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gumiluver · 7 months

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NO PREP? NAUGHTY GIRL. ~ JJK NSFW SCENARIOS

synopsis: you let him hit it without foreplay ;)

(pls prep!! foreplay is super important!!)

cover pic credit: Aloneexe19 on pinterest

lovers <3: afab!reader, gojo satoru, geto suguru, nanami kento, fushiguro/zen’in toji, ryomen sukuna

PART TWO <3 | EAT ME! ~ GOJO

byr/important: the content written in this fic is not suitable for individuals under the age of 18, minors please do not interact

cw: nsfw, pwp, dacyphilia (satoru, suguru), manhandling (all characters), dark content(-ish) (all characters), pussy slapping (sukuna ofc), light bondage (sukuna)

Satoru 🖤

Loves a good challenge, especially if it deals with him fucking your pretty pussy into oblivion.

Satoru doesn’t really think you’d be able to take him all fully tho. You’re his perfect pillow princess and he’s your knight in shining armor. He’d do anything to please you, and that usually meant lots of foreplay. He loved to see you absolutely drenched, he makes it a personal goal of his to make you soak the bed each time y’all fuck.

So when you come up to him and tell him you wanna spice things up, add a little fun to the mix, he’s a bit taken back. No foreplay?? Is this a punishment??

Your sex lives were never boring, of course, but who doesn’t love a little sexual exploration?

He’s quick to move things into the bedroom, stripping you down to nothing and laying you on your side. He’s got his back to your chest, spooning you gently as he grips your inner thigh and hoists it over his hip—granting him special access to your puffy pussy.

The feel of his washboard abs against your back and his erect cock poking your entrance made you all hot and bothered. Your legs being spread and pinned with his own only furthered that vulnerability, his manhandling making your pussy throb, “let me do it ‘toru,” you whisper shyly, reaching your hand down to line his pretty tip up to your pussy. He smirks, backing his hand away and caressing the curve of your hip. He cups your breast and places gentle kisses across your neck, biting here and there along the way.

You’re struggling to push him inside, his tip too big for your pert hole. You whine a bit, trying to swivel your hips around in hopes that his tip will slip in. He chuckles at your measly attempts, “want some help with that pretty girl?”

Before you can even answer, the hand that was grasping your tits shoots down to grip the base of his cock. Your little hand suddenly losing the grip you had on him as he starts to press his tip into your pretty pussy. You let out a high-pitched moan, already feeling so much resistance with just his tip. Tears welling a bit in your eyes as you look up to Satoru, whose piercing blue eyes are carefully watching your reactions.

But this time, Satoru feels something different—something foreign to him. It makes his tip pulsate ridiculously and his balls tighten to the point of pain, ‘it can’t be…’ he thinks, giving an experimental thrust to push an inch inside you again. You let out another loud moan as a couple tears start to slide down your cheek, eyes closed tightly and brows furrowed.

“H-holy fuck, ahhh,” he groans out. The pornographic sounds erupting from your boyfriend makes your pussy unconsciously clench unbelievably tight, so much so that it might push out the 1/4th of his cock that’s just barely being pushed into you. You’ve never heard him so loud, so animalistic; it makes your head spin with lust and want.

You’re starting to squirm around him, breathing heavily as he continues to sheath his cock inside of you inch by agonizing inch. The pain a bit more pronounced than the pleasure, but you knew that once the pleasure hit, oh…it would hit. He’s peppering kisses along your jaw and licks away the tears that happen to slip past your eyes, he can’t help but feel his dick twitch each time your innocent doe-like eyes look at him, almost begging for him to hurry up and bottom out.

“Such a good fuckin girl,” he grunts out, starting to feel himself lose control over seeing you struggle and cry over taking his dick—makes him feel like a school boy busting a nut for the first time. The tightness of your princess cunt makes his heart skip a beat, subconsciously bucking his hips further and completely bottoming out inside you.

You gasp suddenly, gripping the bedsheets and letting out a languid moan that radiates throughout the house. He sees you try to worm your other hand down to your pussy, wanting to add a bit more pleasure into the mix by rubbing your neglected clit. He chuckles, grabbing your wrist and placing it back to your side. He laces his hand with your own to prevent you from trying any stunts like that again, not wanting to ruin all the fun that the two of you were having, “ah ah ah princess, remember what you said? no foreplay, so don’t even think about touching my pussy,”

Suguru 🖤

Was curious to see if his pretty baby could actually take him all in without his usual foreplay.

Suguru loved to spend hours in between your thighs, playing with your cute cunt — even when you were overstimulated and begging for him to let you have a break. He just couldn’t help himself to your slutty hole—so slick, so pretty.

He was an inquisitive man by nature, always questioning the outcome of his actions and taking leaps of faith to better understand the inner workings of people—especially you. He loves studying your body, your reactions, what you like and what you love, what makes you go crazy and what makes you lose your sanity.

So when you bring up an idea, a “challenge for yourself,” so you say—he’s more than happy to take up your offer. What kind of loving boyfriend would deny his baby what she wanted?

“Remember, tap my leg three times if it gets too much,” Suguru says, gripping onto your thighs. You nod, smiling at him as a way to reassure his mind, “I trust you sugu, s’okay, I wan’ it,”

That was all it took for Suguru to flip like a switch. Sure he treats you like a princess, but he has to be mindful over his constant need to manhandle you. He’s suddenly got you folded up into a mating press, your knees pushed up to your head while he leans dangerously close to your lips, his eyes piercing into yours. “Can’t wait to mark you up with my lips baby,” he says, a hum rumbling from his chest as he closes the gap to give you a brief kiss.

He comes back up to take a breath, and you can’t help but notice the darkness in his eyes—a cloudiness that makes you question if you’re his lover or his prey. A cheshire cat-like smile blesses his sharp face, his gaze begins to travel down towards your empty little hole, ‘so sad,’ he thinks, quick to position himself to line his tip up with your cunny and fill you up to the brim. You whimper at his abrasiveness, your pussy clenching with anticipation.

He starts to push his tip into you, slowly, looking up every so often to gaze upon your angelic face. Those innocent little eyes now closed and scrunched together, tears threatening to spill out as you cover your mouth with your hand to hold in your pathetic whimpers and whines.

Suguru clicks his tongue in disapproval, pinning your wrists above your head and pushing himself in your tight cunt a bit deeper—a simple warning. You knew better to hide those pretty moans from him, but those same moans teetered across the border between moans and screams of pleasure.

“Look at you, all stretched out nice and pretty for me,” he says, a venom-like lustfulness lacing his tone. You couldn’t help the quiver that overwhelmed your pussy from his nasty words, making his cock slip in a bit easier despite the lack of prep. He lets out a long, low groan as he continues to ease in, careful to not push your limits. While he was a freak in the sheets, that didn’t excuse him from employing the basic ground rules of consent.

And if Suguru knew one thing for sure, it was everything and anything dealing with you.

Your whimpers are bouncing off the walls, no longer able to control the projection of your voice. Your body starting to become overwhelmed by the sheer stretch his cock brings to your little pussy. The depth his dick is reaching inside you felt as if he was trying to reach for your soul. A soul for him to consume, for him to claim. You couldn’t control your voice, and now you couldn’t control your body.

And Suguru liked that. In fact, he loved seeing you go absolutely fucking dumb when he bottoms out in you, just so that he can bring you back into reality. The power he holds over your body and the amount of trust you place in him makes his head spin and his heart burn with love. He can’t help but soothe your quivering body to help ground you back to him, “your thighs are shakin’ so much baby, need me to slow down for ya?”

Kento 🖤

Was shocked to hear that you wanted to attempt a feat as big as that, but when he heard your explanation he couldn’t help but feel his heart swell with love and his dick ache with anticipation.

Your innocent claims of wanting to alleviate his tension by offering your own body for him to use in any way he wanted was dangerous. His absolute strength has been known to make powerful curses and sorcerers shutter with a simple glance of his, and he always made sure to separate that strength away from you.

That’s not to say he was never tempted to mark up that beautiful body of yours. See the shape of his fingers imprint themselves on your hips. Hearing your pleading cries and whimpers for him to ease up or slow down. Oh yes…a part of him has always yearned to see you lose your sanity when he has his way with you.

“Wanna help you relieve your stress, daddy,” you whispered in his ear, kissing his neck slowly and nibbling at that one spot underneath his jawline, “wan’ you to take your frustration out on me,” you mumbled, voice laced with so much need that it made his knees weak. He groaned, a deep rumble emitting from his chest that made you squeeze your thighs together.

He can feel his rationality slip, his muscles unnaturally flexing as he tries to calm himself down before he looses his composure and does something he will regret. He looks down at you, and you peer up at him. “Fuck,” he thinks, realizing he probably shouldn’t have looked to you for reassurance when you looked so damn delicious and needy. He can’t help himself when he lunges for you and and pins you to the wall. A hand wrapping around your head to grip the base of your hair, making your neck jolt upwards and force you to meet his eyes. His ease with making you so pliable demonstrated his ungodly strength and turned you into nothing but a shaky mess.

“This is a one time thing, understood?” He grunts out, his sanity slipping from him. He always swore to never bring work home, to never use work-stress as as an excuse for misbehavior. But god damn did your offer sound tempting. You sounded tempting. To make matters worse, you mutter out three words that finally make him snap:

“Don’t be gentle,”

He groans and strips you of your clothes like a starved man. The veins in his arms pulsating, his breath turning into pants, his cock absolutely throbbing—pulsating. It felt like his pants were about to rip from how hard his fucking cock felt.

He moves his hand towards your cute pussy and starts to play with your clit, kissing you feverishly and sucking your tongue into his mouth as he tries to prep you. Your quick to react, pushing his hands away and moaning into the kiss, “just put it in k-kento, wanna feel aah—all of you,” you say during the kiss, moaning into his mouth sweetly. You can’t help but want for him to stretch that thick cock of his inside your lil cunny.

He’s quick to turn you around, face and chest now pressed against the wall while your ass juts out for him to admire. He’s biting his lip, groping your ass and pressing his cock against your folds.

But he doesn’t press his tip in yet. Oh no, he wants to watch you push yourself back into his cock. After all, you insisted on foregoing his usual time spent in between your legs, licking and suckling onto your pretty little cunt.

Quickly taking the hint, you start to back your pussy up onto his cock. The burning stretch from taking his tip already making you gasp and shake. It felt like he was splitting you open, ‘maybe I should’ve let him prep me after all’ you think, gaslighting yourself into fearing the worst. He gives a soft chuckle at your poor attempt to take him in and couldn’t help but tease you a bit, “you can fit more than that now can’t you, darling?”

Toji 🖤

Thinks it’s funny that you want to take all of him in without any prep. You? His pretty pillow princess?

No matter how many times he fucks you, he still needs to spend hours between your thighs to ensure that you are absolutely soaked with your arousal.

Despite his efforts, you always manage to struggle taking his cock in one fell swoop. Whining and whimpering about how “it’s too big” or “you’re too deep,” and Toji would be lying if he said it didn’t stroke his ego.

He almost says no — almost, until you started mouthing off to him. He just had to put his brat back in place, maybe teach you a lesson or two.

“So desperate for it aren’t ya? Well, if ya want it so bad then ya better start takin’ it.” You shifted on his lap, hovering above his cock to line yourself up with his tip. Toji spreads his body out, completely overtaking the couch the two of you were currently on. He rests his head on his hand, an act to reinforce his big ego by having absolutely no intent on assisting you on your journey to wreck your pussy. After all, Toji was never one to reward bratty behavior.

“Come on now, take all of my cock baby. What happened to that attitude? Huh? Already too fucked out from tryna’ take my dick, huh baby? Yeaaaah, that’s right baby, go on n’ sink down on my cock,” he taunted, his eyes wild with amusement and lust as his hands gripped your ass and waist firmly. It felt like you were choking—the stretch so overwhelming that it literally took your breath away.

He noticed your shallow breathing and swiftly moves a hand from your waist to grip your chin — snapping your attention back to him and how good he was making you feel.

“Breathe,” he commands, and you’re suddenly grounded back to reality as your lungs fill with much needed air. Your walls relax a bit more, giving Toji the opportunity to bottom out inside you fully by pushing your hips down.

You belt out a moan Toji has never heard the likes of. He feels his balls tighten as he watches this absolute goddess above him become completely destroyed by his massive cock. He puffs his chest out and let’s out a loud groan, followed by a low growl,” good girl…now get to work,”

Sukuna 🖤

Has always like the idea of ravishing your pussy with one thrust of his cock, and thought that it would be the perfect punishment to give out to you the next time you forget your place.

And god damn it did he want to put you in your place right fucking now. The way your smirking up at him, raising your brow and folding your arms across your chest. That big ass ego of yours starting to make you feel on top of the world, seeing as you’ve made the king of curses become a pussy whipped simp who would literally set the world on fire for you.

You knew he would never do anything to actually hurt you, but that didn’t mean he abstained from all of his sadistic ways; and you, being a masochist, loved to set him off.

You shudder with anticipation, a devilish smile appearing on Sukuna’s face as he hovers over your trembling form. He has your wrists tied above your head as his massive thighs spread your own thick ones apart. A light sheen of sweat covers your skin that creates an aura around you—resembling a light of protection that coaxes Sukuna to corrupt it, to do his worst. His cock already hard from gazing upon your naked form, so docile and helpless.

God it makes his cock fucking ache.

“You did this to me, now you’re gonna fix it,” he grunts out, stroking his thick cock in front of you to add emphasis to the problem that you caused. You whimpered, more than ready to take whatever cruel punishment he has intended for you.

Your plush pussy clenched aimlessly, begging to be stuffed by your king. You’re squirming around helplessly as you watch him pump his cock, drool starting to pool in your mouth, “pleaseeee ‘kuna, hurry uuuup,” you whine, shifting your hips upwards as if to beckon his cock to you. Your tantalizing hips and bratty attitude continuing to stir the fire within Sukuna.

He scowls at you menacingly, smacking your thigh, covertly showing his disapproval of your behavior, “you’ll take what I give you, when I give it to you, ” giving your pussy a light spank before he brushes his tip against your folds. A single swipe only, just to rile you up a bit more.

You’re huffing and squirming even more now, starting to feel antsy over the lack of stimulation Sukuna was giving you. He usually gives you so much pleasure all in one go that it becomes too much, so this lack of touch and stimulation makes your heart skip a beat—not from excitement either, but out of fear.

As you’re getting lost in your thoughts, you’re quick to miss Sukuna line himself up towards your tiny pussy, slamming himself into you with one. sharp. thrust.

“Thaaaaat’s it slut, take this dick, fuuuuuck,” he groans loudly, reveling in the way your tight lil cunny squeezes his fat cock and how your usual angelic voice has morphed into a whorish scream. He’s pushed himself so far into you that you feel yourself inadvertently creaming around him. The sudden onslaught of his cock piercing into your cunt shocked the pleasure system of your brain and sent you overboard, coaxing you quickly to the brink of an orgasm.

But this time, Sukuna meant business. He’s let you get away with this attitude for far too long; to reward you would just reinforce that bad behavior. As quick as he is to thrust himself fully into you, he’s just as quick to pull his cock out; and before you can even complain about it, Sukuna’s hand expertly moves to cover your mouth. He’s glaring at you, an ominous smirk plastered on his face as he scolds you, “you better not cum until I tell you to, I don’t care how good it feels you better hold that shit in, understand?”

A/N: Thanks for reading! This is my first time posting for the jjk fandom—what did y’all think? Do I hear a part twoooo? 🤔😳

Likes, comments, follows, reblogs, and any other form of interaction is greatly appreciated <3 #supportcreators

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lancermylove · 2 months

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Things You Do That He Doesn't Understand (HC)

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland

Pairing: Leaders with fem!Reader

Warning: None

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Wake up at an ungodly hour so that you can do your hair and makeup before going to work or school. You are not going to a party or a modeling show, so just use those hours to rest. Honestly, it's okay if your hair isn't perfect and your face looks natural.

Collecting anything. Leona can't understand how you have so much patience managing a collection of items. However, he finds it a little amusing when you agonize over not being able to find that miniature pizza to put in your mini kitchen collection.

Shapewear. Do you honestly like the feel of someone squeezing your organs out of your body? If so, just ask him for a hug. Leona will be more than happy to give you a bone-crushing hug.

Complex hair routine. Malleus likes to watch you do your hair, but it makes his head spin. Why do you need 50 different products for your hair? You look fine without putting those products in your hair.

Fear of abandoned places. Why are you scared to go into the castle that looks like something will jump out at you from the corner at any moment and attack you? It's really not that scary, says a powerful dragon who is over 200 cm tall.

