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toomanythoughts4myhead · 4 months

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Woven from the same thread

[Part 2] [Masterlist]

Summary: Coriolanus Snow hungers for control, what will happen when he gives up it up for his own good? What will happen when he finaly meets his match?

Pairing: Sub!Coriolanus Snow x Dom!reader

Warnings: gaslight, gatekeeper, girl boss; dumbification; Coriolanus Snow, mentioned of death and bombings, manipulations.

A/N: purely an excuse to write for submissive Coriolanus. I love me a controlling obsessive man, but I love him more on his knees crying.

Coriolanus Snow who decided getting a cute rich girlfriend would help him in life. He wouldn't love her, he'd discard her immediately the moment he managed to get into university with the plinth prize or if he simply found someone better.

Coriolanus Snow who saw you and your sweet smile and charming innocent eyes and decided that you were going to be his personal piggy bank.

Coriolanus Snow who tries charming you with pretty words and gentlemanly actions, providing as much as he can muster with his unexistable budget. An occasional white rose or a pretty origami would be thrown your way, but that's as far as he could afford to go.

Coriolanus Snow who realizes too late you are a snake like him.

Coriolanus Snow who gapes in horror at you in your lavish room at your parent's penthouse after you reveal it all to him. Telling him how you saw his thinning frame and hollow cheeks, the acidy breath from hunger and the lack of presents or money spent on you had given him away. It was all a hypothesis but his reacting confirmed it.

Coriolanus Snow who is frozen in place, his deepest fear of getting closer to someone and having them find out of his poverty hidden in plain sight made his pale skin loose all semblence of color.

Coriolanus Snow who is on the verge of dropping on his knees and begging(he should) but you run a hand along his jaw and propose a deal. He is the smartest boy in the Academy, presentable and well mannered, he will continue to be your boyfriend and you will keep your mouth shut and wallet open for him as long as he plays by your whistle. It was left unspoken that if he stepped out of line you would air his dirty laundry with no hesitation.

Coriolanus Snow who becomes your personal dog, no matter how much he hates it. You wrote him a check to buy his family some food and pay his rent, as a starting sum, with one of your credit cards.

Having a pretty smart boyfriend was a dream come true for you. Having said boy and holding an unimaginable power over his every move was all you ever wanted. You and him shared the same poison, the same thirst for power, you knew that. But he hadn't, and that is what brought him to his demise.

He lost the battle. He lost the war.

Coriolanus Snow who does all the stereotypical "perfect boyfriend" things. He carries your books, opens the doors for you, pulls your chair out, kisses your forehead sweetly and holds your hand. He was perfect, at performing in public at least. Behind closed doors he still had his bite, no matter how good he could act his ego got the best of him.

You would break him soon enough

You started it small.

Phase 1:

Giving him small commands first in public, where he couldn't let his bravado fall. Telling him to wait for you, to not move, to lift that, do that, etc. Later you did it when there were people of your age or older around. Clearly showing off the power you had over Coriolanus, he had to obey you, his families apartment depended on it. He wanted to snap and not do it, to show he is in fact his own master, but how will he explain to granma' am and Tigris that they had to live on the street because his girlfriend/sugar mommy was too bossy?

Coriolanus Snow who was left to marinate in his own embarrassment in silence, feeling all eyes on him as people's perception of him change. From a proud heir to one of the most important business for the Capitol to a lovesick boyfriend who was his girlfriends servant, with a smile on his face worst of all. He was starting to get used to it. This had been going on for months now, the habit was starting to get rooted deeply.

Phase 2:

It was still a small jump but you started to give him shorter orders, one word commands, expecting him to know what to do- and he did. You'd say "open" and any door would be trust wide open and held for you. You'd say "hold" and thrust whatever you are holding to him without a spare glance. Maybe in the past he would have thrown the expensive purse or books while looking you dead in the eyes like a statement but now he simply waited for you patiently.

Coriolanus Snow who actually threw your books in a fit of rage once and ended up penniless for a month. He had to come to your house timidly after receiving no calls on the private phone you had bought him and no reply as he blew up your line.(he could only call your number and couldn't add or remove it. who else did he need to contact?)

Coriolanus who had to face greater humiliation than what he was used to, as he walked across the private party thrown by your parents, looking for you. The pitiful looks he got wobbling around in his academy uniform, even outside school as he asked around for you. People must have seen him as a kicked puppy, looking for his owner. It wasn't completely false.

Coriolanus Snow who found you in a secret room pointed to him by your mother who had cooed at him pitifully, used to seeing him waddle after you almost daily. You were sitting on large chair behind a wooden desk, looking over some documents. Your gaze snapped to him as he entereed, the faint yellow light from the lamp illuminated his face and made the miserable look in his eyes and blush in his cheeks ever more evident.

He had gotten to eat so good, first class meals, you'd even send a private chef over to his house to cook for him when he was especially good. He had gotten greedy and now going back to slurping bean juice felt unimaginable.

"Your rent is looking ever the higher. Its not looking good."

He hadn't(didnt) want to think about this as he slept on a cold matress, their heating had run out. He missed the taste of luxury. He would do anything to get it back.

"I made a mistake, y/n."

He knew he should do more. He knew you'd like to see him beg and squirm but he didn't think he could handle any more of this if he did. He had felt so much pressure, so such stress to find some food, to worry about rent, to hide the eyebags under his eyes, the humiliation from tonight was almost too much.

"Come here, Coriolanus."

Your voice rang out cold and commanding, but never demanding. You had too much power over him to demand. You pulled the chair back and it's wheels creaked, you put a hand on your thigh in a wordless command. Coriolanus wobbled a bit shakily, trying to maintain some form of dignity as he walked to you. He came to a halt between your legs, looking down at you and creating a shadow over your form. It should have made him feel better, to be in one way on top, but it didn't, he couldn't delude himself anymore, he knew he had no control.

What had you done to him?

"Kneel"

It took him a few seconds but he dropped slowly to his knees, one leg at a time until he was at eyelevel with your knees, sitting on his hinges, since he knew he'd be down here for a while. He stared stubbornly into your eyes, his pale blue eyes shone almost angelically paired with his pink lips. Your pretty puppy, it almsot made you smile. It almost made you forgive him, almost.

"You disobeyed me, Coriolanus. I told you there would be consequences."

"I know, y/n, i know, i wont do it again. I promise."

"I dont believe you."

You say and pick the document you had been reviewing before. You bring them close enough so he can read them too. They were charts and documents of increasing rent money for the apartment building his penthouse was in, the wages of the workers where Tigris worked, a paper with the retirement money his grandma got, paper with the money the country gave him as a compensation since he had lost both of his parents. All the money that his family got and had to spend.

Coriolanus who skims the papers but even the breif look of the numbers told him what he already knew.

He had no future without you. The Hunger games had gotten canceled this year since the death of Felix, the presidents son, the Plinth prize had gotten withdrawn. He had nothing, he could do nothing.

"I gave you everything, Coriolanus. Was your pride worth your future?"

He feels his gaze get hazy, the panic was starting to set in. He had come here to get you back, sure that he would be able to do it, but now he could almost taste your rejection. He was starting to get scared and panicked. He needed you.

"It wasnt- it isnt. Y/n, I made a mistake, plase forgive me. I wont do it again."

He shuffles closer to you subconsciously, looking up at you as his voice grew hoarse. His pride long gone, thrown out the moment he saw the consequences. You place a soft hand on his hair, gripping it gently and he feels the golden ring on your finger, the one with your family's crest made from pure gold, rest heavily on his scalp. You tilt his face up to look at you.

"Beg. Show me how sorry you are."

His mouth opened immediately, no hesitation to beg for you. Maybe he should feel shame to be thrust into this position but all he felt was hope. If you were willing to hear him out it means there is some chance he could get you back.

"Im sorry, y/n, im so sorry. I was stupid, i was greedy, i was arrogant. I wont do it again. Im yours, please"

He hadn't realized he had started crying until his tears pooled and fell, warm and salty, against his lips and on the material of the chair, his long blond lashes clump togetger and his lips redden, the tear streaks down his cheeks and neck glisten in the light and he looks like a painting.

You decide you like him like this best, begging at your feet and crying for your love.

You coo at him sympatheticly even as a smile tugs the corners of your lips. You caress his beautiful locks of hair and wipe his tears away only to lick your fingers.

"My poor baby, no need to cry. Im here now, you remembered where you belong, its okay now, you are okay now."

His breath grows labored and his face twists in pain as more tears follow, he burries his face into the bare skin of your inner thighs and sobs loudly. All the stress had caught up with him. The responsibilities, the fear, the hunger, the thought that he'd lose his anchor, the thought he'd lose you.

Your guidance, your attention, your love. He didn't need to worry anymore, he didn't need to fret and plot to stay at the top, simply being known as your lover was enough. You were the second richest family in Panem, after the President. Coriolanus held much more power than he ever had on his own. People respected him more and he got the cushiony life he had always dreamt of.

He was safe.

His family was safe.

You let him cry, cooing calming words of reassurance as you caress the nape of his neck and the curls of his hair. His big shaky hands envelope your thighs and he holds onto them for dear life.

You knew he would come crawling back once he saw that you meant business and weren't bluffing. It had taken him longer and you respect his resilience but he had funaly come to his senses and back into your arms. A part of you felt a pang of empathy for him, for the poor boy underneath all the masks and facades he had on to survive in this world. You knew when it came down to it he would have murdered him, to remain the shell of the person he is. You don't feel bad for Snow. You felt bad for Coriolanus.

Poor, caring, driven Coriolanus, who might have been good if not for the poison and hunger and fear he had been forced to shoulder.

But you are here now, so he wouldn't have to worry anymore. He can be good. You'll make sure he is your good boy.

Phase 0:

Coriolanus is a smart boy, he probably could predict all the steps of manipulation you had come up with, what he probably hadn't anticipated were the rewards. The additional money, delicious food, new clothes, you'd even found a better job for Tigris (not good enough to pay for the rent ofc). The small touches you'd offered him and the lack of discrimination against his poverty. You'd treated him good and given him a lot.

How could a boy who's only had things taken from him begin to expect anything else? The mentality of take or lose had kept him alive this long, but maybe you wanted to give. He had shared with you in a night of vulnerabilities about his family. How his mother and unborn sister died, hiw his father died, how he was left with only his grandma and Tigris almost broke to survive.

Coriolanus had a lot of potential to be your loyalest dog or biggest enemy depending on how you let him flourish.

That's why you had bought him a phone to call only you, made him dependant only on you, talked with your parents and together you'd managed to cancel the Hunger games, throwing all the district tributes back in their homes, far far away. Especially Lucy Gray, the songbird who was on her way to charm Coriolanus. How you'd agreed the money from the plinth prize should be used on fixing the damage done by the rebelion bombings.

Coriolanus wasn't a good person.

You were simply better at being bad.

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ohimsummer · 2 months

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RANDOM HORROR GAMER! SATORU HCS

— one(1) suggestive under the cut so minors dni, gamer! gojo x reader, established rs, explicit language, some gamer! reader, pet names (sweetums, baby, (my) love), the link has body horror!!, horror-loving gojo in general <3

⭑ ࣪ ˖ sum’z notes.ᐟ gojo playing outlast and resident evil and silent hill and fnaf and and

horror gamer! satoru who always likes you around whenever he starts playing. doesn’t matter if you’re cooking, showering, or out for the day—and prefers you in his lap while in his comfy gaming chair, but if you’re even just on the bed nearby then that’s totally okay, too.

horror gamer! satoru who finds it so cute when the jumpscares actually startle you. laughs when you let out a yelp or a scream, giggling a ‘relax, baby’ as if his heart didn’t stop for a second at the same scare.

horror gamer! satoru who asks your opinions and recommendations on what games to play, even if you know nothing about them. if he’s stuck between two games, he’ll let you be the tiebreaker, shoving the two options in your face for you to choose from even if your reasons are inane. ‘you like the art on this one better? the title sounds cooler? okay, come check it out with me!’

horror gamer! satoru who finds it comforting whenever you’re cuddled under him while he plays. your scent and the warmth of your body soothes him, makes the scares a little less frightening and he calms down way quicker when he gets to hug you so tight. (refers to you as his emotional support y/n)

horror gamer! satoru who’s just about always eating his words about how terrified the game is making him. talks so much shit going ‘oh this dumbass monster isn’t even that scary’ and you just like to humor him even though you can feel his heart pounding in his chest.

horror gamer! satoru who enjoys when you also talk a little trash with him. ‘i could totally take that monster on, right, baby?’ ‘hell yeah, it looks weak as shit, you could destroy that thing.’

horror gamer! satoru and you both frantically talking over eachother when he gets to a fast-paced area of the game, parts that require swift puzzle-solving or thinking quickly on your feet. ‘fuckfuckfuck where do i go, where do i go ?!’ ‘that way, THAT WAY, no the other way, oh my god, run!!’

horror gamer! satoru who likes handing you the mouse/controller and watching you play. guides you through some parts when you get confused, and always returns your victorious grin when you’re able to get past the really scary or difficult areas by yourself.

‘look at my baby gettin’ through the little mini-boss after 26– ow, fine, 18 tries! so proud of you, sweetums, guess my super-awesome gaming skills are rubbin’ off on ya, huh?’

horror gamer! satoru who lets you get jumpscared even when he knows a scare is coming up. ‘didn’t wanna ruin the experience for ya, baby’ while he’s almost spitting out his water from trying to hold back laughter.

horror gamer! satoru who you have to gently drag away from his setup when he starts getting frustrated. he’s been stuck on this one part for hours now because of rng or the boss is just ‘stupid and rigged’ and insanely hard. you can see his jaw clench, his moves getting sloppier in his exasperation.

horror gamer! satoru let’s you pepper kisses up and down his neck, over his jaw and cheeks, on his forehead as you murmur suggestions to take a break in his ear. you hold your own drink up in an offer for him to take a sip, before slipping away to grab one of his favorite sweet treats to hopefully ease his frustrations. ‘give it a rest and come cuddle with me for a bit, my love, you can always try again later.’

horror gamer! satoru who buys another controller (in your favorite color) so he can play co-op horror games with you. he loves watching you improve, proud when he doesn’t have to carry you as hard anymore. and it feels so much more fun because it’s like you’re experiencing the scares together, not the same as when you’re just watching him play.

horror gamer! satoru who goes horror game-hunting with you. he loves that your interest in them has grown so much, and you two can actually talk in detail about them since your ‘horror knowledge’ isn’t at base level anymore.

horror gamer! satoru likes that you’re not just watching him play and listening to him explain what’s going on anymore. you’re more heavily intrigued in the game lore and spotting tiny details or references in the games.

you’re playing a multiplayer horror game with satoru, exploring a different room of the house since you two have split up to cover more ground.

‘oh, wow! satoru, look at this little figure on the desk!’

his avatar makes its way over, and he’s a little excited to see the tiny evil within 2 reference on the piece of furniture.

‘it’s obscura, isn’t that so cool?’ ‘fuck yeah, wonder if there’s any more hidden around here somewhere?’ and you both keep an eye out for any other allusions to more horror game characters.

horror gamer! satoru who convinces you that playing in the dark is so much better. and it is, it makes the whole experience that much scarier, and you hate (love) it. you find yourself peeping into the dark shadows of the room, goosebumps raised on every inch of skin. and also wanting to punch satoru in the throat when he grazes a finger up the nape of your neck, laughing at your fright when you just about jump out of your skin.

horror gamer! satoru who buys little trinkets or figures of horror game characters. bought you a silent hill nurse figurine to go next to his of pyramid head. you both dressed up as said characters for a Halloween party once, and then ended up, um, undressing eachother in someone’s bathroom later that night…

horror gamer! satoru who knows all kinds of horror game trivia and he loves exchanging facts with you, even if you tell him stuff he already knows. again, he just loves that you share his favorite interest! tell him over and over about how [char.] is your favorite horror game villain or how [song] makes that scene so much creepier! he will eat it up again and again and again.

horror gamer! satoru who gets so excited whenever you present a new game to him, especially if it’s one he hasn’t seen before! ‘holy shit, baby is this a new release? fuck, we have to play this tonight!’

a casual (horror-themed) date night with horror gamer! satoru could be going out to see a new scary movie in theatres, or even just staying in to play your favorite horror games together. on nights like those, he likes to suggest cheesy, parody, or nostalgic horror games like slenderman or some .EXE game.

tagz: @anthoosies @staryukis @hellkaiserinphoenix @biscuitsngravie @elusivemoon @rxddxvotion @babytoshiii

#satoru gojo headcanons #gojo satoru headcanons #jjk headcanons #gojo headcanons #satoru headcanons #gojo x reader #satoru x reader

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lethalchiralium · 6 months

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Dial Tone | Happiness Series

a/n: here we go.

warnings: kidnapping, babies, mentions of pregnancy and sickness, mentions of violence. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. 18+.

summary: It’s the afternoon, rain thundered against your home so you couldn’t hear the footsteps that backed you into a corner.

