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saturdaynightspecialpresentation · 4 months

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Poor Things

First of all, Emma Stone’s performance is as good as everybody is saying. Stone takes a very difficult role that easily could have gone very, very wrong and makes it look like the most effortless thing in the world.

I have been looking at the reviews, good and bad, and I think that the minority of people who didn’t vibe with this movie had slightly skewed expectations.

Poor Things starts out at Tetsuo The Iron Man levels of fucked up, but by the end it has dropped to Edward Scissor hands levels of fucked up. This is probably plenty of weirdness for the average movie-goer, but true connoisseurs of mondo cinema should calibrate their expectations.

Second, apparently this is being talked up as a sort of feminist coming of age fable chronicling an everywoman’s sexual awakening and liberation, and it really isn’t that, and I think if you are hoping for that you’ll come away disappointed.

Better, I think, to look at it as an autistic coming of age fable and power fantasy, which I think it does a tremendous job at.

Very minor spoilers under the cut; really, this is more an essay about what I thought the film was about than a review, my review would be that it's somehow simultaneously a feel-good crowd-pleaser AND a movie where an adult woman with the brain of a toddler stabs the eyes out of a corpse with a scalpel and then plays with its penis (I wasn't kidding with the Tetsuo comparison)

Honestly now that I've actually written that out I have maybe underestimated how impressive it is that Yorgos Lanthimos made a movie where that happens on screen but somehow basically everybody loves the movie.

In terms of sex, we do watch Bella discover sex, but she very quickly comes to a conclusion about her relationship with it which never once changes throughout the rest of the movie:

She likes it, she likes it more with an attractive partner, she is utterly lacking in any kind of sexual jealousy, and she doesn't attach too much more to it than that.

This is an odd comparison, but Bella treats sex the way Joey did on Friends. A man acting this way is a sitcom cliche, but a woman acting the same way…

This is a film that is really, really not interested in the real-world consequences of this kind of sex; in fact, given that a pregnancy is the inciting incident of the film, it came off a little weird to me that the possibility of a pregnancy or STD was never really addressed (unless there was a line or two that I missed while I was in the bathroom).

For the most part, though, I was able to get past it by just thinking of it as a heightened world. The sets and settings are extremely artificial, and ultimately I figured, “Hey, if I can buy this kind of thing as harmless and fun in a sitcom, I can buy it in this other kind of heightened reality.

I will say, I don't think Bella is meant to be an every-woman, and that there's textual support for this in the film itself.

All of the women Bella deals with in some way question her approach to sex, making it clear, sometimes through explicit dialog, other times more reading between the lines, that her approach to sex is not for them.

If there’s any particularly feminist message in the film, it’s that when confronted with Bella’s bizarre approach to the world, none of the women get angry at her, and most of the men she meets do.

But Bella’s relationships with other women aren’t really the meat of the film, that’s more about her relationship with men, and particularly the way that they feel, deep in their bones, that they should have control over any woman that they have sex with.

Duncan Wedderburn, when he first discovers Bella and convinces her to go away with him, thinks he is tricking and seducing a beautiful naif who he can use and then discard when he tires of her. Their relationship disintegrates as it becomes clear that Bella hasn’t been tricked at all; she wanted exactly what he was able to give, a chance to sow her wild oats by having some no strings attached sex with an attractive, likable person in an exciting foreign city.

This makes Wedderburn increasingly unhappy and unhinged (He says at one point that he has become what he hates, a “grasping succubus”) much to Bella’s growing consternation. She has no idea why he can’t simply be happy having sex with her and otherwise letting her do what she wants, and he is so committed to a certain vision of gender roles that he can’t even begin to explain it, he can only lash out in frustration.

And that I think is the meatier part of the film; Bella doesn’t so much flout social expectations as she is simply totally unaware that they exist.

Honestly I think the character isn’t so much coded as autistic as she just is autistic. Bella is a woman who is basically totally unaware of social expectations and constantly taken aback to discover that they exist.

More than that, she has to figure out a way to work around the fact that many of the people who become most enraged by her are also so totally lacking in self-reflection, and view their social situation as so normal, so self-evidently obvious that they cannot explain to her why it is she has made them angry. They suddenly fly into rages that clearly perplex Bella and which they themselves don’t even bother to explain, because they regard their own ideas as self-evident.

Bella is an idealized autistic hero; personally as outlandish as she is I don’t really think the film expects us to take the side of anybody else, and I think there are some fairly subtle and accurate bits of autistic behavior on her part.

She responds to life as a kind of social experiment, attempting to parse out a set of logical rules and, especially in the latter parts of the movie, she often justifies her actions with a perfectly sensible internal logic that the emotional men in her life can’t parse out. Late in the film, when she and Wedderburn are destitute, she prostitutes herself for 30 francs, and with implacable logic, explains the two reasons that Wedderburn ought to be quite happy she has done so: First, her john was much worse at sex than Wedderburn, which ought to satisfy his ego, and second, they now have 30 francs and the potential to earn more.

Wedderburn does not appreciate her logical approach.

Another thing that strikes me as very true is that Bella has a very odd theory of mind for other people. There’s a scene where, traumatized by the unspeakable poverty and suffering she sees in Alexandria, she puts all of Wedderburn’s money in a box and rushes out to give it to the poor. Unfortunately the ship is leaving, but two port attendants tell her that they will be staying on the island, and would be happy to deliver a package. She tells them that she has a big box filled with money and they should give it to the island’s poor, and they agree to do so. Now, the film never tells us one way or another whether they keep their word; but Bella herself retains an iron certainty that they did exactly what she asked them to. Now, we know Bella understands what lying and deceit are, because we’ve seen her trick people before, like when she chloroforms McCandles to run away with Wedderburn. But it never once occurs to her that these sailors might do something similar. Call it paradoxical, but that kind of thinking is common in autistic people.

There’s also the scene where the self-professed cynic Harry Astley shows her the suffering in Alexandria; he admits, when he sees how terribly it has affected her, that he didn’t tell her simply because he thought it was the truth of the world, but that her attitude made him angry, and he wanted to hurt her. A very common part of the autistic coming of age is the slow realization that not everything people tell you is part of a dispassionate, scientific search for the truth.

There’s also a scene in a whorehouse in which Bella argues that it would make more sense to have the women decide who is to sleep with the johns, so that then the john could be more confident that the girl was attracted to him, which he must doubt if he chooses. You can tell I’m autistic because I immediately had the thought, “Well, but the johns would probably be worried that nobody would choose them.”

One of Bella’s fellow working girls instead tells her, “Some of them like the fact that we don’t have a choice”.

#poor things #movie review #autism #cw violence #I'm actually not sure what kind of content warning I should put for the corpse stabbing

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thegayestmferintown · 6 months

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How's about head cannons for the bishops + the Lamb

𝐀𝐥𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐲!!

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐌𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝

𝐑𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩: 𝐍𝐨𝐧𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐜 (𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐈 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧)

𝐓𝐲𝐩𝐞: 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐦𝐛

The Lamb has a habit of making dirt balls and throwing them at Narinder for fun.

This is practically canon and no one can change my mind.

Also, depending on when you come in the picture, they will leave little love notes for you.

The funniest part about the letters is that they don't leave a signature, they just write 𝐁𝐚𝐚𝐚 and you know it's them.

Despite being a lamb, they have the ability to watch people like a hawk.

And by that, I mean they have an incredible attention span, as weird as it may seem.

𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐚

Shamura sews. A lot.

They could, and would, remake the entirety of all the bishops outfits by themself.

When they read, if you're in the picture, they prefer to have you sitting on their lap instead of at their side.

As odd as it may seem, kisses from Shamura are the best.

Shamura counts doors and windows when they're bored.

They'll go around their temple and count every door and every window.

𝐊𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐫

Kallamar loves to dance but is far too scared to perform in front of anyone, that includes his siblings.

He can draw, and well.

He'll sometimes wander into his siblings territories and draw what he sees.

Once you come into the picture, he has a habit of drawing you.

And pretty quickly, his sketchbooks become full of drawings of you.

Of course, he would only show you them if you asked, but besides that, you're never seeing them.

𝐍𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫/𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐖𝐡𝐨 𝐖𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐬

He bites The Lamb, a lot.

And it's not on purpose, it is a purely subconscious thing. And it's not a kinky thing either.

When you come into the picture, he is all over you.

Kisses and hugs galore. In private, of course.

He pouts when you have to leave, like. literally pouts.

Depending on how long you're gone, he'll be stubborn and pouty until he gets some sort of reassurance that you're not planning his demise.

𝐇𝐞𝐤𝐞𝐭

She needs help to change her bandages, she can't do it on her own.

There's been times when she's croaked and it hurt her throat badly to the point she didn't talk for the rest of the day.

Leshy also laughed at her for it and she beat his ass 🧍‍♂️

She has a habit of kissing your throat lightly.

Not your neck, under your chin where your throat is.

Cuddles are a must for her, obviously in private, but she's in need of a little love.

𝐋𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐲

Leshy, being the Bishop of Chaos, is.. well.. chaotic.

He will bite your ears out of nowhere and feel zero (0) shame.

His branches wiggle when he's happy.

If he gets extremely excited or extremely happy, there's a possibility they'll fall out.

And when they do, he'll just be dramatic and stare at the branch on the ground like someone's decapitated head just rolled toward him.

He will pick you up and you have no choice in the matter.

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adore-laur · 5 months

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RENDEZVOUS

— a steamy flashback from the dadrry universe about harry as your fiancé 💍

——

After another shot of vodka went down the hatch, you still didn't qualify yourself as drunk. Tipsy was the more accurate feeling since every shot you had taken in the last ten minutes hadn't quite affected your bloodstream yet. The fifth one was being poured already. Or maybe the sixth. It didn't really matter since letting loose was what bachelorette parties were made for.

The event was being held in a small theatre in downtown San Francisco, occupied by you and your friends to celebrate the last few weeks before you officially became a married woman. A drag show was the extravaganza for the evening, and it was currently the intermission, so everyone was out of their seats drinking and catching up with each other.

You and Harry had needed a getaway amid the final phase of wedding planning. The both of you were staying at the Ritz-Carlton for the weekend, and it was nice to take a breather from the stress of the big day coming up. In the weeks leading up to the mini vacation, you had decided it would be perfect to have your bachelorette party in the scenic city. Most of your friends lived in surrounding areas, so you had sent the invites out and hoped everything worked out. It clearly did because everyone was buzzed and having the time of their life.

Your throat hurt from loudly cheering on the drag queens who had just performed. The tiara on your head with a tiny veil attached was slipping off, and the bride-to-be sash across your body was getting wrinkled, but you couldn't care less. Happiness and love exuded from your friends who had come to carouse with you.

Harry had proposed a little over a year ago after he cooked a fancy New Year's Eve dinner and led you to the backyard at midnight to get down on one knee, popping the question with shaky hands and watery eyes. You were incredibly thankful it hadn't been a grand display in public. It had been just you and him at home under the string lights, butterflies breaking loose in your stomach.

In planning the wedding, you had vowed to him that you wouldn't be a bridezilla. You'd allow him to have equal insight and let him completely take the reins regarding the food that will be served since it was his forte. Overall, the process hadn't been too draining. You worked well as a team, and he was always open to suggestions and last-minute changes of plans. The final touches would be put together once you came home from the trip. Then, it would finally be time to marry him.

"Did you leave Harry alone in the hotel room?" asked your friend, pulling you from your thoughts.

"Yeah, but I'm sure he'll find something to do," you said. "He can never sit still for too long."

She carefully fixed your tiara. "When's his bachelor party?"

"Next weekend. He's having it at the restaurant he works at."

"Not at the strip club?" she teased, wiggling her eyebrows.

You laughed. "He's mature enough to understand that I find it suspicious when guys go there for their bachelor party. Some call it their last night of freedom. How weird is that?"

You had nothing against strippers, but you thought it was reasonable that you'd rather have Harry spend his night somewhere else to celebrate his, you know, commitment to you.

"You're marrying such a gentleman. It makes me jealous," she said with a playful nudge. She wasn't wrong, so you just shrugged smugly and sipped your fruity cocktail.

Gasps and excited clapping suddenly stole your attention. You furrowed your eyebrows and looked at the stage, watching the red velvet curtains draw back once again. Shuffling to your table, you smoothed down the back of your dress and sat.

The lights dimmed as people who worked at the venue began rolling a black piano onto the stage. You wondered what it would be used for since the drag queens earlier had strictly danced and lip-synced to music booming from the speakers. Other instruments were also being brought out — guitars, drums, and even a saxophone.

Growing more confused by the second, you turned around and stared at your friends around the room to see if they knew what was happening. All you received was mischievous smiles.

Before you could ask questions, you were abruptly pulled out of your seat and led to the front of the stage as people situated themselves by their respective instruments. You leaned into your friend and asked, "What's going on? This doesn't look like a drag show is about to happen."

She smirked and shrugged one shoulder. "I don't know. Let's find out."

You didn't reply because the band started playing jazzy music as the stage lights turned on, revealing quite a modern setup for what you knew was definitely not a drag performance. A spotlight shone, and it began to move toward the left wings, where a silhouette of someone was waiting.

"Please give a warm welcome to Harry Styles!" introduced the saxophonist.

You just about choked on your Mai Tai.

Your vision finally focused on Harry as he strutted out wearing yellow trousers and a button-up under a suit jacket. A small mic was clipped to his collar, and you couldn't even begin to guess what he had planned tonight. He gave you no inclination that he'd be here. No subtle hints had been dropped in conversations with him, and no sneaky clues had been given by your friends. It was actually shocking, considering he was usually awful at keeping secrets.

Everyone cheered for him, whistles and encouraging hollers thrown his way as he held his arms out and walked toward center stage. You were too taken aback to join in as you watched him cut the band off with a gesture before facing the room with his hands behind his back.

Was his hair parted down the middle?

"Thank you, thank you," Harry greeted with a bow, his deep voice echoing throughout the theatre. "It is so great to be here hosting a bachelorette party for the first time."

Wow. He had jokes up his sleeve, apparently. Was he about to do a stand-up routine?

The applauding and praise continued as you shook your head in disbelief, letting a huge smile take over your face at the unexpected surprise.

"This is new territory for me," he said. I'm very excited to step back from my chef duties and do some comedy tonight."

There was no way he was going to do a comedy bit. You couldn't believe he crashed your party with a fancy suit and a routine ready to go. He was talking to your friend group in the audience like he was giving a Saturday Night Live monologue. You were going to lose it if he started playing the piano.

"You see, my fiancée and I go way back. We met about three years ago at a bar." He finally looked at you. "I ordered a lemon drop martini, and she ordered a strawberry margarita."

A stagehand brought out a clear martini and set it on the piano, and another one came down the stairs and placed a pink-colored margarita on your table. Your face heated at the simple yet thoughtful act.

"We talked for hours until I drunkenly asked her on a date. You know what she told me?" A plethora of whats were screamed from the crowd. "She said: Ask me when again you're sober!"

Everyone laughed, and you hid your face in your hands. That wasn't even a joke; you had genuinely said that to him. You were blown away he remembered such a tiny detail.

"Ultimately, I'm a very serious partner," Harry continued as he began sauntering toward the piano, "and nothing says serious partner like learning how to play the piano to impress my fiancée."

Taking a sip of your margarita, you glanced behind you. Some of your friends were recording him with their phones, and you were glad this could be something you could watch repeatedly.

Harry sat on the bench and exhaled. "Ooh, that feels good."

You had to wave one of the fans the drag queens gave out to cool down. He looked unfairly handsome, he was playing the goddamn piano, and he kept giving you secret looks that made you sweat.

"Now... I don't know if you've heard, but I'm not a boyfriend anymore." He stared straight at you. "I'm a fiancé now." Whistles from your friends caused him to proudly smile. "I'm also going to be dad," he casually blurted. "We're going to have a baby."

The entire room gasped, and you gaped at him with wide eyes. "We're not," Harry added after a short pause. "Wouldn't it be crazy if we were, though?" Your friends were now shaking you and battering you with questions. Harry smiled before his face dropped comically. "We're not."

He teasingly raised eyebrows and smirked at you as if to signify that you actually were pregnant, albeit you were drinking alcohol. Hopefully, everyone knew that you'd never be that stupid.

The girls were gawking at you, but Harry rolled his lips in and shook his head to remove the confusion. He continued playing the piano, and your cheeks hurt from laughing so much. He was doing such a great job, and you were genuinely trying to figure out how he had pulled all of this off.

"I love my fiancée; she's my best friend," he said smoothly. "She's hilarious, honest, caring, fuckin' beautiful" — he trailed off and furrowed his eyebrows — "and, uh... good in bed." You rolled your eyes as he puckered his lips at you, more cheers filling the room.

"Yeah, that's right." He blew out a relieved breath. "I'm so grateful she doesn't live with her mother anymore."

"Oh my God, Harry!" you yelled with a surprised laugh.

It was a more private joke that no one understood fully, but it was funny nonetheless. You had used to live with your mother when you started dating Harry, and you always had to be quiet when he'd come over because his early twenties testosterone needed to be having sex with you at the most inconvenient of times.

He winked at you before resuming. "However, for me, it's not about how my fiancée is in bed, even though I'd consider myself very lucky in that department. It's about her soul and her heart. And in all seriousness," he added as the laughter died, "I truly believe her soul is my love language."

Coos and squeals echoed at his statement, and you shyly smiled. You were the one who had taught him about all the different love languages; he had told you once that he thought your entire soul was what his was.

"Maybe some of you aren't convinced I'm a serious partner. You may be asking yourself: Did he really take secret piano lessons to do this? Well, if in doubt, just ask the maid of honor."

Your head whipped toward your maid of honor, sitting several tables behind you. She waved with a proud smile, and you gasped when you realized he must've done piano lessons with her since you knew she had played the instrument for several years.

