#i see you i love you you are worthy <33

[positivelyadhd]

sending my love to people with slow processing speeds.

you should be allowed to take your time to do things and I am so sorry if people have ever made you feel like you can't.

you and your contributions are just as worthy as everyone else's, the speed in which you do them should not impact that.

I am so sorry if you ever been made to feel like you weren't good enough because you "couldn't keep up".

you are good enough. you are trying enough. there is nothing wrong with you and it's not your fault.

[nishiyako]

KENJI & DOGGY STYLE (DRABBLE) (NSFW)

Someone reposted one of my Kenji fics and said "ugh he'd so love doggy style", now that I read this, yes, “he’d so love doggy style”. So here's some Kenji doggy style brain rot/Drabbles.

Tags : Doggy style (duh), Creampie mentioned, Pulling out, Dommy Kenji, Praise n sweet talk from Kenji <3, Degration too, Spanking, Kenji puts out a cig on you (can't get over it, srry), not proofread, written in 20 minutes.

Ever since he's seen you he just knew you would look perfect on your hands and knees for him, his hands maybe with a handful of your hair forcing you bounce against his hips while he absolutely spoils you by finishing on your skin.

His chest right against your back, feeling his warm skin against yours and his heavy breathing right beside your ear cooled by the cold gold dog tag necklace he wears that's pressed between your bodies (obviously the necklace stays on)

Everyone knows he's the type to talk you through it, humming the sweetest praises and treating your insides like its his god, rubbing that spongy spot inside you only making you get that much closer, the type that makes you light headed, out of breath, questioning your worth, y'know?

“You like that? Yeah, bet you do.” or “Doing so fuckin’ good for me, yeah?” his words always followed with the most needy, lustful, most porn hub worthy moans you’d ever hear.

Believe he has an impeccable pull out game, pulling out of you just before finishing, using your lower back as a canvas of his warm sticky seed, seeing the build up of stressful days and hard practices painted over his lover while your thighs are absolutely stained and sticky.

While you’re still panting and irrational he asks to take a photo, not a few days after you see it as his phone's home screen.

You want him to be mean? if it's what you're into he’ll absolutely bully you if you want him too. A hand covering your mouth as he complains that “You’re too loud” and while he calls you a slut. He can’t help the fact he’s into you. He’ll even ask you to put your hair in pigtails or a ponytail just so he can hold you like that, seeing that little arch in your back just for him? Does wonders to his ego.

Get's a bit rough here...

He has no problem being rougher than that too, playing into that sick and twisted bad boy fantasy (some of) you have of him, scene being something like a cigarette in his mouth and him ripping your fishnets open. 

Railing you into next week with red hand marks on your skin from his spanking fueled by the cute little yelps you let out. Your eyeliner streaming down your face as your eyes roll back, white starting to stain your ruined (once was) black fishnets, something straight out of a porn hub video. He doesn't mind finishing inside you either if you ask nicely.

His hand pinning your wrists against the bed as the other one took his almost out cigarette and taping it, putting it out on your skin, some of the ash sticking against the shiny sweat on your body, finishing inside you with no warning, the feeling of getting filled up to suddenly pushing you over the edge.

(But no matter which kind of fannon Kenji you prefer, I hope y'all enjoyed hearing out my little doggy style Kenji fantasy.)

Repost in question :

@gotosleeeep love you sm <33

[pastryfication]

I loveeeee the piastri family too could you write Nicole picking up Oscar + reader from the airport in aussie 😢 just super fluffy and sweet

very short but sweet blurb <33 thank u for requesting i hope you like it

you’re practically dragging your feet towards the exit of the airport, exhaust a feeling you have long since accepted in your body. the flight from london to melbourne is long, and although you’ve taken it numerous times at this point, it still manages to to thoroughly exhaust you. the fact that it’s the middle of the night doesn’t help either, and you’re pretty sure that if it wasn’t for oscar buying you snacks and carrying half your luggage, you would have given in to the exhaust a long time ago.

but oscar is there. he’s right beside you as you track through the melbourne airport at 3am. it’s your home country. the place you both coincidentally grew up—it’s weird, because you met after you had both moved to london, and finding out he was a fellow aussie was like finding out your love was destined to be.

nicole is picking you up, you’d arranged that ahead of time so you didn’t have to worry about transportation on top of everything else. you had thought that it would be a good idea, but as you spot her—and to your surprise, hattie as well— you realise that it’s more than a good idea. it’s the best idea you’ve had in a very long time.

you want to drop all your things and sprint towards them in a movie worthy reunion, but you stop yourself just in time. prettying should be oscar who greeted them first—they’re his family after all—so you purposely slow down your pace, giving oscar a little head start towards his mother and sister.

nicole smiles as she reaches out for her son, hugging him tightly for a moment before quickly moving on to you. she holds you tightly as well, rubbing your back in a motherly way that softens your entire body. it isn’t til oscar starts complaining that she missed you more than him that she steps back—but not without flicking his ear while teasingly glaring at her oldest child.

hattie greets you next, and she doesn’t even try to hide the fact that she’s there to see you and not your boyfriend. she springs on you, enveloping you in a hug that almost makes you topple over, and you hug her right back with the same intensity.

oscar smiles at you when you break free of the hug, and he smiles even brighter when his sister reaches down to take one of your bags so you have a free arm to interlock with hers.

and when his younger sister starts pulling you along towards the car, oscar’s smile is almost breaking his face.

it’s good to be home.

[wispscribbles]

sorry for the like spam but 🫠😩😭😖 YOU!! your Soap is cartoon-worthy, as in I need you to get a contract for an ATLA-lvl show (which I would watch). He expresses love for Ghost the way I would. & them as PUPPIES?! I love wolves SO MUCH?!!! & yours look so soft together! Simon & Johnny w/their respective rugged beards, looking 🔥. The body type you gave Ghost is gorgeous & realistic. & finally: the color portrait of him, with all his scars. There’s so much DETAIL! The coloring is like he’s rendered! I kept scrolling back up JUST to look at him 🥰

I LOVE when ppl spam likes and reblogs, and I get to see them go through my entire page /gen !!! It's the best feeling <33 Thank you so much for everything you said - ATLA animated 141 show when?? I'd watch that. And thanks for reminding me of wolf ghoap, it's been a hot minute since I've drawn the puppers

[minotaurs-my-beloved]

Your first lesson in riding

Cowboy minotaur my beloved<33

TW: nothin! i just love minotaurs and this has been sittin in my drafts for like months. forgive me if the dialogue isn't the best, im not used to writing it

In an attempt to get a fresh start on life, you and a really close friend had recently moved to a new small town in the south thinking it'd be the perfect place. And after a long first day at work, you decided to go to the local bar, wanting to let loose a bit after the stress of moving and your job. 

Standing at the bar, you rest your crossed arms on the wood, ordering a drink. Keeping to yourself because, let's be honest, none of us have the confidence to ever go up to anyone, only to hear someone come up and stand next to you. Flicking your eyes over to see who it is and being graced with the sight of a big, burly, minotaur. His brown short furred body ripples with muscles still visible even through his shirt, shaggy hair slightly covering his eyes, white hat sitting on his head nuzzled between his big sharp horns. 

"Oh... oh he's fuckin' pretty" is all you can think as you stare unabashedly at the man. After a second he feels your gaze and turns slightly to face your direction, the both of you locking eyes. Blushing hard you quickly rip your gaze from him, mentally crying that you no longer get to drool over his Herculean body, a Greek tragedy indeed, but you're far too embarrassed at being caught to try again.

He huffs out a laugh though his cute cow snout at your reaction, the gold bull ring shining in the fairly dim lighting. 

"You must not be from 'roun here, haven't seen you before. Names Mason." He growls out softly, staring down at his drink, a smile on his lips. It takes you a second to understand what he said, your mind lagging like my old ass computer. Turning to him you give him your name then answer him, "I just moved here bout a week ago." You respond, downing your shot, hoping it'll give you some courage, but all it does is burn your throat. He takes a slow sip of his own drink, setting it down, and facing you, "Pretty name for a pretty girl." 

Turning around to lean your back against the wood, you tease him, laughing, "Bit generic." All while trying to ignore that, generic or not, it still made you feel a few butterflies. 

He chuckles, moving to stand in front of you, "Sorry, darlin', I don't get to flirt much with women." You raise your eyebrows slightly at that comment, clearly not believing he doesn't get attention. 

"Mhmmm'' You grin, rolling your eyes playfully. "What? M'bein' serious! I mean sure, they come up to me, but 'm rarely interested enough to actually hold a conversation." He defends, raising his hands and chuckling.  "Oh? Well lucky me, being deemed worthy of your presence," you tease. He nods, leaning over you to grab his drink and take a sip while looking down at you, jokingly humming in agreement.

The tension is thick in the air as you stare at him, lips slightly parted. Without taking the time to actually think about your next move, you raise yourself on your tiptoes, just managing to reach the brim of his hat and pull it off. Placing it on top of your own, you grin up at him. 

He takes a deep breath turning his head to the side and clicking his tongue quietly, just barely managing to contain himself at how damn good you look wearing his hat. 

"You done got me riled, sweetheart. You can't be waltzin' around wearin' a cowboy's hat like that. Gonna give folks the wrong idea."

"Mm, and why is that?"

"There's some old sayin about if you wear a cowboy's hat, you gotta go home wit' 'im. Means nothin' to me, but, everything gets exaggerated and rumors spread like a wildfire in a small town like this." He warns, but that only fuels you more, "What if I want that?" You purr in a low tone, grinning as you run the pad of your thumb on the brim of the hat.

