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gyuuberryy · 6 days

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prince charming's mismatch

pairing: prince!heeseung x princess!reader

synopsis: you and prince heeseung have been rivals for as long as you can remember. what began as childhood clashes has grown into a deep-seated animosity over the years. but when your sister runs away on her wedding day, you're forced to take her place and marry heeseung—the last person you ever wanted to call your husband.

now bound in an unwanted marriage, you’re faced with navigating the tension between your unresolved hatred and an unexpected attraction. as palace intrigue and looming threats surround you both, you must confront the truth of your feelings. will the bitterness between you tear you apart, or will it ignite something far more powerful?

genre: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, arranged marriage au

warnings: highly suggestive content!!! kissing, hee and reader are mean at first, insecurities, jealous!hee

note: i've been meaning to write this plot for an year now, im happy with how it turned out! e2l with hee is always soo fun to write. enjoyy

word count: 11.5k

royally yours masterlist | next: jay

if you liked it please reblog or comment to give me your feedback! <3

the first time you met prince heeseung, it was at a grand summer garden party hosted by your parents in the palace’s sprawling grounds. you were barely six years old, and he wasn’t much older, yet even then, the air between you crackled with something akin to competition. your governess had dressed you in your finest lace frock, with your hair tied in perfect ribbons, but none of that mattered. you were too busy building a grand sandcastle near the fountain, your little fingers carefully patting the turrets into shape.

that was when heeseung appeared, his shadow falling over your castle like a storm cloud. he crouched beside you without so much as a polite greeting, his royal title apparently excusing his lack of manners. his eyes, sharp for a child, surveyed your handiwork critically.

“that’s not right,” he declared, reaching out to touch one of your towers. “the walls need to be thicker, or it’ll fall.”

you frowned, already bristling at the unsolicited advice. “it’s my castle. i know what i’m doing.”

he smirked, a small, superior thing that made your blood simmer even at that tender age. without asking, he began "fixing" it, his hands too rough as he demolished what you had so carefully crafted.

“stop!” you cried, shoving him back with all the strength your little body could muster. heeseung stumbled, landing awkwardly on the grass, but instead of being chastened, he merely laughed.

“see?” he said, gesturing at the collapsed sandcastle. “i told you it would fall.”

tears of frustration welled in your eyes as you glared at him. “you ruined it! i didn’t ask for your help!”

heeseung stood, dusting off his fine clothes, a boyish smirk still plastered on his face. “you should thank me. i was doing you a favour.”

from that day forward, any time your families met, it was as if an unspoken rule had been established—whenever you were in the same room, you and heeseung would find something to argue about. it didn’t matter if it was who deserved the biggest slice of cake or who could recite their latin conjugations faster; the two of you were constantly at odds.

as the years passed, your mutual disdain only deepened. by the time you were ten, heeseung had already earned a reputation as the golden boy of his kingdom, a future king who excelled in everything he touched. your own accomplishments were always impressive—your parents had ensured you were well-versed in languages, history, and the fine arts—but whenever heeseung was around, it felt as though all your achievements paled in comparison.

“did you hear?” one of your tutors asked one morning as you sat in the drawing room, diligently practising your embroidery. “prince heeseung has been awarded top marks in his studies again. he’s to receive a commendation from the royal academy.”

you didn’t look up, but your needle paused for the briefest of moments. “how wonderful for him,” you muttered, the words heavy with sarcasm.

that evening, at another royal banquet, you couldn’t help but bring up your own accomplishments, eager for even a crumb of recognition.

“i’ve been practising my archery,” you said proudly to the gathered guests, though your eyes couldn’t help but flick toward heeseung, who lounged nearby, looking as regal and aloof as ever. “i managed to hit the bullseye several times this week.”

heeseung glanced up lazily, catching your eye with that familiar, insufferable smirk. “impressive,” he said in a bored tone, “though archery isn’t quite the same as, say, fencing. that requires real skill.”

your fists clenched under the table, your pride wounded by his casual dismissal. but this was the way it always went. no matter what you did, heeseung always found a way to make it seem insignificant, as though he were the sun and you were merely a star dimmed by his brilliance.

by the time you were both teenagers, the animosity between you had grown more complicated, though no less intense. you found yourselves at the same royal gatherings, balls, and court functions, and each time, it was as if the entire room held its breath, waiting to see what you and heeseung would clash over next.

at one particularly grand ball, you had been feeling proud of your debut. you wore a gown of the finest silk, and you’d received more than a few admiring glances from the eligible noblemen in attendance. you were certain this was your night to shine—until heeseung approached.

“you look well enough,” he said, his voice smooth but with an edge that set your teeth on edge. “though i hope you don’t trip during the quadrille like last time.”

your cheeks flushed, remembering all too well the minor misstep you’d taken at a previous ball. “i won’t,” you snapped, glaring at him. “and even if i did, it’s better than fencing yourself into a corner like you did at the tournament last month.”

his smile faltered for just a second, but that was enough to make you feel victorious.

yet, despite the constant barbs, there was something else simmering beneath the surface now—a tension you refused to name. you hated the way your heart raced whenever heeseung was near, the way his presence seemed to fill every corner of a room. and, though you’d never admit it, you hated even more that part of you missed the old days when your squabbles were simple, childish things.

it all changed the day your sister’s engagement to heeseung was announced. the prince who had been your lifelong nemesis was now to become your sister’s husband, the future king of your kingdom. it was a match made for political alliance, but it felt like a betrayal. you had expected more from him—well, not more kindness, but certainly more rebellion. yet, heeseung accepted the engagement with the same cool composure he did everything else.

for the first time in years, he stopped seeking you out, stopped picking those fights you had come to expect. he no longer bothered with sharp remarks or smug smiles. instead, he kept his distance, as though you were beneath his notice.

you told yourself it didn’t matter. after all, what did you care if heeseung ignored you now? he was going to be your brother-in-law, and that was enough reason to keep things civil. and yet, a strange, hollow feeling settled in your chest whenever you saw him and your sister together. he was colder now, more mature, but somehow more distant than ever.

little did you know, your rivalry with prince heeseung was far from over. if anything, it was only just beginning.

the night your world fell apart, it started with a simple knock on your chamber door. the palace had been abuzz with preparations—florists arranging garlands, tailors hemming gowns, and courtiers whispering about the grand union that would strengthen two kingdoms. you had spent the evening rehearsing your duties as maid of honour, biting back any remnants of bitterness that still clung to your feelings about the match. it didn’t matter that you had spent your entire life despising heeseung; your sister loved him, or at least, she was supposed to.

you were preparing to retire, brushing your hair by the dim glow of candlelight, when your sister slipped into the room, her face pale and eyes wide with fear. you’d never seen her look so frantic. your heart sank before she even said a word.

“i’m not going to marry him,” she whispered, wringing her hands in the folds of her silk nightgown. her voice trembled, but it was steady enough for you to know she wasn’t joking.

your heart lurched. “what are you talking about? the wedding is tomorrow!”

her wide eyes darted to the door as if she feared someone might overhear. she leaned in closer, gripping your wrist with trembling fingers. “i can’t marry heeseung,” she said urgently. “i don’t love him. i’m leaving tonight.”

the words hit you like a physical blow. “you’re what?”

“i’m eloping,” she said, her voice firmer now, as if saying it out loud gave her courage. “with lucien.”

lucien. you barely knew the man, a minor noble from another court, but he had charmed your sister quickly. he was handsome and witty, but far beneath her station. you stared at her, disbelief mixing with fury.

“lucien? are you mad? you can’t just abandon your duty for—”

“for love?” she interrupted, her voice rising in defiance. “yes, i can. i won’t be trapped in a loveless marriage with a man who cares nothing for me.”

you swallowed hard, your mind racing. heeseung, distant and cold as he had been with you, had shown no signs of affection for your sister either, but this was bigger than personal feelings. the marriage was political, a union meant to secure alliances, peace, and power. your sister fleeing would bring nothing but chaos.

“you’ll ruin everything,” you whispered, your voice thick with the weight of the consequences. “our families, the kingdoms—this is bigger than you.”

her eyes softened with a mix of guilt and determination. “i know. but i can’t live my life for duty, not like this.” she stood, gathering a small satchel you hadn’t noticed before, already packed and ready for her escape.

“you won’t stop me, will you?” she asked, her gaze pleading.

you wanted to scream, to shake her out of this madness, but your throat tightened. she was your sister. you loved her. and you knew, deep down, that nothing you said would change her mind.

“i should,” you said, your voice quiet, brittle. “but no. i won’t.”

your sister smiled, a fragile, relieved thing, before pulling you into a tight embrace. the hug felt final, like the end of something neither of you could come back from. when she finally let go, you stood frozen in the middle of her room as she slipped out the window and into the night, her footsteps fading into the shadows.

the palace remained blissfully unaware of the catastrophe until morning, when your mother’s scream shattered the early dawn peace.

the palace was in chaos the next morning. servants rushed through the halls, panic etched on their faces as whispers spread like wildfire—the bride had run away. you stayed in your chambers as long as possible, trying to gather your thoughts, your emotions, trying to prepare for the inevitable fallout.

when the summons came from your father, it felt like a death knell. the walk to the throne room felt endless, each step heavier than the last. the moment you stepped through the grand doors, you saw heeseung standing beside your parents. his face was a mask of icy calm, but his eyes…his eyes were darker than you’d ever seen them, cold and unforgiving.

he didn’t even glance at you as your father spoke.

“your sister has disgraced this family,” your father’s voice boomed, his tone laced with anger and disappointment. “but the marriage cannot be abandoned. the alliance with heeseung’s kingdom is too important.”

you stood still, your stomach churning as you braced for what was coming.

“therefore,” your father continued, his gaze hard as stone, “you will take her place.”

for a moment, the words didn’t register. you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. you? marry heeseung? no, it wasn’t possible. you had spent your entire life in a silent war with him. the idea of marrying the man who had been your nemesis since childhood was unthinkable.

your mother’s voice, soft but firm, broke the silence. “the arrangements have already been made. the wedding will proceed as planned. you will become heeseung’s bride.”

“no.” the word slipped from your lips before you could stop it, your heart racing. “i can’t.”

your father’s eyes narrowed, and your mother’s expression hardened with disappointment. “you will do your duty,” your father said coldly. “this is not up for discussion.”

duty. it always came down to that. your entire life, you had been prepared for moments like this, but not this moment. not like this.

finally, you turned to heeseung, desperate for any sign of protest, for him to say something—anything—that would stop this madness. but he was silent. his face remained expressionless, as though none of this affected him. he looked at you as if you were just a piece of the puzzle, another part of the kingdom’s grand design.

“is that all i am to you?” you asked, your voice shaking. “just a replacement? a stand-in for the bride who ran away?”

for the first time, heeseung’s gaze met yours, and for a brief moment, something flickered in his eyes—something unreadable, buried deep beneath the coldness. but his words cut through you like ice.

“you’re a princess,” he said, his voice quiet but sharp. “your role is to serve your kingdom. that’s all that matters.”

a bitter laugh escaped your throat. “you’ve hated me for years, heeseung. and now you expect me to just—what? pretend none of that matters?”

his jaw tightened, but he didn’t respond. instead, he turned away, his indifference stinging more than any of the insults you had traded over the years.

your father spoke again, his tone final. “the marriage will happen. prepare yourself.”

the grand hall was suffused with the glow of flickering candles and soft sunlight filtering through stained glass windows. the scent of fresh roses—your sister’s favourite, not yours—hung heavily in the air, mocking the gravity of the moment. you stood at the entrance of the hall, your hands clenched so tightly around the bouquet that your knuckles were white. the murmurs of the courtiers echoed around you, a constant hum of speculation and judgement. no matter how well you carried yourself today, the whispers wouldn’t stop.

the switch of the bride was the scandal of the century, and you were at the centre of it.

ahead of you, heeseung stood tall, his face as unreadable as stone. the same detachment was in his eyes, his expression cool and composed as if this marriage was merely another political manoeuvre for him, another step toward the throne. he didn’t look at you with warmth, or even a hint of care. to him, you weren’t his wife—you were the replacement for the woman who had run away.

you walked down the aisle, every step heavier than the last, the reality of your situation crushing you. heeseung’s gaze was steady as you approached, but it wasn’t the gaze of a man looking at his bride. it was a look of cold calculation, a man who had resigned himself to duty.

when you finally reached him, your heart thudding loudly in your chest, you barely registered the priest's words. the vows—sacred, binding—felt hollow, like a cruel twist of fate. how could you stand here, repeating the words meant for your sister? they weren't meant for you. you were never supposed to be the bride.

heeseung took your hand, and the warmth of his skin was a sharp contrast to the chill that ran down your spine. his grip was firm, not gentle, but not cruel either—just dutiful. he spoke his vows with a steady voice, each word sounding rehearsed, as though they meant nothing to him beyond their formality.

and then it was your turn. you hesitated, the weight of the kingdom on your shoulders, your pulse quickening. your voice trembled slightly as you repeated the vows, feeling the eyes of everyone in the hall on you—expecting you to fulfil your role, to be the perfect princess. you could barely choke out the words, but somehow, you managed. and with every word, you felt the invisible chains of your new life tightening around you.

when the priest finally pronounced you husband and wife, heeseung’s lips brushed yours in the briefest of kisses—so cold and devoid of feeling that it felt more like a business transaction than the union of two people. the cheers of the court erupted around you, but in that moment, the applause sounded like the closing of a cage. you were trapped, bound to him, to this life.

as you turned to leave the altar, heeseung offered his arm, the tension between you palpable. his eyes flickered to yours for a brief moment, but there was no warmth there. just that cold, resigned look you had grown accustomed to. you were both playing your roles, just as you had been trained to do your whole lives.

but this wasn’t a game. this was your future, and it felt like a noose tightening around your neck.

the wedding feast had been a blur—a cacophony of forced smiles, hollow congratulations, and polite toasts that masked the underlying tension. you had barely spoken a word to heeseung throughout the entire affair. he hadn’t made any attempt to speak to you either, remaining as distant and composed as ever.

now, as you stood alone in the chambers that were to be yours and heeseung’s, the reality of your new life settled heavily on your chest. the palace chambers were far too quiet, the air thick with the tension that had been building between you and heeseung for years. as you stood in the centre of the room, staring at the enormous bed draped in rich fabrics, it felt like the walls were closing in. the room was elegantly decorated—ornate tapestries hung on the walls, and the grand four-poster bed was fit for a queen. but none of it mattered. the splendour felt like a mockery of the situation you found yourself in. tonight, this room was not a sanctuary but a gilded cage.

your breath caught in your throat as the door creaked open. heeseung entered, his presence commanding even in the subdued candlelight. the tension between you was palpable, stretching like a thin, fragile thread that could snap at any moment. his gaze flicked toward you briefly, but he didn’t speak, and the silence that followed was suffocating.

heeseung moved with practised grace, his movements calm and deliberate. he began undoing the buttons on his ceremonial jacket, the fine fabric sliding off his shoulders and landing in a careless heap on the chair by the vanity. you stood frozen, unsure of what to say, what to do. this wasn’t how you had imagined a wedding night would feel—though you had never dreamed this night would be with heeseung, of all people.

his back was to you now, his broad shoulders tense, though he did nothing to betray any emotion. you could feel the distance between you both, even though he was just across the room. heeseung had always been composed, guarded, but tonight, his coldness cut even deeper than usual.

he finally broke the silence, his voice low but steady. “it’s late. you should rest.” there was no affection in his tone, just the same sense of duty that had hung over the entire day. you weren’t his bride by choice, and he wasn’t your husband by desire.

you bit back a bitter laugh. rest? as if you could simply close your eyes and pretend this was normal. pretend that this marriage was something other than a trap. “is that it, then?” you asked, your voice sharper than intended. “we go to bed and pretend everything is fine?”

heeseung turned to face you, his expression as unreadable as ever. he didn’t answer right away, as if weighing his response carefully. “what do you want me to say?” his tone was measured, but there was an edge to it, a hint of frustration that matched your own.

“i don’t know,” you admitted, your voice trembling with the weight of your emotions. “this wasn’t supposed to happen. i wasn’t supposed to marry you.”

something flickered in heeseung’s eyes, though it disappeared as quickly as it came. he regarded you for a moment, his gaze unreadable, before he spoke again. “do you think i wanted this?” his words were quiet but laced with a bitterness that surprised you. “i didn’t ask for this any more than you did.”

you swallowed, feeling a lump rise in your throat. you hadn’t expected this admission from him, hadn’t expected him to show any vulnerability. “then what are we supposed to do?” your voice was softer now, the anger ebbing away, replaced by uncertainty. “how are we supposed to live like this?”

heeseung sighed, running a hand through his hair, a rare moment of frustration breaking through his calm facade. “we do what’s expected of us,” he said, though there was a heaviness to his words, as if he was trying to convince himself as much as you. “we fulfill our duties. that’s all we can do.”

“duties.” the word tasted bitter on your tongue. it had always come down to that, hadn’t it? duty to the crown, to the kingdom, to your family. and now, duty to heeseung.

the silence stretched on, thick and uncomfortable. heeseung turned away, moving toward the window where the heavy drapes framed the view of the darkened palace gardens. his silhouette was stark against the faint glow of moonlight, his posture stiff, almost defensive.

after a long moment, he spoke again, his voice softer this time. “i’ll sleep over there.” he gestured to the chaise near the window, a fine piece of furniture that now seemed woefully out of place in this awkward, tension-filled room. “you can have the bed.”

you blinked, surprised by his offer. it was the last thing you expected from him, but it was a relief nonetheless. “you don’t have to—”

“i’m not doing this for you,” he interrupted, his voice firm, but not unkind. “i just don’t want to make this any more difficult than it already is.”

with that, he moved toward the chaise, gathering a pillow and blanket from the wardrobe. his actions were efficient, almost mechanical, as if he had already resigned himself to this fate. he didn’t look at you as he arranged the blanket over the chaise.

you stood there, feeling a strange mix of emotions—relief, awkwardness, and something else, something heavier that you couldn’t quite place. this was your wedding night, but it was nothing like you had ever imagined. there was no closeness, no warmth—just two people bound together by obligation and circumstance.

finally, you moved toward the bed, the thick carpets muffling your steps. the soft fabric of your gown felt heavy as you climbed beneath the covers, though they provided no comfort. you lay there, staring up at the intricate canopy above, your mind racing. this bed, this room—none of it felt like yours.

heeseung settled on the chaise, his back to you, the distance between you both feeling vast despite the small room. the silence was oppressive, each second dragging on longer than the last. you wondered if he was as uneasy as you were, or if he had already steeled himself to this new reality.

for a long while, neither of you spoke, the only sound in the room the faint rustling of fabric as you shifted beneath the covers. the weight of the day, of the vows, of your new title, pressed down on you, making it hard to breathe.

finally, you couldn’t stand the silence any longer. “heeseung,” you whispered, unsure if you even wanted him to respond.

he didn’t turn, but his voice was low and steady when he answered. “what?”

you hesitated, searching for the right words. “do you think... do you think this will ever get easier?”

there was a long pause before he responded, his voice quiet, almost resigned. “i don’t know.”

and with that, the conversation ended. heeseung remained silent, his back still turned to you, and you knew there was nothing more to say. you turned onto your side, pulling the blankets tighter around you, though they offered little warmth. the room felt too big, too empty, despite his presence.

eventually, exhaustion crept in, dulling the sharp edges of your thoughts. but even as sleep began to claim you, a cold, sinking feeling settled in your chest. this was your life now—bound to a man you barely knew, a man who had been your enemy for years, and yet, somehow, your husband.

and as you drifted off into uneasy sleep, the last thought that crossed your mind was how strange it felt to be lying just feet away from heeseung, yet feeling as though he was a world away.

the morning after the wedding dawned cold and gray, mirroring the lingering tension between you and heeseung. you woke up in the large, empty bed, the space next to you untouched, a stark reminder of the distance that had been established on your wedding night. the air in the room felt thick, suffocating, as if the very walls were pressing in on you, reminding you of your new reality.

as you sat up, the unfamiliarity of your surroundings only worsened the tightness in your chest. this was your new life. not just this bed, but this room, this palace—heeseung’s palace—and you would share it with a man who barely spoke to you, who looked at you with that same cold distance he had always shown.

you dressed quickly, your movements mechanical, trying not to think too much. the maids moved around you silently, well-trained and efficient, but you could feel their eyes on you. it was impossible to escape the fact that everyone knew. the entire kingdom knew the story—the princess who had run away, and her sister forced to take her place. the whispers would never stop.

when you finally made your way downstairs to the grand dining room, heeseung was already seated at the long table, a plate of food in front of him. he didn’t look up when you entered, simply continued cutting into his meal with precise, practised movements. you hesitated for a moment, then took your seat across from him.

the silence was unbearable.

you picked at your food, barely tasting it, glancing at heeseung from time to time. his expression was as unreadable as ever, his attention focused on the papers beside his plate—likely matters of the kingdom that required his attention. he was already immersed in his duties, the weight of his impending kingship pressing down on him just as heavily as your new role as his wife weighed on you.

finally, you couldn’t stand it any longer. “do you plan to ignore me for the rest of our lives?” you asked, your voice sharper than you intended.

heeseung didn’t look up immediately, taking his time to finish his bite and set down his utensils with deliberate care. when he finally met your gaze, his expression was cool, detached. “i’m not ignoring you.”

you scoffed, unable to hide your frustration. “you’ve barely spoken to me since the wedding.”

he raised an eyebrow, his tone as calm as ever. “what would you like me to say?”

the question took you off guard. you hadn’t expected him to be so blunt. you opened your mouth, then closed it again, unsure of how to respond. what did you want him to say? that he regretted everything as much as you did? that he hated this arrangement, too? or perhaps you wanted him to acknowledge the years of bitterness between you, to admit that this marriage was a farce.

instead, you said, “we’re married now, heeseung. we have to live together. we can’t keep pretending the other doesn’t exist.”

his jaw tightened ever so slightly, but his voice remained calm. “i’m aware of that.”

you waited for him to say more, but he didn’t. the silence stretched on once again, thicker than before, suffocating in its awkwardness. you pushed your plate away, no longer interested in eating. “fine,” you muttered under your breath, standing abruptly. “i suppose i’ll just get used to it, then.”

you turned to leave, but his voice stopped you. “you don’t have to like this any more than i do, but we have responsibilities now.”

you paused, your back to him, your hands clenched at your sides. “responsibilities,” you repeated, your voice barely above a whisper. it seemed like that was all your life had ever been reduced to—duty, obligation, and responsibilities.

without another word, you left the dining room, the heavy doors closing behind you with a soft thud. you could feel the weight of the situation bearing down on you even more as you walked through the halls of the palace, each step echoing in the vast emptiness. you weren’t just trapped in this marriage—you were trapped in this life.

days passed, and though you and heeseung were forced to share the same space, your interactions remained minimal, stilted. in the mornings, you would find him already at the breakfast table, poring over documents and barely acknowledging your presence. he would spend his days attending council meetings and handling matters of state, leaving you to navigate the palace on your own, feeling more like a guest in your own home than its mistress.

at night, he would retire to the chambers late, often when you were already lying in bed, pretending to sleep. he would quietly take his place on the chaise near the window, far enough away to avoid any awkwardness, but close enough that his presence was a constant reminder of the divide between you.

it was during these nights that the loneliness settled in most heavily. the silence of the room, broken only by the occasional rustling of fabric or the soft crackle of the fireplace, was suffocating. you had grown accustomed to sleeping alone, but now, knowing heeseung was just a few feet away, the distance between you felt almost unbearable. there was an unspoken understanding that neither of you wanted to bridge the gap.

one evening, after yet another day of awkward meals and tense silences, you found yourself in the library, one of the few places in the palace where you felt at peace. the vast room was filled with shelves upon shelves of books, their spines worn and familiar. you had always loved to read, finding solace in the stories and histories of others when your own life felt too overwhelming.

you were seated by the window, the late afternoon sun casting a soft glow over the pages of your book, when the door creaked open. you looked up, surprised to see heeseung standing in the doorway. he paused for a moment, as if uncertain whether to enter or leave, his eyes scanning the room before they settled on you.

“may i join you?” he asked, his voice unusually soft.

you blinked, caught off guard by his request. this was the first time he had sought you out since the wedding, and the suddenness of it left you momentarily speechless. you nodded, unsure of what else to do. “of course.”

heeseung crossed the room, moving with his usual grace, and took a seat in the armchair opposite you. for a moment, neither of you spoke, the quiet of the library enveloping you both. he seemed content to sit in silence, his gaze wandering to the bookshelves that lined the walls.

finally, after what felt like an eternity, he spoke. “this is... one of the quieter rooms.”

you raised an eyebrow, a small, incredulous smile tugging at the corner of your lips. “it’s a library, heeseung. of course it’s quiet.”

to your surprise, he chuckled softly, though it was a dry, humourless sound. “fair enough.”

silence fell again, but this time it wasn’t as suffocating. there was something almost... peaceful about it, the weight of your shared presence not as unbearable as it had been before. you watched him out of the corner of your eye, noticing how tired he looked. the weight of his responsibilities was evident in the slight furrow of his brow, the way his shoulders sagged ever so slightly.

after a while, you set your book down on your lap, deciding to break the silence. “it must be difficult,” you said quietly. “taking on so much.”

heeseung didn’t answer right away, his gaze still focused on the shelves, but eventually, he nodded. “it is.”

you hesitated for a moment, then spoke again, softer this time. “you don’t have to carry it all alone, you know.”

he turned to look at you then, his expression unreadable, but there was something in his eyes—something softer than the cold indifference you had grown accustomed to.