PREVIOUS << | >> NEXT | SERIES MASTERLIST

“Repeat after me. Stay within sight.”

“Stay in sight!”

“Have fun.”

“Have fun!”

“Don’t play with boys.”

“That’s not fair!”

Simon smiled under his face mask at his four year old, her curly hair unruly after she pulled off the sock cap she demanded to wear earlier. “I’m kiddin’, love. But stay in sight of Mum or I.” He pulled her little hand, forcing her to come close before he pressed his cheek to her forehead. She squirmed and he let go, a mumbled, “Okay.” was the best he was gonna get from her.

Winnie ripped her light coat off, tossing it into her father’s lap before she sprinted away to play on the playground with the other kids her age. Simon watched her intently, detail in his memory how she smiled at every kid who passed her by. She’d wave, begin to speak, and play with whatever kid was in the closest vicinity. She certainly didn’t learn social expression from him.

He sat back on the bench, his spine prickled with displeasure as he tried to relax. It seemed to be reflex for him to be on edge - straightened back, clenched fists, jaw so tight it could be wired shut. It was windy, not too many parents weren’t out and about to let their children play on a Tuesday afternoon; school was in session, plus this park was off the beaten path. Hidden and safe, just how he preferred. There were about four kids playing with Winnie, only two sets of parents.

Your hand then settled on his thigh, warmth pooled in his belly as he looked down at your perfect hand. A bracelet gently hung from your wrist, your preferred metal with four colored gems. It was your latest gift from your husband, it meant so much to you - having the four birthstones of your family on it. He was proud of how you smiled when he gave it to you, upset that he made you cry - even if it was tears of joy. He settled his cold hand over yours, you laughed a little.

“Your hand’s freezing, Si.” Your shoulder pressed against his, his nose scrunched a little as you squeezed his thigh.

“Sorry.” He mumbled, moving to pressed a clothed kiss to your hair. “Didn’t think it’d be this cold. Shoulda worn gloves.” There was a small sneeze, Simon looked down at your lap to see Mellie, bundled up and warm as she watched her sister play. With his free hand, he poked her button nose - she giggled before she leaned back, trying to get a glimpse of him.

You squeezed his thigh again, watching your oldest like a hawk as you gently spoke, “I’ll hate you forever if you miss Winnie’s birthday party.”

Simon smirked. “I won’t.” He wouldn’t miss it for the world.

“Or your birthday party.”

He rolled his eyes, his good mood began to sour but he took in a breath, flushing it from his system. He always knew you mean well, even when you drop things like this, knowing he doesn’t want a party since he swore them off at nine. So, he changed the topic. “Why haven’t we had one for yours?”

“I’ve had plenty of them, Simon. You haven’t let me throw you one. And the ones you told me about, they weren’t good.” You rubbed his arm then looked up to him. With your best puppy eyes, you asked, “Please let me throw you one so I can show you how fun a birthday can be.”

“…Fine.”

“Thank you.” You placed a kiss right where his lips were - no matter the mask, you always knew where to kiss his lips. It’s like they were magnetized to fit his perfectly. “You know, there was this post I read the other day, talking about kindness and gentleness doesn’t need to be so flowery and gentle like the movies.” Your hand turned to hold his, linking your fingers together as you turned back to watch your daughter on the playground. Simon couldn’t tell keep his eyes off of you, hanging on every word you said. “And I thought about you.” There was a moment where Simon felt warmth flush his cheeks, his chest, his hand that held yours. “I think about my 21st birthday and how you made me cry when you walked in that restaurant, you were nervous and your tie a bit crooked - that was kindness.”

“That was love.” He corrected, his voice gentle and low. “I loved you since that day. You were so happy to see me.”

“I was. I always will be.” You squeezed his hand, the one you were never scared to hold. “I think about how you bring me things you thought I would like, and I always do. It’s like you’re in my head, like you know everything about me.”

Simon smiled under his face mask. Not the small smile he would usually show you, the cheek straining smile that would make your face ache after a while. “I always want to know everything about you.”

You sniffled a little, a small laugh left your lips. What he couldn’t see were the warm tears that threaded down your cheeks. “I didn’t spend too much time on the post because I thought about how you were cold to me when we first met. And how you have changed so much since then, in such little time. That…” You sniffled again, leaning your head to rest against his shoulder once more. “That I loved you enough for you to recognize that you’re safe with me.”

He squeezed your hand, pressing his cheek to your hair.

“Just like how you’ll always be safe with me.”

He let go of your hand, moving to settle it on Mellie’s chest - her little gloved hands instantly grabbed his fingers, moving to chew on one of them. He didn’t mind. Your hand squeezed his thigh again.

“Ten more minutes, then I want to go home.”

He nodded a little, cheek still pressed to your hair. “Whatever you want, my love.”

•••

You barely got any sleep. With a crying Mellie who wouldn’t settle down and a clingy Winnie, you were amazed you had gotten a wink of sleep when you woke up at 7am to a cry of discomfort from your baby.

You checked the time, noticing that you had a couple of notifications but tossing your phone back on your nightstand before pulling Mellie into your arms. Her little fingers scratched at your sleep shirt, which was one of Simon’s old shirts, and her little face was buried in your neck. Her forehead felt so much warmer than last night, you were almost instantly in the bathroom - with one hand, you wet a washcloth with cold water. A gentle movement of Mellie’s head and the wince of a cold washcloth on your neck gave you chills. You pulled it away from her nose and mouth, holding it to the top of her head to try and give her relief and cool down her temperature.

“Mama?”

You looked up to see Winnie sitting up on your bed, her hand rubbing her eye as she started to wake up.

“Yes, baby?” You asked, Mellie still crying on your chest.

“Wanna sleep more.” She toppled backwards, dragging your pillow over herself. If you weren’t so worried and tired, you would’ve cackled, you did give her a small laugh. You looked back down at your baby, whose little face was scrunched up as she cried. You were swift as you made your way out of your room and downstairs, hating that you were most likely waking everyone in the house-

“Morning.”

Laswell was already sitting at the kitchen table, coffee on a coaster as Roach sat beside her, eagerly scarfing down a bowl of Cheerios. You were startled a little, not used to more than just Simon in your home. You made your way to the medicine cabinet. “Sorry if she woke you guys up, she-“

Laswell interrupted you. “She’s fine. Don’t worry about her, she’s still a baby.”

That made your heart swell a bit, you whispered a gentle, “Thank you.” You grabbed her medicine, preparing her syringe of bitter liquid while you heard the front door open and close. Heavy boots that sounded nothing like your husband’s entered the kitchen, you didn’t even glance to know that it was König. He was taller and most likely heavier than Simon, so it made sense he would also be louder. You were sure he was making noise to ease your mind.

“Guten Morgen.” He spoke, Laswell mumbled something into her coffee as you sat the baby on the counter in front of you. She sat up, face still stained with tears and her wails turned into whines as you took her little hand - you administered the medicine, Mellie gave a sour look and her eyes swelled with tears again. Not long after, her whines turned into wails again. There was no winning.

You were quick when you grabbed a small snack for yourself, carrying your infant back upstairs. The only plan you had was to keep a cold cloth against her head and debate whether or not taking her into A&E was a good idea. She’s terrified of new people, she’s screaming and crying non-stop, you weren’t sure if the added stress of new people would do her any good. But at least she had some prospect of getting some relief from this.

You swiftly gathered a cold wash cloth, Mellie grabbing your hair and t-shirt in distress as you did, wailing. You didn’t react to the hair pulling, you squeezed the water out from the cloth into the sink before letting the small cloth rest on top of her head. The baby squirmed, squealed, and whined - but the wails instantly ceased. Her tear stained face looked up at you before she slammed it into your collarbone, you winced in pain. “There we go, girlie. That’s gotta feel good.”

Winnie was still passed out in the middle of your bed, snoring away. You brought your baby back towards the bed, sitting down on it so you could keep an eye on both of your girls. Whines escaped Mellie for a few more moments before she finally calmed down, your hand cradling her head and arm holding her to your chest. You kissed her head then leaned back onto your pillows, trying to fight the exhaustion in your body but it was too much. Your eyes fluttered closed with your five year old beside you and your almost one year old finally napping on your chest. With every breath, you felt more comfortable - even with how much your head and lungs hurt, you would always feel comfortable when your girls slept beside you.

•••

“Paying attention, LT?” Gaz whispered from beside your husband. Ghost threw him a dirty look in a casual side eye, going back to marking up his map as Price continued to present on the mission. Ghost’s phone was in his hand, he was waiting for a call or text from you, like you usually do. It’s not abnormal for you to forget, Mellie can get clingy and he knows first hand how demanding Winnie can get.

“More than you are, Sergeant.” He answered, pencil dragging across a section of London suburbs where the target was likely to be hiding. Brent and Tower Hamlets. He vividly remembered finding his father on the streets in Tower Hamlets, fucked on some drug but still conscious to recognize that his thirteen year old son shouldn’t be in London. Simon still has that scar on his forehead from how hard his father hit him that night. The pencil skritch-ed around in a circle, those two suburbs seemed the right area the target would hide in. Easily to slip in and out of alleyways, a lot of drug activities and violent crime. When you’re an outcasted former Russian Mob drug mule, you can’t exactly sip the finest champagne on a balcony in The Ritz.

There was something bugging him in his head. Something he was missing. He had gone through his Ghost rituals in the car on the way to base, then on the plane to the small Piccadilly Circus safe house. Simon was not even a thought in his mind, nothing about Simon’s life was supposed to be distracting him - yet, all he could think about throughout this meeting was you.

How scared you must have been, giving birth to Mellie alone all those months ago. How hurt you were when you had lost your son. How happy you were that Simon finally got to know that you were pregnant again. How you were graceful in knowing he was leaving again. How he could recognize the pain in your eye when he told you, how his heart felt like it was being repeatedly stabbed when he watched you fight back tears.

Simon loved you. Ghost was not meant to love. He was meant to be a soulless monster, but after the nine months he spent at home with you and his children, the lines between Ghost and Simon Riley seem to bleed together. Where the mask couldn’t cover seemed to stay the devoted husband and father, while underneath the fabric balaclava, Ghost was ready to find his prey like the hunter he was.

“Dismissed.” Price’s voice broke Ghost from his thoughts, he instantly closed his folder of information and stood. He shuffled out of the briefing room, his hand crept to his phone in his pocket.

One phone call wouldn’t hurt.

•••

You felt nauseous when you woke up, but it passed easily after you sat in your dry bathtub, cheek to the wall of it. Maybe Mellie’s cold was passing, you wouldn’t be able to function if morning sickness caught you this time. You narrowly escaped it with Mellie and with your miscarried son, so you were genuinely praying you wouldn’t be throwing up every chance your body had for the next three months. Your baby monitor sat in your hand, Mellie was placed in her crib around 9am when she finally cried herself to sleep.

Laswell and Roach had taken Winnie to the park after lunch, which Laswell was gracious enough to make. It seemed the three operators were comfortable in your home, it made the stress of it all seem to ease. König stayed behind, stating that he was here to help with Mellie - which you thanked him but told him it wasn’t necessary. He had a job to do, which was to protect your family until the whole… whatever was blowing over. You weren’t sure if it was necessary that they were there, but after coming face to face with your supposedly non-existent father-in-law, the added security was more than welcome.

You only had one more day until the doctor’s appointment, you had given yourself by mid-afternoon to decide to take your daughter to A&E to get checked out sooner. If she got worse, you’d pack up your self, your baby, and your security detail and go. But now, you were cleaning up Winnie’s room. Making her bed, putting away what little toys she had gotten out.

It seemed like last week that you were putting a ten month old Winnie down for a nap, nestled in her Winnie the Pooh themed nursery. Now her soft yellow walls were a soft green, a color Winnie begged for to her father. He bent with little resistance, now she gets to hang her drawings of flowers and dinosaurs on her green walls. It wouldn’t be long before Simon would paint Mellie’s room whatever color she wanted, then the last upstairs room from its nursery yellow to your last baby’s favorite color. Your hands gripped Winnie’s duck patterned comforter, tucking it up to her pink pillow. You patted the soft object, just reminiscing on how much your life had changed in such little time.

There was barely any time for you to rest in your daughter’s room before you heard your baby begin to cry. You rose to your feet, moving out of Winnie’s room and crossing directly into Mellie’s nursery - where a cool breeze brushed through the room. Your eyebrows furrowed.

The window was open.

Mellie had stood up in her crib, hands gripped onto the side and screaming, face full of little tears. You were over to her in only three strides, pulling her up into your arms. She was still so warm, you were very worried now - you bounced your baby on your hip for just moment before you made a move towards the changing table. “Oh baby, baby, Mama’s gonna help.”

You tried to lay her on the table but she rolled towards you, still screaming and crying like someone was burning her ears off. “I know, honey, give Mama just a second-“

Something in your head clicked. Your hands instantly picked up your daughter, running your hand over her hair to try and smooth her as panic settled into the center of your chest. You needed to hold her, something in your body demanded you keep your hold on your daughter.

The window was open. When it wasn’t before. You did not open it, you would have heard her door opening on the baby monitor if König had come up to open a window. You never even thought it could be opened, you never tried. You took a step back, going to turn towards the door of the nursery. If you get downstairs quick enough, you may be able to warn König to tell Laswell and Roach not to come back. To keep Winnie away.

There was a loud thud from downstairs, your heartbeat in your throat as you heard it again and again and again. The air around you turned cold, goose flesh invaded your skin as you held your breath, waiting for König to come upstairs and tell you it was a false alarm. Mellie’s crying was loud in your ear, but the voice that came from downstairs was deafening.

“Y/N! RUN!”

You took one look towards the door and solid metal was pressed against the back of your head. Your body went still, your daughter screaming in pain right next to your ear. You heard a gunshot muffled by the walls of your home, your eyes squeezed shut as you cradled your daughter closer. With your heartbeat in your throat, you heard a low growl,

“Don’t move.”

••••

Simon pulled the phone away from his ear, watching the time begin to tick as your voicemail began to play.

“Hey love, I know you probably napping with the baby but jus’ wanted to check on ‘er. And you. Love you, see you soon.”

He settled the phone down on the table of the mess hall, a late lunch was what he was used to with planning extensive missions. Price gave him a curious look from across the table. “You usually don’t call her.”

“I know.” He answered, metal fork pushing around mushy peas on the tray. Something was scraping away in his chest, he couldn’t place the feeling.

“The girls will be fine.” Price assured Simon, taking a bite out of his stew. “There’s two operators and Laswell there. If anything were to happen, your girls would be safe.”

Simon glared at Price. “Still don’t appreciate being called in from my paternity leave.” The fork pierced a piece of cut up potato, eyes never leaving Price’s face.

“You didn’t have to agree.”

“If I didn’t, I’d get a disciplinary.” Simon took a bite of the stale potato, it was bland and soggy. “Can’t exactly lose my only income for my family.”

The table jostled as Soap ripped a chair out from beside Ghost, he didn’t even react as Soap dropped into his seat and his tray clattered onto the table. He began to chatter with Price, a happy smile on his lips and he ripped apart his bread roll to place on half on Simon’s tray. Simon took his phone back into his hand, opening it to a picture of his daughters. He gazed at it, tracing the shadow on your hand as it held up Mellie - your engagement and wedding rings glittered in the sunlight. He could remember that small smile on your face from that picture.

There’s no need to worry. They’ll be fine.

join my taglist!

taglist:

@idkwtftitbh

@blingblong55

@local-spidey

@sanfransolomitatm

@frazie99

@Awilan

@cosmoscoffeee

@khadeejarh

@tutuwusworld

#lethalchiralium #lethal chiralium #happiness series #simon ghost riley #simon riley #call of duty #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x wife!reader #simon riley x wife!reader #simon ghost riley x afab!reader #simon ghost riley x fem!reader #simon ghost riley x f!reader #simon ghost riley call of duty #simon riley call of duty #simon riley mw2 #simon riley x f!reader #simon riley x fem!reader

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chosaya · 9 months

Text

❛ ━━･❪ ᴄʜᴏꜱᴏ ᴀꜱ ᴀ ᴅᴀᴅ ❫ ･━━ ❜

Choso would be the perfect dad for his child. He is so excited to have a child that he can love and care for. You were just squirming around in your baskent crying and Choso would hold you in his arms with his palm resting against your head reassuring and shushing that your dad was here. He'd rock you in the chair of the nursery promising that he'll protect you no matter what, and he's going to be the best dad for you.