"Fuckin' tease," He growls in response. "You really want that?"

"M'wearin' your hat, aren't I?"

He takes you by the hand, leading you outside to his truck. It's extremely stupid to get in the car with a stranger but you do it anyway, he's just too good to give up. You do send your friend a quick text explaining the situation and give her your location, so at least you weren't completely defenseless.

If anyone were to ask you what his house looks like you'd have no answer, the both of you were far too busy messily kissing to notice literally anything around you. Kicking the door shut and throwing you down on the bed, he starts to slowly undress you. All except the hat.

He spreads your thighs apart, squeezing them while kissing up and down the inner part, leaving little bite marks in his wake, teasing his tongue just around your cunt.

"Stop teasin'!" You whine, bucking your hips slightly, furrowing your brow and pouting. "Yes Ma'am," he lazily salutes, before burying his tongue deep inside your cunt, moaning into your pussy at how good you taste. The vibrations make your eyes roll back, your leg kicking slowly in pleasure. He keeps intense eye contact with you as he laps at your pussy, sloppily making out with your cunt. Flicking his tongue on your clit, he slowly pushes one of his thick fingers inside, beginning to stretch you out.

Three fingers deep, you cum all over his hands and face, your thighs shaking as you pull his hair harshly and scream his name. That only encourages him to go faster, sucking on your clit til you push his head away.

He gives you a cocky grin, licking his fingers clean and giving you one more kiss on your thigh. Tapping your ass twice, he pants, "C'mon, baby, wear the hat, ride the cowboy. Up." Still shaking slightly, you get on you knees, throwing your leg over his body to straddle him.

Groaning as you grind down on him, his fingers press into your skin, leaving little indents on your hips. You lift off of him for a moment to pop the tip in before slowly sinking down on his massive cock, whimpering at the stretch. Stopping half way to catch your breath, he rubs little circles on your skin to soothe you, "You're doin' such a damn good job, darlin', real proud of yah."

He continues to praise you as you begin to take the rest of him. Cautiously, you begin to ride his cock, moaning as he hits every single spot deep inside you. "M-mason! Fuck, so deep!" You rest both of your hands on his chest, using them to help you bounce up and down, whining each time his dick slams deeper into you, tears already beginning to form in the corners of your eyes.

He groans, throwing his head back and slapping your ass, moaning out more praise, loving to watch you keen at his words. After a while he notices your thighs trembling and starts helping you lift your hips. "G-gonna cum!" You choke out, he grabs your face, forcing you to look down into his eyes.

"Don't you dare look away." Mason growls, your body forces you to listen, trying your hardest not to let your eyes roll back as you clamp down on your cock, milking him for all he's worth. He holds your hips still as he rams up into you, filling you up with his hot cum.

You collapse onto the bed, the both of you sweaty and panting, Mason reaches over, hooking his arm over your waist and pulling you into his chest, putting his head atop your own.

You're never giving this man up.

[lafemmemacabre]

When I first started to see the very blatant signs that I might not be "fully straight" I thought my life was over.

Truly, I should've known I wasn't even into guys at all, but with all the indoctrination both religious and secular I was under, it's no wonder I just assumed I liked boys "too", but if realizing that I liked girls was scary and life-ending on itself, just the thought that I maybe ONLY liked girls and not guys at all was the most terrifying, suicide-worthy possibility to me.

I fainted for the first time the morning my mom told me she'd read the stuff I wrote venting about the looming terror of my own possible "bisexuality" and she was very clearly not happy about it or with me. Like, full on just everything went to black, my body went cold, pins and needles, paralyzed, and I lost consciousness for a few seconds.

I wish my almost 33 years old self could travel back in time and tell my 15 years old self that yes, not only are you not straight, you don't even like boys, and that while you're suffering a lot for it right now and want to kill yourself over it, your life will be amazing with time, and the lesbianism you're currently cursing and considering killing yourself over, is pretty much 95% of the reason you have anything good going on in your life now.

I wish I could tell my 15 years old self that through lesbianism they'd meet the love of their life, and that this beautiful butch lesbian, the real life incarnation of all the things society and their parents taught them to despise while subconsciously desiring it, would change their life around in ways they never imagined would be possible.

I don't know if my 15 years old self would've believed my time-traveling current-self about the incredible joy and fulfilling happiness lesbianism has given me. Knowing me, I might have trusted my older self's words but not felt the hope in my heart at the same time. I just still wish I could tell them.

It's heartwarming that now, for a lot of people, realizing that they're a lesbian is a moment of shocking joy and liberation, or even coveted mundane normalcy. It's great that what used to be a near death sentence for lots of us back in the mid 00s and earlier, for people younger than us, it's more and more common for it to be a positive discovery or just a neutral fact of life. But it's not always the case, even today, even in liberal urban centers.

To all the people coming to terms with their lesbianism less like receiving great or mundane news, and more like being told a loved one is terminally ill, please know lesbianism can end up being the greatest reason for your future joys.

I suffered so much back then. I legitimately, non-hyperbolically, thought my life was downright over. That I'd never be able to have a normal life, that my parents would forever despise me for who I was unless I lived the whole rest of my life in hiding, that everyone around me would look at me with utter repulsion at knowing who and what I was, and I myself was disgusted and ashamed of what I was starting to realize I might be. I wanted to die if I couldn't just be normal about one (1) thing for once; if I couldn't have a husband, if I couldn't find a way to feel emotionally and sexually fulfilled by a man like I was taught I should be, unless I was monstrously broken in some detestable way.

But I'm glad now. I'm glad to be who I am now, I'm glad that I couldn't find that emotional fulfilling ever with a man because if I could maybe I wouldn't have met and married my wife, and regardless of gender, I can't imagine spending the rest of my life with anyone other than them.

And maybe, some day, you'll be glad to be who you are too, like I am now.

Thank you, lesbianism. Sincerely and seriously, thank you so fucking much.

[astraystayyh]

A cat proposal

summary : minho is in love & wants to marry you

pairing : Lee Know x reader, pre-established relationship.

genre : FLUFF

warnings : mention of wanting to have kids together at the end.

the things i would do to have this man.... hope you enjoy reading!! feel free to leave your thoughts in the comments, it will be very appreciated!! <33

You were lying down on the couch, Minho sprawled on top of you. His head was on your chest, his nose nuzzling your stomach every now and then as if to remind you he was there. And you were playing with the locks of his hair lazily, drawing mindless circles on his back from time to time.

It had been exactly two weeks since Minho moved in with you. You hadn't really had the time to relax, just the both of you. His schedule was hectic and so was yours, as it was nearing the end of the year. You only saw each other when he came home late to you; bringing your body to his and peppering kisses on the soft curve of your shoulder.

But today, he managed to come home early, and so did you. Which led to an impromptu movie night together. Still, you couldn't really focus on the movie, the dialogue coming to you like mindless chatter. You had something to suggest to Minho, and you didn't really know how he would take it.

He must have noticed that you were looking up at the ceiling, since he blew a raspberry on your stomach, prompting startled giggles from you. He smirks, before placing a small kiss on your bare skin, "what's going on in that pretty little head of yours?"

"I have something to tell you, just think about it okay? You don't have to reply now."

"Okay, tell me about it," he turns the TV off, giving you his undivided attention. It made you flustered, how he always looked at you like you were the only person that mattered on this earth.

"Well... since you moved in. I thought... why not bring your cats here in the apartment, this way you could see them more often and we could take care of them together," you start off, your rhythm accelerating with each word.

"I mean, I know it will take time for them to get used to a new place, so we could do it gradually? They could stay over for a weekend until they feel comfortable here," you start to ramble. "And you could put their toys and playhouse in the washing machine room since it's nearly empty, and we'd take turns taking care of them and I don't mind feeding them and changing their litter box when you are on tour, and I'd bring them to your parent's house because they might miss them and-"

"Honey, breathe," he chuckles and you stop, gulping. You really forgot how to breathe during your little speech.

After that, it's silent. Minho doesn't say anything, placing his head back on your stomach. Your cheeks are turning a crimson red from embarrassment, you just made a fool out of yourself, didn't you?

Your frantic train of thought is interrupted when Minho picks up your hand and starts kissing your knuckles softly. He doesn't look at you as he places chaste kisses on each of your fingertips; as if his lips meeting your skin was worthy of all his attention.

The truth is, Minho couldn't talk right now. Not because he didn't want to, but because he was afraid if he ever spoke, he wouldn't be able to stop the flow of words yearning to come out.

There are one million words in Korean, yet none of them seemed fit to express his adoration for you. He racked his brain for the right combination of words, because 'I love you' didn't cut it anymore. What he felt was more than love, it was a heart wrenching feeling in the most beautiful way.

Minho knew you loved him too, but it was in moments like this that he was reminded that you actually love him. That you were as infatuated with him as he was with you. That you thought about him just like he thought about you.

Kissing your fingertips, one at a time, he couldn't help but remember a fact he once read; there are twenty three words for love alone in Arabic. Maybe he should learn them, maybe he should learn every expression of love that was ever invented, every love poem that was written throughout history. And then he'd recite them to you, one by one. Maybe then you'd understand how you make him feel.

But he couldn't bring himself to tell you all of this, so instead, he settled on a love language that the both of you understood- touch. As his lips met your knuckles, he hoped that you'd feel it all through his kisses. That you'd know how much love he holds for you.

He finally looks up at you, his eyes holding yours in an intimate gaze. It's a while before he speaks again. "I will marry you one day, you know that right?" he whispers softly, as if it's a secret meant for the two of you alone.

Your breath hitches in your throat at his words, he wanted a forever with you?