Harry hummed loudly while closing his eyes, bringing your attention back to him. "I love being here in San Francisco. So much history."

The band behind him cheered as Harry dramatically sipped his martini. You'd never seen him so in his element with something besides his job. The confidence in the delivery of his jokes, the comedic timing, the professional stage setup — it was something you'd never forget.

"I've learned so much this week. Here's a few secrets about the hotel we're staying at," he said gaily. "Did you know they gave us the haunted room because of how pale I am?" He shook his head with a boyish smile. "That is funny."

You chuckled at the awful joke because he actually was paler than usual. It was the end of January, and he hadn't gone outside much since it'd been cold and gloomy by the coast where both of you lived.

"The bed in there is so creaky that it sounded like that one night in Mexico!"

Shocked gasps and bursts of laughter rippled throughout your friends in the audience. It was a harmless joke about how you had all gone on a couples trip a while ago, and your friends had heard you and Harry getting down with it in the hotel room. It'd been terribly embarrassing.

Harry laughed. "Everybody thinks we're a couple that has a lot of sex. We don't; that's why she sleeps in a different bed than me at home."

Okay, now that wasn't true.

"Except tonight!" he shouted cheekily while pointing at you. "I mean, I think I'm just about ready to take her home with how she looks right now."

The girls at your table nudged you, and you began to get flustered. He was giving you that look again.

Harry cleared his throat and stopped playing the piano. "All jokes aside, thank you so much to everyone for celebrating with her tonight. You've all been wonderful friends over the years, and I can't wait to see you all at the wedding. It'll be terrifying, but I'm so ready. Also, thank you for bearing with my terrible jokes. Have a good rest of the night!"

You applauded along with your friends, some of them throwing leftover confetti from the drag performance earlier toward him. He brought his hands together and bowed politely as the band played a closing song.

Harry's cheeks were as pink as your strawberry margarita when he walked down the stairs with one hand behind his back and the other adjusting his suit jacket. He locked eyes with you and pursed his lips, trying to hold back a smile. Everyone stood from their seats to greet him, and the band came down holding bouquets of white iris flowers, passing them out to each of your friends.

You met Harry halfway and instantly wrapped your arms around his waist as he tilted your head up for a messy kiss on the lips. He coaxed and smacked kiss after kiss out of you until your friends started making fake gagging noises from behind. He eventually pulled away and removed his hand behind his back to hold out a bountiful bouquet of red roses that matched the color of your dress.

"For my lovely fiancée." He gave you the bouquet and then turned your head so his mouth was by your ear. "I've got a taxi picking you up after this is done."

You nodded and ran your fingers across his stomach. "Sounds perfect. That was so incredible, Harry. And the piano? I'm impressed."

"It wasn't too much?" he asked, shyly rubbing a knuckle under his eyebrow. "Didn't know if you'd appreciate me crashing your girls night."

"Are you kidding? That was the best thing I've ever seen. I'm so proud of you."

Harry blushed, and you lovingly pinched his cheek. "Thanks. I was nervous because your friends always make fun of my jokes. I thought they wouldn't laugh."

"We were cracking up. You did so good," you complimented. "How did you keep it a secret from me? I had no idea."

"I'll never tell," he said with a cute shrug.

You lightly slapped his chest. "I'll get it out of you one day. Are you staying for the rest of the show?"

"It's your night, baby. Go enjoy it with your friends," he said. "I'll be waiting in the hotel room. You should stop by for a little rendezvous."

Your tipsy mind missed his attempt at a joke entirely. "We're staying in the same room, though."

"Bloody hell," he said with a laugh. "How much alcohol have you had?"

"Excuse me, not even a lot. Mind your business. I'm having a great time."

"I'm glad you're having fun. That makes me happy." Harry adjusted your tiara and then softly pecked the corner of your mouth three times. "I'll see you back in the room, okay?"

"For our rendezvous?"

"Our top secret rendezvous," he murmured against your temple. "Don't go around telling anyone, all right?"

"Sure thing," you replied while squeezing his sides. "You can go now."

An offended scoff escaped him, and he cradled the back of your head and leaned in. "Watch your mouth. I expect you to behave when you get back."

You puckered your lips and hummed contemplatively. "But it's my special day; you said so yourself. I can say whatever I—"

Harry cut you off by pressing his lips to your bottom one, biting it with his teeth before pulling back. "I love you so much, but that attitude isn't going to fly with me tonight."

You rolled your eyes. "Okay, dad."

"I'm leaving before this gets weird," he said with a smile. "Be safe, have fun, and call me if you need anything."

"Now you literally sound like a dad."

"Shush," he said. "I love you. I'll see you soon."

You pecked his lips one last time, tasting the sour lemon residue from his martini. "Love you."

"Have fun, ladies," he called out to your friends. "Take care of her, yeah?"

They all nodded, and Harry hugged you before heading to the stage to shake hands with the band. Soon after he was gone, the lights in the theatre dimmed again, and the curtains opened for the final portion of the show. You headed back to your seat feeling exceptionally giddy.

The rest of the party went by in a flash. Wigs, pop songs, and glitter invaded your brain, and now you were ready to return to the hotel. The tone he'd used earlier had made a shiver run down your spine. Low, insinuative, and almost impatient.

It was a tone that suggested you were in for a treat when you got back.

——

The key card swiftly slid into the slot. Two chirp-like beeps sounded, indicating that it was unlocked. Opening the heavy door, you stumbled inside the hotel room on the black heels you had already started to unclasp in the back of the taxi. There was confetti stuck to the bottom of them, and it nearly made you slip on the hardwood floors. That, and there was also a trail of rose petals and tea light candles weaving throughout the presidential suite that you didn't remember seeing when you had left earlier.

You giggled to yourself as you followed the trail to the bedroom. Oh, Harry. You had almost forgotten he was here.

When you walked through the doorway, the king-size bed came into view. So did your fiancé. Harry was sitting pretty on the silk sheets with a flute of champagne in his left hand as he looked out the window at the San Francisco skyline. He was wearing the same outfit from his surprise act not too long ago, but his hair had become messier, and his eyes were glassy from the bubbly liquid you noticed was already half gone from the bottle on the nightstand.

You crawled toward him on the bed, setting your bouquet down. "Hi. I'm back."

His gaze focused on you. He granted no response as his lips took a sip of the pale and fizzy drink he held so delicately, the gold engagement band on his ring finger gleaming from the moonlight illuminating the room. A low groan escaped his mouth when you straddled his thighs and applied pressure to his already hard cock. He wasn't saying anything, but you knew exactly what would get him to speak.

"What's got you so hard, baby?" you asked softly, tutting. "Were you thinking about me?"

His lips twitched as he finished the champagne and set it on the ground beside the bed. "Like you don't fuckin' know. Look at yourself, darling. It's honestly a shock that I wasn't on my knees for you at the theatre."

Your hands rubbed up and down his thighs. "I had a feeling you'd like this little number."

It had been a struggle to get through the door to leave since his touch had been all over you the second you put on the red satin slip dress.

"What about me? Do you like my outfit?"

Such a narcissist, you thought to yourself. You ground against him, and he let out a breathy moan. "I do. Apparently, no boxers are part of the get-up."

Harry closed his eyes and smirked. "I might have no boxers on, but there's something else you might find. Went and did some quick shopping while you were gone."

Your slowed thoughts tried to catch up to what he could have been hinting at. "Shopping, huh? What did you buy?"

His large hands kneaded your ass. "Take a look."

He leaned forward and guided your hand to the button of his trousers. You quickly flicked it undone as he removed his suit jacket and began undoing the button-up. His body lifted on the bed so you could slide the garment off easier, and he hissed when it brushed past his cock.

Slowly but surely, his legs underneath were revealed, and your face heated to a thousand degrees.

Fishnet tights.

His leg hair and tiger tattoo peeked out from under the crosshatch material stretched tight against his skin. The redness of his cock looked painful from its restraint under them.

"I might've bought a little something too," you admitted as you scratched his skin through the thin fabric.

"Yeah?" He jerked his hips when your fingers grazed the head of his cock. "Show me, then. Go on."

You sat on your knees and lifted your dress to reveal the baby pink garter around your upper thigh. "It's your favorite color."

Harry licked his lips as his fingers delicately rubbed the lace. "I see that, sweetheart. Anyone particular on your mind when you bought it?"

"Was there anyone on your mind" — you snapped the waistband of his fishnets — "when you bought these?"

He bit his lip. "You're the only one I think of. The only one I would wear these for. I would crawl on my knees to you wearing them if that's what you wanted."

"Is that so? Quite the visual."

"I'll do it if you want me to." He paused, a smile slowly creeping across his face. "We can practice the garter toss for our wedding."

You made a noise of protest. "We are absolutely not doing that in front of our families. It'll be so humiliating."

"Don't have to because we can do it right now," he suggested. A nip was given to your neck before he climbed off the bed and grabbed a chair.

Your eyebrows arched. "What are you doing?"

"We're doing this the traditional way," he explained with a nonchalant shrug. "Have to go under your dress and take it off."

"Will you be nice, or will you tease me?"

"Which do you prefer?"

You swung your legs over the bed and sat in the chair. "I prefer the way that gets you inside me as soon as possible."

"Well, I'll let you know once I'm between your thighs," he said, kneeling on the carpeted floor and gesturing his hands for you to spread open for him.

"No tickling, or I'm staying in another room," you warned as you slid off your heels and parted your legs.

Harry started crawling toward you with his tousled hair and day-old stubble, only wearing his fishnets and unbuttoned dress shirt. He never broke eye contact with you until he reached where you sat.

Your satin dress was then lifted over his head. You could instantly feel his hot breath against your legs, his lips grazing every patch of skin he could find. He left an open-mouthed kiss over your underwear that was already damp, and you moaned when his facial hair rubbed against your inner thigh.

You suddenly felt his teeth grab the garter as he pulled it down to your ankle. He took it off the rest of the way with his hand, bringing it over your shoe and moving out from under your dress. He stuck it between his teeth again and removed his button-up. Green eyes stared at you, and you clenched your legs under his intense stare. His tattooed torso was on full display. He was so, so beautiful.

Harry grabbed the garter and slid it on his bicep before saying, "Stand up."

You got up and switched spots with him, standing in front of him while he sat in the chair. He crossed his legs, thighs thickening even more under the fishnets. You walked over and parted them so you could straddle him. The chair was thankfully wide enough to where both of your knees fit on either side of him. You could almost feel his cock throb as you started desperately grinding against him to offer relief.

"Baby, slow down— shit, slow down," he said quickly, hands gripping your waist. "I need to last. You'll make me come right now if you keep doing that."

Slowing down, you took your time with each grind on his thigh. The pressure of the muscle felt like heaven as your core clenched around nothing. "Is that better?" you asked, raising your dress to see how his body reacted underneath you.

"Yes," he choked out, his neck straining. "Need to be inside you so bad."

"How bad?"

"So bad. I'm fuckin' throbbing for you. Please get on the bed."

You squeezed one of his balls through the fishnets, his hips bucking. "Where does it ache? Tell me how to make it better."

"Get on the bed," he gritted. "I'm not gonna ask again."

There was the dominance you wanted. You nipped his earlobe and crawled off his legs. He immediately stood, hissing as he palmed himself through his tights. You helped him take them off.

"Top or bottom?" he asked while closing the curtains. "My fiancée's choice."

"Neither. I want it from behind."

"Say less." He turned around, gripping his cock and squeezing it once. "On the bed. Now."

You quickly slipped your dress and underwear off and knelt on the bed, facing the headboard. Harry got in position behind you, his cock resting on your lower back. He moved your hair to one side and whispered, "On all fours."

You placed your forearms on the bed and arched your back so he had a good angle. "Open your mouth," he commanded. You tilted your head up and to the side as he leaned in to spit in your awaiting mouth. His saliva pooled on your tongue, and you swallowed it down willingly. "Good girl."

Harry then reached his arm out to hold onto the headboard. The engagement ring on his finger caught your eyes, as did his veiny hand that tightly gripped the burgundy wood.

The first thrust was divine. Searing pressure filled your walls, and Harry whimpered into your neck at your instant clench around his cock. He continued deeply thrusting into you as he took the garter off his arm and put it around your wrists so that they were restrained in front of you. Your hips burned. Harry's other hand squeezed your breast.

"Go faster," you said as his hand trailed down to your stomach, his long middle finger lightly grazing your clit.

He pounded harder, skin slapping as the headboard l creaked from the force. He was hitting all the deep spots, his pelvis meeting your ass each time. Your hands gripped the sheets when he glided his fingers up and down your dripping core. His head was nestled in your neck, muffled groans and pants leaving him when you pushed up your hips with each new thrust.

He removed his fingers that were coated with your arousal and spread his palm on your lower stomach. "Can you feel me there?"

You nodded fervently, crying out when a deep trust had you literally feeling him in your stomach. "Holy shit, Harry. I feel you. Please don't stop."

He pressed down and rubbed your stomach, the knot from your orgasm growing and bubbling up quickly. In one swift movement, he brought you to a sitting position as his cock continued stretching your wet walls. His thighs were touching yours, and you could feel them tense and tremble as you got closer, clenching hard around him.

"I'm gonna get your name tattooed on my thigh right here," he said, taking the garter off your wrists and moving one of your hands to touch his right thigh.

You were too submerged in ecstasy to reply to his random confession. A couple more thrusts had you blindly reaching back to grab his hand so you could come. He held it tightly as you unraveled, arching against him from the pleasure leaving you.

"That's my girl," he praised in your ear. "My love, my love, my love. So gorgeous, coming for me like this."

Your ears were ringing, and Harry eventually spilled inside you while you still clenched from your remaining orgasm. You felt his warm release shoot inside you, his hand still holding yours and his body falling on top of you as he groaned hotly against your cheek. Heavy breathing was coming from both of you. Harry finished coming but kept his cock inside you, throbs and twitches happening every so often.

"If we weren't engaged already," he started, "I'd propose to you right now because that... that was the best I've ever felt. Wow. My body feels all tingly."

You groaned, his dead weight on top of you making it hard to breathe. "Get off me. You're sweaty."

Harry rolled over and stared at the ceiling with his hands clasped on his stomach. The dim light illuminating the room and the perspiration glistening on his skin accentuated the carved outline of his abs, and you couldn't help but trace them with your fingertips.

"Shower?" he asked.

"Please."

He got up and carried you toward the bathroom. Everything in there was white marble, and the brightness hurt your eyes. The shower was small but comfortable enough to fit both of you. You already had taken one in the morning, but it would feel nice after a long, eventful night. It would also help you sober up as much as possible so you don't suffer through a terrible hangover tomorrow.

After laying down a towel and setting you atop the sink, Harry turned on the shower. He took off both of your engagement rings and then stood in front of the mirror. He inspected his stubble while he waited for the water to heat up.

"Should I shave?"

"Why?" you asked with a sharp tone that had him immediately raising his hands in surrender.

"All right," he mumbled with a teasing smile. "Blimey, woman. Don't get your knickers in a twist."

"What are you even saying?" you asked languidly. "I hate it when you speak old-timey British to me."

"Are you cheesed off at me now?"

"You're literally speaking gibberish." You hopped off the counter. "I'm getting in the shower. Goodbye."

Harry followed you and ducked under the hot water, trapping you in a hug from behind. "I'm sorry."

"Why are you apologizing?" The soft skin of his stomach against your back had you melting into him.

"I don't want you to divorce me before we get married," he explained, kissing your jaw. "I'm just playing it safe."

"Harry, you're the only person who can annoy me and make me endeared at the same time."

"Is that a good thing?"

"Yes," you replied, picking up the shampoo bottle you brought and handing it to him. "It makes me want to marry you right now."

He spurted a dollop of shampoo into his palm and began massaging it into your scalp with gentle and soothing motions. "I can't wait to marry you, either. Gonna treat you like a gentleman."

You lulled your head back, resting it on his collarbone. "You already do."

"I'll do it even more when I'm your husband, though. Make dinner for you every night and take you out on the town." He gravitated one hand to your stomach. "Give you so many babies."

"Not so fast," you interjected with a dreamlike smile. "No babies anytime soon."

Harry filled the shower cup with water and poured it over your sudsy hair. "I hear you. Just know that I'm ready whenever you are."

"Let's get married first. I want you all to myself for a while."

"You always have me. That'll never change."

You turned him around so you could wash his hair next, opting for the same shampoo since he liked to steal it for himself anyway. After a prolonged yet comfortable silence, you asked, "Were you serious about tattooing my name on your thigh?"

"I'm dead serious," he replied. "I might even do it at my bachelor party. I work with a guy who's coming, and he does tattoos in his free time."

"But why on your thigh? Seems like a risqué place for it."

Harry turned his head and gave you a blank stare. "Would you rather me get it in a corny place like over my heart?"

You laughed, lathering shampoo in his curly hair. "No, not really. I guess you're right. It's kind of a secret spot for only us to know."

"Not unless I wear shorts all the time."

"Yeah, but thankfully, you wear pants every day at work. I don't want your coworkers to see that."

"Why not? I can't show you off anymore?" he teased, reaching back to pinch your side. "Wow, you propose to a woman, and suddenly she wants to be anonymous."

"Shut up," you muttered through a smile. "I honestly don't care. Just please don't get it inked in an ugly font."

Harry moved under the shower head, closing his eyes and slicking his hair back. "Well, it's a good thing I was going to ask if you'd write it out for me."

"Seriously?"

"No," he said in a deadpan manner, spitting out some water that had got in his mouth. "I'm thinking Comic Sans."

Poking the soft skin under his belly button, you said, "You think you're so funny now because you did a five-minute comedy routine."

He didn't provide a retort, but you saw him grin as he washed the rest of the shampoo from his hair. His nose was scrunched while he scratched his scalp and cleaned the foamy residue off his face.

After a peaceful moment of nothing but the sound of the shower water beating down, Harry opened his arms and brought you in for a hug. "I love you. You know that?"