Dad! Choso who always spoils the hell outta you, he buys the cutest baby stuff for you and gets matching outfits for the two of you. I can see Choso taking you to the park when you get a little older to walk on your own and having a father bond with you.

Dad! Choso, who gets emotional when he brings you home from the hospital, shows you the beautifully decorated nursery covered in little pastels colors and cute little stuffed toys to make you feel more comfortable.

You're probably just looking around cooing at him, tugging at his long black stringy hair tied in two ponytails, some stray pieces of hair in his face as he gently places you in your crib reaching his hand up to turn on your crib mobile with various things attached to it. He's humming you a lullaby, holding your small chubby fingers gripping around his large ones. You squirm around for a while before falling asleep with a stuffed bunny in the other.

Choso carefully removes his hand from yours so he doesn't wake you up, pressing a soft kiss on your forehead and tucking you in with the blanket. He steps around any scattered toy’s on the floor and quietly puts them into the basket before making his way out of the nursery.

Dad! Choso, who tells you how proud he is when you take your first steps towards him without falling over, he's so supportive the entire time you walk to him.

Dad! Choso, who always does your hair in the cutest styles to match him, he calls you “mini me” because you look up to your father so much and want to be like him when you grow up.

Dad! Choso who takes you to visit uncle itadori and gojo. Itadori is the best babysitter whenever choso drops you off at his house, he loves playing hide and seek with you and overall pampering you. Uncle gojo on the other hand takes a million pictures and tries to get you to say his name, you're just looking at him confused when he does this.

Dad! Choso who’s very protective of you and always keeps you at his hip.He always makes sure you aren’t being targeted by other curses more powerful than him, he couldn’t bear the thought of losing his only child and doesn't want it to happen anytime soon.

tags @luxesiren @kazushawty @satoruhour @yourrfavzxri @hoshigaby @livthebestone @neptunes1nterweb @theemrsjaeger @cybercandy1 @bachiraw @preciousamethyst @okhotel @k2ssland

@lowkeysumgyall @mcondance @blkshoyo @blkwriters @potofstewie @wickedwitvh @violxtbxbyy @ncentic @cu7ie @honeybleed @hon3ybee-3 @roronoazorosbxtchh @roronoaswifey @getoscrybaby @junevenile @jujuyii @chrollohearttags @dilfl0v3rss @kingkonoha @jellymantra33 @saintblk @tojis-discord-kitten @gardenof-venus @luvs-wrld @gyal-bunny @cvberidiot @beniswife @cosmicdoechii

#choso x reader #choso x black y/n #choso x y/n #choso fluff #choso x you #choso kamo x reader #choso kamo fluff #jujutsu kasien choso #jjk fluff #jjk anime x black reader #x black reader

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the-dumpster-fire-of-life · 11 months

Note

hi! how are ya? I just drop in your blog and I just sooo in love! I was wondering if you could write hcs of dating Gwen stacy from spiderverse? thanks a lot!!!

(sure I can! I must warn you though this turned into a fic.)

Dating Gwen Stacy

You guys met in her dimension

You guys had to be good friends before you guys even considered dating

It's either a slow burn, or a love at first sight she tried to avoid

I don't even think she knew it was love at first, she saw you, felt something and tried to stay away from it

But then she couldn't, and you guys took time to be one good friends

When she first noticed she had feelings for you it was awkward as hell

She didn't know what to do about them at all

Was staring at you as you talked, and tried to play it off laughing awkwardly when you caught her

But most of all she just wanted to be around you

Makes time the best she can even if it's for a little bit

When you guys did get together, it was hella awkward at first

She still didn't know what to do

It was a very slow process she needed to get comfortable with

But it was the absolute best when you guys got the hang of it

Cheek kisses, hand holding, regular kisses

I feel like she loves hugs from behind, especially surprise hugs because she instantly knows it's you

Doesn't matter who's hugging who from behind, she loves either way

She leaves a lot of clothes at your place

Because she is constantly doing quick changes she leaves clothes everywhere

You found out she was Spider-Woman

She did not want to tell you at all, especially because so many people thought she murdered Peter

So when you found out she was terrified, was about to leave as quickly as she could

She is the one to run away before she can get hurt, or leave before the chance to be hurt even comes around

You stopped her though, and she is forever grateful you did when you did

Cause she didn't know if she was even gonna come back

Sneaks into your bed after a fight as Spider-Woman

Or if something happened with her dad

She didn't talk, she just wanted to be by you in bed

She got so close to you every time because she wanted to know you would still be there when she went to sleep and woke up

There were very rare times she cried

But when she did, you were always there to hold her or comfort her or just be there while she cried it out

She secretly loved that

You guys are very much so teen love

You guys sneak out to see each other, run around the city, have no idea what you guys are doing most of the time but just glad to be together

Hiding out in abandoned places or on the rooftops of buildings are your dates

Or sometimes you guys will go to a cafe, but she likes small and little dates

A little hopeless romantic I'm not gonna lie

She can sit between your legs and have you play with her hair for solid hours

She remembers very small details about you

Like if you pick at your hands or nails, will hold your hands to help you out with that habit

You like some drink or some specific food?

She gets it for you everytime

Favorite color, animal, how you create to certain things, how you like your stuff arranged, she remembered every small detail

She is a very teasing partner

Doesn't outright say I love you even if she wanted to

It took a long time to say she did

Let's you steal her clothes while she steals yours

Your closets are just combined at this point

Will sit and let you mess around with her hair, she's just glad to stare at you with a smile when you do

Likes watching movies on the couch with you all the time

Movie marathons with just her head on your lap, laying down and you both throwing commentary at the screen

Kiss her forehead or her lips while her head is in your lap

Trust me. Do it.

Can talk about absolutely anything and everything with you

But the most important moments in your relationship are the quiet ones

Like when she shows up at your door, just standing there

Don't say anything and just take her in

Those are stuff that mean the most to her

You guys goof off constantly

Doing each other's homework in subjects one sucks in but the other is great in

You guys cannot take anything seriously

You were her absolute embodiment of her own vision of her own true love

She didn't think you would come along when she was going through tough times, but she's glad you did

She would've stayed with you forever

Would've

She had to leave you behind in her universe, she didn't want to, but with her dad, she did

She didn't see you for a long time, and your last goodbye wasn't meant to be a goodbye

She was in the Spider Society, and she refused to go back

One, because of her dad

And two, because she couldn't face you after leaving you behind with no warning for months

Until more shit went down with Miles, and Miguel sent her home

She had to face her dad, and she had to face you

You thought your eyes were failing you, dtsnding in your doorway.

You wanted to believe, you wanted to. You hoped for months this would happen, but once it did you couldn't move.

Gwen, your Gwen, stood in your room.

The Gwen you spent so long loving, comforting and holding when she and you both needed it.

The Gwen that left without a trace, with a goodbye that wasn't meant to be goodbye.

So you could only stare at her, watching her anxious face as you stared with a blank face, her eyes scanning you over in all the differences and similarities since she had left.

"I know. I know- it's bad." Gwen stumbled over her words, walking forward a step as she held her hands out.

"But- (Name)." Gwen tried once again, more panicked at your silence than your yelling or your words.

Gwen panicked even more as you finally moved, letting go of the door handle to walk closer to her.

"Look! I know you hate me, I would too!" Gwen kept talking, refusing to walk backwards as you got closer and closer.

"But I didn't mean to leave, honest!" Gwen stated, words faster and faster as you now stood right in front of her.

"Oh, come on! Say something!" Gwen exclaimed, your silence scaring her as you merely stared.

You stared right at her, never looking away as her face begged for you to say anything.

You merely sighed, a more angry and relieved one, quickly pulling Gwen into a hug, much to her shock, holding onto her like you would lose her.

Gwen froze, her arms frozen at her sides, hesitant to do anything as she felt your head in her neck, no sound but your breathing and no movement but the rising of your chest.

Gwen slowly, but surely wrapped her arms around your back, her own eyes filled with fear and somewhat comfort as she finally could hold and be held by you again.

"I thought you were dead." You finally spoke up, your words muffled by Gwen's shoulder.

"And I thought you would hate me." Gwen quipped back, holding the back of your head and her arm around your waist as she reveled in your touch.

"I do." You stared, both scaring Gwen and relieving her, knowing she deserved it, just confusing her too.

"Then why-" Gwen tried, confused as her words failed her, you pulled back from her hold slightly, able to look at her with more than a blank face.

"...I'm more happy you came back. I'll yell at you later." You stated, your eyes washing over her face, hesitantly reaching up a hand to hold her cheek.

You moved slow, Gwen noticed. Almost afraid and hesitant to touch her, like she was glass or that she would be gone when you did.

Gwen slowly nodded, sniffling herself as she couldn't help but give a small smile, her hand coming up to hold your wrist.

A lot of shit happened, Gwen knew that. And she didn't deserve to come back to you like nothing happened.

But Gwen needed you, she knew that.

And maybe, she would be selfish once.

Because she was back with you.

And Gwen missed you.

#into the spiderverse x reader #into the spider verse #across the spider verse x reader #spider man: across the spider verse #across the spiderverse #spiderverse x reader #spider gwen x reader #spider gwen #gwen stacy #gwen stacy x reader

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bratzforchris · 1 month

Note

Can you do dad headcanons for Nick? (Obviously not female reader I was thinking adoption or something)

Or uncle headcanons for any of them!

-🎀

Dad Life

Dad!Nick headcanons because this fandom is SEVERELY lacking dad!Nick content :) There are two parts here: one of dad!Nick to younger kids, and one of dad!Nick to older kids because I feel like he would be the type of person to foster/adopt teens. No warnings!

Dad!Nick with younger kids ♡

☆ when nick decides that he wants to have kids, he genuinely does so much research and makes a well informed decision!

☆ whether through adoption or a surrogate mother (remember, there are different ways people can have kids <3), he is genuinely so excited to meet his baby and falls in love with them immediately

☆ the "newborn scrunch" his baby does on his chest the first time would definitely make nick cry

☆ matt and chris are always willing to help out during the first few months of the baby being home

☆ "oh my god, how did your blowout get through your onesie?"

"welcome to fatherhood, man"

☆ once he gets the hang of it, nick is genuinely the baby whisperer. whenever baby sturniolo wakes up in the middle of the crying, all it takes is some funny faces and an ariana grande lullaby in the rocking chair to get them right back to sleep

☆ nick leans more towards girl dad, but he would be happy and love his child any way <3

☆ even when the terrible toddler phase comes along, he always keeps his cool and makes it a point to never shout/get overly angry, which is a large contrast to his youtube days

☆ genuinely one of those dads who is always doing cute little handprint crafts with his baby

☆ "i'll give you a dollar if you tell your uncle chris he has a big forehead"

☆ nick's kid(s) know how to stand up for themselves. their daddy teaches them to always be kind, but not let people walk all over you. no one is bullying them off the swings

☆ he loves to play pretend with his kids because he usually ends up laughing too. pirates, princesses, you name it

☆ "daddy! i'm a princess locked in a class, save me!"

"weren't you just a ninja, honey?"

☆ running after his kids is 100% a full time job, because they take after their daddy with sassy mouths and chaotic behavior

☆ on a serious note, nick never shies away from hard conversations. he's always honest and explains everything as best as he can to his babies

Dad!Nick with older kids ♡

☆ nick gives off foster/adopt for teens, mostly because he knows teens can feel excluded since a lot of people want babies, and that's just unacceptable

☆ he's actually so accepting of all the kids that come into his home, no matter what

☆ he makes sure they have everything they need to feel confident, because he knows how hard high school can be

☆ always makes sure they get their driver's license if they want, have a working cell phone, and have money to go out with friends

☆ "dad, this guy broke up with me because i 'wear too much makeup'"

"honey, looking like THAT...he should be trying to learn from you"

☆ as much as he tries not to be, he's the parent that cries ar every homecoming, prom, graduation, etc

☆ definitely lets his teens have their style (within reason). he'd definitely be okay with fun hair colors and certain piercings

☆ nick loves to be of homework help where he can. it's an easy in to get his teens talking to him about how they feel

☆ overall, nick is just genuinely the best dad anyone could ever ask for, no matter how old his kids are <3

tags ♡: @aemrsy @jake-and-johnnies-slut @mattsfavwh3re @suyqa @chrissturnswife @mbsbaby @herxyz @ilovejohnnieg @lovingchrissposts @caffeinatedscorpio @bunny-cotton @emmagirouard @athaliahxoxo @bitchydragonparadise @dumpling-to-eat @ilydeaky @soggyslugg169 @not-phone-guy @books0fever @stingerayyy2 @strnlvr @sunsetsturniolos @mimi-luvzyu @mayhem-72 @faygo-frog @oobleoob @idek3000hi @runasvengence

note ♡: if you'd like to be added to my tag list, click here <3

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torialefay · 4 months

Text

🗡️ The Eaten Heart🍷

bangchan x fem!reader (smut) 🔞

〰️summary: chan loves you to death. no, literally, he would die pleasing you. a ritual to unite the two of you tries to keep you both satisfied.

〰️ warnings: intense emotional sex, ritual play, breath play, blood play, lowkey highkey sacrilegious, genuinely just imagine all the warnings possible bc this is literally ur fault now if u read it so don’t blame me 🦇

〰️author’s note: this work definitely contains sacrilegious elements. no disrespect was intended through this writing. please do not continue reading if this offends you.

〰️wc: 6.5k

〰️please god minors DNI!!! 🔞

〰️check out my masterlist if you want to see more!

———————————————————

“Are you ready, my love?” Chan held out his hand, waiting calmly for you to take ahold of it. The black button up he had been wearing was now rolled up to his elbows. You noticed the tiny outline of a packet resting in the chest pocket.

“Always.” You gently took hold of his hand, as he began to lead you down the corridor and opened the black, heavy vaulted door at the end. Opening it slowly revealed the the narrowed, twisting set of steps that resided inside. No matter how many times you’d seen this view, the daunting beauty of it in all of its darkness, you were always overwhelmed at the sullen energy that was trapped inside.

The usual paleness of Chan’s skin now turned slightly warmer as he took a step inside to be illuminated by the seeping black candles held on the wall sconces. They gave warmth to a tiny path, leading up the dark stairs.

Holding tightly to your grip once more, Chan began to slowly ascend the steps, one level at a time. He paused carefully between each step, making sure that the fabric of the long, pillowy, dark wine-colored chiffon dress you were holding wasn’t hindering you in any way. You each took your time, enjoying the dual thrill and serenity of this moment together. Both knowing full well what you were about to do. The gentle ascension also allowed more time for you to study Chan’s face. The lust in his eyes was almost incomparable. The usually chirp nature of his personality all but gone. These moments with you were taken seriously by him. This was, for both of you, the time that you could fully be with each other- blocked out from the rest of the world and its mundane superficiality. In this world, it was just the two of you.

Greeted now by the last step, Chan used both hands to hold tightly to your arm, making sure that you were secure in the final and largest step in the series. Once you were settled on the steady floor, he took advantage of his grip to lovingly pull you closer, bringing your hand to his chest and resting it over his beating heart. The beats were so strong, so pronounced, that you could feel it rippling through his entire body.

“I want to feel you fully tonight. Okay?” he questioned, leaning his forehead down to touch yours. ‘My beautiful, beautiful girl,’ he thought.

You looked up at him, gently bringing your other hand to cup the side of his face. “Of course, my love. I wouldn’t have you any other way.” You went in for a short, sweet kiss before pulling away. Suddenly, Chan forced your hand down, off of his chest, rotating your arm until you repositioned your body to face forward.

One hand intertwined with his, the other now latching onto his bicep, you followed just behind him as he led you farther into the beautiful, almost ominous room. It was taunting in a way.

You always got nervous at this point. Nerves, butterflies, what have you. It didn’t matter how many times you’d gone through this with Chan, each ritual brought on new emotions, so overwhelming that you felt totally and completely consumed. ‘That is the point,’ you reminded yourself. ‘And ultimately, there is no better feeling in the world.’

You made a mental note of Chan’s expression- stoic and unwavering. His eyes were set only on the stained-glass window ahead. Much like him, and now much like you, the glass was adorned only in various shades of blacks, greys, and the occasional white. It let in the faintest beams of light, which was the only source of illumination excluding three white candles, not yet lit, sitting to the side of the window sill.

Now seeing Chan with the streaks of moonlight shining down on his face, you had reached the edge of the room. You both stood there for a moment, basking in the beauty shining out in front of you before turning to each other, Chan now taking both of your hands into his.