"You mean that?" you whisper back, voice hoarse from the emotions you were barely keeping at bay. 

"I do. Would you like that?" he asks in a small voice, as if there was a possibility you'd say no. You almost scoff at that thought; not in this life, not in the next one.

"Of course. I want to spend the rest of my life with you Min," you tell him sincerely, your eyes wide looking into his so he'd know how serious you are.

"I want... I want our cats here," he starts off, knocking the breath out of you, 'our'.

"And I want silly supermarket lists with you, that I wouldn't be able to read because your writing is shit," you both chuckle, his laugh reverberating through your entire body. You always felt it deep inside you when he laughed, as if it was a melody meant for you only to hear.

"And i want to brush my teeth with you. I want to come home and see you with the cats. I want to cook for you and I want to kiss you when I wake up and sleep," he whispers, head now buried into your chest as if he was embrassed to say those words out loud.

"And I want.. I want kids with you, I want a girl running around that looks just like you. And you'd both greet me at the door and I'd die a happy man."

Silent tears are falling out of your eyes right now, 'you'd be a good mother', he once told you. And now, he wanted you to be the mother of his kids. It felt like your heart was in his palm and that he was squeezing it with every word he said. But you didn't mind, you knew that Minho would never squeeze too far to break you. You were safe with him. 

"We’ll have that my love, I promise," you smile, placing a sweet kiss on his head. "But i want a boy that looks like you,"you playfully pout. 

"There could only be one me," he tsks, waving a hand in the air as if to dismiss your words. 

"This is your son we are talking about," you laugh, your hand threading through his hair once again. 

"Our son," he clarifies and you blush. "Yeah.. our", you repeat, a soft smile on your face and he finally looks up at you again. 

You bop his nose with your finger playfully and he grins at the action. "So… does this mean you want the cats to move in?"

"Of course silly. My favorite people in one place, I can't wait."

"Cats are not people," you tease, and he rolls his eyes at your words. 

"Details."

He then stands up, pulling you up with him. His hand gently cradles your jaw and his lips fall perfectly on top of yours; the kiss making stars swirl in front of your eyes. "I love you so much Min," you whisper in between kisses and he smiles, "I love you yn, so much more than you know."

"I know, you know, Lee Know," you joke and he pushes your face away with his finger, "Nevermind, I take my proposal back."

"No can do. You are stuck with me forever," you singsong, pulling him in for a tight hug. 

Forever with you, he really liked the sound of that. 

[billysgun]

sneaking

billy the kid x cowgirl!reader |on a cloudy morning, you and billy sneak behind the barn to steal kisses from each other|

It's been something you two have been doing for a while now, sneaking out of the cabin at the break of dawn and running behind the barn like kids

you sway softly, looking up at the cloudy sky as the gray swirls above you and you think back to last night.

the gang went for a drink and you and Billy were "too tired" to go, it was true, but you two ended up having a wonderful hot bath, holding each other while he kissed you softly

"mornin' beautiful"

you turned and saw the gunslinger, messy hair, and rushed button-up as he cupped your face and kissed you softly.

this has been your routine for months, a make-out session before breakfast to keep you both sane from the lack of touching in front of the group.

"I almost snuck into your room last night 'cuz I wanted to see you so badly" he admitted on your lips and you giggled softly, the gang arrived much earlier than expected and your time together was cut short

the reason you both sneak is for your safety mostly, if the old outlaws knew you were with one of the men here, you'd be as worthy to them as one of the lady of the nights. and that would be putting your life in danger.

"why didn't you?" you giggled and he kissed your nose

"Jesse barged in right when I was gettin' up...we have a big job today apparently" he shrugged, arms wrapping around your waist as he stared into your eyes. you hummed a response as your lips turned down slightly

"wish the mornin' lasted longer" you whispered and he chuckled softly

"we ain't gonna be ridin' forever, love...I'll get my name cleared and we will get married...get a little cabin and everything" his eyes were starey as he talked about your future plans, you giggled and nodded along

"that sounds perfect, Billy!" you grinned, about to open your mouth until you saw smoke escaping the chimney and you knew at least someone was awake

his eyes followed you and sighed, taking your hand to kiss it and you both began to walk

"I'll see you later, love" he mumbled before you went to the back door and he went to the front, you blew a kiss and walked in where you were just a single cowgirl, and him, a single cowboy.

an: i love you all so much thank you for all the support!! <33

[etfrin]

❝ꜱᴏᴜʟꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴄʀᴜꜱʜ❞ — chapter nineteen | coriolanus snow

「ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ:」 NSFW | implied murder, spit play (?¿), choking, Coriolanus Snow, mentions of Dr. Gaul, everyone is crazy here, implied stalking | lmk if I forgot anything

「ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ:」 young! Coriolanus Snow x fem! Reader

「ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ:」 they talk <33

「ᴀ/ɴ:」 remember to give me your feedback, reblog and comment your thoughts and my leg has cramps help-

Beta read by the lovely 💘 @nowitsmissing 🫶🏾

series masterlist | navigation

Coriolanus felt his air being taken away from him. He puts his hand around the wrist of yours but doesn't attempt to push you away. He knew he easily could, however, he rather liked being under you. He parts his lips to take in much-needed air. But you had other plans in your mind.

You grin, a bit feral, much like him, Coryo noticed. And you leaned in to spit in his open mouth. He groaned, his eyes closing, his hips bucking up to look for friction. He was slapped again for his actions.

“Stop that,” you said, breathless, your eyes wide with anger or lust, he couldn't be sure.

He lets out a chuckle. Fuck, he missed you.

His insane dove.

You choke him harder, making him gasp. He doesn't stop you. Coriolanus could see the bruises formed around your neck. Snow had no right to stop you. He lets you be.

“You and Sejanus had no right to blow me off like that. I disobeyed orders by contacting you and you never thought of sending one letter! ONE! And then you have the nerve to react like this around me.” You narrowed your eyes.

“Remember the girl you had kissed, Coryo?” You whispered, leaning in. His lips were an inch away from yours to meet. “Haven't seen her around now, have you?” You smirked and he knew. He knows the look in your eyes, it was the same he had when he first had blood on his hands.

“You're mine, you have seemed to forget that after a few measly months. You're pathetic, Coryo.”

You crossed a line saying that. Coriolanus tightens the grip he had on your hand and forces it away from his strength. You cry out from the pain. It was going to bruise, just like your neck. It didn't matter to him.

“I am pathetic,” he mused, “I sent letter after letter. I tried getting over you and I failed miserably.”

“Well, you shouldn't have!” You angrily spit out, “Nobody can ever compare to me.”

Coriolanus pushed you away from his lap. He ignored his cock, straining against his pants as he rolled his eyes. “You're too much.”

“I am perfect.”

“Then you should have tried harder to contact me! Do you know how it was? Not seeing you, not hearing your voice, unable to touch your skin! I have missed you. I was dying without you! And what were you doing? Playing science with crazy Gaul.”

“Gaul is the reason you're here and not dead! You messed with her games and I told you there would be consequences!”

“I had no choice,” he yelled out.

“Why not!?”

“Because I love you. I love you and you're mine. I had to win if I wanted a life with you. A proper life worthy of our standings. There was never a choice. Not when it comes to you.”

You let out a wounded noise. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, your legs around his waist. You had him trapped. He liked the embrace. He hugs you back.

“You're everything,” he admits shamefully.

“You're not forgiven,” you sound like you're crying, he could feel his shirt getting wet. “She was punished for tasting your lips. You will be punished for allowing that.”

“I love you too, Coryo, but you need your lesson.”

Coriolanus nods. Even if he doesn't want to. He knew he didn't have a choice. He will take whatever you give him. Whether it be pain or love. “Okay, dove,” he whispered.

Then he remembered about the night of the gala. The anger you had shared with him, the truth you confined in. “Tell me what you meant by rigging the assignment of tributes,” he said.

You were caught off guard. “Uh.. uhm… I might have cut a deal with the Dean to give us the tributes from the same districts. He was supposed to give us tributes from a better district. Instead, he decided to fucks us over, and we did the same by bettering the games he hated.”

He takes in the explanation and realizes one thing.

“You knew.”

He adds, shocked, “You knew we were soulmates.”

You nod, “Yes. Ever since we were kids. You ran away from me the moment you saw the number on my wrist. The next day your wrist was burnt in an accident. I am many things, Coriolanus, but I am not stupid.”

Coriolanus feels guilt and embarrassment fester in his heart. He was ashamed of his past self. “I am sorry,” he mumbled, unable to meet your eyes.

“You're forgiven.” You smile, soft and gentle.

You tilt his head up and press a kiss to his lips.

“Tell me about district thirteen,” he said, wanting to know if the rumors were true. Especially since you had mentioned it before.

You freeze and Coriolanus catches the panic in your eyes for a split second before you relax. You didn't bother lying to him, knowing that he would catch you.

“I can't. Capitol orders. Dr. Gauls' order.”

Coriolanus clenched his jaw but nodded.

“Is that why you are here?” He asked.

“I am here because of you, that was a means to an end.”

You said it so sincerely that Coriolanus felt his cheeks burn and painted in crimson red. “I didn't get your letters,” he said in a lower voice. “I thought you abandoned me.”

“I have done many things to have you, Coriolanus Snow. Leaving you isn't in my cards.” You admitted shamelessly, not caring that he can see your obsession with him. He thrived in it so there wasn't any problem.

“I sent one every week despite Dr. Gaul forbidding it.”

“Dr. Gaul,” he thought out loud, “She stopped those letters from reaching me and vice versa.”