“and what would you suggest?” he asked, his voice quiet but not unkind.

“i don’t know,” you admitted. “but we’re in this together, whether we like it or not.”

heeseung’s gaze lingered on you for a moment longer, and then he nodded, a small, almost imperceptible movement. it wasn’t much, but it was the first step—however small—toward something more than just forced cohabitation.

the shift in your relationship came faster than you expected. it started with a challenge—a reckless, unspoken dare that neither of you could resist.

it had been a clear, crisp day, the first after several weeks of rain. you were restless, tired of the palace walls and the constant burden of your new role. you had gone to the stables, hoping to take one of the horses out for a ride, needing to feel the wind in your hair and the ground beneath you. but when you arrived, heeseung was already there, adjusting the reins of his own horse.

you paused in the doorway, surprised to see him. “you ride?”

he glanced up, one eyebrow raised. “you sound surprised.”

“i am,” you admitted. “i’ve never seen you ride before.”

he chuckled softly, his eyes glinting with amusement. “there’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

the challenge in his voice was unmistakable, and you couldn’t resist rising to it. “care to prove it?” you asked, moving toward your own horse.

heeseung’s smirk widened. “what do you have in mind?”

you mounted your horse swiftly, the thrill of the challenge already coursing through your veins. “a race.”

heeseung raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “you think you can beat me?”

“i know i can,” you shot back, turning your horse toward the open field beyond the stables.

without another word, you spurred your horse into motion, not waiting for his response. behind you, you heard heeseung’s laughter, low and rich, before the sound of hooves thundering against the ground told you he had accepted the challenge.

you raced through the fields, the wind whipping through your hair, the thrill of the chase making your heart race. heeseung was right behind you, and you could feel the tension building, the competitive edge between you sparking like fire. it was like being children again, challenging each other at every turn, pushing each other to the limit.

but this time, it was different. the stakes were higher, the tension thicker, and the way heeseung looked at you when he finally caught up to you sent a shiver down your spine.

when he finally pulled his horse beside yours, you were both breathless, your faces flushed with adrenaline. you glanced over at him, and the look in his eyes—intense, dark, heated—made your pulse quicken.

“not bad,” he said, his voice low, rough around the edges.

you smirked, trying to ignore the way your heart was pounding. “you almost kept up.”

heeseung leaned in just slightly, his gaze locking with yours. “almost?” he murmured, his voice sending a jolt through you.

you swallowed hard, your throat suddenly dry. the space between you was too close, the air charged with something you weren’t quite ready to name. his eyes lingered on your lips for just a moment too long, and you could feel the heat of his presence, the tension that had always existed between you now manifesting in a way that was far more dangerous.

before either of you could say anything, heeseung pulled back, his smirk returning as if nothing had happened. “we’ll call it a draw,” he said, though there was a teasing edge to his voice.

you let out a breath you hadn’t realised you were holding, shaking your head with a laugh. “you wish.”

but as you rode back to the palace, the tension between you remained, simmering beneath the surface. it was no longer the resentment of old enemies, but something far more complex, far more dangerous. and for the first time, you found yourself wondering what would happen if that tension ever boiled over.

later that night, the air was thick with the remnants of the day’s energy. you couldn’t sleep, your mind still racing from the ride and the way heeseung had looked at you—how close he had come, how your heart had nearly betrayed you in that moment of suspended anticipation.

you wandered the halls of the palace aimlessly, your footsteps soft against the marble floors. the palace at night was a different place, quiet and still, the shadows long and heavy. it felt like a place where secrets lingered in every corner, where the walls whispered of things that could never be said aloud.

as you passed by the study, you noticed the faint glow of light beneath the door. curiosity piqued, you pushed the door open just enough to peek inside. heeseung was there, seated at the desk, bathed in the warm glow of candlelight. he was reading, his brow furrowed in concentration, his lips slightly parted as he focused on the page in front of him.

you hesitated, but before you could turn away, he looked up, catching sight of you. for a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence between you heavy with unspoken words. then, without breaking eye contact, heeseung set the book aside.

“couldn’t sleep?” he asked, his voice low, intimate in the quiet of the room.

you shook your head, stepping into the room. “no. you?”

heeseung’s gaze flicked over you, his eyes lingering on you in a way that made your skin heat under his scrutiny. “i’ve been thinking,” he said, his tone soft but laced with that same dangerous tension that had been building all day.

“about what?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper as you moved closer, drawn to him in a way you couldn’t quite explain.

heeseung’s eyes met yours, and for a moment, the world seemed to stop. “about you,” he said quietly. “about us.”

the weight of his words settled in the space between you, thick and intoxicating. about you. about us. it echoed in your mind, stirring something deep within you that you had tried to ignore for far too long. you weren’t sure if it was the late hour, the dim candlelight, or the fact that you had been dancing around each other for weeks now, but something inside you snapped.

your breath hitched as you looked at him, his eyes dark and full of something you couldn’t quite name. but it was there—undeniable, pulsing in the space between you. and now that it had been spoken into existence, you couldn’t unsee it.

“what about us?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. it wasn’t just curiosity anymore. it was a challenge.

heeseung’s gaze flicked to your lips, and the tension in the room intensified, coiling tighter and tighter until it felt like the air itself might shatter from the pressure. he stood slowly, his movements deliberate, and took a step toward you, closing the already-small distance between you.

“there’s always been something between us,” he said, his voice low, rough. his eyes never left yours, burning with intensity. “even when we hated each other.”

your heart was pounding now, so loud you were sure he could hear it. you wanted to deny it, to tell him that he was wrong, that it had always been pure hatred. but that would’ve been a lie. you knew it as well as he did—whatever had always been there between you, it had never been simple.

“and what is it now?” you asked, forcing yourself to meet his gaze even though every instinct told you to look away. to run.

heeseung took another step closer, his hand reaching up slowly, as though giving you the chance to pull away. but you didn’t. you couldn’t. his fingers brushed against your cheek, the touch so light it sent a shiver down your spine. his hand lingered there, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw.

“maybe we’ve been fighting the wrong battle,” he murmured, his voice softer now, almost tender. the warmth of his breath ghosted over your skin, and you felt your pulse quicken.

your throat tightened. every word he said felt like a dangerous line, one that you were teetering on the edge of crossing. the tension between you had always been a fire—burning too hot, too fast. and now, it felt like it was about to consume you both.

heeseung’s thumb brushed over your bottom lip, and your breath caught in your throat. his touch was tentative, as though he wasn’t quite sure if this was real or if you would pull away at any moment.

but you didn’t.

instead, you took a step closer, closing the gap completely. the air between you was charged, thick with unspoken desire and the weight of all the years you had spent fighting against each other. your body was betraying you, leaning into him, drawn by a force you had denied for too long.

heeseung’s eyes darkened as he leaned in, his lips barely an inch from yours, the heat between you almost unbearable now. you could feel the tension in every muscle, the way his hand trembled slightly as it cupped your cheek, the way your own body was responding without your permission.

then, in a breathless moment that felt like it stretched on forever, he closed the distance.

his lips pressed against yours—soft at first, testing, as though he wasn’t sure you would let him. but the moment your lips met his, something ignited between you. the kiss deepened, filled with all the pent-up frustration and longing that had been building for so long. it was a clash of emotions—anger, desire, need—all colliding in that single moment.

you responded instantly, your hands reaching up to tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, needing more. the kiss was rough, almost desperate, as though you were both trying to make up for years of missed chances in that single moment.

his hands slid down to your waist, pulling you flush against him, and you gasped against his lips at the feeling of his body pressed so close to yours. the intensity of it was overwhelming, but you didn’t want it to stop. you didn’t want to think. you just wanted to feel.

but then, as quickly as it started, heeseung pulled back, his breathing ragged, his forehead resting against yours. his hands still gripped your waist, holding you in place as though he couldn’t quite let go yet.

“this isn’t... what i expected,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. his breath was warm against your skin, and his eyes searched yours, as though he was looking for an answer in your gaze.

you swallowed hard, trying to steady your breathing, trying to make sense of what had just happened. “what did you expect?” you asked softly, your fingers still tangled in his hair.

heeseung’s grip on your waist tightened for a moment, his eyes darkening once again. “i didn’t expect you to feel this way.” his voice was low, almost a growl, filled with the same intensity that had been building between you all night.

you opened your mouth to respond, but the words wouldn’t come. you had no idea what to say, no idea how to explain the maelstrom of emotions swirling inside you. all you knew was that everything had changed in that kiss.

“i don’t know what i feel,” you admitted quietly, your voice barely audible in the heavy silence of the room.

heeseung’s lips twitched into a small, almost sad smile. “neither do i.” he stepped back, finally breaking the physical contact between you, and you immediately missed the warmth of his body against yours.

“but whatever this is... it’s dangerous,” he continued, his eyes locked on yours, as though warning you. “we’ve always been enemies. we don’t know how to be anything else.”

you felt a lump form in your throat at his words, because deep down, you knew he was right. but that didn’t stop the ache in your chest, the desire for something more—for the possibility of what could be.

“i don’t want to be your enemy anymore,” you said softly, the confession surprising even you.

heeseung’s eyes widened slightly at your words, his expression unreadable. for a moment, you thought he might say something—might admit that he didn’t want to be your enemy either. but then, he shook his head, the walls between you coming back up, brick by brick.

“this doesn’t change anything,” he said quietly, but the look in his eyes said otherwise.

and with that, he turned and left the room, leaving you standing there in the soft glow of candlelight, your heart pounding and your mind reeling from the kiss that had shifted the entire balance between you.

as the door closed softly behind him, you exhaled a shaky breath, your fingers brushing your lips where his had been moments before.

everything had changed.

the royal court was buzzing with tension, and for once, the tension wasn’t between you and heeseung. the kingdom was on edge, not from war or rebellion, but from something far more insidious—political manoeuvring. rival noble houses were plotting against heeseung’s rule, questioning his right to ascend to the throne, especially after the sudden marriage to you. the whispers had grown louder over the past few weeks, the courtiers’ gazes sharper, waiting for the first misstep.

you had known court life would be full of power plays and alliances, but this was different. it was personal. every snide comment, every hushed conversation behind closed doors, felt like an attack on your marriage, on your family’s legacy. and worst of all, it felt like an attack on you.

one afternoon, as you made your way through the palace corridors, you overheard a group of nobles—close to your family—voicing their displeasure over your sudden marriage to heeseung. it was the same old song—how your sister should have been the bride, how you were never meant for this role, how heeseung marrying you was a strategic disaster.

you felt your blood run cold, but you kept walking, your head held high. you had grown used to these remarks, but today, they stung deeper. not because they questioned your worth, but because they reflected the deep-seated insecurity you had always carried.

that night, you found yourself alone in the study, staring out the window at the darkening sky. the weight of the court’s judgement, the impossible standards, the constant comparisons to your sister—they were suffocating. and then there was heeseung, whose coldness had thawed just enough to show you glimpses of something deeper, something real. but he was still heeseung—your husband, your childhood rival, and now the man who held your future in his hands.

the door creaked open behind you, and you didn’t need to turn to know it was him. you had grown attuned to his presence, the way the air shifted whenever he entered a room.

“what’s wrong?” his voice was quieter than usual, but still carrying that edge of command. he always knew when something was off, as if he could sense the turmoil swirling inside you.

you didn’t answer immediately, your gaze fixed on the stars outside. “they’re saying we’re not suited for each other,” you murmured, finally turning to face him. “that i’m not fit to be queen. that you made a mistake.”

heeseung’s jaw clenched, a muscle ticking in his cheek. he stepped closer, his eyes narrowing in that familiar way, but this time, it wasn’t directed at you.

“let them talk,” he said flatly. “they’re just waiting for us to fail.”

“and what if they’re right?” the words slipped out before you could stop them, the fear and doubt bubbling to the surface. “i was never meant to marry you. this isn’t the life i was prepared for.”

heeseung stared at you for a moment, his expression unreadable. then, to your surprise, he closed the distance between you, his hands gripping your shoulders firmly, forcing you to meet his gaze.

“i didn’t choose you because you were an easy choice,” he said, his voice low but intense. “i chose you because you’re stronger than you realise.”

you blinked, taken aback by the conviction in his words. heeseung wasn’t one to offer praise lightly, and hearing it now, in this moment, felt more intimate than anything he had ever said to you before.

“there are plenty of people who want to see us fail,” he continued, his grip tightening slightly. “but they don’t matter. what matters is that we don’t give them the satisfaction. we fight together.”

the intensity in his eyes sent a shiver down your spine, and for the first time, you saw beyond the cold exterior he had always shown you. there was something deeper there, something raw and unspoken. a partnership.

but the closeness also brought something else—a heat that had always been there between you, simmering beneath the surface. his hands lingered on your shoulders, his thumbs brushing the bare skin just above your collarbone, and suddenly the room felt smaller, the air thicker.

“you think i’m strong?” you asked, your voice quieter now, tinged with something more vulnerable. something real.

heeseung’s gaze flicked down to your lips, just for a moment, before returning to your eyes. his voice was rough when he spoke, low and filled with an unspoken promise. “i’ve always known.”

the charged air between you was impossible to ignore now. his fingers slid from your shoulders to your arms, the touch sending a jolt of warmth through you. it wasn’t just the weight of responsibility pressing down on you—it was him, his closeness, the undeniable pull you had both been dancing around for weeks.

you could feel the tension in every inch of your body, your heart racing as heeseung’s hands rested on your waist, pulling you closer, but still leaving just enough space for doubt. he hesitated, as if waiting for you to push him away, to remind him of the enmity that had defined your relationship for so long.

but you didn’t. instead, you leaned into him, your hands tentatively reaching up to rest on his chest. the fabric of his shirt was soft under your fingers, but beneath it, you could feel the steady beat of his heart, as rapid as your own.

“maybe i’ve been wrong about you,” you whispered, your breath hitching as the tension between you reached a breaking point.

heeseung’s eyes darkened at your words, his lips hovering just inches from yours. “maybe you have,” he murmured, his voice low and dangerous. but there was something softer there too, something almost tender.

before you could talk yourself out of it, you closed the distance between you and kissed him.

the kiss was like nothing you had ever experienced—fierce, desperate, and full of the years of unresolved tension between you. it was as if all the walls you had built around yourselves were crumbling in an instant, leaving nothing but the raw, undeniable attraction that had always simmered beneath the surface.

heeseung responded instantly, his hands tightening on your waist, pulling you closer as the kiss deepened. his lips moved against yours with a hunger that matched your own, and you could feel the heat radiating off him, his body pressing against yours as if he couldn’t bear to let you go.

it was overwhelming, the intensity of the moment, the way your bodies seemed to fit perfectly together, the way every touch sent a shockwave of desire coursing through you. you had spent so long fighting him, fighting this, and now, as his hands slid up your back, holding you close, you wondered why you had ever resisted.

when you finally pulled back, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting against each other. heeseung’s grip on your waist didn’t loosen, and you could feel the rapid rise and fall of his chest, his heartbeat as wild as your own.

“we can’t keep pretending,” you whispered, your voice shaky, your lips still tingling from the kiss.

heeseung’s eyes met yours, the vulnerability and uncertainty in his gaze mirroring your own. “no, we can’t,” he agreed, his voice rough with emotion.

for a moment, the world hung in the balance. you had crossed a line, and there was no going back. everything between you had shifted, and the question now wasn’t whether you would move forward—it was how.

heeseung’s thumb brushed gently against your cheek, his touch so tender it nearly broke you. “we’re in this together,” he said softly, the weight of his words heavy with meaning.

this time, there was no need to say anything more. you both understood what had changed between you, even if neither of you was ready to fully admit it. and though the path ahead was uncertain, you knew one thing for sure: you weren’t facing it alone anymore.

weeks passed, and with each passing day, things between you and heeseung slowly shifted. the cold, sharp walls that had once kept you apart were crumbling, revealing a warmth and understanding that neither of you had anticipated. where there had once been biting words and icy glares, there was now laughter, quiet conversations, and small gestures of affection.

the palace felt different. it was lighter now, with the growing sense of partnership between you and heeseung. your bickering had been replaced with genuine care, and though the wounds of the past hadn't fully healed, you were both learning to forgive. but it wasn’t just the emotional connection that was shifting—there was something deeper brewing beneath the surface. unspoken feelings, simmering tension.

it wasn’t until a grand banquet in honour of a visiting prince from a neighbouring kingdom that these feelings came to a head. you stood at the centre of the ballroom, dressed in a gown that glimmered under the candlelight. it hugged your figure perfectly, catching the attention of more than just heeseung. the prince—prince seojun—had been particularly charming throughout the evening, his eyes lingering on you a little too long, his compliments a little too bold.

“you are by far the most captivating presence in this room, your highness,” seojun murmured, his voice low as he leaned in slightly, a smirk playing on his lips. “if i had known such beauty awaited me here, i would have visited sooner.”

you laughed politely, glancing over your shoulder, searching for heeseung in the crowd. he was across the room, deep in conversation with some nobles, but even from the distance, you could feel his gaze on you, sharp and intense.

seojun continued, his hand brushing lightly against your arm as he leaned closer. “perhaps we could steal a moment away from the crowd? i would love to know more about the woman behind such an enchanting smile.”

before you could respond, a sudden shift in the air caught your attention. heeseung appeared at your side, his posture tense, his expression a mix of barely contained irritation and something else—something more possessive.

“princess,” heeseung’s voice was smooth, but there was a dangerous edge to it. his hand slid around your waist, pulling you firmly against his side. the claim was unmistakable. “i believe your dance card is full for the evening.”

seojun’s smirk faltered slightly as he glanced between the two of you, sensing the tension. heeseung’s eyes never left the prince, cold and unyielding.

“of course,” seojun replied, raising his hands in mock surrender. “i wouldn’t dream of overstepping. after all,” his gaze flickered to you, then back to heeseung, “she’s your wife.”

the words hung in the air for a moment, charged with unspoken meaning. seojun bowed slightly, a smirk still playing on his lips, before taking his leave. but even as he walked away, you could feel the lingering weight of his gaze.

you turned to heeseung, about to make a light-hearted remark about the interaction, but the look on his face stopped you. his eyes were dark, his jaw clenched, and his grip on your waist was firm—almost possessive.

“did he touch you?” heeseung asked, his voice low and tight.

you raised an eyebrow, surprised by his tone. “barely,” you replied, trying to play it off with a soft laugh. “why? are you jealous?”

his eyes flickered with something dangerous as he leaned down, his breath warm against your ear. “you’re my wife. i don’t like other men thinking they can take what’s mine.”

your heart skipped a beat at his words. the possessiveness in his tone, the way his body pressed protectively against yours—it was unlike anything you had ever experienced with heeseung. you had always seen him as cold, distant, but this... this was different. there was fire in his eyes, and you could feel it burning between you, a tension that neither of you had acknowledged until now.

“and what if i enjoy a little attention now and then?” you teased, testing the boundaries, wanting to see how far he would go.

heeseung’s eyes darkened even more, and in one swift motion, he pulled you even closer, his hand cupping the back of your neck as he leaned in, his lips barely grazing the shell of your ear. “i don’t care how many men look at you, but remember this—” his voice dropped, sending shivers down your spine, “you belong to me and i belong to you.”

a thrill ran through you at his words, and for a moment, you were speechless, your mind spinning from the intensity of his claim. the ballroom, the crowd, even prince seojun—all of it faded away as heeseung’s gaze held you captive. you could feel the heat of his body against yours, the possessiveness in his touch, and for the first time, you realised that this wasn’t just some marriage of convenience anymore.

heeseung cared—more than he was willing to admit.

your breath hitched as you looked up at him, your eyes searching his, trying to read the emotions flickering behind them. “and what about you, heeseung?” you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “do you want me to be yours?”

his eyes softened for just a moment, a flicker of vulnerability crossing his features before he leaned in, his lips brushing lightly against your temple. “you already are,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. “and i’m not letting you forget it.”

the banquet had left the air between you and heeseung charged with an intensity that neither of you could ignore. his possessiveness, the fierce look in his eyes when he claimed you as his wife in front of prince seojun, had stirred something inside you—something that had been simmering for far too long.

as the last of the guests departed and the palace quieted down for the night, the tension remained, lingering like an unspoken promise. heeseung walked beside you in silence as you both made your way through the dimly lit corridors toward your chambers. though no words passed between you, the air was thick with anticipation, the unspoken pull between you stronger than ever.

when you reached your shared chambers, heeseung opened the door for you, his gaze never leaving you as you stepped inside. you could feel his eyes on you, burning with a need that matched your own. the soft glow of the candlelight cast long shadows across the room, but all you could focus on was the man standing behind you, his presence overwhelming.

you moved toward the vanity, fingers trembling slightly as you began to remove your jewellery. you were acutely aware of heeseung standing behind you, the weight of his gaze almost tangible as he watched your every movement. his silence spoke volumes, filled with desire and unspoken emotions that neither of you had fully confronted until now.

the tension was unbearable. finally, unable to stand the silence any longer, you glanced at him through the reflection in the mirror, your voice soft but steady. “you’ve been quiet,” you murmured, meeting his intense gaze. “what’s on your mind?”

he didn’t answer immediately. instead, he stepped closer, his hand reaching out to brush against the bare skin of your shoulder. the touch was light, tentative, but it sent a shiver down your spine. his fingers lingered, tracing the delicate curve of your shoulder before he leaned in, his breath warm against your neck.

“i didn’t like how he looked at you,” heeseung finally admitted, his voice low and rough with suppressed emotion. his eyes met yours in the mirror, dark with jealousy and something more—something deeper. “or the way he made you laugh.”

your heart raced at the possessiveness in his tone. you turned to face him, taking in the tension in his jaw, the way his eyes blazed with something primal. his emotions were raw, laid bare before you in a way that heeseung had never allowed himself to show before.

“it was harmless,” you replied, stepping closer to him, your voice softening. “but i can’t say i minded the way you stepped in.”

his gaze darkened, his hand moving to your waist, pulling you flush against him. you could feel the heat of his body seeping into yours, the hard lines of his frame pressing against your softness. his eyes locked onto yours, filled with unspoken desire, but also with something more—something tender.

“i’m not the kind of man who likes to share,” he said, his voice a low growl as he leaned in, his lips hovering just above yours. “especially not when it comes to you.”

your breath hitched at his words, your pulse quickening as the fire between you flared even hotter. you couldn’t deny the thrill that ran through you at his possessive tone, the way his hands gripped you as though he couldn’t bear to let you go.

“and what are you going to do about it?” you whispered, your voice daring, testing the boundaries as your lips brushed his, teasingly close but not quite touching.

heeseung’s response was immediate. his lips crashed against yours, fierce and hungry, as if he had been holding back for far too long. the kiss was searing, filled with all the emotions you had both kept hidden. his hands roamed over your body, possessive yet tender, as though he was staking his claim but also worshipping every inch of you.

you responded just as fiercely, your hands tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer, needing to feel every part of him against you. the tension between you, the unspoken desire, it all poured out in that kiss, in the way his body pressed against yours with a need that matched your own.

heeseung’s hands slid down to your thighs, lifting you effortlessly as he carried you toward the bed. the air between you was electric, charged with desire and the intensity of emotions that neither of you had allowed to surface until now. he laid you down gently, his eyes never leaving yours, his gaze dark and filled with a hunger that made your heart race.

for a moment, he paused, his fingers brushing over your cheek with a tenderness that contrasted sharply with the intensity of what had just passed between you. his eyes softened, and for the first time, you saw the vulnerability behind them—the raw emotion that he had been hiding behind his cold exterior for so long.

“are you sure?” he asked, his voice husky but laced with care, as if he was giving you one last chance to pull away, to stop this before it went too far.

you gazed up at him, your heart swelling with the overwhelming emotions coursing through you. heeseung, the man you had once considered your rival, your enemy, was now looking at you with a tenderness that took your breath away. you reached up, cupping his face in your hands, your thumb brushing softly over his cheek.