Need for fluff. He finds it amusing that whenever you see fluffy things, you absolutely have to touch them no matter what, even if it means crossing a pit filled with lava. Sometimes, he wants to wear a fluffy coat so that you stay glued to him and can't stop touching him his coat.

Shave only half of your legs. Just take a few minutes to shave your entire legs.

Going to sleep with makeup on. NO, just NO! How dare you commit such an atrocious crime against your skin? He knows you might be tired, but take five minutes to clean your face or call him. He will do it for you. Vil better not find your face transferred on your pillow when he walks into your room to wake you up in the morning.

Telling your best friend/girlfriends everything. Do they honestly need to know how good he is at kissing or anything else? That's between the two of you, so why do you have to tell them? Vil finds it embarrassing that you are discussing such private affairs with your female friends.

Large handbags. Some of the handbags you carry are half his size. Why do you need such a huge bag? Are you hiding a pet or child in there? Also, why is it so heavy? Do you have dumbbells inside?

Expandable stomach. Riddle can't understand how, in the morning, your stomach looks one way, but after dinner, you look like you expecting a child. You tried to explain to him that's how women's stomachs work, but he still can't wrap his head around it.

Long nails. How do you keep your nails so long and manage to do things, especially if your nails are the lengths of claws? Whenever you struggle to open a can tab or pick up a flat object from a table, Riddle crosses his arms and waits to lecture you.

Worry about weight. Why worry about numbers when you could just enjoy eating? Food is too good to resist, so don't fight the urge and enjoy your life!

Impeccable memory. How do you remember what he said fifty days ago when the two of you were talking in the evening? Does your brain have a date/time stamp log with all the conversations you had? This means he can't get away with anything. T_T

Multitasking. How do you manage to do so many things at once and not mess up? Kalim can't understand why your mind is able to handle so many computations at once; he can't even handle one thing at a time. He doesn't know whether to be impressed or be scared.

Spend hours in the bathroom. Why does it take you a few hours to come out of the bathroom? Do you just sit there and watch an entire movie? If you do, why not just do it on your bed or sofa? It's much more comfortable.

The number of shoes. Why do you have 500 million shoes? Also, can we talk about high heels? Why do you wear them? Azul can't even understand how Vil and some of the other students are able to walk around in killer high heels. Unless you use them as a self-defense weapon.

Math is scary. What? It's just a bunch of numbers that you need to add, divide, subtract, or multiply. What's so hard about it? Then, he remembers he has a special talent for doing mental math and that not everyone is able to. Azul apologizes.

The urge to party every weekend. Why do you want to party every weekend? No, wait, why do you want to party in general? Too many people everywhere. Too many eyes and ears on you.

Details. Why do you need to ask the whys? He told you the truth, did he? Then why do you still need details? Can't you just accept the simple answer and let him move on?

Crying while watching romance movies. It's just a bunch of actors acting, so why are you crying? Seeing your tears fazes him quite a bit. So, when you start crying during an emotional scene, Idia gets startled and freezes, not knowing what to do.

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➣ Twisted Wonderland [1][2][3] ➣ Main Masterlist

➣ Buy me a Ko-fi? ➣ Commission: Open ➣ HC/Scenario Requests: Closed || Quick Ask Requests: Closed || GIF Requests: Closed

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lskisms · 10 months

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(not) strong, c. berzatto

syn. you think you traded all your luck on being able to wake up next to carmen every morning because it doesn't look like you have any left to spare. no matter; carm is here to patch you up.

gen. romance, angst.

warnings. crying, reader has a bad fucking day, carm is a sweetheart, mentions of food and eating.

word count. 1.8k.

you’re lucky that bad days tend to be few and far between; how could they not be when you have the privilege of waking up next to carmen berzatto every morning? he, of course, denies the effect he has on your life, says if anyone’s making a difference here, it’s you. but you really can’t downplay the warmth and light that sharing a bed with him, sharing a life with him brings to you. seeing him first thing in the morning is always the best part of your waking hours, a nice pick-me-up before you go to work; you have never taken that for granted.

but there are days where even seeing your boyfriend isn’t enough to wipe the slate clean, to erase that familiar sense of dread that makes its home in the pit of your stomach for you to carry around all day. having carmen with you, body or spirit (through text, of course), always momentarily eases the pain, but when he’s gone, when you have to stop texting, it comes back, agonizing and sharp like a blade twisting in your gut. all you can do is count down the hours, minutes, seconds until you get to go home and see him again.

today, it seems, is one of those days. regardless of the fact that you woke up feeling well, sharing a few soft kisses with carmy in bed before he made you breakfast and left you to your own devices so he could get to work, it seemed like the universe was working against you: you got to the train late, meaning you made it to work late, meaning you started the day off behind and if that wasn’t enough, you just couldn’t seem to get anything right. time has moved by at a snail’s pace, almost like the world is taunting you, wanting to drag this torture out for as long as fucking possible.

and it is. it is torture in all the worst ways, excruciating and harrowing. you didn’t have time to slip away and text carmy the whole day, barely had enough time for a lunch break, and even when you had taken your lunch break, typically a reset for you, things still were entirely awful. you’re astounded you even made it through the day without breaking into tears.

in public, at least, because the second you get home, it all comes rushing at you. the door closes behind you and the tears will not stop, no matter how hard you will them to just go away. you can’t even be bothered to hang your bag up on the coatrack, letting it drop to the floor instead on top of your different pairs of shoes left stranded at carmy’s front door. you trudge through the apartment into the bedroom, change into comfier clothes (a pair of shorts and one of carm’s sweaters), and lay down. it’s the only thing you can think to do after a rough day while you wait for your love to come home to you.

he does, eventually, though much later than you do; with his hours at the restaurant, it’s not often he comes home any time before eleven pm, and even that, that’s pushing it. it’s maybe closing in on half past eleven when you hear the door open and carmy’s voice, your name sounding as perfect as ever (nobody says it like he does, you maintain, your name has never sounded prettier than it does coming from him), and you become acutely aware that you have completely wasted the evening.

carm’s footsteps draw closer and then you hear him again at the door, a sweet lilt of “baby? you doin’ alright?”

and that, for some reason, just sends you over the edge. you’re not facing him, which is lucky, but you shake your head and close in on yourself, drawing your knees to your chest and making yourself smaller. you’re trying not to cry, not again, but it feels like the only way to react, the only way to get all of this out.

“sweetheart…” his voice is quiet and then he’s crawling up the mattress to lay beside you, shoving himself in the small space left between you and the wall his bed is pushed against. when he sets his gaze on you, all soft and clear blue sky, you fall apart, not sobbing but not holding back the tears anymore.

for a few moments, carm doesn’t know what to do. even though he’s seen you like this before, he still hesitates because you aren’t communicating what you need from him right now. still, the best bet, as always, seems to be wrapping you up and holding your pieces together.

so he does. he scoots in close, tucks your head under his chin, and wraps his arms around you. and he doesn’t say anything else, just lets you cry into his shirt, no doubt staining it with your tears, but if he cares, he doesn’t show it. you’re sure part of the lack of speaking is from him just being a little awkward about it, but still, you’re thankful that he isn’t pressing you on it.

when the tears finally do stop, he waits for you to pull back, waits for you to make the first move. he meets your gaze head on, the arm that isn’t pinned under your head moving so that he can wipe away stray tears caught in your eyelashes or on your skin.

“what’s all this about?” he asks softly, tipping his head so that your foreheads touch. “what’s got you all worked up?”

you shrug with one shoulder, casting your eyes down, letting them focus on the neckline of his shirt. “i don’t know. today was just… a really… really bad day, carm.”

he nods, brushes hair out of your eyes, lets his thumb stroke your cheekbone. “you can tell me about it. i’m listenin’.”

so you do. you recount the whole day to him, every gritty little detail, and he listens intently, like what you’re saying is the most important thing in the world to him. and maybe it is because he treats everything you do and say like that; he takes everything to heart and turns even the smallest things into something big and monumental.

you realize as you’re talking that all of the bad things that happened are so inconsequential and it makes you feel kind of stupid. carmen comes home and complains about much bigger issues all the time, and you listen, of course, offer advice when he needs it; but his issues are always so much bigger than yours, there are things, lives, that ride on his decisions going over well. not like yours, not like this. and it gets you worked up again, laughing when the tears burn at your waterline again.

“hey, hey, what’s all this?” he asks, ducking his head to look at you when you try to turn away. “why’re you cryin’ again?”

“i really don’t know, carm,” you answer tearfully, shaking your head like the movement will get rid of it all. “guess i feel kinda stupid. i’m not strong like you are.”

he mimics you, his turn to shake his head, curls falling into his eyes. “you don’t need to be, alright? you don’t have to be strong like i am. i can be strong enough for the both of us. that’s my job.”

“are you sure? i just-”

his hand, rough and warm, comes to rest on your cheek and you look up at him. his gaze is gentle in a way that he reserves just for you. “i’m positive. i can’t do much, but i can do this, so let me… ‘kay?”

you nod, closing your eyes and muttering back an “okay.” he leans to press a lingering kiss to your forehead before tilting back down, his nose brushing against yours. you lay like that for moments that stretch into forever, his breath hot against your mouth and his arms warm around you, your own personal weighted blanket.

“i’m not that strong, by the way,” he says quietly, breaking the silence. when you make a noise of confusion, he clarifies. “you said i’m strong, but i’m not. not really. i got a lot of fucked up shit goin’ on ‘n half the time, i’m spaced the fuck out… y’know, and i worry that you’re gonna figure that out one ‘a these days, but… i wanna be strong for you. i try really fuckin’ hard it almost scares me. so i mean it when i say i can be strong for us both because i want that to be the truth, y’know?”

you wrap an arm around him and nod, pressing your face into the soft material of his tshirt. the thank you you say into his shirt is wet and thick with tears, but he doesn’t seem to mind all that much, wrapping his arms tight around you and holding you against him; he doesn’t seem to mind a lot of the things you do, just takes them in stride and adjusts, which is sweet.

“you don’t need to thank me for anything,” he says into your hair, rubbing your back. “it’s my job to take care’a you, so that’s what i’m gonna do, alright? now… you eat dinner yet?”

the scoff he lets out when you tell him that no, you haven’t, might come off as mean to anyone else, but to you, it’s anything but. this is, for all intents and purposes, what he was made to do and this is proof of that.

“‘course ya haven’t. alright, what d’you want, hm? i’ll make whatever you’re cravin’, so just tell me what it is.”

you rattle off your order and when you pull away to look him in the face, he’s got a smile that belongs solely to you. he kisses you all soft and gentle, lips warm against yours, the one thing you’ve really wanted all day, and it dismantles that dread you’ve been feeling, takes its house apart piece by loving piece until it’s razed.

“you really gonna make me a grilled cheese right now? it’s almost midnight.”

carm lets loose a breathy chuckle, kisses you again, quick this time. “yes, chef. not letting my baby go to bed on an empty stomach. you know i don’t play around like that. what kind of cheese you want?”

you know he doesn’t play when it comes to making food for you, so you tell him to surprise you. you’ll eat anything he makes anyways because when he makes it for you, it’ll always taste good.

#carmy x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #the bear x reader #.thebear #.carmy #.fic

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hawkinstales · 1 month

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the tortured munson department presents | you okay, honey?

— or simply, entering Eddie's bedroom. no towel, nipples perked, skin glistening, causing his brain to short circuit. eighteen plus, no minors allowed. 18+ — a. notes: apologies for this taking me so long, it was a crazy turn of events and a long weekend, but here we are! feedback is much appreciated.

He's lounging — leaned back in the armchair, legs spread, unruly curls bobbing to the beat in his head. His eyes shut, fingers shredding in an epic rendition of Metallica's hit Master of Puppets.

His door creaks upon opening, gaining his attention. His gaze dark, bulging out of the sockets at the sight of you, waltzing into his room without a care.

No towel, nipples perked, droplets dripping down bare skin. A sight of beauty, gifted by the gods — truly marvelous, and for his eyes only.

His jaw slacks, drool seeping from parted lips — his cock twitches against the rough denim of his pants, cursing into the silence.

Time versus desires, a quarrel, battling the craving to touch, to taste, fuck until the only thing those pretty lips could do was beg for his cum.

He couldn't. Wouldn't, rather, refusing to fall prey to this disguise of feign innocence. Not this time, anyways. The minutes spiral, conspiring against him. His appetite too much, standing to flop down onto his bed, desperate for relief from this treachery.

Meanwhile, an impure grin forms on your lips — a mischievous sparkle behind a naive gaze, rummaging through the dresser in search of a sinful, little number. The soft skin visible beneath sheer lace, ass left bare. A thong, one he treasured.

You took pleasure in the deception, teasing him. You enjoyed the way he turns into a rugged beast — frantic to unbutton his pants, shimming them down to just pass his pale thighs. His cock springing to life, slapping his hairy trail and leaking for you.

He'd pat his lap, begging for a quickie. Eddie would insist there's plenty of time, only for you to deny him, giving him that agonizing speech on the importance of being on time, setting a good example. You'd walk him to the van, giving him a quick kiss to the cheek — leave his balls aching.

His night ruined, plagued by the images of you and all the things he plans on doing to you, generating him to wrap up faster.

You bend over, giving him a perfect view of your drenched folds. Your lips curve into a satisfied grin, spinning to discover Eddie's face buried in his mattress. The poor thing, so desperate to ignore the corruption of your little act.

"You okay, honey?"

His response is muffled, ring covered hand flying upwards to give a thumbs up. Your arms cross in a huff, trying your best not to giggle.

"You act as if this is the first time you've seen me naked."

His curls launch up, turning to glare at you. "You're being very rude, sweetheart." The grin on your face pivots, turning sinister. He gulps, tongue darting from his mouth as you crawl onto the bed, sitting in his lap. "Can't handle it, big boy?" You tuck some of his hair behind his ear, temptation hovering, lips inches apart.

His for the taken.

He leans in, forgoing his plans — lips brushing past yours, smashing onto your cheek. "Oh, would you look at the time!" You gasp, leaning away from him with a pout of your lips. "Mustn't be late for Hellfire." You task, pecking a gentle kiss to his nose.

"I fucking knew it." He groans, generating a giggle from you as you climb off his lap.

You grab his leather jacket off the chair, skipping out of the room and towards the trailer's door, waiting for him. It takes him a few minutes to emerge from the room, sneakers striding to stand in front of you — a scowl on his face, hands on his hips.

You smile at him, motioning for him to spin and helping him into his jacket. When he turns around, his eyes give him away — soft and warms towards you. "You're killing me, sweetheart." His arms lace around your waist, pulling you to his chest and planting a kiss to your forehead. "Love you, baby."

"Love you, pretty boy."

You stand on the porch, watching his van drive out the driveway. His eyes haven't left your figure, allowing another wicked idea to form. His shirt flies up, flashing him your bare chest. The van screeches to a halt — the taillights coming closer, returning to his parking space. He leaves the engine running, snatching you up and throwing you over his shoulder.

The first and only time Eddie the Banished, dungeon master of The Hellfire Club was late to a campaign.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #fanfic #blurb #smut #*emfics #*emblurbs #the tortured munson department

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mosaickiwi · 2 months

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yoohoo!!! @nabi004 and @mialuna4 and that one anon!!! sick angel request!!! many thanks for the love <3

14 Days With You is an 18+ Yandere Visual Novel. MINORS DNI

~A Sick Angel~

“Can you please—”

“No.”

The past few minutes had been like talking to a brick wall. [REDACTED] hadn't let you move an inch from the bed since you’d woken up in an agonizing daze.

Sure, you felt like complete shit, maybe a little on the side of a fever. And the moment you sat up you wanted to scream. But it was manageable. If you tried, you'd be able to make it through a day at the library.

Blue eyes quickly narrowed, as if they knew exactly what you were thinking. It was frustrating how stubborn they could be when he wanted to.

You attempted to frown at your companion. Nothing really changed about your haggard expression—thanks to your face and entire body feeling like dead weight—but your tone worked well enough. “I need to go to work today.”

“Not happening,” he insisted as he reached up to your forehead.

You closed your eyes for just a second. His cold palm against your brow was too heavenly to ignore. “I don't want to let Elanor down. Today's really important for her,” you croaked.

They didn't bother to hide the momentary disgust in their tone at the mention of your coworker. “She wouldn't want y’working either, Angel.” As if to prove his point, they tapped away on your phone. He'd been holding it hostage behind his back.

Only a minute later, it dinged with a response and he finally held it out to you. Elanor had sent a polite and elaborate text as always. You read through it while he continued to run both of their cold hands over your heated face like two makeshift ice packs.