The love in your eyes while looking at Chan could not be hidden in the room. It sparked his heart up every time he saw the faintest reminder of it. His eyes trailed down to your lips- perfect and bare for him, as you’d known to do by this point. He saw you for your raw nature. For the humanness that you possessed, only a vessel to contain your inescapable soul. It wasn’t as if Chan wanted this, nor that he needed this. You were simply his fate. THIS was simply his fate. You had full control over him and he over you because you were one. Together, you made one full person.

He turned his head toward the window to face the moon in all its solemnity. You were always in his stars. The two bodies were simply one.

‘I can’t believe the luck I’ve been given in this life,’ he thought.

Piercing his eyes into yours, he began. “You are my one true love and my soul eternal. Nothing will ever be a part of me as much as you. Isn’t that right?”

Your head spun into his words, locking in every syllable. “That’s right, my love.”

“And I am your one true love and your soul eternal. Nothing will ever be a part of you as much as me. Is that correct?”

“Of course, my love,” you whispered, getting closer to his mouth. You came tantilizingly close, just lingering over his lips with a slight smirk. You knew what you were doing to him. You felt it every time in the way that his heart started to once again beat out of his chest. You took your hand from his, slowly, working your way onto his sculptured torso. You used two fingers to start walking up toward his chest, smiling at him daringly as you went. ‘I know this is driving you crazy, darling,’ you thought to yourself.

You stopped your fingers just over the spot you could feel his heart beating the strongest. You left them there for a second, lightly scratching the skin residing overtop with the tips of your nails. You contemplated for a moment, then proceeded to lunge your nails slightly into him, scratching down to leave deep red marks.

Chan hissed, leaning his head back. He allowed himself to fully feel the sting of your touch. The things you made him feel were like none other. He felt himself hardening underneath his black pants. Bringing his head back up slowly, he was met with your sensual gaze, smirk mocking him spread across your face. ‘Stop being such a fucking tease,’ he thought to himself, intense desire now building up.

He ran his tongue along his teeth, letting it out with a pop. Smiling down at you now, he leaned closer and whispered, “Then let’s play. Let’s worship.”

He suddenly grabbed the top of your dress and ripped downward, pulling the light chiffon apart as if it were never there to begin with. ‘Just like l wanted,’ he thought as he looked to your fully naked chest with no garments over top. He bent down to the level of the rip, continuing his force onto it. Eye level with your breasts, he bit down hard, getting a soft screech from you.

He smiled, obviously loving the reaction and kept working his way down.

*Rip. A bite into your stomach.

*Rip. A bite into your thigh.

*Rip. A bite into the side of your leg.

*Rip. A bite over the top of your foot.

He quickly took the dark fabric of the dress and threw it onto the alcove under the window. Now bent down onto one knee, he took one of your hands into both of his, kissing the top of it ever so slowly, then fully rotating to place a kiss into your palm. He lingered there more just a moment, pressing your hand onto his face to smell the sweetness of your skin. God how he wanted to consume you.

He kissed up the rest of your arm as he worked his way back up to standing. He slowly walked you back until your knees were resting against the alcove. In a swift motion, he pushed you back into the soft padding of the dress, just quickly enough to make you lose your footing but gently enough to make sure you wouldn’t get hurt and hit the three candles placed along the window.

‘My princess, so fucking beautiful for me,’ he thought, staring down at you. ‘This is all mine. I will have all of you.’ He launched himself down on top of you, throwing one of your legs around his waist as he leaned down to plant a hungry kiss to your mouth. He was straight to the point, biting onto you and swirling his tongue around yours. He began rutting his hips into you, taking full charge. He rubbed them up and down quickly, not giving you time to ease into anything. You could feel yourself growing wetter along the material of his pants. The way he put just the right amount of pressure, focusing it right along your clit, was almost too much to handle so rapidly. His body was so in tuned to yours, it was second nature. He continued to grind, unrelenting until a long moan escaped your mouth.

“Yes baby, that’s right. Keep going for me,” he instructed, unlatching his lips only long enough to get the words out. He was right back on them as quickly as he’d pulled off. As he steadily pushed his hips into you, he forced his tongue down into your throat, almost making you choke. He made deep strokes now, matching up his tongue movements to the thrusts of his hips.

You tried to let out more moans, but they were blocked. The vibrations that Chan felt on his tongue from it sent him into overdrive. He brought his hand up, sloppily pushing it into your face, then using two fingers to push into your mouth and join his tongue in your throat.

You gagged around the pressure. You couldn’t help it. You almost felt yourself suffocating underneath him.

“That’s right, so fucking beautiful for me. I know you can take it,” he spat out, eyes locked onto your every reaction.

You continued to choke while moaning and whining for air. You slowly tried to get deep breaths in and out of your nose, but they were far and few between. The combination of the clit stimulation and the aggressive strokes down your mouth overwhelmed you in the deepest sense of the word. You felt yourself losing oxygen, slowly letting your brain go fuzzy. You let out small tears and started to full-on scream. Muffled screams of course. At first, Chan couldn’t make it out. He reveled in the fact that he had full control over your body. Full control over your life at this point.

“Chris!!!” He felt you vibrate across his fingers. He quickly pulled his tongue and fingers out of your mouth, letting you choke and gasp for air. Tears were still streaming from your eyes, and Chris was sure this was the most beautiful he’d ever seen you.

You couldn’t help but continue to cry as you felt the oxygen rush back into your brain, helping you to finally feel alive again. Tears and tears and tears started flooding off of you.

“You did such a good job, pretty girl,” he cooed into you, still motioning his hips against your clit. “I’m so so proud of you,” he smiled. “But now,” he lifted his face up over top of yours- “Now, I need you to let go and come for me. You can do that for me, can’t you baby?” His eyes locked onto yours. You could barely see his face from the water covering your vision, but you went through with nodding your head as the breaths now came easier.

You focused on the deep strokes he was making on top of you, feeling your clit become engorged from how perfectly he was hitting you. You leaned your head back, mouthing “Fuck” as best as you could. Chan must have liked the reaction, as he pushed himself even harder into you, his thigh now adding more pressure. You were sure you couldn’t contain yourself much longer.

You gazed up to see Chan’s face hanging right over yours, watching intently as your began to writhe underneath him. He loved the power. He loved the thought of controlling the most vulnerable part of you. He looked like he wanted to fucking eat you.

You continued to focus on his face as the warm feeling of release started to come over you. Chan knew it too. He smirked, leaning down again to be closer to your face.

“Is my girl gonna cum for me?” he laughed, grinding as hard as he possibly could.

That was it. It sent you over the edge.

You felt your body start to convulse around you, desperately grappling for a bit of the dress fabric to hold onto while you rode it out. A zap went into your brain, healing any residual loss of oxygen that could have been felt. Chris smiled into your neck, then took both arms to hold your own down. He held your body down with his own, making you continue to take his hips grinding into you.

You were officially overstimulated, not able to fight back under Chan’s body weight. You cried, “Chris, Chris stop. I’m done. I’m done. Holy shit,” you cried, feeling another bolt shoot down your legs. “Ahh! I’m done!” You started panting, trying to catch your breath as quickly as you could as Chan lifted himself off of you slowly. The smile on his face quickly tilted down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“I knew you could do it.” He continued to press kisses along the entirety of your face until your breathing started to normalize. Once you had calmed down. He took your hand in his and planted slow kisses into the side of your neck. He pulled back up to wipe a few leftover tears before smiling down. “Time to offer our bodies, yeah?” he spoke gently.

You nodded with a deep breath out and a look of determination and slight excitement on your face.

Chan raised his body over yours, then leaned down to cup your back and help you raise up. He stepped off of the platform to remove his pants and unbutton his top, grabbing a few small items from the pocket before removing it fully. You watched as he let the clothes hit the floor and leaned over your body to set the items gently behind one of the three candles resting beside you.

He twisted your body around with his arms so he could now sit down, taking the placement you once had. “Ready?”, he asked, reaching up to laze his hand along the back of your neck.

You didn’t bother replying. Slowly, you crawled on top of his lap, running your hands into his hair, settling to rest over each side of his head for stability. Slowly, you lowered yourself onto his hardened cock, making sure to take it inch by inch. His hands slowly trailed from your neck and down your back, until he was holding just above your waist. He breathed heavily as you lowered yourself onto him, letting out a small hiss each time you moved.

Moving his eyes up, he watched your face as you took in more of him. The way you scrunched your eyes at the light but delicious pain of having him inside of you. ‘All fucking mine now,’ he thought, letting his head roll back as you had fully taken him in. He gyrated his hips the slightest bit to feel around inside of you. How tight you were for him and how he filled you up all the way to your cervix.

“Time for worship,” he breathed out.

He smoothly swiped his hands along and off of your body to reach for one of the items hidden behind a candle. A small lighter rested softly in his hand. He made quick work to bring it back in front of you, right between each of your face. He looked into your eyes for permission before lighting it. A small, warm, meaningful flame sparked up as he dragged his thumb across it. He smiled at you lovingly, ready for what was about to begin.

“The body, the blood, and the spirit,” he whispered into the flame. The words moved past the flame to hit your own lips, sending a cool rush into your body.

You moved closer to the glowing burn. You stared first at it, then down to Chan’s lips.

You repeated after him. “The body, the blood, and the spirit.” You looked at each other, silently counting down before taking a deep breath to simultaneously blow out the flame. You smiled into each other, reciprocally grabbing faces for a quick kiss. This one was full of passion- unlike any kiss you’d had before.

Chan suddenly pulled away, carefully guiding the lighter up and away from the both of you. He extended both arms as far as they could reach, stabilizing with one hand and pushing into the lighter with the other.

With that, he lit the first candle:

“The Body”

Returning his attention back to you, he let himself take a moment to memorize the feeling of being inside of you. How wet you were for him and how tense you felt around him. How you contoured yourself perfectly around him, letting him fill you up like a mould.

“This pussy was made for me. Only me,” he breathed out, slipping his hands down to your waist. He started massaging your waist back and forth, slowly at first to warm himself up inside of you. He was gentle, but started picking up speed steadily.

“Come down here, I need to feel you,” he instructed, moving his hands up to your back and pulling your body down on top of his. Sitting now, chest to chest, you wrapped your hands around his neck as you continued to ride him, slowly, back and forth. You kept pulling his body closer as you picked up the pace. Your arms now completely crossed over each other with your face in the crook of his neck.

Chan took the opportunity to relax his head back a little, just enjoying the feeling of you giving into him. He turned his head to the side, planting kisses from the top to the bottom of your neck. You felt yourself gasp once he had gotten to the end.

He bit down. Hard. ‘Fuck,’ you thought. He continued relentlessly biting in. He wouldn’t let you out of his bite. Your first instinct was to start moving faster on top of him, almost ballistically as if to pull away. But he wasn’t having it.

He gripped onto your hips now, pushing and pulling you quickly around him. He didn’t bother with being gentle anymore. He would make sure you had marks on both your neck and hips by the time this was done.

With his teeth sunken in as far are they could go, he swirled his tongue around the fresh-forming bruise. He quickly took a harsh handful of your ass, hauling it backward and forward, backward and forward.

“Chrissss,” you hissed out, not knowing how else to express yourself in this moment. “Fuck,” you let your head roll down. “Chris holy shit.”

He finally pulled off of your neck. “Say my name again,” he gritted.

“Fuckkk, Chris,” was all you could manage to get out, breath getting heavy.

“Louder.” He was violently moving your hips now, adding sloppy thrusts where he was able. He stared into you, looking animalistic.

“Christopher, please!” You breathed out hard now. You weren’t going to be able to take much more of this.

“I SAID LOUDER. FUCKING YELL FOR ME.”

“CHRISTOPHER BANG HOLY SHIT. PLEASE GOD,” you now yelled out as loud as you could. You just needed him to finish you.

He smirked up at you, loving the sight of what he’d done to you. You’d do anything for him and he knew it. Any. Fucking. Thing. He could and would make you do anything he said. And he would do anything for you. This moment is how it was supposed to be forever.

“God?,” he tauntingly laughed. “No baby, I am your god. I am all you will ever fucking need,” he barked out through gritted teeth. One hand had moved up to grab your hair as the other kept slamming your ass into him.

“You will worship me the same that I will worship you.” He was yelling at this point. Suddenly, he laid his body back on the ground, pulling you down with him. Your face now only an inch from his.

He looked deeply into your eyes and grinned. “Now you better pray to me that I don’t destroy you.”

His hand in your hair now pulled all the way back, lifting your head up to the sky. His grip on you didn’t fade, but he stopped pushing you and instead started ramming his cock into you as quickly as he could. He was relentless, pushing deeper with every thrust. You couldn’t even describe the pleasure mixed with the pain.

“Christopher, OH MY GOD. Fuck.. fuck.. FUCK!” you yelled at the sky. A smirk came across his face at the sight of you looking up. Looking like you were praying to him.

‘My good fucking girl,’ he thought. ‘It’s just me and you now.’

He kept thrusting harder and harder, until you thought for sure something inside of you was going to rip. You felt like everything inside of you was being shifted. He was rearranging you from the inside out.

“You’re going to fucking rearrange me, Christopher,” you spat out, about to begin crying again.

“See,” he grabbed your hair even tighter, bringing the first tear out. “I’m making you into my own perfect creation.” He bucked his hips into you three more times, each leaving you feeling breathless and helpless.

Suddenly, he stopped. He dropped his grip on your hair, letting your head fall softly to his chest. You could hear his heart going a million miles an hour. He put his hand over top of yours to feel it doing the same.

As much as you needed the release, you knew neither of you could have it yet. That’s not how this worked. You had to be patient.

As you moved one hand to gently hold the side of his face, he moved his free arm around your back as he sat up again. The moonlight surrounding you showed the sweat along his forehead and hairline, only making him look sexier.

He quietly reached over yet again for the lighter and to grasp onto another candle. He swiftly made a motion over top of it to turn the pure white wick into a newly charing flame. Before turning to face you he grabbed the other item he had previously thrown down. A small silver dagger adorned with beautiful carving into the handle.

There it was, seemingly quicker than the times before. The lighting of the second candle.

“The Blood”

Chan gripped tightly to the knife and gently placed it in your hand, being careful not to let it hurt you. He looked in your eyes as if to wait for your nod of approval. You were always a little scared, yes, but you wanted this more than anything in the world. The feeling was indescribable. To pledge your loyalty to him and him to you.

You firmly grasped the dagger into your hand. Chan felt along your chest, resting his palm over top of where your heart laid. He delicately clasped his other hand on top of yours, leading the knife to the area above your chest. He softly removed his marking hand to expose your skin underneath.

Ever so slowly, he led your hand down, along with the knife until the tip was grazing the top of your skin. He made sure to directly line it up over the top of your heart. Each breath you took made it prod the tiniest bit into you.

“You’re mine, my love,” he held the hand tightly and leaned forward to kiss you forehead. When he pulled back, he looked directly into you and squeezed your hand. A signal to begin.

His had hovered over top of yours as you started to move the knife painstakingly slow, just deep enough so that it would penetrate your skin. As soon as you felt it make the first scratch, you winced a tiny bit at the pain. It was by no means unbearable. Just enough to make you notice the uncomfortability of it all.

Chris stared at your hand, still resting his own gently over top as you moved. Your eyes shut, and you breathed out heavily, focusing all of your effort into your hand. You slowly moved it, little by little, leaving a shallow imprint across the skin. You swooped it down, following a steady curve until it could be brought back up.

Chris smiled, knowing you were done. He took a tighter grip on the knife, pulling it back to reveal your handiwork.

There, now carved into you, a lone letter “C”. A few drops of blood were trickling down.

All Chris could do was grin, leaning his face in to plant a small kiss in the middle of the “C”, making sure not to ruin the tiny bit of blood that had been let out.

He softly grabbed the knife out of your hand and held it with his own. He motioned with his eyes down to his chest, cueing you to find where his heartbeat was strongest. Once you settled your palm against his skin, he extended the dagger slowly for you to grab over top of where his fist was holding it.

You easily took it. Not hard, but barely resting over top.

He put a smirk on his face before bringing the knife down to where your hand lay. You slowly removed it, losing contact with the pulse of the heart beating below. He made quick work to push the knife into his chest, definitely with more power and aggression, deeper than what you had done.

Your instinct was to pull his hand back, but to no avail. He was gripping at the knife too tightly for your touch to do anything.

“This is good, baby,” he assured you.

You nodded, taking a deep breath before stabilizing your hand over his one again. You followed along with the curve of his hand, as you watched him carve your initial into his skin.

He had gone so much deeper, blood was trickling down fast. Not enough to be worried, but enough to silently think he was crazy. Crazy for you.

Once he reached the last stroke of your initial, you went to take your hand off of his. Instead of pulling back, he gently pushed in on the knife a little deeper, almost solidifying the engraving into his chest.