You frown, and he thinks you'll defend the scientist until you nod. “Makes sense, that bitch is controlling and paranoid. But there's nothing I wrote in the letters that would get us in trouble.”

You raised an eyebrow in a silent question. Coriolanus answers, “I didn't either.”

You get off his lap and stand up. You wince, raising your (his) t-shirt to check the wound he has given you. CS. There was a smile on your face as you ran your thumb around the letters. “You're insane,” you mutter affectionately.

Snow shrugs in response. He had no argument to refute your fact. “It looks great on you,” he said instead, a bit of pride creeping in his voice.

You laugh in response, “I know.”

You pick up the pocket knife, checking the blade out. You go to Coriolanus and press the blade to his jaw. You don't cut the skin. You smirk, heat in your eyes as you say, “My initials will look great on you too. But not today.”

He felt disappointed.

“When then?” Coriolanus asked, his eyebrows furrowed.

“After your punishment is over,” you said, opening your suitcase to change into something that would hide the obvious bruises on your skin.

“I won't forgive you until I have you crying on your knees, Coriolanus,” you grin, “You have to realize that your actions have severe consequences.”

You walked out of the door, leaving him alone on the bed with a crazed mind and an overwhelmed body.

NEXT PART

[togegiri]

✎ᝰ ❛ THIS SWEETNESS IS JUST MADE FOR YOU ❜ — yuuta okkotsu. toge inumaki. megumi fushiguro. yuuji itadori.

౨ৎ⋆˚｡⋆ content. The many woe's of being inlove is valentines day, so what kind of sweet treat do they make for you?

₊˚⊹ ᰔ warnings. gender neutral reader. you/your and they/them pronouns is used. (name) will be used. petnames is used (my love - yuuta , darling - megumi , my sunflower - yuuji). tooth rottening fluff.

note. kind off early for valentines day but I wanted to write it anyways! happy early valentines day people <33

— THE PREPARED TYPE. 乙骨憂太 | okkotsu yuuta

[ "happy valentines day (name), here you go, usually girls give out the chocolates but I wanted to do the giving! I didn't want to buy just chocolates so I made chocolate chip cookies! I hope you love them my love.. y- you don't mind if I call you my love right?" ]

A gentleman to the boot. A week before valentines he has already been planning on what to get for you. He wanted to give you something meaningful that you'll love. Thus the idea of baking cookies came in.

A chocolate chip cookie to be exact. Although he doesn't know baking that much, he asked for his friends' help, pandas, toge, maki. Although when he asks for their help all he gets is “I don't know how to bake,” or “bonito flakes” in toge's language. 

Thus he opted to get baking lessons which was worth it because he learned how to bake cakes, and different types of desserts that he can surprise you for any occasion.

While in the baking lessons he was a little slow but the teacher didn't mind at all. He had to apologize a lot due to the small clumsy mistakes he does but nonetheless he was able to learn through his mistakes.

He gifts you the chocolate chip cookie with a white paper bag and light pink ribbons and laces. He tried his best to make the packaging look adorable which ended up to be cute and great! 

He also bought you some pink tulips. The day of the valentines day he was worried you wont like the cookies he baked or worse your allergic to something in the cookie. So he had to ask in advance if your allergic to anything before he gave it to you.

When he gave the cutely packaged cookies and the tulips he gave you an awkward smile. As you feel your body feel hot as he blushed a little seeing you take the cutely packaged gift and the pink tulips.

“Oh uh… umm since you said you dont have any allergies h- here! happy valentines,” he gives it to you as he awkwardly chuckles feeling pink dust forming in his cheek. Slowly you take the cutely packaged sweet treat, “I hope you love it how much I loved making it for you.”

“thank you yuuta,” you smiled, giving him a small peck in the kiss, making his eyes widen. His whole face covered with his blush, “your welcome my love,” he gave you a kiss back. Yuuta feels as if his mouth has been overfilled with the sweetness of the chocolates as he looks at you. He truly is a lovesick fool isn't he?

— THE AWKWARD TYPE. 狗巻棘 | inumaki toge 

[ “uhh… k- kelp… tuna tuna,” ] 

He's a hopeless romantic. Although quite awkward as I'd like to think when he's in love, he'll love hard to the point he feels nervous and shy around them. He had to take three shopping trips in three whole days because he feels as if the things he bought are not too worthy for you.

Unlike yuuta he just followed a youtube tutorial and winged it the day before valentine. It was a lot of trial and error. Yes he woke up panda just to force panda to try the first failure of his creation.

Panda thought he was poisoning him after eating all of his onigiri. Yes the cursed corpse puked it out after. Toge has to be up all night to make those chocolate soufflés for you. The ending was a messy kitchen, a panda who looks like he's about to enter heaven and see Jesus, and a perfectly done chocolate soufflés.

He wrapped it in a minimalistic way, a red wrapper and a pink ribbon on the chocolate soufflés and made a small cute note on it drawing a chibi of yourself and him holding hands. 

He hopes the chocolate soufflés were to your liking and the love letter reaches through your heart. He'll hide under his collar once you get the gifts he has given you. He wants to run away, kiss you, or give you a kiss then run away after! 

In short he doesn't know what to do and just short circuits but tries his best to stay where he is as you took his declaration of love.

As you take the valentines gift you smile at him seeing the love letter attached to the wrapped treats. He blushed a little trying to hide his face with his collar as you read the letter he wrote.

Dear (name),

I love you, I know I can say it aloud like anybody can. I do hope my actions can speak through the words I badly wanna say. I love you dearly. 

You smile at him, bringing him to a hug. The cursed speech user's eyes widen at this as he awkwardly hugs you back putting his head on your shoulder feeling his whole face hot and embarrassed. “I love you too toge!” He nodded his head as he hugged you tightly making you giggle hugging him back tightly. 

Words may not be said but actions are much louder to toge's love for you. 

— THE COOL HEADED TYPE. 伏黒恵 | fushiguro megumi 

[ “I hope this isn't much, I hope you aren't disappointed, I'm not much of a flower type of guy but I hope this love letter will suffice, happy valentines day d-.. ahem! darling..” ] 

He knows how to bake and is a perfect boyfriend at this point. Although he's quite stoic and a private person you loved him nonetheless. As for valentines day presents he already planned them in advance.

He personally doesn't like giving flowers but prefers to give you a love letter or love notes. He made some chocolate truffles for you but when gojo saw him baking he immediately annoyed megumi to let him join baking which he denied multiple times.

Gojo ended up eating some of the truffles as megumi forced him out of the kitchen. The way he decorated the packaging was a simplistic style. A cute pink wrapper with red ribbons decorating it. As he gave it to you, same with the cutely decorated letter scented with his favorite perfume.

Particularly he wasn't embarrassed more on the nervous side, afterall he value what your likes and dislikes and wants the best for you. 

“Tell me if you don't like it, I'm gonna remake the one you like, okay?” he says making you chuckle as you take the gifts he gave for you, “silly megumi, I'd eat it even if I'm allergic to it if it came from you,” 

The raven haired male chuckles, “stop being an idiot I would never let you eat something you're allergic too,” you grin as he gives you a small peck in the cheek as you hugged him close. 

— THE SUNSHINE TYPE. 虎杖悠仁 | itadori yuuji

[ “I got you tons of things, if I'm being truthful I almost forgot about it so I kinda panicked and bought lots of things! I hope you like what I get for you, my sunflower!” ] 

He almost forgot about it until nobara asked what he'll get for you. His eyes widened as he looked at nobara in panic as the brunette girl looked at him in defeat. He forced the girl to help him as nobara fighted for her life to not be in yuuji's shit. 

Ended up helping him in the end as they looked around a patissier shop where he ended up buying brownies for you. He also requested for the workers to wrap it in a super duper cute way! pink wrapper, red ribbons, with white frills, and cute heart designs on it.

He also bought you a cute hello kitty plushie, a bouquet rose and a letter. Yuuji Itadori is going all out for this because he felt guilty and almost forgot about it. He will say it to you too once he gives his presents to you. Apologizing, looking like a kicked puppy.

You chuckled as you let it go, making the boy grin and pepper you with kisses.

“I’m still sorry I almost forgot about it…” yuuji whined hugging you close nuzzling his head onto your shoulder making you chuckle, “it's fine, I still love you yuuji, I don't mind if you forgot about it,” the pink haired male pouts. “That's not good, if I forget any event I'm gonna be angry at myself for that because I want to shower you with all my love.”

“You already do those yuuji, everyday you shower me with your love,”

“that's true I still want you to know I love you with every anniversary, valentines day, birthday, christmas—”

“yeah, yeah, I got it yuuji,” 

He chuckles, hugging you closer, loving the warmth you two make.

“Good!” 

[churipu]

I LOVE HOW YOU WRITE GOJO !!! could i request him having a girlfriend that's really good in the kitchen? like both cooking AND baking !! i can imagine him getting a sugar rush (from her !!) because she tried recreating (and succeeded) his favorite kikufuku from scratch 🩷 and she's probably worrying all the time if the stuff that she makes is good because she just cooks and bakes "for fun" and not as a full time thing 🥹

SUGAR RUSH ! — GOJO SATORU + A GOOD COOK GIRLFRIEND

featuring. gojo satoru

warning. none :)

note. hii anon! <33 i absolutely love this, i can just imagine him being so happy about having a really good cook girlfriend. i hope this is to your liking, have a great day anon! and to you readers, have a big fat sloppy kiss mwah!