You kissed his collarbone. "Where did that come from?"

"Dunno." He shrugged and cradled your head with his hands. "It hit me that we're getting married in a month."

It had been hitting you as well. You'd been waiting so patiently for the special day to arrive. "I love you," you said quietly. Thank you for tonight and every night. You make life worth living."

"Are you trying to make me cry?"

"Yes."

"Cool."

It fell silent as you stared longingly at each other with growing smiles. Harry slowly started getting closer to your face, his dimples carving deeper until his eyes crossed from how near he was. His forehead dropped against yours, and you rolled your lips in when he attempted to steal a kiss from you.

"How about another rendezvous, but this time we get in bed and fall asleep?" you suggested, reaching around him and shutting the shower off. Sporadic drips and exiting warmth greeted you.

He pouted. "Only if you kiss me."

"We've done enough of that today."

"You're really not gonna kiss your fiancé after I just told you I'd give you babies? That's dire."

You laughed and admired a water droplet cascade from his pointed nose. "If you blow dry my hair for me, I'll reconsider."

Flinging the shower curtain open, Harry yanked a fluffy towel from the hook on the wall, then gently wrapped it around your body before grabbing one for himself and tying it low on his hips. The blow dryer next to the mirror didn't have a long cord, so you sat on the counter for easier access and squeezed any remaining wetness from your hair into the sink. Meanwhile, Harry covered the top of his head with a towel. He looked like the Virgin Mary.

You gave him a comb, and he took the blow dryer with his other hand, turning it on and gesturing at you to ensure it wasn't too hot on your skin. For the next ten minutes, the sound of the loud dryer filled the space. It would have been a stressful sound in any other situation — trying to dry soaking wet hair from the pool before dinner reservations or untangling knots from yesterday's sleep. This time, it was relaxing. Domestic. A moment in time.

The soothing scratches Harry gave to your head as he combed through every citrus-scented strand could have put you to sleep. The hotel room's air conditioner was cold and crisp, but occasionally, he'd lower the dryer so it blew warm air on your arms.

Before you knew it, the dryer clicked off, and peaceful quietness surrounded you. Harry's hair dried much quicker than yours, so he took off the towel on his head and tied some of his damp curls up in a ponytail for the night.

His hands planted themselves on either side of your legs. "Kiss time," he whispered, his arms taut.

You slid off the counter, finding yourself trapped by his body—not that you minded. Grabbing his left hand, you raised it to your lips to kiss his ring finger, then put his gold engagement band back on.

"My mouth is up here."

You grinned. "And? What about it?" Harry annoyingly pushed his forehead into your cheek, grumbling something incoherently. You pushed it away and asked, "What did you say?"

"I said I think I'll die if you don't kiss me," he repeated dramatically.

"What kind of kiss do you want?"

He once told you that he had favorites for different situations: a nip, tug, peck, tongue, or the type where you both smile so big that the kisses become messy and mixed with giggles. The latter was your personal favorite.

He hummed, his nose wrinkling as he pondered. "The one where you do all the work."

You laughed softly. It wasn't necessarily a joke he was making; he genuinely enjoyed it when your lips moved against his. Sometimes, he just wanted to be kissed silly. It was never awkward, nor did it feel like a chore. He was the most kissable person to roam the earth, so resisting was hard.

"Okay," you said, draping your arms over his shoulders. "Only for a little bit, though. I'm exhausted."

Harry nodded and lifted you, setting you on the counter again. Your legs circled around his hips. "I'll return the favor tomorrow," he said.

The towel on his waist was hanging on for dear life. His eyelids were lazily drooping from tiredness, and his skin was flushed from the steam. How could someone look so pretty in hotel bathroom lighting?

Your hand on his cheek gently guided him to your mouth. His lips were damp and plush from the shower, parting naturally with each of your doting kisses. With his nose nudged against yours, pleased hums came from his throat as you alternated between his top and bottom lip. Kissing him never got old. It could be soft or rough, long or short, brought about by love or annoyance. It was a cure all the same.

After a slow and innocent onslaught of kisses, you pulled away before you ended up making out with him until morning. Bruised, aching lips could wait.

Harry whined in protest. "That was only, like, five seconds."

"Guess what?" You trailed your fingertips along his neck. "You have the rest of your life to kiss me."

He yawned while shaking his head. "That's not enough time. Give me forever."

"I'll try," you said fondly, sliding your engagement ring back on.

You would until children of your own were born and required you to share that love. Until your children's children withdrew even more of it. Yet, despite that, Harry would always be the first person you had given your heart to completely. He had never taken advantage of it. He had never made you doubt his love for you. It was the kind of love that was immortal. It would never die out and would remain the greatest feeling you'd ever felt in this life and the next.

If evermore was attainable, you liked to believe it was made possible by loving him.

——

#harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles au #harry styles #rendezvous #adore-laur

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strawnarrries · 9 months

Text

because im sad about the last show, here's a little imagine about y/n and harry reminiscing the past two years the night before the last show :(

warnings: mentions of sex but nothing graphic

Your eyes fluttered open and you realized it was still dark outside, a sign that it was not quite morning just yet. You're not sure why you woke up. It was like your body knew something was off because when you turned over, the bed was empty beside you.

Rubbing your eyes to clear the sleepy haze, you noticed light coming from under the closed door of the bedroom in the villa you and Harry are staying in. Getting up out of bed, you opened the door and the sudden change in lighting burned your eyes. After getting used to it, you walked towards the kitchen and spotted your husband, leaning up against the counter, sipping on something inside of a mug.

“Harry?” you hummed, walking up to him.

“Oh hey, did I wake you up? I’m sorry," he looked up at you with doe eyes and messy hair sticking up in every direction.

“What are you doing?”

“Can’t sleep.”

You popped your bottom lip out and wrapped your arms around his bare waist, his instinctively wrapping around yours after setting his mug on the counter, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I just can't believe the last show's tomorrow night.”

“Aw, I know. You wanna talk about it?” you hummed, looking up at him with tired eyes.

"I'm gonna miss it. A lot," he whispered, "but at the same time I'm excited for a long break."

"It's bittersweet."

"Yeah," he nodded.

"It's gonna be weird not getting to watch you on stage every night in your sparkly outfits."

He chuckled softly, "You don't get those outfits at home, do ya?"

"No, I get you either naked or in the one stupid shirt that you refuse to throw away even though it's practically in shreds."

"Thought you loved that shirt?" he teased.

You glared up at him before changing the subject, "What'dya think you'll miss the most? Just being on stage?"

"Yeah. Performing. It's one of my favorite things in the world to do. I just get such a rush from being out there and interacting with the fans and hearing them scream my lyrics."

"And hearing them bark at you," you added.

He giggled, "Yes, that too."

"You'll be back though. It's not the end."

“You're right. I feel like this tour was just special for some reason, I dunno. I fear I’m gonna get really emotional tomorrow on stage though. I was holding back tears at the show the other night," he chuckled.

“It’s okay to get emotional. You know me and your mom will be sobbing the entire night."

He smiled softly as he cupped your jaw and rubbed his thumb back and forth across your cheek, "I've been reflecting a lot recently. So much has happened in the last two years. It's wild."

“You've done, like what, 150 shows?”

“169 tomorrow."

“Holy shit, Harry. Most of them were completely sold out too. Do you realize how incredible that is?”

“It's mad. I think this has been the most successful tour I’ve ever been on.”

“Oh, by far.”

“Gonna miss seeing everyone every day. Gonna miss the fans and being up on stage. I've had some of the best shows of my life on this tour.”

“Harryween,” you giggled fondly at the memory that popped into your head.

“That was fun as fuck,” he giggled back.

“You’ve done more than just tour though. So many award shows, Coachella, music videos, you starred in two different movies, Harry.”

“I have,” he nodded, smiling proudly at himself, "Looking back, the amount of love and support that I've gotten from everyone, the fans, my team, my friends, and family, and from you is just - it's - it's so overwhelming like I can't even explain it to you. Like my mind can't comprehend that this is my life. Been 13 years and I still can't believe it."

"'cause you deserve it, baby. With the amount of love you give out and just the type of person you are in general, you deserve everything that's come your way. Have I ever told you how proud of you I am?" you teased, being the fact that those words leave your lips multiple times after every single one of his accomplishments.

"Never. Not once," he chuckled.

“Well, I am,” you hummed pressing a sweet kiss to his sternum, just under where his cross necklace lay, "It makes me feel so prideful that I get to call you my husband."

“Thank you, my love. You know I wouldn't be here without you.”

You rested your head on his warm chest, hugging him tighter, embracing the sweet silence before breaking it, "Can I be honest with you?”

He nodded as you looked back up at him.

“I know it's selfish but a big part of me is excited that it’s over because then I get you all to myself and don’t have to share you with the world.”

“Finally don’t have to hear you nagging for my attention all the time,” he chuckled.

“Heyyyyyy,” you whined.

“I’m joking, baby.”

You rolled your eyes teasingly.

“We have a lot to look forward to.”

“Like what?” he asked, although he knew exactly what you were referencing to, he just wanted to hear you say it.

“You becoming a daddy.”

“Really lookin forward to that. I can’t wait ‘till you have a cute little baby bump.”

“Gotta get me pregnant first.”

"You don't gotta worry 'bout that. We’re gonna be goin' at it all day every day when we’re on holiday next month,” he smirked.

“I can't even explain to you how excited I am for that. Vacation Harry is my favorite Harry."

He grinned, “I love you, Y/N."

“I love you too.”

He leaned down and pressed his lips to yours for a few sweet kisses before you hummed sleepily, “Will you come back to bed with me now?”

“Yeah, c’mon.”

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry #harry imagine #harry fanfic #harry fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #one direction #one direction fanfic #one direction fanfiction #one direction imagine #hslot #fluff #harry fluff #one direction fluff #harry styles fluff

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hwaslayer · 6 months

Text

project: make you love me (jyh) | seven.

♣︎ spotify playlist | series masterlist

—summary: yunho can’t stand how you’re so wrapped up in the notorious campus fuckboy, park seonghwa. he would gladly love you the way you deserve, despite being shy, awkward and the complete opposite of seonghwa. thus, when he finds himself spending more time with you over literature reviews and random study sessions, he decides to take on the challenge to win you over.

—pairing: jeong yunho x f. reader x park seonghwa

—genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers/friends to lovers, college au | fluff, angst, smut

—word count: 4.4k

—chapter content/warnings: cussing, oc teaches yunho a few moves hehe, subtle flirting and small signs of affection, yunho meets oc's mom and sis! (coincidentally) lol, mingi being weird again due to his loyalty with hwa, yeosang encourages yunho to just go for it 😭

Yunho swings his keychain around his finger, letting out a breath as he makes his usual trek to the back parking lot. He's exhausted, and he can't wait to just plop onto his bed and do.. nothing.

As he approaches the gym, he hears the once-subtle music now getting louder and louder— though, the rest of campus is quiet, the parking lots are quiet, gym much emptier than usual. When he passes the dance studio window, he sees you alone. Your music is blasting, you're figuring out choreography and cleaning steps up. Yunho can't help but stare a bit until he realizes how odd he must look through the window. So, he diverts his attention and begins to walk on, afraid of ruining your me-time.

"Yunho!" He turns over his shoulder, seeing you leaning near the window screen. "Hey you!"

"Hey." He stops and takes a few steps closer to you.

"You were just gonna pass without saying hi? I've barely seen you all week." You pout, and Yunho thinks it's the cutest thing the world.

"I'm sorry, it's been quite the week. But, you looked too focused, I didn't wanna interrupt."

"Not even! I could use the distraction." You motion for him to come inside. "Come! Unless you have other plans, then don't let me be a bother." You chuckle.

"Alright, if you say so." Yunho laughs a bit and walks towards the front desk, tapping his student ID card on the reader before walking in. He hasn't been to the gym in a minute, mainly because of how swamped he's been with homework and projects. He quickly peeks into the basketball courts, seeing there's open gym going on for those who want to play volleyball. He catches a glimpse of Soobin and Seungmin joining your other friends in a game, Chaery nowhere to be found.

He finally turns down the hallway and finds the dance studio, seeing you continuing to rehearse with the music booming in the room. He steps inside and shuts the door behind him, standing off to the corner to let you finish off your thought process this time around. Your moves flow together, fluidly shifting from one movement to the other— Yunho thinks you're pure art, even if he's not witnessing the entire piece right now.

"You can sit if you want." You tell him as you jog over to your phone and lower the volume.

"What're you working on?"

"Finalizing a part of our piece for a competition coming up soon."

"Competition, hm?" Yunho sits against the glass with one leg propped up, arm hanging loosely over it. "Don't you have a performance tomorrow?"

"I do." You laugh. "But, we wanted to do something a little different for the competition. It's something we've performed before. Just changing a few things around."

"I see."

"Where were you coming from? Library?" He nods.

"My usual. Why aren't you taking a break and playing with your friends?"

"I'm terrible at volleyball, I'll just make them lose and they'll be mad." You giggle. "Chaery is having dinner with her parents. They came down to visit."

"Yeah, I didn't see her around."

"Mhm. She'll probably be back later tonight." You yawn and try to shake off the exhaustion slowly hitting you. "So.. are you coming tomorrow?" You shyly ask him and all Yunho does is stupidly shrug in response.

"I'll try." And he wishes he could take that back the moment it slips out. Because he really does wanna go. He's just not sure how comfortable he'll feel. But he does. He wants to support you and be there for you. You've been nothing but patient and incredibly sweet to him, it's the one thing he could do.

He doesn't do this, though.

He's not really sure how to?

Should he just say congrats after the performance and give you a hug [which might turn into an awkward one-handed hug because he is who he is]?

Should he buy some flowers?

Should he wait for you with the flowers?

Should he buy some for Chaery too so she doesn't feel left out or anything? Because don't you two come in a package deal?

God, it's been so long for him. And he feels so pathetic.

"You promise?"

"Promise."

"Fair enough." You smile. "I just need to go through this a few more times before calling it a night. I gotta teach it to the group."

"You're okay with me around? Isn't it a secret?" You nod.

"Of course. The piece isn't a secret." You tilt your head and giggle. "Actually. Can I teach you a few steps?" Yunho laughs, ears a bright red tint.

"Teach me? I don't know how to dance, Y/N."

"Everyone does, especially once they learn a few steps." You hold out your hand. "Please? It'll be simple and quick." He sighs a bit and stands, slowly walking over to you.

"I don't know. As long as you don't make fun of me."

"I won't." You take his hand and lead him to the center of the room. You watch as he stands tall next to you, shaking his head and slightly creating some distance.

"Wait, I don't know. I-I really don't think I can—"

"Yunho." You look up at him and hold his wrist gently. "Just a few. You're gonna do great. Trust me?" He swallows the lump in his throat before silently nodding, letting you take the lead on teaching him a simple 8 count. He follows along easily, and he learns quick. You're surprised Yunho has never had any dancing history because with the way he moves, you would've believed he had been pursuing it just like you— as a passion, a hobby. You repeat the 8-count a few more times with him before you're blasting the music and having him join along with you. He gets a bit more comfortable, letting you playfully hit him when he messes up on purpose and gives you a look. But, there are other times when he'd reach for your hands and try to prevent your hit— holding your hand and laughing along with you.

"I'm done, I'm done. I swear I'll do it right this time." You slightly whine, letting his hand go to get back into position.

"Yeah, you better."

"I'm not the one with a competition!"

"Still!" He laughs.

"Okay, okay. Jeez, I didn't think I was gonna workout today." He smiles, a soft pink tint coloring his cheeks. He gladly works through the steps once more before stepping out and letting you do your thing, watching off to the side. He crosses his arms and nods in acknowledgement, softly clapping his hands when you've stopped dancing.

"I don't know how this is gonna work."

"Y/N, you're doing great. Seriously. It'll turn out amazing. You have a bit of time, don't be so hard on yourself."

"You think so?"

"You need to give yourself a lot more credit."

"Thank you, Yunho. Especially for letting me randomly teach you." He chuckles.

"It was fun, and I am honored." You giggle.

"Are you just going to head home?"

"Mhm. Be lazy. Think I can give myself that. Do you need a ride?" You shake your head.

"I'm here until Soobin and Seungmin finish."

"You sure you don't need a ride home?"

"Positive. I should really finish this anyway." You giggle before softly hitting him on the chest. "Hope you got a good workout today."

"Kinda, yeah. Probably won't do that for awhile."

"Have a good night, Yunho." You look up at him so sweetly that Yunho feels his knees buckle a bit. Even under the dim studio light, he finds you so, so pretty.

"Will you.. text me when you get home?" He scratches at his temple, unsure if he's coming off needy.

"Of course."

"Okay." Is all he says before grabbing his things, holding his keys in his hands. "Have a good night, Y/N. Don't practice too hard."

"I'll try not to." Yunho gives you a small nod before walking out of the studio. He's not sure if he'd ever say this out loud, but he feels something in his chest when he hears the door shut behind him— now creating a barrier between you and him. He pauses for a second, pondering if he should just sit in the studio and get more work done while you practiced, but he shakes it off and continues walking out of the gym facility.

No.

He was here to help you with literature. He didn't think it'd be anything outside of that. So no, he can't be too much for you right away. He doesn't want to be.

When Yunho gets home, Yeosang is in the kitchen making himself some food. Yunho greets him and brushes past to grab a cold bottle of unsweetened green tea from the fridge.

"Did you just finish from the library?"

"Kinda, yeah." Yunho takes a quick sip. "I, uh, saw Y/N while she was practicing so I hung out in there for a bit."

"Cute. She has another performance tomorrow, right?"

"Mhm, but she was practicing for their competition coming up soon."

"Shouldn't she be taking a break for the performance tomorrow?" Yunho shrugs.

"Her friends are playing volleyball." Yeosang chuckles.

"Are you going to go tomorrow?"