“i’m sure,” you whispered, pulling him down into another kiss, softer this time, but no less filled with the emotions swirling between you.

what followed was slow, deliberate, and filled with a tenderness that you had never expected from heeseung. his hands moved over your body with care, as though he was savouring every touch, every breath. the fierceness from earlier softened into something more intimate, more meaningful, as he explored you with reverence, his lips following the path of his hands.

your name fell from his lips like a prayer, whispered against your skin in the quiet moments between kisses. heeseung’s touch was both possessive and gentle, as though he was claiming you but also offering himself to you in return. the intensity of the moment was overwhelming, but it was the tenderness in his gaze, the softness of his touch, that made your heart ache with something deeper than mere desire.

and as the night stretched on, your bodies moving together in perfect harmony, you realised that this wasn’t just about passion—it was about the connection you had been fighting against for so long. the rivalry, the bickering, the walls you had both built between you—it all crumbled away, leaving only the raw truth of what you felt for one another.

when it was over, you lay beside each other, your breathing heavy, your bodies tangled in the sheets. the room was quiet now, the only sound was the soft rustle of the fabric and the faint crackle of the dying fire in the hearth.

heeseung turned to you, his hand reaching out to gently brush a strand of hair from your face. his eyes, once so cold and guarded, were warm now, filled with an emotion that made your heart skip a beat. he pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around you and holding you against his chest as though he couldn’t bear to let you go.

you rested your head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. it was comforting, grounding you in the quiet aftermath of everything that had just passed between you. his fingers traced lazy patterns on your back, soothing and gentle, as he pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head.

neither of you spoke, but words weren’t necessary. the silence was filled with a sense of peace, of contentment that neither of you had known before. heeseung’s touch was soft now, filled with care as he held you close, his body warm and protective against yours.

and in that quiet, intimate moment, you realised something: this was more than just passion, more than just desire. it was something real, something lasting.

heeseung’s hand continued to trace gentle patterns on your back, his lips brushing your temple as he whispered softly, “are you alright?”

you smiled against his chest, your heart swelling with warmth at the tenderness in his voice. “more than alright,” you murmured, snuggling closer to him.

heeseung let out a soft sigh, his arms tightening around you as if he never wanted to let go. and as you drifted off to sleep in his arms, the weight of the past finally lifted, leaving only the warmth of the present and the promise of a future you were both ready to embrace.

the next morning, you woke to find heeseung already up, standing by the window of your shared chambers, his silhouette framed by the soft glow of the early morning light. he looked deep in thought, his expression pensive as he gazed out over the kingdom.

quietly, you approached him, wrapping your arms around his waist from behind. he stiffened for a moment at the contact but quickly relaxed, his hands covering yours as he let out a soft sigh.

“you’re up early,” you murmured, resting your cheek against his back.

“i couldn’t sleep,” he replied, his voice thoughtful. “i was thinking about everything that’s changed.”

you smiled, pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder. “a lot has changed, hasn’t it?”

heeseung turned in your arms, his expression soft as he looked down at you. “i never thought this would work,” he admitted, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “but i’m glad i was wrong.”

you gazed up at him, your heart swelling with warmth. the man standing before you was the same heeseung you had known all your life, but now, you saw him for who he truly was—not your enemy, not your rival, but your partner. your husband.

“i’m glad too,” you whispered, reaching up to cup his cheek. he leaned into your touch, his eyes closing for a moment, a small smile playing on his lips.

and in that moment, you knew that this was your new beginning. the past, with all its bitterness and tension, was behind you. what lay ahead was a future you hadn’t expected but one you were ready to embrace—together.

as heeseung pulled you into a gentle kiss, the warmth of the morning sun streaming through the window, you knew that this was the start of something beautiful. your marriage, once forged out of obligation and resentment, had grown into something real, something lasting.

and as you stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, you realised that sometimes, the best love stories were the ones you never saw coming.

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f1fantasys · 2 months

Text

FUCK (literally and metaphorically)

Summary - exes who get back together, leading to A LOT of smut.

Warnings : Smut, swearing, minors DNI, fingering, p in v sex, anal, oral sex - both male and female receiving.

4.8 K

You and Lando had been dating on and off few about 2 years now. It started off as friends with benefits - neither of you were able to put in the time and effort for a relationship because of his f1 and your modeling career - so it was just hook ups for a quick fuck whenever you were free and in the same country. Obviously though, feelings were soon coming in strong for the both of you, so you became official for a bit, until it was becoming too difficult, so you mutually broke it off. Until you found your way into each others beds more often then not. So it really was like a game of running around in circles.

You had last seen Lando 2 months ago, before he jetted to Asia and USA for his races, where you 'broke up' again. You'd told him that that was the last time, and that you both seriously needed to move on from each other. It was hard, you wont lie - the both of you full of emotions and not wanting to let go - but it was also for the best. Your careers were too demanding.

Last night though - he texted you.

In town for a bit, staying at the lake house with my parents for the weekend. Wanna come over tomorrow night? They'll be out.

Lan.. you started replying but he was quick to send another text.

I know what we said last time, but I really need to fucking see you

Okay, what time?

Say 10? Bring swim clothes

You just reacted to his message with a heart.

You were a mess today. Why were you so nervous to see him?

Maybe because you didn't want to walk away? Didn't want to have to leave him again?

You wore a skimpy red bikini and threw on a pair of denim shorts and tank top. The drive to the lake house was not far from yours - so you got there in good time.

You grabbed your bag and made your way to the door. Holding in a breath and you knocked.

''It's open'' you heard him say.

You pushed the door open and there he was. Standing in the kitchen in nothing but his swim shorts, opening a bottle of wine, sending you his deliciously handsome smile.

''There she is'' he said, putting the wine down and coming up to you before pulling you in for a tight hug.

You responded immediately to his touch. It instantly calmed you down and took the nerves away. This was your Lando - how could you be nervous about him, you thought to yourself.

''Hey Lan'' you breathed out.

He pulled back and looked at you, eye wandering between your own eyes and your lips.

But he couldn't hold back anymore. He crashed his lips to yours as he picked you up by your thighs and set you on the counter. His lips were sloppy and messy against yours, which had you moaning into the kiss. Lando took this as an opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth. You ran your hands along his bare back as he lowered his lips to your neck, sucking and biting at your sweet spot.

''Lan'' you panted.

''Missed you so fucking much this time'' he whispered, slowly peeling your top of of you.

''I missed you too'' you couldn't help but mutter between breathes.

''Fuck'' he said before pulling back. He must have seen the worried look so he quickly smirked at you. ''The nights' gonna end here and now if we carry on. Wine?''

You smiled back. ''Please''

He poured you both a glass before you went to sit outside. It was sort of chilly, so he had a fire going as well as the hot tub bubbling away.

''In or out?'' he asked, pointing at the hot tub.

''Hmmm, out for now'' you said.

You both took a seat and gazed up at the sky, just listening to nature, and happy to be in each others' presence.

''Soooo'' he started. ''How have you been. We actually didn't even catch up this time.''

''I know. But I've been good. I guess. Busy. Work's great.'' you looked at him as you continued- ''Missed you though. Been miserable without you''

Without any hesitation he pulled your chair close to his and interlocked your hands together.

''I've been thinking..'' he paused for a few seconds. ''About us. I hate being away from you. Not being able to text and call whenever i want. Not being able to kiss you when i want. I want to put in the effort to make us work. I want all of you, y/n''

You gasped at his admission. A bittersweet feeling washing over you. He was saying everything you've wanted him to say. But is it worth the risk? Getting back together, for real, and then having the risk of heart break when things don't work out.

Lando bought your hand up to his mouth and kissed your knuckles when you didn't respond straight away. But something in the way he was looking at your tonight made you feel like maybe, just maybe, everything would be okay. That there would be no heartbreak. You held on to that piece of hope.

''I want all of you too Lan. I want us to work, more than anything'' you pleaded back to him.

He smiled and pulled your whole body onto his lap, kissing you hard and deep. ''Just need to communicate, yeah?'' you nodded in response. ''And be honest with each other'' you added.

''Hmm mm'' he said, kissing you again. This time slow and sensual, still deep enough to make you see stars.

''You're mine forever, y/n. Never forget that'' he whispered.

''All yours Lan, always'' you said, peeling your top off for the second time tonight.

Lando gently stood up, lifting you with him, before stepping into the hot tub, lowering you down back on his lap, all the while his lips never left yours.

Things quickly turned heated, physically and metaphorically. The hot tub was steaming, already breaking a sweat on your faces. And your actions - well anytime the two of you were joined together, it was hot.

Lando's kisses became erratic, desperate. He was kissing, sucking, nipping, soothing every inch of your face and neck while all you could do was moan and pull on his hair, edging him on to give you more.

Your skimpy red bikini top was soon untied and ripped off of you, revealing your perky boobs and taunt, pink, hard nipples. You didn't miss how Lando's eyes turned a shade darker.

He lowered his mouth and began his onslaught on them. Sucking and biting at them relentlessly, over stimulating you.

''Lan, oh my god, slow down'' you panted, pulling harder at his hair so he'd get the hint. But of course he didn't. He was for sure leaving purple bruises for tomorrow, not showing any mercy.

He finally pulled back for air, but that didn't stop his fingers from sliding into your bikini bottoms to cup your sex. The movement had you jolting. He was the last person - besides yourself - to touch you there, and that was over two months ago. So to finally feel what-or who-you've craved so much of, sent your spiraling and reacting instantly.

He spoke with a teasing tone. '''Fuck, y/n. Already this wet. For me?'' he asked smirking at you, gliding his fingers through your folds.

''Fuck you Lan'' you teased back.

''Baby. You're gonna fuck me. My fingers. Now.'' he said, lining two finger up at your entrance, not pushing in yet though. You gave him a confused look when he stopped. But just chuckled. ''Fuck my fingers, y/n''

Something clicked in you and you finally got the hint. You quickly lowered your self on his fingers. The stretch burning you, but nearly not enough to what you craved.

''That's it. So tight and slick for me'' Lando said as he pulled your face down to lock lips once again.

You set a brutal pace, chasing the high that you needed, while Lando added a third finger to the mix, also finding your clit with his thumb.

''Lando, I'm close'' you moaned into the kiss. He didn't reply verbally though. He just curled his fingers at just the right moment, rubbing them against the spongy spot in your cunt, which sent you trembling over the edge.

Your orgasm left you body hard and fast, shaking while Lando held you in his arms, slowing his fingers, riding you through the intensity. You groaned his name, squeezing his biceps as you let your juices release on his fingers.

The two of your just embraced each other for a few minutes, before Lando carefully slid his fingers out of you and lifted you out the water to sit on the ledge with just your legs staying in the water.

The cool air of the night hardened your nipples and raised goosebumps on your skin as Lando pushed you back to lie down, as he stepped in between your legs and spread them apart.

He took your bikini bottoms off and threw them to the side. Now your cunt was on full display. He reached forward and licked the cum that was still dripping out of you. The feeling of his tongue sent a jolt of electricity through your body, making you latch onto his hair again.

''Hmm Lan, more. Please'' you begged.

His slow pace was soon replaced with a series of ferocious licks and sucks, his mouth lapping at your cunt as if he were starved - which he would argue he is.

''So fucking delicious babygirl, missed my favorite taste'' he murmured before continuing his activity.

You opened your legs further, giving him better access. He added a finger to play as well, and within minutes you felt that all too familiar warmth start to build up in your stomach. All it took was one bite of your clit between Lando's teeth and you violently came all over his face.

''Fuck y/n, that was a load full. So fucking sexy'' he commented, making sure to swallow all that you gushed his face with.

He sat back down and pulled your jelly-like body onto his lap again. The warm waster soothing your aching pussy that was still throbbing.

Lando took your face in his hands and peppered you with feather like kisses. His finger stopped at your mouth and you took it in without hesitation. Suck at it, eyes not leaving his.

You suddenly whined, an urge to taste him over coming you.

''Lan, need to taste you. Please'' you said, already climbing off him and pulling his shorts off underwater.

But he stopped you. ''Later. First need to fill you up. Need to feel you around me. Please y/n.''

Your brain short circuited as soon as the words left his mouth. As you forgot how much you wanted needed him in you.

You were quick to climb onto his lap again, this time his dick was rubbing against your inner thigh, feeling hard and hot.

You took him in your hands, pumping him a few times as he moaned your name.

''Oh y/n. Fuck.''

You giggled at him. You'd hardly touched him and he was putty in your hands, pulling at your hair now.

''Laugh at me again and I won't let you cum'' he said, very matter of factly, though his smirk told you a different story.

''Oh yeah?'' you teased, lifting yourself up slightly and running his cock through your folds.

''Babygirl you'll be the death of me''

''Hmmm mm'' you mumbled, already distracted by feeling him on your most sensitive parts.

Lando took your face in his hands again. He kissed you, his tongue sliding back in and then sucking harshly on your tongue. ''Gonna ride me yeah? Fuck me til you're screaming my name?''

''Lan'' you breathed. Your cunt clenching desperately, needling to feel him now.

He took his dick out of your hands and lined himself up at your entrance.

In one swift movement you sank down on him. He filled you up to the brim. You sat still, allowing your body to accept the intrusion, the stretch was sore, but in seconds the pleasure over came you and you began to move.

Lando's hands settled at your waist, his touch light, as he let you set the pace. Your hands found his hair again, pulling at it as you rode him.

''So fuckin tight for me angel. That's it baby, fuck me harder'' he mumbled between breaths.

By now all coherent thoughts had left your mind. All you could do was moan his name, chant it through gritted teeth, as your movements became faster and faster.

You don't think you'd ever ridden him - or anyone - this hard before. Your pace was brutal. You could feel him hitting just the right spots inside of you, and the water of the hot tub was splashing all over.

''Lan'' you moaned again, guiding his head to your boobs to let him suck softly on your nipples.

You were both so caught up getting lost in each other's bodies that you didn't hear the front door open and close, voices from inside the house muttering away.

That was until you heard Lando's mum speak.

''Lando? Are you outside honey?'' she called.

You both stopped in your tracks, movements coming to a halt.

You were so fucked out to react - to separate away from him, so you just sat still, his dick inside of you.

''Fuck'' he muttered.

''Yeah mum, but I'm good. Go to bed'' he yelled back.

But of course, Cisca, oblivious to what was going on, had to come outside.

''Lan -'' She started but gasped when she saw you - your back to her.

You just hid your face in his neck, not sure you could even get a word out while still feeling him twitch in your cunt.

He let out a nervous chuckle. ''Mum'' he said, smiling at her.

She was dumbstruck, confused? You didn't know.

''It's just y/n, mum'' he said, trying to detactch yourselves but failing to do so.

''Y/n, good to see you. Uh, I'm gonna go inside. I'll see you later'' she said, as something must have clicked in her.

You heard the sliding door close and let out a breath of relief, looking back at the house, then back at Lando.

''Fuck me'' he said, eyes still watching his parents inside, who he could see were desperately trying to busy themselves and go upstairs.

''I kinda was until... how the fuck am I gonna face your parents now'' you pondered, slightly turned off at thinking about it.

''I don't know. We'll deal with it later. For now I need to feel you around me again'' he said, pulling out and pumping himself a few times.

Once he saw the lights downstairs were turned off and no Norris' were in sight, he man handled your body to bend over the sides of the hot tub.

Oh boy you thought to yourself, he's not gonna let you off easily now.

''Anal, yeah?'' he asked just as he lined his tip up with your hole.

All you could do was nod your head. It was new for the two of you, but it was something you only did a few times. You pushed your ass slightly in the air.

And he did. He slammed into you, causing you to let out a guttural moan. He was quick to cover your mouth with his one hand, while the other pulled at your hair.

''Have to be quiet, unless you want an audience'' Lando said through gritted teeth.

You didn't. So you muffled your moans into his hand.

He fucking into you so hard, with so much force, you weren't sure you would be able to walk after. But you didn't care. It felt amazing. He felt fucking amazing.

Not 5 minutes later and you whined. ''Need to come Lan, not gonna last long'' and before you could even finish your sentence, you gushed all over his cock. Your walls clenched around him, throbbed around him.

''Jesus, fuck, y/n, so tight''

You'd think he'd slow his movements and ride you through your orgasm, but this was Lando Norris. Of course he continued to fuck into you with no mercy.

You were sure you would black out if he didn't slow down soon. ''Lan, too much'' you mumbled.

He suddenly pulled out of you and turned out body around so you could took at each other.

''Want me to stop?'' he asked, smirking.

And fuck no, you did not want him to stop. The way your pussy was clenching around nothing sent your body into overdrive. You needed to feel him fill you up again.

You didn't want to give him the satisfaction, so you bit your lip and he couldn't help but laugh at your antics.

''Thought so'' he said, before thrusting back into your normal entrance, very quickly setting a pace that had you seeing stars, while his hands settled on your boobs and fondled with them.

''Lan'' you whined again.

''Doing so good for me princess. So fucking good. Taking me to well.''

You could feel Lando's girth twitching inside of you, his movements getting sloppier by the second.

''Fuck, so close y/n. Together, yeah babygirl?'' he asked.

You nodded again, unable to form any words. He bought his hand up to wipe at the tears that were leaving your eyes.

''Almost there my love. Keep going'' he encouraged you.

''Lan I'm - '' but you were cut off by Lando pinching you clit, your orgasm washing over you which had your body jittering and shaking once again, unable to control yourself. And just at the same time you felt him shoot ropes and ropes of hot cum deep within you. His own body shuddering and whines and moans leaving his mouth.

He pulled your body back into the water to settle above him, dick still inside you, softening quickly.

You slumped forward on him, and he rested his arms on the back of the hot tub, both gasping for air, a thick sheet of sweat plastered on both your faces.

''Fucking hell. That was incredible y/n.'' he said he lifted your head to look at you. His eyes were still shades darker than usual.

You still couldn't form any words, so you smiled sheepishly at him.

''I love you'' he whispered.

Now all the air had left your lungs. It wasn't the first time he'd said it, but something about the way he said it now had reignited all the butterflies in your tummy.

You tears had now returned, so he gently kissed them away before settling his lips on yours, kissing you softly.

''I love you too'' you whispered back, in between kisses.

''Let's get cleaned up yeah? Cuddles after?'' he asked, knowing what your answer would be. It was always cuddles after sex, no matter what.

Lando carried you out he water and made a beeline for his room upstairs, hoping everyone was asleep, since you were both butt naked.

Lando placed you on his bed and disappeared into the bathroom, leaving you whining for him.

''Baby I'm back just went to get a warm cloth. He spread your legs apart, fully intending you just clean you up, but his brain nearly short circuited when he saw cum still leaking out of you - more so at the thought of his cum leaking out of you.

He bent down and as gently as he could- because he knew you were over stimulated- he licked a strip up your cunt, collecting as much cum as he could.

You gasped and jumped at the feeling, not expecting it at all.

''Lando! - '' but before you could even continue talking his hand hallowed your cheeks to pry your mouth open and the cheeky bastard let his cum drip from his own mouth down into yours.

You moaned, making sure to swallow every last drop, before he reached down and interlocked your lips once again.

''Dirty'' you chuckled, in between kisses.

''Hmm. Couldn't help it'' he mumbled, and after a while, he did eventually clean you up and spoon you from behind, the both of you drifting into an easy slumber.

You woke to the sun blazing on your body, strring sightly, forgetting where you were until you felt someone pull you closer.

Then it dawned on you - you were with Lando, and apparently back together with him, for real this time?

You could hear his soft snored so you gently turned your body to face his.

He looked angelic. Face contorted in a deep sleep still, mouth slightly agape, blowing cool air onto your own face.

Although you didn't want to wake him, you couldn't help but place a soft kiss on his lips.

You stayed staring at him, admiring him, for god knows how long, until he starting speaking, making you jolt at being caught.

''You're staring'' he mumbled.

''I'm gazing'' you cooed back.

''It's creepy''

''It's romantic''

Lando's eyes flew open and he immediately started tickling you all over.

''Lando! Stop!'' you shrieked.

''Romantic, huh? That's not how you rode me last night'' he smirked, settling his weight on top of you.

''Fuck you'' you mumbled, pulling him by his hair to connect your lips.

''Wrong. You want me to fuck you again, don't you?'' he asked, a knowing smile on his face.

You couldn't help but blush at his words, because, of course you wanted to fuck again.

But first, you wanted something else.

You pushed Lando back to lie on his back and threw your legs over him so you were now sitting on his stomach.

You very quickly noticed the slick dripping out of you. ''Someone's already so wet for me'' he firmly said.

''Shut up'' you replied, as you leaned down to kiss him again, rough and hard this time. You tongue slipping into his mouth for once, earning the sexiest moans from him.

You sucked on his bottom lip for some time until you felt his dick against your ass. Standing angry and tall, hard as rock.

You slid your hand back to pump him while you continued to kiss him, eventually bringing your lips to his neck to leave a few marks for him.

He started twitching in your hand, letting out more moans and a ''fuck, y/n, please'' bit of begging from him.

You made your way down to his nipples, sucking on each of them, biting them, then soothing them with your tongue, all the while you eyes remained locked on his.

Finally though, you slid down enough to see his cock standing in front of your eyes.

He already had pre-cum leaking from the slit, and the thick vein on the underside was protruding dramatically.

''Someones eager'' you threw his words back at him.

''Uh fuck please, please do something'' he begged again.

So you did. You put the tip of his cock in your mouth and sucked at it, hard, swallowing the salty pre-cum.

He hissed at the action. Hips bucking up unable to control himself.

Lando gathered all your hair and held it out of your face as you pushed his cock deeper into your mouth, deep throating him, instantly feeling him hit the back of your throat.

You pulled back for air, a string of spit still connecting your lips to his dick, so he couldn't help but pull you up for a quick kiss.

You pulled away quickly though, eagerly wanting to taste him.

He relaxed back and still help you hair with one hand, while his other rested behind his head.

Every few seconds he buck his hips up to go deeper inside of your mouth, causing you to gag and spring a few tears at the corners of your eyes.

''You're so fucking good at this baby. Best head ever.'' he managed between breaths.

Al you could do was hum at him. Soon his movements started to get sloppy and you could feel his dick twitching again. You knew he was close - so you did the one thing you knew would send him over the edge.

You sucked, hard on his tip again, and in no time he shot sheets of milky white cum down your throat, body shuddering. Listening to his moans had your pussy clenching around nothing, so you squeezed your thighs together as your rode him through his orgasm.

Eventually you pulled back. Your face was a mess. Tears stringing down your cheeks, slightly black with your eyeliner from last night, chin and chest slick with a mixture of sweat, spit and cum.

You breathlessly sat on his stomach again, but he quickly pushed you lower down so he could sit against the headboard and pull you closer.

Lando then began a serious of harsh licks off over your face and chin, chest as well, basically cleaning you up.

As he was doing that, you started to grind yourself against his thigh.

You were so wet already so you easily slid against him. rewarding him with harsh moans and grunts.

Once he 'cleaned you up'', Lando latched his mouth to your perky boobs again. You squirmed at the sensitivity until he started talking again.

''Baby, wanna fuck me again like last night? Ride me again? But this time no interruptions, yeah?''

His words had you dripping even more now. Your mind not being able to form any words. So you simply lifted your self up and lined his dick at your entrance. Then you sat. In one swift movement you sat down on him.

You didn't even give yourself any time to adjust. You very very quickly set a fast pace. Faster than last night if you could. You held his shoulders and gave him everything in you. Swift, quick movements of up and down.

''Oh Lan, yes. Feels so good;'' you mumbled, eyes rolling to back of your head.

''Shit'' he spat back, also not able to form any coherent thoughts. Just you riding him as if your life depended on it.

Within minutes your body was shaking violently as your orgasm ripped through your body. Your moans were uncontrollable, and anyone im the room next door would definitely be able to hear you, but you didn't care. You couldn't even move, so Lando had to chase his own orgasm but jerking his hips up to meet yours, fucking you relentlessly.

''Fuck y/n, fuck. So good. So fuckin tight for me. Gonna fill you up now. Maybe fuck a baby into you, yeah? You want that?'' he asked, not fully releasing what he was saying. Not that you did either, but you reply to him was quick. ''Please Lan, use me was your whore. Give me a baby, fuck. Please fuck'' you said through gritted teeth.

Hearing you call yourself his whore, Lando immediately came inside of you. White cum painting your walls endlessly. His whole body shaking underneath yours.

You both stilled for a few minutes. Letting your breathing come down to normal (if it even could?), just basking in each others sweat and breath.

''Fuck me y/n'' Lando breathed out after a while.

You couldn't help but giggle.

''I just fucked you Lan, already want more?'' you teased.

''You're gonna fucking end me'' he said, pulling you in for a gentle kiss as you played with his curls.

You could feel his dick softening inside you, but as he tried to pull out you stopped him.

You made a shocked face. ''Lan. If you want that baby you'll have to push your cum further into me. Not pull out'' you said smirking.

His expression was priceless but so fucking cute you had to laugh at him.

''I-I'' you started but you cut him off.

''Lan relax, I'm joking. I do, definitely want a baby from you, one day. But for now, I'm on birth control..so we should be okay..I hope'' you said slowly, knowing it wasn't always 100% effective.

But you both just got into a fit of giggles thinking about what you said to each other in that moment.