Good morning, [REDACTED]. At least I assume so from how brief that message was? Thank you for letting me know Y/N is ill! I'm sure they must be worried about missing today's event but we can handle it just fine! And I’m happy to take some pictures for them! Please take good care of them and give my well wishes. Regards, Elanor.

You raised an eyebrow and scrolled back up to the paltry message he'd sent her.

sick no work

Somehow, it was probably the nicest thing they'd ever managed to send any of your friends. You looked back up at him with what was meant to be a pout. “Okay then.”

With instant trust in your word, he stood up to leave the room. He soon returned with his arms full. A cold compress, medicine, some drinks, and anything else they thought you might need. You lightly rolled your neck and resigned to your fate as a patient when he sat next to you. The medicine and drink he offered were swallowed without fuss on your part, then you laid down. The throbbing pain already seemed to calm as you did.

The compress stayed at his side instead of being placed on your forehead like you thought. You felt their hand on your cheek yet again, a more noticeable chill to his rough skin this time.

“Just in case it feels too cold f’you,” he explained before you even asked.

It felt perfect, so you didn't mind at all. You practically purred in relief at the gentle circles they rubbed. You tiredly looked up to him as you complained, if only to tease them, “I'm a little disappointed you didn't bring out the nurse outfit.”

“‘Course you are.” His eyes lit up with mischief, a knowing smile cut across his lips to match your playful one. “I'll make it up t’you when y'feel better, yeah?” Their thumb slowly traced back and forth from one corner of your mouth to the other.

“Germs, you weirdo,” you reminded him. Though you didn't bother to shake off his hand, weak as you were. “You’ll get sick.”

“Y’worried about me, love? Cute. But I promise ‘M not gonna catch whatever you have that easy.” They leaned down to kiss your flushed temple, eventually settling propped up on one arm to lay as close as possible beside you. Faintly warm breath tickled the top of your head until you drifted back to sleep under their watchful gaze.

#14 days with you #14dwy redacted #momo reqs #hehehe :3 #requested THREE TIMES??#i was gonna write something like this eventually so yayyy #look elanor's in there!!!#she is SO rude to redacted omg #<- she only said regards instead of KIND regards #scandalous #he deserves fewer exclamation points in her mind (but still gets some)#bro didn't even use punctuation themselves #also!! angel: halfway lucid trying to read words #redacted: i must touch and squish

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midnightarcheress · 2 months

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and they said speak now

it's no use, i just love you. pairing: simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader cw: nsfw bits. angst (with comfort?). sad yearning simon. sad yearning reader (in denial). enemies to... something. reader is part of tf141. no use of y/n. part 1 | part 2

Simon hasn’t heard from you since that catastrophic day.

the day he turned your life upside down. the one in which he ruined your wedding, blurted out a hushed love confession, and broke your heart by spilling the truth about your ex-fiancé. the day he watched you walk away in a tear-stained wedding dress, without the certainty that you would ever come back.

how much time does someone need to process all of that?

the following weeks felt like years. the days were unbearable, drowning in paperwork in a frantic attempt to keep his mind from sulking on his actions, possible by the strange lack of assignments during the period. did the terrorists take a break? his other option - admittedly the one he would spend most of his time doing - was staring at the ceiling of his quarters for hours as his body created a permanent indent on the mattress, a perfect tailored grave for his crestfallen soul.

the nights were even worse. he kept dreaming about you. sometimes it was warm, you snuggled in his arms, back pressed firmly against his chest while you fidgeted with the fingers interlaced with yours and he planted kisses on your shoulder, your neck, your cheek. sometimes it was ugly, your eyes shooting daggers to his heart and your enraged voice piercing through his eardrum in another daily fight, taking a toll on his mind like a frightful PTSD flashback.

sometimes it was erotic, his eyes savoring the view of your bouncing tits and beautiful flushed face whilst he pounded every inch of his cock in your tight cunt, filling the room with your pretty moans and pleas as he guided you to your third orgasm. sometimes it was horrifying, hearing your agonizing screams and watching you being repeatedly shot while he tried to rush to your position, without ever actually moving his feet, only adding your body to the long list of people he had failed to save.

no matter the scenario, it would always end with Ghost jolting awake to heart palpitations and heavy breathing, struggling to get a hold of himself. as much as your presence would drive him to madness, your absence managed to make his brain spiral. went down an endless rabbit hole and missed every chance to grasp the flimsy rope of reality.

he thought about calling. almost did a few times, glaring at your name on his contact list but never pressing the button, especially after nights out in the pub with Soap. “what ye gonna do about it, Lt? think the lass is gonna give ye a chance?” but in truthfulness, he didn’t know what to say; no words were enough to describe how guilty he felt and how sorry he was. he just needed to hear your voice. know that you were okay, or at least, alive and breathing.

no one really knew how you were, where you were, or when you’d be back; Price only stated that you extended your honeymoon leave for an indefinite amount of time. despite being your captain, he wasn’t going to question your necessity for serenity, after all, he was there when your life crumbled apart - one minute Simon was quiet on his seat, the next he was standing in the middle of the church, twisting the team’s perception of your strained relationship and leaving their jaws in agape.

while Simon deteriorated in remorse, already grieving the lost possibility of you ever being his, you made use of the no-refund policy of your honeymoon trip. a week in an all-inclusive resort by the beach, enjoying the crystal clear waters and the too-many-to-count cocktails to numb your achy heart that almost made you wake up in different rooms a few nights.

still, the only thing the hotel didn’t include on the menus was peace. as much as you tried, your mind kept reliving the wedding over, and over, and over. the memory of Ghost standing up and daring to violate your sacred moment, the sight of his wide eyes when he confirmed your doubts about your then-partner, the troublesome twinge in your chest as he begged for a chance to love you - a relentless feel you’ve been carrying everyday.

seven days at an alleged paradise were not enough to cleanse your spirit. the light waves of the ocean cradling your body couldn’t soothe your distress, as the deep end seemed to have a higher draw on you, luring you to a darker place where you could wallow without shame. misery loves company, i guess.

despite your best efforts, the following weeks were equally bleak. while you managed to maintain your focus out of your own life during the day, the dark blues of the nightfall outlining the nature’s silhouettes seen from your flat’s balcony only brought back the daunting awareness of duty. you couldn’t hide forever. it was time to be back.

your footsteps echoed in the base hallways as you made your way to the conference room, anxiety pooling on your insides and almost making you empty your stomach right there and then. in a way, it was nice to finally be back at work, fingers itching due to the need to hold a rifle and unload an entire cartridge at the first target that comes into sight. in another, you were dreading the idea of coming face to face with your friends after that disastrous day and, more importantly, dreading the inevitable confrontation with Ghost.

your frame on the doorway interrupted Price’s speech during a long awaited briefing for the team’s next mission. the atmosphere in the room suddenly got heavy, crisp air filling your lungs as four pairs of eyes glanced in your direction, taking your unforeseen arrival with the same shock as if you were a mythical creature.

“good to have you back.” the captain said, gesturing to you to join the reunion.

with a silent greeting, your legs made their way to a seat around the table, avoiding the prying looks as much as possible but ultimately failing. their watchful gaze dawned on you like cars slowing down next to an accident site, everybody stopping to see the wreckage and pity the poor life stuck in the rubbish.

but there was one set of eyes in particular that never shifted. without even facing him, you could feel Simon’s glare boring into your figure, urging you to turn your head in his direction, pleading for an ounce of awareness. his heart was beating rapidly for the first time in weeks, your presence being enough to send him to an overdrive and to turn Price’s words into white noise in the background.

in the milliseconds in which Simon looked away, you were gone. the briefing didn't last long and you decided not to linger around after it ended, fleeing the room in a hurry to avert any conversation. he was hoping for an opportunity to check on you, to talk, to explain. to pour out his feelings once again, without the pressure of trying to stop you from getting married, wishing that the time you spent apart was enough to earn at least some compassion from you.

running away from him again almost made you feel like a coward. you had always been able to stand toe to toe with Ghost, rebutting each of his snarky statements with even more venomous remarks, not caring if it would ever truly affect him. he didn’t act like it did. but in that moment, you couldn’t shake the anxiety that dominated your senses.

after years doing it, you knew that working out was a great stress-reliever and you didn’t hesitate on heading to the training room. focusing on a repetitive task that exerted your body to maximum was the easy way out of the teetering breakdown crawling its way to the surface. the sound of dull blows on the punching bag ricocheted in the empty area as you cleared your brain of any thoughts regarding him. it had been a while since you exercised, but instead of getting tired, each punch only gave you more energy, the sting on your fists only fueling your anger to the brim.

“careful there.” the gruff voice filled the nearly silent room and made you startle, quickly snapping your head towards the entrance. Ghost’s tall frame was leaning on the doorway, eyes carefully watching you as you furrowed your brows at him.

he takes a few steps in your direction, easing his way into your eyesight like a stray puppy who just wants a home. you simply choose to ignore him and go back to the punching bag, pushing aside the desperate need to ignite that fire again, to feel the fireworks bursting your chest the same way it did when his warm tongue swirled around yours.

“can we talk?” he asks, searching your eyes for even a hint of compassion but being met with nothing but a cold silence, “please?”

“no.”

your tone is harsh, grating his ears as you keep your stance, landing countless jabs in the sack. Simon is quiet, observing the intensity of your moves and how you don’t flinch despite having sore knuckles at this point. probably imagining it’s my face, he thinks, glancing around the room until his gaze falls on the sparring mat, getting the gears of his brain turning.

“let’s fight then.”

that stumps you and makes you raise your eyes. “what?”

“if you don’t wanna talk, let’s fight. we’re good at that.” he says, already stepping on the mat and stretching his arms, preparing himself for the match.

“i’m not gonna fight you, Ghost.” your eyes roll at the proposition.

“scared of getting your arse beat?” he teases, reminiscing the way he’s used to treating you. he knows you never back off from a challenge, especially coming from him, no matter how insane it sounds. you’re aware of his size and how easily it’d be for him to break you, even with your skills in single combat, but you can’t prevent your blood from boiling at the mocking undertone of his question.

without another second of doubt, you follow him to the mat, making small jumps to get your limbs loose and your blood circulating. his attentive gaze never leaves you, happily taking in your rage over the recent apathy with a pleased grin plastered on his face, the first genuine smile he has in days. at least it’s something.

the first move is his, throwing a quick blow at your head, which you swiftly avoid by stepping back. you’re determined to not let him win, your competitive side always overruling your better judgment. but you are even more determined to not allow him to let you win.

grunts and thuds fill the air as you exchange blows, each strike hitting harder than the previous. “i’ve missed you.” he says, lunging forward to kick your side. you roll your eyes in annoyance, but it’s truly exciting to finally have an adrenaline release in your organism, even if it means confronting the emotional turmoil threatening to spill out of your throat.

“when?” you ask, retaliating his kick with a jab in his midsection.

“when what?” his head tilts to the side, not understanding your question for a second.

his ears perk up as the sound of your screams muffles the gunfire around him. you had managed to disarm the soldier on top of you after being stabbed in the stomach, but the gushing laceration in your abdomen was getting the best of you, blood pressure dropping as a bullet pierced through the man’s skull.

Simon rushes to your side as soon as the lifeless body hits the ground, seeing your blood pooling on the concrete. “bloody hell.” he mutters, quickly applying pressure on the punctured point. your eyes roll as the pain increases, making you struggle to stay awake.

“don’t you fuckin’ dare die on me! keep your eyes open, come on,” he urges, gently tapping your cheeks to keep you conscious while he blasts the comms requesting an urgent medevac, “yeah, just like that, you’re doin’ so good for me,” he coos as your blood stains his ungloved hands, “no no no, come on, please, stay with me, you can’t-”

you use his moment of distraction at your advantage, landing an intense punch on his jaw. he stumbles back a couple steps, already sensing the metallic taste on his tongue. at that, the suppressed anger he’s been keeping under covers during your missing weeks comes to top, hot magma erupting like an exploding volcano. he aims for your stomach. your legs. block your arms. you dodge it barely, but he keeps going.

“the time you almost died in my arms,” he finally answers, gritting his teeth. he’s an enraged man, tackling you to the ground and firmly gripping your hands, pinning you to the mat. you grunt at the movement, heavy breathing hitting his neck as he leans even closer to your face. “you can’t tell me that you don’t feel it too. it’s there. everytime we’re together.”

Ghost’s masked face hovers over yours as you struggle to breathe. you don’t hear the shots around you anymore, only Price’s voice in the comms telling him that evac is two minutes out. you glance at your surroundings, barely processing the sight before falling unconscious again.

your brain shuts down, but somehow you still feel his touch. despite the adrenaline and his familiar roughness, the hand stroking your cheek carries a tranquilizing softness you didn’t expect. a light at the end of the tunnel that guides your way back to the living plane.

your eyes flutter open in the medbay, after feeling a sharp pain on your ribs. Ghost is sitting on the chair near the bed, unaware of your awaken state, looking out the window. his face is still covered, but you catch the slight twitch in the corner of his eyes - you’ve noticed it always happens when he’s too focused on something. you wonder what goes through his mind at the moment. yours can only recall the cracks in his voice as he held you in his trembling arms and pleaded you to stay awake.

“i don’t,” you lie, glaring at his hazel eyes. of course you feel it. the fucking fire that scarred you from the minute you had your first fight. the flame that etched his initials on your chest and marked you forever as his, even if you can’t fathom the idea of belonging to a man like him, “get off me!”

your restless squirms help you free yourself from his grasp, pushing his bulky figure to the side while simultaneously striking multiple punches on his chest. and he just takes it. he indulges your wrath, blissfully accepting your blows with nothing but tenderness. your vision gets blurry as you break the remains of his armor, stripping him of the faint defenses still guarding his heart.

he feels the power of your hits weaken when a teardrop rolls from your cheek and falls on his face. not enough to put out the wildfire devouring his soul whenever you’re near, but enough to turn it into a peaceful bonfire, whose cracks soothe your aches like a lullaby. he takes your wrists in one hand while the other reaches for your face; loving eyes, once so cryptic, gaze at the storm behind yours, signaling that it’s okay. it’s okay to feel it.

you sink into his burly arms, bathing in the heat radiating from him. for the first time, you don’t see Ghost, the shadow that haunts your nightmares and the shell of a broken man, you see Simon. the faceless man in your dreams, the one who understands you by one look, the one that fuels your deepest desires - it being a hunger for love or for lust - and still inflames all of your anger.

“come on, love,” he says, pulling up to his feet and extending his hand in your direction.

your knuckles are hurting, partially from the blows on the punching bag from earlier, partially from your rampage against his body. you take his hand and he guides you out of the mat, sitting you on top of a table. furrowed brows meet his half smile, as he positions himself on a chair in front of you and starts tending your bruises.

“i guess it has always been there,” he says, delicately holding your hands and cleaning the drying blood from it, “the feeling. buried way underneath. i didn’t understand it in the beginning, you’d drive me so insane i couldn’t even look at your face.”

you recall your first encounter with Ghost, feeling the tension of his icy glare penetrating your bones, freezing you on the spot. but somehow also feeling your chest filling with a warmth you’ve never had before. the missing puzzle piece finally returning to its place.

“i know you feel something. the intensity is there, in each bloody fight, everytime we're together, in or out of the field. i’m electrified whenever your hand brushes against mine. i’ve been dull for so many years of my life, and then you came-”

“Simon.”

your sudden interruption makes him stop talking. he raises his eyes from your sore hands to your irises, seeking for a hint of recognition. “this could never work,” you say, letting out an exhausted sigh “you know that.”

yes, he knows that. but he is also not one to evade conflict, especially with you. he doesn’t care how much trouble it’d be to make a relationship with you work. doesn’t care if you wanna change everything about him, put him in a tiny little mold where he obeys your wishes and barks at your command. hell, he’d gladly wear a collar if it meant having you as the one pulling the leash. he’s tired of concealing his emotions behind the persona. he wants you to see him for what he is underneath the pain, the trauma, the rage. only Simon.

the man who craves your proximity, your presence by his side as he lays down to sleep and every morning when he wakes. your sweet scent, your soft skin, your sparkling eyes. the one who craves your touch, reaching for every inch of his body and bringing him closer to the heaven gates in a way that no religion could. the image that feeds his most terrible nightmares and his brightest - and most obscene - dreams.

