any way.

“Are you ok, sweetheart? Are you hurt?” Bucky asks softly.

Mary stared up at him and didn’t say anything. You stepped out of your hiding place a few seconds later. Bucky and Steve were in shock when they seen you for the first time in years.

“Y/N?” Bucky asks.

“Who the hell is Y/N?” You asked.

Hearing that felt like someone ripped Bucky’s heart out of his chest and crushed it in their bare hands.

“Barnes, do you know her?” Natasha asks.

“She’s my wife.” Bucky tells her.

Bucky slowly approaches you. You grabbed the gun out of your thigh holster and aimed it at him. He stops, putting his hands up in surrender.

“Doll, I’m your husband. Don’t you remember me?” He asks softly.

“I don’t have a husband.” You said.

Hearing that made Bucky’s eyes tear up. Bucky knew what he had to do. He slowly approaches you again. You cocked your gun as he did so. Before you could pull the trigger, Bucky managed to get the gun out of your hand and threw it as far as he could down the hallway. That’s when you started fighting him, along with Steve and the Avengers. Mary moved out of the way so she didn’t get hurt. Bucky wrapped his arms around you and held you against him, pinning your arms down to your sides.

“Y/N, it’s me. Please remember me.” Bucky pleads.

“No!” You shouted.

You threw your head back, giving Bucky a bloody nose.

“Ow, fuck!” Bucky cries out in pain.

Bucky let go of you to hold his blood nose. You got away from them. You assumed that Mary was running behind you, but she wasn’t. She was still standing there and looking at Bucky, Steve, and the Avengers.

“We have to go, Buck.” Steve says.

Bucky nods and wipes his bloody nose on the sleeve of his jacket. He picked up Mary and followed Steve and the Avengers back to the quinjet. Surprisingly, Mary didn’t put up a fight when Bucky picked her up. You gave her the stranger danger talk when you’re not brainwashed, but something about Bucky is telling Mary that he’s a trusting adult. Bucky carefully sat her down on one of the seats in the quinjet and crouched down in front of her.

“Are you ok, kiddo?” Bucky asks softly as he checked her for any injuries.

“I’m not hurt.” Mary says.

“Do you know who that woman is?” He asks.

“My mommy.” She tells him.

“Did she ever hurt you?” He asks.

“Mommy never hurt me.” She says.

“What about the other people in there?” He asks.

“Sometimes.” She answers.

“You don’t have to worry about those bad people ever again.” He assures.

Mary felt the quinjet beginning to go in the air. She started to freak out, because you weren’t on the quinjet with her. She jumps down from the seat and ran towards the closed door of the quinjet. Bucky picked her up before she could get to the door.

“I don’t want to leave mommy!” Mary cries.

“Hey, hey. It’s ok.” Bucky coos softly. “We’ll come back for mommy.” He says.

“Promise?” She asks.

“Promise.” He promises.

Mary relaxed in Bucky’s arms and grew tired. Bucky held her as she slept in his arms. When the Avengers got to the compound, Bucky helped Mary get cleaned up and made her something to eat. She settled in quicker than any of the Avengers thought.

Meanwhile, Tony was in the lab scrolling through files on a hard drive he found when the Avengers raided the HYDRA base. He came across his dad’s name on the file and clicked on it. As he was reading the file, he came across something.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y, tell Barnes to come to the lab.” Tony says.

“Yes, Mr. Stark.” F.R.I.D.A.Y replies.

Bucky left Mary with Steve while he went to the lab to see what Tony wanted.

“I was told you needed me?” Bucky says.

“You need to read this.” Tony says, handing Bucky the laptop.

Bucky read the file, seeing Tony’s dad’s name on it.

“I don’t understand what information on your dad has to do with me.” Bucky says.

“Keep reading it.” Tony says.

Bucky kept reading it. His eyes went wide when he came across your name in bold letters. He felt his heart drop.

“N-No. This isn’t possible. My wife would’ve told me that she was pregnant.” Bucky says.

“Is it a possibility that she lied to you?” Tony asks.

“No, of course not. My wife and I told each other everything.” Bucky says.

He continued reading the file. That’s when he came across Mary’s name.

“Mary is my daughter?” Bucky says to himself.

Bucky is in complete shock. Finding out that you were pregnant when you fell off of the train and Mary is his daughter.

“Thank you for showing me this, Tony.” Bucky says, giving the laptop back to him.

Bucky went back to the kitchen where she’s drawing on blank pieces of paper. He still had a shocked look on his face.

“Are you ok, Buck? You look like you just seen a ghost.” Steve says.

“Y/N was pregnant when she fell off the train in 1945.” Bucky says.

“The baby survived that?” Steve asks.

“Apparently.” Bucky says.

“Where’s the child now?” Steve asks.

Bucky nods his head towards Mary. He sat down next to her.

“Mary, what’s your mommy’s name?” Bucky asks, just to be sure.

“Y/N.” Mary tells him.

Bucky’s breathing hitched in his throat. He lets out a shaky breath before telling her what he’s about to tell her.

“Your mommy-” Bucky takes a deep breath. “Your mommy is my wife. Which means, I’m your daddy.” He tells her.

“You’re my daddy?” Mary asks.

“Yes I am.” He confirms. “I want you to know that I’ll do everything I can to protect you, sweetheart.” He says softly.

“Ok.” She replies.

A couple days go by and Bucky is getting the hang of being a dad. He bought parenting books to help him. Overall, he’s an amazing dad. He loves Mary. She’s an amazing kid.

In those couple of days, you planned on getting your daughter back. You managed to sneak out of the HYDRA base and snuck inside of the Avengers compound.

“Someone has entered the building.” F.R.I.D.A.Y informs the Avengers.

“Who is it?” Steve asks.

F.R.I.D.A.Y showed the Avengers the security cameras. Bucky’s eyes went wide when he saw you.

“It’s Y/N.” Bucky says.

Bucky quickly ran down the hall to the lounge room where Mary was watching cartoons. He picked her up and immediately took her to her bedroom.

“Stay here and don’t open the door.” Bucky says.

“Ok, daddy.” Mary replies.

Bucky closes the door, locking it to keep her safe. As Bucky was walking down to hall, he heard thuds. He ran to see what it was. He seen the Avengers knocked out on the floor. You came up from behind and jumped on his back, catching him by surprise. Bucky managed to get you off of him by grabbing your tactical vest and flipped you onto the floor. He pinned your arms against the floor above your head.