“Stop it Chan!” you screamed, returning your hand to his, to try and slowly back it up. You struggled, but he didn’t give in. He looked you dead in the face. His eyes were black now. It was as if something otherworldly had taken over him.

He didn’t respond, just held the knife in place, using his other hand to reach up and grab your face. He left a few gentle strokes along your cheek before settling into your hair, smirk wide across his face.

“Give me a kiss first,” he whispered.

“No Christopher! You’re too deep! Take it out right now!” you yelled, truly worried. You grasped his hand even tighter, trying to tug on it. To no avail. He was staying there if it was the last thing he did.

By the look on his face, you knew you’d set him off. His nostrils started to flare and he eyed you down. His jaw locked in place so tightly you thought he’d never be able to open it again.

“I want to give you my heart, y/n,” he spoke initially. “I want to give you my fucking heart,” his tone raised, face visibly mad. “I want to fucking rip it out right now for you to have!” he finally started screaming. “It’s yours anyway. It doesn’t belong to me. It belongs to you goddamn it, now fucking take it!” he yelled at you, his hot breath hitting you in the face. He could say what he wanted, but he was in pain. You gave him a few seconds to calm himself.

You leaned down to return to him what he’d done to you prior. You whispered in a low breath “No,” before kissing his forehead. You pulled back to rest your face on the same plane as his, only inches apart. You grasped his hand over top of the knife. “Not today, my love. Today, I need you here with me. And I need you here to be a part of me.” You kissed his cheek.

You could feel his hand relax a little, and you let yours tighten. Going as slowly as possible, he allowed you to remove the dagger, a quarter of a centimeter at a time. You both looked down as it inched out, admiring the perfect initial he had carved. A few areas streamed blood down them, but nothing more than he’d had before. Once the knife was fully out, he gently held it in front of him, covered in blood that ran down the palm of his hand. Your hand still around his felt the tiny trickles of blood onto it too.

He slowly let you direct the knife back to your own skin. You rested it just along your own engravement, making sure to get the small amount of your blood from your chest and onto each side of the knife.

You both looked intently as you guided the knife back to the center and handed it off to Chan. You slid your hand down to grasp onto and stabilize his wrist.

You both sat for a minute, looking at each other like you weren’t sure who should start. Chan leaned in leisurely, bringing his face down to the the level of the knife. He stuck his tongue out to bring it straight down, along the middle of the blade. As he pulled back, he closed his mouth and licked his lips- a shade of red now covering them.

You mirrored his example and gently took a swipe of blood in your mouth. You never really got used to it- the taste of the iron. But knowing that it was now mixed blood, that of you and your soulmate, you cherished every last drop.

Chan placed the dagger back behind the candle before leaning in to steal a quick kiss. Your mouths were now wet with each other, but in the most perfect way. A tiny part of him, even if just a cell, would now live in you. It made you just that bit perfect, but that was enough for you.

It was not enough for Chan. He needed to devour you in every sense. ‘It’s time to finish you,’ he thought.

He rushed to find the lighter again, scrambling his blood-covered thumb over the top to light it up.

The lighting of the third candle.

“The Spirit”

He quickly wiped the blood of his hands off onto the remainder of the dress lying beneath him. He laid you down again onto your back, throwing your legs over his lower back as he went. He made sure to press his chest all the way down into you, letting your blood intermingle and soak into the initial he had so happy etched into himself.

He looked at you in adoration. ‘God this man.’ He made you feel so loved. So seen. How could this gentle being be the same man who was ramming into you 10 minutes ago? The man that was fully insistent on ripping his heart out to present to you because nothing else could fulfill his need to give you himself? This man loved you. In the full sense of the word. He would die for you. He would sacrifice his own soul to save yours. He would crawl through the depths of hell if he knew it would keep you safe. Chan was the only person you would ever need, and he made sure you knew that.

“It might feel tight, baby,” he whispered, laying his head down into your hair, right beside your neck. He slowly let his length move inside of you. He proceeded slowly, only pushing in slightly more when he felt you relax around him.

Once you had fully adjusted, he began with slow, loving strokes. You suddenly felt warm with this fullness inside of you. Like this is what you had been missing all along. And with it, you were finally whole.

Chan felt the same way, and he made it known to you.

“You feel so good baby,” he whispered into your ear. “My match made in heaven.” He kissed your ear. He continued slowly, making sure to rub along the outside of you.

He let his hands wonder down until they were pressing into the bottom of your stomach. You could feel so much more with the new pressure. You felt every inch of him slowly pulling into and out of you. Every stroke felt like it reached a deeper part. He angled his body slightly lower so that he could angle himself up into you. Right to the sweet spot.

“Fuck,” you breathed out, smile shining on your face. “Fuck baby, that felt good.” You let your head relax back.

“Yeah?” he asked, hovering his face over yours. He didn’t want to miss a single look on your beautiful face.

“Yes, Channie,” you smiled again, taking a sharp breath in.

‘God that fucking nickname’ he thought. His heart turned into putty every time you used it. ‘So soft and so gentle for me… For Channie.’ He smiled, using one hand to stroke along the top of your head, maintaining the pressure on your stomach with the other.

He thrust into you harder now. Not necessarily faster, but using more force. The look on your face was all the reassurance he needed to keep it up.

He watched how your mouth dropped open, like you watched to scream something out but you couldn’t. How your eyes squeezed shut to focus on the feeling he was giving you. How your breathing started to pick up the more that he moved.

Feeling himself inside you got him hard, yes. But watching you- with all of your perfection- loving the way that he made love to you, got him rock hard. Suddenly, his tip became more sensitive. It crept and crept up until it started to drive him wild.

He started to place sloppy kisses along your mouth as he slammed his hips in. He kept a steady pace, just enough to keep your heart rate up.

You moaned as his hand pressed even harder into you. You could feel his cock hitting up and into the palm of his hand. Time and time again, you felt him hit into just the right spot to make your toes curl. Everything in your body froze up, then went warm. He kept going and going until it was going to send you over the edge.

“Channie?” you whined, breathing heavily through your mouth.

“Yes, my love?” He detached himself from your face to look at you. God, he could get off by looking at that face alone.

He smirked. “Does my baby need to cum?”

“Fuck yes,” you said, reaching around his neck to bring his lips down to yours. You felt like you were being elevated from your body.

No, resurrected.

Chan was going to bring you back to life.

Hard, stiff thrusts now poured out of him uncontrollably.

His breathing quickened too all of a sudden. He let out a sharp moan.

“Ughhh,” he drew a breath in. His voice was shaking. “I’m going to cum baby. Cum with me, yeah? Let’s tie ourself together now, okay?” He could hardly get his words out.

You knew he was barely holding on. So vulnerable for you.

Swiftly, he released the pressure off your stomach, making you gasp at the sudden loss of weight. Instead, he brought his hand down to your clit, and rubbed light circles. He went just in tune with the thrusts, throwing you over the edge.

“Oh God, Oh God, Oh God, Oh God,” you screamed out, feeling the beginning of the orgasm take over your entire body.

That’s all Chan needed. He took long thrusts to push himself over the edge with you. He shut his eyes tight, picturing just your face, your soul, holding his heart.

No, EATING his heart. It's all he could ever ask for and you would be the one to give it to him.

“TAKE.” Thrust.

“IT.” Thrust.

“ALL.” Thrust.

“UGHHH,” he yelled out, throwing himself into you with the most force you’d felt all night.

Your vision went white, jolts being sent through your body in every direction. Your body stiffened, head throwing itself back and body arching up off the ground. You felt Chan’s cock twitch inside of you, followed by a warm feeling that almost filled you more than you could take.

He continued to give you a few more wild thrusts. He bit down onto your ear. “Take it baby. Take my spirit and give me yours.”

Your body let out one final jolt before Chan slowed down and grabbed your face, cupping it in both hands.

You kissed him like you’d never tasted him before. Like everything about him was new and you were ready to explore.

You had just dedicated your entire being to him, but everything felt so irrepressible in this moment.

As he brought himself to a complete stop, he pulled his face from yours, panting. He decided to lay there for a few moments, letting himself rest inside you. It only felt natural to be this close to you. To finally feel like he could be a part of you.

His eyes fell down to your chest underneath him- both of you stained from the dark red show of your love for each other.

He made sure you were looking at him. He wanted itnto be a show. He then took the palm of his hand to his mouth, giving it a soft kiss. He placed the hand over your heart, where his initial had been etched in.

“I’ll always be with you, yeah?” he smiled down.

“Always and forever, my Channie.”

——————————————————————————

If you enjoyed, please consider liking or reblogging <3

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skyeslittlecorner · 2 months

Text

Reminiscent of old times | Young Kings, Gusion

I should write some introduction, but I don't have much to add. Just little children who deserve the world, but the world already chose to give them pain.

~1200 words

꧁:･ ✡ ･:꧂

The room was small, cameral, more like an office. The fate of nations is most often played out in such rooms. Subjects reporting, kings giving orders. Choices and decisions. Reports, laws, official letters. Power, the shackles of power, when you have to send your loved ones to death and watch them suffer because you are the most important pawn in this game.

The four boys sit on the floor. Leviathan moved away disapprovingly, and Mammon watched with interest as Beelzebub tried to command the cockroach to enter Satan's nose as he fell asleep. They had no idea what dark thoughts were going through their teacher's head.

Gusion looked at their homework and sighed. Those math problems weren't difficult. At least the initial were not, because it was exactly what they were learning now. It is true that when he prepared homework in the middle of the night, Guison was so tired that he added the last two tasks from a topic they had not studied. They didn't know how to solve it... but what he got back was at least interesting.

“Oh, Gusion is alive. Get up." Beel elbowed Satan in the chest.

The boy shuddered and looked around unconsciously. He squinted to see what was crawling on his nose, and screamed when it turned out to be a cockroach. Beel cackled loudly, and Mammon gently removed the bug and placed it on his shoulder.

“Now you will be mine.”

“You're acting like brats.” Leviathan separated Beel from Satan, who tried to jump at his throat. “Calm down, I want to get this over with.”

“Leeeviii, he's an idiot!”

“You fit together.”

At that moment, they looked like ordinary children. They had fun, argued and laughed, unaware of what fate would bring them. If it weren't for the powerful aura that emanated from each of them, with their fluffy cheeks and undergrown horns, they could have been running around the streets of the capital with sticks, having fun with other kids.

Gusion finally woke up and spoke in a calm voice.

“I checked your homework.”

Of course, it didn't help. This time the focus was again on the cockroach and the deep discussion of how to dip its little legs into the golden river. Only when Gusion slammed his fist on the desk did four pairs of eyes turn to him.

“Leviathan. You did great, everything was resolved perfectly. I didn't expect any of you would do so well.”

Gusion handed him a paper with the only red color marking a perfect score. There was not a single pencil smudge or additional calculations. Only correct results. The boy smiled to himself, as he was sure that it couldn't be otherwise.

“I didn't teach you this, how did you know how to solve it?”

“There was a textbook in the library. Unlike them, I know what books are for.”

In fact, Gusion recently couldn't find his textbook from which he took the assignments. But how did it appear in the library? Gusion hadn't visited this place for several weeks. Without much thought, he pulled out another piece of paper, maybe not as elegantly written as the previous one, but still in good condition.

“Mammon. All the problems are fine up to the point where there was subtraction or division... I understand that you may have read it incorrectly. In one. But everywhere?”

The boy looked at it with interest, but without much concern.

“I read it well.”

“So what's the problem?”

“Why should I reduce numbers when I can accumulate them?”

Inhale. Exhale. That's not what math is about. Still patiently, Gusion rubbed his forehead.

“Sometimes you have to subtract something to gain more... A bit like a loan. You give something to someone for safekeeping so you can pick up more later.”

“But it's still mine?”

"Yes. It's yours. Someone else is just taking care of it for the time being.”

It's true that Gusion didn't know who would take care of delta for him, but what mattered was that Mammon understood. Gusion had long since stopped explaining equations to Mammon in anything other than money terms. Not because he was stupid. He understood very quickly. If he wanted to. And usually he only wanted something when it belonged to him. Him and Beel were the only ones who didn't question the fact that a certain devil bought thirty watermelons.

“Beelzebub…”

The boy returned the paper a day ago, which was so scribbled that you could barely see the whiteness of the page, let alone the answer. When he get it back, this time marked red by Gusion, there was no trace of the white at all.

“Do I even have to comment on this? Once you get something right, it is related to subtraction, just unlike Mammon. Why?"

“Because if I eat something, it won't be there.”

This time Gusion didn't even try to comment. Beel pursed his lips and decided to defend himself.

“I even borrowed a textbook to learn! But it was terribly boring. I think I left it somewhere.”

So that's how it ended up in the library.

“Okay… Sit down. Satan. You're the last one left.”

The first problems looked good. In fact, the beginning looked the most normal compared to the rest of the boys, the further and more difficult the tasks, the more small mistakes. It only got weird towards the end. The paper was concave from the force of what the boy was writing, and instead of an answer there was a puncture with a pen. Satan was the avatar of wrath. Gusion understood this, the boy got irritated when he failed. And then it got weird, because the last two problems were solved so perfectly and cleanly, as if Leviahan had solved them.

“Will you explain to me what happened?”

“Oh.” Satan smiled broadly and turned to Leviathan. "You were right!"

“Of course I was.”

Gusion felt a twinge of pride. Were they studying together? That's better than he expected.

“Right about what?”

“That there are correct answers at the back of the textbook.”

…and whatever hope there was in Gusion just died.

“Hey! There were answers there and you didn't tell me?”

“No, and I will never tell you because you tried to put a cockroach up my nose!”

Mammon, on the other hand, was nodding in admiration.

“Very efficient use of resources.”

“Everyone get out of my sight.”

They didn't need to be told twice. When the group had already flown out of his office, Gusion went to the window, where he soon saw all four of them in the palace courtyard. Whatever mischief they had planned, they looked carefree. Happily. Young kings who will soon carry the weight of the entire Hell on their shoulders. With power comes responsibilities, and with responsibilities comes suffering. They were young, but each of them had already experienced loss. Learning, fun, friendship. An overlay to the painful everyday life that will soon await them. He might be annoyed that they didn't always take their lessons seriously, but he couldn't stay mad at them for long. In a few years, along with the crowns will come responsibilities. He could only let them taste the remnants of childhood they had left.

#whb #what in hell is bad #whb satan #whb beelzebub #whb mammon #whb leviathan #whb gusion

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yandere-kokeshi · 1 year

Text

NSFW Alphabet Of Yandere Simon “Ghost” Riley

Warnings: pure filth — MINORS DNI

A/N: He’s very misrepresented in our fandom, so I wrote this realistically. Also, this is pointed at gn audience!

Edit: this is a re-upload. Fucking Tumblr took this down due to it going against its rules even though I put the correct tags (mature and sexual content) so now I'm mad. Not grammar-checked.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

— Extremely cuddly, giving you soft kisses, compassionate touches as he cleans you up, and so much praise. Simon treats you like glass afterward, laying beside you whilst tracing shapes into your lower back. He kisses every mark on your body, before asking if he can do anything – get you a cup of water, snack, or even run you a bath.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

— It’s a difficult scenario. With his gut-wrenching past and own insecurities, he doesn’t like anything about himself. He dislikes exposing his body and face, and when doing so, he has high anxiety. But in contrast, he will share the same love that you express on whatever body part of himself. If you adore his arms, Simon makes sure to flex them, wearing shirts that prominent the veins. If you love his chest, he sleeps and walks shirtless – letting you play with them.

For you, he’s an ass man. This also includes the surrounding areas: hips, curves, and thighs. No matter what kind: slim, curvy, athletic, no hair, hair, it doesn’t matter for him. He loves staring at them when you aren’t looking, especially seeing you bending over or simply standing in front of him; he tends to put his hand in your back pocket for a reason.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

— His cum is a bit on the thicker side; with a taste of bitterness. He likes to cum outside, equally worrying about STD’s. But, if one of you wear a condom, or you’re on some form of birth control, he will gladly cum inside.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

— One time, he accidentally walked into you changing - witnessing the image of your back muscles, ass, and thighs drilled into his mind; which ended up with him jerking off for the next few days of you.

For the next week, he couldn't look you directly in the eyes, slight shame and guilt squeezing his heart.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

— He’s a virgin. He’s had zero experience, and because of his past SA, he’s equally a man with no idea of what to do; sweating profusely when he looks at your naked body. He doesn’t know when, or how to start. And with that, he often looks up on wiki’s about sex to help him visualize.

However, Simon is a fast learner. With your guidance, patience, and him learning about what makes you scream, he finds the best ways to have your toes curl whilst your ears ring.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

— Missionary and reverse cowgirl, even if you’re male. Simon loves being able to hold you close, look you in the eyes, kiss your cheeks, and press his forehead against yours.