"Hm, I think so. I don't know."

"You should."

"Mm, I don't really go to these things."

"You can do one night for Y/N." Yunho nods.

"Yeah, I guess so. I probably will." He sighs. "I wanted to get her some flowers but I didn't wanna be too much."

"What? No. You wouldn't be. She'll appreciate that gesture."

"Maybe." Yunho lets out a small, pathetic laugh. He is definitely overthinking, and Yeosang is very aware.

"Let me know how it goes."

"Yup." Yunho bids him farewell before settling in his room.

The next day comes quick, and it's a blur for your team. You get to the auditorium bright and early, instantly doing a dry rehearsal and marking the stage before putting on some stage makeup and rehearsing with your performance outfit. It's been so busy that you haven't really gotten a chance to text Yunho back after his goodmorning text—

you: hi yunho, goodmorning! it's gonna be super busy today so i'm sorry if i don't text back right away. i hope i'll see you later, i'll be looking out for you in the crowd. ☺️

yunho: aw, morning! no worries, goodluck today 😊 you'll kill it!

Meanwhile, Yunho heads to the front of the building, quickly buying a ticket before heading indoors. Right before he enters the auditorium, he sees single roses being sold near the far right entrance of the auditorium. Yunho thinks to himself for a moment, wondering if it's a good idea to do this or not. He already settled on the fact that he wouldn't— just to play it safe. But somehow, he feels like this is a sign that he should do it.

Fuck it.

He lets out a breath before he maneuvers through the crowd, instantly handing the seller some cash. He quickly thanks her and makes his way inside, finding a seat in the middle— close enough to see you, but far enough to see the entire stage. He wants to make sure he sees your friends, and he wants to see the piece in its entirety. He lets out a breath, settling into the [uncomfy] chair with the program in his hand.

He flips through the page, reading through the various performances, seeing your group come up towards the end. Typically, he'd hate to sit through all of this. But, he knows you'd really appreciate him staying and supporting the entire show.

So, he sits. He waits. He supports.

But, he's eager to see you. He's eager to see you kill it on stage because he knows you will.

In the next 15 minutes or so, the lights dim in the auditorium, and the MC is beginning to kick off the night with a brief introduction, followed by the meaning behind tonight's concert and what it will be supporting. It takes off with a quick, and intense start— another dance group guesting and beginning the show.

Afterwards, it follows with some singing. A band playing their instruments. Traditional, cultural dancing. Solo stages.

Until the lights shine down on the stage, and he finally spots you, Chaery, your friends. You all hold your poses until the music starts playing loudly in the auditorium, surround sound speakers booming in their corners. You all start off strong, facial expressions properly conveying the intensity of the piece. It splits off into an all-girls piece, before the boys find their way in and it becomes one. All of your moves are pristine and sharp, and the entire piece flows cohesively. Yunho is in awe, and he's not even sure where to look first.

He regrets not having watched you earlier.

The piece is 5 minutes, but Yunho feels like it goes by way too quickly for his liking. The last bits to close the piece out makes the audience roar in screams and yells just as the lights dim and your figures are hurrying off the stage. Yunho claps, smiling big and wide after; feeling the adrenaline and excitement that is being shared amongst the entire room right now.

You killed it out there.

Yunho feels proud of you, and he's glad he got to see you on stage.

When the show closes out, everyone stands and begins to make their way out of the auditorium. Yunho matches the slow pace of the crowd as everyone continues to walk out and wait for their loved ones to come to the lobby. Yunho feels like he should wait here for you to arrive, but he sees a group of people push through the hallway doors on the right— screams erupting from the other side. Before he can even think about it, his feet are already taking him to the hallway, hoping he can find you there.

And luckily for him, he does.

He smiles to himself when he sees you down the hallway; fresh off the stage and looking beautiful as ever. A few people come to greet you and hug you, praising you and your friends for the great performance. Yunho keeps his hands behind his back as he walks closer, your eyes landing on him from past your friend's shoulder.

"Yunho!" You squeal, running to him. "You actually made it!"

"I did." He smiles.

"Sorry, I'm gross and sweaty."

"You look good, Y/N."

"Are you lying?" He laughs and shakes his head.

"No, never that." He shifts. "I.. have something for you?" He says in a cute, questioning tone just as he pulls out a single rose from behind his back. "You did great out there." He smiles at you, a subtle rose-tint growing on his cheeks.

"Yunho." You look at him, and at first, he's not really sure if he fucked up already. But, before he could let his thoughts consume him, you wrap your arms around his neck and hug him tightly. "You're so sweet. Thank you." Yunho takes you in before wrapping an arm around you. He does wrap the one arm around you tightly though, giving you a gentle squeeze before pulling away.

"Where's mine?!" Chaery playfully questions, but Yunho chuckles a bit and pulls out another rose from behind his back. He genuinely wanted to buy her one since she was your bestfriend. Chaery has always been nice to him, and it's the least he could do to show his appreciation for that, and for always taking care of you. Chaery gasps, pouting while taking the flower from Yunho's hand. "Oh my god, I was totally just kidding. You're so sweet, Yunho. Thank you." She pouts.

"It's nothing. You guys did really great up there." Yunho shifts his weight from one foot to another before digging his hands into his pockets.

"He is so cute, please Y/N." She turns to you and whines. "Please snatch him up."

"Can you quit?' You whisper harshly before Yunho is greeting Soobin and Seungmin, praising them for the successful piece. Suddenly, your mom and your sister come rushing through with a big bouquet in hand, your mom pulling you into a big bear hug.

"That piece was amazing! You guys did great!" Your mom praises you with a smile, brushing your hair out of your face before moving onto Chaery.

"Proud of you as always." Your older sister hands you the bouquet, eyeing the rose already in your hand. Her eyes go to you, Yunho's [who is back to observing on the side], then back to you. "I see you got a rose already?"

"Oh, uh." You shyly chuckle and tuck your flowers close to your chest. "This is Yunho. Yunho, my mom, my sister Leia."

"It's nice to meet you." Yunho swallows the lump in his throat, feeling like the world is caving in on him right at this moment. He should've expected your mom and sister to be here, why wouldn't they be? He just didn't expect to be introduced. Jesus Christ, Yunho. Get it together.

"A very tall and handsome one." Your mom says, making your sister and Chaery giggle. "It's nice to meet you, Yunho." She smiles at him.

"My parents wanna grab something to eat with everyone. Shall we get going?" Soobin comes towards you, your family and Chaery. You all nod, giving leverage for your mom, sister and Chaery to shift their attention towards him, Seungmin and the rest of the dance team. Yunho slowly steps closer to you again, a small, toothless smile on his face.

"Gonna go eat?"

"Mhm. You should join us!" He shakes his head.

"You should enjoy your dinner with your family and friends." You give him a tiny smile of acknowledgment.

"Thank you for coming, Yunho. Seriously." You chuckle and nod before raising the rose up. "And for this. I'll make sure to take really good care of it."

"Good." He tilts his head and quickly swipes his tongue over his lips. "Have a good dinner."

"I will. You too? Get something to eat, okay?" You gently set the flowers down before wrapping your arms around his neck for another quick hug. This time, Yunho can successfully wrap his arms around your waist and pull you close properly. He smells like.. woody sage, with a mix of his laundry detergent. You slowly pull away, keeping your gaze on him while subtly biting on your bottom lip. "I'll text you later."

"Okay." Is all he responds with. You find it hard to pull yourself away from him, like some kind of force that wants to keep yourself attached to him; a force that keeps you wanting more from Yunho. But, you're pulled out of your thoughts when Chaery yells your name, begging for you to hurry so everyone could leave.

So, you catch up with your friends, your family; happily holding your flowers on the way out, while Yunho's left here, wondering what to do.

Suddenly feeling like he's alone, like he's missing you even though you've only left him a few seconds ago.

Why the fuck is he feeling this way already?

He shakes it off and leaves, brushing through the people that are still crowding around the front of the auditorium. He has to snake past a few, feeling awkward at the random contact he has to make just to get by—

"Ayo!" He hears a familiar voice call out just as he's made it through the crowd. He stops and turns over his shoulder, spotting Mingi coming towards him. "Dude, I didn't know you were coming."

"Uh, yeah." He gives Mingi a dap. Looking past Mingi's shoulder, he sees Seonghwa and San looking over— probably talking shit about him as they speak. To each their own. Yunho could really care less what Seonghwa thinks about him. He must be livid over you calling it quits, but who else is there to blame for that? He didn't cherish you while he had you, now he feels like he has the right to be upset? He feels like he has the right to be mad at you, at Yunho?

Please.

"Were you here the entire time?" Mingi asks.

"Yeah, I told Y/N I'd come to watch."

"Oh, that's cool." Mingi just nods, but Yunho knows he's thinking about other stuff. Probably his loyalty to Seonghwa, how much he wants to tell him not to pursue you while Seonghwa is sulking. Shit like that. "Yeah, we dropped by to catch their performance too. It was sick."

"Yup, they were great. She did great." Yunho responds, hoping to egg Mingi on in one way or another. If he wants to ask, he should just ask. Lo and behold:

"Cute. So, is that a thing now?"

"Odd question considering Seonghwa has feelings for her." Yunho turns it around on him since, you know, dude tried to talk him out of it the last time they spoke.

"They called it quits. I was assuming it was because of you. Hwa's been all sulky about it." Yunho chuckles a bit hearing the way that it was phrased. They.

"Hm." Yunho hums, no longer wanting to entertain this any further. They could keep guessing all the want, Yunho could really care less about Seonghwa and his feelings. "Anyway, I need to head out. Catch you later?"

"Hop on Valorant tonight!" Mingi easily switches the topic just as Yunho is about to turn on his heel and walk the hell away.

"Maybe. We'll see." Yunho gives him one last nod before walking off to his car. Mingi heads back to his friends, greeting a few more people on the way over.

"I'll never understand why you're friends with him." Seonghwa furrows his brows at him and shakes his head.

"He's cool people." Mingi shrugs, unsure of how else to respond. Mingi really did enjoy being friends with Yunho. They don't talk too often, and their conversations aren't typically heavy or incredibly insightful, but Mingi likes the good vibes he gets from Yunho. He's genuine and he's real, and Mingi knows that's hard to find over the years. Don't get him wrong; he feels the same with Seonghwa and San. They mainly have more of the same interests as Mingi does, which is why they're stuck to each other like glue. They like partying and going out, they like drinking. Getting into wild shit from time to time. You know how it goes.

Overall, Mingi still respects Yunho, and he finds comfort in their friendship. It's different from the rest.

Yunho's drive home is quiet, but pleasant. OG Heartthrob by Majid Jordan comes up on the rotation, and he finds himself lowly singing along. His thoughts start wandering over to you, smiling a bit to himself like a dumbass when he remembers how happy you looked on stage. How happy you looked seeing him. How happy you looked when he gave you the rose.

You look good happy.

And Yunho loves being the reason you're happy.

He kinda wishes he could keep being the reason you're happy.

He kinda misses you.

But, he shakes off the thoughts when he pulls into the lot and passes your building. He shouldn't be jumping to conclusions, no. For all he knows, you're probably just being incredibly nice to him, and you're probably still trying to find the right words to let him down easily.

You probably wouldn't feel the same way as him.

Yunho lets out a sigh when he pulls into his usual spot, sitting in the driver's seat for a minute even though the car is set to park. He's so torn about this. Because as much as he wants to say it out loud, he's afraid to.

"How'd it go?" Yunho hears as soon as he steps through the door. To his surprise, it's another night when Yeosang is sitting on the couch, indulging in a show. He's eating some takeout laid out on the coffee table in front of him while Yunho sets his things aside.

"Good. They did really good."

"I've seen a bit of a performance before. They are pretty good." Yeosang looks over at him as Yunho leans near the patio door, trying to make sense of the show Yeosang has on.

"Mhm."

"How come you aren't hanging out?"

"She's eating with the team and their families. I actually met her mom and sister earlier." Yeosang's eyes widen a bit.

"No shit?" Yeosang smirks. "That's serious."

"What do you mean?" Yunho chuckles confusingly. "People meet family members all the time."

"Yeah, but you know. I always feel like people get introduced if they mean something to the person." Yunho cocks a brow up, listening to Yeosang's reasoning. He can be quite the person, but Yunho does enjoy their conversations when they come up. "She didn't have to introduce you. But, cause you mean something to her, she did."

"Uh, that or maybe just cause her sister noticed the rose I bought her?"

"My guy." Yeosang smiles and shifts topics. "You did it?"

"I wanted to." Yunho shrugs.

"When are you hanging out with her next?"

"She invited me to this little movie night thing they're doing soon."

"Honestly, I say go for it."

"Go for what?"

"Y/N."

"She just ended things with Seonghwa."

"Okay, but that wasn't even considered anything in my very honest opinion. Just a good girl who got wrapped into a dude's schemes. Nothing more, nothing less." Yeosang looks at him. "I think she likes you too."

"I never said—" Yeosang rolls his eyes.

"You didn't have to. I can see it. And by the sounds of it, you seem to make her genuinely happy. She wants you around, she wants to hang out. She enjoys having you around. Don't skip on the chance." Yeosang stands and stretches. "Seonghwa's loss. It's not your problem." Yunho quietly nods.

"Thanks."

"Yup." Yeosang switches the TV off. "Anyway, I gotta finish some stuff before I call it a night."

"Not hopping on League tonight?"

"Nah. For once." Yeosang chuckles and walks off to his room, gently shutting the door behind him. Yunho pushes himself off of the wall and tidies up in the living room a bit before walking into his own room. He really doesn't find himself getting hungry right now, and feels like he could just use this time to be lazy— catch up on a few shows or movies he wanted to watch. He grabs his pajamas and heads to the bathroom to get freshened up and ready for bed, shutting off the lights in the hallway before retreating into his room for the night. He slips himself under the covers, sheets messily pulled up to his chest. He scrolls through his phone, wondering if he should check up on you or let you know that he'll be here watching a movie until you're home.

He doesn't wanna do too much, but he just misses your company.

You.

Yeosang is right.

He should go for it.

Yunho has given himself enough time to move on and work on himself over the years. In the end, he does wanna be the reason why you smile. He does wanna be the reason why you're happy.

♣︎ taglist: @s-nsanshine @soupbinlily @tyongff-ff @jiminiscricket @g1g1l @staytinyinmybpack @woomyteez @gfksz @bitchwhytho @savluvsmingi @thisisntmyrightera @hyukssunflower @miriamxsworld @tmtxtf @kuromibabe04 @lmnhead @carrietwrites @tournesol155 @persphonesorchid @txt-yaomi @marsattacks @mxnsxngie @h-nji @mundayoonimnida @jalapeno-princess @nakiiko @asjkdk @kunikku @idkwgoh @kyeos4ng @agust-d2 @araknoid @bintific @primoppang

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fir3ylolol · 6 months

Note

Hiii!!

I was inspired by your "Sleeping in Seattle" idea and I totally thought about Johnny with a screenwriter SO. If you could write like a small thing (or a biggish sorta thing 🥺🫶) on it, I'd love to read it and eat it and hold it. Honestly I'm only thinking of him all but dragging the reader onto the set to help with the script and screenplays and such.

Anyway, I love your writing!!!! Thank you for reading this.

- Ronny

sunset boulevard

pairing: Johnny Cage x Screenwriter!Reader

summary: johnny drags you onto set with him, but not without ulterior motives

a/n: thought this would be a cute little fluff-y piece, tried to stay brief with it. but thank u ronny!

word count: 587

Ao3

Johnny is practically pulling you onto the lot, a wide smile plastered across his face. Your feet are dragging, trying to wave to the people you’re rapidly passing. He stops next to the craft table, grabbing water for both of you. You follow him as he makes his rounds, his usual charisma on display as he introduces you to everyone with a wide smile and plenty of praise. He seems proud just to stand next to you, holding you tight as he watches you talk to the director. It’s not like you’re unknown, it’s just that you’re not very social. Well, not as social as him. But talking only lasts so long, as it’s time to film again. This scene doesn’t need Johnny, as he stays next to you. But you can see his eyes lighting up, truly thrilled to be able to watch such incredible performances. You feel him leaning closer to you, whispering in your ear as softly as he can, “What do you think?” You nod, giving a small thumbs up. But he whispers again, trying to lead you to what he really wants, “What about the story? You know, from your professional opinion.”

You scrunch your face up slightly, making a so-so motion with your hands. You can see the famous twinkle in his eyes, and you suddenly start to get worried. Which was the right feeling, as the second the scene is over, you’re gone, being pulled around again. You nearly crash into him, and he suddenly stops as he reaches his trailer, looking back at you happily. “Wait here!” He rushes inside, quickly returning with a large heavy script. “Here you go,” he nearly shoves it in your arms, the weight causing you to shift slightly. “You should give it a look,” he winks at you, arm wrapping around your shoulders. “Jonathan Carlton…” you look up at him, scolding tone. He puts his hands up, smile only growing wider. “Uh oh, the full name? I’m in trouble now. Sweetheart, I just think you’re absolutely brilliant. And I know that if you worked on this, it would go from cool to face-melting-ly awesome!”

His enthusiasm is intoxicating, and you find yourself nodding in agreement. He almost squeals, jumping towards you to plant a kiss on your cheek before pushing you into the trailer. He sits you down at the vanity, placing a pen down so you can edit. You wait for him to sit, but he stays standing above you, watching you intently. Knowing him, that won’t change soon. So you write, slashing words and rephrasing lines so it sounded like an actual person was saying them. Johnny chimes in occasionally, always in agreement with your changes. He almost cheers as you cut one specific line, loudly proclaiming, “I knew that line sucked! It always sounded so blocky and weird! Ugh, honey, you’re a genius.” You finally finish your work, letting out a sigh as you close the script. But it remained there for only a second later, as Johnny snatched it up, already in the doorway. “Wait here, ok? I’m gonna go give this to the director and tell him that you improved his movie tenfold. And when I get back, we’re talking salary, ok? Such beautiful prose deserves compensation.” He pauses shortly, smiling at you with pure joy, before leaving with a cry of, “I love you!” He’s gone, and you can hear him yelling excitedly as he goes, screaming out, “I told you it was a shit line, man!”