“Where’s my daughter?!” You asked, squirming in his hold on you.

“I’m not telling you.” Bucky says.

You wrapped your legs around his waist and used all of your strength to flip the two of you over.

“Where is she?!” You asked again.

Bucky desperately wanted to tell you where Mary is, but he doesn’t want to risk anything happening to her. He knows he shouldn’t keep his daughter from her mother, but this isn’t you. This is your brainwashed self. He doesn’t want to know what you’d do to Mary while you’re brainwashed.

“This isn’t you, Y/N. You have to fight it. Can you do that for me?” He says.

“The only thing I’m going to fight for is to get my daughter back.” You say. “Tell me where she is!” You demanded.

“No. I can’t risk you hurting our daughter.” He says.

Being accused of something you would never do set you off. You head butted him as hard as you could, knocking him out. You got off of him and looked around the compound for Mary. You looked in every room, but didn’t find her in any of those rooms. Then you finally checked her bedroom, only to find the door locked. You kicked the door down and walked in the bedroom. You could hear whimpering in the closet. You opened the closet door to see Mary on the floor with her hands over her ears. You bent down and picked her up. Mary seen you. Normally, she’s happy to see you, but this time, she’s scared. She squirmed in your grasp to get away from you.

“DADDY!” Mary screams! “DADDY, HELP ME!” She screams again.

Mary screaming triggers something in your mind. You weren’t sure if it was your memories or your motherly instincts. Either or, you tried to escape the compound. As Bucky was waking up, he heard Mary screaming for him. He scrambled to stand up and ran to look for her. Bucky found her in your arms near the back door where you snuck inside of the compound.

“Y/N, stop!” Bucky shouts.

You stopped and turned around.

“Daddy!” Marry cries.

“It’s ok, sweetheart.” Bucky coos softly.

Bucky walked towards you to take Mary from you. You walked backwards, not wanting him to take your daughter away from you.

“Y/N, give her to me.” He says.

“No.” You say, standing your ground.

“Give her to me.” He says again.

“No.” You said again. “She’s my daughter.” You say.

“She’s our daughter.” He corrects you.

You frowned when he said that. Then you found yourself handing Mary to Bucky. Mary broke down in tears in her dad’s arms.

“You’re ok, sweetie.” Bucky coos. “I’m going to help mommy. I want you to go to uncle Steve, ok?” He says.

“Ok, daddy.” Mary sniffles.

Bucky put her on the floor and she ran to find Steve. Then you and Bucky were having a stare off.

“Please don’t make me do this.” Bucky pleads.

You narrowed your eyes at him before charging at him and attacked him. As much as he didn’t want to fight you, he fought you anyway.

“This isn’t you, Y/N.” Bucky dodged a punch. “Your name is Y/N Barnes. You’re my wife. We’re high school sweethearts. We got married the same week we graduated from high school.” He tells you.

“Shut the fuck up!” You shouted, punching him in the face and giving him a bloody nose.

“You have to fight this, Y/N. Do it for me and our daughter.” He says.

You lowered your fists when he said that. Your memories flowed back into your head. Your eyes teared up when you realized what you were trying to do. You fell to your knees and started crying. Bucky got on his knees and wrapped his arms around you. You melted into his touch.

“I almost kidnapped my daughter.” You say after a few minutes.

“It’s not your fault, doll. It wasn’t you.” Bucky says softly.

You looked up at Bucky, remembering him as your husband.

“You’re my husband.” You say.

“I am.” He confirms.

“I’m so sorry, James.” You apologized.

“You don’t have anything to apologize for, babydoll.” He almost whispers. “Let’s get you cleaned up, ok?” He says.

You nodded and sniffled. Bucky picked you up bridal style and took you to his bedroom to get you cleaned up and changed into clean clothes.

“I should’ve told you that I was pregnant in 1945.” You say.

“I’m your husband. Why didn’t you tell me?” Bucky asks as he sat down in front of you.

“Please believe me when I say that I was going to tell you. I wanted it to be a surprise. I told Peggy not to tell you.” You say.

“Wait. Peggy knew that you were pregnant in 1945?” He asks.

You nodded your head yes.

“Did Steve know?” Bucky asks.

“No. I told her not to tell anyone.” You say.

Bucky wanted to be mad at you for not telling him that you were pregnant in 1945, but he didn’t want to punish you for that. You feel guilty enough as it is.

“I’m so sorry, James. Then we got caught up with that mission and I-” You got choked up before you could finish what you were saying.

Bucky wrapped his arms around you and pulled you onto his lap.

“Everything is fine now, doll. Our daughter is safe and you’re safe. I’m going to do everything I can to protect my girls.” He promises.

That made you a little bit better. You looked up at your husband, smiling at him.

“You always know what to say.” You say.

“Isn’t that why you married me?” Bucky smiles.

You leaned up and kissed him softly and passionately. His lips are still soft like they were years ago. One thing led to another and you two ended up under the sheets.

———

9 months later, you and Bucky welcomed a baby boy to the world. You two named him William. Mary nicknamed him Willy, which you and Bucky find cute.

“What are you doing awake, princess?” Bucky asks as Mary walked in William’s nursery while he’s feeding him.

“Can’t sleep.” Mary says.

“C’mere.” He says.

Bucky carefully held William in one arm and Mary climbed up onto his lap and he held her with his free arm. Mary got comfortable by laying her head on Bucky’s shoulder and gently held William’s hand. You walked in the nursery a moment later, smiling at the cuteness in front of you.

“There’s my favorite people.” You say softly.

Bucky look over at you and smiles. You walked over to him and gave him a soft kiss on his lips and then kissed Mary and William on the tops of their heads.

“I’m happy that we finally got the family we’ve been wanting for years.” Bucky says softly.

“Me too.” You smiled. “I love you and our babies.” You say sweetly.

“I love you and our babies too, doll.” He smiles.

-Bucky’s Doll

153 notes · View notes

pankesitopank · 24 hours ago

Note

hard dom ni-ki x hard dom jay x sub reader thoughts?

HardDom!Niki - HardDom!Jay Who...

Girl, get ready because this has a part 2

this is more than 4k words of the 2 separately, and the second part is with the 2

🖤 Harddom!Ni-ki who slaps you in the face with his cock just to watch you flinch, then holds your jaw and does it again slower, meaner, because you looked too fucking pretty the first time.