"baby, did you make this yourself?" gojo asks you, taking a bite out of the kikufuku mochi you made him this afternoon.

he had opened the freezer a few minutes prior to look for anything he can nibble on — and oolala he came across a tray of kikufuku he doesn't remember being there. but having a good cook of a girlfriend, he wasn't even surprised anymore, he's just very delighted to have his very own homemade kikufuku made by yours truly.

you nodded your head, "do you...like it? tell me how it tastes, i've been working on it for a while now so i'm not sure how it would taste."

"like it? i don't like it." gojo mutters out, eyeing you.

you didn't take things to the heart quickly, you've always believed that failing is a process of learning. so you chuckled, "don't worry about it, i'll try making another one for you. was it too sweet? or was the mochi skin weird on texture?"

gojo grins, "baby, i love it! you really should think about opening your own restaurant — i'll even fund it, no kidding." he tells you, taking another bite out of the kikufuku mochi.

opening a restaurant has been a long time dream. and gojo knew, but there are a few reasons to why it hasn't opened up till' now, you weren't confident with your own cooking. no matter how many times gojo told you about how good they are — you still think they aren't restaurant worthy yet.

"maybe next time? i don't think i have the time for it now," you were technically speaking half the truth.

you had a stable job that pays well (not as much as gojo who's a jujutsu sorcerer, but still enough) — you landed a job as a baker, so you all you needed to do was follow your boss' recipe and everything was settled.

"you can just resign and...focus on this one, hm?" gojo slithered his arms around your waist, pressing kisses on the side of your face— in a way on encouraging you, "i'll even help you, 'm sure it's going to be a great hit!"

you chuckled at his statement, "maybe in a few years, satoru?"

the male whines, burying his face into your neck. he'd never understood why you always tell him that, no matter how hard he tried to convince you about opening a restaurant, you'd decline saying that it wasn't time yet.

but gojo, he could see right through you like an open book. the problem wasn't it being "the wrong time", it was how you weren't confident with what you've made; despite him telling you thousands of time that what you made never fail to amaze him with your cooking.

you sometimes think he was saying that just to make you happy.

cooking for gojo has been a daily routine, he never asks for you to do it — you just liked cooking so much that you made it your job to always make sure he's full. knowing he has a sweet tooth, especially for kikufuku, you try your best to make them for him.

it was quite hard to nail the dessert on the first few times. but like everyone said: "practice makes perfect" and sure enough your hard work pays off, he does enjoy the kikufuku you took long to perfect. and your heart feels full.

"a few years? that's too long," he whines, "how about now?"

you laughed lightly, "you're cute. if you wanted to taste my cooking, i can just make it for you, y'know?" gojo laid his chin on top of your head and grumbled.

"i want the whole world to taste your cooking," he mutters out.

how sweet of him.

"aren't I your world?" you found yourself spouting out non-sense just to try to avoid the same topic yet again — gojo sensed so, and he didn't push on with it. if he finds you avoiding it, it just meant one thing; you didn't want to talk about it, it wasn't that hard to understand, really.

gojo nodded his head, "good point. you are my world," he laughs lightly, kissing the top of your head, nuzzling his nose into your hair.

if you could see his face right now, you'd be worried. gojo satoru, the strongest, had his brows furrowed and a frown on his face, he was worried about you. a lot. sometimes he just wants to cup your face, give you kisses and tell you that you're the best cook he has ever met, he was pretty damn sure he's heard you saying how you weren't a good cook because you do it as a hobby and not professionally — or along the lines of that.

"satoru, i'm trying to put these kikufuku in the freezer or they'll fall apart," you softly lets his arms go, "you can snack on these later if you're hungry. or maybe you could bring them to the kids too, i made quite a lot."

by kids you meant yuuji, nobara, and megumi. gojo being their teacher also meant you having a lot of meetings with the trio — and they have been nothing but sweet to you, sometimes you find yourself packing food for gojo to bring for them.

"good idea, i'll give it to them so they know how much of a good cook you are. yeah? maybe they'll help me convince you to open your very own restaurant," you laughed lightly, shaking your head at his idea.

gojo puckered his lips out, "if you don't want to open a restaurant then at least let me have one more kikufuku. last one, promise."

you shook your head, putting the tray of kikufuku inside the freezer, "you've had four! you'll get sick," gojo puts his hands on either side of your waist, carrying you to the side so he could make his way to the freezer, "hey!"

"the only thing i'll be getting is a sugar rush, angel."

"oh god, that's even worse than you getting sick," gojo turns his head to look at you, his cerulean eyes narrowed, "i am not taking care of you if you get sick, you hear me?"

gojo arched a brow, "you said that last time, and the only person who stayed by my side the whole entire time was you," he pinched your cheek gently with a large grin, "you'll take care of me, will ya'?"

knowing he was right you let out an exasperated sigh, "you're silly. don't eat more or i'll stop making them for you— i'm just afraid you'll get a sugar rush tonight. don't you remember the last time it happened?"

gojo scratches his nape with a nervous smile. a few weeks ago, you made a big strawberry swiss roll — and the male managed to chow down on it in a matter of hours. late at night, he was wide awake, babbling about how much he loves you and then proceeded to list everything that he loves about you from a to z.

it was quite sweet of him, but still: you needed sleep. as a result, you barely gotten any sleep at all and had to go to work exhausted; although gojo did apologize for his nightly sugar rush, and tried to make it up to you by "cooking" for you, which ended up disastrous as he had gotten distracted by a tv show in the middle of his cooking. no foods were served that night so you both had to get take out.

and you had to throw out your favorite non-stick pan because of that.

you appreciated his effort though (and this time he made it up to you by purchasing a pan set — which he told you was a token of his apology for ruining your favorite pan and for his sugar rush).

"hey, i was showing my love to you. and plus, you got a set of brand new pan because of my sugar rush," gojo defends himself with a smile, leaning onto the kitchen island.

"in an exchange for my exhaustion, i almost passed out at work," he gasps out dramatically.

"why wasn't i informed of that? oh my god, 'm a monster." he talked to himself, which you weren't even surprised of anymore, so you let out a soft chuckle.

"kidding. but no— i'd never like to see or hear your sugar rush anymore, i have work tomorrow. i'll be fine if it's the weekend," i poked his side, walking away.

gojo grabbed your arm, pulling you close, "what if you don't have work tomorrow?"

you arched a brow in confusion, "but i do."

he smiles ever so sweetly that it was starting to get suspicious, "oh, i know! i was just asking, y'know?"

"o...kay then?"

gojo, that slick motherfucker, called your boss and told her you were sick and wouldn't be able to come tomorrow. and so— began the restless night of his episode of sugar rush and just the tenth thousands of "i love you"s from him.

© CHURIPU 2023 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE !

[lmao-liz]

long distance video calls with soap

my first time writing anything and it’s smut ish. i’m usually a reader and recommender but god do I love this concept

cw: phone sex, mutual masterbation, vibrator use, voyeurism. (let me know if I missed anything)

you and johnny are in a new relationship. it’s your first relationship where the guys got an actual career. he’s someone important, he can’t tell you the details just that it’s demanding and can be dangerous at times.

you embrace the long distance phone calls and rare video chats. it’s worth it because when he’s home it's unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. you know he’s military or something along those lines, the time differences and crazy schedules make it obvious.

after a few months together he opens up. tells you about the team, his cap, gaz, and of course simon. how the long hours and being away all the time gets to the team, he’s pissed none of them ever talk about it.

him having someone to come home to, it changed his mindset, he feels bad for them. it’s empathy, a bit of pity. he’s having such a good time with you, it’s not new for him to want to share the things he loves with his teammates.

the team just got settled into bed, working for almost two days straight in some random country, everyone was out as soon as they hit their pillows, deployment’s running too long. it feels like an eternity since he’s seen you, felt you. he knows he has to keep external contact as low as possible, but the thought of seeing you. it’s his forbidden fruit.

he’s a catholic, in hindsight not a great one, he kills, does unspeakable things for his job. so what’s another tally? one that he knows he deserves, because he’s been working so hard, it would be worth it.

the video call only rings twice before you pick up.

5:33 am.

he should be sorry for waking you up, but he needs you. you answer in the darkness of your room face illuminated by your phone screen. the lights are off in the barracks but you can see him in his bunk, shirtless, an arm tucked behind his head.

he looks like the product of a wet dream. one of which you’ve had too many of to be relaxed seeing him like this. he asks you what you’re wearing, tells you he needs you. he’s desperate, working long hours, going through all kinds of shitty situations. he says he’ll return the favour once he’s home. you know he will, he always does.

you don’t resist when he asks you to lift your shirt. you know he’s been working so hard, it’s the least you could do. he tells you to grab the vibrator he got you just before he left. knows how sometimes you need it quick and strong, not afraid of you liking it more than him, he knows how desperate you get while he’s gone for long periods of time.

he’s whispering praise to you, you can see the movement of his arm behind the screen. the laptop propped up on his drool worthy abs. it’s quick, the vibrator hitting in just the right spot, johnnys not the only desperate one. you haven’t seen him in months.

johnny knows he should turn his volume down. the sounds of your pleasure are bouncing off the walls of the small barracks. he just can’t help himself, too focused on your contorted face, your sounds, the quiet hum of your vibrator.

it should be embarrassing how fast he comes, but seeing you, even through a screen, it's more than he’s had, his imagination can’t compare to seeing the real thing. his grunts and heavy breathing are enough to push you over the edge. you both writhe in pleasure, thousands of miles between you too, but it’s not enough to keep you apart. you’re even more tired, a good orgasm and seeing johnny, you know he can’t stay on the line longer, but you want nothing more than to actually get a chance to talk.

he tells you he’ll be home soon, make up for him being gone longer than he said he would be. he wishes you a good night saying he's got another busy day tomorrow. you blow him a kiss goodbye, making him promise to come home safe.