“we clash all the fucking time. as much as i hate to say it, we’re too alike, too stubborn, we’d repel each other like magnets, we-”

“yes,” he interjects, leaning closer to your face, “we are too alike. that’s what makes us good. tell me i’m not crazy. you irritate me so much because you always know what i’m thinking. what i’m feeling. my weaknesses are all at your display even when i don’t show it. you know exactly which buttons to push and which to leave alone.”

the skull balaclava covers most of his face, but you don’t mind, his eyes are the most important part. they’re familiar. you know every crease at its corners, the place of every single one of his lashes, the nuances of the color. you’ve studied them several times, trying to decipher the enigma of Ghost. you’ve gotten good at it, so his words are true. you know him. know him too much to consider the idea of being together, because the mere possibility of losing him would maim you forever.

“we're too similar because we’re two sides of the same coin. each side with its singularity, markings, engravings, but still part of the same thing, destined to be together, intertwined. two flames meant to combine, to heat each other, become one,” the faltering in his voice surprises you, but you don’t see it as a sign of bad faith. his vulnerability is a breath of fresh air after years of unbreakable security, “can’t you understand it?”

silence.

Simon senses his defeat with your hesitance. there’s no use. he goes back to patching up your hand, finishing the bandages as if it’d seal the wounds he opened on you with his actions. years of pent-up aggression planting the doubt of his true affection for you, and there’s no one else to blame but him. is there really no use at this point? the muscle inside your chest is beating loudly, threatening to burst out of your chest, but the logical part of your mind is still screaming to take back control. it’s a worthless tug of war. the brain may be astute, but it can never outsmart the strength of the heart.

“Simon.” he doesn’t dare to gaze at you, even with your saccharine voice tempting his eyes, too adamant to give more of himself in a seemingly hopeless situation. your hands move from your lap to cup his jaw, forcing his head upwards to meet the smile on your lips. it’s small, timid, soft. laced with something he’d never seen on your face but filled with the confidence you always exhibit. love.

“so,” you breathe deeply, “what now?”

took me so long omg but i think i'm finally happy with it. hope you like it. was listening to 'no use i just do' by hayley williams when i got to the end and i feel like it sums up a bit of the feelings.

also, if you see an error, no you didn't. my brain is all mush now.

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subskz · 5 months

Note

RINNIE I’ve got an idea…

Punishing Lino or Hannie with numbing cream.

Like jerking them off with numbing cream, so it’ll feel so good at first since the cream will work as lube, and lubed handjobs are <33 But the cream slowly kicks in and the can’t feel a thing in their precious dicks anymore :(( Then you take your gloves off (bc you obviously don’t want the cream to numb your hands) and you put on a condom for them so the cream doesn’t transfer to you as you ride them. It would be so tortuous for them to see you bouncing on their cock but not being able to feel a single thing! Tease them and tell them how good it feels, and how much you’re clenching down on them, and watch them get frustrated that they can’t feel you. The only thing that’s keeping them hard despite not feeling a thing is the visual, because it’s just so, so hot.

Hannie would absolutely be the first to break down and cry out of the two. He’s pitifully bucking up into you as if that’s gonna help him feel something. He’s gonna be crying his little heart out, telling you that “you’re so mean!” for making him endure this torture. He’ll beg and beg for you to wash the numbing cream off so that he can feel you wrapped around him. But you don’t relent, because this is his punishment after all. He’ll even try to rub his nipples for stimulation or reach behind you to finger himself, but you’re always one step ahead since you already added numbing cream to those areas as well (since you knew he’ll start touching those parts), which makes him cry even harder. But it turns him on so, so much as well, since now he’s really just a dildo for you <33

Lino would be so, so stubborn. He’ll act as if this doesn’t bother him at all. But in just a few more minutes, he’ll start whining, which embarrasses the hell out of him, but at this point, he doesn’t care. Exaggerate your moans a bit so he really gets needy. Like Hannie, he’ll also try bucking up into you, but in the end, it’s futile. Make him watch you use his cock to bring yourself to several orgasms, then after that, you start cleaning up. Was it over already? But he didn’t even get to cum yet! He’ll start protesting and all that for you to come back and help him out, telling you that it was rather rude for you to leave him like this. But you just simply ignore him and go wash yourself up. You’ll probably come out of the bathroom to find the kitty trying to finger himself for some sort of relief, but he just can’t! It doesn’t nearly feel as good as when you do it for him :(

oh this is pure insanity 😵‍💫 what a perfect punishment both of their reactions would be priceless for different reasons. hannie being the easiest to break and lino being one of the hardest to break…but in the end they’re still both reduced to a helpless, whining mess hehe. jerking them off using the cream is so clever too, you let him feel just enough pleasure to bring him close to the edge as you spread the cream w lazy, slippery strokes, then suddenly the numbness begins to kick in and any build into his climax fizzles out. the fun’s over for him but just starting for you~

the sight of jisung working so hard to try and get himself to feel something, thrusting like an animal w the most adorable, frustrated, look on his face and watery eyes would be to die for 😽 the most agonizing part abt it is that the numbing cream doesn’t completely leave him senseless, but it’s just effective enough that he can’t get any real pleasure from it…there’s none of your wetness or softness that he aches for, all he can feel is the faint clench of your walls around his numb dick that tells him how good you’re feeling using him like a toy. and if that isn’t enough, the way you exaggerate your moans to taunt him makes him so crazy with need, he’d absolutely start crying ): esp after trying to get himself off w his nipples as a last resort, only for it to break him down further bc he just feels so pathetic and helpless doing everything he csn without gaining any relief. he babbles out apologies through all his sobbing, but at that point it’s too late! all he can do now is take his punishment like a good boy and watch at your mercy as you ride him w tears streaming down his face. and maybeee if he behaves enough, you’ll cup his wet cheeks and give him some kisses, murmuring to him that he should he thankful that he gets to make you feel so good <3

a punishment where lino feels nothing at all would be his absolute nightmare…no pain or pleasure, just being used like a pretty little plaything for your satisfaction~ he’s so stubborn but at the same time so impatient. at first he tries playing it off by mocking you bc how is fucking him a punishment? he watches w the cheekiest grin as you pump his dick, but he can only act smug for so long before it sets in that you’re 100% set on not letting this spoiled brat get off today <3 his whines would be so pretty…starting off kinda quiet and soft like “are you serious? this isn’t fair” w the hopes that’ll be enough to win you over, but his voice gets progressively needier the more you grind your hips down against him, rolling your body in a way that he knows would make his mind melt if only he could feel it. and degrading him on top of that bc unlike jisung, he refuses to apologize…taunting him for only being able to last this long when his dick is numb, saying he’s only useful as your fucktoy <3 he’d definitely get defiant and try thrusting up into you, but it just adds to the humiliation more when he doesn’t get an ounce of stimulation from it. catching him trying to finger himself afterwards would be so hot hehe poor kitty isn’t used to having to do it all himself…depending on how far gone he is you might just get to watch him push his fingers in an out of himself pitifully as he begs so sweetly for you to help him out

#ask #💌 hannie #💌 lino

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rainswept · 6 months

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# THE MOON IS BEAUTIFUL, ISN’T IT?

— lyney, freminet, navia : 272, 213, 206 words respectively. these don’t really make much sense tbh.

# LYNEY : love. bouts of flattery overflowing from a mouth full of bleeding gums, bouquets of rainbow roses neatly tied together in a pretty silk bow; words slipped like cards between fingers past his teeth that are pleasing to the ear but do naught to soothe the ache beneath the skin. stiff movement, perfected performance, smile lines on a face that has seen nothing but tragedy; swooning, blushing, grinning; bright spotlights, pried open eyes blind to it all. cries for an encore are like a bandage over a profusely bleeding wound that just won’t stop, won’t quiet down. gods, he’s so tired of encores.

but he is not tired of performing. the desire to still swells beneath his skin like the blood that sustains him — it always has. but it is beginning to feel like a cut forcing that deep-seated thing to the surface instead of passion, forming a wound instead of flushed cheeks, painful and slow and agonizing as it bleeds him dry. but at least now it is familiar.

dreams that leave him in a haze, warmth settling in the pit of his belly instead of knives, bread as a peace offering, hands held tight in the face of peril, soft breaths entwined without a single kiss and gentle touches to gnawing wounds. moving away from a fireplace when it gets too hot only to return moments later when you forget the feeling of being singed; a garden overgrown with rainbow roses to the point where they almost look as if they began growing wild, unbridled and free and passionate and imperfect.

which is love to him? he doesn’t quite know.

# FREMINET : tears. he thinks his tears threaten to overflow the rushing sea, bleed into the waves until he dies in a water that cannot drown him. marks that linger as memories fade, reflections on the surface of the sun; the deteriorating seashells picked up from the shaking sand at the bottom of the ocean, forever moved by the presence of another. soft touches and fleeting wishes, dry lips with sobs seeping between the cracks like water, begging for a reprieve from the loneliness that strives to swallow him whole unlike like the sea he loves so dearly — a threat versus a plea, a soft embrace instead of a bruising hold. he doesn’t know which is which.

shaky hands held beneath a star-filled sky, glistening teardrops so plentiful they mimic the galaxies and the sea alike. currents swelling beneath fingertips and seeping beneath skin as he sinks until he can no longer see. screaming, yelling, silence, cries and wails of anything but sorrow, knives to throats and blood spilling beneath a red moon to taint shallows that were never pristine in the first place. tender flesh, calloused fingers, sharp nails digging so deep into each other you could nearly get cut. you pray to the archons that the indents in your unwounded skin scar.

# NAVIA : comfort. a warm dessert melting on the tongue, meringues, saccharine and soft; a hazy memory doused in vanilla and egg whites. beds of flowers whistling in the wind, head leaned against the base of a tree, soft strands of golden hair twirled between fingers and tangling in the grass; forehead kisses, sunsets, lighthearted giggles turned to laughs so plentiful they make your chest ache.

navia wraps her fingers around yours like she never wants to let you go — it’s tender, loving, sweet, and oh so far away. the look in her eyes is distant, clouded, guilty; she gazes at the floor, the ceiling, the corner of your mouth. anywhere she can find and grasp onto but your eyes, or your lips, or your heart, or your soul — her eyes are like the moon over the water, you always told her, and the moon’s view of anything you truly want it to see has been hidden away by a fog rolling in on the horizon.

a doomed ship sails straight into the fog blanketing the sky like it wants to protect the moon to a fault. as you hold her hand tight, aware you’re watching it, there’s an innate sense it will not come back.

#⟢ rainswept ⊹#lyney x reader #freminet x reader #navia x reader #idk what this is goodnight

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avonne-writes · 1 month

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Hey! I've been loving all of your MOTA posts lately, especially your insights into Gale and his unhappy childhood. Do you think there are any specific ways that the trauma from that bleeds into his domestic life with Bucky? Any nerves that sometimes get struck on without Bucky realising that's what they are?

Thank you so much! Yes, my headcanon is that this happens sometimes. I came up with a few examples, but there could be more.

In a post-war canon AU:

Gale is shit at expressing his emotions because he learned to suppress them. Post-war, this causes a lot of problems. The silent treatment is not a constructive way of solving disagreements.

If he wants to talk to Bucky / it's dinner time or similar situation and Bucky doesn’t pay attention to him because there's a sports event on the radio, Gale flips out. Unreasonably so.

Interestingly, he doesn’t have a problem with drunk Bucky initiating sex with him but only if he does it in the bedroom or bathroom. Drunken advances in the kitchen, the hall or the living room make his stomach roil. It’s very specific, and given Gale’s communication issues, Bucky is thoroughly confused why he’s so roughly turned down sometimes while Gale is on board on other nights.

This isn’t a negative thing, but Gale is obsessed with soft beds and blankets. He isn’t very picky about furnishing their place but the bed has to be perfect. After so many nights spent on hard surfaces both as a child and as an adult, he craves this comfort. He’s all smiley and cuddly when he’s in that bed.

In my HS AU, when they move in together during college:

Gale jumps at every loud crashing sound, especially glass shattering. He’s withdrawn for hours if someone accidentally breaks a glass or a plate.

Once, Bucky comes home drunk from a party in the middle of the night, and it scares him. He’s instantly on high alert and won't sleep much after. Actually, he moves to the couch that night. When Bucky realizes what happened, he’s very apologetic, but it's not the last time he goes to a party without Gale. But from then on, he stays out all night, sleeping at friends' places. It really upsets Gale but he only tells Bucky this months later, when everything comes to a head. After that, Bucky doesn’t do this anymore.

Gale is triggered by the sight of empty booze bottles. Full ones he doesn’t mind, but empty ones make him anxious.

Gale doesn’t know how to decorate and make a space welcoming so he doesn’t understand why Bucky grouches about their apartment being too sparsely decorated in the first few months. Then, when he finally starts to get more into homemaking, he’s nervous to share any ideas, even small ones - e.g. he spends long minutes staring at souvenir magnets because he doesn’t know which one works best or he agonizes over choosing a frame for a photo.

#mota #buck x bucky #clegan #gale cleven #john egan #hs au #anon #gale's childhood

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seospicybin · 1 year

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HOMESICK.

The next chapter of Haven.

Bangchan x reader. (s,f)

Synopsis: After being separated by the distance, Chan learns to build a new home with you. (11,7k words)

Author's note: Sorry it took a long time for me to finish it. You can definitely read it without reading Haven first. It's a sweet fic of domestic romance with Chan. Swear to you there's no angst in it. Happy reading!

What makes a home?

Well, it takes two to build one.

It started with the need for each other's presence in life.

"My bed feels so empty without you," he said into the phone.

You chuckled in response, "or maybe your bed is too big,"

You heard the faint sound of piano playing in the background, "the neighbor is playing the piano again?"

"Yes, here listen," chan held out his phone on the balcony so you could listen to the piece of piano.

"You heard that?"

"Yes, it's Nocturne by Chopin," you said to him.

"It's so nice," he sighed.

"Yeah," you also sighed.

"Gosh, I miss you so much," he softly said.

And you felt it too, how the distance between you drained the life out of you the longer you were away from each other.

"I miss you too," you said back and wished that saying it would lessen the ache of being away from each other.

It became a habit of him calling you whenever he misses you, or you miss him, or when something reminds any of you of your shared memories.

And this habit only made this longing for each other more intense, turning all the wants into needs.

Until one night none of you could take it anymore.

"Come back to me," he said with so much desperation in his voice like a wayfarer who had traveled long without water.

"I need you here. Come back!" He said again.

It was either of relief or joy, but you cried because he wanted it as much as you did.

"Move in and mess my place again," he said.

You laughed into the phone, "yes, okay," you answered without thinking because your heart yearned for him, to be in his life again and him in yours.

"I'll wait for you at home,"

"See you at home," you said to him knowing that those words wouldn't just be empty words anymore.

If you ask again, what makes a home?

You always thought that when you found it, your heart felt it, that sense of comfort you didn't get anywhere else, an instant serenity like you're exactly where you belong. Your heart felt lighter but full at the same time, lighter because you know all your weariness disappeared in an instant, and full because your heart filled with warm feelings.

You felt all that as he hugged you.

After a year of being separated by miles and miles of distance, you came back home, to him and the heart that beats inside his chest where your home truly lies.

"Welcome home," he whispered into your ear.

And you hugged him tighter because it felt like a dream still.

"Chris..." you muttered into his chest then looked up at him.

You had thought over and over about your decision to move in with him, not that you doubted him but it was a big decision that required you to move abroad but also left your job and life back there to move on to new things entirely.

"Thank you for coming back to me," he sincerely said.

And that was enough to convince you that this was the right decision.

The year you had spent away from each other was excruciating, tormenting, raging storms and dark days, the distance did nothing but made you both vulnerable and restless, you didn't need each other to merely exist but something just didn't feel right.

It was nice to go out of the house once in a while but if you were away too long, it dawned on you, the homesickness.

"I'm so happy to be home," you said and the agonizing pain of being away from each other disappeared at that moment.

The sound of the piano welcomed you back into Chan's apartment and you went to the balcony to listen to it loud and clear.

They played Beethoven's Piano Concert No. 5 and it couldn't be more a perfect piano piece to play on such an occasion.

Chan came up from behind and wrapped his arms around you, "it feels complete now,"

You put your hands on his and rested your head on his shoulder, your head tilted upward at the night sky dotted with stars.

"No, it isn't," you disagreed.

You pressed a kiss on his lips and he gladly returned the kiss.

"Now it is," you said against his lips.

He smiled at you and sank his mouth in yours while tightening the hold around you, not letting you go again.

Having you on his bed again felt like a dream.

The shape you took against the white sheet, there's nothing like it.

For this one night, he wanted to make sweet love to you.

He touched you so tenderly as he would to a flower with so much tenderness, fingertips trailed your smooth skin and raised goosebumps all over you.

"You're even more beautiful than I remember," he murmured with eyes following his hand squeezing the flesh on your waist.