He doesn’t even warn you.

You’re already on your knees, the floor cold under your thighs, fingers gripping his jeans like it’ll help you stay upright — and then smack. His cock lands across your cheek with a wet, heavy thud that echoes in the silence. You gasp, eyes going wide, skin stinging, and when you glance up at him, his grin is pure filth.

"Aw, did that surprise you?" he coos, tone mocking, thumb already grabbing your chin to keep your face tilted up.

Another slap. Slower this time. Deliberate. It drags over your lips, slick and hot, painting your mouth with pre-cum.

"Open. Wider. Yeah, that’s it. Fucking look at you."

He groans under his breath like the sight turns him on — and it does. You, obedient and wide-eyed, mouth open while he taps the tip against your tongue like it’s nothing but a toy for him to play with.

Then his hand tightens around your jaw.

"Sluts don’t get to be shy. Say ah, sweetheart. You wanna be used, right?"

He doesn’t give you the chance to answer. Just presses in deeper, cock stretching your lips painfully slow, watching with predatory eyes as your mascara starts to smear from how hard you're trying to hold eye contact. Your throat tightens. He loves that.

"That’s it. Cry on my dick."

And he laughs — fucking laughs — when your eyes gloss over, when you gag a little, when spit starts to drip down your chin and you whimper around the weight in your mouth. He doesn’t thrust yet. He just rests it there, thick and throbbing on your tongue, daring you to take more.

"Keep going. Show me how much of a whore you really are."

Because hard dom!Ni-ki doesn’t just want you on your knees.

He wants you wrecked.

From the first slap to the final drop of spit.

🖤 Harddom!Ni-ki who slaps your pussy so hard you jolt and sob, then does it again just to feel the way your thighs twitch — because pain makes you tighter, and he likes it when your cunt clenches around nothing.

You're already a mess — lips kiss-bruised, cheeks sticky with spit, eyes glossy like you’re drunk off him. He’s got you laid out flat on the bed, legs wide open, panties ripped and discarded, knees shaking like they’re begging to close.

But he doesn't let them.

He’s kneeling between your thighs, big hand planted firmly on your inner knee, keeping you spread and helpless while the other one lifts.

Crack.

The first slap hits your clit, sharp and wet, and you jerk like you’ve been electrocuted.

A choked cry tears out of your throat.

“Fuck—Ni-ki—” you whimper, hips squirming back instinctively. But he only grabs your waist and drags you closer, forcing you to take it again.

Crack.

“Did I say you could run?” he growls, eyes dark and wild, teeth clenched like he’s barely restraining himself. “You beg for cock but can’t take a little slap? That’s pathetic.”

Smack.

Another hit — your pussy clenches so hard it sends a pulse through your whole body, and he notices.

He drags two fingers through your folds, slow and cruel, humming at how soaked you are.

“Look at this. You’re dripping,” he sneers, voice low and taunting. “You like it when I hurt you? Fucking slut. This messy little hole’s crying for it.”

He slaps it again, this time faster — left, right, center — a rhythm meant to punish you. The slick clap of skin-on-skin echoes like sin between your thighs.

And you’re not sure if you’re shaking from pain, need, or how absolutely wrecked his voice makes you.

“I want this pussy swollen, baby. Red and stinging. You’re not gonna cum until I make her cry.”

You nod, dizzy, desperate, thighs trembling so hard they ache.

He grins. Dark. Hungry.

Then he spits right on your cunt and slaps it again.

🖤 Harddom!Ni-ki who forces his cock into you slow and deep while you whimper “It’s too big,” only to pin your legs up and push harder, smirking as your cunt stretches wide open around him—because he doesn’t care if it fits. He’s going to make it.

You can feel it before you even see it.

The weight of it, the heat — his thick cock dragging along your inner thigh as he lines himself up, one hand gripping the back of your knee to keep you folded open for him.

You try to breathe.

You try to stay relaxed.

But you feel him press the head to your entrance, and your body tenses on instinct. You’re too tight. Too sensitive from all the slapping. Your pussy flinches, clenches, like it’s trying to prepare—but it’s not enough.

Not for him.

“Ni-ki—wait—it’s too—”

He doesn’t.

He just grunts through his teeth and sinks the first few inches in, slow but unyielding, watching your face twist into something halfway between pain and ruined desire.

“Too what? Too big?” he mocks, voice low and smug. “Should’ve thought of that before you started acting like a brat. Now you’re gonna take it. All of it.”

Your hands grab the sheets. Your back arches off the bed.

You gasp. Whine. Claw at him, nails digging into his arms as the burn starts to set in.

It’s stretching you. Too wide, too deep — you feel every inch and then more.

But Ni-ki just groans at the way your walls flutter, the way you try to squirm away, the way your pussy sucks him in like it’s begging to be broken.

He grabs your hips.

Shoves deeper.

You cry out — a high, choked moan that cuts off halfway when he rocks forward again and buries it to the base.

“Fuck, you feel that?” he hisses, eyes rolling back slightly. “Your cunt’s hugging me like she doesn’t wanna let go. That’s fucking cute.”

You’re shaking.

Mumbling nonsense.

Moaning loud and breathless as he holds still inside you — not moving, not letting you adjust. Just letting your body feel all of him, swollen and thick, twitching deep in your gut like it’s daring you to cum on it.

Then he leans in, presses a hand over your mouth, and grins right in your face.

“If you think this is bad, princess… wait until I start moving.”

🖤 Harddom!Ni-ki who fucks you from behind with one hand tangled in your hair and the other pressing between your shoulders, spit sliding down your spine as he folds you flat and slams in so deep your toes curl—growling “Stay still while I ruin this pussy.”

Your face is pressed into the mattress.

One cheek smushed against the sheets, lip trembling, mascara streaking down your temples. You can barely catch your breath with the way he’s holding you — spine arched, knees tucked under you, hips up like a perfect little fuckdoll.

“Stay right there,” he growls behind you.

And then—smack.

His palm lands heavy on your ass, just to make it jiggle.

“Don’t move.”

You barely nod, body already buzzing, dripping between your thighs. But then you feel it — Ni-ki’s hand grabbing your hair, yanking it back hard enough to make you yelp.

“Fucking brat. You like when I manhandle you, huh?”

His cock is already nudging your entrance again—still soaked, still too thick, and now your poor pussy’s raw from being stretched open and slapped, swollen from how long he’s been teasing it.