“alweys dae lass”

the call ends, you set the vibrator and your phone back on your nightstand, rolling over and drifting back into dreamland.

johnny sets the laptop to his side, wondering how he’s going to clean himself up without waking everyone up. just when he’s about to say fuck it and sacrifice his boxers, a box of tissues hits his shoulder. he catches it before it hits the ground and looks to the bunk across the small room, he can see the outline of the infamous skull mask staring back at him.

“didn't know you had such a pretty bird waiting for you back home johnny”

he swears he sees simon adjusting himself beneath his blankets. but it’s dark, he hasn’t slept in almost 40 hours. it’s just his mind playing tricks on him right?

is this actually good? I like it but it’s a word vomit of my thoughts so i’m insanely biased. do I continue writing or stick to recommendations…

[yandere-3-sagau]

Hello! New anon here, idk if you do anything like this but i had an interesting thought the other day!

So yknow how you can name scaramouche right of course

So i named mine,,,,genuinely? Like i went out and looked up names (what can i say im down bad okay) and I found the name ‘Ena’ which means ‘gift from god’ (according to what i found-) or something like ‘blessed life’

So what if in a secret creator!sagau, the reader names him that and he dismisses it at first but then catches the reader having a look (sort of like a sad smile) every time they refer to him as that, so he finally asks what it means and they say its because they see him as being worthy of living. That they see him as a blessing from ‘the creator’ and they want him to see himself that way- (like not in a ‘more important than anyone else’ way, just in a ‘you exist therefore you deserve to live’ kinda way)

Idk if you like this but feel free to ignore this if you’re uncomfortable! Tysm for your time!

hehehe do you know that wanderer is my favorite? Quite similarly to you, I took my time searching for a good name. I named him Aziz. It’s an Arabic name and I thought it was fitting since his new beginning began in Sumeru, a place based on the middle east. While Aziz means to be strong and powerful, it also means dear, darling, and precious. If SAGAU were to ever be real, I would want him to know that he is precious and loved. <33

since this ask is about secret creator!reader, i am going to assume that wanderer is still unaware of your identity when you mention the meaning of his name.

Yandere!Wanderer x Secret!Creator!Reader

--

The wanderer didn’t really care for names. He’s had so many throughout the years that he could care less how people addressed him. 

So when the traveler gave him his name, he didn’t really think much of it. After all, it was a name given to him by his former enemy. What special meaning could it have? The traveler never explained it and he never thought to ask.

He kept the name for convenience but rarely ever used it. Many still referred to him as wanderer and he didn’t bother to correct them. There were times he had even forgotten that he had a new name. 

The first time he actually ever cares about his name is the first time he hears it from you. 

The name rolls so casually off your tongue it’s as if you’ve said it a thousand times. The soothing sound of your voice saying the name that belonged solely  to him makes him feel so strange that he doesn’t even realize that he’s never told you his name before. 

Though it sounds foreign at first, he quickly grows accustomed to being called his new name. 

However, every time you call him that name, you have a certain look in your eyes that he couldn’t quite understand. You look at him as if he holds the world in his hands yet it’s accompanied by a sense of sadness. 

Unbeknownst to him, every time you say his name, you’re reminded of his past. You think about how while erasing his previous names, he intended to erase his entire existence along with it and it breaks your heart. 

Though he has trouble recognizing emotions, he can sense your sadness.

Finally, he caves into his curiosity and asks why you always have that look on your face. Why you look like you want to cry whenever that name is mentioned.

“... do you know what your name means?” 

You gaze at him with such soft eyes that he almost forgets to answer.

“No, why?”

“Your name means ‘gift from god’ and ‘blessed life.’”

It takes some time to process, but after finally realizing what the meaning of his name is, the wanderer grows a bit angry. 

Gift from god? Blessed life?

The traveler must be mocking him.

How can he be a gift from god when he was abandoned by his mother, the God of Eternity? and what part of his life is blessed when he’s committed countless sins and all he’s experienced is tragedy. 

Wanderer remains silent but he can feel your gaze on him. Those eyes that to seem to see right though him. 

—

Later on, he approaches the traveler. 

“Why did you name me __?’“

The traveler pauses, surprised by the sudden question. 

“I... don’t know, if I’m being honest.”

Wanderer scoffs. “How can you not know? Are you mocking me?”

“No, I really don’t know. Now that I think about it, it really is quite strange,” the traveler says as they recall the moment the wanderer was named. 

“At the time, the name just slipped from my mouth.” 

“It just slipped from your mouth? You don’t even know what it means?”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t. I’ve honestly never heard of the name before.”

Hearing this, the wanderer is a bit offended. It seems such little thought was put into his name. He thinks that maybe you were lying. He searched through many books in the Akademyia for the origin but he couldn’t find anything close to what you told him. 

The next time you call his name, he stops you. He tells you stop using it. Saddened, you ask him why.

“It’s a meaningless name and whatever you claimed it means doesn’t even suit me.”

“What do you mean? I...whoever named you must see you as a gift. Your life is a blessing to them.”

“The person that named me doesn’t even know the meaning.”

You grow quiet upon hearing this. You can’t refute him, unable to explain to him that you were the person to name him. 

You’re heartbroken that he thinks so little of himself. You want nothing more than to tell him that he really is a blessing. That he’s important to you and worthy of living. But you remain silent and he does as well. 

He stops going by that name and decides to go by wanderer instead. He’s confused by your eyes that well up with unshed tears when he asks you call him wanderer instead of the name you had given him. 

It isn’t until you are exposed that he understands.

You are the creator and it was you that bestowed the name upon him while you were living through the eyes of the traveler.

This revelation sparks so many questions. 

Why did you name him that? Do you really see him as a blessing? Does he really mean that much to you?

His heart is hopeful but more and more anxiety fills his being the longer his thinks about it. 

Are you upset that he stopped using his name? Do you think he isn’t proud of it?

He doesn’t know what he’d do if you decided to take it back. But even if you tried, he wouldn’t let you. Suddenly, it’s apart of who he is now - the basis of his identity. Anyone who calls him wanderer now is immediately corrected.

He wants to confront you but he hasn’t seen you since your identity was exposed. You’ve disappeared without a trace, leaving his heart empty.

Nothing but your voice can sooth his aching heart and he can’t rest until finds you.

Until he hears you call his name once more, now that he’s finally able to appreciate it’s meaning. 

[fourmoony]

Hi! I don’t know if you’re taking requests right now but your writing is so beautiful and genuinely so captivating!

I was hoping for a possible angst / fluff kinda fic! With Remus x reader

Starting off how the two met in school and how they became friends so fast + the rest of the group…going onto how the two began dating in their 3-4th year at school…onto when they left school into a proposal and marriage.

Then when the war begins again is when the angst slips in..maybe how Remus finds reader under some rocks or even them protecting Remus..for them both to be together at the end with their hands holding and it’s all angsty!

If this isn’t your cup of tea that totally okay! <33

Hi lovely!! Thank you so much for requesting!!

this is heavy on the angst, little on the fluff, hope that's okay!!

remus lupin x reader | masterlist - 1.9k words

from the vaults, since writing gives me the heebies rn

cw - death

Remus remembers the day he met you; your pristine, fresh pressed Hogwarts robes, and your swotty attitude, charging down the Express like a tyrant, wielding confidence he sorely lacked. You'd been on the hunt for whoever set off the stink bomb just outside the carriage you were in (it was James, showing off to Sirius, their friendship quickly and surely bonded together with the residual smoke of that foul little rock). Remus remembers you, often, that way. Always ready to take responsibility - or force it onto others, for their actions - and do what you believed to be right.

He knew in that exact moment, with the soundtrack of James and Sirius' hysterical laughter, the smell of pure, unbridled dung lingering in the air, that you were the bravest person he'd ever known, that when the sorting hat was sat atop your head mere hours later, there'd be no pause, no debate, you were Gryffindor through and through.

The only thing Remus hadn't accounted for, was that he, too would be placed in Gryffindor - with his nauseous stomach, shaking hands, and scars that made him feel small, rodent like, a glint of gold in the window that catches the eye long enough to peak interest, but amounts to nothing worthy of attention; rather, disgust.

Remus still sees a lot of that up-tight, bossy attitude in you, now. But more than anything, your bravery prevails. The war has taken a lot from you, from everyone he holds dearest. The first time, it was hard. Bearable, because James and Lily were alive, because Sirius wasn't locked up and losing his mind in Azkaban. There was hope, because they had Harry, and nothing was going to happen to any of them because everyone had to live to see Harry grow up.

Fools. The lot of them had been fools, he realises. This time, it's different, harder. There are no friends, no family left. It's you, and it's Remus. It breaks Remus' old, cobwebbed heart to see everything that has been taken from you both. The innocence, the joy. All that's left of you, these days, is bravery. Bravery that shines so bright, like a leading light, bravery that holds him together on the bad days, bravery that pulls sad, scared Remus out of his cocoon of dread and fear, forces him into the light. You've always been good at that - at love, at protecting the people whom you love.

It's what you do. They hadn't known it at the time - and really, how could they have? - but James and Sirius set off a stink bomb outside the carriage of a young muggle-born girl, terrified of her new school, her future, what this change would do to her. The stink bomb went off and Mary MacDonald had dissolved into hysterical tears. From the moment you came into Remus' life, you've been a protector. Your heart is your leading light, your entire being, a soul so pure it'd make angels weep.

He shouldn't be surprised. Really. The minute it the south wall of the castle blows up, Remus should know the lengths you'll go to. The things you will do to make sure the people you love are safe.