Just as he started kissing you again, someone knocked on the other side of the wall.

''Hey lovebirds. Thank you so much for the wake-up call. I appreciate it. Oh and how was the hot tub last night?''

It was Flo, Lando's sister.

You both froze at her statement, faces going red and although you shouldn't be, shocked that she probably heard every single thing from this morning.

''Ummm heey Flo'' you chuckled nervously.

Authors note - hope you all enjoyed this. Maybe the most smut I've written? I think so. But I had fun. ALSO - did anyone peep the vampire diaries ref in there?

REQUESTS ARE OPEN.

#f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 #f1 smut #lando norris #lando x reader #f1 fic #lando norris smut #lando smut

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sescoups · 4 months

Text

on my knees - choi seungcheol

masterlist

summary: your best friend and roommate is out of the country, and you come home to find nothing short of a disaster. who else would you have called but her brother?

word count: ~9k oops

a/n: I have no fucking clue what happened to me, but I just started writing and then didn't stop for like 4 hours so. here you go. you're welcome and also I'm sorry.

18+ MDNI!! warnings under the cut!

warnings: heavy kissing, seungcheol is the epitome of a Simp, p in v sex, unprotected sex (don't), oral sex (f receiving), slight size kink, let me know if I missed something!

You had been best friends with Sua since you were both six years old. One of the older boys had pushed you onto the ground, wanting to be ahead of you in the line for the slide. Most of the other kids had laughed as tears started pouring down your cheeks, your knee rubbed red and raw and your pretty dress covered in dust and gravel.

“Are you really so immature you can’t even wait your turn?” a small voice had piped up.

Through the haze of your tears, you had seen a pretty black-haired girl kneel down to help you out. She had brushed away the worst of the dirt from your dress, and leaned in to look at your knee.

“I don’t know much about scrapes,” she said thoughtfully, “but I think you should clean it. That’s what my mom always says to me and my brother.” Then she smiled before standing up and glaring at the boy again. “You’re a poopyhead, and I will never play with you.”

Thinking back on it as adults, you always laughed at her phrasing; even more amusing was the way the little boy had taken Sua’s comment way too seriously and tried to fight her in the playground. Before any of the adults had been able to intervene, Sua’s older brother had stepped between the two of them menacingly, arms crossed across his chest. He was three years older, so the other boy quickly back-tracked when faced with Seungcheol’s nine-year old frame. After the little boy had run away out of fear, crying, the two siblings had helped you off the ground and to your parents.

The rest was history; playdates as children, study dates in middle and high school, and spending every single summer vacation together. You had gone from climbing trees to shopping at the mall, and from learning the alphabet to crying your way through chemistry together. Well, you more than her, but still. The suffering was mutual.

Your dynamic remained largely unchanged throughout the years. You were the crier, and Sua was the fixer. You hated the way you cried at the smallest inconveniences, and often felt bad for Sua for having to fix it, but she always said it was cute. She said you were just like that, and that was okay. Sua had her own quirks, mainly being quick to anger - you reassured her that you didn’t mind holding her back from fights and silencing her before she could yell insults at undeserving people, so really, you were the same. Just, you know, in a different way.

Another thing that never really changed was the way Seungcheol took care of the both of you. He helped out with homework when he could, taught Sua how to fight (truly a dubious decision considering her anger, but that was his business and not yours), and scared away any icky boys that were mean to you.

It was a very different dynamic to how other siblings seemed to act, but since you were an only child, you wouldn’t really know. Though, to be fair, he seldom held back the snarky comments when the opportunity presented itself. He would roll his eyes whenever you cried, call Sua an idiot when she didn’t understand a math problem, and generally be a dick when you played games together. It was all in good fun, you supposed.

Now, being 24 years old and two years out of college, Sua was your roommate and your rock. She was the one who put up with your generally messy habits and lack of cooking acumen, and she only complained once a month or so. In return, you were the one to make sure bills were paid on time and keep the freezer stocked with ice cream during the hot summer months. A symbiotic relationship, if you’d ever seen one.

You saw significantly less of Seungcheol, though he was far from an uncommon fixture in your household. He knew the code for the keypad on the door, so sometimes he just showed up unannounced to raid your kitchen and take a nap on your couch, but you didn’t mind. He did tend to fix anything that was broken and clean up whatever you couldn’t be bothered to, so the transaction was fair in your opinion.

One fateful Tuesday, you received a call during your lunch break at work. Usually, you wouldn’t answer, preferring to take your 45 minutes to scroll down your social media feeds aimlessly while eating your food, but Sua had always had special privileges, so you picked up anyway.

“Hey, sorry, I know I’m interrupting your scheduled vegetable time,” she started, and you snorted in response.

“I am not eating anything with vegetables in it, and I think you know it.” You were opening the store-bought lunchbox while speaking, your phone tucked between your elbow and your cheek.

“If I didn’t cook you dinner every day, you would have scurvy,” she shot back without a second’s hesitation. “No, dumbass, I meant your own brain-turning-to-vegetable time. Duh.”

“Oh, that,” you replied, unphased by her insults and generally snarky tone. You were used to it. And also kind of deserved it.

“Yeah. Well anyway, something came up at work and I’m gonna have to take an unscheduled work trip.”

“Cool. Where to?”

“Tokyo, so not that far,” she sighed, and you could picture her running her fingers through her hair. She never did well with unexpected travel plans. “I have to leave tonight. I just thought I’d let you know, so you can make plans to get takeout tonight.”

You scoffed down the line, placing a forkful of bulgogi in your mouth and chewing quickly. God bless convenience store lunchboxes. “I know how to take care of myself, mom.”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full, you slob.” Again, you could picture Sua’s nose crinkling in disgust. “I’m kidding, by the way. I know you can take care of yourself. Just letting you know I’m leaving so you don’t think I’ve been kidnapped or killed or something.”

“Thank God I don’t have to deal with the paperwork for a missing person,” you deadpanned and took a drink of your Sprite. “No but for real, enjoy the trip. I’ll be fine, and so will you.”

“Thanks,” your best friend sighed back. “I’ll be back in a week or so. I’m gonna go home and pack now, so if anything’s a mess when you get home- actually, nevermind. That doesn’t bother you at all. Bye.”

“Hey-” you started to protest, but the line went dead and you rolled your eyes.

Well. At least now you could have sushi for dinner without having to listen to Sua complain about the smell of raw fish.

You were so ready to become a couch potato as soon as you came home. One of the new employees at work, Jun, had screwed up a pretty important document, so you’d had to stay late and help him fix it. It wasn’t his fault, he was still new, but you were tired nonetheless. You took your shoes off by the door and turned the lights on in the kitchen, placing the bag of takeout on the counter before you heard it.

The water.

You had never had any issues with the pipes in your apartment, but something had obviously gone wrong with the pipes under the bathroom sink, because the floor was absolutely flooded. You gasped and shut your eyes tightly for a second, willing the problem to be miraculously gone as soon as you opened them again. Alas, no such luck.

The tears pressed behind your eyes, begging to make their escape. You tried to hold them back as you thought about what to do to solve the problem. The faucet wasn’t on, so it was definitely the pipes. Damn. You thought about calling the apartment management and asking for help, but their turnover time was two days at the best of times, and the office was already closed for the day. You heaved a deep sigh as you settled on the best option you could think of. You pressed the name in your contacts and begged the universe that he would pick up.

“What’s up?”

Seungcheol sounded relaxed and unbothered, and you could hear the chatter of a TV in the background. You hated to bother him, but hey, it was his little sister’s apartment too. You cleared your throat to try and get rid of the thickness in your throat brought on by the tears.

“Hey, Cheol,” you began, and you heard him sit up immediately and pause whatever was playing on the TV.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

He sounded worried; he usually only called you an endearment when he was worried or teasing you. Clearing your throat had evidently not been enough to get rid of the tears in your voice. Some of them finally escaped in tracks down your cheeks, and you swore, leaning your forehead against the doorframe.

“So uh, I just got home, and Sua isn’t here because she’s in Tokyo and I-”

“Y/N, I don’t care about Sua right now. I know she’s fine, she landed half an hour ago. What’s going on with you?”

“The guest bathroom is flooded, like completely, and I don’t know what to do.”

You heard the rustling of clothes and what sounded like keys jingling through the phone. “Jesus Christ, I thought you were fucking dying,” Seungcheol scolded, and you hiccupped a little, apologizing. “No, don’t worry darling, I’m coming over to help, okay?”

“Okay.”

You were sniffling, and you heard him curse under his breath. You hung up after a quick goodbye, and then you were left alone with the mess again. Looking closer, you realized that the bath mat was soaked along with a towel left on the floor. You sighed and took your socks off, deciding to do something productive while waiting for your knight in shining armor.

You took a picture and sent it to Sua, who replied immediately with a bunch of question marks and swear words directed to the apartment management. She also realized they would be no help at this hour. Great.

Once the soaked bath mat and towel were hung up and dripping into the tub as opposed to the flooded floor, you started clearing out some of the decorations that were taking up floor space. There was a giant plant, two laundry baskets, and a really heavy wooden dresser that held all your clean towels - you didn’t want the wood to rot.

You heard the door open while you were in the process of moving the plant. Honestly, you should have waited for Seungcheol to move this one; the plant was heavy as fuck and really awkward to carry, and you could feel your back protesting before you had even gotten it outside of the bathroom.

“What the hell, Y/N.”

The voice was closely followed by a pair of hands grabbing the plant from you and heaving it outside of the door in mere seconds. Showoff.

“Are you okay?” Seungcheol asked after placing the plant down on a towel, grabbing your upper arm gently. You nodded, and he sighed, squeezing your arm. “Let’s see the- oh fuck.”

You couldn’t help it, you started laughing. Hysterically. The bathroom floor was covered in two inches of water, and the sound of more spraying out was echoing off the walls. Your best friend’s brother glared at you for two seconds before he started laughing too. It wasn’t funny, but it kind of was. How had this even happened? And how had Sua not seen anything when she was home to pack?

“Sorry, Cheol,” you giggled, wiping under your eyes to get rid of the tears that were still falling. Typical. “I, uh, wanted to move the plant and the dresser to make more room and-”

“Darling, that plant was almost heavier than you are. Not to mention that dresser. What were you thinking?”

His voice soothed your panic. He had been solving your problems for the past eighteen years, after all; this was nothing he couldn’t handle. He looked ruffled, you realized. He had been relaxing after a long day at work when you called, and had gotten to your apartment as fast as he could just to help you. And now he was here, being all nice and caring and calling you sweet names. You felt like a stupid child.

“I-I’m sorry. For calling you, I shouldn’t have, I-”

“Absolutely not. You can call me about anything at any time, you got that?” he asked sternly, gazing directly into your eyes. You swallowed, but nodded. His words gave you unwelcome butterflies, the intensity of his gaze making you look away.

“Got it,” you replied when a nod didn’t seem to be enough for him. “Uhm, so how do we deal with this?”

For a moment, the only sound you could hear was the steady spray of water coming from under the sink. You realized that all the products underneath would be useless now, and you would probably have to change out the entire cabinet housing the pipes. You felt a migraine start a steady throb against your temples, and you deflated even more, resting against the doorway.

“It’s okay, I’ll fix it for you, darling,” Seungcheol said softly, pulling you in for a hug. Your stomach erupted in butterflies again. You seriously needed some psychological help. “Just go change, okay? You must be exhausted.”

You shook your head, but relented when he lifted an eyebrow at you. You went to your room and closed the door. For a moment, you just stood there, staring at nothing. Your bathroom was flooded. And your best friend’s brother was helping you fix it, calling you sweet nicknames and saying shit straight out of a romance novel - as if your dumb crush on him needed any more encouragement. You sunk onto the edge of your bed for a moment, just breathing deeply and blinking back more tears. Enough was enough.

When you were fourteen or so, you’d had a crush on Seungcheol. Who wouldn’t? He was tall, pretty, smelled good, and helped you with your homework. Ever since then, it would come and go, usually at the most inopportune times. You appreciated his looks pretty often, particularly when he came over to fix stuff for you and Sua, but you tried not to think about it much - mostly out of self preservation. He was still pretty, still nice, still smelled good, and whenever you let your mind wander for more than five seconds, you knew you were in danger.

You definitely should get it under control. First of all, he had known you since you were six. He had seen all your weird phases, watched you find your own identity, and that came with some really cringy stuff. Additionally, you were his little sister’s best friend. You had some loyalty to her, sure, but more than anything you were sure that he saw you as an extra sister or something. Considering the amount of time you had spent at their house growing up, that would only be logical.

Armed with the reminder of why he would never be into you, you shook it all off. You located your regular home attire - bike shorts and a big t-shirt which origins you forgot - and put your hair up and out of your face. Then you steeled yourself again, vowing not to cry at the sight of the water, and walked back towards the accursed bathroom.

You found Seungcheol on his knees in front of the open cabinet from where the water came. He was hunched over, hand in front of him to block some of the water and seemingly looking for something. His white t-shirt had been sprayed with water, and it was sticking to his chest. You gulped at the sight, repeating that he saw you as an annoying crybaby to yourself in order to stop the stupid butterflies that had seemingly taken up permanent residence in your guts.

“Do you need a flashlight or something?” you asked timidly, making him look up at you. He paused and blinked at you once, twice, before clearing his throat and nodding. You got out your phone and turned the flashlight on, carefully stepping in behind him so as not to splash him.

“I, uh, think we need to remove this middle shelf from the cabinet,” he said, having positioned himself to shield you from the spray.

“Alright,” you replied, placing your phone to the side and leaning to grab the shelf before being stopped by one of his hands. He had placed it carefully on bare skin so as not to get your clothes wet. Damn him. “What? I’ll just grab it and get it out of the way for you.”

He scoffed. “You’ll get wet.”

Now it was your turn to blink at him stupidly, eyes wide and questioning. You could feel your cheeks burning, as did your arm where his hand was resting. This stupid, stupid man was going to make you fall in love with him, and that just couldn’t happen. At all.

“Who cares, Cheol? It’s just water. Let me get it out of your way, and I’ll hold the flashlight again, okay?”

He grimaced, but let go of your arm. You grabbed both sides of the shelf and lifted it. It took a bit of pressure, but eventually it came loose. You backed up slowly and brought the shelf over the tub with the soaked bath mat and dirty towel. Gross.

Even though you had been fast, Seungcheol had been right; your entire torso was soaked with water. You decided that you could do something about it after the leak was dealt with, and so you just ignored it and grabbed your phone again. Your friend was staring at your front with a wrinkle between his brows, mouth open a little, and you rolled your eyes affectionately.

“Cheol.” He looked up at you. “It’s fine. I know you wanted to shield me or whatever, but it’s just a shirt. Now please, help me solve this?”

He nodded wordlessly and turned back to the considerably more spacious cabinet, taking a deep breath. His pout was cute, and you hated your heart for beating faster at the sight of him.

Seungcheol seemed to finally have found what he was looking for, and reached into the cabinet. You altered the angle of the light to make sure he could still see what he was doing despite the shadow of his arm. He grabbed ahold of something and started tugging, his biceps flexing distractingly and his eyebrows screwing up in effort. You were definitely not holding the flashlight in a particularly helpful way anymore, but thankfully your helper didn’t seem to mind.

After a second or two the water slowed before stopping completely, and you cheered out loud. The sound had somehow become grating after only an hour, and the silence was very much welcome. Seungcheol stood up with a wince, holding a hand to his back like an old man. Without thinking, you pulled him into you and gave him a bear hug. You felt tears prick at your eyes again, but held them back. You were just so grateful to have him.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

You felt him laugh against you before he wrapped an arm gently around you and returned the hug. You pressed your cheek to his chest, just standing there and enjoying the embrace for a while before your brain would inevitably come back online. You felt his chin press against the top of your head for a second before he pulled away suddenly.

“Shit, sorry, I’m all-”

“I said I don’t care, stupid,” you scoffed, but your cheeks were definitely getting red now. How could you have just grabbed him like that? And embraced him? You would have cried if you hadn’t been so tired your head felt like it was full of cotton.

Now that you thought about it, you were extremely tired. It felt like a movie effect, the way your blood pressure just suddenly dropped and you swayed to the side. You were expecting a splash and a very uncomfortable kiss with the tile floor, but instead you found yourself back in Seungcheol’s arms. Oh.

Again with the stupid romance novel shit. The universe was testing you for sure. How were you supposed to resist him, really? You were doomed. Even the thought of your infatuation with him being one-sided could no longer bring you back down to the ground. You were simply fucked.

“When was the last time you ate anything?”

And he cares? Fuck the universe, seriously.

“Uhm, I think it was lunch. I stayed pretty late at work, so-”

“Please tell me you have food.”

“Y-Yeah. It’s uh, it’s on the counter in the kitchen.”

Without hesitation, the man picked you up and carried you into the kitchen. Your heart was going crazy, as were the butterflies in your stomach. You were at a loss for words, just going limp in his arms as he brought you to the dining table and placed you on one of the chairs gingerly. You continued to simply blink at him as he disappeared back into the hallway and came back with his hoodie, pulling it over your head before disappearing into the kitchen.

You wanted to scream and kick your feet, because was this man even real? You had no idea how you had deluded yourself into thinking your feelings toward him were sisterly, because currently, your pussy was screaming for him to come ruin you. And honestly? Both your heart and your head kind of agreed at this moment. You were so screwed.

When he came back with your sushi all plated and a glass for the drink you had bought, you couldn’t help but let the tears come back. You hated that you were so weepy, especially in front of a man you apparently were head over heels for, but it was just who you were. You were sad? You cried. Happy? Cried. Angry? Waterworks. You were helpless to it, and apparently to him, too.

“Good job picking up food on the way back home,” he teased, placing the plate in front of you. Then he poured your drink into your glass for you, promptly ignoring the way you were wiping your cheeks with the sleeve of his hoodie.

“Shut up, I’m an adult,” you pouted back. He snorted loudly and sank into the chair opposite you, looking at you as you picked up your chopsticks and got ready to eat.

“Sometimes, maybe,” he drawled with a smirk. You glared at him, but your teary eyes had little to no effect, and you knew it. “I’m kidding, baby. I know.”

He was still studying your face as you placed the first piece of heaven into your mouth, sighing happily and smiling in delight. It made him smile, too, and you could have died at the sight of his dimples. At this point, you had just accepted the butterflies and their claim to your stomach; doing anything else seemed futile.

“I’m sorry I’m so weepy, Cheol,” you said between bites, pouting a little. He shook his head but you interrupted him before he could speak. “No, really. There was no reason to cry so much, or so many times, but I just- I don’t know. I literally got home right before I called you, and that was, what? At around-”

“9.30.”

“Yeah,” you sighed, leaning back in your chair and tilting your head back in exhaustion. “9.30. I’m just tired, is what I’m trying to say.” You sat back up and huffed, sending him an embarrassed smile.

“And what I’m trying to say,” Seungcheol said while you readjusted the sleeves of his hoodie, “is to not worry about it. I know you’re an emotional person, but that’s okay.” He paused for a second, smiling when you almost dropped your sushi into the soy sauce. “Being emotional is just a tiny part of who you are. You excel at so much; it’s okay to have a few flaws. We all do, I promise. Besides, being emotional isn’t really a flaw, it’s just part of being human.”

At this, you couldn’t help but laugh a little. First of all, he was way too well-spoken to be a man in his twenties. Second of all, if he was implying that he, of all people, had any flaws, he was dead wrong. You had never seen him fail at anything, had never seen him do something awkward, even as a child. God, you wished he had, because maybe then he could have remained the brother of your best friend instead of becoming so incredibly meaningful to you.

“As if you have any flaws,” you mumbled, sticking another piece of food in your mouth. At least the sushi was good.

“Oh please, sweetheart. I’m twenty-seven and single. There’s plenty wrong with me.”

You shook your head vehemently. “Being single is not a flaw, you dummy. It’s just a relationship status. Who cares.”

“As if that’s all it is,” he laughed back.

“Okay, so the fact that I’m single reflects badly on me? ” you asked, raising an eyebrow. “Good to know.”

Your plate was empty, and your chopsticks were resting on the edge of it. The only sound in the apartment was a steady, slow drip from the drying bath mat in the bathroom. You were staring at one another from across the table. Why the tension suddenly was so thick was anyone’s guess. All you knew was that the air in your little kitchen suddenly felt suffocating.

“You’re single?” he asked after a while, and you laughed a little.

“Yeah, Cheol.”

“What about that dude, what was his name… Mingyu?”

“Ew,” you said, wrinkling your nose. “God no. We went on like, one date and then decided it was weird to be anything other than friends. He feels more like a brother than anything.”

“What about Chan?”

“Wh- Chan? That was four years ago,” you laughed, shaking your head. At the curious tilt of his head, you kept going: “He was fine, we just got stressed during college and broke up. It happens.”

Something about this line of questioning felt momentous, for a few reasons. One, he was inquiring about your dating life, a topic the two of you generally never talked about. Two, he remembered the name of potential partners that had been in your life, even ones that hadn’t stuck around for long (or at all, in Mingyu’s case). And three… the way he looked at you was different. There was something in his gaze that you couldn’t place, something you didn’t know if you dared hope for.

“Well he’s obviously an idiot,” Seungcheol said under his breath. You were probably not supposed to hear it, but you did. Your heart stuttered in your chest as he looked at you guiltily, as if he had done something wrong. “I just meant that- uhm.”

A few seconds passed in silence. You barely dared to breathe. You were hoping he would keep going, hoping he would clarify before your thoughts went way too far again. The tension was so thick it could have been cut with a knife. Finally, he let out the heaviest sigh you’d ever heard.

“No, you know what, I meant it. He was an idiot for breaking up with you, because anyone would be lucky to have you.”

Time stopped. What do you say after that? You wanted to scream with joy and jump his bones, of course, but you couldn’t exactly do that. What if he didn’t mean it like that? If he didn’t feel the way you hoped he was implying? Because he, or more specifically his sister, was such a huge part of your life, and awkwardness was just not an option.

“Are-” you started, but blinked and started over. “Are you… serious?”

“Of course I am, Y/N.” He sounded almost exasperated. He ran a hand through his slightly damp hair, making it fall over his forehead in the most attractive way you had ever seen. Fucking. Unfair. “I’m not- I mean. I get it if you don’t feel the same or anything, but-”

“Feel what, exactly?” When he stared at you in confusion, you elaborated. “Please be clear with me, Cheol. I don’t want to keep guessing.”

It had come out as a whisper, but he had heard you. His expression softened, and the wrinkle between his brows disappeared. His mouth was slightly open as he seemingly looked for the right words. Your heart was beating out of your chest, and you almost felt it in your throat.

“Baby,” he started, and it made your breath hitch. “I don’t think I’ve ever met someone as dense as you are.”

“Hey!”

“No, seriously,” he kept going, not a single trace of evidence that he was joking, “do you actually mean to tell me you don’t know how I feel about you?”

“Look, I don’t-”

“I guess you don’t, and in that case, that’s my bad.” He got up from his chair and rounded the table, crouching next to your chair and grabbing your hand. “I am so ridiculously into you, it’s not even funny. Sua literally won’t stop teasing me about it, neither will my parents or my friends. No matter how hard I try I can’t stop thinking about you, but I’m honestly not sure I would want to even if I could. You mean so much to me, Y/N, and I really don’t want to be overbearing but I- fuck, I can’t-” he shuts his eyes in an attempt to collect himself, “I love you, baby, and if you don’t feel the same that’s fine, but I at least need you to know that I’m on my goddamn knees for you.”

Your glass, still containing some of your soda, toppled over from the force with which you left your chair. The way you threw yourself at Seungcheol forced him back, but you took the opportunity and placed yourself in his lap as you kissed him deeply. It took him half a second to respond, but then he was kissing you so ardently that you never wanted him to stop.

His arm wrapped around you from behind and pressed you to his chest. You could not give less of a shit that he was sprawled on your kitchen floor, or that you were down there with him, because you were kissing him. You were kissing the man that you most definitely had been in love with since you were a teenager, and fuck did it feel good.

“I, uh, take it you feel the same, then?” he asked after having reluctantly pulled away. You pressed your forehead to his.

“I bet that I have loved you longer.” You were breathing heavily, already missing the feeling of his lips on yours.

“Absolutely not,” he replied before kissing you again.

This time, you couldn’t hold back. You nibbled gently on his lower lip before soothing it over with your tongue. Seungcheol groaned deep in his chest and brought his left hand into your hair, pressing you even closer to him. He opened his mouth, letting your tongue tangle with his, and you felt the way he became jelly underneath you. You were not faring much better, your panties hot and sticky and your hands shaking. Despite this, you snaked one hand into his hair and tugged on it; his hips jumped in response, the action seemingly completely involuntary. You didn’t think you’d ever experienced anything hotter.

“Please, baby,” he heaved as you trailed your lips down his neck, “I can’t take it.”