G = Goofy (are they more serious at the moment? Are they humorous? etc.)

— Rarely ever goofy. This is an extremely vulnerable area for him, which means he’s focusing all his attention on both of you. If you do decide to throw something out, go ahead. But don’t expect Ghost to laugh or make one back.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

— Has a patch of curly champagne-blond(ish) color (#868139), as well as a happy trail. Simon tries his best to trim it for self-comfort, but with the number of missions and how tired he is by the end of the day, it doesn’t happen as often as he’d like.

However, hair on you? He doesn’t mind one bit of it. It’s just hair. It’s a preference for you, and it doesn’t bother him. Whatever you like, is what he’s okay with.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

— Romance is another thing that he needs to learn. A candlelit dinner, warm bubble bath, or the cliché of roses on the bed isn’t his specialty. Though, once he has you, Simon will spend some time reading about what he could do better. He wants to please you, make sure you feel important, and he’s always willing to learn new tricks.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

— Simon feels weird with porn. In contrast, he doesn’t like it. It almost feels like he’s cheating - even if he hasn’t made you fully his yet. However, he will easily give in when watching you from his phone; the house camera gives him a view of you.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Praising: He lives for praising you. Telling you that he loves you, nudging his face into your neck and moaning, “So fuckin’ pretty”. However, he thrives off of attention from you, too. It wasn’t something he was super used to hearing, so when you first tell him, “Good boy”, “You’re perfect”, and “Good job”. It sends a shiver down his spine and ensures to pleasure you harder so he can hear it often.

Oral (on you): He loves it, needs it; heaven between your legs, groans whenever he gets a taste of you, and can’t resist grabbing handfuls of your ass to bring you impossibly closer to his mouth. It’s his own hobby, and when you gently pull at his hair or scratch at his arms, mewling at your 4th orgasm, he loses all self-control and will continue going - even if you’re overstimulated.

Eye Contact: Although eye contact makes him uncomfortable with others, but with you, it makes him feel like he’s doing a good job and is talking to you silently. Especially if one of you is cumming at the moment.

Tattoos: He’s embarrassed about it - but it’s something he naturally gravitates to. He always looks at it, searching it out if and when it’s covered. He loves touching it and tracing the lines, no matter the placement or the size. And Simon often massages it like a sore thumb.

L = Location (favorite places to have intercourse)

— Your shared home. Ghost doesn’t like to expand his safe area, especially if there’s a risk of someone else seeing you.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

— You. His whole world is about his beloved spouse, and nothing more gets him happy than you. He lives up the days when he’s retired, waking up at the butt-of-dawn in the shared house, and seeing your face. That said, you turn him on so much. Even if you’re laying down on the couch, reading or scrolling through social media, his pupils become large hearts and his cock is immediately twitching.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

— Somnophilia, strict bondage, or bringing his job into the bedroom (ex. His Ghost mask, guns, knives, etc.). He’s made it very clear that it makes him uncomfortable, and he wants zero play in it. Another thing that Simon hates is being called ‘daddy’. It makes his skin crawl and nauseated.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

— One of his kinks is giving oral, so it’s no surprise that he’s always giving first. Simon could spend hours between your legs - holding your thighs apart as your nth orgasm has come forward.

Upon receiving, Simon becomes shy. His cheeks are painted a light pink, and his moans start off quiet. But with some pushing, he releases very heightened gasps, whines, and pleasing touches. His hands head to the back of your head, and whines out loudly that ends up with him cumming a lot.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

— Contrary to popular belief, he is not a rough dom - he takes sex with gentle vanilla, and touches that are reassuring. He’s afraid of hurting you or scaring you away. 99.9% of the time, Simon is soft, passionate, and loving; taking his time to kiss every freckle, mole, scar, and bump. Lazily making love, making sure to go easy as he rests his head between the area in your shoulder and neck.

And if he accidentally hurts you, Simon immediately stops the session, helping you, and needs a minute to decompress.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

— He’s 50/50 on it. Whilst he’d prefer the real package, he also is forced to do it because of his military lifestyle. Will definitely make it up to you, a real session that’ll make you scream.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

— He’s open with experimenting – all you need to do is ask him. He’ll try it out with you and if it doesn’t work out, there’s always more. Simon is all about opening his personal space with you. Whatever you desire, he’s more than willing to please you.

But no risks. You’re his, and he is yours; nobody is seeing you.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

— From his long years of hard working as a soldier, his stamina is relatively high. He’s able to exert a fair bit of energy and still feel fine. To be honest, he’ll go until you back out – Simon can last a good two (2) rounds; each lasting a good 45 minutes. Of course, breaks are expected to happen – in which, he will use this opportunity to please you again and again, waiting till you’re ready.

T = Toys (do they own toys? Do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

— Doesn’t own toys, but once he saw your browser-history, he was intrigued. Simon would be okay with using some during sex; watching you cum twice as much from overstimulation with your toy. He’s fine with using vibrators, dildos, or butt plugs if you’re into that.

Though, with him, he’s a bit less to test.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

— Simon is a giver above anything else, and lives to please you. At times, he does tease – and not that he means too. Sometimes he’ll be going at with you, being too carried away with his foreplay, and thus, can accidentally edge you.

However, if you’ve been a brat – breaking the rules he set out – he’ll make sure you’ll apologize and promise him that you won’t do it again.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

— Not the loudest, but not the quietest; in-the-between. He grunts, mumbling out words when he’s about to cum, and his hefty voice goes deeper when he enters you. Curses a lot and tends to praise you as much as he can when you two have sex after awhile.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

— Will open a window after you two have finished having sex in the house. Not only will he use this opportunity to cuddle you for a bit, but the smell and sweat cool off in the room, making it easier for him to take a nap. He’s not a big fan of the sex smell.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes ;))

— Long, thick, and slightly curved to the left. He’s 6.2; his tip is almost a peach color (#D09C9C) and his shaft is a perky white (#e6d3ba). Simon is circumcised, his head and underside are incredibly sensitive with two thick veins that travel to his tip. His balls hang hefty low.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

— Before you, it was zero – now you’re in his life – it’s a decent high libido. He’s easily aroused; anything you do can and will turn him on, regardless of the situation. Though, Simon is good at controlling his needs, and will knock it off if he sees you aren’t in the mood.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterward)

— After sex, he’s not that tired – even if you two went more than 2 rounds. He’ll let you take a nap, or go to bed, but he naturally stays up. It’s odd, he’s paranoid most of the time and looks out around the house before falling asleep.

—

Masterlist || Please reblog or comment instead of liking, it helps me a bunch!

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brightlight-dazzlingeyes · 3 months

Text

i found you | rúben dias

💘 synopsis: it's rúben's and isabella's first valentine's day together. warnings: fluff and gratuitous valentine-cute-themed smut becasue why not. (can be read as x reader cause i forgot to mention the oc name in the story) (this is a sequel to between the lines, but can be read as a standalone; since there's no actual smut in the original story, i figured i should give my oc a nice epilogue) (W.C. 1.5K)

Once upon a time, I was convinced that romantic love was nothing more than an annoying distraction. It was like a stubborn pebble in my shoe, constantly irritating me and diverting my focus from what truly mattered.

With great ambitions driving me forward, I embraced the life of a workaholic sports journalist. I'd dreamed of this career for as long as I could remember, and I was determined to make it to the top. Nothing and no one could derail the carefully plotted course I had set for myself. Or so I thought.

But then, love snuck up on me when I least expected it, turning my world upside down. I found myself falling for someone who challenged my carefully constructed plans and made me question everything I thought I knew about myself. And as much as I tried to resist, I couldn't deny the magnetic pull drawing me closer to him.

As Valentine's Day approached, I reflected on how much had changed since that time when I thought love was nothing but a nuisance. Now, it is the very thing that brings color to my life.

And as I prepared for a romantic dinner with the person who had stolen my heart, I felt nothing but gratefulness for the delightful chaos he had brought into my life.

We stepped into a cozy restaurant, the aroma of delicious food enveloped us, and I felt a flutter of excitement in my stomach. Valentine's Day dinner with Rúben – it is still surreal, like something out of a cheesy rom-com.

We plopped down at our table, and Rúben dove into the menu like it was a puzzle. Couldn't help but poke fun at him.

"Can't make up your mind, huh? Let me guess, torn between the steak and the seafood pasta." I teased, a smirk playing on my lips.

He glanced up, "Actually, I was thinking of going all in and ordering the entire dessert menu. You know, for research." He joked, his laughter contagious.

After dinner and a couple drinks, we decided to head back to Rúben's place. As we walked out of the restaurant, the crisp evening air hit us. We strolled side by side, our steps matching in rhythm, exchanging playful banter along the way.

Eventually, we reached Rúben's apartment building, and he held the door open for me with a charming smile. I followed him inside. As we stepped into the elevator, the atmosphere shifted, a sense of excitement mingled with nerves. Our eyes met, and in that silent exchange, we both knew what was coming next.

The elevator ride felt like it lasted an eternity, the anticipation building with each passing floor. And when we finally reached Rúben's floor, the door to his apartment swung open, and we stepped inside.

We stood there for a moment, taking in the scene before us, the air thick with anticipation. And as Rúben turned to face me, his eyes sparkling with desire, I knew that this was where I was meant to be.

"I'm so happy." He whispered, his voice barely above a breath.

"Yeah?" I replied, a smile spreading across my face. "Well, there are plenty of ways you can show me just how happy."

"I'll do my best." He answered, his eyes twinkling with excitement as he leaned in and planted a tender kiss on my forehead.

His touch sent a shiver down my spine, igniting a fire of desire within me. I nodded, unable to find the words to express the storm of emotions raging inside me.

The atmosphere was charged with electricity, every glance and touch sending jolts of excitement through my veins. Rúben's eyes sparkled with desire as he guided me further into the room, his hand warm against mine. Our lips met in a passionate kiss, igniting a fire between us. We lost ourselves in each other's embrace. This was where I belonged – in Rúben's arms, surrounded by love and desire.

We surrendered to the intensity of our connection. Rúben's hands moved with purpose, exploring every inch of my body as if committing it to memory, each touch igniting a new wave of desire within me.

With practiced ease, he lifted me off my feet, his strong arms holding me close as he carried me towards the bedroom. I wrapped my arms around his neck, lost in the sensation of being so close to him, my heart racing with anticipation.

As he gently lowered me onto the bed, our eyes locked in a silent promise of passion and devotion.

His kisses became more intense, I could hear the rhythm of his breathing growing more rapid. His fingers curled around my hips, pulling me closer, pushing me further onto him. I whimpered as pleasure surged through me.

His hands continued their journey southward, tracing the curves of my body with skillful precision. The look in his eyes told me he was feeling the same wild need I was.

I arched my back, grinding my hips against him, letting him feel my desire. And the sensations only intensified as he teased my clit with his tongue, coaxing it into bloom. With every touch, with my body under his mercy, the room around me began to spin.

He parted my legs with his knee and buried his face between them, moaning as he kissed my inner thighs. In that moment I realized I could reach orgasm with just his lips caressing my most intimate flesh. I lost control. I cried out as ecstasy overwhelmed me.

Without warning, his mouth descended on mine again, seeking out the sweetness of my lips, inserting one finger inside of me. Then another one. I cried out in delight, pushing myself deeper onto his digits. His fingers worked relentlessly at their task. I let go of my inhibitions and gave myself over to his expert ministrations, gasping as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through me.

Finally, after several moments of total bliss, I collapsed under him, breathless and spent.

He pulled away and smiled, cupping my cheek tenderly, gazing deeply into my eyes.

My eyes were heavy as I stared into his; dark pools that bore an intensity I'd never seen before. There was a strange expression on his face, a combination of curiosity and wonder. It didn't take me long to realize that he was looking at me with complete adoration.

Cuddling with him, I could feel just how hard he was, laying on top of me. I smiled, still feeling a bit shaky after such a harsh orgasm, and placed my hand on his member. He looked at me with wonder.

"Are you sure you're ready to go on?" He asked, concern evident in his voice.

"Mmm, not really." I admitted, rubbing the bulge tentatively.

"Maybe I should give you a rest first." He leaned forward and licked my earlobe playfully.

"Oh, but I've been dreaming about this all day." I breathed into his ear.

He whispered back, "Well, who am I to deny you your dreams?"

His words sent a shiver down my spine, turning my knees weak. I reached up to pull him closer, craving the feel of his skin against mine. Then, before I knew what was happening, he grabbed my wrists and pinned them above my head.

It was like he possessed me. With just one swift motion, he pushed me backwards, then pressed himself firmly against me. He let out a low moan as he lifted my leg higher, curling me around his waist, penetrating me with one forceful thrust. The sensation was incredible. He reached behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist, holding me tight.

As he slowly moved in and out of me, I heard the same soft sound of pleasure escape from both of us. I found myself getting lost in his deep brown eyes, forgetting where I was and everything else around me. My head fell back against his shoulder as he moved ever so slightly faster. It wasn't long before I came again.

But instead of slowing down or stopping, he picked up speed even more.

My heart raced as I surrendered to the whirlwind of sensations coursing through me. With each powerful thrust, I felt myself edging closer to the brink of losing my mind, my body trembling with ecstasy.

He whispered my name like a prayer, his breath hot against my ear as he drove me to the edge and beyond. I clung to him desperately, my nails digging into his skin as I rode the waves of pleasure crashing over me.

And then, in a crescendo of bliss, we reached the pinnacle together, our cries of release mingling in the air.

We lay entwined in each other's arms, spent and breathless. In that moment, there was no past, no future, only the intense connection between us, binding us together. With him by my side, I was ready to face whatever challenges life threw our way, knowing that our love would always be our guiding light.

#rúben dias #football fanfic #football fic #ruben dias #ruben dias x reader #ruben dias fic

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skzooweemama · 4 months

Note

hear me out.

tickle fight w minho🤭

just an idea, no pressure🙊

say less!! much love for the sassy bunny <3

okokok had a tough time coming up w an idea for this one BUT!! i took inspo from when he, changbin, and felix played pool and minho got all up in felix’s face…

like i was just imagining tickling him for being a little shit?? and him taking revenge?? yes plz.

(i experimented w some formatting/structure, so i hope it's not too confusing to read. though i like writing in second person, it can be tough to work w sometimes. i apologize in advance!!)

enjoyyyyy!!!

~~~

"goddammit!! i swear he's cheating!!" you cry out, nearly throwing your pool cue to the floor in defiance.

felix catches it before you can. "he's not." he sighs in mild defeat. "thing is neither of us are very good and he is."

lee minho, infamous bunny bully and your boyfriend, had been whooping up on you in partnered pool all day. you'd been partnered with just about every member (save for changbin, he was always minho's partner) and in each game you lost. minho wasn't super great at pool by any means, but he was calculating and crazy competitive. and he got lucky a lot. which is why he was currently trying to sink the eight ball while you and felix desperately tried to catch up.

"preying on the weak is a coward's move, minho!" chan called from the couch. he had been your first and best partner, but after one game he tapped out for-what seungmin called-"old man reasons".

minho, who was chalking his cue, stuck his tongue out at chan. you rolled your eyes.

he could be so childish.

"it's not personal, jagi. i know it's hard to lose so much, but it's for your own good." minho shrugged, placing the cue chalk down. you gave him a look.

"oh really? how's that?" you asked, watching out of the corner of your eyes as felix missed another shot.

minho gave you one of his signature grins and lowered himself into the perfect position to finally sink the eight ball.

"it builds character." was all he said before tapping the cue ball just so- sending the eight ball ricocheting off the side of the pool table and right into a waiting pocket.

the cheers he let out should've been illegal. it's not like he was hurting for a win (unlike some people (you)).

"yes!" he exclaimed, clapping changbin on the back. in what seemed to be sudden burst of energy from the win, he rounded to your side of the table and got in your face, letting out a sort of growl.

you looked at him, eyes wide, completely taken aback by this behavior.

was he truly becoming a cat? after all this time?

"god, you are such a weirdo." you said, reaching up to flick his forehead. "good game. let's go again."

"i can't, i'm tired now. i need a nap." minho answered, turning to put his pool cue away.

changbin piped up at that. "tired? it's like 10pm. are you going to bed?"

minho shook his head. "i'm going to take a nap." he leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss to your cheek. "see ya."

true to his word, he headed out of the game room and down the hall towards the room the both of you were staying in.

such a weirdo.

soon enough since it was getting late and they had a schedule tomorrow, the members started to follow minho's lead. they had a long day and definitely deserved the rest, but you were on a mission. you had to get better at pool so you'd be a slightly challenging opponent for minho in the future.

totally not because your ego was bruised after all those losses.

no, of course not.

you played by yourself for a while, working on consistently hitting the brightly colored balls into specific pockets. the few times you tried to get the ball to bounce off the side of the table, it didn't work. you still had a ways to go before you could compete against minho. and seeing as it had been at least an hour since he went to "nap", you decided he probably wasn't coming back out.

whatever, the two of you hardly ever played pool in the first place. what did it matter if you were good?

"oh good, you're still awake. ready for a rematch?"

it seemed you spoke too soon.

your eyes found minho standing in the doorway, bare-faced and wearing his glasses. his hair was sort of messy, confirming that he did in fact take a nap like the psycho he is. he was also wearing one of your old twice hoodies, and you made a mental note to grab it later. minho was a notorious hoodie thief.

"are you going to let me win for once?" you asked, crossing your arms over your chest.

minho scoffed and walked into the room, grabbing a cue from the rack. "of course not. i don't go easy on anyone. not even you."

you knew that would be his answer. no matter, you planned for this. "alright, fine. then i propose a handicap. to make it fair."

"and that's different from me going easy on you how?"

"you can play however you want, as long as you observe it. i know how clever you are, you'll figure it out." truthfully, a handicap wasn't that much different than minho deliberately going easy on you. but pool made him competitive, and if he was feeling competitive sometimes he liked a challenge.

minho looked at you for a long time, before eventually shrugging. "what's the handicap?"

"for every one shot you take, i get two. sound fair?" minho scoffed at your words, shaking his head.

"you're on. i've seen how you shoot, jagi." he replied as he racked the balls.

you smiled to yourself. "you might be surprised."