But he doesn’t care.

He pushes in fast and deep, shoving you forward with the force of it, making your arms give out so your chest hits the bed with a whimper.

“Yeah,” he grunts. “That’s how I like it. Face down, ass up. Take it.”

And then he spits.

Right down your spine.

Hot and wet and filthy, sliding between your shoulder blades and pooling on the curve of your back before his hand smears it downward like it’s fucking lube.

He grabs both your wrists, pins them above your head with one hand, and leans over your back, his breath hot on your ear as his hips start to pound into you.

Relentless. Brutal.

Flesh slapping flesh, the sound obscene as it echoes around the room. He’s not chasing his orgasm. He’s not even focused on yours.

He’s just. Fucking. You. Dumb.

"You feel that, baby?” he pants, voice rough and dangerous. “That’s what a ruined pussy sounds like. You hear how wet you are? That’s all me."

You sob into the sheets, body jerking forward every time he slams in. Your legs shake. Your mouth’s hanging open. You can’t even speak — and that makes him smile.

“Dumb little whore. Not even making words anymore.”

He pulls your hair harder.

Spits again on your back.

And fucks you harder like he’s chasing the moment your body gives up completely.

“Better hold on, sweetheart. ‘Cause I’m not stopping ‘til this bed breaks.”

🖤 Harddom!Ni-ki who holds a vibrator to your clit while his cock is still deep inside you, hips moving in slow, deliberate rolls as you convulse under him—moaning “You said you could take it, right? Then take it again, princess,” while he slaps your thigh every time you try to pull away.

Your body’s not even yours anymore.

You’re flat on your back now, legs trembling and spread open, hair sticking to your sweaty skin, mouth falling open around sobs and moans that don’t even sound real. Your cunt is raw. Wrecked. Still fluttering from the last orgasm he ripped out of you.

But Ni-ki’s not finished.

He never is.

"You done?" he sneers, leaning over you, sweat dripping from his neck onto your tits as he looks down at your fucked-out face. "Awww, baby… too bad."

Because then the buzz starts.

Your head jerks back — a broken gasp leaving your lips as he turns on the vibrator and presses it directly to your clit, swollen and hypersensitive, nerves already fried from how many times he’s made you cum tonight.

And it’s instant.

Your back arches. Your legs kick. Your body starts to run away on its own — twitching and squirming under him like it knows what’s coming.

"Where the fuck you think you’re going?"

SMACK.

He slaps your thigh so hard it leaves a red mark and pins your legs back up.

"Stay still. You wanted to be a cockdrunk little slut, right? So take it."

He starts fucking you again, but slower this time — every inch dragging deep, stretching you with an obscene slick sound while the vibrator stays glued to your clit. It’s torture. Blinding, unbearable pleasure that builds too fast and too sharp.

You cum again.

Hard.

Your stomach tightens. Your whole body shakes. A scream tears from your throat.

And he just laughs.

"Look at that.” He slaps your thigh again, watches your pussy clench around him like it’s scared of the next wave. “Didn’t even tell me you were gonna cum. That’s rude."

You can’t breathe. Can’t speak. Just sob and whimper and beg — not with words, but with your eyes, with the way your fingers claw uselessly at the sheets.

And he keeps going.

“We’re not done. You’re not finished ‘til I say so.”

Another orgasm. You convulse this time, mouth open in a silent cry, thighs trembling uncontrollably.

He doesn’t stop.

Just pushes the vibe harder into your clit, whispers something filthy in your ear like:

"Be a good girl and squirt for me. I wanna see this pretty pussy cry."

And when you do?

He moans. Deep. Like he’s in heaven.

Like the way your juices spray and soak the sheets is the only thing he’s ever wanted.

🖤 Harddom!Jay who makes you kneel, perfectly still, for ten full minutes with your hands behind your back and your eyes on the floor—because you don’t deserve to touch him until you can prove you're worthy.

He hasn’t said a word since he walked into the room.

Just looked at you, jaw tight, black shirt clinging to his chest like sin itself. And then pointed to the floor in front of him—

One look. One command.

You dropped to your knees like the well-trained slut you’re trying to be.

But now it’s been minutes.

And he still hasn’t touched you.

He’s just standing there. Leaning against the desk. Arms crossed, watching your form like he’s studying a painting. Your knees burn against the hardwood. Your fingers twitch behind your back. Your eyes ache to look up at him—

But you don’t.

You know better.

“Still.”

His voice cuts through the room like a blade, sharp and low.

You freeze.

“Hands flat. Spine straight. You’re shaking.”

You swallow the whimper that rises in your throat. Adjust your posture. Chin down. Lips parted just the way he likes.

The air is thick with tension. Your thighs are sticky with arousal. But he doesn’t move.

He walks around you instead—slowly, deliberately—bootsteps echoing around you like thunder.

“Ten minutes.”

He says it like it’s nothing.

Like you haven’t already been trembling for five.

“Ten minutes of obedience. You hold that position, or you don’t get to touch my cock tonight. Understood?”

You nod, soft and desperate.

“Words.”

“Yes, sir.”

He hums. Low. Dark. Pleased. But still doesn’t stop circling you.

“You’ve been greedy lately. Touching yourself when you’re not allowed. Mouthing off. Bratting like Ni-ki didn’t already fuck the attitude out of you.”

His voice is a murmur now—right by your ear as he leans down.

“Do I look like him to you?”

You shake your head fast. “N-No, sir.”

“Damn right.”

Then he straightens, steps in front of you, and undoes his belt.

Your heart stops.

His cock is already half-hard—thick, veiny, flushed at the tip—and he doesn’t let you near it. Just holds it lazily in one hand, the other grabbing a fistful of your hair.

You blink up at him, thighs squeezing together, and he smirks.

“You want it?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then you wait.”

He taps the tip against your cheek.

“You wait until the timer runs out. Not a second before.”

Then he slaps it against your lips—once. Firm and slow.

And you know right then:

This isn’t about pleasure.

It’s about control.

And Jay has every last ounce of yours wrapped around his perfect fucking fingers.

🖤 Harddom!Jay who ties you down and edges you with slow, precise fingers—praising how good you look crying for it, only to slap your tits when you get too close to cumming. Because he wants you desperate, not satisfied.

You should’ve known the silk rope meant trouble.

Jay is methodical about it. Each knot tied with purpose, every pull snug but careful, wrapping you up like a pretty little gift he gets to open and ruin on his own time.