You rolled your hips against his slowly, and that seemed to be his breaking point. He rolled you underneath him before standing up and taking you with him, carrying you into your bedroom while you followed the shape of his jaw up to his ear with your mouth. A shudder streaked through him as you sucked on the spot behind his left ear, his arms tightening around you and a hoarse moan leaving him.

You barely noticed him closing your bedroom door, only brought back to reality by the sensation of falling when he dropped you on your bed. You whined at the loss of contact, which made him smile; he loved the way you craved him, because honestly, he felt the exact same way about you. So he was quick to cover your body with his, his lips back on yours with a shuddered sigh from the both of you.

He felt so big above you, and yet you felt so safe. Not once had he done anything to hurt you. In fact, he had always been the one to take care of you and prevent you from being hurt. (Along with Sua, but you didn’t really want to think about her at that moment). His weight on top of you made you shudder in delight, your hands starting to wander. You played with the hem of his white t-shirt, still damp from the earlier bathroom catastrophe, but you didn’t care at all. All you wanted was to feel his skin against yours.

He was breathing as if he had run a marathon when he pulled away from your lips. He stared into your eyes, looking for any sign of reluctance, but not finding any.

“Are you sure, darling?” he asked, and your heart swelled about three sizes.

“I’m so sure, Cheol. Please, please, I need you.” You were properly whining now, but you were far past caring.

“Okay baby, okay,” he breathed, pulling away to get his shirt up and over his head. He was about to lay back over you, but froze and let his eyes wander your body. He shut his eyes, his forehead wrinkling once again as he took a few deep breaths. “You in my hoodie and underneath me, I can’t- Y/N, baby, I need a second, I’m so-”

You giggled a little before grabbing the hem of said hoodie, pulling it up and over your head. Apparently, that didn’t help, as Seungcheol’s grip on the sheets tightened and he cursed under his breath.

“I thought this would be better,” you said in confusion, blinking up at him.

“I’m actually going to die,” he gritted out, sounding as if he was genuinely in pain. “I don’t think you realize what seeing you in a wet t-shirt did to me earlier, sweetheart. What it’s doing to me now is just torture.” You flushed at his words, having forgotten that little detail. “Wait. Is that my shirt?” You glanced down and flushed even more when you realized it must be. “Fuck, gonna be the death of me, gonna fucking-”

He cut himself off by pressing his lips against yours again. Your head immediately got fuzzy again, the only thought you could formulate being that of his dick inside of you. When he ground his hips against yours and you felt the outline of it, you let out the most sinful moan Seungcheol has ever heard, which caused his hips to keep grinding into you without his brain’s permission. You disconnected your lips from his for just long enough to pull your wet shirt off your alarmingly hot body, and the man on top of you didn’t even have the strength to look at you without a shirt. He might actually have came in his pants if he did.

You didn’t even mind, because you finally had his skin pressed against yours. The heat of him poured over you, driving you absolutely insane and making you whimper against his lips. If he didn’t do something in the next minute, you would just have to take care of yourself.

“Cheol-”

“Please say it again,” he begged, his lips trailing down your neck toward your breasts.

“Cheol,” you sighed, and he moaned against your skin, his dick grinding perfectly against your clit even through four layers of fabric. You barely recognized your own sounds even as you felt them leave your lips, so high on his proximity you couldn’t have produced a thought if you tried.

When you repeated his name one more time he finally closed his lips around your right nipple, his deft fingers playing with the other and his cock still pressing deliciously against your pussy. Your hips lifted to grind back on him, and he actually whined for you.

“Seungcheol,” you whined, and his only response was a harsh thrust of his hips and another whine. “Please, take my shorts off, I need you to fuck me so bad.”

He let go of your nipple, chuckling as he looked into your eyes and dragged his hands down to rest on your hips. “Want these off?” he asked, flicking the elastic of your bike shorts against your skin. You nodded frantically, pressing your hips up into his again. He looked like he wanted to protest, so you decided to do the only logical thing and beg for his cock.

“Cheol, please please please, take my shorts off? I need it, please,” you begged, your eyes big and innocent as you stared into his. “I want your cock, baby, want it inside me, please.”

Honestly, it was no surprise that his confident facade crumbled along with his will to tease you any longer. If he was telling the truth, and you had no reason not to believe him, he had been in love with you for a long time. You had played dirty by begging him for his cock when he had already been on the verge of losing his mind - especially with those big, innocent eyes of yours. How was he supposed to say no to you?

“Evil, evil woman, fuck,” he muttered to himself as he all but tore the shorts down your legs along with your panties.

The sight of you, his absolute dream, naked beneath him made him believe in God for two whole seconds, for who could have accomplished something like you but an almighty deity? He must have shaped you with his own two hands, he thought, before coming back to his senses and thinking that no, you were a creation of your own. No one but you could have accomplished something like you.

With very little preamble, Seungcheol lowered himself between your thighs, kissing up the inside of each thigh as he went. He looked up and met your gaze, and you had never seen a more erotic sight. Sure, other people had gone down on you before, but none of them had been Seungcheol; none of them had been the one that counted. His big brown eyes met yours, and you swore you saw raw hunger in them.

“May I, baby? Please?”

“You- You’re begging to eat me out?” you asked, in complete and utter shock. You had figured this was somewhat of a chore to him, something that needed to be done both to woo you and to prep you for his cock. One look at his glazed eyes had you changing your mind.

“Yes,” he said without hesitation. His voice was hoarse and his eyes desperate, that simple look giving you enough material for many fantasies in the future. “Please, let me eat you out?”

What were you supposed to do, say no? Absolutely not. You simply nodded at him, and he fucking dove for it. His tongue explored your folds gently but firmly, and as soon as the flavor of you met his taste buds, he was in heaven. His hips ground into the mattress of their own volition as he was lapping at you, his tongue mapping you out and figuring out what brought you the most pleasure.

Seungcheol’s eyes were shut in pleasure, your juices covering his chin all the way up to his nose, but he couldn’t think of anything better. He wanted to drown in you, on his stomach between your legs, or - if he was allowed to dream - underneath you while you were grinding all over his face, taking all the pleasure you could from him.

You weren’t exactly complaining, either. His tongue felt divine, moving to gently circle your clit before he sucked it into his mouth. When your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging in pleasure, your lover let out a grunt that sent vibrations traveling through your entire body.

“F-Fingers, Cheol, please-”

He just grunted an affirmative and pressed his middle finger into you slowly. The warmth surrounding his finger drove him insane, making his hips press harder against the mattress and his eyes squeeze tighter. Having something to clench down on brought your pleasure to even greater heights, and you started to feel the familiar tightening signaling your release. You had felt the outline of his dick earlier, and you knew you would need another finger to make him fit.

“Another, I need you to fit later, baby.”

Your voice came out shaky, but the man consuming your pussy like it was the best meal he’d ever had didn’t seem to mind. He simply let his ring finger join his other inside you, grunting when he felt how tight you were around him. The tightening in your lower belly grew more and more intense by the second, the filthy noises of Seungcheol devouring you bringing you that much closer to the edge. You let out a mewl that sounded like it came straight from a porno, and felt his grip tighten on your thigh.

“I’m so close, baby, so close, please-”

“Come for me,” he growled hoarsely before resuming his delicious torture of your clit.

You followed his request a second later, moaning loudly and squirming around on the bed. His free hand pressed down over your hips to keep you still as he coaxed you through it, and he didn’t stop until the overstimulation almost hurt.

His fingers left your pussy gently, absolutely covered in your slick. You blushed as he put them in his mouth, moaning at the flavor as if you were the best thing he’d ever tasted. And to him, you were. He would remember the flavor of you until the day he died.

Your chest was rising and falling as you gulped down air. The way Seungcheol couldn’t help but grind into the mattress again made you want to cry, because how could he be so perfect? And how could he want you, of all people?

When he kissed you again, you could taste yourself on his lips and tongue, and you loved it. It was a reminder of just how voraciously he had just eaten you out, and you took the opportunity to reach down and cup him over his underwear. He hissed and pulled his hips back, panting already.

“I- you can’t.”

“But, baby I just want to return the favor-”

“My love, if you touch me again I can’t guarantee that I will have faculties to be inside you.”

His words made you laugh, both because of how ridiculous his phrasing was, but also because of the effect you seemed to have on him. Had he really been driven so far by making out with you and making you cum? It seemed like it.

“I love you so much,” you ended up breathing out. He gazed into your eyes so adoringly you felt like time stopped again.

“I love you more, Y/N.”

His response prompted you to kiss him, and he deflated on top of you. As he sunk further into your embrace, his still-covered dick brushed against your wet core, and the whine he let out was almost pathetic.

“I hate to ruin the moment, but please, let me be inside you now. I think I’ll die if I can’t,” he confessed. You laughed out loud again before nodding, kissing and sucking a trail down his neck while he removed his boxers. “Condom?”

“I don’t have any, but I have an IUD and I’m clean.” You could practically see Seungcheol’s brain grind to a halt. “But, I mean, if you don’t want to we can just wai-”

“No!” he almost yelled, his entire face flushing pink. “No, I’m clean too, and I- fuck, I would love to be inside you without a condom.”

You nodded, and he took a deep breath. The thought of having him inside you without a barrier excited you to no end, and it seemed he felt the same. You kissed him passionately again while he lined himself up with your core, and moaned through a sigh as he pushed into you. He didn’t have a monster cock or anything, but it was still bigger than what you were used to taking.

As he bottomed out, he let out a punched out sigh. You could feel him shaking on top of you, and did your best not to move or clench down on him. Unfortunately, your pussy didn’t exactly obey you and clenched down anyway. It made Seungcheol’s breath hitch, and he squeezed his eyes shut tight so as not to look at you while he was trying not to cum.

“I swear,” he wheezed, “you are going to kill me.”

His words made you chuckle, which in turn made him groan and bury his face in the crook of your neck. You were ready for him to move, and told him as much, but he still needed a second. You could feel tears sting the corners of your eyes, as per usual feeling weepy as soon as you felt a big wave of emotion. To distract yourself, you locked your lips with his and kissed him with all the passion you had left to give.

As your tongue tangled with his he groaned low in his throat, and his hips thrust into you of their own accord. Once he had started, he couldn’t stop, and you didn’t want him to. He started out fairly slow, taking his time to make sure you weren’t hurting at all. Then you accidentally clenched down on him, and he could no longer hold back.

He started pounding into you, his cock reaching the deepest parts of you and making you dizzy. You moaned out every time the tip of him hit the spongy spot inside you, and you couldn’t help the way you were clenching around him. You were hurtling toward your end so fast it was almost alarming. He filled you up so perfectly, so perfectly thick and long, it was as if you were made for one another.

Seungcheol was mumbling an endless stream of praise, grunting every time your cunt squeezed him a bit tighter. He felt like he was in heaven, your slick walls molded around him in a way that made him mourn the time spent doing anything other than this. He wanted to keep you like this, impaled on his cock and making you feel as good as you ever had.

Sadly, he was so wound up he wouldn’t be able to last as long as he usually did. While he didn’t blow immediately as he had been worried he would, he started feeling his balls drawing up around five minutes in. The way your nails were scratching down his back wasn’t helping his situation.

In an effort to save himself from cumming before you, he lowered a hand to circle the nub of your clit gently. The extra stimulation was exactly what you needed to build the rest of the way to the edge, and you tangled your hands in his hair as your thighs shook.

“Please, Cheol, baby, I’m gonna-”

“Oh thank God, please cum around me, baby, wanna feel it,” he begged, and it did the trick.

Your orgasm was spectacular, your entire body feeling like it was on fire as you exploded around him. You were moaning his name, clawing at his back and arching your back to the high heavens. Your toes actually curled. It was the orgasm of orgasms.

Seeing you like that, your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he brought you pleasure was enough for Seungcheol to follow you over the edge. He came so hard he saw nothing but white, his hips stuttering as he spilled himself into you. His face was pressed into your neck, but his moans could not be concealed even if he tried.

You both lay there, panting and soaked in sweat, for a pretty long time before he finally pulled out and rolled off of you. He sprawled on his back and stayed like that, his eyes shut in complete and utter bliss and his heart beating out of his chest. Your hair was an absolute bird’s nest around you, and there were tear tracks running down your cheeks and into your hairline.

You clumsily flopped over to rest against his side, and he pulled you in until your head was resting right over his heart. You slung your bare leg over his waist, and he groaned in what sounded like agony.

“You can’t do this to me,” he whined, and you giggled lightly at him.

“I just put my leg on you, baby,” you said, looking up at him innocently, and he had to shut his eyes for a second and remind himself he wasn’t dreaming. You, yourself weren’t entirely convinced all this wasn’t a dream; and if it was, you never wanted to wake up.

“Okay, well you’ve just seen what seeing you in a hoodie and bike shorts does to me, so,” he reminded you, and you bit back a grin. It was good to know you could tease him easily.

You laid in silence for a while, just listening to his heart beating against his ribcage. Every once in a while it would slow down, and then he would look down at you and it would speed back up. Your heart seemed to match the pace of his, and you found that you loved it that way.

“So, “ Seungcheol started, and you pulled yourself up on your elbow to look at him as he talked. “That… just happened.” You snorted into a laugh, and he joined you, flicking your forehead gently. “I uh, I’m going to a work thing on Friday. I usually don’t bring a date because, well, because I’m usually single, but maybe, this time, I could bring you?”

You blinked at him slowly, admiring him in the light from your bedside lamp. He was pretty no matter what, but with his cheeks glowing and his eyes glittering, he was beyond what was natural, in your opinion. You stroked a bit of his hair behind his ear and hummed.

“I mean, are you not single anymore?” you asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Uhhhh-” he was interrupted by your laughter, and he pouted at you jokingly. “Don’t do that! I get scared I fucked up,” he said and rolled over to wrap his arms around you.

“I’m sorry,” you giggled, “I just don’t know either.” You paused. “Hey Cheol?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you want to be my boyfriend?”

At your words, his entire face lit up. He started giggling and buried his face in your hair, trying to hide from view. Even still, you knew he would be blushing. His arms squeezed tighter around you as he pulled you even closer, and you didn’t even mind that you couldn’t breathe.

“I was going to ask,” he ended up whining once brain function had returned to him. “Can I?”

“I mean, sure?” you answered, trying your hardest not to just lean in and kiss away his pout. Your willpower sucked, so you did it anyway.

“Great! Hey, Y/N, would you be my girlfriend?”

You bit your lip to hold in your laughter, but all it did was summon your boyfriend’s gaze to your mouth. You released it and broke out into a huge grin, nodding.

“I would love nothing more.”

“So what you’re saying is,” Sua said thoughtfully, “you finally put him out of his misery?”

It was a week later, and you were sitting on your balcony with Sua and drinking coffee. The bathroom floor was now dry, and while the stupid bath mat had been unsalvageable, everything else had been fine. The apartment management had gotten the leak fixed after five days, proving that calling Seungcheol had been the right choice for more reasons than one.

Even thinking about him, you couldn’t help but smile. Your boyfriend. The one who had brought you to a work function as your first date, and the one who had gotten jealous because you had greeted a coworker of his when he was getting you a drink. The one that had helped you save your apartment from water damage. The one you had loved for the past decade.

“Okay but how could I have put him through misery if I didn’t know he liked me, hm?” you asked, raising an eyebrow at your friend. She had her eyes closed, face turned toward the sun like an old lady.

“You cannot be serious,” she said incredulously, turning toward you and opening her eyes wide to show her shock. “You’re telling me you didn’t know Cheol was in love with you? He has been so down bad for you since we were like fourteen, man. He bought you flowers for your graduation. He reminded you to take your allergy pills before going to a dog café.” You flushed a little at your own blindness, but Sua just sighed and turned back toward the sun, her eyes closed again. “At least it will be easy to kill him if he hurts you.”

a/n: if you liked this, please don't forget to like and reblog! <3

masterlist

#svt x reader #seventeen smut #svt #svt smut #seventeen x reader #seventeen fluff #svt fluff #seventeen fic #seventeen fanfic #svt fic #svt fanfic #sescoups writes

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livwritesstuff · 6 months

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“Steve,” Eddie mutters, “Stop it, you’re staring.”

Steve is staring, eyes fixed on a family sitting in a cluster of seats two rows ahead of them on the commuter rail — a mom and dad with three kids, the oldest no older than ten, the youngest four or five. They’re not too much older than Steve and Eddie’s own kids (who are seven, five, and two), and by the looks of the princess dresses and mouse ears and branded souvenir bags they’re also on their way home from the afternoon Disney on Ice show at the TD Garden.

“That mom,” Steve says, addressing Eddie even though his gaze doesn’t shift away from the unsuspecting targets of his relentless judginess, “is upset because her kids are whining and misbehaving, but they asked for food and she said no, and they said they were bored and she ignored them.”

In Steve’s defense (not that Eddie would actually say any of this to him; he doesn’t need the egging on), his assessment isn’t exactly incorrect. All three of those kids are either colossally melting down or just on the verge of doing so, and both of their parents are mostly ignoring them.

“God, and they’re gonna grow up learning they can’t rely on their parents for help,” Steve continues, “I just...I just don’t get why we had to go through all those evals and interviews and home visits and shit before we were deemed suitable parents when any idiot straight couple can just have a kid with no regulation whatsoever.”

“Steve,” Eddie says through gritted teeth as he glances at their own daughters to make sure they aren’t eavesdropping (they’re not – Moe and Robbie are sitting by the window and playing with the toys they’d gotten to pick out during intermission, and Hazel is halfway to asleep in Steve’s lap), “My love — little pitchers.”

Steve only shrugs, but he does drop the subject for the rest of the train ride.

The universe must hate Eddie (or love Steve) because that family gets off at the same station as them. Hazel is completely sacked out by then, and Steve had taken her while Eddie manned the older two and they’re busy running ahead of him to the car so there’s literally nothing he can do when Steve detours away from them to follow a few yards behind the other family.

When he finally makes his way back over to them, it’s with a gleeful grin on his face.

“I knew it.” Steve says with a gleeful grin, “I knew they had to be shitty parents.”

Eddie eyebrows flew up, because – seriously, the fucking audacity on this guy.

“You know what I always say – you can either be a good parent or have a clean car, and that car was fucking spotless.”

“Steve Harrington.”

#all eddie had wanted to talk about was how they manage to turn the ice rink into a basketball court #steddie #liv’s steddie dads verse #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie dads #judgy steve my beloved #<- new tag let's party

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help-itrappedmyself · 7 months

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Danny Punches a Clown

Danny is just about done with today. He’s tired and cold and he doesn’t know where he is. After running from his parents to an entirely different dimension, he feels he has the right to be a little bit cranky. He has barely any supplies and no idea where he’s going to sleep tonight, and all of that was before an idiot dressed as a clown started running around.

Danny does not like clowns in general, but this one was pissing him off. The buffoon had shown up with a bunch of people in clown masks hauling guns, and they dragged him into an old warehouse with a crowd of people. Now they were all sitting quietly, downstairs while he and two other children had been taken away from the goons into a room alone with the man fully dressed as a clown. He’s got green hair, a purple suit, the makeup on his face, over what appears to be scars but might just be special effects makeup to make this particular clown even creepier.

When the crazy clown started muttering about bats, Danny gave up on trying to see where this would go.

“Hey, crazy clown?” He asked, standing up. He had interrupted the crazy clown’s monologue to his own computer, but the clown seemed too shocked to be upset about this. “ Look, I’m sure you have some sort of reason for all this hostage-taking and gun-waving, probably even for dressing like that.” Danny shrugged, the two other kids who are with him, two boys that are entirely too young for this situation, are looking at him like he’s insane. Which, valid, the crazy clown does have a gun, but Danny is already mostly dead, so he doesn’t have the same concerns. Danny makes his way over to the side of the desk that the clown is on, realizing that his monologuing to the computer is actually because he’s streaming something. Eh, whatever, not his business so Danny ignores it. “ However, I already have one fruitloop in my life and that is more than enough for me, so I’m going to have to leave now.”

The crazy clown starts laughing, full-on bent at the waist, arms wrapped around his stomach laughing. And Danny just wants to sleep, so ignoring the fact that this will put him on the video, he takes one more step forward and just punches the clown in the face.

He has to use his ghost strength for it, but he concentrates the ability on only his arm so he doesn’t completely transform. Like this, he is strong enough to knock that crazy clown right out in one punch and he falls to the floor in a heap.

“ Right, well, you kids want to come with me?” Danny asks the children. They nod immediately and run up to him, he lowers them out the window down to a stack of crates below, waiting for them to climb all the way down to the street below before lowering the second kid, because he doesn’t know how sturdy those crates are. Once the second kid is down and they’re both running down the street, he follows.

He’s about to try and figure out what to do about all the other people inside when the sound of a fight breaks out in the warehouse and the gunshots are Danny’s cue to run. He does not know enough about wherever he is to start showing off his powers just yet and he doesn’t really have enough strength to use them at the moment anyway, given the fight with his parents and his lack of sleep.

So he runs, and hopes that everything will be okay as he tries to find someplace to take a nap. And he forgets about the fact that he is going to be on that video until after he wakes up the next morning.

Now with part 2!

#dpxdc #dc x dp crossover #batman #danny phantom #my writing #dc x dp

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twizzie-lairs · 8 months

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My Darling, My Honey

Alastor X Fem!Reader (Part 1)

Quick Notes:

This is when both reader/you and Alastor are both alive. (... we'll probably end up in hell later on btw...)

Reader is an artist/painter.

*disclaimer: i'm not a great writer, nor am I good at writing characters*

Part 1:

On a cold, dreary night, you take solace in a speakeasy to escape your dreadful home life.

You, the reader, are stuck in what feels like a hopeless, loveless, and potentially abusive marriage that was arranged by you and your husband's parents as more of a political/business move.

So you find yourself sneaking out to the next town over at night whenever your "husband" is away. On nights like those, you left the ring at home. It was only a reminder of your hellish life, you wouldn't let anything reminiscent of your husband come with you to your little escape/happy place.

During your occasional outings, you befriended the speakeasy's owner/proprietress, Mimzy, who becomes your most trusted confidant because you didn't have any "friends" or family you could trust- they were the ones who put you in your living hell after all.

Mimzy also became your biggest fan and patron once she found out you're an artist/painter. Many of your paintings became centerpieces at the bar and your art became synonymous with this prestigious speakeasy of hers.

You pocketed all this money and didn't even have to hide the fact that you were painting. He hated art, so as long as it didn't stay in the house, he didn't care where it went. It was the one good thing you had going for you.

After a particularly prolonged period of time of your husband being home and having to endure so much of his bullshit, you find yourself seated at Mimzy's bar with a drink in hand.

A while into the night, but while the night was still young, you hear Mimzy's voice talking to a voice you've never heard before. You were a regular, so you knew all of the other regulars (you were more of an irregular regular, due to your visits being erratic because it all depended on when your husband was out of town).

But this voice caught your attention immediately. When Mimzy and this unknown man round the corner, your head whipped around, just to lock eyes with this new visitor to the bar.

Upon meeting your gaze, you are met with an unexpectedly warm smile, which makes you gasp and make you debate if the man or the alcohol was the culprit of the blush on your face.

Mimzy walked over with the man and introduced him and you to each other. You extended your hand towards him, and much to your surprise, he laid a gentle kiss upon the top of your hand and told you his name. "Alastor."

After witnessing this exchange, Mimzy giggles and runs along and goes to chat with the other patrons, leaving you and Alastor to chat on your own.

Oh and chat you do, yes indeed. You lose track of time and before you knew it, it was time to head home.

Not once in your life had you lost track of time talking to someone before. Never had you felt the butterflies in your stomach like that. The kindness and genuine interest this man showed you, being attentive to your every word, you felt alive. You don't know the last time you felt like this, if you ever have.

-> Part 2

#hazbin #hazbin hotel #fanfic #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x y/n #alastor x reader #alastor x you #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #part 1

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whois-miki · 9 months

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—- # ‘get out of my office, Luke.’

Luke Castellan x Apollo!fem!reader

warning - cussing, percy third wheeling, argument

others - situationship, not dating, percy : 🧍🏼, this is all over the place,

Luke tries to find out what Percy is good at to find his godly parent

While y/n is trying to mind her own business in the infirmary, a not so subtle, Luke pays her a visit.

a/n - sTOP, why do i relate to Percy so much 😭 ✋🏻

also gonna post a poll soon if this does well <3

“why are we even going here, it’s not like i’m the son of Apollo.”

Percy complained when Luke dragged him over to the infirmary.

“thats where your wrong buddy. some Apollo kids are really bad archers and really good medics.” he says as he opens the infirmary door to reveal a teenage girl tending to a camper.

The girl’s head quickly snapped to look at them with a kind look on her face before it was quickly washed away when her eyes set on the older boy.

“what do you want, Castellan?” she said clearly annoyed, at the sight of this Luke smirked knowing that he was getting on her nerve already without even saying anything.

“what? i can’t see my favorite nurse?” he said dramatically and put a hand over his heart like he was hurt.