There's dust and rubble everywhere, clouding his vision, choking him until he can't breathe, and in the minute before the wall crumbles around you, your body taking ninety percent of the blast, hands fast in pushing Remus so hard he has no choice but to stumble back, away, in a daze, he sees your eyes. They're calm. So calm it's unnerving. He knows everything that people will say you never got the chance to tell him. He's known since he was sixteen everything you feel for him, the love, the gratitude, the admiration.

You've had a life together. Not all of it has been good - war and death, losses and pain so unimaginable Remus wonders how either of you ever got through it. But the quiet moments, the happy moments, not marred by battle, or grave stones, weeping, or bone crushing sorrow. The moments where all that mattered was both of you, the love, the happiness; the joy Remus felt with you is nothing he ever thought he'd get to experience, would ever deserve.

He knows. He knows you love him, he knows you're okay with the choice you've just made. But he's surprised.

In all the years you've spent together - all the funerals you've attended together, planned together - he always thought that when the time came, you'd both go together. Asleep, old and decrepit. Something peaceful, after the life you'd shared.

But the blood is still thrumming in his veins, the cogs in his brains till whirring as he stares at the pile of rubble that's fallen around you. He thinks, rather foolishly, and only for a second, that you may have survived. He thinks your sheer will and determination could still be pulsing in your heart, the bravery you wear so honestly wrapped around you like a coat of armour. But the bond that ties you to him, the mating bond, the marriage bond - Remus has never known which is which, it's all an overwhelming amount of love, to him - pulls taught. It snaps, like wisps of smoke between you, and Remus breaks with it.

He breaks so fast and so hard that the world crumbles around him and he loses track of where he is, what he's fighting for. It comes out of nowhere, a flash of light, of bright green light and Remus is grateful to be spared of the agony, because it's barely been two minutes and he had already felt like he was dying, anyway. The pain is nothing, in comparison to losing you, to live in a world without your laugh, your smile, your hard-headed attitude. He couldn't have done it, and so he feels peace as he crumples to a heap on the ground.

Maybe a silly part of him thought that you'd be waiting at the other end. In a way, you are. But, also, you're not. Because he's watching you as you charge down the Astronomy Tower stairs, the fourteen-year-old version of himself hot on your heels. He remembers this like it was yesterday. He'd kept his secret from you so well until that year, when the growth spurt started and the wolf got bigger and the scars ran deeper, in more noticeable places. The one that ran across his face.

You'd been horrified, he remembers. The look of unbridled fury as you demanded to know who on earth had done such a thing. You were never horrified of him. No. Just the mere idea that someone had hurt him, and it made Remus feel loved, protected. You made him feel loved and protected.

He watches as you reach the bottom of the steps, twirling to face him with your signature unimpressed scowl. He feels fondness like a ball of sunlight in his chest, mouthing the words 'you're a dirty liar, Remus Lupin!' along with you, the sound of your posh swotty accent ringing in his ears.

He'd went back to his dorm that night and made the decision to tell you, came up with a plan, the easiest way to break it to you. You arrived at his door two hours later, half way through his idea list, and told him you'd figured it out. He knew then that he loved you. For all you were bossy and uptight, he loved you, your impatience, your brain, your heart. Remus was in love.

You fade from his view and Remus steps forwards as though he might be able to grab you, keep you there. But the sound of your voice ringing out turns him on the spot, and you're by the black lake, picking daisies with Sirius to make daisy chains. The memories come flooding through, reliving his life through the good moments and the bad. He watches you both fight, cry, makeup. Getting together was a long, painful process, too many miscommunications, missed opportunities. You never did nail down how to express any feelings other than anger and frustration.

But the moment he had you, Remus never let go.

He watches the memories flash by, remembers every one with a heart so full it could burst. A beautiful life, is what he had. Painful, marred by coldness and death and a beast in his heart that he could never tame. But it was beautiful, and it was full of laughter and love, and joy because he had you.

There's your first kiss, heated and mid argument - because back then, Remus had to rile you up enough to snap just to get a lick of emotion from you. You were brave in many ways. Emotions were not one of them. All the milestones are there, flitting past faster than Remus would like. The end of O.W.L. exams, the party that followed, the frantic, unpracticed hands that flitted over each other's bodies in a secluded hallway that night. Summers at the Potter Estate, lounging in the meadows by the cool stream, fires and empty cans of cider, laughing until his bones hurt and his eyes shone with tears.

Your first flat, old and dingy, but you'd danced that first night in the kitchen for so long that the broken heater didn't matter. You'd made it a home.

The day Remus proposed, terrified out of his bloody mind, shaking so hard he dropped the ring box and you'd yelped as the silver banded ring went flying. He saved for years for that ring. You'd said yes, tears of joy and love and elation at spending the rest of your life with him, and spent the next hour looking for the ring in the grass with the help of Padfoot.

You walking down the aisle, a vision of pure beauty, that signature smile you reserved only for Remus, who was waiting at the end wondering what on earth he ever did to deserve you.

Snippets of a life well-spent fly past in a hurry, the blink of an eye, and Remus begins to feel melancholy. The rest of eternity as a conscious soul, reliving all of his best memories, but missing you still. He wonders if you feel the same, if you're watching the best parts of your life fly by, wishing there was more time, more words, more everything.

"We wasted so much time forgetting what life was like, then." Your voice is soft, wistful.

Remus turns and you're there, lips pressed in a thin line, looking very much like you're ready to scald him for following you this far. But Remus Lupin decided a long time ago that he'd follow you to the ends of the earth, so what is death, to that?

"I never forgot. It just got hard to get back to that, I suppose." He wants to reach out and touch you, see if you're real, or a figment of his imagination.

You hum in pensive agreement, "I was always happy with you. You know that, don't you."

How could he ever doubt it? "Down to my soul."

That smile. That mischievous, knowing, loving smile that Remus knows like the skin and bone of his body. Your hand extends to him, as real as the day he took yours in his, and promised to love you until death parted you both. Your chin jerks to the white plane ahead, Remus has no idea how far it stretches or where it goes, but he follows you, anyway, hand in yours.

"Everyone's waiting for us." You tell him.

So, Remus follows you home.

[deerlino]

Hey!

I don't know if you write things like that,but could you maybe write a member x fem reader oneshot/drabble inspired by the song afraid by the neighbourhood? Like make it angstyyyy,jst like the song.Been feeling like this song lately.I know you write incredibly good,and i trust you with thatttt.

Ofc it's totally okay if you don't want to write this <33

I hope you have a great day and never forget to drink water and take care of yourself!❤️❤️

i’m still afraid ( lmh. )

lee minho | fem!reader

“i wake up, i’m afraid somebody else might take my place.”

synopsis. you and minho confront his deep-seated doubts and fears, grappling with the complexities of love and acceptance in your relationship. (857 words)

content. angst, based on the song “afraid” by the neighborhood, established relationship, anxiety, self-worth issues, relationship struggles, communication issues, insecurities, hurt/comfort, ambiguous ending (?)

warnings. physical violence (minho slams his fist into a wall once), emotional distress (self-doubt, anxiety, and feelings of worthlessness), verbal conflict (heated arguments and shouting between characters), depression, anxiety and fear

authors notes. long time no chat! sorry for disappearing—i've been on vacation in italy, so writing took a backseat. >_< but i managed to squeeze in this request on the bus. hope you enjoy it, anon! <3 i tried to stick to the song as much as possible, but i did go off track a bit while writing—hope that's okay. T_T love serving up some delicious angst for you guys, haha. enjoy! (ps: thanks for the sweet words, anon. really appreciate it, my love!) <3 <3

The room feels suffocatingly small as you and Minho stand on opposite sides, the silence between you filled with the echoes of your harsh words. It’s another night where his self-doubt and anxiety have spiraled into a fight that neither of you can control.

“Why do you always have to push me away?” you shout, frustration boiling over. “Why can’t you see that I’m here because I love you?!”

Minho’s eyes are wild with emotion, his voice trembling as he retorts, “You don’t get it! You never will! I’m nothing but a burden to you.”

“Stop saying that!” you scream, tears streaming down your face. “You’re not a burden. You’re everything to me, but you keep trying to convince me otherwise.”

He turns away, his shoulders shaking. “Maybe you should listen to me for once. Maybe you’d be better off without me.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut, and you struggle to breathe. “Do you really want me to leave? Is that what you want?”

He slams his fist into the wall, leaving a dent. “No! But I can’t stand the thought of you wasting your time on someone like me.”

You step closer, your voice softer now but no less intense. “Minho, look at me. Please.”

He reluctantly turns, his eyes red-rimmed and filled with despair. “Why can’t you see it? I’m broken. I’m scared all the time that you’ll see what a mess I am and leave.”

You reach out, your hand trembling, and cup his face. “I’m not going anywhere. I love you, even when you’re a mess. Especially when you’re a mess.”

He pulls away, his voice breaking. “But why? Why would you stay? Everyone else left when they saw the real me.”

Your heart breaks at his words, the raw pain in his voice cutting deep. “Because I’m not them. I’m not going to leave you just because things get tough. I want to be here for you, Minho. I want to help you.”

He laughs bitterly, wiping at his tears with the back of his hand. “You can’t fix me. No one can.”

“I’m not trying to fix you,” you whisper, stepping closer again. “I just want to love you. Is that so hard to accept?”

He looks at you, his expression a mixture of anger and sorrow. “Yes, it is. Because I don’t feel worthy of your love.”

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your voice. “But you are. You’re worth everything to me.”