Your wrists are spread above your head, ankles bound to the corners of the bed, legs wide and shaking. The rope digs into your skin, soft but firm, leaving just enough room for you to squirm when he touches you—

And he will touch you.

Eventually.

He runs a hand down your stomach, cool palm skating over trembling skin, until he reaches your core—already soaked, swollen, and fluttering with need.

“You’re beautiful like this,” he murmurs, low and smooth, brushing his knuckles between your folds. “So exposed. So obedient. I could keep you like this forever.”

You gasp as two fingers slip in easily—slow, deep, curling just enough to make your hips jolt off the bed.

Then he stops.

Not a word. Not a sound. Just pulls his hand away, watching the way your pussy clenches around nothing and your lip quivers.

“You thought that was me being generous?”

He tilts his head, eyes dark.

“No, baby. I’m testing you.”

He leans down—mouth close to your ear, voice soft but deadly:

“Let me see if you can handle my love.”

Then he fucks you with his fingers.

Slow. Precise. Controlled.

Each thrust deep and deliberate, curling perfectly against your g-spot, his thumb barely brushing your clit like a tease, just enough to make you ache.

Your back arches.

Your mouth falls open.

You’re so close.

“Jay—p-please—”

Tears slip from the corners of your eyes, lips trembling with each breath.

And that’s when he stops.

Again.

And slaps your tits.

Hard.

One. Then the other.

The sting snaps through your chest and you cry out, thighs shaking in their restraints.

“Too greedy.”

He says it flatly, shaking his head in disappointment as he rubs the red marks with his palm.

“You’ll cum when I say. Not when your pussy decides to.”

Another slap.

And then his fingers slide back in.

Deeper. Rougher. Slower.

Dragging another orgasm out of you just so he can steal it again.

“You don’t cum until I say ‘now.’ Understand?”

You nod, sobbing.

“Y-Yes, sir—yes—”

“Then be good.”

He smiles.

And keeps going.

Until you’re shaking, whimpering, begging him to just let you fall apart.

🖤 Harddom!Jay who mouth-fucks you while one hand holds your throat, thumb pressing just enough to feel the bulge of his cock sliding in—because you’re at your most beautiful when you’re silent, obedient, and full.

He doesn’t ease in.

Not like before.

Not like when he was praising you for your tears and sighing at how sweet your pussy was.

No—this is Jay when he’s done being patient.

You’re kneeling again. Mouth open. Eyes already wet from being edged into delirium. You haven’t said a word since he told you to shut up five minutes ago—and now, with one hand in your hair and the other wrapped around your throat?

Jay’s fucking your face.

It’s brutal.

Rhythmic.

Calculated.

He thrusts in deep, hips rolling slow and deliberate as he watches your throat bulge with every inch of him. His cock stretches your mouth wide, too wide, saliva spilling down your chin in messy strings—but he doesn’t flinch.

His hand tightens around your neck.

“Mmm,” he hums low, dark eyes never leaving yours. “Feel that? That’s how far down you can take me.”

Your only response is a gag and a choked whimper—and that earns you a filthy grin.

“Don’t talk,” he murmurs, rubbing his thumb along the curve of your jaw. “You’re not here to speak. You’re here to serve.”

He rocks into your mouth again, slower this time, letting the weight of him rest on your tongue, your lips stretching, jaw aching, spit bubbling at the corners.

His thumb presses right over the bulge in your throat.

“There it is,” he whispers.

“God, you wear me so fucking well.”

You try to breathe through your nose, but his hand is still tight around your throat—just enough to make your vision swim, just enough to make your body shake with the overwhelming pressure of it all.

He moans.

A low, guttural sound as your throat squeezes tight around him and your eyes flutter like you’re about to pass out in pleasure.

“Fuck, baby,” he mutters, voice hoarse now, cock twitching between your lips. “You love being used, don’t you? You were made for this. Look at you.”

He holds you still for a beat—throat full, eyes glassy, drool soaking your chest—and then slowly pulls out.

Your mouth gasps open with a wet, gasping moan—tongue out, spit glistening, a perfect ruined mess.

And he just smirks.

“Open wider.”

Then he slaps his cock across your face again.

Because you don’t need air.

You need to be owned.

🖤 Harddom!Jay who makes you ride a dildo in front of a mirror while he watches from a chair, legs spread, stroking his cock lazily as he commands you to beg for the real thing—because you don’t get him unless you’ve earned him.

“Mirror.”

That’s all he says.

You know what it means—he’s already sitting in the armchair behind you, legs spread wide, shirt undone, cock in hand. He looks bored. Relaxed. Disgustingly composed while your whole body trembles from the overstimulation he already gave you tonight.

But this isn’t about mercy.

This is about proving you’re worthy to serve.

The dildo is mounted to the floor—thick, unyielding, and cold. It doesn’t twitch, doesn’t moan, doesn’t praise. But it stretches your poor pussy open all the same. You lower yourself onto it with shaking thighs, whimpering at the way it splits you apart again.

You feel his eyes on you before he speaks.

“Don’t look at me. Look at yourself.”

Your gaze snaps up to the mirror. And the reflection is obscene.

You. On your knees. Hips rolling slowly over the silicone cock. Breasts bouncing with every shallow bounce. Eyes already glassy. Mouth parted, drool slick on your chin from earlier. You look wrecked.

He smiles. Slowly.

Leans back and strokes his cock once.

“You want mine instead? Then beg. Show me what this pussy’s willing to do to get it.”

You moan. You grind. You ride that fake cock with everything you have, hands trembling as you grip your thighs for support, rolling your hips in circles, whining through bitten lips as your soaked cunt takes it again and again.

“Not enough,” Jay says lazily.

“You’re not even working for it. Don’t be shy now.”

You bounce harder.

Your ass slaps against the base of the dildo, your body jolting with each thrust, your eyes glued to your reflection as you cry out.

“Please—please, Jay, I need yours—I’ll be good, I swear—”

“Will you?”

His voice drops an octave.

“Because right now you look like a whore who’s satisfied with plastic.”

Your whole body tenses.

You grind. You ride. You sob. And when he finally stands, cock in hand, eyes locked on the way your cunt’s swallowing silicone?

He gives you one command:

“Stop.”

You freeze.

Breathing hard. Cunt pulsing. Eyes wide. Thighs trembling.

