Stay Bbh

stay • bbh

Request: Hi! Could you write a mafia Baekhyun and pregnant reader? Baekhyun doesn't want the baby but reader resists. Angst things but happy end please.

Warnings: mafia!bbh, pregnancy, slightly controlling bbh, mentioned whipping, mentioned face punching, implied abortion

—————

“How long did you think you could keep this up?”

His narrowed eyes are fixed on you as you squirm uncomfortably under his gaze. You know he’s angry. He’s seething, actually, but he looks calm, lounging comfortably in his chair, slouched in the scratched leather as he absentmindedly twirls his rings around his rough, coarse fingers. His posture says he’s bored but his face is focused and serious.

You shrug, eyes anywhere but on him and he sighs. “Look at me,” he says. His voice is cold, words sharp as he scrutinises you. When you finally meet his gaze he softens slightly and you half expect (hope) him to praise you, to call you a good girl and pat your head. Maybe even pull you into his hold and tell you it’s all alright. But he doesn’t. He just nods, satisfied at least, and motions for you to speak.

“I don’t know,” you whisper. Your hands absentmindedly stroke across your slightly swollen belly and it catches his attention. You watch as his gaze falls on you and for the first time in a while you seriously consider getting up and running because he regards you with pure and utter contempt.

“I thought you were smarter,” he says. “Thought I made you smart but I guess I was wrong.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. Your grip on your belly tightens almost protectively because you know how volatile he is, how uncontrollable he is when he’s angry, and you know he’ll hurt you if he has to. He has before, on occasion, to protect you, he said, and you know as he glares at your shaking hands that he views the baby inside you as a threat. What’s worse is that he’s probably right — a pregnant mafia wife is a threat to everyone. It inflates the target already on your back and puts him at greater risk for it.

“Get rid of it,” he says and you shake your head instantly. You’ve seen a lot of horrible things as his wife but you will not see any harm brought to your baby. His baby.

“I’m not getting rid of it,” you snap, voice as cold as is safe around him. “It’s ours.”

His hand twitches slightly and you unconsciously edge away from him, retreating further into the safety of the chair. You know he wants to hit you. You hear it in his voice, in his pursed lips and calculating eyes. He hates back talk, despises when you don’t obey but he seems to have gathered that for you to have gone to such lengths to hide this, this is something he can’t beat you into submission on. He cannot control you here, cannot expect your usual obedience and that only makes him more angry.

“You’ll put yourself in danger,” he says. “And you’ll put that… thing in danger, too.”

“It’ll be fine,” you say. “With you to protect it. Just like you protect me.”

“No,” he says, voice raised and firm. “I won’t. I can’t.”

What comes next seems to take both of you by surprise. You don’t mean to shout. He’s taught you to fear disrespecting him, to fear putting even a toe out of line so your raised voice as you yell “For fuck’s sake, Baekhyun!” takes you both by surprise. Your words are followed by a whimper as you realise your mistake. You’ve watched people die at his hands for less, and were you anyone else you know you’d already be bleeding out onto the floor right now. And whatever protection your relationship affords you doesn’t stop him fingering the gun in his belt, eyes dark.

But he doesn’t lunge for you like you feared he would, or summon his men to set you straight as he’s done before — you still have marks set into your skin from his right hand man Loey’s frightening skill with a whip — he doesn’t do anything, actually. He just carries on talking, as if he hadn’t heard you at all.

“I won’t protect that thing in you,” he continues, “and as long as it’s there, I won’t protect you either.”

You balk. “What?”

Now you want to lunge at him but he’s already standing up— apparently this conversation is over. “It’s your choice,” he says. “I hope you’ll make the right one.”

————

You don’t see him for a few days. Apparently you’re both ignoring each other, refusing to give in or even discuss a matter which in both of your minds has already been decided on. The only indication that he’s even thought about the situation, or you, at all, is his men’s grumblings to each other about how ‘Boss is extra angry lately’. And if you were skeptical about low-level complaints, the appearance of the first bruise you’ve ever seen on Loey’s face confirms it. He might work for Baekhyun, but you know from their interactions that Loey is the closest thing to an equal your husband allows himself. So when he drops by your room with a black eye and gritted teeth it sobers you. This is really bothering Baekhyun. So much so that he’s actually… upset?

“Upset is one word,” Loey grumbles. “The fucker decked me in the face.”

Over the years you’ve become almost friends with Loey — or the closest thing you can have to a friend, because your husband insists on keeping you all to himself — so you’re only slightly worried when a laugh slips out at the incredulous look on his face. He raises an eyebrow and a dirtied hand twitches, but he seems to find it sort of funny too.

“It serves you right,” you say. “For fucking whipping me.”

He smiles slightly, shrugs but his lips purse at the memory. “Boss’s orders, wasn’t it?” He mumbles. “You shouldn’t have tried to run.”

You roll your eyes when he looks away and it’s silent for a second before he speaks. “Talk to him, will you? Sort this out? He loves you but he wants to kill you right now, so he’s taking it out by killing us instead.”

“Well he can keep doing that,” you say. “Because I’m not killing our baby.”