He collapses onto the bed, burying his face in his hands. “I wish I could believe that.”

You sit beside him, placing a hand on his back. “We can work through this together. We can find a way.”

He looks up at you, his eyes filled with hopelessness. “What if we can’t? What if I drag you down with me?”

“Then we’ll figure it out,” you say firmly. “But I’m not giving up on you, Minho. Not now, not ever.”

- - -

One night, you find him sitting on the balcony, staring out into the darkness. You join him, the cool night air doing little to soothe the tension between you.

“What are you thinking about?” you ask softly.

He doesn’t look at you, his voice barely above a whisper. “How easy it would be for you to leave.”

You feel a pang of hurt but try to keep your voice calm. “I’m not going anywhere. I’ve told you that.”

He finally turns to you, his eyes filled with unshed tears. “But what if one day you wake up and realize I’m not worth it? That all this pain and struggle isn’t worth it?”

You take his hand, squeezing it tightly. “Minho, I won’t lie to you. It’s hard sometimes. But I love you, and that makes it worth it. We’ll get through this.”

He shakes his head, pulling his hand away. “I don’t deserve you.”

“You do,” you insist, your voice breaking. “You deserve to be loved and cared for. You deserve happiness.”

He stands up abruptly, pacing back and forth. “No, I don’t. I’m a mess. I’m scared all the time. I push you away because I can’t stand the thought of you realizing I’m not worth it and leaving.”

You stand up too, blocking his path. “Minho, stop. Just stop. You’re not alone in this. I’m here, and I want to be here. Please, let me help you.”

He looks at you, his eyes filled with anguish. “How? How can you help me when I can’t even help myself?”

“We can get through this together,” you say desperately. “We can find help, talk to someone. We can do whatever it takes, but you have to let me in.”

He collapses back onto the chair, his head in his hands. “I’m so scared,” he whispers.

You kneel beside him, wrapping your arms around him. “I know. But you don’t have to be scared alone. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

It won’t be easy, but with love and patience, you know you can help Minho heal. And maybe, just maybe, one day he’ll believe that he’s worth it too.

© deerlino (est. 130724) ༯ heyo, did you enjoy this piece? if you did, maybe you could reblog, drop a comment, or shoot me an ask to let me know your thoughts. also, feel free to check out my other stuff! thanks a bunch for the support! <3

[blingblong55]

Nothing- König

Based on a request:

Hey kasper!! >__< i hope this request finds you in good health, i'm that anon who asked earlier if your reqs are open and dont worry! Im willing to wait <33 just take your time and no rush.. Anyways- May I request a fluff fic on konig (or ghost) where they come home from a very long mission to see that their darling is baking something delicious? (Can be any pastry dish you want WAAHH) Maybe a pastry chef reader and shes on her day off and used the time to bake something! The house smelled definitely like heaven and I bet that Konig (or ghost 😭) was immediately the taste tester for the day!! TEEEHEEEE >3< jus some domestic fluff cause i've been reading way too much angst lately BAAAHHHHAHSHAHAH -🍰 anon :3 ---- F!Reader, fluff, domestic, established!relationship, baker!reader ----

A/N: If you came for the Ghost version of this, click here

It was a tough mission. His body was sore, and scars and bruises adorned him. "Home," he whispers once his body is near to giving up. Home is you, he thinks. His pretty darling is home and all he can do is drive faster. How much can a man last when he isn't in the arms of their lover?

Once he steps wearily through the threshold of his home, his boots fall heavy by the entrance. The weight of the mission on his shoulders but as soon as he caught the aroma wafting through the air, his fatigue seemed to dissipate. A soft smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he followed the scent. The mask he dreads to wear home is tossed to the side.

There you are, his pretty girl, standing amidst a flurry of flour a sugar. You didn't notice him as you stook your tongue out and tried to clean the corners of the spoon. Flour from the past minutes is still on your blouse and cheek.

He clears his throat, your eyes light up with delight when you notice him. As you rushed to his side, he felt himself grow those everloving butterflies. "Welcome home," you whisper, your voice soothes his weary soul.

König returns the embrace, savouring the familiar scent of your hair. "It's good to be home, Liebling," he murmurs, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead.

Home.

What a funny word, no? At least to him, it is. If you would've told him years ago he'd be calling you his wife or that he'd even have a person to go to, he'd laugh at your nonsense. A man like him isn't worthy of a home–

"I missed you Bär," you say as you cup his face. It's beautiful really, how he lets you love him this much. It's poetic how good he feels when he sees you even more when you hold him like this. Are you truly an angel?

As you both pull away, he can't help but admire the sight before him. Flour dust on that pretty face of yours and your hair pulled back into that clipped messy bun, yet you are still the most beautiful sight he has ever seen. The warmth of your smile is chased by shadows that linger in his mind, and he feels a surge of gratitude for your presence in his life.

I mean look at you, what good must he have done to have you here?

"What are you baking?" he asked, his curiosity piqued. Your eyes sparkle with mischief as you gesture to the countertop. "I'm experimenting with a new recipe. Chocolate chip cookies."

König's stomach rumbled in anticipation, and he couldn't resist stealing a taste of the dough. You laugh at his eagerness, swatting his hand away. "Patience, Bär," you smile. "They'll be ready soon enough."

Maybe all is well and he doesn't have to run or hide. He can just be here, with you.

As you two wait for the cookies to bake, he finds himself drawn to your side, appreciating the simple pleasure of being in your company. You two exchange stories of your week. Laugh and playful pushes followed along.

What if this is what he is meant for? Maybe life isn't so bad for a man like him. Not with you, at least.

Finally, the timer dinged, signalling the cookies were done. As you pull the tray out of the oven, he finds himself dreaming of more. Maybe next time around, when all is peaceful, there will be a kid, maybe two eagerly waiting for a taste of a new family recipe.

"These are incredible," König declares as he takes another bite and savours the sweetness with his tongue.

You beam with pride, your cheeks flush with pleasure from this compliment. "I'm glad you think so. There's plenty more where that came from," your voice softer now.

As you two indulge in this impromptu midnight snack, König can't shake the feeling of contentment that settles over him. In this moment, surrounded by warmth and love, he knows that there is nowhere else in the world he rather be.

And as he and you lean on the counters, he realises that sometimes, the greatest adventures were found not in the battlefield, but in the quiet moments of domestic blissed with the one he holds dear.

F!Reader, fluff, domestic, established!relationship, baker!reader

It was a tough mission. His body was sore, and scars and bruises adorned him. "Home," he whispers once his body is near to giving up. Home is you, he thinks. His pretty darling is home and all he can do is drive faster. How much can a man last when he isn't in the arms of their lover?

Once he steps wearily through the threshold of his home, his boots fall heavy by the entrance. The weight of the mission on his shoulders but as soon as he caught the aroma wafting through the air, his fatigue seemed to dissipate. A soft smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he followed the scent. The mask he dreads to wear home is tossed to the side.

There you are, his pretty girl, standing amidst a flurry of flour a sugar. You didn't notice him as you stook your tongue out and tried to clean the corners of the spoon. Flour from the past minutes is still on your blouse and cheek.

He clears his throat, your eyes light up with delight when you notice him. As you rushed to his side, he felt himself grow those everloving butterflies. "Welcome home," you whisper, your voice soothes his weary soul.

König returns the embrace, savouring the familiar scent of your hair. "It's good to be home, Liebling," he murmurs, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead.

Home.

What a funny word, no? At least to him, it is. If you would've told him years ago he'd be calling you his wife or that he'd even have a person to go to, he'd laugh at your nonsense. A man like him isn't worthy of a home–

"I missed you Bär," you say as you cup his face. It's beautiful really, how he lets you love him this much. It's poetic how good he feels when he sees you even more when you hold him like this. Are you truly an angel?

As you both pull away, he can't help but admire the sight before him. Flour dust on that pretty face of yours and your hair pulled back into that clipped messy bun, yet you are still the most beautiful sight he has ever seen. The warmth of your smile is chased by shadows that linger in his mind, and he feels a surge of gratitude for your presence in his life.

I mean look at you, what good must he have done to have you here?

"What are you baking?" he asked, his curiosity piqued. Your eyes sparkle with mischief as you gesture to the countertop. "I'm experimenting with a new recipe. Chocolate chip cookies."

König's stomach rumbled in anticipation, and he couldn't resist stealing a taste of the dough. You laugh at his eagerness, swatting his hand away. "Patience, Bär," you smile. "They'll be ready soon enough."

Maybe all is well and he doesn't have to run or hide. He can just be here, with you.

As you two wait for the cookies to bake, he finds himself drawn to your side, appreciating the simple pleasure of being in your company. You two exchange stories of your week. Laugh and playful pushes followed along.

What if this is what he is meant for? Maybe life isn't so bad for a man like him. Not with you, at least.

Finally, the timer dinged, signalling the cookies were done. As you pull the tray out of the oven, he finds himself dreaming of more. Maybe next time around, when all is peaceful, there will be a kid, maybe two eagerly waiting for a taste of a new family recipe.

"These are incredible," König declares as he takes another bite and savours the sweetness with his tongue.

You beam with pride, your cheeks flush with pleasure from this compliment. "I'm glad you think so. There's plenty more where that came from," your voice softer now.

As you two indulge in this impromptu midnight snack, König can't shake the feeling of contentment that settles over him. In this moment, surrounded by warmth and love, he knows that there is nowhere else in the world he rather be.

And as he and you lean on the counters, he realises that sometimes, the greatest adventures were found not in the battlefield, but in the quiet moments of domestic blissed with the one he holds dear.

A/N: I want to hold him.....

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