#johnny cage #fir3y requests #fir3y asks #mortal kombat #johnny cage x reader #mk x reader #x reader #johnny cage mk1

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azurevi · 1 year

Text

anchor

pairing: leona x gn!reader

summary: promise rings, some backstory i sprinkled on a whim, a few stuff from the tamashina-mina event. 3k

note: diversity loses! tormented writer posts more leona fluff despite being consumed by angst ideas. @twistedchatterbox gave me the idea of promise rings a while back then so here’s something i made! it’s a bit messy cz i wrote most of this on bus rides lol

This day couldn’t get any better, Leona thought, putting aside the fact that he was at a festival he really didn’t want to attend, and that he had been surrounded by his curious schoolmates the whole day, forcing him into the role of a tour guide. At least he got to show you around the place he’d grown up in, shower you with cuisine after cuisine that you couldn’t find anywhere else, and bring you to a hot spring that made him feel that his bones had been broken down and resembled again, all of which you responded with the utmost enthusiasm and amazement. Despite the love-hate sentiments he held for this place, knowing that you enjoyed the tour put him in quite the good mood.

Also, he was definitely putting ‘roadtrip’ on his non-existent bucket list now.

A content sigh slipped out as he sat sprawled out in his seat, head resting on his fist, a single strand of hair falling over his attentive gaze. Everyone had had their fill at dinner and was enjoying the dance show. Melodies swirled and clashed in the air, accompanied by the soft fluttering of the dancers’ outfits. His focus was, however, not on their flawless performance, but rather on the giggling group in front of the stage.

You were linking arms with Kalim, following his ecstatic steps with a touch of clumsiness. Lilia was linked to your left, even though he was just doing his weird moves that somehow resembled a bird. Grim was somewhere else, struggling to mirror the dancers and trying his absolute hardest not to get kicked at by accident. Once in a while the music would speed up, and you would all scramble to match the tempo, laughing when your legs bumped into each other.

The unbridled bliss on your face was as bright as the afternoon sun. Amidst the collision of songs, he made out your laughs as though they were a melody written especially for him. If the hotel was vacant but for the both of you, he would’ve jumped out of his seat and danced with you just so he could see how much you were enjoying yourself up close. Ideally he would have the song changed to something much gentler for him to soak in the moment under the glorious starry night.

“…Leona, are you listening?” Vil’s voice dragged him out of the little fantasy he was conjuring in his head.

“I stopped listening the moment you brought up your something-something products.” He said, which was only half a lie. Even when he was distracted, he picked up a few lines, like how the climate here could've very well ruined Vil’s skin without the lotions he’d brought and how all the sweating could’ve melted his makeup had they not been waterproof. Basically just different words to show that he’d come prepared.

“Of course you did,” Vil rolled his eyes. Following Leona’s gaze, he glanced back and forth between the trio and the man beside him. “Lilia is quite good at dancing, isn’t he?”

“Yea.” The answer came mindlessly. By the time Leona realized himself, Vil already had that annoying smirk on his face.

Darn you for distracting him.

Vil took a sip out of his glass, letting the fresh juice swirl in his grip. “Even to this day, I still can’t believe that they are into you of all people.”

“Is that jealousy I hear?”

“Not in a thousand years.” He put down the drink. “It’s just that they’re bright and easy-going and all, and you’re… well, you’re you. You act like you don’t want anyone breathing near you most of the time.”

That’s true, to some extent. Leona had found your presence a handful at first, but you managed to sneak into his life anyways.

“But there are times when your feelings become painfully obvious,” as if remembering something, Vil’s assumed an accusatory tone. “Like today, when you made all of us feel like third wheelers while you went on this lovey-dovey date with them. But really, that just proves my point. Whatever doubts that I initially had about you two… they’re wrong.”

“Do you have a point?” Leona frowned. As much as he would like to call him out for sticking his nose into his business, he knew that he was just looking out for you. Ever since VDC, you two had got on friendly terms, and that meant he was going to care for you anytime he saw fit. It was his way of showing his love.

“If you’re really serious about them, you should put a ring on it.”

He’d never turned his head this sharply. “What?”

“Well, not to straight up propose, just get promise rings or something. A lot of my co-stars wear them to show loyalty and devotion. It’s a good way of telling someone that you’re committed.”

“I am committed.” He shifted in his seat. “And they know that.”

“It’s just a suggestion. Take it or leave it.” That was the last thing Vil had to say before Lilia proposed having a karaoke session, forcing him to intervene.

…Of course you knew that he was committed. He’d made it abundantly clear, from remembering every little thing you’d mentioned in passing to showering you with gifts. He showed up to most school events for you, and he stood up for you whenever someone was dumb enough to pick fights. The list went on— surely he’d made it apparent enough how much you meant to him.

So why were you knocking on his door at 2 in the morning, with a hesitation that reminded him of when Cheka would stick his head into his room in the morning to see if he was awake?

“Hey. I know you’d rather sleep by yourself, but I can’t really fall asleep, so I was wondering if you’d have space for one more?”

He rubbed his eyes, brain still a bit fuzzy, and moved to one side of the bed. You scampered inside with the blanket wrapped around you like a cocoon and dipped your weight into the mattress.

“Was the bed uncomfortable?” He asked, spreading his arm so you could roll right next to him.

“No, I just can’t get used to new ones.”

And with that, you were off to dreamland in a few minutes.

The patterned ceiling stared right back at Leona. Where he’d just fallen asleep effortlessly, there was now a recurring thought romping in his mind.

It wasn’t the first time he’d shared a bed with you. As a matter of fact, Ruggie often found him hogging you while he’s napping in the botanical garden, clinging to you like you were a life-sized plush. But most of the time, he was the one initiating it. He’d thought that it was enough of a demonstration of how he wanted you around, but in reality—

“I know you’d rather sleep by yourself.”

Just how did you come to that conclusion? It wasn’t even the first time you’d said something similar. You’d always been on the cautious side, tip-toeing around the topic of intimacy like you were afraid that you’d be ‘too much’.

Perhaps worse still was the fact that he’d never been straightforward about his feelings. They had always been wrapped in other gestures, hidden under layers of seemingly ordinary words. Who was to say that they couldn’t have been lost on you?

“Put a ring on it.”

At the end of the day, it was Vil’s fault for planting the idea in his head.

—

Sneaking around the palace was child’s play to Leona. He’d mastered the art of hiding in dark shadows and unseen corners since a tender age, when the guards and chamberlains would talk behind his back. Plus, nothing much had changed inside the palace. They were really driving home the idea of preserving the past.

Minor changes had been done to his room from the weekly cleaning, but otherwise everything was as he remembered. He made light steps to his empty desk and pulled open the drawer, searching for a jewelry box. Within were dozens of trinkets that would make Ruggie’s eyes twinkle like stars, from pendants to bracelets, all of which Leona had no interest in wearing.

All except this. He fished out a brown pouch and flipped it upside down. Two identical rings fell right into his palm. Each was a bit chunky, with an untainted emerald embedded in the golden shank. He pulled out his hair tie next, checked the mark he’d made in the middle, and compared the circle it formed with the size of the rings. It was a perfect match, as he’d suspected.

Leona recalled the day he’d gotten them. He was sitting at his mother’s bedside, hands balled into fists on his lap. He recalled her fragile, glass-like smile, recalled the shake in her hand as she removed the rings from her fingers. He was still too young and naive to know what was going on, but he had a hunch.

She had placed them in his parched, dry hand then. His knuckles had been cracked and bruised from earlier that day, when he’d lost control of his unique magic during training. With a wistful sigh, she ran feathery touches on the cuts, as if she was trying to heal them. But no dice; she would’ve healed herself had she possessed that sort of power.

“What are these for?” He clenched the golden rings in his chubby fingers. They looked ordinary, just like any other accessories the chamberlains like to throw on him before grand ceremonies. The only thing that stood out were the stones, which seemingly matched his eyes.

“When you find someone who feels like home, and they feel the same about you, give them the rings to show your feelings.”

“Do you mean I have to marry them?”

She laughed at his uneasy grimace— a sound that had yet to be lost in the currents of time. “Of course, or else they’ll go away forever.”

Young Leona immediately stuffed one of the rings back into her hand, “Then you must keep one! This way you’ll never go away from me, right?”

It would take a few more years down the road for him to understand why her eyes welled up at his words, or why one day Kifaji lifted him up in his arms and rushed him to her bedside, why that was the only time he would ever see her again. It was then that he realized that those rings were not charged with magic or blessings. They were just gold imbued with grief.

“What are you doing here, Prince Leona?”

Kifaji was standing at the doorway, hands hidden behind his back. God knew how long he’d been watching. Leona must’ve been so absorbed in his little treasure hunt to have not picked up his footsteps.

“You sound awfully accusatory. This is my room, isn’t it?” He slid the rings back into the pouch and pulled at the string to seal it.

Kifaji watched him pocket it. “Those are your mother’s rings, aren’t they?”

It seemed like his keen observation hadn’t been lost in time. “So what if they are?”

“Well. I can’t and won’t say anything since they’re your possessions. But curiosity beats me, so I must ask: what do you intend to do with them?”

“I intend to wear them, cause that’s how rings are supposed to be used,” Leona nudged the drawer shut with his knee, feeling a bit irritated by the questions.

“Yes, but it’s certainly been a while. Why your mothers’ rings in particular, and why now?”

He sighed. Nothing ever went past Kifaji’s eyes. “Fine. It’s because I’m gonna give one of ‘em to someone else, okay? End of story.”

He strode past the chamberlain out of the door, but the latter persisted, catching up rapidly. There was a moment when he was side by side with Kifaji, and was a bit astounded by the height difference between them. He never really noticed it before. To think that there was once a time when Kifaji could pick him up like he was nothing but a sack of rice.

“It’s that friend of yours that’s been tagging along, isn’t it?”

Leona decided to focus his efforts on walking.

“I was skeptical at first when you showed up with a bunch of guys that claimed to be your friends. Except for that kid. They seemed different.”

He scoffed. “Why, because they were hugging a cat the whole time?”

“No. Because of the way you treated them.”

“Oh yea? Enlighten me.”

“Remember the mangoes at the Raintree Market?”

And then Leona was strolling through the lively bazaar again, watching his schoolmates try out local fruits. The vendor had planned to give you one half of a mango as he’d done so for the others, but Leona asked for the whole fruit and a knife instead.

“The right way to eat a mango,” he sliced the mango in half, and began cutting squares on the one without the seed. Then he held the fruit on its two ends and pushed the pieces out. “Is to cut it into bite-sized chunks.”

“Don’t you remember? I used to do that for you when you were young. You’d cry and thrash because you despised fruits, so I decided to cut them into tiny pieces and have you eat them while we played chess. You cleared the plate in no time.”

There was a certain tone to Kifaji’s voice that Leona couldn’t quite recognize. All he knew was that he was suddenly aware of the aged hunch of his back. Where he used to race him through the palace with ease, he was now panting with the efforts to keep up with his long strides.

Leona slowed down a little to let him catch his breath.

“As the chief chamberlain, I do have the duty to ensure the integrity of anyone affiliated with the royal family. But I’m guessing you’ll do anything to get me off your back, so there’s no point anyways. Plus, if you’re taking out your mother’s rings for them, I suppose there’s no point in doubting your decisions.”

“Good.” Leona’s voice came out quieter than he expected. “I didn’t need you meddling in my business anyways.”

Some guards shot him confused glances when he passed by, but he ignored them. The two of them walked in silence until they arrived at the entrance. The sun had just emerged from the horizon, and was marking the land with a warm tint.

“I’m glad you found someone, Prince Leona.”

“Yea, yea. I got it,” he waved him back into the palace, but stopped just before he could turn around. “Thank you for escorting me.”

Kifaji froze, then let out a light laugh.

“That’s what I do.”

—

Securing the rings turned out to be the easy part. The challenge was in how to present them. Whatever plans Leona had been brewing in his head vanished thanks to the mishaps during the festival. By the time he remembered the rings in his pocket, you were already on your way back to the school campus.

Fine. He just had to adapt. He could book an expensive restaurant and do it with a band playing in the background. He could do it unexpectedly, in a totally unsuspecting occasion. He could recruit help from his dorm members to build a fitting venue.

But somehow, he just couldn’t do it. He’d had everything planned out in said restaurant, but he just couldn’t pull out the rings. He’d brought you to the beachside to watch the sun set, but he couldn’t make out the words. He’d prepared time after time what to say, but they never managed to untangle the feelings inside him.

The longer he held it off, the more he felt that it was a bad idea. What if you didn’t like rings, or what if you didn’t like him enough to dedicate yourself to that kind of promise? Even though they weren’t engagement rings, they still had a certain weight to them. Not to mention they were not any rings, but the ones his very mother used and left in his care.

He should really stop ruminating about this whole thing before he brought the rings back to the palace.

A crunch prompted him to look in your direction. You were lazing on his bed, back turned to him as you binge-watched one of those boring reality shows. There was another crunch.

“Are you eating chips?”

You froze in place. The video on your laptop went on, the audience’s laugh piercing the silence. “No?”

“Show me your hands.”

You shifted, and slowly raised them where he could see. There was salt on your thumb and index finger. He moved forward instantly, nevermind the chessboard next to him. After a bit of wrestling, he snatched the packet of chips from your hold.

“I said no eating on the bed!”

“Oh, so now you can eat on your bed but I can’t?” You argued.

“Yea, that’s the point.” He read the favor on the packet before reaching in to grab one for himself.

“Hypocrite.” You rolled your eyes and held your hand out. As he gave it back, you caught a glimpse of something red on his finger. “Hey, what’s that?”

It was a cut, shallow but precise. It must've happened when he was pulling at the packet. He hadn't even realized it at the moment, but now it was starting to sting a little, with a bit of pink smeared on the flesh around it.

“A papercut,” he shrugged. “It’s nothing.”

“Don’t papercuts sting?” You paused the show and leaned in to check its depth.

“A bit. I’ll just avoid wetting it.”

“Nah, you should put a bandaid on it.”

“It’s a teeny cut.”

“My point stands.” Seeing as he wasn’t planning to do it himself, you sighed and threw your torso off the bed. "This is why you should never steal my chips, you know."

His steely eyes followed as you reached for the desk, or specifically, the drawer on the bottom, where he’d been keeping the rings. You didn’t seem to notice the addition of the porch to the miscellaneous mess inside, as you soon pulled out an unopened box of bandaids.

“May I have your hand, your majesty?” You gave him the best smolder you could muster, which just looked absurdly humorous. He complied regardless, letting you have your fun.

“Mm. I’ve never seen a cut this deep in my years of being a healer, your majesty,” you nodded meaningfully and ripped the box open. “I must subject you to the most effective medicine I have here: a magical band-aid.”

“You’re ridiculous.” He said despite stifling a smirk at the name you'd been using on him.

“And you’re in a life and death situation here, so I prefer that you don’t take this lightly.” You peeled off the seal and lined up the cotton with the wound, acting with a meticulousness that mismatched the insignificance of such a small injury. Strands of hair cascaded down your face, and he pushed them out of your face.

Well, wasn’t it just wonderful to have your attention solely on him. He wouldn’t even have batted an eye at something as trivial as this, but you took it upon yourself to care for him anyways, like you always did.

His gaze fell from your face to the band-aid around his finger. Had he been more distracted, he wouldn’t even have noticed that you’d been working around his ring finger, on his left hand no less. And he knew it wasn’t supposed to mean anything, but as you smiled proudly at your flawless work, he couldn’t help but feel warmth crawl towards his heart.

It dawned on him then: the only thing more wonderful than having you pamper him over a tiny papercut, was to have you do it for the rest of his life. Even on days when he couldn't care less about himself, to have you look after him all the same. The knowledgedidn't come as a spike of adrenaline or in the form of an epiphany. It felt like a moment of clarity, like the wind's kisses against a wind chime.

“Y’know what this looks like?” He asked as you threw the band-aids back into the drawer.

“What?”

“A ring.”

You shot him an incredulous look. “It looks like anything but a ring.”

“Touché. It did feel like you were putting one on me though,” he stopped you just before you could shut the drawer, and rummaged through the mess blindly. Finally, his hand grasped something velvety. “To prove my point…”

The light-hearted smile fell from your face as you watched him take the content out. It was a bit ludicrous now, to think that after all the time spent creating the perfect atmosphere, he was just going to basically-propose-to-you on a whim, but there was no moment better than this. The gold weighed like rocks in his hands, but heavier were the words brewing in his chest.

“My mother left me these rings and told me to give one to someone I want to spend my life with,” he gauged your surprised reaction, “And I know it’s still early for us to even think about stuff like this, but I haven’t been this sure of anything for a while, so I gotta say it now. You’re the person I want to grow old with, and this will not change no matter if it's a good day or a bad day. I want to go to sleep and wake up to you every day, and I want you to know that there’s nothing that I want more than to be with you if you'd let me.”

He took your left hand in his, his thumb instinctively running over your skin. “So, would you let me take care of you for the rest of time?”

Your bewildered expression slowly shifted, and your mouth curled into a bright beam. “I say, that sounds like a wonderful future.”

The band fitted around your finger so flawlessly, it could’ve been made with you in mind. You planted a kiss on the ring on his hand, and the gold seemed to glimmer, now coated with not just his mother’s, but also your love.

As you pulled him close, a gush of warmth seeped into his heart, claiming its spot in the depths of his feelings. Perhaps this was exactly where home was— with your arms wrapped tightly around him. Maybe one day, he could even build a home of his own, rooted in nothing but the certainty you'd given him.