You never felt more loved and admired in your life, but he did more than that, worshipping every inch of your body like you were a goddess.

His mouth endlessly whispered sweet words into your ear.

"You're so heavenly."

"My hands can't stop touching you."

"Gosh, I miss kissing these lips."

"My love..." he sighed with so much delight and contentment.

The sex was slow and steady, continually thrusting into you with the same depth and intensity. Mouths incessantly kissing you, hands clasped with fingers slipped between the spaces of your fingers, perfectly like they were made for you to hold.

Chan was overwhelmed, it felt as if he had sex for the first time all over again and it was because of you, you made it all happen for him.

You rested your head on his chest with him resting his back against the headboard, your legs tangled together under the duvet and your foot rubbing his shin.

He kissed you so tenderly and seemed won't stop doing it, "I can't believe you're here," he said.

"I can't believe I'm here," you repeated.

It all still felt like a dream to you, it was only hours ago you have separated miles away from each other but here you were, cuddling with him on the mess of his bed.

"I can't believe you're doing this for us," he said with utmost sincerity and a bright smile.

But you smiled at the word 'us', which was the word that means so much more than just a part of English vocabulary, it means having and owning, you and him, together at last.

"I trust you," you said.

"I trust us," you corrected, lacing your hand with his.

You knew the future was distant, not within reach but you gradually approaching it, things are inevitable, good or bad. You didn't want to think of what the outcome would be, you put your faith in you and him, on the word 'us' and hoped that the word etched in both of your tombstones.

Chan kissed the back of your hand then placed it on his chest with his heart beating under the skin and bones, "I trust us," he said back.

If you want to build a home, you started by having a strong foundation: trust.

"You don't have to work, I'll provide for both of us," Chan confidently said to you while serving you a plate of breakfast.

You cooed in awe, "wow, that's very tempting!"

You slid the plate closer in front of you and took a sip of your juice before picking up your spoon.

"It's just an option!" He said with a shrug and that foolish grin of his.

He sat next to you with his plate of breakfast in front of him but his hand rested on your thigh, "you don't have to worry about the interview," he assured you.

"You'll do great!" He kissed your cheek to manifest his words into you.

A little before you left, you applied for a job at an art gallery and secured an interview. You forgot how nerve-wracking a job interview could be but once you have done it, it felt so relieving, and surprisingly, you didn't worry about anything else after that.

Chan came home for dinner, smothering you with kisses the moment he stepped into the apartment, only letting you go as your lungs shriveled from running out of oxygen.

"You're cooking dinner?"

You nodded.

"How's the job interview?"

You put your hands on the collar of his shirt, "You'd better wash up and back in five minutes, dinner is almost ready," you told him.

He smiled and pecked your lips, "yes, ma'am!"

The neighbor started playing their piano early that night, they played Piano Sonata No. 12 by Mozart, the piece began with a soft key then switches to an even softer key, and you let the calming piano music wash over you.

"How is it?" You asked as he ate his dinner without saying anything.

"It's so good that I can't stop eating," he praised, wiping his mouth with a napkin to kiss you on the cheek, a compliment to the chef.

He drank his glass of water and paused eating, "so, the interview?" He picked up the conversation you had earlier.

"I just got the call a little before you came home," you said.

"And?" He leaned forward, eyebrows wrinkled in curiosity and anticipation.

"I got the job," you announced with a smile.

Chan smiled like he knew it was going to happen, that he was right, you did great like he predicted that morning.

You both stood outside on the balcony and listened to the neighbors playing Franck's Piano Quintet.

Chan held you from behind, putting his hand around your waist and the other hand trailed down your arm with his fingertips lightly rubbing your skin.

It was so nice to stay in a moment like this with you, encased in comforting, warm feelings like all the problems in his life are a world away. Just you and him in your iridescent little bubble, sharing touches and syncing your breathing, hearts beat as one.

He angled your head to meet his and didn't waste time capturing your lips in his.

"Are you going back to the studio?" You asked, knowing that he likes to keep himself busy in there.

He shook his head, "why would I want to be anywhere else but here?" He asked back with a smile.

He didn't want to be anywhere else but here, close to you with his hands touching your soft, warm skin for as much as he wants and have you the way he wanted.

On the bed with your legs spread open for him while he pushed his cock deep inside you and it mesmerizes him still how you take him well every single time.

"Always tight for me," he murmured.

You locked your legs around his waist while his hands reached for yours, holding them while he pounded into you, his eyes fixated on the way his cock slipped in and out of you.

"Chris..." you breathlessly called his name.

"I love how you call my name," he said between his groans, picking up the pace at how easily you riled him up just by calling his name.

When he cum, he slowly pulled out and heard you whimpering at the sudden emptiness. He rubbed your abdomen, waiting to see his cum leaking out of you and when it did, he sighed in satisfaction.

You sat up on the bed and saw his cock still firm despite just cumming inside you a moment ago.

You scooted closer and rubbed the tip of his cock slick with both of your bodily fluids, so softly with your fingertip.

"How are you still this hard?" You asked in pure curiosity.

"I could make love to you every night and it will never be enough," he boldly stated.

It's that easy for him to make your heart flip and aroused at the same time.

"There's no use for me to stop you, huh?"

You already knew the answer without needing him to say it and that was why he laughed, his tongue poked his cheek and he had no idea how attractive that looked on him.

You kissed him with your hand wrapped around his length, positioned yourself to let him enter you one more time, eased down on him with your eyes closed, and felt this cock stretch you again.

It seemed to take him by surprise that Chan wasn't prepared, he gripped your waist so hard you were sure he left crescent marks on your skin.

You put your hands around his neck and hastily kissed his open mouth, moving your hips in a circular motion to feel his whole length inside you.

"You feel so good inside me," your voice broke at the end of the sentence, feeling his cock engorged inside you.

He couldn't speak, his head was foggy with immense pleasure to process your words and respond to them.

"So good, Chris," you cooed, softly grinding back and forth on his lap.

And just like that, you made love to him or either he made love to you, every night was the same except that the pleasure doubled every time your bodies collided and your needs were fulfilled, ever-growing, insatiable.

His alarm clock rang at the crack of dawn, you jolted awake but he hurriedly turned it off and cuddled you back on the bed.

"It's my alarm, you go back to sleep," he whispered to you along with a kiss on your bare shoulder.

Sleep was easy when his touches worked wonders to put you at ease and his kisses were soothing and comforting.

You woke up a while later with him pacing around the bedroom, collecting his things, and putting his shirt on.

"You have an early schedule?" You mumbled while rubbing your eyes.

"A radio interview," he shortly replied.

He climbed onto the bed, brushed your hair away to caress your cheek with a tender look on his face, "I'll be back at dinner time,"

You nodded with a sleepy smile.

He went on to kiss you on your closed mouth because he knew you didn't like kissing in the morning without brushing your teeth.

He pecked your lips again before getting off the bed, slung his backpack on one shoulder then left.

You clutched the duvet to cover your bare chest and shifted on the bed, still drowsy and it was still too early to get ready for work.

"I forgot something," Chan walked back into the bedroom and climbed onto the bed to kiss you.

"I love you," he said and sneaked a quick peck on the lips.

"Good luck on your first day at work!" With a long lingering kiss this time.

You smiled even though you were running out of breath from the kiss, "I love you,"

"Have a good day at work!" You returned.

He took your hand and kissed your knuckles, reluctantly letting it go before he left the bedroom again for real this time.

I don't think I can have dinner at home

It's alright, love

But I'll come home as soon as possible

See you at home

And he was glad that you were waiting for him at home this time for real.

He got home a little after midnight and saw you were sitting on the bed, painting your toenails with blue nail polish.

"Do you need help?" He asked, put his backpack on the desk, and took off his hooded sweater.

You outstretched your hands to hug him while sitting on the bed, "hey, baby," you properly greeted him.

He then sat next to you and pressed a kiss on the side of your face, "How's your first day at work?"

"Long," you shortly replied with a sigh.

You looked so adorable looking sullen like that he couldn't help but kiss your pouty lips.

"Let me do it for you," he offered, taking the small bottle of nail polish from you and lying on his stomach with his head looking over your feet.

"Even your toes are so cute!" Chan praised as he focused on the task at hand.

You watched as he carefully and intently painted your toenails one by one until they were all polished in cobalt blue color.

"How are we looking?" He asked.

You looked down at your feet, wriggling your toes, and smiled, "Well done!"

He looked at you with a grin, satisfied with his work. He then started blowing air on them, making you softly laugh at how it tickled you.

Chan looked over his shoulder and saw you with a questioning look on his face.

"My feet are sensitive," you informed.

That came as new information to him and one that would come in handy when it comes to giving you the right touch.

"You would love some foot rubs then," He proceeded without waiting for your answer and started giving you foot rubs, slipping his fingers in the spaces between your toes and gently massaging it, teasing your sole and making you giggle.

Chan got a little mischievous and planted a soft kiss on the bridge of your foot.

"What's that for?"

"I just wanted to kiss it," he answered, lifted your foot in his hand, and kissed your instep.

You knew he has something planned in his mind for you and you could only watch what he'll do next.

Chan made a long trail of kisses from your ankle to your inner thigh, not stopping even though his head was between your legs, forcing you to spread your legs open for him.

You put your hand in his hair and softly scratched his scalp, "Chris?"

He put a soft kiss on your inner thigh, "yes?"

"I have bad news for you," you said.

His head snapped at yours with eyes widened in slight shock, "what?"

"I'm on my period," you told him with a grimace.

He sighed with eyes closed, that was the last thing he worried about. There are so many things he can do to be intimate with you, it doesn't have to be always about sex. He can touch you, caress you, touch you, cuddle you, and at times, maybe that wouldn't be enough for him but as long as he's with you, it will always be more than enough.

He crawled over your body and hovered above you, pressing his full lips on yours.

"But I still can do this, right?"

You answered by returning the kiss, "have as much as you want."

A new home needs some adjustments and Chan is aware that he hasn't adjusted yet.

Sometimes he forgot that he shared a place with you, he was so used to living alone and living in his way. It resulted in a few conflicts, and disputes. The issues varied from financial issues to trivial things such as he forgot to take out the trash.

And this morning, he found you giving him the glare with your hands carrying the basket of laundered clothes.

"Let me guess," Chan grabbed his chin between his fingers, "I forgot to take out the laundry from the dryer again?" He asked with a grimace and a guilty expression on his face.

You nodded with a thin smile.

"I'm sorry," he grumbled, taking the basket from you and carrying it to the bedroom.

"I told you, let me do the laundry for us," you said, taking a piece of clothing from the basket and folding it.

"I'm sure you're already tired from working," Chan said while also folding his clothes on his lap.

"And you don't?" You raised an eyebrow at him with a triumphant smile.

Chan knew you'd just won the argument.

He didn’t think of it when he asked you to move in with him, that you and he would have something to argue about but funny enough, Chan enjoyed it. When he got mischievous, he would bother you until you get so annoyed.

And sometimes, you make each other mad and he would be the one who makes up with you first because he couldn't stay mad at you for long.

On bad days, the argument heated and things went all over the place, you would be the first one to leave or tell him to leave you alone to avoid saying things you don't mean to say to each other.

But at the end of the day, everything was solved with a deep talk and ended with a kiss.

On the other hand, you like seeing him mad. He looks so hot doing it and you wondered how is that possible.

He would get quiet, jaws all clenched which only accentuates the shapes, and his eyes giving you an intense stare, letting you know he was indeed not satisfied with something.

This was no time to be horny, you bit your lower lip to hold the urge to just throw yourself at him and instead, slowly came up to him.

He sat on the single sofa and played with his phone, you decided to sit on his lap and rested your head on his shoulder.

"Why are you so mad?"

He didn't answer, his eyes stuck to his phone screen and made his face glow in bluish light.

"He's just a colleague from work, we had a few glasses of wine and he insisted on sharing a cab. That's all!" You explained the whole thing in a soft tone with a hand rubbed down his chest.

He still didn't answer but furiously typed into his phone.

He looked like a sulking little kid and it was adorable to you, you couldn't help but let out a low chuckle.

"Chris?" You called.

He didn't even turn his head at you.

"Baby?" You tried calling with a pet name and still failed.

"My love?" Again, with another pet name he usually called you with.

"Channie?" You rarely called him by that name but at that point, you were willing to try anything.

Chan finally turned his head at you and you held yourself from smiling out of triumphant, batted your eyelashes, and pouted at him instead.

"I'm sorry," you sincerely apologized, then buried your head in his neck.

You put your hands around his neck and hugged him, staying like that until he melted into your embrace, holding you back with a hand rubbing the small of your back.

You looked at him and muttered, "I love you,"

That seemed to dissolve his anger away and his eyes turned tender, "I love you," he said back.

You smiled because it always felt nice to hear it or have him say it back to you, there was nothing that came close to the happiness it brought to you.

You kissed him first and he returned the kiss with the same passion, hungrily even.

You broke the kiss to catch a breath.

"Why are you so jealous? You are hotter than him," you said.

You hastily kissed his lips for a second then brought your mouth close to his ear, "and oh, when you're mad like that," you softly groaned.

"So hot, I think I get a little wet," you intentionally turned your voice low and sultry.

Chan smirked at you with his tongue slightly poking out from the corner of his mouth, "only a little?" He asked with an eyebrow raised.

"Why don't you check yourself?" You dared him.

And you shouldn't dare him in the first place, that earned you a few slaps on your inner thighs as he fucked you relentlessly with your legs wide open for him.

Chan is not the type to hold grudges but when he was given the control, time, and space for it, he will do it.

Your hands locked in his death grip as he pinned them by the wrists on your abdomen.

He thrust into you so hard it reverberated throughout your body and your head hit the headboard each time he rammed himself into you.

"Isn't this what you want, mmh?"

You were a moaning mess and tears squeezed out of your screwed-shut eyes, overwhelmed by the sensations. You were unable to respond to any of his words but kept whimpering in a mix of pleasure and pain under him.

Even when you were cumming, Chan didn't slow down but kept thrusting into you and a loud moan ripped out of you.

He placed his mouth on yours to muffle the noises you made and gently bit on your lower lip, making you yelp in pain.

It was the first time that he gets so rough with you but still was a gentleman about it after.

He endearingly caressed you and touched you with so much love, kissing your face as he repeatedly asked, "are you okay?"

He wiped the tears from your eyes with his knuckle, "are you hurt?"

You shook your head, "I'm alright."

He kissed your lips and your cheek after, "still like it when I'm mad?"

You nodded.

He chuckled and pulled you close, wrapping his hands around you, and planting small kisses that made your heart flutter.

"I'm sorry," you apologized to him.

He smiled at you, "it's just me. I hate seeing you with someone else."

"I told you, you're the most beautiful for me," you assured him.

"Yeah?"

You eagerly nodded.

"And you're the most beautiful to me," he said back as he looked deeply into your eyes.

And you like the way he looks at you like you're his most prized possession like you're the only one existing in his world, like you're wholly, truly his.

It was wrong to think that the makeup sex was the only best part of it.

Chan likes how you invaded his life.

Your warm smile replaced the void that usually welcomes him home, your laugh filled the quiet in the room, your scent clung to the bedsheets, and your body became his comfort pillow.

He couldn't look around his place without seeing a trace of you, instead of feeling like he doesn't belong there, he feels quite the opposite.

He feels at home and he believes that's because you're in it.

It was very unusual of him to come home early that day and it was even rare of him for wanting to cook, he planned on greeting you home from work with dinner.

He heard you unlocking the door and he waited for you to notice him standing by the threshold with his arms open.

The surprised look on your face tells it all, you were happy to see him that you immediately crashed yourself at him.

"You're home early!" You exclaimed as you threw your hands around him.

He lifted you off the ground and hugged you tight, "I'm cooking dinner," he told you.

"Really?"

"What's with the surprised tone?" He narrowed his eyes at you.

"Nothing," you answered with a sly smile.

He let the conversation slide and kissed you, a long kiss that makes up for the hours of not seeing you. You let him as you always do, letting him deepen the kiss and have as much taste of you as he wants.

You gasped when he broke the kiss, "go get changed," he said.

He gently squeezed your waist, "I'll prepare dinner."

You nodded and obeyed his words without complaint, went to the bedroom while Chan made his way back to the kitchen.

He stirred the soup he was simmering on the stove and added a few seasonings to perfect its flavor.

What you said to him earlier got into his head that he started to doubt his cooking.

"Babe, can you come here and taste it for me?" He shouted as he kept stirring the bubbling soup.

"Just a minute!" You shouted back from the bedroom.

"It only takes a second," he said back to urge you to come to the kitchen.

"Coming!"