And he steps behind you, pressing the tip of his cock against your cheek, dragging it across your lips slowly.

“You want this?”

“Yes, sir,” you whisper.

Then he leans in and growls:

“Then ride my cock like you rode that one. But scream louder. I want the neighbors to know who you belong to.”

🖤 Harddom!Jay who fucks you without letting you touch him, pinning your wrists down with one hand while the other wraps around your throat—because this isn’t about your pleasure. This is about him owning you, using you, filling you so deep you forget who you are.

He gives you one command before he takes you:

“Don’t move your hands.”

And you nod, all wide-eyed and pliant, but you know better. You always reach for him. You always need to cling. So this time?

He doesn’t give you the option.

Your back hits the bed and before you can even blink, Jay’s on top of you, cock hot and heavy against your stomach as he grabs both your wrists and slams them into the mattress above your head.

He holds them there.

One hand.

Effortless.

The other hand snakes down to your throat, thumb dragging along your jaw, his expression unreadable. Focused. Almost cold.

“Keep them right here,” he murmurs, low and precise. “Or I’ll tie them to the fucking headboard and edge you for the rest of the night.”

You gasp—but nod. Breath caught. Body shaking.

He doesn’t wait.

His cock pushes into you in one slow, punishing stroke—stretching you wide open, your pussy clenching around him like it’s never been filled before. The stretch is perfect. Deep. Controlled. Unrelenting.

And you whimper.

So loud.

Your wrists twitch—instinctively—trying to reach for his arms, his shoulders, his back—

“Ah ah,” he warns, voice dangerous now. “What did I say?”

His fingers tighten around your throat, just enough to make you freeze. The pressure sparks heat through your core, making your walls flutter around his cock—and he feels it.

Smirks.

Rolls his hips again.

This time? Harder.

Deeper.

So slow it makes you cry out, head tipping back into the pillows, needing something to hold onto—

But you can’t.

You’re not allowed.

You’re just here to take it.

“You’re a good girl when you’re helpless,” he breathes, voice husky, gaze flicking down to where he disappears inside you. “No hands. No control. Just my pussy now, isn’t it?”

You nod. Fast. Moaning so loud it echoes off the walls.

He leans in closer, one knee pressing your thigh further open, and starts fucking you like he’s starving.

Perfect rhythm.

No mercy.

Skin slapping, mattress creaking, wet sounds of your soaked cunt being filled again and again.

Your mouth falls open. Your body writhes.

And still—he holds your wrists down, never letting you grab him, never giving you that last bit of comfort.

Because Jay doesn’t fuck you for your comfort.

He fucks you to remind you who you belong to.

And when he leans in to whisper in your ear, voice wrecked with control?

“You don’t get to hold me. I hold you. Now fucking cum on it.”

And you do.

Harder than you ever have.

Wrists shaking. Throat tightening. Pussy clenching around his cock like it never wants to let go.

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big-poppa23 · 2 days ago

Text

Echoes Of Silence Part Four

synapse: a failed rebellion and a new game. y/n has to make a choice and she’d learn her choices have consequences

pairing: kang dae-ho x deaf!reader

contains: death and spoilers for season 3 of squid game

a/n: one—fuck season 3. my eyes hurt from crying and good characters are ruined. two—dae-ho is the same person in this besides the lie he told, i will not ruin his character in this and three—im going to write two different endings and link them at the end, (they’ll be out soon) you pick one to go read…or go back and read both

. . .

Y/N had blacked out the last hour—not from unconsciousness, but from sheer mental overload. She hadn’t spoken, hadn’t signed, hadn’t even written anything down. She just sat there on Dae-ho’s bunk, her fingers gently tracing slow circles into the back of his hand, her grip a quiet, grounding presence between them.

The world blurred at the edges as grief and fear weighed heavy on her shoulders. Her only tether to reality was the way his hand remained in hers—warm, trembling, human.

She only moved when the heavy steel doors creaked open. Two guards walked in, silent as ever, carrying a massive box wrapped in pink ribbon. They placed it squarely in the middle of the room before exiting without a word, the door groaning shut behind them.

She blinked slowly, watching as Jun-hee, Mrs. Jang, and Hyun-ju approached the box with caution. Hyun-ju knelt, fingers gripping the edge of the lid before sliding it off. Inside was a familiar figure, bruised but breathing—Gi-hun.

Still alive.

Y/N started to slide off the edge of the bunk to check on him, but before her feet hit the floor, Dae-ho’s hand wrapped around her arm. She turned to him, startled, only to find his eyes wide with unspoken fear.

He shook his head, then lifted his trembling hands. ‘Please don’t leave me.’

She hesitated for only a heartbeat before nodding. Quietly, she climbed back up beside him, resuming her place as they watched Hyun-ju and Yong-sik carry Gi-hun to a nearby bed.

The room settled into a deep, heavy silence. No one spoke. No one cried. It was the quiet that came after something had broken.

Then, Dae-ho gently shook her arm. She turned to him as he signed, slow and unsure. ‘I have something to tell you.’

Her brows furrowed. ‘What’s wrong?’

He looked down, shoulders curling slightly inward. ‘I trust you,’ he signed, hesitating. ‘And I don’t want you to be upset with me for what I’m about to tell you.’

Y/N leaned in, heart tightening. ‘You’re scaring me.’ She scooted closer, her hand lightly brushing against his arm.

He let out a sigh, dropping his head onto her shoulder like the words were too heavy to carry upright. “It seems like you’re all I have left,” he whispered aloud, his voice rough and low. “I don’t want you to be angry with me too.”

‘Tell me,’ she signed softly.

He lifted his head and looked at her. ‘I… lied.’ His hands moved slowly, the signs halting. ‘I was never in the marines. I’ve never even held a gun before today.’

Y/N blinked, startled. ‘But the tattoo…’

‘I was a social service personnel. All I did was basic military training for three weeks and then went to go help people where I could. I just got the marine tattoo so people like my father and the people here wouldn’t look at me like I’m weak. So…I kept up with the lie. Even here. I just… wanted to feel like I belonged.’ He looked up at her with anxious, searching eyes. His walls were gone—just a boy sitting in front of her, raw and afraid. ‘Are you angry?’

She didn’t respond at first. Then, slowly, she shook her head.