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #leona kingscholar #leona kingscholar x reader #sie writes

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maggstar · 1 year

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𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬

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𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 18+, mni DNI!

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: a short practicer after hours was the goal of tonight, until she came.

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: smut, getting caught masturbating, oral (f. receiving), dom reader, Heeseung is a pervert.

𝐖𝐂: 2k

𝐀/𝐍: Hellooo, this one is for my love @hee-pster. I hope you like this short fic hehe.

Please leave any sort of feedback: reblogging and commenting is the best for me, so let me know!!

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Heeseung had been practicing the choreography for the new comeback for a few hours now, hitting replay whenever he encountered a mistake. The studio was quiet, a few stomps here and there accompanied by his heavy breath and the pleasing melody of the song. At that point, he had lost track over time, fully engaging in the workout. Their comeback was right around the corner, and he spent the last days either in the studio or here.

He kept rewinding his parts in the performance video of the choreography as there was a constant necessity to perfect his execution, drilling to the max to improve any lacking compartment.

As he rewatched that one part in the video, he began analyzing the woman who was the choreographer, studying the movements. She flawlessly delivered her (his) parts that it was almost mesmerizing. Heeseung couldn't help but repeat the few seconds of her lines, the corners of his mouth curving up at her sight.

The young lady was relatively new in the company, getting assigned to his group first. The introduction was a memorable moment, in which he could still remember the nervous girl, who was particularly anxious about the impression she would leave. After a few classes, she realized how outgoing the boys were and how enjoyable it had become over the past weeks.

It certainly made him happy to find out about the choice of members her team had made. Seeing his name tag on her for the newest performance video awoke a weird feeling because he knew it wasn't a random selection, and Heeseung couldn't stop thinking about it. He had heard overheard the conversation of the dancers after one class, where she revealed her great adoration for the group, specifically to him. For some reason, being her bias enchanted a foreign sentiment, which motivated him to work even more.

After that, Heeseung noticed his enjoyment of attending the practices growing. Others were seemingly happier as well, so the atmosphere had drastically changed. The little hellos and faint smiles after they had finished always managed to speed up his heartbeat, scoring over the adrenaline. His eyes would occasionally land on the teacher, observing her body hitting each beat precisely.

They were sharp but energetic, perfect for the intensity of the dance. The fact this was her first time in the industry was exceptionally awing, given the difficulty of having boy groups as a designation. She was keen on leading the practices, always carrying an uplifting spirit.

He remembered how he and a few members came early to the lesson today, interrupting a little dance battle the team had going on. They were mostly messing around, but she and what he assumed to be her best friend were taking it seriously. Songs kept shuffling, and the two didn't stop moving around, having a choreo for every single one. Everyone was hyping them up, the vibe escalating through the roof from the number of boosters.

When the genre switched to a sensual one, they went all in, showcasing their power without hesitation. It was challenging to only focus on the performance after realizing his vision soon darted on her body in an unwanted pattern.

Her confidence amazed him, not minding the sudden attention of the males. That was the most attractive fact, how she would make a mere provocative move and laugh it off as if it didn't do anything to him. Only he knew about the awkward situation in his pants, and covering it in those grey sweatpants was an impossible mission.

It only worsened with each confidence boost she had, becoming more open an relaxed with expressing herself. He didn't know if it was how she slowly stood up after bending over or the discreet wink she'd sent that made his dick tug so hard.

The only thing he could concentrate on now was those tight pair of leggings she was wearing in the video. He had the perfect opportunity to observe the attributes God had given her, definitely taking his time making her. Long legs with muscular thighs, not the usual scrawny type he would encounter.

Thankfully, he had brought a cap to be discreet about his intentions during class. To his embarrassment, it wasn't the first time he had done this. In almost every lesson he attended, a different type of cap topped his outfit, never having skipped one without wearing it.

The scene beneath now only laughed in a mocking pattern, prompting the light switch. This place wasn't certainly the most comfortable spot, the chances of getting caught being high. However, it had been too many hours, and it wouldn't leave until he took control of the situation. He wasn't proud of it either, but each second his mind wandered back to her image, the problem grew bigger. It's why his mind was roaming the whole time, and he had to practice secludedly because his brain photographed different things during dance practice.

There wasn't a time when something had interfered with his work, especially when the date was this close. What happened today threw him off in a way he couldn't explain. It wasn't a disappointment, but rather a surprisement - a woman had managed to distract him without even trying.

He should have known from the day she had first spoken to him because that's when he fell in. Her honey voice conveyed softly every time, going in deeper tones with frustration, almost forcing him to fail to acquire the level. It still kept echoing in his ear: his name between her plump lips covered in a dark shade of ruby red. That gentle call, he could hear it so well.

"Heeseung?" it rang through his fingers, causing another wave of warmth in his chest. The soft floral scent following her around splashed through, imagination dragging into a believable fantasy.

"Heeseung?" he heard it more clearly this time, a bit closer even, almost as if the distance between imagination and reality compressed. The adrenaline in his system pierced through, sending vibrations to his length at the thought of her being here.

"Heeseung!" the thin glass between his vision broke, eyelids retrieving to uncover a tall figure standing ahead with a worried face. At first, he didn't understand the displayed puzzlement, but the heat in his hand answered it. Getting caught appeared to be a better alternative in the dream world than reliving it at the moment. Before you could even study the screen, it went black, disappearing in the shadows of mortification.

"You ok?" you asked, unable to locate his face in the darkness, trying to adjust to the sudden lack of light.

"Yes, I was just practicing for a bit" the hand in his boxers secretly slipped out, his waistband ruining the attempt at discreetness.

"In the dark?" the question caused another eyebrow to raise in a questioning matter.

Entering the room this late to encounter a startled Heeseung sitting in the corner with a computer in his lap was definitely not on your to-do list, still surprised by the unexpected encounter.

"Oh, yeah, um, I was about to leave anyway, so." The sooner he got out, the less awkward this would be. Without a second thought, he gathered his things, standing up to leave. You scoffed at his demeanor, grabbing his T-shirt to unravel your plans.

"You really think you're just going to walk out of here after that?" your tight grip on his crotch caused him to yelp, the firm push causing his back to hit the mirror. The unforeseen contact on his erection sent him to another dimension, gradually getting clutched in your hand.

"You think I didn't hear those pathetic whimpers from outside?" the frustration he had craved before had now arrived, taming around his ear in a low grunt. Heeseung could feel the hair on his arms standing up, the inability to witness the forthgoing actions making him dizzy.

"Or see what you were watching?" he gasped at the realization, probably the picture having reflected on the mirror. Your lips brushed over his helix, playing with it between your teeth.

"Or what you were doing during it?" you bit on the cold flesh, causing him to quiver out of shock. The heat flushing through his system only intensified as your breath caressed his neck, quiet gasps dodging an attempt at communication. There wasn't much to be said since you had caught him, having to face the consequences you were about to set.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't report you right now." The hold traveled upwards, gradually wrapping all fingers around his neck to pull closer. He couldn't see your face, but the breathing balanced of his mouth, standing inches away from each other.

"I'll do whatever you want, just don't let anyone find out, please." The helplessness in the sentence made you smirk, the begging appealing more than anticipated.

"Whatever?" you repeated the word, the locked ideas releasing to spice up the night.

"Yes," he sighed out of desperation, worried about getting exposed to his members and the staff about his perversity.

"Get on your knees, then," you switched spots, resting your arms on his shoulders to guide them lower. The excitement in his stomach doubled at comprehending the situation, fully surrendering to you.

"You know what to do" was the cue for his hands to finally roam over you, grasping the thighs he had been drooling over for the past hours. They were firm, strong enough to squeeze anything between them. The lewd image of being placed between and suffocated flashed as he moved around, pushing behind to reach your back. He mentally prepared himself for what was about happen amidst pulling down the leggings with your panties, leaving your bottom exposed for him.

His hands made their way back to your bare legs, brushing over the soft skin to move up bit by bit, wishing there had been light to capture the portrait. He grazed over your intimate part with his finger, smiling at your body shaking in response. Out of impatience, you grabbed his hair and pushed him towards it, sensing the mark of his lips, which only intensified the need to feel his tongue.

He heard your yearning, opening his mouth to grant the wish by spreading the accumulated saliva on your clit. A quiet moan slipped out of you at the contact, having been touch deprived for too long. You let him do wonders down there, feeling his tongue traveling up and down, teasing your entrance from time to time, taking all of you in to suck the pleasure out of it.

He took your leg and placed it over his shoulder, gaining the required access to do his job. The cries of satisfaction only boosted him to continue, moaning into your pussy to relieve the bottled-up neediness. He imagined how your face had to look, all scrunched up from the delight, begging for more because it couldn't get enough. The lewdness wiped off the innocence that usually sat there, a seductive appearance substituting instead, enjoying the control.

"Faster," you groaned, biting your bottom lip to suppress any unwanted noise from coming out. Heeseung did as you said, not wasting time to achieve your climax quicker. The taste it left on his tongue was addictive, coming back for more each time, not minding you pushing him even deeper. His mind was too focused on pleasuring to even comprehend the lack of oxygen in his chest, losing himself in the moment. He kept slowly sliding his tongue inside you, swallowing the juices flowing down his throat, smiling at the contentment.

"Fuck, don't stop doing that," you encouraged as you didn't want him to stop, the feeling of it entering and slipping out at an unhurried pace completely breaking you. It was embarrassing how your walls clenched around it whenever he thrust in, never having experienced this way of a cunnilingus. Thus, your climax approaching made sense, and Heeseung understood when you began rubbing against his nose bridge.

He let you use him as you wish, enjoying the eager moans you delayed, changing each time you got closer. When you did, you practically ripped the hair out of his skull from the overstimulation he gave you by licking all of your fluids.

"Stop, stop, stop," you pushed him away, attempting to catch a breath since he didn't give you a proper break. He grinned, standing up amidst acquiring the remains on his lips and chin, making sure you heard the sounds as a message that he enjoyed all of it.

"Did I do a good job, ma'am?" his breath teased against your ear this time, hearing the cocky smile on his face. You turned to brush your lips against his, panting at the intimacy.

"I'm not sure, you will have to show me more," he chuckled at the invitation, giving a soft peck as he wrapped his arm around your waist.

"Oh, I thought you would never ask."

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Taglist: @end-hyphen, @hee-pster, @jakeswifeyy, @gegeetime, @heerated, @jayked

𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧! ^^

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@maggstar

#minors: dni #enhypen smut #heeseung smut #enhypen hard hours #enhypen headcanons #enhypen scenarios #enhypen timestamps

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babygrave · 9 months

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Not to be part of too much discourse, but given the recent state of Ethel Cain’s fan base, I wanted to give my experience as a pretty early fan of hers.

I found Hayden’s music when she opened for Nicole Dollanganger in Chicago on the heart shaped bed tour. I believe Nicole or someone in her circle retweeted a video of Hayden performing that night and I really loved her voice. This was just a few months before golden age came out.

In 2020 she started doing a lot of instagram lives. Being this was pre inbred and crush, there was usually just a small group of people asking her questions and just chatting. These lives were really chill and people were usually really respectful and nice. She was always really sweet to everyone and it was a nice environment. Sometimes she would do little performances on there as well.

A lot has obviously changed since then, but I really hate that Hayden can’t have that relationship with her fans anymore because people have started severely disrespecting her boundaries. Reading her recent interview where she talks about people trying to get close to her friends and family just to get a shot at being her bestie or whatever is so gross.

(Plus I’m pretty sure her friend Salem tweeted about something like this a few years ago so it isn’t even new behavior)

Over the years, I’ve had to watch someone who had such a close relationship with her fan base recede from interacting with them because people decided their weird parasocial relationship with her warranted behavior ranging from unhinged to creepy.

I feel really lucky that I got the chance to speak with her quite a few times over the years, and she’s never been anything but incredibly kind to me, but here’s the thing: we aren’t friends. If I ran into her on the street, she’d have no idea who I am. We as fans have a very one sided relationship with her. Love her for her art and personality, but realize you don’t know her and she doesn’t know you. If the things you’re sending her would be weird to send to a complete stranger, refrain from saying it.

#ethel cain

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m1ssunderstanding · 3 months

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Get Back Rewatch 55 Years On: Day 14

Who is this talking to Ringo? Press? A boy scruff? Someone who wants their project produced by Apple? He tries George too.

Again, I love the "freak-out" as John calls it. They really could've had so much fun together under different circumstances. (Different being neither of them ever dated John) But John's so sweet saying, "Id like it to be part of her new LP. Our new LP."

I wonder what Robert Fraser thought of the beard.

Why are we playing 20 Flight Rock now, Paul? It's just overlayed over a montage to change "scenes", but I wonder what the real context was.

Billy. What a little ray of sunshine honestly.

"So what should we do that's fun? Besides work?" I feel like every day, John has a little adorable quote, and this is today's. Words to live by.

I don't remember if Get Back includes the "Oh Darling" version where John's answering back between lines in conversation with the lyrics. I sincerely hope so. Peter Jackson was probably like "well I can only include so much homosexuality before people have too many questions."

Ringo, you smooth criminal. I love that he just has this trick he learned as a teenager that the Beatles were all impressed by, back when Ringo was the scary gangster with the car and the beard, and he still does it for them like ten years later. It's so endearing.

Another cute John and Yoko moment: "It's just that screaming all the way." "Poor John." "Yes, it's so terrible." She's teasing him and being sweet to him at the same time. Cuties.

George asks Paul where his Rickenbacker is. "Isn't that one much better?" And Paul makes up some shit about the Hoffner being lighter. You nostalgic little bitch. Poor baby.

John's little guilty look at the camera when he's almost just taken something on film. It's cute. He looks like a naughty kid. But it's kind of a cool moment. It shows just how relaxed and natural he is. He's not performing for or worried about the cameras at all. What we're seeing of him today is just him. You know? Idk I think it's nice.

What's with the little pigeon noises in the middle of a recording, guys? They're so weird smh

Poor Glyn. He's just trying to do his job and he has to deal with fucking Leopold and Leob over here. He gives them some instruction. There's a look between the two of them. And then it's all, "Don't interrupt" "Hey son" "Stahhs when" "Hey" "they're recording. We're bloody Stahhs you know." "Look fuckface. Don't comment." "The cheek." The impenetrable wall of Lennon and McCartney, folks.

"Well, we'll have to do it sitting down. Or we get too excited." It's heartbreaking to me how obvious it is that they're still just having the absolute time of their lives together and that, as John put it, "the minutes are crumbling away."

Literally what the hell is with Dennis smacking Paul's ass (as like a 'good job, your band wants to put your song out as the single' I guess) and nobody reacting? Linda would've been like "ope, time to find a new head of Apple films." (Dave Spinoza on RAM, anyone?) He really does look so proud of himself, though. Happy for you, baby.

Oh, right, that's what Robert thinks. Paul looks like his working class fantasy. (DH Lawrence. Victorian Miner.)

And I'm just going to add this, since Peter Jackson REFUSES. Paul: Can't afford to mess around here, you know. Then

#paul mccartney #the beatles #john lennon #mclennon #ringo starr #george harrison #get back

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nachofuck3r · 5 months

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ᴊᴏʜɴɴʏ ᴄᴀɢᴇ x ɢɴ!ᴘʟᴀʏᴇʀ/ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴꜱ

After a high I flood of demand we are gonna have some of Johnny Cage x Player headcanons!! Because everyone is loved by him, shut up! He loves the player?!!!

CW: meantions of you having a dick (it could also be a strap), lotta dirty talk, mentions of breeding, daddykink, slight degradation. the nsfw section is devided into 4 different categories, Johnny being dom/sub Bottom/Top, so everyone is provided for.

SFW:

First of all I do really hope you are looking for needy, because in game Johnny is so very needy and desperate for you and your attention. He'll do absolutely anything to grab it and impress you. He's already an attention whore when he's not trying to rizz you up. But with you he doubles down, tries legit everything from sweet to sultry.

No touching, means double the verbal affection, so so much flirting. There is not one taunt he doesn't do for you.

"I'm packing more than a punch, baby" "How do I look from behind?'' "Your smile, is my fatality" "What if, next time, you finish me?"

At first you are freaked out and taken aback, when it comes to your attention, that Johnny shouldn't be doing marriage proposals, in the middle of a match. You're game must be bugged in some very weird and fanservice providing way.

If you indulge his advances, by flirting back or taunting him. He's freak! There is no way the sexy person controlling him is also flirting with him?! Over the moon, that's him right then.

But if you don't or actively reject his flirting, he will suspect you are playing hard to get. So he'll most likely double down and get more risque with his propositions.

"You're like, super tiny, man" "I'm not tiny, I'm in a game, but I can, 100% guaranteed, still rock your world"

Banter becomes a regular occurrence, with you all the while, improving your gaming skills and him mostly just longingly staring at you and trying to impress you with taunts, brutalities and special attacks.

"Why didn't you do the fatality?!" "Because you already performed one this round" "what- "On my heart"

Groan

If you get easily flustered and don't like the flirting, DONT change this mans skin/clothes. The teasing will be endless.

"You like dressing me up, baby?" "Stop calling me that I'm a grown person..." "You're right I should be calling you my spouse"

"Are you looking at my ass?" "No, I'm just checking- uhh" "Just admit you want me, it'll make everything so much easier."

Also don't stop maining him. He'll survive if you play other characters but if you do it long term and the come back to him, he'll be twice as needy, a little pissy and a lot more desperate.

"Is it something I did?" "No, I just wanted to play someone else" "So it was something I did?" "What does that farm boy have that I don't?" "A hat" "Not if you dress me up as Illinois"

At first his very obvious, overly flirty self annoyed you incredibly.

Yes he's sexy and he's also technically single.

But he's also in a game so?? What is a guy gonna do.

This is what a guy is gonna do.