~~~

safe to say minho was not surprised.

you were just as terrible as you had been all day, even after all that practice you told him about. he almost felt bad for you. sure, you were great at many things he wasn't and you had a knack for picking up skills rather quickly. it just seemed like pool wasn't one of those skills.

now, he was just about to win again, and honestly... it felt just as good as all the other times.

"min! take your turn! i know you want to rub this in, so consider it rubbed..." you groaned, leaning on the table as you watched your boyfriend analyze the layout of the balls.

minho decided he had about two options to get each of his balls in. one he could do from where he was currently standing and it had a pretty decent chance of being successful. the other, however, required a lot more caution, and for him to be standing on the side of the table you were on.

safe to say he chose option two and sauntered over to your side of the table.

you turned towards him as he approached, giving him a questioning look. "couldn't you have just hit the green striped one from where you were standing?"

minho nodded. "i missed you."

"missed me? what are you-" he pressed a finger to your lips.

"let me concentrate." he said, earning him a glare as you gave him some space.

minho leaned onto the table, lining up his shot. it required some maneuvering to get his cue just right, but with a sharp thrust of the stick, the ball went rocketing into a corner pocket.

"let's go!" he cheered quietly. you scoffed behind him.

he had earned a second shot, so he walked back around to the other side of the table and lined up his next shot. the green striped ball went in as well. minho looked up at you with a gloating look, his smugness only growing when he saw a smile pull at the corner of your mouth. you were so whipped. it was cute.

now, for the eight ball.

this shot was tricky. the cue ball wasn't close to the black ball at all, so it meant he had to use one of your balls to hit it into whichever pocket he called.

"back left corner." he said aloud. with a deep breath, he lined up his shot and hit the cue ball just a bit harder than he would usually and sent it flying down the table, colliding with your ball, which collided with the eight ball...

...and sent it straight into the pocket he called.

minho practically threw his cue to the ground in his excitement, letting out a (soft) cry of excitement. something just came over him when he made good plays in pool- he couldn't help it.

that was certainly clear when he went running around the table again just to get in your face and brag.

except he didn't actually get to brag, because suddenly your hands were grabbing at his sides and he was being dragged to the ground.

"this'll teach you, you jerk!" you cried out as you staged your attack, tickling wherever you could reach while minho was still trying to understand what was happening.

he didn't even realize he was laughing until you started laughing with him, but then the sensations hit him like a truck. the familiar feeling of being tickled set his nervous system on fire as peals of laughter escaped his lips.

"NAHA!! jahahagi plehease!!" he choked out between laughs. "what did i dohoho?!"

you were sitting on his hips now, keeping him trapped beneath you as you went to town on his sides and abs. "what did you do? you really don't know?"

minho shook his head desperately.

"you've been an insufferable gloat all. day. long." you told him, punctuating each of the last three words with pokes to his bellybutton, earning some seriously embarrassing squeaks. "i decided it was time for me to put you in your place."

minho tried to come up with a witty reply, but your fingers dancing against his sides (getting dangerously close to his ribs) seemed to swallow his thoughts whole. all he could manage was a weak cry when you switched tactics and started massaging his ribs before he fell into wild cackles once again.

through his ticklish haze, minho could see you were having a great time. your cheeks were flushed and you had a wide smile on your face. seeing how pretty you looked was almost worth this punishment.

almost, but not quite.

a swipe of your fingers on his sensitive upper ribs was enough of an incentive to turn the tides. he grabbed your hips where you were straddling him and turned you both quickly to the side, ending up on top of you.

your eyes widened in surprise as you realized what he did. minho, still panting and giggling, brought his lips to yours in a soft kiss. it was the most affectionate he'd been all day, but it wasn't at all innocent.

while you kissed, he dug his fingers into your armpits.

"GAH!!" you screamed, trying to squirm away from his deft fingers. unfortunately, it seemed that he was just as good at pinning you as you were him.

minho smiled and pecked the side of your mouth. "aw, did you really no expect this?" he teased, worming his fingers deeper into your underarms. no matter how hard you tried to clamp them to your sides, the ticklish sensations never stopped.

you let out a shout of frustration as you laughed, batting and pushing at minho as much as you could without exposing more tickle spots.

"PLEHEASE!! min, i'm sohorry!!" you whined.

"oh are you? you started it so don't even act-," he was interrupted by someone clearing their throat.

chan stood in the doorway with his arms crossed, clearly half-awake and annoyed. "as much as i'm sure he deserved whatever started this, some of us are trying to sleep."

you pushed minho off of you with burning cheeks, unable to meet chan's eyes. minho chuckled and patted your back.

"we'll keep it down. sorry, chan~"

chan just grumbled out a "thanks" and walked away.

you groaned and leaned into minho, burying your face in his shoulder. "that was way too embarrassing..." you muttered.

he chuckled and pet your hair gently. "oh c'mon, it's just chan. nothing he hasn't seen before." you groaned again. "let's go to bed, hm?"

you nodded and minho stood up, grabbing your hand and hauling you to your feet. the two of you shuffled off to bed, feeling extra tired from the various competitions of the day. you didn't mind, though. life would be boring otherwise.

#stray kids x reader #skz x reader #stray kids fluff #kpop fluff #stray kids tickle #skz tickle #kpop tickle #lee know x reader #fluff #skzooweemama.asks #skzooweemama.writes #not proof read whoops

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visionsofmagic · 11 months

Photo

⋆ ― ◜week of celebs◝ ― ⋆

DAY THREE: robert pattinson x f!reader

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• summary: robert and you go for the met gala and when he sees you, he just realizes you are the prettiest girl once again. | wc: 1.3k | tags&warnings: fluff (believe me when I say it), a slight nsfw content too, before!met gala event, kissing, girlfriend!reader, robert is such a good boyfriend, gentle!rob, touching, dirty talk, playful!rob and reader, teasing, enjoy! [also, so sorry for the wait because I had to change my phone, going to practicum process and doing my finals, so, hope this chap will be good! thank u!

Robert knows you are so pretty – the prettiest girl alive he can see and feel. He is sure he is lucky to have you, as he always tells, believing you are his miracle, giving him happiness and affection his soul seeks for. However, he realizes these facts once again when he sees you in a dress that covers your body so beautifully that he fears that his vision go blind because of the light you are spreading with the dress he never seen before on you and your smile – oh, that gorgeous smile, he thinks, the one he can give his life for to see.

“Oh, love,” He tries to say as he makes his way to you, arms half open to hug you when he reaches his destination, “My love, you look –“ He can’t find any word enough to say how beautiful you look – even more than just a beauty. He can swear if you say you are an angel, he will believe right away because you look so much like an angel – with pureness and light only he sees thanks to being your boyfriend, the one you give your heart and soul to with body as well.

“You look so good that even if I use hundreds of words to describe it, it will not be enough.” He says in a genuine tone. He always tells truth to you – you don’t deserve lie, no one does, and he likes to be sure that he doesn’t say even white lies because lie is a lie, without matter of the color of it.

Smiling to him, you feel wonderful because you know how he means it when he says it. He is gentle with you – a perfect boyfriend you have, making every day of your life bearable, worth to live and happy.

“You are making me blush, honey.” You say as he stays in front of you, opening his arms wider enough for you to get his gesture and hug his neck tightly, feeling softness of the fabric of his suit. His hands find their places on your waist, pulling you closer, putting a few kisses on your hair and spends a moment to smell your hair, saying ‘hmm’ in a low voice – he is happy, so happy, to have you like this, in his arms, kissing freely and seeing your smile, hearing your little chuckles when he says, “You look like the sun on earth, you know that right?”

Breaking the hug a little, you look at his eyes, smirking playfully, “When you become the moon, I decided that I should be your sun.” I say, referring to his role as The Batman and how the character is belong to nights – to the moon of the nights. Robert is opposite to the Batman with all his gentleness, smiles – oh, those cute little smiles, light golden brown hair and blue eyes with full of sparkles, but, when you have a chance to tease him, you take it.

Chuckling, he puts a kiss on your nose, “You are always my sun, darling, even before I play that role,” He kisses your forehead, “My sun – the light of my life,” He kisses your cheeks one by one, “My love – the one I love from the deepest part of my heart and soul.” Lastly, he puts a kiss on your lips, warmness flowing from his to yours for a moment before he gets back and wait for your action. Oh, such a tease, you think but you play with his little game still.

Firstly, you kiss his nose like he did, “And you are my moon – making my night lighten up with your own gleam.” Then, I kiss his forehead, raising on my tiptoes as he lowers his head down a little with a chuckle, and I hit his shoulder gently with a smile, “My beloved who I want see as the first thing in the morning and the last thing in the night.” I kiss both of his cheeks that have light blushes on, “The one who has my heart and soul within my body,” Lastly, I kiss his lips, longer than his, wanting to feel him closer. Getting my gist, he hugs me tightly, closing the gap between our bodies, making them crash into each other as my hands on his neck travel into his hair, then to his shoulder, ending on his chest. The kiss take longer than I expect but I feel like he needs it – he needs to feel me long enough to let me go, and I agree to his idea because I want to have him too.

Between the kisses we share, I feel one of his hand goes up to my neck as the other one lowers down to my ass and I chuckle, saying, “Robert, I th –” I moan when he bites my lower lip, closing my eyes because of the feeling, unable to speak more and this makes him laugh playfully, knowing his own effect on me.

“You were saying something, sweetheart?” He asks but he doesn’t wait for my answer when he walks towards me, making me taking steps backwards and when my back find the surface of the nearest wall, I say, “We should go before it is too late.”

I want to stay though, letting him have his way with me and taking all the pleasure he can give but we can’t stay any longer before it is too late to go for the gala which he needs to go as his manager says.

“Just a few minutes, believe me,” He says, hands go under your long skirt as he pulls it up, making your thighs and legs be exposed to his eyes and when his hands touch your ass, he stops for a moment, eyes wide open as he asks in disbelief, “No underwear?” He almost sounds like he enjoys this too much.

With a sudden shy that hit me, I lower my head down, shrugging, I smile, “I – I wanted to tease you with it when we arrive the gala.”

He smirks, feeling shy like you do too but he is better for hiding it than you – always. “You are such a tease! I love it,” He kisses your neck; “You have no idea how much I want to tear this dress up and have you right here.” He speaks with no hesitation – only truth and lust can be heard in his attractive voice. You know how he can be a playboy so easily when it comes to you – only you.

“But we should go,” you say, taking his hands back from your ass even if you want him so much right now. “However, I can give you a promise though,” You say, smirking, making him furrow with curiosity on his face expression.

“And what is that?” He asks; hands stop on the wall, right beside your waist, caging you inside his body.

You put your hands on his neck, still having a smirk, “When we come back to the house, I will let you having your way with me – without no disapproval.”

He only laughs at your deal. Holding your chin with his fingers, he says, “My pretty girl – oh, I will take you with my way, you can be sure about that,” He lowers his head down, whispering into your ear intensely, “But who said I would not have you in the gala?”

It makes your legs shake in excitement because deep down, you know Robert will hold his promise, finding a way to give pleasure both to you and to him and only the idea enough to make you give him all.

Smiling, he puts a kiss on your cheek as he holds you from the waist. Then, he fixes your dress like a gentleman, asking you whether you are ready or not. When you nod, he takes you by the hand and smile widely, “Let’s go and make the whole world see how beautiful you are and that you are my beloved.”

The end. 💕

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itsgoghtime · 4 months

Text

This is What I Wished For

the biggest of thank you’s to @sarahsmi13s for this wonderful mood board 🫶

Words : 2233

CW : implied relationship age gap (wifey is in her 30’s), mentions of throat cancer and emotions around it, mentions of surgery

Admiral Kazansky. A man who had looked danger in the face and laughed. A man who knew how to love, and only found it once. A man who knew how to command, and had, for years.

A man who was reduced to the IV in his arm, quietly studying the plaques on his office wall.

The soft murmurs of conversation meandered in through the small sliver of opening in the doorway.

He knew she was worried.

It was in the inflection of her voice, the way it wobbled like jello in the air, more so than when she was excited or overwhelmed.

Voice. Tom had never considered how much he had taken his for granted. How often he had said something out of frustration, made an unnecessarily rude comment, or raised his voice in anger.

Now, all he wanted to do, was to fill the air with soft words. Kind words. Words to express his love to his sweet wife. But every time he tried, he coughed violently, unable to get very far with anything he wanted to say. He knew it broke her heart seeing him suffer.

Tom absolutely despised what this was doing to her. Nevermind what it was doing to him and how it was making him feel weak, feel incapable, feel undesirable. It was hurting her. It was hurting his Pookie, and he loathed his condition for that.

He chuckled. Pookie. It was an unusual pet name, but he learned of her affection for the Irish legend of Pookas at the beginning of their courtship - after they had watched that Jimmy Stewart movie he couldn't remember the title of, it had just... stuck.

Tom hadn't been able to give her his better years, and while she pushed back on it every time he told her this, he still felt guilty. She had told him that the age gap wasn't what mattered. As long as the love was there - and it definitely was - the better years were the ones spent together, even if they weren't the years typically associated with conventional relationships.

And then, after just a few short years of marital bliss, the diagnosis arrived. He couldn't shake his frustration with the whole situation. With himself.

Her footsteps came into the room. Tom didn't hear them at first, but he recognized them as he was pulled from his thoughts to look at Pookie. And oh, how he loved her.

She smiled softly at him, moving to sit on the arm of the chair, running a few affectionate fingers through his hair. It made him scowl slightly, knowing he had gelled it to perfection this morning, and that made her giggle.

Tom's free arm snaked around her hips, his hand resting comfortably on her curves. He wanted to say so much, to try and ease that look of anxious fear in her eyes that had been there since the day they had held hands at the hospital, sitting across from the doctor who had flipped their world upside down with just a few words.

But he couldn't. It strained him too much.

Somehow, Pookie read his mind like always, and she gently pressed her forehead to his.

Tom's head swirled with color as their noses bumped. His heart beat just a little faster. His arms felt just a little stronger, and after looking into those eyes of hers, there wasn't anything he couldn't do.

She lifted her head to look at the hanging bag, and he took the chance to nuzzle into her neck and breathe her in. He knew what was running through her mind. He didn't have to ask, he just knew.

Tom held her just a little tighter, pressing his lips to her neck with tenderness.

They remained this way a while, holding each other as the liquid in the bag drained at a painfully slow pace.

The hospice nurse called for her, and she left Tom with a kiss to his forehead before leaving to speak with the nurse.

"Mrs. Kazansky" was something Tom would never tire of hearing. He smiled and played with the ring on his left hand, trying not to focus on the needle in his arm. The best decision of his life, Tom was certain, was marrying her and making her his.

Without a doubt, Mrs. Kazansky was his pride and joy.

A little while later, the bag was empty. The nurse came back in and helped him with the IV, putting a bandaid on his arm and giving him strict instructions to rest.

She then left the room with the equipment, and he could hear his wife wish the nurse a Merry Christmas as she departed.

Christmas. Tom had almost forgotten, considering he had never imagined himself having his treatments Christmas Eve. Tom had never really loved the holidays, until Pookie came along and made everything magical.