He tried to speak again, signing quickly, nervously. ‘People died and it’s my—‘

She grabbed his hands, stopping him mid-sentence. Her eyes met his, steady. ‘If you got the magazines, then what? Hyun-ju and you probably would’ve died. And as much as it sucks that people did… I couldn’t handle it if you did too.’ She let out a long breath before continuing. ‘You matter to me. Lie or not. Marine or not. I care about you.’

His lips parted slightly, his breath hitching as emotion welled up in his chest. His eyes shimmered—glassy with tears that refused to fall. He blinked hard, trying to keep them at bay, but one slipped down anyway.

She caught it with her thumb, brushing it away gently. And in that moment, there was no death, no games, no guards or guns—just the two of them. Choosing each other in the middle of hell.

Dae-ho shifted without a word, his body moving slow and deliberate as he slid down the bunk until he was lying flat, his head resting gently in her lap. For a moment, he stayed still—unsure if she’d let him, unsure if he was even allowed this softness in a place built for cruelty.

But she didn’t move away.

Instead, her fingers slipped into his hair, raking through it in slow, soothing motions. Her touch was light, almost reverent, and it grounded him more than anything else had in days. He exhaled, eyes fluttering closed, letting himself sink into the quiet, into her.

And then—he felt her lean down, her breath warm against his ear.

“I…got…you…” she whispered, the words so soft, so hesitant, he almost thought he imagined them. He had to strain to hear, had to cling to every syllable like a lifeline.

But he heard it.

Coming from her—her—a girl who hadn’t spoken a single word aloud since they’d met, who had lived in silence but moved through the world with quiet strength… those three words meant more than any promise he’d ever been given.

His breath caught, a sharp little hiccup of emotion buried deep in his chest, and he turned his face slightly into her leg, not to hide his tears but to be closer to her warmth.

He didn’t speak. He didn’t need to.

. . .

Everything passed in another blur.

The guards had returned, their voices void of emotion as they recited the latest prize count—how much each remaining player would receive if the game ended now. It didn’t matter. Not really. Not after what they’d seen. Not after what they’d lost.

Gi-hun, chained to his bunk with raw wrists and haunted eyes, had begged to be killed. The guards didn’t flinch.

Then came the vote. Another shot at ending it all. Another chance to walk away.

And once again, the O side won.

The game would continue.

For dinner, they were handed sweet potatoes—dry, lukewarm, and almost too bitter to swallow. And through it all, she never left Dae-ho’s side.

She ate beside him. Sat beside him. Slept beside him.

When the lights went out, she curled up next to him in his bunk, listening to the silence. The heavy, suffocating silence that only seemed to get louder as the next game loomed closer.

But once his breathing evened out and his chest rose and fell in the rhythm of sleep, she quietly sat up, notebook in her lap, heart thudding with every word she wrote.

Dae-ho,

If you're reading this... it means I didn't make it.

I didn't want to say goodbye this way. Not through pen and paper. Not in silence. But I needed you to know... I'm not afraid, not really.

Not if it means you're still breathing.

You always told me that I was brave. That I didn't need a voice to be heard. But the truth is, / only found my strength in you. Every time you looked at me and signed like I was the only person in the world... I felt human again. Alive. Like I mattered.

You gave me something this world never did — safety. Even in this nightmare. You made the noise disappear. You made my silence beautiful.

I want you to know that I kept going because of you. Every step, every breath. And now, if this is the end for me, I hope it's because / stepped in front of something meant for you. I hope I died the way you once lived-for me. Because if someone like you survives, then maybe there's still something good left in the world.

You never needed to learn my language. But you did. You fumbled through every sign just to tell me l wasn't alone. You saw me. Not the girl who couldn't speak. Me.

But if something happens to me in the next game... I just want you to know that I don't regret a single moment. Not the pain, not the fear, not even being here. Because I met you.

I'm scared. I won't lie. But if I die... I hope I die protecting you. The way you always step in front of me, like it's instinct. The way your eyes find me first. I hope when my time comes, you remember me as someone who tried to do the same. Even if you never knew how much I wanted to stay by your side. Even if I never got the chance to show you how deeply I cared.

But if this is where my story ends... then please let yours keep going. Win. Live. Fall in love with someone kind. And think of me sometimes, not with pain - just a soft smile.

You are the only person in this nightmare who made me feel human. Worth saving.

Thank you for that.

And if by some miracle we both survive this—

Please don't forget me.

With all the pieces of my heart that I could never say aloud,

-Y/N

Just in case.

This was her goodbye.

Her fingers trembled as she scribbled the final sentence. She glanced down at Dae-ho—peaceful, unaware, his arm resting in the space she’d just vacated—and sighed. Carefully, she tore the page from her notebook, folded it neatly, and tucked it into the inside pocket of her jacket.

If anything happened tomorrow… at least he’d know.

She felt eyes on her.

The kind that burned.

She turned her head slowly, and her gaze locked with Gi-hun’s.

He sat on the cold floor, still handcuffed to the metal bunk, his body sagging, but his eyes—his eyes were sharp. Cold. Angry.

He wasn’t looking at her.

He was looking at Dae-ho.

She followed his line of sight, then looked back at him. She gave a slight shake of her head, small and pleading. Don’t.

Gi-hun’s glare didn’t soften.

Her throat tightened. She lied back down beside Dae-ho, trying to calm her racing heart. A shaky breath slipped from her lips as she pressed herself close to him, her arms wrapping protectively around his waist.

And as soon as she touched him, Dae-ho stirred. Even in sleep, his instincts reached for her, his arm sliding around her without hesitation. He pulled her close, close enough that her face pressed into his chest, and the weight of the world—if only for a moment—felt just a little lighter.

. . .

The staircase felt colder than usual—silent, the kind of silence that pressed in on your chest. The remaining players moved slowly, each step heavier than the last. Y/N ascended first, Dae-ho just behind her, his hand lightly brushing the back of her jacket for reassurance.

But as soon as Y/N reached the landing and lifted her gaze—she stopped cold.

A strangled gasp escaped her lips, sharp and horrified, before her hands flew to her mouth. Her entire body stiffened as her eyes widened, filling with tears.

Above them, strung from the center of the ceiling like butchered puppets, hung the players who had joined Gi-hun’s failed rebellion. Their wrists bound, their bodies limp—lifeless. A brutal message, put on display. And among them…

Jung-bae.

Her stomach twisted. She couldn’t breathe. Her vision blurred as grief threatened to overwhelm her, but the sound of footsteps behind her snapped her back to reality. She turned quickly, just in time to see Dae-ho reaching the landing, his expression puzzled, eyes starting to lift—

No.