“isn’t that the kid who killed the minotaur?” the patient groaned in pain as she looked at the younger blond boy. “rest, you can’t do anything until you recover, hun.” The nurse said to the young girl who was still in awe of Percy ( the patient is like 10 )

The nurse quickly muttered a sleeping spell and looked back at the two boys who were still in the same position.

“how can I help you?”

“well, sweet girl, I need to find out if Percy is the son of Apollo.”

She groaned at the nickname and then studied Percy. she quickly mumbled a no and then turned her back to the crate of medicine, that needed to get restocked. “what do you mean, ‘no’ ?” Luke shot annoyance bubbling up inside of him

“i mean, no, Luke. I’ve seen him at archery. he has no aim.” she explained. “Well, not all Apollo kids are good at archery.” she scoffs a bit and then fired back, “but most are, and i’m not letting him experiment in my office just to try to find what he’s good at.”

Percy looked at Luke and then at the girl and said, “she’s right, now let’s go.” he said as a not so subtle plead for help to get away from the awkwardness.

both of the older counselors ignored the blond boy and resumed their argument. “why can’t you just let him do something!” Luke hissed,

“I said no, dumbass, and if he’s anything like you he might just kill a patient.”

“oh thanks a lot, fuck face.” he grumbled

“I mean it, get out of my office, Luke.” she demanded, Luke sighed angrily before lightly pushing Percy out of the door.

once they were outside. Percy turned to Luke and asked, “who was that?” “Y/n L/n, meanest Apollo kid you’ll meet.” “how do you two know each other?”

“we’re friends.” as Luke said this Percy look at him confused. “what? then why were you arguing?”

“its kinda our thing, i guess.”

“that can’t be healthy.”

“yeah, but i love ‘er. she’s great.” Percy then looked at him like he was crazy and quickly muttered an ok without giving another thought.

Luke smirked a bit and then thought of something and ran back into the infirmary room, slightly kissing her on the cheek playfully and running out after she yelled with a flustered face.

“GET OUT OF MY OFFICE, LUKE.”

a/n :

sorry this is shit <3 love you all!!

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #pjo x reader #luke x reader #luke castellan x you #pjo show #percy jackon and the olympians #argument #percy : 🧍🏼#wish i was y/n 😔✋🏻#no because this actually happened to me once ( i was percy 😔 )

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cordeliawhohung · 25 days

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the prowl - single dad! Price x teacher! stripper! Reader (fem) taglist

[7] intended plurals

cw: minor mentions of masturbation

You stare at the slip of paper in your hands and you feel your stomach plummet through the floor.

All murmuring conversations around you fade into white noise. Every childish giggle and the scrape of chairs along the freshly lacquered floor. You read off the carefully scrawled out numbers before you. The paper is hastily torn. Printer paper shredded for a quick note to be doused with rich dark ink. It swirls and cuts in sharp corners and dashes. A moment of disbelief settles over you before you’re able to swallow down the fact you’re staring at John Price’s number.

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes, voice low and hushed. “I know it’s a tall order, but it would settle my mind a little. We’ve never been apart so long before. Call me an overbearing parent, if you want.”

Setting the paper face down on your desk, you carefully push yourself to your feet. Your eyes glance over to Amelia’s desk where she’s busy fetching last week’s homework from her dinosaur bag. You notice there’s a new charm on the zipper — a stegosaurus with comically large googly eyes. Her movements are slower than usual. Heavy lethargy pulls at her body as she sorts her items. When she turns, you see the irritation rimming her eyes. The crystalline blue hue of her iris looks nearly translucent by comparison.

“How long will you be gone?” you question, turning your attention back to John.

“Only a week,” he assures. “Normally I can weasel my way out of these sorts of conferences but didn’t get so lucky this time. She’ll be staying with Diana, of course, but she’s not… the most talkative with me. Don’t want to irritate her by just trying to get information about my kid.”

“She doesn’t tell you about Amelia at all while she’s watching her?” you ask, baffled.

“Only the important things. Pictures and daily updates aren’t on that list, unfortunately.”

Nodding, you allow your brain to soak in the information John’s tossed your way. A phone number. A trip. His daughter. Your student. It’s a simple task. Inconsequential. It isn’t wholly uncommon for teachers and parents to exchange numbers. Oftentimes it’s easier to communicate over text than in what little office time you have. Yet, this feels different. Wrong. It’s wrong because you still think about running into him at the tea shop the other week. You can recall his wet clothes clinging to his chest, and how you touched yourself to that very image later that night with shame broiling deep in your stomach.

Could you keep your fingers off your phone long enough — off your cunt long enough — that it would be professional? Healthy? Can you fully separate the John standing in front of you now and the John whose side you once curled up against? Whose sent you bathed in?

“It’s a tall order, and I know I’m askin’ a lot of you already…” he continues.

“No, not at all,” you cut him off. “It’s not a problem. I couldn’t imagine having to be away and not get to talk with your own child.”

“You’re sure?” he asks. “I don’t want you to feel obligated to do me any favors.”

Shaking your head, you smile. “It’s fine, John.”

A huff escapes with the chuckle he gives you. He looks different today, you realize, than all the other times you’ve spoken with him. His hair is more mussed than normal, and the lack of his usual business casual attire isn’t lost on you. A plain charcoal grey t-shirt fits snug and close to his torso, and you try not to stare at the thick hair that decorates his arms. His shoulders are… big. Bigger than the dress shirts he normally dons would have you believe. Dense and wide enough to get lost in.

“Daddy?”

Both you and John turn to find Amelia anxiously pulling at her skirt. Moisture brims so heavily in her eyes you’re surprised they haven’t spilled over yet. You’re reminded of that day she tripped on the playground with shredded knees and fat tears rolling down her cheeks. Now, the scabs have healed and you can’t even make out the scars. Amelia Price is stubborn. She refuses to cry the same way she did that day, no matter how much the pressure builds behind her eyes.

“Are you leaving now?” she asks, bottom lip trembling.

“I’ll be back before you know it, pumpkin,” he promises. John sinks down to kneel in front of Amelia. She looks puny next to him. Doting hands straighten out her uniform, attempting to undo the anxious wrinkling going on in her skirt as the fabric is clutched between her fists. “Granny’ll take good care of you.”

Their farewell is tearful and long. Long enough that your other students begin to whisper and stare, so you attempt to control the damage before it fully starts. John embraces her. Lifts her small frame into the air to hug her tightly as he cradles her head like it’s the last time he’ll ever see her. All eyes are on you by the time they’re finished sending one another off, and no questions are asked as Amelia returns to her seat. John leaves the room with a tight lipped smile and a wave to you. You refuse to let your eyes linger on the wet patch on his shoulder.

For the rest of the day, Amelia seems to be merely a shell of the girl you had grown to know. Despondent and quiet, she hardly participates in any of the activities you’ve prepared for the day. Her curious mind seems just as silent as she is. She does not raise her hand in question or quirk her head in curiosity throughout any of your activities. That vivacious girl is hardly present at all. Stuck in her mind. Thinking about nothing but her father and how much she wishes he was home.

You try to rekindle that spark inside of her. Feed it all the fuel it could ever dream of consuming with engaging stories and silly voices. Nothing rouses her. Even the coloring project you have them do for their English time fails to bring a smile to her face. Her usual love for art has dissipated into dust just like everything else she ever seemed to enjoy. She sits, curved forward over her coloring page as she lazily draws inside of the lines with peeling, cracked crayons.

“Wonderful job, Amelia,” you croon, kneeling in front of her desk.

Your praise hardly stirs a response from her other than a sheepish smile that quickly fades into a quivering lip. All your students have good and bad days. Children her age aren’t exactly known for their emotional maturity, but she’s downright pitiful like this. Like a wounded animal.

Tapping your fingers on her desk, you quietly grab her attention before you lean closer to whisper. “When you’re finished, why don’t you let me take a picture? I’ll send it to your dad.”

For the first time that day, Amelia’s eyes illuminate with something other than tears. Mouth agape and crayon still firmly in hand, she stares up at you, dumbfounded.

“Really?” she asks.

You grin. “Really. Take your time, and come find me when you’re finished, okay?”

She grins back. “Okay!”

When Amelia finishes her coloring, she demands to be in the picture you send to her father. She holds the paper out like it’s a work of fine art. Something she’s slaved over for months. A toothy grin graces her lips as she tilts her head to the side in the way little kids always seem to do. She giggles profusely when you show her the picture, and you quickly text it off to the number John gave you before the next lesson starts.

Amelia is quite the artist today!

It takes him some time to respond. You can already imagine him, half awake, head held up by the tips of his fingers as he sits in some meeting too far from home. Maybe he’s slouching like he did that night at the club. Legs spread far and wide, head tilting to the side as he listens to whoever’s speaking. You wonder if he’ll visit you — visit Saffron — again when he returns home; his way to unwind after a long trip. It’s been a while since you — Saffron — last saw him.

Your thoughts are mercifully interrupted with the quiet buzzing of your phone.

Glad to see her smiling again. Thank you.

Once Amelia’s learned you’re her new, unimpeded access to her father, she’s consistently requesting you to send pictures and messages to John. You can see the way she holds herself back. Quietly separating the important stuff she wants to tell him now, from the stuff she’ll tell him herself when he gets home. Still, nothing matches the way her cheeks get rosy and her lips pull into a grin when you read off a response from him during what little down time the kids have between lessons. It’s simple enough, and John is polite in his responses. Professional. Proper.

This is a respectable relationship to hold with a parent.

You have to keep that mantra in your head lest it degrade into something terrible.

On Friday, Amelia arrives to class, beaming. She doesn’t greet you like she usually does, but every time you look at her while lecturing or reading, she’s grinning. She’s held that expression so long you’re certain her face is going to freeze that way. Forever joyous. Patiently waiting for… something.

It isn’t until their first recess that you’re able to sniff out the reason for her behavior. Her hair is different. Adorable. Long, inky locks are half pulled up into strands that gently swirl down her back. A fat, puffy bow adorns her hair, keeping the strands of her hairdo together. It’s a pristine white, but you can see small designs that you can’t quite discern from a distance. You watch it bob and bounce as you lead them outside into the dwindling summer heat.

Before she has the chance to run off and join her friends on the playground, you catch her attention. “That’s a pretty bow, Amelia. Is that new?”

Giggles burst free from her lips as she sways back and forth. They’re sharp and shrill, as if she’s been holding them in all day. Blue fabric swirls around her knees as she moves, nearly buzzing inside of her own skin.

“Granny bought it last night. I saw it, and wanted it because it reminds me of your dresses!” she explains, eyeing your clothing.

Now that she’s closer, you’re able to make out the pattern. Little lollipops and hard candies adorn the white fabric, giving the appearance that it’s polka dotted. You have a dress that’s eerily similar in patterning to it hanging up in your closet at home. Today, you’re wearing daisies and moons — doesn’t quite match, yet her enthusiasm is touching all the same.

“That’s so sweet of you. It looks beautiful on you.”

“Can we take a picture? For papa?” she asks.

Refusing to deny her request, you sneakily fish your phone out from the pocket of your dress to open the camera. You attempt to get her to pose — big smile! — but she only looks at you with pinched brows.

“No, you have to be in it, too,” she insists.

“Do I?” you challenge.

“He has to see that we’re matching!”

Hesitant, you bite into your bottom lip. Sending pictures of Amelia to John is something you have no gripe with. It’s his daughter — after all — but a picture of you? It unsettles your stomach. Disrupts the bile and has the muscle angrily churning in protest. In want. Just as you open your mouth to make up an excuse, or explain that it’s not proper, you lose the will. When she stares at you with eyes so wide and hopeful, you find it difficult to deny her anything.

“Alright well… maybe a video will be easier,” you give in.

Propping up your phone on a nearby bench, you let Amelia take the lead. You’re awkwardly in frame behind her, hands politely folded in front of you as she rattles off her story. She makes a show of displaying her new bow, and telling the camera all about how her grandma got it for her. How it reminds her of you. When she’s finished, she does a cute, clumsy spin to show it off properly before she looks at you expectantly.

“Okay. Spin,” she directs, swirling her finger at you as if it were a wand.

Chuckling, you follow her command with stiff, awkward limbs. You try not to be too showy. Too much. Too anything. Luckily, your lackluster performance satiates Amelia long enough for you to walk back up to your phone and cut the recording. You send her off to play with her friends before her break is used up and wasted talking to you. The video is already sent John’s way before she even reaches the top of the slides.

For the rest of the day, you try your best not to look at your phone. It’s not a difficult task to accomplish. Children this age need a lot of attention and looking after. Besides, you have a job to do, and talking with John Price isn’t on the agenda. You spend your time reading stories, instructing writing, and leading projects. By the time all your students are gone and off enjoying the weekend with their parents, you’re tired to the marrow. Fatigue seeps into every cell in your bones, webbing cracks into the structures until you can do nothing but sit and rot in your chair as you grade easy assignments with a red pen and stickers.

You’re yanked out of your thoughts the moment your phone vibrates against your thigh. Allowing yourself a quick mental break, you pull it free and unlock it to find the preview of the video you sent John staring back at you, along with his response.

My girls.

You can’t stop staring at it. Those two words. One of them is certainly a mistake. Girls. Girls. Plural. More than one. More than one and his. His girls. It’s a typo. An error. It should be singular. Girl. His girl. His daughter. Nothing to do with you. You’re not his. Nothing of his.

The words seep into your brain. They take purchase in the raw, messy parts of you where they feed off the sparse nutrients lurking in your grey matter. The worst desires you try not to crave. As you read the words again, you hear them in his voice. Low and deep. Quiet. Tired. As if you’re pressed against his side again attempting to keep his mind off a long day. It ruins you. Shreds apart the most delicate parts of your skin until all of you is an open wound begging to be saved. To be kissed. To be loved.

The screen goes black and you slam it face down on your desk. It’s a typo. That’s all it is. And still your heart pounds in your throat as if to choke you and put you out of your misery.

A pitiful squeak leaves the chair as you stand. Every ounce of blood in your body rushes to your core. You feel it pool in your face, ears, and chest, leaving you with clammy hands and colder feet. Everything within you is telling you to run. To flee. So you do. You shove your phone back into your pocket with no intention of responding to him, and you leave with your bag hastily thrown over your shoulder.

“Goddammit,” you mutter.

You can run, but the damage is already done. John’s in your classroom in the form of a scented note. He’s in your phone as pixelated replies to your messages. And now, finally, he is in your head. He’s in your head, lurking in the form of knowing smiles and deep baritone, and you don’t think you’ll be lucky enough to shake him off any time soon.

#john price x reader #price x reader #captain price x reader #captain john price x reader #the prowl #f!reader

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mellosdrawings · 2 months

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What's that? I finally took the time to make an actual character sheet for my Yuusona?

Yuu

17 years old, 1st year

They/them, probably on the aro/ace spectrum though they never really thought about it (they do get weird when people show interest in them)

Half Japanese half french

Probably has some flavor of AuDHD

Back home: Before they were kidnapped forcefully moved to Twisted Wonderland, they were the main caretaker of four younger siblings while their parents were busy working. One of their main worry now is whether their siblings are doing alright without them. Their deepest wish is to at least be able to phone call their family to reassure them that they are ok.

Personality: They usually prefer to stand to the side and observe rather than talk and engage with others. They tend to be very prudent with their actions, up until their patience runs out. They're actually pretty perceptive and great at reading others, they just keep everything to themself without realizing.

They make up their absence of magic with their fists and wits. People tend to underestimate them due to their size and quiet demeanor, but they can be vicious and ruthless when push comes to shove. They are not very expressive physically.

At school: Yuu has a terrible focus so they struggle a lot, even when the subject interests them. They are very fond of History of Magic but also hates it because learning a whole world's history in a few months only is a nightmare and a half. They also hate flying with a passion since they are scared of heights. If they could choose a club, Yuu would go for photography and/or filming.

At Ramshackle: Yuu cleans the dorm as a past time, it keeps their body moving while they're thinking about what problem they currently have. They hate cooking though, so when the cafeteria isn't accessible they try to cram themselves in whichever dorm will have them to enjoy someone else's cooking. They aren't very time savvy so they and Grim keep leaving late in the mornings.

Relationships (with Housewardens/OB)

Yuu has a soft spot for Riddle. Unless it's some rule they find completely nonsensical they tend to do whatever Riddle asks. Whenever Yuu comes to class with a clean uniform, it's because Riddle was around to correct their appearance.

Yuu and Leona's relationship is peak siblinghood. Once Yuu figures out that Leona won't act on (half of) his threats, it's over for him. He's one of the first Yuu comes to when they have a problem.

Yuu and Azul regularly try to outsmart each other. At first their interest with Azul is very transactional since he can help with everything Crowley can't be bothered to do (ie give Yuu an actual legal presence in this world) but since they have somewhat similar mindsets they end up getting along very well.

Yuu values Kalim's presence a lot. He's one of the rare pure hearted people at school so Yuu doesn't have to be hyper vigilant around him. It's a breath of fresh air. He is a bit too active for Yuu though, so they tire very fast around him.

"It takes one liar to know another" would be Jamil and Yuu's relationship starter. They had weird vibes from each other from the very start but Jamil did end up underestimating Yuu. Yuu is obsessed with Jamil's hair and regularly takes pictures of him.

Yuu is kinda scared of Vil (in a good way). If they were a tad more outgoing they'd be asking Vil to pose for their camera 24/7. Instead they quietly worship him.

If Yuu could, they'd adopt Idia (and Ortho). Yuu tends to miss their siblings all the time so they get a bit emotional around them both.

Yuu loves to observe Malleus. He's some kind of very strange entity that they can't get enough of and they don't understand half of what he talks about which tickles their curiosity a lot.

Yuu treats Grim like their own cat and plushie. They hold him in their arm as much as possible (until Grim gets tired of it and wanders off somewhere else) because it reassures them. They do fight a lot, a bit like siblings, but they also look out for the other all the time. Yuu sometimes agree to cook for Grim despite hating it.

Relationships (the less fun kind):

Since they're in a world they don't know with students who try to kill them every couple months, Yuu is very defensive in how they approach relationships. Everything starts as transactional and about how "useful" someone can be to keep around. They try to keep even the people they don't really get along with close for this reason.

They are actually very emotional (despite not showing it) so their heart takes precedence over their brain eventually. Despite not being particularly proactive they do go out of their way to help the ones they're close to.

#not mentioned in post but I also ship Yuu with Azul and Jamil #the liar polycule the desperately need therapy polycule the please stop pretending you're someone you're not polycule #mello's drawings #twisted wonderland #twst #twst oc #twst yuu #yuusona #art #my art #leona kingscholar #rook hunt #twst grim #riddle roseheart #azul ashengrotto

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honeekyuu · 3 months

Text

photo booth strip. [kageyama tobio x f!reader]

>>Kageyama makes you smile that first day in the sandbox, and he spends the rest of his life learning what it means to make you happy.

You ask Kageyama to marry you, and he says yes, but you both realize over the years that it's just not that simple.<<

____________________________

tags: smut, fluff, angst, childhood best friends to lovers, childhood marriage agreement, sandbox confessions, emotionally stunted kageyama, hinata is too smart for his own good, younger yachi, lessons in growing up, college age kageyama, penetrative sex, first time

a/n: everything about kageyama in this fic makes me want to put him right in my pocket. enjoy!

[feel free to buy me a cup of coffee!]

------------------

Will you be my prince?”

The first words you ever speak to Kageyama Tobio, in the middle of the sandbox at the neighborhood park.

“I think we should get married.”

The last words you say to him, that same day, as your parents are warning you that it’s time to head home.

You’re wearing a princess costume, holding a plastic fairy wand.

He’s holding a volleyball, the crown you’d placed on his head an hour ago now lopsided.

“ Okay .”

His response, both times. Nothing more, nothing less.

It’s enough to make you smile. Both times.

He doesn’t smile back. He doesn’t know why you’re so happy.

Only when he sees you the next day, waiting in the sandbox for him, does he realize that he doesn’t know your name.

–

You’re a year younger than him. He learns this for the first time when he mentions the elementary school he goes to, almost a week after you meet.

You tell him that you’ll be going there once the summer’s over.

He thinks nothing of it, not until he hears someone calling his name on the first day. He turns, surprised, because he doesn’t really talk to his classmates.

And then he realizes it’s the girl from the park.

You run up to him excitedly and reach for his hand. He lets you take it.

“Can I see you at lunch? Will you come find me?”

He doesn’t think that’s how it works. His teacher always lines them up and they eat lunch in a circle, out in the courtyard.

“Okay.”

He wonders if it hurts when you smile that wide.

By lunch, you’ve forgotten about his promise. You’re meeting so many new people and making friends, and your teacher is a nice lady who lines you all up and leads you down to the courtyard to eat lunch.

You’re in the hallway, waiting for the line to move outside, when you hear the tapping of a finger on a window. You turn, finding Kageyama inside his classroom, standing on his tiptoes and tapping gently on the glass for your attention. His face is blank even when he waves.

That’s the first time you properly fall for Kageyama Tobio. Because he’d remembered, even when you hadn’t.

–

On your first day of middle school, you hover nervously around your classroom door. You check and re-check that you have everything in your bag, if only to have a reason to look busy.

This place is a lot bigger than your last school, and you haven’t been able to find your friends yet. Not everyone from your elementary school class would be here, so you’re desperate to find the few familiar faces that will.

You hear his voice in the stairwell, just beside your classroom. He sounds irritated, that harsh edge easy to identify. You peek around the corner, finding him on the stairs. He’s berating someone, telling them they need to give more energy during practice.

“Kageyama!” You stand at the top of the stairs, clutching your bag and beaming down at him. You’re filled with relief, because at least you’d found him .

He and his teammate turn, and you can’t help but think the boy next to him resembles a turnip.

“Oh. Y/n. You made it.” Tobio’s face is blank as always, but he’d lost the edge in his voice. You giggle, skipping down the steps to meet him, and cling to his arm once you’re within reach. The unfamiliar boy watches you with wide eyes.

“Don’t tell me you have a girlfriend , Kageyama.” He stares down at your linked arms and then meets Kageyama’s eyes, dumbfounded. “There’s no way the King got himself a girl.”

You scrunch your brows together. King ? Tobio had never mentioned a nickname like that.

From the way his arm tenses under your hand, you realize that it’s one he doesn’t like very much.

He takes the volleyball that’s in his other hand and shoves it into Turnip Boy’s chest.

“Focus on what’s important, Kindaichi. Learn to meet my sets before I find someone else.”

You’d heard him talk like that before – his tunnel vision when it comes to the sport had gotten him into trouble a few times in elementary school, too.

The boy leaves with a huff, and Kageyama turns to face you. His arm slips out of your grasp, but he says nothing when you just reach for his hand.

“Do you have practice today?”

He tilts his head.

“I have practice every day.”

You nod, expecting that. “Can we eat lunch together?” You’re not sure if he has other second-year friends that he hangs out with. But he just shrugs, putting his free hand on your elbow and moving you out of the way of a group of girls coming up the stairs.

“Okay.”

You hear your name being called, and you realize one of the girls is a friend from your last school. She giggles when she sees Kageyama and teases you.

“Oh, it’s your husband!”

He says nothing about it, watching you blush and brush your hair behind your ear. He doesn’t understand why you get so shy. You’re the one who had spent all of elementary school telling anyone who would listen that you would marry him one day.

The other girls who don’t know you yet become curious, whispering to each other when your friend says that. Your ears turn pink, and you glance at him nervously. He just blinks at you, because you’re snatching your hand out of his like you weren’t the one who’d grabbed it.

The girls disappear around the corner, and you look at him with a crease in your brow.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d want me to tell anyone here. It’s probably embarrassing.” You’re in middle school now. It’s harder to talk about your crush so openly, and he might not want that kind of attention.

But he just glances at the spot where those girls had been and then meets your eyes.

“But they already know.”

You look him over, your face flushed.

“So… I can… talk about it?”

He shrugs. “Okay.”

He’s not really sure why you squeal and throw your arms around his neck in a hug. He’s just glad he doesn’t lose his balance on the stairs.

By the end of the day, even his own classmates are teasing him about you. He’s too busy reviewing videos from his last practice to care.

–

Both of your families know that you plan to marry him. His sister bullies him anytime he doesn’t greet you with a hug, saying he’s going to be a bad husband. Your mom calls him ‘ Son-in-law ’, and he’d decided early on to call her ‘ Mom ’, because that had seemed like the logical response at the time.

Both of your dads often try to help him practice out in your backyard, even though his sister’s the only other volleyball player and, frankly, your father never really got a grasp on the rules.

Your mother starts teaching you how to cook after you beg her to let you make a bento for Kageyama’s lunch, and your father only knocks you affectionately on the head with his newspaper when he finds you drawing hearts around Tobio’s name in your notebook instead of finishing your math homework.