He shrugs. “Then someone else will.”

You stare at him for a moment until you grasp the meaning of his words and jump back from him, shocked, terrified of the both of them. “Is that why you’re here?” You shriek, clutching your belly in horror and for some reason the fucker laughs.

“Of course not,” he says, “come back.”

You eye him suspiciously but relent, breathing evening out as you cautiously settle back on your bed, this time on the opposite side to him. He snorts. “Even if those were my orders, I’m not doing shit for the old man until he apologises for this.” He gestures towards his bruise, still grumbling to himself and you giggle.

“What, then?” You say. “What should I do?”

He sighs, shakes his head. “I don’t know. I told him his life wasn’t for you.”

He doesn’t let you respond before he’s left the room, door slamming shut. You slump against your pillows, one finger tracing patterns across your belly. You grab your hand, stopping yourself as you turn over on your side. You feel tears forming but your body won’t let them shed. You know what you need to do.

————

He doesn’t even greet you before he launches into questioning, voice emotionless as he asks if you’ve gotten rid of it.

You nod almost dumbly, still in shock. You don’t want to think about this. The whole time you’ve loved this man you’ve fought not to be seen as a silly little trophy wife, but now that stereotype is all that holds you together. You’ve resigned to act as though you have no idea what happened, what you did, in the hopes that your conscience might follow the same tune and forget.

He smiles, the first you’ve seen since he learned of your condition. He pulls you down into his lap, gently pushing your head into the crook of his neck as he strokes up and down your back. “Good girl,” he whispers. “My good, good girl. So brave.”

You want desperately to let go, to let yourself cry and scream and feel something, but you know you can’t. You’ve made your decision — you chose him. He’s pleased. He’s loving. His words are all that matter.

Almost two years to the day, you find yourself staring at another positive pregnancy test, but this time he’s right beside you, kissing the tears of joy where they fall down your cheek. This time, it’s his hand that lies on your belly, that cradles the child within. Protecting it, loving it. Loving you. You made the right choice.

—————

A/n: first request posted! Thx anon, hope this is what u wanted!!! Pls comment and reblog! It rly motivates me to write more. Love xx

omg hi do you take fic requests ??

YES!!!!!! I love requests and have no inspiration or ideas rn so pls leave some !

Writing some more stuff rn…. One shots and a couple series. Pls give me a sign if you’ll read them bc I do not know if im reaching anyone yet🫶🤞

hii can i request size kink + manhandling with chanyeol please? maybe the reader is around 158cm tall?? idk i want him to dominate me uwu

I got smth for u >:) go look bby

pent up • pcy

Request: hii can i request size kink + manhandling with chanyeol please? maybe the reader is around 158cm tall?? idk i want him to dominate me uwu

Warnings: size king + manhandling obviously, fairly dom!chanyeol, some slapping, pent up aggression kind of, unprotected sex (don’t), breeding, not proofread sue me

—————

The sound of the door closing wakes you up. You look up at the TV, still droning on and realise you must have fallen asleep waiting for him.

He’s been working a lot lately, always coming home late with flowers and an apology. You’re never mad at him, knowing it’s you that he works so hard for, but damn do you miss his touch. The roses piling up in the dining room can't compare to the feeling of his hands on you, running up and down your body, worshipping you, owning you. It’s been too long since you’ve laid shivering beneath him as he hovers over you, eyes dark and wanting.

You huff, pulling yourself up from the couch to greet him, finding a brave face to disguise how much his absence is weighing on you, on your body. You find him by the door still, kicking his shoes off and muttering to himself. “Yeol?” You whisper.

He turns quickly, softening slightly at the sight of you, wrapped up in his hoodie that nearly reaches your knees, but his eyes are dark, expression grim. He’s home later than usual, so it must have been a long day, and he looks pissed. If you hadn’t gone so long without his touch, you might feel bad that your first thought is how good, how animalistic the sex is when he’s pissed.

“What happened, baby?” You ask him.

He scoffs. “Piece of shit album just won’t fucking finish,” he mutters, voice rough and frustrated. He stares at your hoodie, eyes narrowed. “Take that off.”

You blank for a second, confused. He normally likes it when you wear his clothes. He loves how they dwarf you, make you seem even smaller than you already are compared to him. It’s only when you meet his gaze, see the fire, that you realise why he wants it off. Finally, you think.

You slip out of it hurriedly, letting it fall, your heart racing. It’s been so fucking long since he’s looked at you like this, eyes all hunger and control as he stalks towards you. His hand lands softly on your hip, covering it completely. You gulp. He’s so big. Every last bit of him.

“You’re shaking,” he says. “It’s been that long, huh?”

You nod and he sighs, grip tightening. “I’ve neglected you, baby,” he says. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you say quickly, but you’re so desperate it sounds more like a squeak. His mouth quirks upwards, a brief smile.

“Little mouse,” he whispers. “Gonna make it up to you, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you breathe, eyes wide. He smiles again, soft and brief before his expression hardens. He shoves you slightly, nodding in the direction of your room.