You came behind him and he scooped a spoonful of the broth, he blew on it first before feeding it to you.

"A little bit more pepper will do," you suggested.

Chan sprinkled some into the pot and stirred it, having another taste test with you.

"Good?"

"Perfect!" You replied.

He triumphantly smiled and held your face to kiss your lips, he was expecting to feel any sort of clothing on you but instead of that, his palm met the warmth of your skin.

That was when he realized you came to the kitchen half-naked.

"What are you doing?"

You were covering your breasts with your hand but then you didn't feel the need to since he has seen everything. Also, you didn't want to miss a chance to tease him.

"I was barely dressed when you called me here," you explained.

He gave you the unsatisfied look on his face but it could be two things, mad or aroused, you couldn't tell which but he looks so hot nonetheless.

You took a step back to give him a better view of your body only dressed in white shorts.

"Also, you're not the only one who can walk around the house topless, you know," you said with a playful grin and kept walking backward in the direction of your bedroom.

It's something unexpected like this that keeps things exciting in your relationship and your body will always be enticing to him.

He rested one hand against the kitchen counter and tipped his head to the side, "Oh, is that so?"

You nodded and said, "I can do what I want with my body."

You teased him more by cupping your breasts in your hands.

"They're mine!" He said in the most possessive way.

You shook your head, "no, sir. These are not your property!"

He pointed his spatula at you with a deadly glare on, "pull your pants down!"

"No!" You refused while lingering in the doorway of your bedroom.

"I said pull your pants down!" He ordered once again, louder.

"No!" You answered with a daring smirk and ran into the bedroom without closing the door.

Chan turned off the stove and ran after you, chasing you into the bedroom while you squealed in fear and excitement.

"PULL YOUR PANTS DOWN!!!"

"NO!!!”

However, these unexpected things can also come unpleasantly.

Just like that day when you urged him to come home, he could hear that you were in distress and needed him. He couldn't just drop everything and go, but he tried to make it work, put everything on hold and he'll be back to it after.

You were looking rather anxious as you rushed toward him the second he stepped into the apartment.

"Did something happen? Are you hurt?" He asked while rubbing your back and kissing the top of your head.

He sat you down on the sofa and held your hand, you looked wan and shaken, and your eyes usually filled with glints looked empty that night.

He squeezed your hand to let you know that you weren't alone, "I'm here, my love, it's okay," he assured you with a hand cupping your jaw.

You weakly smiled and held his hand back, "I don't know how to explain this but I'm a week late to my period," you began.

Chan already knew where this headed but it would be wise that you and him to be on the same page about this.

"Have you taken a test?" He asked.

"I'm afraid to do it alone," you sounded so small when you spoke.

He could feel that you were severely anxious and he understood why you needed him. He wrapped his arms around you, taking you into his embrace to offer you the comfort and safety that you needed.

"I'm here and I'll always be here for you. I'll take responsibility for whatever going to come," he murmured to the top of your head.

"I love you," he kissed you on the forehead.

He waited by sitting on the bed as you took the pregnancy test in the bathroom, he got nervous as well. He tried not to think further ahead, he wanted to focus on being present for you.

A few minutes later, you got out of the bathroom and he got up to walk up to you. You hugged him and rested your head against his chest.

"I was so scared," you mumbled with a long sigh of relief.

Chan took it that the result is negative, and he felt a little sad about it then again, he can't be selfish about this.

"I know, baby," he said and kissed the side of your face.

You tilted your head up to meet his gaze, "I'm not ready yet, Chris," your voice broke at the end of the sentence.

He tightened the hold around you and stayed like that for a long time, just holding you with so much love.

"I feel bad because I know you want this," you spoke into his chest, right to his heart.

"No, no, no..." he whispered to you, "you give me more than what I asked of you."

He then held your face with both hands and tenderly kissed your lips, "and I know I'm irresistible but I think we should be careful from now on," he said with a playful smile.

You softly chuckled and kissed him back, "okay."

Chan took it as his job to always remind you on taking your birth control every day. He would send a text at one point in the day to make sure you did.

"Did you take your birth control today, babe?"

"Take your pill today, beautiful!"

"Don't forget to take your pill, my star shine."

Along with other questions on whether you have taken your meals or not. He knows he has to take part in it too by resisting a little whenever the urge came up.

It was easy to say but seeing your body and not touching it was a different thing.

Especially when he came home after a long day and saw you still awake in bed, looking so effortlessly beautiful barefaced with his t-shirt on while sitting against the headboard.

A piece of classical music was playing from your phone and that was why you didn't hear him coming into the room.

"Hey, beautiful girl," he greeted as he put his backpack down on the table.

You glanced up from your book to find him standing at the end of the bed, "hey, my beautiful boyfriend!"

You immediately put your book away as he got on the bed and crawled to you, "let me guess... Chopin?"

"Nope," You put your hands around his neck.

"It's Valse Sentimentale by Tchaikovsky."

Chan leaned in close and grazed the tip of your nose with his, "did you just speak French?"

"Yes, I did."

"Hot!" He murmured and kissed your lips.

It was one of those nights he feels needy for you, he wanted to selfishly make love and be one with you. He kissed you so hard to let you know how much he wanted this.

"Did you take your birth control today?" He asked when he let go of the kiss.

"Yes," you answered.

"Good girl!" He praised you and placed his plump lips on your neck.

He dragged his mouth close to your ear next then softly whispered, "I want to cum inside you tonight."

You turned your head to look at him and he believed you already sensed how much he needed this but first, he needed to know if you consented to this.

"Okay," you said with a smile.

He gave you a long peck on the lips, "I'll go shower first," he said.

When he returned to the bedroom, the lights were dimmed and soft music playing from the portable speaker.

The sight of you bending over the bedside table to light a scented candle welcomed him.

You already changed into a revealing night dress that he could see your naked body through the flimsy fabric and it was safe to say you weren't wearing anything underneath.

The towel hanging low around his hips wasn't enough to cover his hardening cock.

You turned around to find him ogling over you and you walked up to him, trailing his glistening wet body with your hand.

You didn't hesitate to place your mouth on his neck and tasted his freshly showered body, "mmh..." you delightfully hummed.

"You smell so good," you spoke so low it was almost like a whisper.

Your hands slid down his sides until you met his towel, "we don't need this," you said, proceeding to take it off of him.

It has always been him who takes control but that night he wanted you to have control, he wanted to be taken care of by you.

He obeyed when you told him to get on the bed and lay face down, he didn't ask any questions when you lather your hands with fragrant oil and started to massage him.

"You're so tense," you said as you knead on the tensed part of his back.

Chan couldn't say much when you gave him just what he needed.

"Turn over, love," you sweetly ordered.

He complied and lay on his back, seeing you smiling at him as he rested his head on the pillow.

"That was so good," he commented and pulled you by your neck to kiss you.

You smiled against his lips as your hand started to roam around, feeling his taut muscles under your fingertips. You placed a hand on his chest to stop him from getting on top of you.

"Let me take care of you tonight," you muttered.

How could he say no when that was what he wanted and you were giving it to him with a soft smile on your face?

You began by kissing him then made a long trail of kisses from his face down to his chest, stopping by to give a soft lick on each nipple.

The hair brushed his body as you continued your trail of kisses down his body tickling him and at the same time, inexplicably arousing him.

When your hand finally met his swollen cock, he let out a low gasp from his parted mouth. He closed his eyes to feel your soft hands pumping his length, doing it so carefully to give him the utmost pleasure.

You gathered all of your hair to one side of your shoulder and kneeled next to him as you took him into your mouth, little by little.

You paused a few times to catch your breath and kept doing it until you took all of him inside you.

The night dress you were wearing rode up as you bent down over his crotch, exposing your sex to him.

He used the opportunity to knead on your ass cheeks and eventually, teased on your wet core with his fingers.

He could feel the noise you made, vibrating against his cock and it drove him to the edge.

After a moment, you let go of him with a loud popping sound. You lifted the hem of your night dress as you positioned yourself on top of him, kept holding the dress lifted with one hand while the other aligned his cock to your entrance.

He watched as your face reacted to his cock slowly entering you as you kept easing yourself down on him, you took him well every time.

You let out a low giggle once you took all of him, "so good, so good inside me," you murmured with your eyes closed.

Knowing that you enjoy pleasing him only aroused him more that he wanted to pin you on the bed and fuck you all night. But that wasn't the plan that night, he would let you please him your way.

You rested both of your hands on his chest and looked into his eyes, "Ain't I a good girl? I take you well every single time," you lowly said.

He brushed your hair to the side and held it there, "such a good girl for me," he praised.

You smiled in pride and started to roll your hips in circular motions as low moans escaped your slightly parted mouth.

You set a steady pace as you moved back and forth against him while Chan was drowning in the pleasure you brought him.

The thin strap of your night dress slid down your arm, sending your breast spilling out of it. You shot a look at him and asked, "want to take care of it?"

He was more than willing to do it for you. He got up while you settled yourself on his lap without pulling out.

Chan licked his lips before taking your breast in his mouth, sucking on the flesh. You suppressed your painful yelps as his teeth nibbled on your nipples and did the same with your other breast.

He got impatient and took the nightdress off of you in a blink of an eye and he didn't wait to bury his head in between your breasts as you kept moving on him.

You slipped your hand into his soft curls and held him close, "Chris..." you softly called his name.

He looked up at you with his head still between your mounds.

"Someday you'll breed me, yeah?"

He sank his mouth on your neck as you kept talking to him, "I believe it would easy for you, mmh?"

That, he believed is true, getting you pregnant would be a pleasure to him therefore it would be an easy task for him.

He hastily kissed you on the lips and filled his hand with your breast, "I want to see these full of milk," he said against your lips.

His hand moved to your stomach and rubbed it endearingly, "I want to see you with a baby bump," he added.

You seemed to like the ideas too from the way you clenched around him. He knew you wanted this too but you need more time for that.

You briefly kissed his lips, "someday, baby, someday," you promised him.

Someday might be a few months later or takes years, however, he liked the sound of that. Someday sounded possible, full of hope.

You looped your hands around his neck and picked up the pace, "for now, fill me up," you told him.

"Fill me up with your seed!"

Your eyes fiercely stared into his black orbs as he stared back at you with eyes heavy with lust, "will you do that for me?"

"Yeah, yeah," he repeatedly answered with ragged breathing.

"Will you cum for me?"

"Yes."

You pressed a hard kiss on his lips, "you're close, mmh?"

"So close," he shortly replied.

You kept moving at a steady pace, sending him to the edge where he could plunge into the high that would take him soaring to cloud nine.

The words you kept muttering to him gave him the push he needed.

"Cum for me, baby!"

"Chris, oh!"

"Fill me! Cum inside me!"

An ecstasy-like feeling surged through his body as he reached his high, he pushed his cock further into you to plant his seed deep inside you.

He continuously grunted as you cooed at him, "yeah, baby, I can feel it inside me."

Chan kept grunting while you started to hold him and slowly took him down from his high by kissing him, placing touches on his body to keep him in intimacy.

"Look at you, letting me take care of you," you cooed with a sweet smile as if you didn't just fuck him real good.

He couldn't contain his feelings in a moment like this he felt like he could move a mountain for you if you asked him to, "I love you so much, you know that?"

You kissed the palm cupping your jaw, "I know, Chris."

He held you tight and stayed like that for as long as he could, bonding through touches and bodies becoming one with you.

He turned over to lay you down on the bed to let you rest and slowly, he pulled out of you. Some of his white seed leaked out of you and kept dripping, seeping into the bedsheets.

"You came so much," you said with a sly smile.

He would be lying if this didn't get his cock hardening despite he just cummed a few minutes ago.

"Maybe you should refill it," you said as if his mind was see-through and you saw that he was thinking it.

Most of the time, unexpected things came as temptations he can't resist.

How do you even begin to describe what Chan means to you?

He's your home and you like living under his roof, one that protects you from the blazing sun and keeps you warm on winter days.

As time passed, a home went through so many things, storms, rains, and summer heat. Then a house would need a few fixings and you fixed what you could.

In the home you built together, you started to see a crack in the foundation, a small one that you could only see through a magnifying glass, small but it bothers you so much.

With a little understanding, you got it that not all of us can be perfect human beings. We all have flaws that we try to hide, so you put a rug to cover the crack so no one couldn't see it.

"You came home late lately," you hated to sound so demanding to him but he had been absent from most of your days that you started to feel things aren't right anymore.

"I'm sorry, I'm busy," he came with the same answer to every question you asked him: Why he's late to your anniversary dinner? Why he forgot to buy you the cheese you need for the pasta you cook? Why did he keep forgetting to do the favor you asked him? Why why why?

Way before you decided to start this relationship and moved in with him, you knew that he would always be busy with his work. You understood and accepted it, but what you didn't know is that he would keep everything to himself.

His kisses are lovely, his hugs are warm, his touches comfort you, he cares for you, he worries you, and he lays next to you every night yet he wouldn't share what keeps him up all night.

"Why are you still awake?" You asked, placing your head on his chest.

"I have a lot on my mind right now," he replied with his hand brushing your hair.

"Want to share with me?" You knew you can't force him to talk if he didn't want to.

"It's something you shouldn't worry about," he said.

You tried to be an understanding partner to him so you didn't push him further and thought that you've tried your best, you did enough by it.

"I'll be the big spoon tonight," you said.

"Huh?"

You turned his body to the side and put your arms and legs around him, spooning him from behind.

"You're so big, baby," you groaned as you struggled to wrap him in your arms, "I can't hold you."

Chan chuckled in response and helped you to put your hands on his chest instead, then he put his hand on top.

"This is nice," he softly hummed as his body relaxed against you.

You nuzzled your nose into his hair and drank his scent, "my big baby," you cooed.

He turned his head to capture your lips in a kiss, "I love you," he sweetly murmured against your lips and his love confession still sounded as sweet.

Somehow, even if you have covered the crack with the prettiest rug, it bothered you still.

Chopin's Prelude in E Minor was playing from the neighbor's balcony. Which is a very fitting piano piece that sounded just as hopeless as you were. The end of the piece is particularly sad as the melody seems to just fade away into nothingness.

Chan came home late again that night.

You heard his footsteps outside the bedroom, probably having a drink in the living room like he always does lately. You got up from bed and decided to come to join him, who knows that he might like the company?

"Channie is home!" You surprised him with a smile.

He smiled seeing you, holding out his hand for you to take, and sat you on his lap, "why are you still up?"

You curled up on his lap, resting your head on the crook of his neck, "come to bed," you mumbled.

He rubbed your bare back with his knuckle and glided his hand down to the curve of your ass, gently squeezing the flesh there.

"Chris..." Your voice echoed as you called his name.

"Yes?"

You put your chin on his shoulder to look at him, "you know you can tell me anything," you assured him that you are more than eager to listen to whatever he wants to share with you.

He let out a deep sigh and stared at the ceiling, resting his head against the headrest of the sofa, "I'm just tired..."

You looked at him and he looked rather exhausted, you didn't want to pick a fight when he was like this but unfortunately, you got to the point that you couldn't let this go on anymore.

You got off his lap and sat next to him, "What's going on with us?"

The question seemed to wake him up and he sat up straighter to face you, "I know I haven't been here much and I'm sorry, it's just me," he apologized but was overly vague about the reasons why.

"What is it?"

"It's just..." he deeply sighed again and let out a long breath, "I'm just so tired with work and everything."

Again, it was very vague and didn't answer your question.

"Is there anything else, though?" You tried again, speaking calmly to him to not make him feel pressured.

"No, just that," he shortly replied.

Your heart sank, you were disappointed with the answer he gave you and all these things you kept to yourself started to burst out of you.

"I don't understand why you're doing this. I don't understand what this is ab—" you stopped yourself from talking.

A lump was forming in your throat and it grew bigger as you thought of ways to tell him how you've been feeling about all this.

He got defensive all of a sudden so he grabbed your hand and made you turn to look at him, "what are you saying?"

"I'm starting to think that I'm crazy..." you kept swallowing the tears rising inside you.

"You're saying everything is fine but all I'm getting from you is distance and anger," you got choked on your words and took a deep breath to calm yourself.

"I'm not—" Chan pinched the bridge of his nose, he was probably trying to not snap right then and there.

"Where is this coming from?"

You looked at him even though you knew he could see your glossy eyes, "you keep me guessing everything so I started overthinking things and doubting myself..."

Tears rolled down your cheeks, "you make me turn into someone that I'm not."

He held both of your hands on your lap so tight his knuckles turned white, "I never asked you to be anything—"

You hated how he made you a very demanding person that asks anything from him when all you wanted is to be someone he can rely on. You tried so hard to provide a safe space for him but it seemed like it was never enough for him.