Your friends don’t complain when you disappear up to the roof every day for lunch, because that’s your only real alone time with him. And by the time you graduate middle school and secure your enrollment at Karasuno, Kageyama’s waking up every day to the 20+ texts you’d send him every night while he’s sleeping.

Half of them are about wedding planning, which you both know is way too far in the future, but you have fun dreaming about the perfect wedding and he only really shuts down your ideas when you say something absurd.

What do you think about having goats bring our rings down the aisle?

Where are we going to get goats?

Oh… You’re right.

And wouldn’t the goats eat the rings?

Oh. That’s true too.

And how are we going to get the rings to balance on the goats?

Okay, I get it!

You’re not oblivious. You know that Kageyama has no interest in wedding planning. He only thinks about volleyball, and he lets you do whatever you want – not because he wants you to have everything your heart desires, but because he simply doesn’t care .

But he’s a man of few words, and he’s also quite literally incapable of lying for someone else’s sake. So if he continues to accept you and your fairytale daydreams, then you’ll continue to see him as your prince.

–

The first time you meet the Karasuno Volleyball Club, it’s with a shy bow and Kageyama’s bento hiding half of your embarrassed face.

It’s your second week of high school, and there is an entire volleyball team of boys staring you dead in the eye in shock.

You skirt around the edge of the court toward Tobio’s bag. He’d mentioned a lunchtime practice, and you’d just wanted to drop this off so he could eat when he had time. He hasn’t noticed you yet, and you don’t mind, because this is one thing you’d rather not distract him from.

You don’t mind being second only to volleyball.

You set the lunchbox down and turn to sneak out of the gym, but there’s a boy with orange hair in your face.

“Who are you? Why are you bringing Kageyama his lunch?” His voice carries, catching the attention of everyone in the room, including Tobio.

“O-Oh, sorry, I’m just–” You fumble for your words, trying to duck around this shockingly agile shorty.

“Y/n.” Kageyama’s calling from the court, and you feel embarrassed that you’d interrupted him. He shows no irritation about it, though, his face blank as ever.

“ Sorry …” You whisper, as if you’re trying to avoid detection. As if you don’t have everyone’s eyes on you.

You manage to dodge the small boy and make a run for it, calling back to him while you race for the door. “Make sure you eat everything and drink lots of water– Okay, bye !”

You fly off the steps of the gym and round the corner, slamming your back against the wall outside so you can catch your breath. Your head is just under the window, which is propped open. You hear his teammates grilling him as he approaches the side of the court for the bento.

“ Is that your girlfriend?! She made you lunch! ” It’s the small boy’s voice.

You hear the rattle of chopsticks as he unpacks the containers and pops them open. His mouth is full of food when he responds, and he’s deadpan as always, not an ounce of emotion in his voice, but–

“That’s Y/n. Be nice to her. We’re going to get married.”

–that’s the first time he says it.

You fall for him all over again.

–

You’re a second year when Kageyama Tobio asks you out.

He’s napping at his desk at the beginning of the day, exhausted from morning practice. His phone keeps buzzing in his bag, the usual stream of texts from you, but he’s honestly too tired to even notice.

Hinata slams down into the seat in front of him, and Kageyama cracks his eyes open in annoyance. Yamaguchi and Tsukishima aren’t far behind, their own desks beside his.

“Could you be a little less annoying?”

Hinata just stares down at him with narrowed eyes.

“Hey, Kageyama.”

Tobio puts his forehead back on his desk with a grunt of acknowledgement.

“How far have you and Y/n gone?”

He hears Tsukishima choke on his drink, and Yamaguchi’s scolding Hinata under his breath.

“You can’t just ask him that-”

“What do you mean?” Kageyama lifts his head, staring straight at his friend. “How far we’ve gone – what does that mean?”

Even Yamaguchi stares at him in disbelief now.

“What are you talking about?” Tsukki’s voice is judgmental as always. “He’s asking what you and your girlfriend have done together. You know…” He waits for Kageyama to get it, but it never clicks.

Tobio just looks at each of them blankly. “Y/n isn’t my girlfriend.”

He wonders if the bugs outside are buzzing louder than normal, or if it’s just really quiet in the room right now.

“But…” Yamaguchi scratches his cheek. “Did you guys decide to not get married after all?”

Kageyama tilts his head. “No…? We still are.”

The freckled boy stares back. “Then wouldn’t you have to date first?”

“Date?”

“Oh, my God-” Tsukishima leans his elbows on his desk and buries his face in his hands. Hinata grabs the front of Kageyama’s uniform roughly.

“Dude. Don’t tell me you never asked her out.” When Tobio just glares at the grip Hinata has on him, his friend gawks at him. “You have to date first, Kageyama! What if she’s been waiting all this time for you to ask her?!”

“ I think there’s something wrong with her .” Tsukishima’s voice is muffled. “ How could she possibly still be set on this guy? ”

Kageyama looks around at his friends as their classmates finally start to file into the room for the day. They all just sigh in frustration, as if this were something he should have known already.

Oh.

He reaches into his bag for his phone. He starts to type out a message, but Yamaguchi snatches the thing out of his hands. He looks appalled.

“You can’t ask her over text , Tobio.”

Tsukishima just laughs and shakes his head. Kageyama ignores him.

“Well, how do I-”

“You ask her in person.”

Oh.

He waits until lunch, when you appear at the door to the third-year classroom. He follows you upstairs to the roof, and then he lets you excitedly explain the lunch you’d made him. He eats in silence, listening to you ramble about your classmates and the fact that your teacher had told you to start thinking about college.

“-think that maybe I should start looking at majors–”

“Hey. Y/n.”

You pause, surprised at his interruption. He’s staring down at his lunch, poking around with his chopsticks. Does he not like the food?

“What’s wro-”

“Do you want to be my girlfriend?”

You don’t think you heard him correctly.

“What…?”

His ears turn red. He knows this moment is important, but he doesn’t know how to make it go smoother.

“Uh-” He pokes at a piece of rice. “The guys said that I-That we need to date before we get married. They said I should have asked you sooner, but I didn’t know that I was supposed to-”

“O-Oh, that’s okay!” You flap your hands at him frantically. “It’s okay, I wasn’t waiting or anything!” To be honest, you hadn’t thought this moment through at all. You’d known that you would date eventually, but you thought it would happen later. Or maybe that you’d skip that part entirely and just plan the wedding after college.

You never thought that he’d…

Is the day suddenly warmer than it was before? Did the sun come out?

You fan yourself, pressing your cold drink to the side of your face. Dating Kageyama Tobio is… not something you considered, even after all this time.

“Hey.”

You meet his eyes, flushing when you see how nervous he is.

If even he’s nervous, then…

“You never answered me.”

You swallow.

“O-Okay.” He watches you carefully, and you can feel it even when you look away in embarrassment. “Sure… Let’s date.”

–

“What’s the difference between dating and what we were doing before?” Kageyama’s twirling his pencil around his fingers, trying and failing to focus on his homework. It’s just too boring.

You’re across from him, almost done with your own work. You’re sitting at the table in your room, just a couple days after he asks you out. In that time, nothing’s really changed.

You flush, trying to think of what to say.

“Uh… I’m not sure. I think we just go on dates…? Hold hands and… stuff…?” You don’t want to give him more information than that.

He yawns, reaching for his phone. “Okay. Let’s go on a date, then.”

You lean forward to see what he’s doing, and you watch him type ‘ places to date’ into his search engine. You giggle to yourself and then gasp, because the local movie theater had popped up in the results.

“Ooh, a movie!”

He says nothing, clicking on the website and scrolling through the showings silently. You point to one that’s just come out.

“The trailer for that looks interesting. You might like it.”

He buys tickets without even thinking about it.

You wonder if he even wants to see it. But he doesn’t say otherwise, and he’s already paid, so you’re not sure what would change if you asked.

When he picks you up the next morning, leaning his body lazily over the fence of your house and tapping obnoxiously at the small bell that hangs from the metal bar like he always does, you’re stunned to find that he’s dressed well.

He looks effortlessly pretty, his sweater well-suited to the pair of jeans he has on – you didn’t even know he owned clothes outside of his sweats and his uniform.

You stop short just outside your door, taken aback by how good he looks. You watch his eyes trail down the length of your body, analyzing your dress, your hair, and your jewelry. You’d spent far too long deciding on it all, and your mom is currently standing behind you with a camera, squealing as she takes pictures of the two of you.

But Kageyama says nothing, about any of it. He just keeps his eyes on you as you approach the fence.

“Hi… You look nice.” You mumble the words, trying to keep your blush in check.

“Thanks…” He trails off, looking like he wants to say something else. But he doesn’t, only straightening and waiting for you to join him on the sidewalk. And then he waves blankly at your mom, his hand finding yours as you start to walk away. He gives you a simple response when you look up at him in surprise.

“What? You said we were supposed to hold hands.”

You stare down at your shoes the entire walk to the theater, your face painfully warm.

He buys you a large popcorn and drink to share, and you sit in the crowded theater with the bucket in your lap, grateful that it’s dark. You smoothe out your dress and tuck your hair behind your ear, trying not to ruin your outfit.

He takes your hand again once the movie starts, his voice low when he mumbles something to you.

“You look nice, too.”

You don’t really know what the movie ends up being about. Your heart is beating in your ears the whole time.

–

“Hey, Kageyama. How far have you and Y/n gone?”

Kageyama glares up at Hinata through his lashes. “Why do you always ask me that?”

“Because you’re a case study in idiocy.” Tsukishima flips another page of his magazine, his back against the frame of Yamaguchi’s bed. He’s not really reading it. He just likes to roll it up and smack Hinata over the head with it when he gets distracted from his studies.

Yamaguchi pushes gently at Tsukki’s arm without looking, just writing down another answer on his worksheet as he studies at the table with Hinata and Kageyama. “Leave him be. He’s doing his best.”

Kageyama wonders if the flush to Tsukishima’s cheeks is because he’d been scolded or because it was Yamaguchi.

He texts Hinata about it discreetly.

Does Tsukishima like Yamaguchi?

And then he stills when he watches the way his best friend’s eyes flit to the screen when it lights up and then up at him like he’s stupid. Hinata never takes his deadpan stare off of him, not even as he’s reaching for the phone and typing out a response.

They’ve been dating since first year.

Oh.

Kageyama purses his lips and puts his phone down. That’s enough meddling for one day.

It buzzes again a second later.

Answer my question, Dipshit.

Kageyama scowls.

I don’t know what you want me to tell you.

You’ve been dating for six months. What’s happened?

He furrows a brow.

We go on a date every week.

Hinata looks impressed.

You hold hands?

Yeah.

Kiss?

Kageyama blinks.

Kiss what?

Hinata no longer looks impressed. He meets Kageyama’s eyes again, that deadpan starting to get on Tobio’s nerves. And then he reaches across the table to show his phone to Tsukishima without a word. Kageyama watches Tsukki’s eyes dart down the length of the conversation.

And then he’s slapping his magazine shut and rolling it up. Kageyama doesn’t have time to avoid the harsh smack to the top of his head.

He barely gets his arms up and over his head in time to block another well-aimed swing.

“What the fuck!”

“You haven’t kissed her yet ?” Tsukishima smacks him again, and then once more, because he’s properly tired of Kageyama Tobio. And then he leans back against Yamaguchi, sighing through his nose. “I feel so bad for her, I’m considering dating her myself.”

“Hey!” It’s Yamaguchi, his pout obnoxious.

Kageyama really wonders how he hadn’t noticed their relationship before this.

Tsukishima pinches the bridge of his nose. “Someone please teach Kageyama how to be a boyfriend with feelings. I don’t have the time.”

Hinata snorts. “I don’t think we’d ask you for the time, anyway.” He doesn’t even bother avoiding the magazine smack to the side of his face. He deserved it.

Yamaguchi reaches into his bag for his laptop, nudging his boyfriend with a knee. “Go make snacks. I’ll find movies.”

Tsukki says nothing, just ruffling Yamaguchi’s hair as he stands and steps over him.

Surely, they didn’t always do things like that. Kageyama would have noticed… right?

He shakes his head, watching Yamaguchi set up his laptop at a distance where they can all see the screen. He doesn’t know what’s happening, but at least he doesn’t have to do his homework.

His friends keep him trapped in Yamaguchi’s room for the next six hours, forcing him to watch rom-coms and yelling ‘ Do that! ’ every time they see a romantic gesture, because they know Kageyama won’t think twice about it otherwise.

–

“Hey. Y/n.” He’s standing at the door to your classroom, just after 6pm on a Thursday. The sun is starting to set, but you’re both still here.

The volleyball season had ended a few weeks ago, his last time playing for Karasuno there and gone before he’d realized it. But he and Hinata had been scouted by the same school in Tokyo, so they use the now-empty gym to practice almost every day.

You’d waited for him after your student council meeting, filling out homework with a speed that he’d always envied just a little bit. You’re brighter than you realize, especially with numbers.

He hadn’t noticed until last year, when you’d gone for fun with them to Tokyo for the annual summer training camp and met Kuroo. You’d gotten on extremely well with him, and Kageyama had watched you two talk about chemistry and math as if they were exciting TV shows he’d never heard of.

Kuroo had gotten him alone soon after, mentioning to him that Tokyo had one of the best STEM programs in the country. He hadn’t realized what the Nekoma captain had meant at the time – not until he’d first been contacted by the university and had started, unknowingly, thinking that it would be nice to keep going to school with you after graduation.

“Oh, Kags!” You finish writing something with a smile and then start packing up. “I have a packet due next week, so I wanted to finish it before you were done practicing.”

He wouldn’t have started that packet until the night before.

He watches you skip up to him, in a rush even though you’re the only two people here. You walk down the hall together, and you peer up at him while you ask him about his day.

“Did you eat well? Sorry that I couldn’t see you for lunch – my class president wanted to talk about…” You talk excitedly, and he stops listening just as you’re approaching the top of the stairs.

There’s no one around right now, just noise drifting through the open window on the first landing of the stairs — the soccer team, running laps outside. It’s almost March. The frost is finally melting off of the grass. He’ll be graduating soon.

His mind drifts to what Hinata told him as they were parting ways, not even fifteen minutes ago.

‘Don’t make her wait much longer.’

Have you been waiting? Have you been expecting him to make a move on you? It had been a week since the forced movie night, but you haven’t given him any of the so-called signs he’d been made to notice in those scenes.

No lingering close to him, no biting your lip and looking up at him wistfully.

He’s starting to think the movies were being dramatic.

Do you even want him to kiss you?

“-yama… Kags?”

He stops at the landing, just in front of the window. He turns, realizing you’d stopped halfway down the stairs, just examining him with lifted eyebrows. You look mildly concerned, a soft smile tugging at your lips when he mumbles ‘ Huh? ’, and you move to join him.

“Are you okay?” Your eyes flit around his face. “Are you worried about training?”

No. He’s not.

For once, he’s not.

“Yeah. I guess.”

Does he want to kiss you?

He’s not sure. He enjoys your weekly dates – movie and cafe dates, and one amusement park date where your photo booth shots had been so funny that he’d snorted milk out through his nose. Those photos sit in his wallet now, because he couldn’t think of anywhere else to keep them and because the fact that he’d put them there had made you oddly happy.

And he’s realized recently that he likes the feeling of your fingers interlaced with his, hands joined and shoved into the pocket of his coat to stay warm. He likes having you close like that. And when he’d ask you to remove his finger wraps for him after practice, he likes how delicate you’d be about it, how soft your fingers were against his calloused ones.

Not to mention the strand of some unplaced emotion that would sit in his chest when his teammates would complain about him having a girlfriend. They’d whine anytime you would help him – ‘ We don’t have pretty girls who do that for us, Kageyama. Stop showing off. ’ – and he’d always feel a little weird. A little too proud that you wouldn’t do that for anyone else. A little too happy that he’s special.

Still, he has no idea about kissing. He hadn’t thought about it before last week. It had never crossed his mind. But now… he feels like he should do it. Hinata told him to. Yamaguchi and Tsukishima told him to. They were sure that you’d been waiting for him to do it.

You must have been waiting, then. They would know better than he does.

“-m sure that your drills have been going okay with Hinata, right? And you have some time still, if you wanted to fix something-” You cut short, realizing he’s stepping close to you. His face is blank, but he still looks like he’s thinking hard about something.

He steps in again, and you step back to give him some space. He follows, and soon you’re backed up against the wall on the stairs. Cold air drifts in through the window, along with the sounds of a soccer practice.

You swallow, meeting Kageyama’s eyes nervously.

“What’s… What are you…”

He looks you over. Your nose is red from the chill, and you’re looking up at him in confusion, like you have no idea what he’s doing. He realizes that, no, you hadn’t been waiting.

You hadn’t been expecting anything from him.

For some reason, that bothers him.

He sets his hands on your elbows, stepping close and dipping his head. You don’t have time to think, and Kageyama’s leaning in before you can bring yourself to wonder what he’s doing.

There, on that set of stairs between the first and second floor, just after 6pm on a Thursday. There are people outside, with no idea what’s happening not that far away. The sun is about to set, and the bugs are starting to come out of their winter hiding, a quiet buzz filling the air. It’s almost March. He’ll be graduating soon.

That’s the first time Kageyama Tobio kisses you.

He pulls away after a moment, tilting his head away to give you space but staying close enough that his hair gets in your eyes a little bit. You don’t remember the last time you took a breath, but it doesn’t matter, because you’ve never seen Kageyama blush before. Not like that.

You swallow hard, your skin tingling where he has his hands on your elbows. Another cold breeze drifts in, but you barely feel it. Your face is warm enough, and you think the heat radiating around you might not just be you.

Eventually, he takes a small step back, his head still ducked when he releases you. His ears are ringing, and he doesn’t like the fact that he can’t feel his fingers. And when he looks up at you through his bangs, seeing the way you’re still leaning against the wall for support as you hug your arms around yourself, he finds himself wanting to do it again.

He wants to be close to you like that again.

It’s not the same as holding your hand. It’s worse. It’s a feeling that sits in his stomach and makes his heart pound. The same feeling of adrenaline and excitement he gets when he wins a game.

He doesn’t know what to do with this feeling.

So he doesn’t move. He just stares. You stare back. Eventually, you lift off of the wall and smile shyly, crouching to grab your bag. He hadn’t even realized you’d dropped it.

You grip the strap so hard your knuckles turn white. He clears his throat.

“I’ll walk you home.” It’s soft, but it echoes loudly in this empty stairwell.

You just nod, following him down the stairs and out the front door.

It takes him ten minutes to gather the courage to hold your hand. You don’t say a word the entire way back.

–

Kageyama graduates, and you become a third year preparing for college applications. Things between you somehow return to normal with little issue, although you’d been expecting some level of awkwardness.

He doesn’t kiss you again or even give you any sign that he wants to. You don’t know what to make of that, but you choose not to push it. You think that he would probably let you kiss him if you wanted to, because he lets you do anything you want.

But the thought of kissing him when you’re not sure if he wants it or even cares about it – that makes you feel weird.

So you just don’t.

He’d moved to Tokyo in the summer to start training, and you find that, although you miss him immensely, you’re doing just fine here in Miyagi.

You talk every day, and you take the train to see him once a month, staying the weekend in his tiny dorm room and then rushing home to prepare for class on Monday.

You still text him random thoughts about wedding planning, but they’re far fewer than before. Now, you mostly just check that he’s eating and sleeping and that he’s not failing his classes.

You let yourself be woken up when he calls at 4:30 every day because he has to be out for his morning run by 5 and he knows he won’t be able to stay awake unless he’s talking to you while he gets ready. And then you sit at your desk, studying for your entrance exams and prepping your application materials while the sun rises outside your window.

You make an extra trip to the city whenever he has a game, rushing out of school and racing for the train station like an olympic runner, because every game means the world to him and you would never dream of missing one. And every time he wins, he holds you extra tight at night, excitedly recapping the moments of the game into the crook of your neck as if you hadn’t witnessed every second with your own eyes.

It never occurs to you to tell him about your day anymore. He doesn’t ask, and you don’t think about that enough to be upset by it. His world revolves around volleyball, just like it always had. And your world – your grades, your achievements, your future – had always just been expectations you’d set for yourself. Top of the class, student council president, stellar record. They’re all normal to you. You’d worked hard for them, but you’d never found them to be novel or exciting enough to tell Kageyama.

You just… existed.

And you never realized that maybe your priorities weren’t in the right place. That maybe making Kageyama Tobio your whole personality wasn’t the way it should be. You had slowly stopped doing that, slowly eased yourself off of him, slowly started hanging out with your friends more than you used to.

Nothing could change the way you feel about him – he’s your prince. He’d always been your prince, from the day you’d met. But you’re becoming an adult with a life and a future, and you’d never thought that that was important enough to share with him. Your whole world is still him .

Until it isn’t.

“Have you told Kageyama about your midterm grades yet?” Yachi spoons food into her mouth, eyes sparkling cutely when she asks. “I bet he was so happy for you.”

You tilt your head at her. “Oh, I didn’t think to tell him.” And you don’t think you’ve ever seen him get happy about anything other than volleyball.

Your friend’s expression dampens. “You didn’t tell him? Why?”

“It never came up.”

She looks lost. “But you worked really hard for it… And you got top of the class… You didn’t mention it at all?”

You furrow a brow, pushing food around your bento.

“I guess I just didn’t think about it.”

She hums and then claps as a thought comes to her.

“What about the school festival?”

You’re in committee meetings for that almost every day. It’s coming in the spring.

She frowns when you just shake your head blankly.

“Y/n, you haven’t told him anything? You even got sick the other day from the stress…”

“I didn’t want to bother him with it.”

She looks entirely unsatisfied. There’s silence, one where you’re eating slowly and trying to figure out what this feeling in the pit of your stomach is. And then she’s clearing her throat softly.

“Does he… ask about you? At all?”

No. He doesn’t.

You swallow. “He’s a busy guy.”

Now Yachi just looks mad. “And you’re a busy girl! He’s your boyfriend! He should be asking!”

You laugh sheepishly. “He’s never really been that way. It doesn’t bother me.” Right?

“That’s not the point!” She frowns deeply. “What kind of guy doesn’t want to hear about his girlfriend’s day?”

The kind of guy that only asks you out because his friends told him to.

The thought hits you like a truck, and suddenly your lunch tastes like cardboard. You swallow what’s left in your mouth, wincing as it goes down, and cover your container. You don’t feel hungry anymore.

“It’s fine, really.” You smile at her, reassuring her. “I’ll tell him about my day today, okay? I just never thought to do it, that’s all.”

She scowls, like that should never have been an option, but she lets it go.

You call Kageyama as you walk home later, the sun low in the sky. There had been 3 back to back meetings after school, and you’re rolling your shoulders in exhaustion. You’re already dreading the mountain of homework you have to do when you get home.

He picks up after a few rings.

“ Hey .”

You can hear the squeak of tennis shoes in the background. He’s at practice.

“Oh. Sorry, I thought you ended at 5.”

“ It’s fine. We stayed longer to prep for the game next week. I’m taking a break .” He sighs. “ I’m still not super satisfied with my jump serves. I get them right 90% of the time, but… ”

He rambles on like that, and you try to push down that lingering feeling from lunch. This is how every day goes. You’re never anything but happy to talk to him. You like hearing him ramble – it calms you down, lets you have a moment of serenity in the chaos of your day.

Now, you’re just wondering why he didn’t ask how you are.

Eventually, you clear your throat, seeing the shadow of your house in the distance.

“Hey, I should probably go – I’m home, and I don’t feel super great today, so…”

“ Oh, okay. Bye. ” He hangs up, and you stand in front of your house, staring down at your phone.

He hadn’t asked why you weren’t feeling good.

You shake your head, heading inside. After your shower, you settle down at your desk with a sigh, switching on the overhead lamp. It’s dark now, and you’re just starting on your work. It’s all due next week, so you decide to take it a little easy because you’re supposed to see Kageyama next weekend and you don’t want to get sick again.

You try one more time with him, sending a quick text.

I’m excited to see you next week <3

You put your phone down, oddly anxious, and open your math textbook. Your phone buzzes beside you, and you reach for it with a rush of nerves.

It’s just a thumbs up.

You stare down at it.

And then you close your textbook and switch the lamp off. You get into bed and cry into your pillow.

He doesn’t ask why you sound a little down when he calls the next morning at 4:30.

–

You decide to go see him early. You’re supposed to go next weekend, but you’d spent the last two days with a pit of anxiety in your stomach, and you think that maybe if you just see him, you’ll feel better. Reassured.

You get off the train, nothing but your backpack with you. You’d come right after school, but you hadn’t packed an overnight bag because you’d had this idea literally an hour before class had ended.

You make your way to the gym with ease, used to the lay of the campus by now. Kageyama has practice until 5, so you’re right on time to see him.

You stop short when you round the corner, your heart dropping.

He’s out front with Hinata and his teammates, all chatting excitedly about something from practice.

He’s laughing brightly at something his senior is saying, his eyes screwed up and his arms clutching his sides. Hinata puts him in a headlock with a grin, and he’s fighting back, the two roughhousing on the steps.