“Go,” he says, and you’re so desperate you’re not even embarrassed at how fast you run.

You hear him on your tail, stalking after you like prey and fuck have you missed this so damn much. He’s gonna make you feel so small, so weak, so vulnerable beneath him, just how you like it. Just how he wants you.

He closes the door behind him, gaze fixed on you. Sometimes he’d have you on your knees by now, or crawling across the floor towards him, but it’s been weeks for him, too, and he’s as desperate as you. He doesn’t hesitate as he darts towards you, doesn’t hold back as he slams you into the soft bed. His grip on your hands is strong and unrelenting but he knows you’d never try and fight back; no, when you’re like this, you don’t move a muscle without his permission.

“How d’you want it, sweetheart?” He mutters. “I left you so long, I should make it up to you.”

You shake your head quickly. “No,” you whisper. “I need it hard. Fuck me like you haven’t in weeks.”

He cocks his head, grinning darkly. “I haven’t fucked you, in weeks, baby. It’d be way rougher than normal.”

You smile, your little face a picture of innocence compared to your words. “Exactly.”

“Alright,” he says. “You’ll take it all then.”

He doesn’t give you a chance to respond before he flips you over, pushing your face into the pillow with one hand while the other lifts your hips, pulling your legs apart. You feel his breath on your neck as he gets closer to you, moving your hair to whisper lowly in your ear. “You’re gonna keep your body exactly the way I put it,” he mutters. His hand tightens in your hair. “Aren’t you, baby?” You nod, and he shoves your head further into the pillow before letting it go.

“Don’t lift your head, baby,” he says. “Just feel it.”

The hand that was in your hair trails down your body, towards where your ass is in the air, millimetres from his crotch. You hear him unzip, freeing himself from his jeans before his cock is pressed against your hole. You gasp, jerking when you feel the tip press into you slightly and he slaps your thigh, stilling you.

“Not even done anything,” he mutters. “Quit moving.”

You nod, making a noise of acknowledgment and he squeezes your ass. “Good girl,” he says. “Gonna put it in now.”

He doesn’t wait for a response before he slams into you, arm snaked under your hips to hold you still and close to him as he starts to thrust. You scream into the pillow, overwhelmed. You forgot how ridiculously, monstrously large his dick is. It hits your spot every time, fast and hard and without mercy. Maybe it’s just that you haven’t been fucked in weeks, but it seems like he’s somehow gone even deeper than normal, stretched you even further than normal. It feels like the first time again, like a virgin hole ripped open by an unrelenting hungry cock. His arms grip your torso as he leans over you, sucking at your neck as his thrusts get faster and deeper.

“Oh— fuck!” You scream, writhing in his hold.

His hand moves from where it was squeezing your tit to slam over your mouth and nose, keeping you quiet and heightening every sensation. He doesn’t relent, content to have you screaming into his palm as he fucks you like a madman. He’s whispering in your ear too, filthy things, but you’re so fucked out and overwhelmed that you barely hear him. The only thing you know is the feeling of him slamming into you, over and over and nearly inhuman in his strength.

He pulls out with a slap to your ass, but you know he’s not done. He flips you hurriedly, crashing his lips against yours and kissing you like he’s struggling for air. His hand grasps the back of your head, dwarfing it while the other guides his cock back into you. You moan into his mouth when he starts to thrust again, lifting your legs up to give him leverage to go deeper.

Rough sex seems to give you flexibility you never normally have, because he moves your legs up by your head with ease and still the only thing you feel is his cock. Your eyes are closed, too weak to open until a slap to your face wakes you.

“Look, baby,” he whispers, eyes awed and completely feral. “Your stomach.”

You look down and feel yourself tighten around him at the sight of his cock through your stomach, so big and deep you can see it move. “Fuck, Yeol,” you yell. “Fuck, you’re so big.”

He groans, huffing with a particularly hard thrust. “You’re just fucking tiny, baby,” he grunts. He speeds up again, grip iron on your hips. “Fuck, fuck, you’re so fucking small, fuck,” he chants. “Gonna come in you, fuck.”

You moan, hands wrapping around his back to pull him closer to you, your face buried in his tight chest. “Shit, Yeol, fill me up,” you moan breathlessly.

That seems to do it for him, weeks of need and aggression coming out as he unloads in you with a strangled yell. He fucks your through it, never ceasing in his thrusts even as his come spills out of you around his dick. Your own orgasm quickly follows, one of the biggest in memory, and you collapse into the bed. He falls next to you, breathless and covered in sweat as he pulls you into his arms. He runs a large hand up and down your back, slowly lulling you back to reality.

“Fuck, baby,” he breathes. “I missed my little girl so fucking much.”

You missed him too.

—————

It’s been a long ass time I know sorry y’all I started uni and it’s fucking hard like?? I rly gotta work and shit. Anywayy thank u anon for the request I loved it and I rly do think we all need to get manhandled by chanyeol sometimes. Working on the other requests after this and keep them coming! Requests are still open! As always reblogs and comments especially are so appreciated. And thank u chanyeol for being very easy to write size king about. Love<3

Do you write yandere

Yes!