NSFW:

Subby Top:

If you like your men whiny but also want them to wreck you, talk about convenient. Johnny is 100% the provider for your needs. Will not stop whimpering and whining outside of sex but when it gets heated. He cannot stop.

"Please, I need to be inside you so bad" "Fuck I just wanna breed you, want to see you so full, please" "I wish you could ride my face, I need you so badly"

Since he's kinda well INGAME, you two find other ways to be intimate, if its just masturbating, you playing with toys mostly.

SUCK HIM OFF! Or well pretend to, seeing you suck on a toy. Boom man is combusted and on the floor. There is nothing he would love more than paint your face with his fuck-juice.

Seeing you ride a dildo will absolutely kill this man, he'll be a needy mess through out every other match he has the same day.

"Sorry, I couldn't stop thinking about you riding my dic-" "Johnny I swear to every god available"

Subby Bottom:

If the thought, of Johnny being inside you isn't your speed, that's fine! He's a flexible and very versatile man. Plus let's be real, he does this stuff anyway. No way, this man hasn't fucked his own ass.

Subspace Johnny is a fucking mess, just picture him endlessly fingering his own hole, very sloppily.

"If only these fingers were your dick!" "I wish you could spurt inside me, I need you so much baby" "Gods, I need that cock in me or else I'll die"

Dramatic as fuck, but these sentences are just scares throughout the fingering. He'll mostly just be a whimpering mess. So it's very likely you'll have to provide the teasing and dirty talk this time around.

The sound of your voice, taunting him, while fucking his own ass, will make him squirt. Makes a mess of his own mansion floor.

"We should do this before every match!" "Be real- ugh as real as can be, you wouldn't win a single match after something like this..."

Dom Bottom:

This is essentielly the cocky and less whiny version of sub bottom.

You can expect so much taunting from this man, especially when he's pounding his own hole. Will not stop god damned talking.

"If there's a way for me to get out of here, the first thing I'll do if ride your fat dick." "Just thinking about your dick makes me cum" "That's a good boy/girl, stroke that dick thinking about my tight ass"

My guy prays every night, that he can become real and actually just absolutely destroy himself on your dick.

"Are you okay? That's the second match you lost today?" "Sorry, I did not get much rest"

Dom Top:

This is kinda the end boss of Johnny Cages sex life, this is just a part of him. This'll happen eventually, of course only if you want to. But being a dominant top is probably something he'll have to do every once in a while.

"I'm gonna fill this tight litte hole with my seed" "You're such a needy whore for me, for your Daddy" "I'm gonna paint your insides so fucking white, flooding you full of me" "You look so good sucking my dick baby, it's like this is what you were made to do"

Of course it's all pretend, it's just you needily fucking yourself in front of a screen. But both you and a man can dream that he is absolutely destroying your hole with his fat dick.

If you have a pussy he'll ask you to slap it, 100% wants to slap your cunt to get it sensitive. It's also like his favorite thing if you can squirt, he wants that all over him, making you squirt is like his main goal (if it's possible). So he'll often have you fingering yourself into an absolute mess.

"One more baby I feel like this is the one"

If you have a dick, he'll want it super sensitive. Will make you fuck your own fist for hours on end, even if you're spent. Bro wants to see you massage your own balls. He gets so excited thinking about you spurting all over your own stomach. Looking so needy and desperate for him.

"Come on, baby. Make a mess of yourself for daddy"

Little plus here for my T-Dick people.

He adores your dick. He'll ask you to show it to him every time you two get intimate. Wants to see you stroke it and finger yourself (only if you're comfortable), he loves how stiff it can get. Wants to get his mouth on it so bad.

"I want to suck you off so bad. Wish I could frot our dicks together, baby"

#johnny cage #x reader #johnny cage fanfiction #mk1 fanfic #mortal kombat fanfiction #x gn!reader #x m!reader

79 notes · View notes

syndxlla · 6 months

Text

best friends don’t look at each other the way we do

A low stakes, high reward and self-indulgent Zelink fan fiction. Canon-compliant. Takes place between both and totk

Chapter Six: This is Home

Read chapter five here

My masterlist

Song: Run To You by Leah Michele

Summary: Link is brought on to investigate a new strange monster plaguing the farmers in Hateno. He is faced with a new type of post-traumatic experience he doesn’t expect to have.

Warnings: canon-typical violence, suspense and horror, PTSD, squint and theres very base-line sexual content, GRAPHIC descriptions of animal mutilations!

Word Count: 3.5k words

Authors Note: I didn’t update for two and a half months and said “lemme give you guys the best chapter yet” (imo). Thank you for being patient with me. I restarted school, closed one musical, opened and closed a 30 performance long run of another musical and literally fell in love with a man 16-years-older than me in that time lol. Also I wrote this in one sitting and I’m starting chapter 7 now 🫡. Its unedited be nice.

Also please do not make fun of me for using a Leah Michele song for this chapter its so good and it works really good so just shut up. Kloveyoubye

The summer starts to get hotter. A week passes and nothing changes, neither of them ever address the hand holding, Link is fixing the hole in the roof and Zelda is reteaching herself how to fix a clock, an activity she originally learned at the age of seven. Everything is so normal, the sun starts to set a little later, and the fireflies have started hatching.

Link never really thought he would end up in a position to do housework. He tried to get Bolson to fix the hole before Link bought it, but it would take a certain number of wood piles and when Link went out to get them he got a little distracted. And by distracted he means ending the sandstorm in the desert caused by the Divine Beast. It just got put on the back burner, and now here he is, using basic tools to hammer in new shingles. He wipes his brow, his shirt off again. He takes a look at the hammer in his hand, thinking about the savage Lynel sword that same hand has swung.

The passage of time is weird.

Maybe he does want to go back to work. Going from Demon slayer to roof repairman in two and a half weeks is a little jarring.

He hears a groan of frustration from inside the house, and makes his way inside, where it's much cooler.

“Everything alright?” He asks, looking at the girl who’s hunched over the kitchen table.

“No, this is absurd.” She slams the machine on the kitchen table. “I can’t remember how to do the most basic thing in engineering ever.” She frowns.

Link chuckles and places a dirty hand on her shoulder as he walks past her. He moves to the water basin and wets a cloth that he wraps around his neck. “I don’t know the first thing about that stuff, so you have me beat.” He shrugs. “Man, what I would give for an hour at Lurelin right now. Or better yet a weekend at Tabantha. I bet the weather there is a comfortable 60 degrees.” He sighs. Trying to slyly put the worm in Zelda’s ear about a possible trip.

Zelda groans, “I agree. I don’t remember it getting this hot.”

“This is just the beginning, wait until it’s the midsummer festival.”

“A festival?” Zelda’s face lights up.

Link nods, “It’s something they started about thirty years ago. It’s right here in Hateno. People from all parts of the kingdom will travel for it.” Link drinks some water, leading against the counter at the hip. Zelda makes special effort not to admire how his obliques curved. “There’s music and dancing, it’s quite fun. I was invited last year as a special guest. The “chosen hero” or something like that.” Link shrugs.

At that moment they hear a sharp knock on their door. It startles both of them. Link moves to answer it, setting the rag and cup down.

“Dantz, what is it?” Link says as he opens the door to a distressed farmer.

“Master Link, so good to see you,” His voice is shaky, “I didn’t know who else to go to.” Link listens more intently, Zelda even stands. “Two more of my cattle have been killed. When I heard you were back in town I knew you could help me. I don’t know who—or what—is killing them, but it's not a moblin. It’s something darker.” He’s speaking a mile a minute.

“Slow down,” Link stops him, “When did this happen?”

“In the night, I came here as soon as I could. They were covered in something… unnatural. Please, Link.”

Link turns back to look at Zelda. “Stay here.”

“What? No. I’ll come with you!” She moves to him and Link stops her. If this is anything like what Cado saw at the castle, he didn’t want her to be anywhere near it.

Link completely turns around and puts his hands on her shoulders, “Zelda, you cannot.” He stays sternly.

“Why? You don’t have to baby me. I can help you.”

“Zel-“

“I’m better! Please don’t leave me-“ Before she finishes the sentence she’s falling back down, like she was going to faint again. She had gotten herself worked up and now her heart was weary again. Link catches her before she falls, her knees knocking together.

“Oh, Goddess.” Dantz says. “Should I help?” He asks and Link snaps, telling him ‘no’ a little too forcefully.

“Zel, come on, let's get you to bed.” He wraps her arm around his shoulder. “Dantz, I’ll be there within the hour. I’m sorry.” Link says in a calmer tone.

“I understand, Link.” He nods and turns to leave.

Zelda can’t get up the stairs and Link picks her up, carrying her up to her room. He places her in bed as she starts to cry.

“Hey, hey it’s okay.” He brushes her hair out of her face. She takes his hand.

“No. It’s not.” She replies. “Stop telling me it’s okay.” She groans. “It’s ridiculous that I can’t do anything without this happening.” It was the second time this week.

“I have to go help them.” His hand is held back by her, but she eventually lets it go.

He turns to leave her, pulling his green tunic over his messy hair, and getting ready for combat. He isn’t even anticipating a fight, but he wants to be ready. He puts his gloves on, and straps both his sword and shield to his back. He even gets his bow ready because he has no idea what it might be. It sounds serious.

It’s the first time he’s been entirely suited-up since the castle. He forgot how natural it feels. He forgot how much he felt like himself.

Zelda has gotten up and stands at the railing of the loft. “Be careful.” She says in a weak voice.

Link looks up at her, he wants to stay here with her and hold her and let her know that it's going to be okay. “Please rest.”

He walks out the door.

The cattle are lying dead in the corner of the pasture. Flies buzz around them. Dantz and Link examine the scene, a pit in both their stomachs.

“What could it be?” Dantz asks.

Link crouches down, getting a closer look. The gunk is a deep maroon color, almost like malice but thinner, almost like a glossy serum as opposed to a thick slime. Link takes a risk and touches a bit of it that was strewn across the grass, rubbing it between his fingers. It didn’t seem to hurt him the way malice did. He sniffs it, it’s rotten and foul. He gags almost immediately. Link wipes his hand off in the grass.

“I’ve never seen anything like this.” He admits. “And I’ve seen a lot.” This was only confirming his worst fears.

“The other ones that were killed were left like this too.” Dantz explains, “There isn’t even any meat taken out of them, only their eyes are gouged out.” He points out.

“Whatever is killing them is doing it for sport.” Link stands back up and folds his arms. “This is bizarre, I must say.” It was starting to be late afternoon, he still had a few hours of sunlight. “What did you do with the other ones that were killed?” Link asks.

“We tried to clean them up and butcher them for food. But the meat inside was rotten, like it was poisoned under the skin.”

Link hears a giggle from behind them and turns around to see the two daughters of the rancher watching them from behind a post. When he catches them staring they both hide.

“How old are your girls?” He asks.

“Siva is eighteen and Catli is sixteen.” Dantz replies. “They are my pride and joy, I can’t let anything bad happen to them.”

Link advances towards them, “Girls.” He smiles, charming as ever. They both sneak out from behind the post, sheepish and giddy. The older steps forward.

“You’re the hero.” She puts her hands behind her back. Link nods.

“Can you girls show me the edge of your property?” He asks, wanting to test a theory. They both happily nod and start to lead him, he notices especially how Siva looks at him as she walks by. She was very agreeable: long, dark and curly hair and alluring eyes. He follows them. They take him past the fence and through the forest, the younger chatting and asking questions about his quests and whatnot. He just smiles and nods, answering with basic “yes’” or “no’s”.

Link’s theory starts to prove right, he sees a set of two acorns on the ground, then a pair of two foot tracks, and eventually, at the end of the property, where two songbirds lay dead at the bottom of a tree, both covered in the same strange goop. Whatever this is, it’s looking for things in pairs. Like two sisters.

Link would never imagine putting these girls in danger, and would send them home in about an hour or two when it started to get dark, he just wanted to lure out whatever was killing with a pair.

He sat down at the base of a tree, and listened as the girls talked themselves up, clearly competing with one another for who can be the most impressive to the hero. Link decides to let them have their fun, it’s not like he was getting this attention from Zelda.

Zelda.

She’s all he could think about. He listens to the girls for a full hour, but doesn’t comprehend a word they’re saying because all he can do is think about the woman he left at home. He wishes he hadn’t left her home, she’s probably sad and lonely. Or maybe she isn’t, perhaps she’s enjoying some alone time. He doubted it, though. He was sure she was fuming at him for just leaving her, for going in such a rush. Proximity can cause problems, maybe this was good for them.

Link must have zoned out because all of a sudden the younger sister was gone, and he was left alone with Siva. This was dangerous territory.

“Where did your sister go?” He asks, clearly uncomfortable.

“Oh! I told her to go get her tapestry to show you! Of course.” Siva says in a tone that was a little too flirty for Link’s liking. She sits next to him, facing him. Link knew the look on her face, and he knew he should stand up and put an end to whatever was about to happen. “Because you know… now we’re alone.” She sighs and leans in.

Stop. Stop. Stop. He tells himself but doesn’t move, he lets her place her lips on his.

Link is not an experienced kisser. He’s had a few drunken nights in the last three years where he ended up in a Gerudo’s bedchamber or a stable-workers hideout, and while those were all agreeable experiences, he’s never actively sought them out. It was always nice to get the tension from his journey off, though.

Link makes the mistake of kissing her back, and she’s sighing into his touch and he’s pulling her in. Being alone with a woman he’s been in love with for three years and not being able to touch her or talk to her the way he wants to has left him with a lot of pent up energy, it felt good to get it out.

Link puts his fingers through her hair, and starts to kiss down her jawline and neck and she’s letting out the prettiest little sounds.

And then he starts to think about Zelda. The sounds Zelda would make, the feeling of her hair intertwined in his fingers, how her lips would feel against his…

Zelda.

“Zelda.” He sighs, and then Savi is pulling away.

“Hm?” She asks, and Link is dazed and confused, thinking with anything other than his brain. He doesn’t know how long they were kissing because suddenly it's much darker outside, and if Dantz caught them like this, Link would be the one hunted down and killed, not whatever monster is out there.

Link immediately feels stupid, this was a rookie mistake. He shouldn’t have let it happen.

“What?” He responds to her, and then out of the corner of his eye, he sees something run behind the tree. “Shit.” He jumps up. “You need to go. Right now.” He pushes her back towards the house. It wasn’t far, she’d be okay. “Please don’t tell anyone about this.”

She nods, also remembering their reason for being out here. She runs back home and Link shakes his head, trying to refocus. He sees it again, it’s fast, moving from tree to tree, but further away. Link grunts and starts to slowly follow it. He isn’t sure if it saw him. It’s tall, and it’s dark. He would guess it’s a Moblin by its size but it's much too fast to be a moblin. Perhaps a wizzrobe? But he could hear its feet on the grass. Link starts the stalk, prowling towards it like a predator.

He doesn’t think it knows he’s following, because he’s able to follow it halfway up Madorna Mountain before he accidentally steps on a branch that snaps loudly. Again, a rookie mistake. Link was out of practice, rusty. He silently curses himself for that. The beast turns around to look at Link, but he’s able to hide behind an oak tree. It was still a little light out, and the lights from down were getting smaller and smaller as they worked their way up the mountain.

Link stayed vigilant. It’s been a long time since he’s had to fight a new enemy, and he wasn’t sure how powerful this was going to be. It gets quiet, he doesn’t hear it move. Even with Link’s impaired hearing, he had a knack for the details, but not today, not now. A cricket chirps but it’s silenced halfway through its sound. The wind goes still. A cloud covers the moon.

He girds up, and moves from behind the tree to keep following it, but he’s met with a horrific sight.

The creature is standing there, about six feet away from Link.

It startles him. He’s met with a feeling of dread.

It’s tall, probably seven feet. It’s hunched down, a humanoid-sort of beast that looks like a shadow covered in the same maroon gloop as the animals.

Link freezes up, he is paralyzed with fear because he knows exactly what it is.

He knows who it is.

It opens its eyes, those awful, yellow, glowing eyes. He chuckles at Link and it fills his skull. It wasn’t quite human, like it was a pile of goo that was regaining its strength and slowly rebuilding itself into a human. Into a phantom.

They stare at one another, his laughter taunts Link. Link can hear his heartbeat in his ears. His palms start to sweat. He is met with the images of three weeks ago. The battle, the castle, the evil.

Ganon.

Or at least some form of him.

He doesn’t move, he just laughs at Link. The boy swallows, and he wants to run, but he rolls his shoulders back.

“Courage and Bravery are two different things.” Zelda’s words ring in his memory.

He grabs his sword.

The Master Sword unsheathes with a light ring, and it glows in the darkness.

In an instant, the monster is screeching and howling like a Lynel and melting away from the light of the sword. The pure power of the holy blade made the beast slowly melt into the ground, like an ice cube in the desert. It covered its eyes, and screlted into the forest, echoing no doubt into town.

Link walked closer to it, waving the blade, spinning it in his hand until the creature was completely put away.

Whatever that was, it isn’t very strong. It will surely get stronger, though. Link had a feeling this was not the end of it. It left behind a puddle of goop. Link’s stomach dropped when he realized why it was killing for sport and in pairs of two. It was probably seeking Him and Zelda. Unable to differentiate what living things were hylian and what was cattle or animals. The stealing of the eyes surely had something to do with it regaining its strength, but what?

How did it know to come look in Hateno already?

After sheathing the sword and thanking the Goddess, Link took a moment to bury the secretment. He still felt sick to his stomach. Why did he freeze up like that?

Maybe that final battle had more of an effect on him than he thought.

He heads home, explaining to Dantz what had happened and what he saw, sugar-coating it a little and just saying it was a ghost. Link wasn’t sure how long it would stay away for, but hopefully long enough he could talk to Impa about it. Clearly the Master Sword was protecting him. He made a special effort to avoid Savi.