You let go of his hands and got up from the sofa, "I don't want to talk," you said, ending the conversation early before any of you said things you don't mean to.

It came as surprise to him as well that he stayed quiet and stunned by what just happened. You didn't wait for him to stop you, you got in bed and started crying.

Frustrated over how things turned out, it was alright a few minutes ago but it was the calm before the storm.

You could only wait and see if the house still stands strong in the morning.

The house survived.

But the crack in the foundation grew bigger and the rug could only cover as much.

You were packing things when Chan came home, you didn't know for what because it was past dinner time and he didn't say he will come home early.

You haven't talked since last night but he kissed you before he left this morning.

You turned around to see him walking into the bedroom and he saw the suitcase, "are you leaving?"

It was heartbreaking to hear that, he thought you'll be leaving because of the argument you had.

"The director wants me to bid for a painting," you quickly explained before he got the wrong idea.

He sat at the end of the bed, "For how long?"

"3 days," you replied.

"When will you be leaving?"

"Tomorrow morning."

There was a silent hang in the air after and it was suffocating, how the two of you have so much to say but at the same time, none of you wanted to risk the relationship.

"Want to talk about last night?" He asked.

But you weren't ready for that, you weren't sure how you feel about it yet but ultimately, you wanted to talk about it when you're prepared with whatever you get at the end of it. Good or bad, you weren't ready for it.

You sat next to him on the bed but avoided looking at him, you stared at your feet instead, "I don't like who I am right now," you told him.

"I need time to think," you added.

Chan nodded in agreement, that it was best for the two of you to take time for yourself to think things through and the work trip just happened to come at the right time.

"Let's do that, yeah," he said with a defeated sigh.

When it was time to go, you dragged your suitcase in the direction of the door and Chan followed you from behind.

He looked miserable in a way that reminded you of that day when you left him to go back to your home country.

It was painful but it was the right thing to do, you both needed the space to grow, reflect on yourselves and find a way to overcome this.

He went to hug you and you hugged him back, exchanging the warmth that you both need in a time like this.

He went to kiss you after with both hands holding your face as if you were a fragile object.

"I love you," he muttered as if he put the essence of him in it and gave it to you to keep.

"Come back safely," he said as he let go of the hug but kept holding your hand in his.

And when you left, you took a piece of him with you and he hoped for you to return it because a home is not a home if no soul is living in it.

It was the distance that separated you once and it happened again for the second time.

But this time, he got separated by the distance he created himself.

Firstly, he didn't mean to do that to you. He was used to keeping things to himself and he wasn't aware that what he did drives you further away.

He understood why you felt that way, if only he told you everything, you wouldn't keep guessing what he keep inside him.

Secondly, he didn't want to burden you with this. He's willing to go through the pain for both of you.

When he thought about it again, he knew it was wrong to keep you in the dark and made you keep guessing your way in. He was wrong to do that when all you've been doing was being open to him, you even let yourself be vulnerable around him because you trust him, trust that he would never hurt you.

Trust is hard to earn yet you gave it to him anyway, and he didn't do the same to you.

That was the part he did wrong. He had been taking you for granted.

And these past two days without you only bringing back those excruciating days of being so far away from you.

The empty bed, the quiet space, the stillness that lingered in his apartment felt like a void without you.

He longed for you.

Even when he was home, he felt homesick because his true home is you.

He went home knowing that you'd be already home and probably asleep in the room, tired from the trip.

When he sat on the bed next to your sleeping figure, God... He was beyond grateful that you came back to him.

He touched you there to feel your heart beating under his palm and accidentally woke you up.

You sleepily smiled at the sight of him.

"You're home," you croaked.

"I am home," he answered without a beat.

He caressed your face and looked at your face, pouring all of his admiration through his tender gaze.

He didn't want to hide from you anymore, he wanted you to have all of him, wholly and completely.

"Can we talk?"

You rubbed his forearm, "okay."

Chan brought you a glass of water while you waited on the sofa, he insisted on doing it for you when you could do it yourself.

"Thank you," you muttered and took a little sip of water.

Chan didn't sit next to you but kneeled in front of you and took both of your hands with his head tilted up to look at you.

"I am so sorry," he began.

He rubbed your fingers as he spoke, "I didn't know what I did would hurt you this much."

He licked his lips to continue talking, "I do that. I'd be upset about something and not be able to say it. When someone senses there's something wrong, I'd deny it."

He sighed in regret, "it's a bad habit of mine."

You looked into his eyes and turned his hands on your lap, letting you hold them for him.

"I don't want to do that anymore," he stated and it's a decision he must take to save the relationship.

"And I want to tell you everything."

He needs to start to learn to share his burden because a relationship goes both ways.

You smiled at him and opened your mouth to speak, "these past few nights that I spent by myself made me think a lot."

You interlaced your fingers with his and continued speaking, "how you've been treating me and I thought... why do I love you?"

Chan felt breathless as if someone emptied the air in his lungs, anticipating what you'll say to him next.

"There are no logical reasons for that question because I don't need one."

You took a breath and cupped his face in your hand, "but I trust myself. I trust my feelings. That my love for you is real."

Chan finally let out the breath he didn't know he was holding, knowing that you still love him means a lot to him.

But still, he needed to hear the rest from you.

"I'm not going to try to be anything other than who I am anymore and I hope you can accept that."

"I can. I will," he repeatedly nodded to convince you.

He brought your hand close to his mouth and placed a long kiss on the back of your hand.

"You know, I can feel the fear that you carry around and I wish there was something I could do to help you let go of it," you said with your hand going in his hair and softly scratching the back of his head.

He shifted his attention back at you, eyes never straying away from yours even just for one second.

"Because if you could, I don't think you'd feel so alone anymore," you finished with a soft smile.

Your hand went in his hair and softly scratched the back of his head.

The moment that being said, Chan felt like he was the luckiest man in the world to have you. You are so many things to him and he's glad to find that in someone, in you.

"Gosh, you're beautiful!" He muttered heartfelt praise at you.

"Thank you," you muttered back in gratitude and a sweet smile.

"Can I kiss you now?" His eyes filled with hopeful glints.

You chuckled at him and gave his hair a ruffle, "since when did you ask for permission first?"

You held his face in your hands and softly landed your lips on his, giving him the kiss that he badly craved.

A kiss that rejuvenated his soul and gave him a will to go on, a kiss that sets everything back to square one and starts anew.

You both smiled at each other as the kiss ended.

Chan then rested his head on your lap and let you play with his hair, tangling his soft curls around your fingers.

"Can I be the little spoon tonight?" He asked.

"Absolutely!"

He grinned like a little kid and without warning scooped you up from the sofa, carrying you to the bedroom.

You giggled into his neck as he sneaked a kiss on your temple.

"You're too big," you groaned as Chan pulled your arms and wrapped them around him, struggling to make your hands meet. He took your leg next and put it over his waist, he wanted to be cocooned in your warmth.

"This is perfect!" He sighed the moment he successfully put your hand on his chest and put his hand on top.

His other hand went to caress your thigh and doing it so tenderly as if he was caressing a sleeping kitten.

"This isn't Chris," You playfully remarked with your head resting so close to his.

Chan was enjoying the comfort of your cuddle to provide a verbal answer, he responded with a hum and little noises.

"This is Channie," you added.

"Mmh," he cutely responded with a tiny nod.

You lowly chuckled into his ear, "Baby Channie!"

If he heard that from someone else, he wouldn't fancy it as much when it was you who called him by it. He turned his head to look at you and kissed you.

"My big baby," you cooed at him with a quick peck on the lips.

It felt good to be in someone's embrace and not think that he was weak for doing that.

All this time, he always thought that he needs to be the one in control and be the one who takes responsibility for everything, be the bigger person, strong, brave.

As he stayed there feeling small in your embrace, he knew for certain that you were stronger, braver, and bigger than he thought. You had been through so much in this relationship yet you were still here for him.

This home that you built together is only as strong as your relationship and the two of you make great, sturdy pillars.

The sun was out but that wasn't the only thing that woke you up.

Chan's fingertips trailed down your spine and you gasped as you felt his warm lips on the nape of your neck. He noticed that you were awake, proceeded to kiss your cheek, and brought his mouth close to whisper in your ear, "Is it too late to have the makeup sex now?"

You silently smiled and squinted through your eyes to see the time, you have to go to work in under two hours. You calculated it in your head if you have time for what he wants.

"No," you answered and spun your head to meet his gaze.

"But I don't think we have enough time for that," you added with a pout.

His hand got ahead of the conversation and started to cup your sex, "we'll make it alright," he assured you.

"You think so?" You slurred.

He captured your lips in a hungry kiss, "mmh."

Chan was undeniably gorgeous with the pale sunlight shining down on him, making his sculpted abs appear more defined and his pale skin glowed.

Not to mention, he was thrusting into you slowly and each thrust went deeper than the previous.

It was never just sex with him when he put all of him whenever he did it. He didn't need to say anything, his body tells it all.

His hand firmly holding you yet he tenderly touched you in the right places. His intense stare told how much he desired you yet his eyes filled with admiration for you. His passionate and deep kisses told how much he wanted you yet his lips never ran out of sweet praises to mutter to you. His strong body held you without feeling like he was holding you back.

As he was making love to you, he made you feel like you're the only one he's giving all of his body and soul to.

When he cum inside you, he did it as a way to claim you.

"Take all of me," he murmured.

He hastily kissed you while he pushed his cock further inside you as he was still cumming, "take all of me, baby," he repeated.

You wrapped your legs around his waist and kept him close all the while you were feeling his cock twitching, engorging inside of you.

"You're mine," he breathlessly said against your lips.

"I'm yours," you said back.

"I love you."

Chan didn't let you go because what's more important to him is not the sex but the cuddles after. This is what took most of the time you had left to get ready for work.

"Stay," he said as he pressed a kiss on your lips with his arms caged you in between.

"I can provide for us," he casually said.

You smiled against his lips and gently pushed him away, "why don't you stay?" You aimed the question back at him.

Your hands cupped his face, "I can also provide for us," you added with a sly smirk.

Chan got quiet for a moment and nodded in acknowledgment, "okay, that's fair," he said in defeat.

When you returned from the bathroom still in your bathrobe with your hair already styled and your make-up done, you found Chan already picked your outfit for you.

He spread it on top of the bed, shirt, skirt even the matching underwear he wanted you to wear that day.

"Breakfast will be ready in a minute!" He announced as he saw you come to the kitchen to pour yourself a cup of coffee.

You went to give him a quick back hug but that wasn't enough for him, he turned around to give you a proper hug and a kiss.

A hand slipped under your skirt to knead on the ample flesh of your ass, "have you taken your pill?"

You nodded, "last night."

He kissed your cheek, "good because I want to cum inside you again tonight," he said.

You burst out laughing and exclaimed, "Chris!"

"What?"

"The day has just started," you stated an obvious fact and that you just had sex barely an hour ago. You couldn't lie though, the way he shamelessly and openly let you know how much he wanted you made you tingling inside.

He slyly grinned at your words, "I picked that underwear for you so I can take it off of you later," he said.

The fresh coat of lipstick you applied after breakfast went to waste because Chan wouldn't stop kissing you.

"We'll be late," you reminded him yet didn't stop him from placing another kiss.

"Just one more," he pleaded and gave you a long, lingering kiss that takes your breath away.

You didn't need to check yourself in the mirror to know that the lipstick faded on your lips. You quickly wiped it off of him, not letting him out of the door with your lipstick smeared all over his lips.

You both walk hand-in-hand to the elevator and waited for it to arrive.

"I'll be home for dinner tonight," he said to you at the same time the elevator chimed open.

"I'll order dinner," you said.

"Sounds great!"

He tightened his hold on your hand when someone else got into the elevator and pulled you to be as close as possible to him.

"Keep your eyes on me," he whispered to you.

You chuckled at his silly warning and decided to prove your loyalty to him by scooting closer to his side and then linking your arm with him.

You watched as his grin grew wider on his face like a kid who got his candy.

This is Chan's least favorite part of the day.

After the elevator arrived in the lobby, you had to part ways because you'll be taking a taxi to work while Chan headed to the gym nearby by walking.

It was like the hours he spent with you weren't enough for him and will never be. He wanted to stick with you all day if he could.

Wasn't it clear that he was so in love with you?

He got so weary every time he has to let you out to the world, knowing what it can do to a beautiful thing like you.

He grabbed your hand to stop and softly kissed you on the cheek, "be careful!"

"I will," you replied with a smile.

But of course, you could easily sense his worry but knows how to put him at ease, "I'll call you when I get there."

Trust. He trusts you, therefore he has nothing to be worried about. Slowly, he let go of your hand and set you free but kept you closer to his heart.

"I'll see you at home," you said with one final kiss on his lips even though you are the one who made a home for him.

Chan smiled for he was thankful for you and the stars that aligned his path with yours, destined him to meet you in this lifetime.

"I'll see you at home!" He muttered back as he knew he couldn't find a place like this again: a home in a person.

As he watched you leave and walked further away from him, Chan felt homesick already.

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#stray kids smut #skz smut #bangchan smut #skz chan smut #bangchan x reader #skz x reader #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #skz imagines #skz scenarios #skz fics #skz fanfics #kpop smut #kpop fics #kpop fanfics #seospicy smut

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xjulixred45x · 26 days

Note

Hello :3 can I request a story or one shot about an evil invincible(prefer sinister makr) try to kidnap reader from the mainstream dimension, bc the reader of their dimensions dead :3 (platonic yandere ofc)

Sorry if this long, I just have this scenario in my head for days and I need someone to write it 😭🙏🙏

Take your time, and your work is amazing 💟💟💟

Hun, the Requests are Closed, but honestly? I can do this just bc My obsesión with Invincible isn't over yet(and will LAST) and honestly i NEED to write something (just the nex time wait until the Requests are Open again thank You very much)

This would be more a Drabble, aaaand i decide to use Mohawk Mark(1- i already have a work of Yandere Sinister Mark with a Sibiling and GOD i wanted to use this idea for so long 😭)

Platonic Yandere Mohawk Mark Grayson/Invincible x Sibiling Reader: You..

Mark had to take a second look as he passed by them.

Being surrounded by chaos, hurt people, buildings burning and falling down, he could only focus on them.

that was reader.

Mark knew that they were not His reader, not only because of the clear physical differences (his reader would have to be bigger, less soft and not even that small) but because he knew that in his universe there was no longer a reader who would wait for him back.

He had taken care of that himself.

It was when he began to question everything, when he accepted that he was part of the Viltrumite empire, that he realized that he could not bring his Sibiling with him. They were too weak for the empire, Nolan said.

Mark didn't want to see how they conquered the only being that made him feel genuinely happy, genuinely understood, he didn't want reader to live to be afraid of him, to hate him.

so he took the only measure that he thought would be the most merciful.

It was easy to put sedatives in Reader's food, they trusted him so easily, even after everything that was happening at that moment, what he had already done, Reader felt safe with him. Mark loved them so much.

which made what he had to do next even more painful.

reader fell asleep in a matter of minutes, leaning on him while they watched something, he doesn't remember what. Mark moved to rest their head where they were, mentally preparing himself for what he was going to do.

And he did.

a quick turn of their head and reader was gone.

quickly, while they slept, without pain. without knowing it was him. it was perfect.

Except it wasn't.

When they were making preparations for a funeral for his sibiling (they were one of the children of the new Viltrumite emperor after all), a quick analysis determined that Reader, like Mark, was just a late bloomer.

reader was about to awaken their powers. of being a complete viltrumite. they were not human, they could have been saved from seeing the horrors of the planet.

and Mark killed them.

and the feeling that remained in him was the only thing he felt since then. pure, agonizing and desperate Guilt.

Mark couldn't bring himself to try to replace the void Reader left like he had done with Eve, he just couldn't even think about it. It felt like tarnishing their memory, taking away the weight of what he had done.

It was as if the image of his sibiling now resonated both to give him comfort and to reproach him for all the horrible acts he committed.

So seeing that face that tormented him again, that face that in a way kept him alive, was creepy, but he needed more.

Mark caught up with them very quickly, as he got closer, he saw the similarities that this reader had with his own. someone young, inexperienced, fearful, weak...

But he was not prepared for what happened when he approached them. God, after so many years without them, with the guilt of what he did to them, Mark just wanted to hug them and ask for their forgiveness, he had the opportunity.

But the closer he got to the reader, the more they retreated, and then he realized that, indeed, one of his greatest insecurities had been fulfilled, even in another universe.

reader was afraid of him.