She surged forward, grabbing his shoulders firmly, startling him. He froze under her touch, concern flickering across his face.

She shook her head hard, eyes glassy but commanding. Her hands moved fast, urgent. ‘Keep your head down. Look at the ground. Don’t look up.’

Dae-ho blinked, startled, but nodded. He trusted her—completely. He reached for her hand and gripped it tightly, letting her lead him as they walked carefully up the stairs, his gaze focused on each step. He didn’t dare look up.

And then came the voice—emotionless, mechanical.

“You are witnessing the fate of those who refused the democratic process of voting and instead attempted to stop the game using violent means.”

Dae-ho clenched his jaw, but he didn’t look. He didn’t have to. Y/N had already shielded him from that horror.

His grip on her hand tightened, a silent way of saying thank you.

She didn’t respond—not with words. She just kept walking, never letting go.

The room buzzed with low, simmering tension, the heavy yellow lighting casting everything in a sickly hue, as though the space itself had caught a fever. The players stood still, eyes fixed on the centerpiece of the room—a giant gumball machine, absurdly bright and colorful amidst the grim reality of the Games. It looked like something torn from a child’s dream and dropped into a nightmare.

Inside the glass dome, dozens of glossy plastic balls tumbled: red and blue. No words were needed to make it clear—this was a separation. A line drawn in color.

Each player was to step forward, turn the crank, and accept the fate handed to them.

No one spoke.

Y/N waited her turn, each player ahead of her stepping back with tight jaws and haunted eyes after drawing their color. When it was her turn—the tenth—she moved slowly, her footsteps a hollow echo on the polished tile. Her fingers, stiff from dread, curled around the cool metal handle. She turned it slowly. The sound of plastic shifting within the machine was jarring against the silence.

Clack.

The ball dropped into the tray with finality. She reached for it with hesitant fingers.

Red.

A breath slipped from her lips. She wasn’t even sure what it meant yet—was red better? Worse? Was Dae-ho already blue? The questions tumbled through her head like the balls in the machine.

Then she heard another set of footsteps behind her.

She turned.

Dae-ho was next.

Her chest tightened.

He stepped up, his jaw tense, his eyes already flicking toward her, like he was trying to will the machine into giving him her color. She watched as his hand touched the crank.

He turned.

Clack.

He bent, picked up the ball, and held it in his palm.

Blue.

Y/N’s stomach dropped.

Her eyes locked with his, and for the first time in all their shared silence, all the promises and whispered reassurances—they were separated.

She swallowed hard.

And for the first time since entering the Games, she wasn’t just scared of what they were about to face.

She was scared of what they might lose.

The room was split down the middle like a war line—red vests on one side, blue on the other. The air was dense with anticipation, heavy with dread. Guards stood like statues, faceless, as one read the rules aloud. Another stood beside him, signing everything for Y/N. She caught every gesture, eyes locked in hyper-focus.

Hide and Seek.

Thirty minutes. The blue team must find the exit…or stay hidden until time ran out. The red team was to hunt. Eliminate as many blue players as possible. If they failed to do so, they would be eliminated themselves.

Red couldn’t kill red. But…

There was one exception: before the game began, opposing players could swap roles—if both sides agreed.

Y/N’s hands tightened around the box they’d given her. Cold metal nestled inside. A knife.

Across the room, she spotted him—Dae-ho. He was speaking quickly to another red team member, trying to trade. Desperate.

She moved before she could think, weaving through the others and tapping his shoulder.

He turned, his eyes lighting up at the sight of her—then dimming when he saw what she was offering.

She held out her box. ‘Let’s trade.’

Dae-ho looked down at the box, then back at her. “No,” he said, firm and immediate. His hands moved swiftly. ‘You need this more than I do.’

‘I’m not going to hunt down blue team while you run around unarmed,’ she signed back, her motions sharp. ‘Take it. Please.’

‘No,’ he signed again, stepping back. ‘I want you to live. Blue team is a death sentence.’

‘Dae-ho, please…’

He shook his head again, this time slower, his jaw tight with emotion. ‘If I trade with anyone, it won’t be you. You need to survive this. You have to.’

Just then, the announcement came. Robotic. Unfeeling.

“The game will begin momentarily. Blue Team, please get ready to enter the arena. Let me repeat…”

She couldn’t hear it—but she saw it in his expression. It was time. The line was forming. One by one, the blue team stepped forward, moving toward the open gate that led into the labyrinth beyond.

Dae-ho took his place in line, biting his thumbnail, visibly shaking.

But she wasn’t done.

Y/N approached him again. Still clutching the box under one arm, she stepped close. He shook his head immediately, reading her intention, but she didn’t offer the box again.

Instead, she reached for his hand.

‘I’ll kill who I need to pass. And I’ll find you,’ she signed. ‘You can have my knife then.’

His eyes dropped to their intertwined fingers. He gave her a nod, slow and pained.

She hesitated, then pulled something from her pocket—a folded piece of paper. The note. She slipped it into his jacket.

‘If I don’t make it… read this.’

He inhaled shakily, holding back the emotion flooding his chest. Then without warning, he pulled her into his arms, crushing her against him in a hug that felt like goodbye.

“Come on, hurry up! You’re holding us up!” Player 411 barked.

Dae-ho didn’t move.

When he finally pulled back, his hands lingered at her arms.

She looked up at him, searching his eyes—then leaned in and gently pressed a kiss to his lips.

Their first.

It was soft, unsure, but heavy with everything they couldn’t say aloud.

As she pulled back, she signed: ‘Be safe.’

Dae-ho nodded, eyes bright. He turned and followed the rest of the blue team through the gate and out of sight.

Her breath hitched.

She looked across the red team, her eyes meeting Gi-hun’s—dark, furious, his attention never once having left Dae-ho’s back.

Her heart thundered.

She glanced down at her knife box, the weight of it heavy in her hands.

She could keep it. Keep her promise to Dae-ho. Kill if she had to. Survive.

Or…

She looked at the last few blue team players waiting to enter. One of them looked barely eighteen, trembling.

She could switch to blue. Get inside. Keep Dae-ho from being alone. Maybe protect him…or die trying.

The choice was hers.

And time was running out.

And that was when she chose to…

Stay with the red team.

Or...

Approach the last blue team member to trade.

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