He quietly waited as he heard her footsteps re approach. She stood in front of him, holding her hands out to help him up.

Tom, at the beginning of treatments, had refused help getting up. He was strong enough, and didn't want to seem incapable of standing on his own. Little had he realized, this was for her. She wanted to feel helpful. She wanted to hold him after he'd just gone through hell.

So, Tom took those sweet hands into his own, slowly standing and looking into her eyes.

Her eyes sparkled with a soft sort of excitement, and she led him into the kitchen, seating him at the counter. His smile widened as he saw the cookies. He knew there had been something sweet wafting into his office while he finished some work this morning. And here it was.

She pulled frosting from the fridge, three different colors, and set them in front of him with a butter knife. She moved again, and opened the overhead cupboard, sighing softly as she saw that his favorite sprinkles had migrated to the top shelf.

Tom could just see the cogs turning in her head, debating on getting the stepladder or just climbing on the counter. Instead, he slid off the stool, shuffling over to her and reaching up to grab the sprinkles himself.

Pookie opened her mouth to protest, and Tom put a finger over her lips, his hand moving to cup her cheek as his thumb brushed along her bottom lip. He gave her his usual look, making her smirk and shake her head at him.

He kissed her once, then moving back to the counter and settling in on the stool, leaning into the back of it.

Tom and her spent the evening with Christmas movies in the background, decorating the small batch of cookies she had made. He kept getting up, to change the movie, to get a spatula, to get a separate plate so they could give some to Maverick when he came to visit in the morning. She continued to warn him, trying to get him to relax and let her get up and grab whatever it was, but Tom gave her his signature wave and little furrowed brow to tell her that he was fine.

About an hour later, just as his lovely wife had estimated (not that he would ever admit she was right), he was exhausted. He slumped forward, arms folded on the counter, head down.

He felt her leave, and his brow furrowed slightly. What was she doing?

Tom lifted his head, and found Pookie sitting next to him again, with two wrapped presents in her hands.

Christmas pajamas.

Smiling softly, he put his glasses back on, and took his package from her. This year, because of his treatments, he hadn't felt well enough to go and pick them out with her. Tom only hoped she hadn't finally purchased the pink bunny costume from that annoying Christmas movie. She'd been teasing ever since they were married, and he just hoped...

His sigh of relief when he saw the pajamas did not escape Mrs. Kazansky, who laughed. His eyes met hers, eyebrows raising slightly as he looked between her and her wrapped pajamas.

Pookie's sweet smile widened. She unwrapped her pajamas, holding them up for Tom to see.

They matched.

She gently nudged him, motioning towards their bedroom as she moved to clean up the kitchen. Tom watched her for a moment before shuffling back to their room, to change into his pajamas.

He succeeded with the bottoms, but sat on the edge of the bed, fumbling with the buttons on the front of the top. Surely, he couldn't be that exhausted, right?

Tom yawned softly, and she came into the room, with her pajamas. She slipped into them so easily, his eyes teasing over her figure he loved so much. He wished he hadn't taken for granted all those years of how easy it was to move around. He'd snatch her up into his arms right now, if he could.

And then, there she was. He didn't even have to ask for it, but she began doing up the buttons on his shirt. His eyes watched her face carefully, his hands traveling to rest on her hips to pull her closer.

She smiled down at him, kissing his forehead gently, then holding his glasses to him.

Tom put his glasses back on, standing up and taking her hand in his. He led her out of the bedroom and into the living room, by the fireplace. She moved to the kitchen while Tom plopped down into the armchair by the smoldering embers of the fire Pookie had started earlier. He studied her as she moved around the kitchen, finishing making the tea she had started before changing into pajamas.

She set the tea cups on their saucers, and set them on the little table next to Tom.

He held his arms out, making small grabbing motions with his fingers. He wanted to hold her.

Pookie settled into his lap, and Tom kissed her forehead.

"My darling wife, I want to give you something." His voice felt like knives in his throat, and it concerned her. "I want to sing to you." He coughed a little.

"Tom, you need to rest your voice, you can't..."

"No, Pookie. I want to sing to you, one last time."

Tom sipped his warm tea, clearing his throat.

"Let me call you sweetheart, I'm in love with you..."

The song began raspy, as he had suspected. But as he continued, by the grace of the stars, Tom Kazansky's voice smoothed slightly, letting him carry the tune he so desperately wanted to convey to his wife.

"Let me hear you whisper that you love me too..."

It was the same tune they had danced to just a few years ago at their wedding. He could still see her in his arms, in that gorgeous dress she loved so much, swaying softly in the middle of a show floor on base. The lights were dim, just as they were now. It was a perfect moment - although, any moment with his wife was a perfect moment.

Tom felt Pookie snuggle further into him as he continued.

"Keep the love light glowing in your eyes so true..."

Tom felt the pressure in his throat finally give in, and he began to cough. Pookie moved swiftly, handing him the warm tea. Tom held her hands on the cup as he sipped from it again, soothing the soreness. He felt his self loathing begin to rise. He couldn't even sing to her one last time before his surgery rendered him basically voiceless. His frustration began to bubble, until Pookie began to sing.

His eyes shifted, seeing how her gaze sparkled with tears that reflected the Christmas lights on the mantle so well.

There were few times in his life that Admiral Thomas Kazansky had truly softened. A few moments for Maverick, a few for a couple colleagues. Pookie dominated most of his moments of vulnerability.

This one would top them all.

Tom felt his frustration with himself melt as she set his cup of warm tea down and took his face in her hands. Through her tears, and her broken voice that bled with affection, she sang the last line to him.

"Let me call you sweetheart, I'm in love with you..."

Tom took a deep breath, and like they had so many times before, they repeated that last line in unison, and he thanked his lucky stars he could finish for her, his voice smoothing once more for just a moment.

"Let me call you sweetheart, I'm in love... with... you."

Pookie kissed him softly before giving him his tea back to sip from, drinking from her own cup before setting it down and nuzzling into his neck.

Tom hummed softly, seeming to ask what she was thinking.

"I loved it."

"Pookie..."

It was her turn to put her finger on his mouth to stop him from speaking.

"Rest, darling. I loved it, and I love you, and that's all that matters."

She glanced at the tree and smiled, and settled back in his arms, her head comfortably nestled into his neck. Tom felt himself relax too. She loved him.

And, under the tree - if having her in his arms wasn't enough - in the morning, he'd get to open the third set of matching pajamas. Little pajamas.

Maybe there was hope for the Kazanksy's next year.

#tom kazansky x reader #tom iceman kazansky #tom kazansky #val kilmer #top gun #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick #iceman x reader #iceman #christmas #christmas imagine

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iznsfw · 1 year

Note

hi, can u write a wonyoung x male reader fluff?

Even Princesses Cry Sometimes

IZ Days of Christmas: Day 12 - Jang Wonyoung

IVE's Jang Wonyoung x Male/Female Reader Fluff

2,123 words

Categories | short, slightly angsty, idol!Wonyoung, caring!reader, tears and cuddles

Very short and late, but who cares?

Maybe I'll catch up with Yujin and Yuri some of these days.

It’s always another day, another front she’s putting up. Another disguise. Of course, only you know about the partial artificiality of it all. When she tries to put on a brave face throughout her schedules, or tells a particularly rude fan to take care of themself despite their scathing words, part of your heart just aches with the knowledge. Like you, she’s still so young - no eighteen-year-old has to bear with the pressure of the world burdening their shoulders like rocks.

No eighteen-year-old has gone through as much as Jang Wonyoung has. You want to make it easier for her, but she almost never lets you. She’s built such a great wall around herself that even you, her partner, can’t break through. Even if you summoned all the might into your fists and beat around its bricks, it would take long before you can even make a hole.

For the wall to be broken, the one who built it must reach out.

Gaze at the television and wonder when that will happen. It’s rarer than anything. But there she stands, gorgeous as always. Her dark hair flows in the night, and the blue dress that drapes around her form makes her look like a princess. With the colors and her makeup, she can easily pass as a Korean Cinderella. No, she can’t be Cinderella - Wonyoung never needs someone to save her. She was never a damsel in distress, which is why she’s expressed her dislike for the tale so many times:

(“It’s so… fucking odd, jagi-ya,” laughed Wonyoung, over a pack of potato salted-egg chips, while she lounged with you on the sofa. The TV was on, the classical Cinderella was playing, and Wonyoung was… well, unimpressed. She ran through her locks of messy curled hair and added, “I understand the situation. I really do—”

“You don’t,” you interrupted truthfully, but not without a smile. Oh, never without a smile; Wonyoung is your happy pill, no matter what she says.

Wonyoung laughed loudly, pushing you in the chest hard. Laughter overtook her tiny frame. “Fine, fine!” she admitted. “I don’t, but see here… this is fucking ridiculous. It’s just- ugh!” She rolled her eyes and gave you an exasperated look. “But you get me, don’t you? You get what I mean?”

There was a hint of fear in those beautiful eyes of hers. Something told you that the question was born not out of frustration, but was instead from caution nested in the swindle of circumstance the universe had blown her to. Was Wonyoung afraid she would offend you? Had the headlines and tabloid articles created a phobia she’d never dare tell anyone - not even you?

But then your lips found her forehead creased with lines of worry, and you felt them relax beneath the touch of your love. Wonyoung settled into your arms as if she were your little songbird, and you were the only nest she found that would not break.

“I do, hon,” you told her. “I do.”)

Fine, you’d settle for her being no one because not one princess out there can match Wonyoung in everything she does. She’s the perfect girl, the perfect idol. She’s pretty, talented, and charismatic enough to attract all of her success by herself. No girl her age is at the point of success she has at her fingertips. But it’s something that can easily be snatched from her with just the wrong move. Everyday is a challenge for her; too much smiling equals to her being too flirtatious, but little smiling and winks mean that she’s too reserved and self-centered to take notice of the people around her. In everything she does, begrudged people find a way to twist it around into a bad light.

You admire how resilient she is. Much to the shock of her admirers and fanatics, it isn’t exactly ideal to live a life being so closely watched. Not even with all the wealth she possesses. The way she has learned to cope with it independently teaches you more life lessons than any seminar could. But you want to remind her sometimes that she doesn’t have to be strong all the time with you. You can take her falls. You have each other, don’t you? Isn’t that what partners are for?

The fall of the princess is televised, put out there for everyone to pick apart and make fun of. Worst of all, you aren't able to catch her.

Wonyoung is happy to find out that her group, the monster rookie idol band IVE, won a lot of medals and marked new milestones. But now tears slip down her beautiful face. The camera focuses on her. It loves her, craves her - every bit of Jang Wonyoung is too pretty to not be captured and immortalized; of course it does. She sees it and tries to stop, but the fat drops of grief - grief for what could have been, what should have been; grief for her young self who wasn’t and isn’t able to enjoy the last few years of her childhood - continue to pour down like rain.

As the colorful confetti falls from the roof of the grand stadium, she falls, too, and the members start to take notice. Yujin leans over to ask if she needs a tissue, and Jiwon rubs a comforting hand on her back. But none quench the need for a hug she has buried deep inside her heart. She needs someone beyond her friends slash co-workers. She needs you.

Wonyoung looks around. There are only crowds and crowds of noisy fans and cameras flashing. But her observant eyes scrutinize every corner in the large room for any sign of you. There’s still hope in her heart that you’ll come dashing into the show to help her. Sort of like a knight in shining armor in a children’s fairy tale.

Jagi-ya? Where are you? I need you right now, please. You can’t leave me here.

Then she remembers: her life may be glamorous, but it isn’t a fairytale. She’s only one girl, in a massive crowd of people she doesn’t know, trying to make it through the night. Her thoughts are making it more than difficult though. They consist of the pain she went through to get here: those dark nights where she practiced till her legs felt like they were going to snap, the harsh scolding she received from teachers, days when her schedules were so packed that she didn’t even have the time to eat or even breathe…

Wonyoung’s makeup is stained with her own sadness. She’s gorgeous - that’s an indisputable fact, she’s talented, she’s young and successful. But what are the hardships she had to bear and all its blooming fruits worth if she doesn’t have you?

She’s torn up from the inside. She needs you now, more than anything, yet you are nowhere to be found. But it isn’t your fault. She’s been too reserved and private after all, dealing with her matters and affairs by herself. It’s only natural that you would think that she can handle her tears. Compared to everything she has to handle, tears are merely a little thing. You’re already used to the idea of her being self-reliant, so why would you show up now?

Her phone buzzes all of a sudden. One click at the side of the costly phone case, she’s able to see your messages.

You | 11:47 PM | Hey, princess?

You want to take the night off a little early? Watch some clueless? :)

And she thought you’d never come.

Wonyoung crashes between your rounded arms. This time, you don’t worry about messing up her hair, which must have taken hours to curl. You don’t hold yourself back from taking her in your arms, although the stylists warned her not to ruin the pretty blue dress. No, you bury your face into her neck, kissing it over and over. You’re happy to see her; only meeting her less these past few weeks has made you lonelier than you’d like to admit. And you know that she’s happy too; her tearful, beautiful eyes sparkle when she gazes up at you. But you also know that, although she would rather die than admit it, she’s been missing the comfort of someone caring for her.

She’s a princess, and you’re her knight in shining armor. Wonyoung rarely needs you, much less a knight to come save her. But she appreciates your love. She’ll hide it behind blushes and playful circles of her eyes, but she loves you. It comforts her that you do, too.

People are staring. The cameras start flashing. The same fear gathers up in Wonyoung’s heart again, but this time, she shoves it aside. She’s not going to hide her love for you anymore. She won’t let anyone get in her way.

The wall has finally broken and deteriorated.

Wonyoung seizes your face in between her slim hands, and kisses you deeply. It surprises you; her full lips are extremely soft, brushing over your pink ones and locking them with hers. Her eyes close, but your eyelids remain parted. This time, you’re the one scared. You aren’t scared of your own reputation, but for Wonyoung. What will the media do when they find out she has a partner already? Oh, how they’d villainize her! How they’d paint her into a promiscuous, indifferent queen bee!

“W-Wonyoung,” you stammer, when she finally stops. “The, the media—”

“Darling, please. I don’t care anymore. I just want you.”

Her words feed into a phone-installed recorder nearby. The woman holding it looks horrified, but Wonyoung simply gives her a coy wink. You smile; that’s the Jang Wonyoung you know.

You smile sincerely. Brush the tears from her face with your thumb, and realize just how much you love Wonyoung. It’s like destiny tied your threads together from the beginning. You were just a fan of her back in Produce 48 because you love how brave she was to put herself out there, despite being your age only. Hell, you couldn’t do that. When she met you at a fanmeeting and discreetly passed you her number, you were on top of the world. It was straight out of a fanfiction.

But all fanfictions end. That can’t be said about you and her. You’re best friends, lovers, and frenemies all at once. Your relationship is built around deep friendship, and that’s why you’re certain that the love you share with Wonyoung will go on forever.

“That’s my girl,” you whisper, kissing her forehead. It’s only you and her in this stadium. All the others are faceless ghosts, nothing to worry about. “Movie night?”

Wonyoung smiles giddily. “You bet!”

For the first time in years, Wonyoung completely cuddles up in your lap. Thank your parents for having tall genes; if you were any shorter than Wonyoung, you would be the one seated in her lap. It would be the other way around.

You still keep CDs, so you’re able to watch Clueless with her on the television. She’s raptly watching the iconic chick flick, mimicking the main character with “As if!”s and laughing afterwards. But you’re more interested in her rather than the film itself. Wonyoung is the prettiest when she’s happy. The companies love her trendy poses when she shoots magazine covers or photos, but her most charming self is this:

Half-moon eyes, mouth stretched into a giggly grin, and her hand becoming the resting place of her cheek as she laughs over and over at the comedic timings of the movie. Her brown hair in its uncurled natural state resting at her shoulders, which are not trapped in one of the stage outfits anymore, but rather a big, gray sweatshirt that was once yours. You want it back, but she looks better in it than you do, so you speak nothing about it.

Wonyoung falls asleep just when Clueless is about to reach its conclusive end. With strong, trained arms, you carry her over to your shared bed and tuck her to bed. She stirs a little, but she doesn’t open her eyes. She only smiles, knowing you have her back now, and beckons you under the sheets.

Slide under the comforter and wrap a protective arm around her. Moments like these make you happily remember that Jang Wonyoung isn’t merely just an idol, but your girlfriend. Your little spoon. Your baby rabbit. At the same time, you match all her curved puzzle pieces, and act the role of being her partner, big spoon, and a caring person who won’t let any hunter find her.

You’re made for each other. And as you snuggle closer to Wonyoung, your puzzle pieces connect. You promise, silently, to never let go.

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