When he gets home, he drops his equipment off, pulling his gloves and boots off and leaving it all in his little corner downstairs. He pulls his shirt off. He would sleep out with Epona again tonight, he would need to to avoid the nightmares. His Mare had that effect on him. The feeling of safety and home.

Zelda was asleep, snoring lightly in her bed. He stayed quiet and went to sit at the table, grabbing a baked apple to silence his rumbling stomach. Guilt washed over him as he remembered what he did today. Savi came onto him, but he knows he shouldn’t have let that happen. He was ashamed of his conduct.

The laughter of the phantom rang in his ears. Flashes of its grin and glowing eyes projected in his mind. He felt ill.

Link disassociated. He sat at the table for three hours and it went by in minutes.

What snaps him out of it are the screams of terror he hears from upstairs.

His mind immediately jumps to the worst possible situation. He grabs the master sword and sprints upstairs. He sees nothing but a scared girl, crying from a nightmare.

“Zelda, what is it?” He asks, setting the sword town and running to her. He kneels by her bed and takes her hand. “I’m here, what’s wrong.” He whispers.

“You’re here?”

“I’m here.”

“B-but. The guardian, it got you. It killed-”

“It was just a nightmare, it wasn’t real.” Link reassures her. “I’m here, breathing, alive as ever.”

Zelda shakes her head, she’s clearly so traumatized that she cannot differentiate dream from reality anymore, she probably thinks him saying that is the dream.

“Here, feel.” He grabs her hand and places it against his chest where his heart is. “Feel that?” He asks, “Bum-bum. Bum-bum.” He whispers. “That’s my heart. Its pumping, it's beating.” Zelda sobs and he pulls her into his chest. “It’s okay, I got you. I’m here.”

He holds her for a moment and then stands up, “I’ll get the stool if it will help you sleep.” He turns to go.

“Stay with me.” She asks, tears wetting his collarbone.

“I’ll be right here, I’ll grab the stool.” He says.

“No, stay with me.” She says, and gestures to the bed.

“What?”

“Please. I cannot sleep without you by my side. I’m too afraid I’m going to lose you again.” She sniffles.

“Zelda I can’t-“

“Why?” She asks. “Because of decorum? Because I’m royal? Because you don't want to get caught?” She picks up her hands ‘None of that matters anymore’ she signs.

Link nods, “Are you sure?”

“Please.” She pleads.

Link moves back to her, trying to control his racing heart. Zelda scoots over to she’s closer to the wall, and Link carefully crawls into the covers of the bed. There wasn’t a ton of room, there would be no way for them to lay in the bed without being in full contact. “Is this okay?” He asks as he pulls the covers up.

She nods.

“Hold me?” She asks.

Link looks at her and it takes every ounce of his self-control not to kiss her. He nods and lays his head down, his chest facing up. He pulls her into his chest, wrapping his left arm around her shoulders and his right arm over his stomach to her waist. She tries to control her breathing, and it gets easier as their hearts begin to sync up.

Link wants to cry too, because this is the safest he has felt in a hundred and three years. This is the most at home he has ever been. He mentally-pinches himself because he’s sure he’s dreaming. But he doesn’t wake up, in fact, he starts to fall into the deepest sleep he’s ever had.

Every muscle in his body starts to relax, his eyes get heavy, and the scent of the girl on his chest fills his dreams with images of fairy forests and gentle ocean waves and the time of day when the sun moves into twilight.

This is home.

106 notes · View notes

nevrthlss · 11 months

Text

possessive yeonjun

genre: idol!yeonjun x idol!reader (fem)

warnings: smut, semi-public sex?? petnames (princess, baby, nothint weird idk), tit sucking, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex,

summary: when your groups just happened to be performing on inkigayo on the same day and yeonjun catches you talking to another idol backstage

an: this is my first work pls be nice to me and also the preformance referenced in this is txts inkigayo preformance on 20230129 and for the readers outfit i was thinking of winter's outfit in the spicy promos!

being in a relationship with an idol was hard enough, while being an idol yourself though? that was a different story. there was no doubt in your mind that yeonjun loved you, but it was difficult to see each other when your schedules clashed so often. so when you found out your groups would be having a comeback around the same time you were both thrilled, hoping that your music show days would line up as well. the day your schedules were released you rushed to tell yeonjun. he was eager to tell you that you'd be preforming together on 3 separate occasions.

the anticipation built over the next couple weeks while you prepared anxiously. comebacks were always stressful and took a toll on your physical health. knowing that you would be able to spend a day with yeonjun kept you going, even if it was for work...

finally the day had arrived, your comeback was very successful which took a weight off your shoulders. yeonjun didn't shy away from telling you how much he enjoyed watching your music video, especially the scenes where you wore that short, skin-tight dress. you decided to keep it a surprise that those outfits were the concept you'd be preforming in today.

you woke up early to begin your schedules, starting with your hair and makeup. you had your hair in an updo and a very smoky eye look. you couldn't help but stare in the mirror and wonder what yeonjun would think. it was time to get dressed and basically just wait for the interviews to start. after you got dressed you took some selfies and mirror pictures to post to your groups twitter account. secretly hoping yeonjun wouldn't see it, you wanted him to be surprised. you were hoping to see him before the performances and interviews started but he had a solo to record before hand so you just greeted the other members, disappointed because you had no idea he wouldn't be there. nevertheless, you were still excited for his reaction to your outfit to be caught on live television.

you can't help but watch his dancing from the waiting room, the way his face contorted with concentration reminded of you of a certain scene from your bedroom and couldn't stop yourself from squeezing your thighs together while recalling the memory. he was hypnotizing.

he had no time to say hello before or after he changed into his outfit for the group performance and had his makeup touched up. a little disappointing but not surprising. txt had gone for their solo interview first, and then your group joined them. the moment yeonjun saw you he couldn't keep his eyes off of you, and how the dress hugged your body everywhere, the fishnets slightly squeezing your thighs. he was a mess, he stood on the stairs behind you, making your height difference even more prominent. as you turned around to greet the mc's and the members of txt you winked at him and snuck in a subtle eyebrow raise with that signature smirk of his. while the cameras were rolling he tried his best to not let his eyes linger, in fear of forgetting his lines. to say he was relieved when the interview was over and the cameras were off is an understatement. he hurrily said goodbye the the mcs and run after you, unbeknownst to him you desperately needed to use the bathroom and honestly just wanted an excuse to tease him more.

as soon as you had exited the bathroom the male mc was waiting for you (this can be whoever you want it to be). another aspect of your relationship that was so difficult was the fact that you had to keep it a secret, to everyone except your members of course. it wasn't uncommon for idols to flirt with each other but rarely do they ever date so it's not far fetched to assume most idols are single. you're not, but this mc doesn't know that. he instantly starts his lines, you can tell he's tried this before, it sounds straight off a script.

"so... your comeback was phenomenal" he started

you just shyly laugh, out of awkwardness "thank you..."

"im excited to see your preformance" he looks you up and down, probably not as subtly as he was trying to make it seem "i know you'll look great, y/n"

the way he says your name makes you laugh, he was trying to sound so seductive and it wasn't going well for him. he looks around embarassed before suddenly running off. you can barely contain yourself to look up and see what scared him away when you see yeonjun approaching you, looking less than pleased.

"what was that about?" he asks you, clearly angry

"i don't even know" you say still giggling "i come out of the bathroom and he's just there"

he just lets out an unimpressed groan

"anyways, i watched your solo jun" you say, snaking your arms around his neck "you did so good"

a smirk starts to spread across his face, suddenly forgetting there was even a guy talking to you in the first place. his hands find their places on your waist

"mhmm i wanted to surprise you" he says before pulling you closer, leaning down to whisper in your ear "were you trying to surprise me too"

"am i that easy to read?" you reply, fake offense laced in your voice

"a little bit"

"well did it work.."

"a little bit"

you smack his chest jokingly and try to slip out of his constantly tightening grasp on your waist. he begins lifting you off the ground slowly

"ahhhh yeonjunnnn" you complain

"you're not getting away from me this time" he says throwing you over his shoulder, despite your complaints

"what are you doinggg" you say admitting defeat and laying limp over his shoulder "what time do you go on"

"not for another hour" he replies starting to move to his dressing room

you smirk to yourself realizing that your plans have worked. you'd been waiting for this moments for weeks. busy days and nights spent away from each other, there's some pent up desires. yeonjun hasn't been shy in telling you this either. how much he missed you, how badly he needed you.

you're brought out of your thoughts when you hear the door close and lock. he sets you down gently on the couch.

"jjuni do u think this is the best idea" you say, so softly it's almost a whisper

"i don't really care" he replied, boldly "you don't understand how bad ive been needing this"

"i think i do" you say, smirking "you made it very clear in our texts"

"mhm" he mumbles sitting next to you "so you do understand"

he reaches over you to pull your opposite thigh over him, forcing you to straddle him, and forcing your dress to ride up to your waist. revealing only your safety shorts, to his disappointment. you snake your arms around his neck, entangling your hands in the hair on his nape

" your hair is getting so long" you say, tugging at his gently

his head leans back in response to your touch, revealing the glitter so carefully placed on his neck, running down to his collar bones that are so graciously revealed by his thin shirt.

"you like it?" he asks, looking at you through half lidded eyes

"yeah, it's sexy" you respond, moving your hand down to trace his collarbones, he shutters at the light touch "you're so sensitive jun"

he bites his lip and brings his head back up to look at you "you're one to talk" he slides his hand up your thighs to your waist, pulling you forward slightly, brushing your clothed core against his ever growing bulge, erupting a moan from you

before you get the chance to scold him he brings his lips to yours, locking them in an intense kiss. you can feel his hunger quickly rising as the kiss turns desperate and sloppy. his hands roaming your body and pulling you closer until there's no space between your bodies. you feel his tongue swipe at your lips begging for entrance, which you happily grant. his hands move up to hold your breasts, strong fingers pushing against your clothed nipples, the friction of the fabric making them even more sensitive. this gets a slight whimper out of you, yeonjun taking the opportunity to move his mouth down to your neck, immediately latching on to the spot just below your ear. he knows you too well

"jun be careful we have to preform after this"

"don't worry princess, i won't leave a trace" he mumbles into your skin

your hands find their way into his hair again, tugging gently, careful to not mess up the work his stylist put in. his hands move up from your waist to your shoulders to slide the dress off, revealing your bare chest, to his surprise

"no bra?" he questions

"it's like built in or something i don't know" you reply, eager to feel his lips against you again, he giggles to himself quietly and resumes his position on your neck, hands moving to grope your breast once again. after fondling for a moment he slowly moves his kisses downwards leaving a trail behind him, making you shiver.

he replaces one of his hands with his mouth, quickly earning a whimper from you. your hands tightening in his hair, earning a groan from him in exchange

"fuck jun" you moan out

you can feel him smiling against your skin while his tongue stays steady, swirling around your nipple. he eagerly moves his head to focus his attention to your other boob, replacing his mouth with his hand. after you let out a particularly filthy moan he looks up at you through his lashes. the sight alone is enough to push him over the edge, his already hard cock twitching in his pants. you're brought back to earth when he suddenly halts his movements. you look at him, perplexed, with a slight pout on your face

"what's the easiest way to get through all these layers" he asks, with such and innocent tone, referring to the safety shorts on top of the fishnets, which are on top of your panties.

"fuck.... um" you reply, unsure of what to do

"i could just rip-"

"no"

he giggles at your pouting face. you slip off his lap, gaining a complaining whine from yeonjun, to take off your shoes, then the safety shorts, then the fishnets. making you shiver as the wet patch of your underwear is exposed to the cold air. yeonjun takes note of this and pushes you back on the couch, pulling your legs over his shoulders as he leans down below you.

"so wet for me already princess?" he asks

you can feel the blood rushing to your face, makeup doing very little to hide the red that spreads across your cheeks. you go to cover your face out of embarrassment but he quickly pulls your hands back down to him, his eyes asking you to play with his hair again. he starts peppering kisses to your inner thighs, making you shiver and lean into his touch

"who's sensitive now?" he teases

as his kisses slowly approach your core you can feel yourself becoming more and more needy. thighs trying to squeeze together, only to be stopped by his strong hands pulling them apart. you look down at him, puzzled by the halting of his movements, only to find him gazing up at you, asking for permission with his eyes. you nod at him desperately, biting your lip as your head falls back again. his fingers gently hook your panties, moving them to the side, because taking them off would require too much movement. he's needy and he knows you are too. you shutter from the feeling of the cold air against your now bare pussy. the feeling doesn't last long, he quickly connects his lips to your sensitive bud, kissing it slowly before licking a stripe up to gather your arousal on his tongue

"you taste so good princess" he mumbles, the vibrations causing you to moan and thrust into his face "all this for me?" you're too shy to respond, but he wants to hear you say it. "tell me princess..." he purrs

"mhm" you can barely groan out "all for u jjuni"

the pet name drives him wild and you know it. he resumes his licking at your clit. soft laps quickly turning into intense flicking. you try to contain your noises as much as possible but fuck hes so good. your hands in his hair tell him everything he needs to know. at this point you're tugging with no regards to the work that his stylist did, you couldn't help it. the knot in your stomach was building quickly, he moves one of his hands out from under your thigh and quickly shoves two fingers into your core, his cold fingers gaining a loud whine from you, your teeth sinking into your lip. his fingers starting moving in and out at an excruciatingly slow pace, making your eyes flutter with pleasure. your back arches off the couch, pushing his face closer to you, reaching a spot that excites a desperate moan out of you.

"fuck jun, im close" you mutter quietly, a little embarrassed of how quickly you're cumming

"cum for me doll" he replies, only halting his activities for a second, eyes staring up at you with pride. he was proud of himself and you could see it

his movements only quicken from there, pushing you over the edge even quicker than you anticipated. moans erupting from you and your hips jerking against his face as the knot comes undone. he continues licking at you slowly, helping you come down from your high. your fingers release his hair as he moves up to kiss you again, your cum glistening on his chin. you move your arms around his neck to pull him down, quickly locking your lips with his, tasting yourself on him. he pulls away to look into your eyes, but you can only notice his hair

"shit, your hair" you say, hands quickly moving to fix it for him

"don't worry about it princess" he coos "you can fix it later im not done with you yet"

his words send shivers to your body, he quickly moves his face down to kiss your neck again, your hands find their way back into his hair he was right. he halts his movements to fumble with his pants. you can only giggle at him, using one hand to hold himself above you and one hand to try and get his pants off. you move your hands down to help him, quickly getting frustrated with the complexities of his stage outfit. he can't help but laugh at himself either. you give him a playful nudge, asking him to sit back up on the couch, he obliges, quickly moving his pants down to his knees with the availability of both hands. you sit back up and climb over him to straddle him again, his hands finding their place on your waist. you're scared half to death when you hear a knock on the door

"30 minute warning" one of his managers calls out from the other side

"thank you" he responds quickly

fuck, has it been that long already?

"gotta make this quick doll" he says turning your attention back to him

you nod at him, eagerly, your lip finding its way back between your teeth. his hands move from your waist to pull his boxers down, revealing his desperate cock, red and already leaking precum. the sight was enough to make you come undone all over again. his hands move back to your hips and lift you up slowly, you move your hand to his base, lining the tip up with your entrance before sinking back down onto him, letting him fill you up so perfectly

"fuck princess" he groans "i missed you so fuckin much"

"mhm" you reply, the pet name making you clench around him "missed you too"

he throws his head back in pleasure as you start moving on him, the slight movement turning him into a whimpering mess. his hands move you up and down, helping your already shaking legs. you let out loud moan as he hits your g-spot

"fuck jjuni, right there" you whimper, leaning your head into the crook of his neck

he wraps his arms around you fully, pulling you flush to his chest and fucking up into your rapidly. you squeak in response to the sudden change of speed, biting his neck harshly. so much for leaving no trace. he hits that spot over and over again, quickly bringing you closer for the second time

"shit" he mumbles "im close"

you smirk at his comment, knowing the break made him just as needy as you. climaxing so quickly.

"me too jjuni me too" you whisper into his neck, exhausted from pleasure

you feel his stomach brush your clit sending you over the edge, vision going white as pleasure rushes through your core, clenching around his dick as your high takes over your senses

"fffuck" he whimpers as he cums in response to your clenching. his hot cum shooting into you in spurts, filling you up even more. his head falls back as he twitches inside of you, his brain fucked dumb. you lay on his chest, beginning to play with the strings of his shirt while he regains his train of thought. he pressed a sweet kiss to the top of your head

"i love you" he mutters quietly

"i love you too jun" you reply, still slightly out of breath

"let's get you cleaned up yeah?"

you just hum in response, moving yourself off of his lap, pouting at the empty feeling he left inside you. he goes to grab a tissue and wipes off your thighs and moving your panties back to cover you. he pressed a loving kiss to your thighs before getting back up to throw the tissue away. you get up to put the rest of your outfit back on and pull your dress back up to cover you.

"gonna preform with my cum inside you?" he asks teasingly

"you know it" you reply, only half joking while putting your shoes back on

you move in front of the mirror to make sure your appearance isn't too messed up, fixing your hair and cleaning off your smudged lipstick. yeonjun comes up behind you and wraps his hands around your waist. you turn around to face his disheveled appearance

"you look hot" he says staring into your eyes

"why thank you" you reply, pecking his lips and immediately moving your hands to fix his hair, almost like nothing happened "you should probably go"

"mhm" he hums, sadly "how about we go get dinner after this

"if there's time" you reply, messing with his hair some more

"i'll make time don't worry" he leans down, kissing you softly, interrupted by another knock at the door

"15 minutes it's time to do a run through" the same manager calls out

"coming" he replies, shortly

he kisses you one last time, lingering way longer than he had time for

"i'll see you later princess"

#txt imagines #txt scenarios #yeonjun x reader #choi yeonjun smut #yeonjun hard hours #tomorrow x together smut #yeonjun hard thoughts #yeonjun #txt #choi yeonjun

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