But I could tell I didn't hate him. His gestures, his blood pressure, the way he spoke to him so as not to have to fight, everything indicated a certain familiarity despite the tension in the atmosphere. This reader was like a blank slate from its original version.

a second chance. He could do things right with this reader, protect him properly, give him the opportunity he deserved within the empire, have his sibiling back...

but it would be very difficult to do that with this good-natured Mark on his heels every time he was around reader. Mark saw RED every time reader showed the closeness he had with said alternative version of him (which to make matters worse, it seemed like they were from the same universe).

Well, if this Mark is so good and heroic, he wouldn't mind handing over his sibiling willingly, right?

Even if not, Mohawk doesn't mind going over him to get to the reader, even if he scares then, even if they hates him, he won't lose sight of them anymore, he won't lose them again.

They're going home together, whether they like it or not.

Shares, reblogs and comments are very welcome!

#headcanons #neutral reader #invincible #yandere evil mark #yandere mohawk mark #mohawk mark #invincible imagine #invincible show #invincible series #evil invincible #invincible spoilers #evil mark grayson x reader #yandere platonic #platonic reader #yandere mark grayson #mark grayson x reader #mark grayson

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younggayanddoingokay · 5 months

Text

Been thinking a lot about the contrast between Gabriel/beelzebubs love story and Crowley/aziraphale’s love story and tbh it makes perfect sense to me.

Gabriel and Beelzebub had an idyllic and simple love story because they are fundamentally not complicated as beings. They’ve never, not once in their immortal existences, stopped for even a second to question themselves and whether they were doing the right thing. And it makes sense, because they’ve never had reason to. With the exception of the Armageddidn’t, every single thing has always worked out exactly the way they wanted to.

They were both at the very top of their power structures- other than a mostly absent g-d/satan- and so they were the ones giving the orders. They wanted something done, and it happened! Just like that. So of course when they fell in love, they went “oh okay,” saw what they wanted, and made it happen. They went for it without a single question or doubt because it’s what they’d always done, and it worked out largely because they expected it to. End of story, start of blissful eternity on alpha centauarion.

Now, az and Crowley, on the other hand, have done nothing but question themselves and their decisions and basically everything around them for 6000+ plus years. Even before humans, they were never quite as at ease within the status quo as everyone around them. And then humans came along, and they “went native”. They’re not human, no, but they’re about as close as you can get and still have wings. so of course their love story was so achingly human. I mean, what else could it be, really?

They’re on their own side, and they question and they doubt and they pine and they agonize over furtive glances and stolen touches and communication breakdowns and it’s an absolute mess.

Because their love story is so human and that’s what makes it so beautiful.

#good omens #ineffable husbands #Gabriel/beelzebub #crowley/aziraphale #good omens season 2 #good omens season 2 spoilers

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yandere--stuck · 4 months

Note

if you have any more thoughts on the Joker Junior extending the family take I'd love to hear them!! Would J be interested in having Nightwing with them? Or Alfred? I'm not sure how well either of them would take to the venom, but if they have Batman anything's possible

Less ideas and more of an actual fic, oopsie!

---

Three weeks. Three long, agonizing weeks without Tim. Three weeks of hoping beyond all hope that he was somehow fine. That they'd all look back on this and laugh.

But, no. Eventually, Bruce was able to get word that The Joker and Harley had holed themselves up in the abandoned Arkham Asylum, and something in his gut that made him sick knew there was some correlation.

Part of him hadn't wanted Barbara to come along, but he also knew he wouldn't be able to stop her even if he tried. So, the two of them traversed through the crumbling asylum together and followed the echoing sound of Harley's voice singing a lullaby.

“Hush, little baby, don't say a word,

Mama's gonna buy you a mockingbird,

And if that mockingbird don't sing,

Mama's gonna buy you a diamond ring….”

Closer, closer. It took both of them every bit of will they had not to sprint through the halls as fast as their legs could carry them. As Harley’s voice grew even louder, Barbara split up to find another way in while Bruce took the lead. His heart nearly leapt from his chest with anticipation as he closed in on her location.

“And if that diamond ring is brass,

Mama's gonna buy you a looking glass,

And if that looking glass gets broke-”

The moment Harley saw him burst through the double doors, she perked up, greeting Bruce with a smile. She was cradling a flower vase in her arms, which she set down onto a covered table. Craning her neck, she shouted over her shoulder. “Puddin’, Hubby's home!”

Bruce’s eyes followed Harley’s gaze, spotting Joker on the second floor where he rested on a recliner. With a flourish, The Clown rose to his feet, turning away from his rabbit-eared television set and popping a pipe from his mouth, tossing it aside.

“Well, hello, dear!” Joker strolled down the stairs, stopping just shy of Batman. He wrapped an arm around Harley, the two of them smiling sweetly at their bat. “Welcome home.”

Bruce all but snarled in their faces, leaning close and baring his teeth. “Where's Robin?”

Both clowns shared a quizzical look.

“Robin?” Joker repeated with a quirk of his head. “There's no Robin here!”

“Maybe he means our little J,” Harley offered.

The Clown Prince of Crime snapped his fingers. “Of course! That's it.”

Meeting the Bat's eyes, smiling back at his scowl, Joker gestured to the other side of the room. To whatever was being concealed behind the large blue curtain. And Bruce couldn't help his rage, shoving the couple aside roughly as he moved to cross the room.

The Joker stumbled back, recovering with the shake of his head and click of his tongue. “He must be so stressed out from work.”

“I hate it when he gets like this. He never knows when ta relax,” Harley shook her head and reached underneath the table, pulling out a bazooka from beneath the tablecloth. She fired, and a band of ribbons erupted from the muzzle, knocking Batman to the floor with a hard thud and wrapping him up like a gift - bow and all.

“Good thing he has us. Hmm, now what say we bring this little gift of ours back to the bedroom to unwrap?”

Joker's grin stretched just a little wider as he noticed the movement of Batman's hand - holding it up just so as if to signal someone, just out of eyesight, to stand down. Joker's eyes crinkled. Perfect. He wondered, was it the eldest birdboy? Or maybe they'd be getting two bats with one stone?

“Y'know, Bat's, we've been doing this little run around for years,” Joker spoke again, approaching his prone enemy. “It's been loads of laughs! But the sad fact is - none of us are getting any younger.”

Harley joined his side, patting her stomach. “That ol’ clock's a tickin’!”

“Quite right, Pooh! So, Harley and I were thinking it's about time the three of us finally settled down together.”

“But rather than experiencing the joys of pregnancy, we decided the best way would be to just marry into the family.”

Hand-in-hand, the clowns walked over their Bat's prone form to each rest a hand on the curtain in front of them.

“But no matter how happy we are to join you, we were a bit disappointed that we didn't really have the chance to nurture them, too,” Joker lamented. “And after all, what better way to officially join the family than to impart a little bit of our personalities to the kiddos? He needed a bit of molding, of course, but-”

The couple yanked on each side of the curtain, the blue cloth sliding and billowing out as it parted - revealing a child strapped to a medical examination table.

“... What kid doesn't?” Joker finished with a grin, drinking in the Dark Knight's reaction.

Bruce couldn't help the exhale of ‘no’ that left him. Couldn't even blink, too horrified to look away from what had been done to Tim. The horror set in all at once, like freezing water flooding through every nerve in his system.

Joker brought Tim forward with the click of a button, the table rolling forward and bringing the boy into the light.

Tim...

His face an acid-washed white. His hair an unearthly green. His Robin costume now replaced with an exact recreation of Joker's own suit. And his face… Contorted in a pained smile and his eyes wide and afraid, unblinking.

“Say hello to Dada, JJ,” Joker cooed.

Tim's eyes, seeming to glow red in the light, shifted from Joker to Batman. He leaned further into the light, locking eyes with Bruce, and laughed. He laughed in a way Bruce had never, ever heard before. He unbound himself from the table, leaping to the floor on scrawny legs - God, how much weight had he lost in such a short amount of time. What had they done to his boy?

All at once, the cold shock and dawning horror inside Bruce shifted - and his whole body was alight with rage, like a fire inside threatening to escape through every orifice as he ripped through his bonds. The shout he made was near inhuman, launching a batarang he had cut the ribbons with directly at Joker's head, only for the Clown to dodge it with ease.

Harsh giggles flooded from Joker's throat, wiggling a finger in a ‘come hither’ motion before jumping onto the now vacant medical table, rocketing off with the click of a button, causing Bruce to almost stumble and reorient himself to take off after him - and leaving Barbara to deal with Harley.

—

Giggles bubbled from Tim JJ's throat as he stared unblinkingly down at his father, body crumpled on the floor, cape draped almost protectively over his prone body. And with giddy glee, The Joker Papa J hopped down from the giant building blocks he was perched upon, where he had sliced at Batman and sent him tumbling down only seconds ago.

It was all a blur for Bruce. The chase. The horrific videos of Tim… Tim's torture. Three weeks. Three weeks of that Hell. Electrocution. Beatings. Torment. Starvation. And it was all his fault. He'd failed him. The rage that had filled him nearly completely, made him seen red, had all been snuffed out.

First Jason. Now Tim. And Bruce still couldn't bring him to end this. His vision swam, and he could barely even focus. Not on Tim. Not on the man who tortured him. But… Wait. Where was-?

With a final hop, Joker landed in front of Batman in a crouch, hovering over him with a sly grin.

“You've lost, Bruce,” He rasped, and just hearing the name on the clown's lips made JJ seize up, his forever-smile momentarily twitching and a flood of nervous giggles escaping him. The clown continued, voice low. “Robin is mine… And now, so are you.”

And with a hearty heft, Joker lifted Bruce up by the scruff of his cowl and cape, as if presenting him. The grin of his face, the look in his eyes, as he looked down on his enemy. So proud of himself, so smug.

And Bruce. He looked in a daze, lost and beaten. Blood dripped from his lips.

This isn't what Papa promised. He said everything would be okay now. That he'd see Dad and Dick and Babs and Alfred again and he wouldn't be mean or hurt him again, because Papa knew he would be good now…

But when Joker met his eyes, something in them changed - his smile warping to somehow become comforting, happier. The darkness in his eyes dissipated, replaced with an excited shine. And with a free hand, The Clown grabbed for a large gun that looked more like a toy than anything.

“Here ya go, sonny-boy!” He said, tossing the weapon.

JJ scrambled forward to catch it. He couldn't help but notice how light the gun felt as he cradled it in his shaking, gloved hands. For a moment, he couldn't look away.

“Make him one of us,” The Joker urged, voice like a hiss.

It wasn't a conscious decision to aim the gun. It just happened. Like one minute, JJ was there and gone and back again. His hands shook so hard that he could hardly keep the weapon straight. Could barely even look at him. At the mask. At the man behind it.

“Tim…” Batman breathed. JJ had never heard his voice sound so small.

JJ would swear he couldn't breathe if it weren't for the rapid rise and fall of his chest and the wheezing, giggling exhales that escaped him as he struggled to calm down. Tears threatened to pool from his eyes.

This wasn't right. But, Papa knows best. He said everything would be okay afterward. He said he wouldn't be punished again. But, he couldn't. But, he couldn't run, either - too scared. Too weak. He wanted to be home. He wanted his family. He wanted to stop crying, to be able to breathe, to run into his fathers’ arms-

“It's alright now, JJ,” The Joker soothed, recapturing the boy's attention. “Just pull the trigger, and everything will be okay.”

JJ wanted his Papa to be telling the truth. He just wanted everything to be okay. He just wanted it all to stop. Bruce, please forgive him.

His finger squeezed around the trigger-

Joker's laugh filled the room, just as a green mist began flooding from the gun’s opening. It spread through the air and quickly covered both men. Joker laughed long and loud as he clung to Batman. He pulled his Bat into an embrace, a smile so bright and wide it made the corners of his mouth rip, as Bruce began to choke and hack.

The man seized up and shook in Joker's arms. Slow at first, but soon trembling and writhing in agony, barely restrained and pained chuckles escaping him. So much hurt flooding through every nerve and system that almost faculties left him. His lungs burned, his face ached, he couldn't feel his extremities and wouldn't have been able to hold himself up without Joker's hold on him. Bruce wasn't sure if he could speak or even breathe anymore, but somehow his body found it in itself to betray him, forcing laughter from gritted teeth.

Joker took a knee, gently laying Batman to the ground. The bat spasmed and jerked. Tears began to fall from behind his mask, shining on his cheeks in the light. Gloved hands caressed the sides of Bruce's face. Green eyes glinted in the light as they watched each movement of the other man - every sputter, every gasp, every choked out laugh, every pained, slowly blooming smile that wobbled onto his face.

“You must be so scared, aren't you, sweetheart?” Joker cooed. “You've been scared this whole time, haven't you? Ever since that night in the alleyway...”

Batman didn't reply - couldn't. His eyes crinkled as his smile grew involuntarily. All he could do was return the man's gaze with a manic smile that wasn't his own.

Joker stroked the top of his cowl lovingly. “But it's okay now, Bruce. You don't have to be scared anymore. You don't have to be strong. Don't have to hold yourself back. Me and Harl will build you back up to what you were meant to be. We'll be brave for you now. And do you know why?”

Bruce couldn't respond. For one, the agony of whatever this was, whatever Joker had planned for him, blotted out almost all thoughts in his mind completely. Could only tremble and writhe and cry and laugh. Laugh. Laugh. The laughing made it hurt just a little less. But he could still barely even register what the other man was saying. What he could register, though, was the image of Joker slowly leaning down to press his lips to Bruce's cloaked forehead.

“Because we love you.” Joker finished.

—

“Ohhhh, Harley!” Joker's voice rang through the cavernous halls of the abandoned asylum. “Barbie's turn!”

Barbara's stomach sunk to her feet and her heart skipped a beat. Barbie? No. No, there was no way, he could have known her name. Oh God, what happened to Bruce-?

In the middle of her ruminations, Harley caught her by surprise. A jab to the face, the pull of her leg to trip her up leaving her scrambling to correct her fall- only for her to feel hand grasp tightly at the nape of her neck, coiling painfully at the root of her hair. She was shoved onto her stomach, face-to-face with the dirty, cracked tiles of the former asylum’s floor.

“You know what that means! C'mon, Barbie,” Harley grunted, fingers twisting in the roots of her hair. She lunged forward, slamming her face to the floor with a sick crunch. “Let's go party!”

And everything went dark.

… Barbara awoke with a groan. The smell of pennies flooded her nostrils. Her vision was bleary and swam as she struggled to open her eyes.

A dark figure entered her vision from her periphery, and it loomed over a figure clad in purple. And for a moment, just one moment, she allowed herself to hope.

But, that hope crumbled just as quickly as Joker's voice entered her ears.

“You're okay, Bruce, you're okay, sweetie. You're gonna play nice now, right?”

Barbara couldn't help but shudder at the sound of Bruce's laugh in reply.

Hands found their way to Barbara's hair again, this time much softer. Not grabbing, just brushing and stroking almost soothingly.

“Wakey, wakey, eggs ‘n bakey,” Harley sang as she carded her hands through the younger woman's hair. “Y'know, I've always wanted a daughter. A little girl of my own. You think you'd ever want Mama to braid your hair for you? It's so pretty!”

“Ah, welcome back to the land of the living, Barbie,” Joker greeted. “Your Dad and I were just talking about you. A real chip off the ol’ block. Now all we need is to make it official.”

Barbara watched as Tim approached Bruce, pushing a gun of some kind into his hands. The Batman held it in his hands, smiling down at the weapon - but seemed almost hesitant. Unsure. Like he knew this was wrong. Like the weapon would somehow come alive and bite him.

“Batman, listen to me,” Batgirl pleaded. “Don't do this. Whatever they've done to you, this isn't you.”

“Oh, but it is! And soon it'll be you, too,” Harley corrected, walking back to give herself some distance.

“I know you're torn, Batsy, but I promise this is for the best,” Joker rubbed circles into the other man's back. “We'll all finally be together. Once we get Barbie here, then we'll get Dick and Al. And we'll be a family! They'll never be hurt again. You'll never be hurt again, sweetheart. I won't let anything bad happen anymore. You'll get your happily ever after. You won't be afraid ever again, I promise.”

Tears stung at Barbara's cheeks as she begged. “Batman, please!”

And for a moment, she thought she somehow got through to him. They locked eyes and Bruce smiled at her with a smile that isn't his own. But, she thought she could see understanding or recognition or something in his eyes, and was sure he'd toss the gun away and start kicking Joker's ass.

But, she was wrong.

With a hiss, green toxin flooded all around her. Even over her screams, the sounds of Joker, Tim, Harley, and Bruce's laughter smothered her completely. And soon after, so did her own.

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