You’ve never seen him smile like that before.

Your bottom lip quivers against your will, your eyes filling with unshed tears. You turn to walk away.

This was a bad idea. You’ll just sit at a cafe and wait for the next train home.

“Y/n?”

It’s Hinata, calling out to you from afar.

You freeze, unable to turn back to them. You can hear the sounds of Kageyama’s teammates as they tease him.

“ Ooh, Kageyama-”

“ -your girlfriend’s here- ”

You blink, wiping furiously at the tears that finally slide down your cheeks. And then you swallow and turn back to them, seeing that Kageyama and Hinata are jogging to meet you where you are.

“Hi…”

“What are you doing here?” Tobio tilts his head at you, confused. “I thought you were coming next week. And-” He looks you up and down, a brow furrowed. “-where’s your bag?”

You’re not sure what to say to any of it.

I wanted to see you .

That would have been fine before. Now you just feel clingy.

I had a bad day. I missed you .

He won’t care. He won’t ask. He’ll just accept that.

Hinata leans toward you a bit, a frown tugging at his lips.

“Are you okay? You look sad.”

Tobio looks at his friend, blinking in surprise, and then down at you.

“What happened? Why are you sad?”

You try not to let it show when your heart cracks a little.

He’d only noticed because Hinata had.

“Uh-I’m fine.” You watch him closely, watch him accept your answer at face value with a nod. Watch Hinata lean away, eyes narrowed in disbelief. You wonder why your friends can see right through you but your own boyfriend can’t.

“Could we maybe get dinner…?”

Kageyama looks back at his teammates, frowning. You wonder where that bright smile had gone and why it had left when he’d seen you.

“The team was supposed to get dinner today…”

Your heart doesn’t even drop anymore. You’d expected it, the rejection.

“Oh. Yeah, that’s fine. I’ll just meet with you later.” You smile, starting to pull your phone out so you can look up some nearby restaurants. You’d shown up unannounced, anyway. Kageyama hadn’t expected to fit you into his schedule today.

Hinata nudges him hard with his elbow.

“Dude, your girlfriend came all this way to get dinner with you. You can just come along next time.”

Tobio turns to him, and then to you. He blinks.

“Oh. Okay.”

That word feels like a knife through the heart.

–

You sit silently across from him at the ramen shop, listening to him talk about the upcoming game.

“-maybe if I can just get there a little faster, I could probably-”

“Tobio…”

Kageyama freezes, noodles halfway to his mouth. You almost never say his name. It’s always Kags, or his full last name.

He looks down at you, eyes skimming over you quickly. You won’t meet his eyes, and your hand is trembling just a little. You’ve barely touched your food, and you’ve looked upset for a while now. He hasn’t wanted to push, because you always tell him when something’s up, but…

You put your chopsticks down and take a deep breath. Smile up at him. It doesn’t reach your eyes.

…he’s worried.

“I got top of the class on all my midterms.”

He blinks.

“Oh. Okay. Nice.”

Your brow furrows for just a moment before you fix your expression.

Something’s not right.

“And I’m organizing the school festival this year…” You bite your lip and look out the window. “It would mean a lot if you could come…”

He puts his chopsticks down and reaches for his phone right away.

“Okay. When?” He opens his calendar and looks up at you expectantly.

You just stare, your eyes full of an emotion he’s never seen before. And then you whisper to him.

“Why did you ask me to be your girlfriend?”

Tobio stares. Locks his phone and puts it down without breaking eye contact. Stares some more.

He’s confused.

“I thought that’s what I was supposed to do…”

You don’t think you can do this.

There are tears filling your eyes. Your voice cracks when you respond.

“Then I think we should break up.”

He just stares.

What? Where is this coming from? What are you talking about? You’re supposed to date and then get married. Breaking up isn’t in the plan.

At all.

“Oh.”

You flinch and look away. ‘ Oh ’. That’s it.

“Why?” He looks serious when he asks, like he might actually be worried about this. You’re not really sure you’ve ever seen him worry about you.

“Because I don’t want to marry someone who doesn’t want to marry me.” You smile bitterly up at him. “Because I never asked you what you wanted. I just decided what we would do.”

You’re having trouble breathing. You feel selfish and guilty. You’d decided what his life would look like, and he’d gone along with it because he’d had no complaints about the choice. He’d done everything right, exactly how you wanted him to. Exactly how he was supposed to.

“Because I don’t want you to wake up one day and realize that you wanted something different out of your life. Or for you to meet someone else and realize that you should have married for love, not obligation.”

He shakes his head, face blank. “That wouldn’t happen.”

You smile sadly. “You haven’t asked me about myself for as long as I can remember.”

He frowns. “I figured you would just tell me the things that were important.”

“And I figured you wouldn’t care because you never asked.”

Kageyama’s heart feels a bit strange. He doesn’t like the look on your face. It upsets him to see you unhappy.

“Oh.”

“You don’t really know what I’ve been up to. And you don’t know how I’ve changed since you left. You don’t ask. And that’s okay.” You hold eye contact, willing yourself not to cry. “But can you really say that you’re marrying me because you love me?”

He just stares. You stare back. And then you make up your mind.

“Me loving you enough for the both of us still isn’t enough to build a life together.”

He doesn’t react. All he says is–

“Okay.”

–

It’s been four days.

In those four days, Kageyama Tobio has learned several things about himself.

First, that he’s entirely incapable of getting out of bed on his own. He oversleeps three of the four days and misses his morning runs, barely rolling out of bed in time to get ready for class. The fourth day, he only wakes up on time because he’d put his phone on the bathroom sink the night before so that he’s forced to get up when his alarm goes off.

Second, that the days go by in a blur. He doesn’t remember eating breakfast, and he’s certain he doesn’t go to the cafeteria for lunch like he usually does. He subsists on the protein bars he keeps in his bag, and he only remembers dinner because, by the time practice is over, he’s so hungry that he’s stealing food from Hinata’s bag, too.

The third thing is that he’s messes up at practice in things that he had perfected years ago. He screws up during drills, he somehow is off-tempo during warm-ups, and – most importantly – he’s snapping at his teammates. The stress gets to him on day three, to the point that he’s running drills by himself and pushing his own limits every time he forgets even the smallest thing. When that doesn’t work, he’s yelling at Hinata and then blaming a senior for moving too slow during a set.

He hadn’t done that since high school.

“Dude-” Hinata approaches him after practice on day four. It’s Monday, and they have a game on Friday. Tensions are already high, and he knows well enough that he’s making things worse. “-what is with you lately?”

“ What ?” Kageyama shoots him a glare, one that has Hinata’s eyebrows flying up, because his best friend hasn’t looked at him like that since their first year at Karasuno.

He doubles down, keeping up easily with Kageyama’s long legs when the setter storms out of the gym. “What’s your problem? No one asked the King to make a special guest appearance.”

Kageyama turns so fast to face him that he skids to a stop, bumping into him. And then his shirt is being balled up in Tobio’s fist, and he’s being dragged onto his tiptoes and into Kageyama’s face.

“What the fuck did you just call me?”

Hinata breathes out a sigh, recognizing the frustration in Kageyama’s eyes.

“Why are you snapping at everyone? You’ve been in a mood since Friday.”

“No, I haven’t.”

“Did you get dumped or something?” Shouyou knows he’s right when Kageyama’s glare and furrowed brow turn into a blank slate. He’s realizing something. “Oh, my God, you did. You got dumped.”

Kageyama drops him back down, releasing him. He blinks.

“I mean… Yeah, I did. But so what?”

Hinata looks at him like he’s crazy.

“What do you mean, so what ? You’re upset!”

Kageyama only swallows. He knows he’s upset. He was upset all of Friday, after you left him sitting there in that ramen shop, claiming you needed to catch the last train home.

But has he been upset enough to disrupt his days this much?

“I…”

“You’ve been oversleeping and barely making it to class.”

That’s true.

“You’ve been skipping meals, which is probably why you’ve been crabby and fucking up during practice. You haven’t been eating enough.”

That’s also true. That makes sense.

“And you’ve been distracted.”

Kageyama blinks down at him.

Hinata sighs. “You’ve been checking your phone constantly, dude. You never look up from it anymore.” He points up at the man with renewed frustration. “You almost got hit by that biker when we were crossing the street on Saturday!”

That… had happened. He remembers, barely. That he’d only looked up because Hinata had yanked on the back of his hoodie, that the student on that bike had yelled at him as he’d passed them by.

That he’d been checking his phone, wondering why it had been so silent all day.

“What are you waiting for, Kageyama?”

For her to text me .

“She usually texts me… about eating and… and wedding stuff.” There’s dread in his stomach, and his nerves are twisting painfully in his chest.

Hinata sighs dejectedly, running a hand through his hair.

“What wedding, Kageyama? She broke up with you.”

‘ What wedding, Kageyama?’

Oh.

If you broke up with him, then… Then there’s no dating, and that means no wedding.

Right.

Kageyama scowls at his short friend.

No.

No, he doesn’t like this.

–

He’s waiting for you at the Karasuno gates on Tuesday afternoon. You spot him as you’re walking out of the building with Yachi. You’d spent the weekend crying in your bed, and you’d decided on Monday – after you’d opened your wallet and promptly started sobbing, because you’d had the other photo booth strip from the amusement park in there – that you had to get yourself together.

Yachi links her arm through yours and pulls you back when you walk out of school, because she’d noticed him first. You look up, freezing when you see him lingering there. He’s out of place without a uniform, and he’s pacing back and forth in the corner, running his fingers through his hair.

What is he doing here?

You meet Yachi’s eyes anxiously, and the two of you walk to meet him. He looks up when you get close, eyes widening when he sees you. He takes a breath. You think he looks nervous.

“Can you un-dump me, please?”

Your lips part in surprise. Yachi slips her arm out of yours and walks away without a word, realizing that this is probably not something she should be present for.

You stare up at him.

“What?”

He scratches his neck. “This really sucks, Y/n. Can we date again? Please?”

“I-Kageyama-” You look around, wondering if he’s really doing this here. “Can we at least go somewhere else?”

He just blinks. “Okay.”

You try not to sigh. You hadn’t missed that word.

You lead him past the school grounds, crossing the street and toward the park that’s nearby. There’s no one around, and you take a seat at one of the benches. He sits next to you, silent. And then he turns to you.

“So…”

“I don’t think we should get back together.” You stare down at your hands when you say it.

He shifts to face you, huffing under his breath. “Why not?”

“What’s changed, Kageyama? In the last four days, what’s changed that would make things better this time?” You run a hand through your hair. “Because, from where I’m sitting, everything’s the same.”

“Then sit closer.” He pats the empty space between you for emphasis.

You sigh, growing frustrated.

“You don’t get it-”

“No, I don’t get it.” He cuts you off, angry. You’ve never seen him get upset with you before. “I don’t get it , Y/n. I thought we were fine. I thought I did everything I was supposed to-”

“Yeah, you did!” You stand, facing him. He stands, too, his chest heaving as he breathes harshly. “You did everything you were supposed to, Tobio. Because Hinata told you to. Because Tsukki and Yamaguchi told you to. You did everything they told you to do.”

“So what ? They were helping me figure out how to be a good boyfriend-”

“Did you even want to be my boyfriend?” You throw your hands up, annoyed. “Did you want to do those things ?”

He looks lost. Lost and frustrated that he’s lost. “Does it matter ? I was fine doing them, and they were things you wanted, and I didn’t mind-”

You fist the front of his hoodie, shaking him. Your eyes are filling with tears. “ It matters, Kageyama!” You drop your forehead to his chest, your breath shaky. “It matters . Those things mean nothing if you don’t want to do them yourself.”

You lift away from him, stepping back and covering your face with your hands. “I thought that if you didn’t have any complaints about the things I wanted, then that meant that everything was fine-”

“Everything was fine.” He’s looking at you like he’s begging you to explain this to him. “ I asked you out. I kissed you first. I did those things-”

“ Because they told you to! ” You bury your hands in your hair. It feels like you’re going insane, saying the same things over and over again. “They didn’t ask if you wanted to . They told you to.” You breathe deeply. “ I didn’t ask if you wanted to.” You drop your hands, sighing. “I just told you to.”

“And then you didn’t ask when you left me!” He digs the heels of his hands into his eyes, frustrated. “You just decided that what we had planned on doing was no longer the plan. You didn’t ask.”

You stare at him, processing. Realizing.

You thought you’d done wrong by pulling him in and keeping him close. So you let him go.

But that had been wrong, too.

“I’m sorry.” You can’t tell if your apology reaches him. He’s just glaring down at his shoes. “I’m sorry, Tobio. I felt guilty that I had forced you into this relationship and this future with me, and then I realized that I had made you my whole life without ever considering you.”

He meets your eyes. He’s listening.

“And then I saw that you weren’t interested in me or what’s happening in my life. You weren’t asking about my day or asking why I was tired or seeing when I was in pain. And I thought that meant that you were just going along with my plans for our future without ever thinking about if that’s what you even wanted for yourself. And that hurt, so much.”

Kageyama knows what you’re telling him. He’d been thinking about what you’d said on Friday, your words on repeat in the back of his head through the entire weekend.

‘Me loving you enough for the both of us still isn’t enough to build a life together.’

But he had never felt that you had forced him into this. He’d never felt that he might want something else. Even when he was just going along with your ideas because he couldn’t care less, there were no ill feelings. He’d been making you happy your whole lives, without even trying. All he’d ever had to do was be there, and you were happy.

You were never upset around him, never upset because of him.

So he didn’t know how much he hated it until it had happened.

He had never considered that you might ever need more than that from him. That you might need him to make this an equal-efforts relationship.

“Ask me.”

You just blink up at him, confused. He swallows.

“Ask me what I want.”

There’s a moment of silence, and then you’re inhaling nervously.

“What do you want, Kageyama?”

“I want-” He takes a step toward you, and then another. “-you to be where you’ve always been.” He grabs your shoulders, forcing you to come close to him, right in front on him. “Right here, Y/n. I want you right here .”

You tilt your head back to really look at him, your eyes wide. He’s meeting your gaze evenly. “I need you next to me , Y/n. I cannot function if you’re not.”

You’re confused. And extremely nervous.

“What?”

He tightens his hold on you. “I have not been doing anything right the last few days. I don’t wake up on time. I don’t eat . I am fucking everything up at practice.”

“Kageyama-”

“I keep checking my phone, waiting for you-I almost got run over on Saturday because I wasn’t paying attention-”

“What?! Kageya-”

“I miss you , Y/n.” Do you understand what he’s saying? Is he being clear enough? “I’m useless without you.”

Butterflies swirl in your stomach, but you still furrow a brow, protesting weakly.

“I’m not your mother, Tobio… I can’t keep doing everything for you-”

“Oh, my-” He releases you, stepping away and running a hand over his face. “Okay, fine! Yes-” He looks at you, exasperated. “I will work on that. I will work on being-I don’t know-” He’s fumbling for his words, trying to figure out what he should say. What’s right.

“-I will work on myself, okay? But-” He sighs. “-don’t break up with me. Please. Can’t I work on those things with you still here with me?”

You just stare. You’ve never seen this. You didn’t know this side of him existed. This person who is flustered and frustrated and lost. This person who is trying to communicate with you but is struggling.

He looks around, thinking hard. He rubs a finger over his brow, scowling. And then he tries again.

“Okay. When I asked you out, I was really nervous. And you had never made me nervous before. And when we went on our first date, I thought that you looked really pretty when I picked you up, but I didn’t know how to say it.”

You blink. What is he doing?

He starts pacing.

“And when I held your hand on the walk to the movie, I kept wondering if my hand was sweaty and if you could feel it. And I really liked that cafe you wanted to go to the week after, because they had that banana milk latte thing and I thought that was good. And you looked really happy with the cake I bought you, and I thought it was weird that I noticed that part specifically, because you always look happy.”

He scratches his forehead. Is he doing this right? If he’s just completely honest about everything, that would be progress, right?

“And when we went to the amusement park, you wanted me to buy you the cat ear headband, but I thought you looked really cute in the bunny ears. That’s why I bought you both.”

You didn’t know that. He never told you.

“And I look at the pictures from the photo booth thing all the time, but definitely after a bad day at practice. Because you look funny, but also because after I snorted out that milk, you laughed so hard that you cried, and I can never forget that. It makes me smile to think about it.”

He stops pacing. Turns to face you.

“And when I kissed you that day. On the stairs.”

You flush, your ears already warm and your heart already thrumming nervously in your chest from everything he’s been saying. He sighs, shaking his head.

“I wanted to kiss you again. I should have kissed you again. Because the guys, they did tell me to kiss you. That’s why I did it.” He steps toward you, swallowing hard. “But I wanted to kiss you again. I wanted to. I didn’t, because I was nervous and I couldn’t figure out why I couldn’t feel my fingers. And every time after that, when I wanted to kiss you, I would start to feel that way again. And I didn’t know what to do with that, so I just wouldn’t kiss you.”

He feels it now. His fingers are numb, and his heart is beating in his ears. And his stomach kind of hurts, and he’s terrified that this still isn’t enough. He’s terrified that your silence means that he’s not doing this right.

“I would have liked that.” You purse your lips when he blinks at you in surprise. “If you had kissed me again. I would have liked that.”

He sighs in relief and looks away, putting a hand on his stomach and clutching at his hoodie, scrunching the material. He nods, his eyes shut when he responds.

“Yeah. I would have liked it, too.”

And then he looks at you, eyes examining your expression.

“Y/n, I… I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know how to do this. I’m bad at everything that’s not volleyball-” He cuts off to roll his eyes. “Well, now I’m bad at volleyball, too. But that’s not-”

He sighs.

“I don’t know how to make you happy without you telling me, and I don’t know how to be a good boyfriend because I don’t know what that means . I don’t know if what I feel is love because I don’t know what that feels like, and I’m convinced that all the rom-coms the guys made me watch were full of shit.”

You don’t even want to know what that means.

“But I know now that I should try harder. That I should ask you about your day, and that I should talk less about me and more about you, and that this -” He points between the two of you. “-shouldn’t just be you doing everything.”

He steps toward you. “So I’m going to do those things. Not because you told me to and I’m just following along, but because you told me what makes you happy, and I want to make you happy.”

You can only stare, your breath shallow and shaky. He closes the distance, and then, after a beat, reaches hesitantly for your hand. You let him take it. He meets your eyes nervously.

“Can you say something, please?”

You look at him for a moment longer, and then you smile.

“Okay.”

He rolls his eyes.

You lace your fingers through his. He watches the movement, swallowing.

“I like when you do that. It makes me happy.”

Your face starts to warm. “I didn’t know that.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I’ll work on that.”

You nod slowly, thinking. “I’ll work on… growing up, I guess. Being an independent person. Becoming successful on my own, just like you.” You smile softly up at him. He just quirks an eyebrow.

“You already are. Your grades, and your student council stuff…”

You lean forward, planting your forehead on his chest. “You’re a nationally scouted volleyball player, and you think me having good grades makes me successful?”

He puts his free hand on the back of your head, tangling his fingers in your hair. “I think I’m failing two of my classes.”

He smiles when you snort into his shirt. And then he chews on his lip, thinking.

“So… am I un-dumped?”

You laugh, letting go of his hand so you can wrap both arms around his waist, pulling him in. “Yes, Kags. You’re un-dumped.”

His heart swells, just a little.

“And the wedding?”

You think about it. Your fairytale wedding, with the prince of your dreams. The prince, who is flawed. And you, also flawed. And the fairytale, which apparently needs a lot of work.

“We’ll see.”

You feel him huff. “But you promised me goats.”

You look up, surprised. You hadn’t brought that up since middle school. “I thought you said no.”

He pouts, sheepish. “That’s because I’m pretty sure animals don’t like me very much.”

You can’t help the smile that’s growing on your face. He looks down at you, his fingers still tangled in your hair. And then he leans down, using those fingers to angle your head so he can drop his lips to yours without a word.

You feel his grip tighten nervously, and you raise onto your tiptoes, wanting to be closer, wanting to keep feeling this nervous. Wanting to stay like this forever.

Eventually, he pulls away, but only enough to whisper to you, his lips still against yours.

“ Will you still come to my game on Friday ?” He smiles wide when you snort and nod. “ And you’ll stay with me? The whole weekend? ”

You whisper back. “ If you want me to. ”

He just kisses you again.

–

Things are different now. Even though those four days had been a blip in the radar of your lives – which haven’t changed very much – things are different because of them. Kageyama becomes a boyfriend in more than just title alone.

He sends you awkward pictures of himself at the cafeteria, showing you that he eats without you needing to remind him. He still calls at 4:30 for his morning runs, but he tells you within a few minutes that you should go back to sleep, that he can get ready even if you’re snoring on the other end, because he doesn’t want you working so early in the morning. And then he calls after practice to ask about your day, about your student council meetings, about your college applications. He asks more questions as you talk, because he wants to know more about you.

He wants to keep knowing more about you, with every part of you that changes.

He comes home for Christmas, sitting through your joint family dinner with that blank stare but with his hand firmly nestled in yours, his arms reaching after you anytime you move to do something that would separate you. And then he takes you to see the Christmas lights in town, buying you anything that catches his eye and pulling you in for a kiss under every mistletoe he sees, because there’s nothing he likes more than a free excuse to kiss you. He comes back for the school festival, even though he has a game the next day, because he know it means everything to you that he’s there. And he wants to support you the way you support him.

He slowly stops looking to you for what he should be doing as your boyfriend. He starts relying on himself, because he knows now that it’s okay if he doesn’t know everything. He just does what he wants whenever he wants to, because more often than not, it ends up being something that makes you happy.

You graduate in the spring and follow him to Tokyo after being admitted into their Chemistry program. It’s nerve-wracking, leaving home like that, but you know it’s for the best that you do. You even fight Kageyama when he tries to get you to move in with him right away.

‘ We’re going to live together forever anyway’ , he says when you tell him you decided to be assigned to a dorm instead. You tell him that that’s exactly why you should live apart now. You have forever.

You’re terrified on your first day of the program, but those fears fade away and are replaced with relief and gratitude, because Kuroo Tetsurou is waiting for you outside, already a fourth year in the same major. He takes you under his wing, introducing you to your new seniors and giving you advice about which classes to take and which professors to avoid.

You make friends with the people in your year, and you hang out with Kuroo whenever you can, because he treats you like an adult, asking for your thoughts on his thesis and giving you opportunities to network with the right people but never doing it for you. Because it’s your future, so you’re the one that has to work for it.

You and Kageyama get into fights now. There are days when he clearly isn’t listening, when he needs to be told multiple times to do something like his laundry or writing that email to that professor about that missing assignment. He asks you multiple times to remind him, and you tell him you’re not his mother and that he’s an adult, for fuck’s sake. He always grumbles when you say it, but he never needs telling twice after that.

And on the days when you feel insecure, when you worry that you’re telling him too often what you want and not giving him enough freedom to act on his own, you close off. You stop communicating, because you forget that the whole reason you feel guilty is because you’re worried he’s not communicating. He’s never gentle with you on those days, because he doesn’t know how to be. He just snaps at you, warning you that you better not get trapped in your destructive cycle, that you just need to talk to him because he’s not a mind reader. You always end up spilling your guts to him afterward, crying like a baby because of the guilt and also because you’re mad that he yelled at you. But you’re still glad that he had.

Those days when you fight are always hard, but they feel real. They feel like a relationship created by people who try for each other because they care about each other. Kageyama slowly becomes a self-sufficient adult who learns to read you better than anyone else, and you slowly let go of the anxiety that had filled you for those first few months after getting back together.

Before you even realize it, two years have gone by and you’re moving into your new apartment for the start of the semester. Kageyama is graduating this year, and he’s still unhappy that you won’t move in with him, even now, but he leaves you to your decisions, because they’re yours.

You both make passing comments about marriage, but you never feel the need anymore to think about it the way you used to. You’d found your notebook from middle school – the one with the hearts around his name – while on a trip home, and you’d almost burned the thing in embarrassment.

Marriage is no longer the fairytale wedding you’d constantly dreamed of, to the prince who could do no wrong. Now, it’s just an expected next step in your relationship, to the man of your dreams – because you’ve always loved him, and you find new ways to fall for him all the time – but there are definitely days when you want to smack him with whatever you have on hand.

Despite that, though, he’s still your prince from the sandbox. That part would never change.

Things are good.

–

“ So, Hinata asked me how far we’ve gone again .”

You sigh out deeply through your nose when you hear that.

You’re in an otherwise empty lab, just after 7pm. Your studies had gone extremely well, and you’re on track to receive Honors, but unfortunately, that had come with the added responsibility of a rather rigorous independent study project. Your third year began with a pile of journal articles and the keys to your advisor’s lab, which you now use after working hours in order to develop your thesis.

You’re prepping materials for another round of experiments that you’ll run starting tomorrow, when Kageyama calls. You’ve got your headphones in, phone in your back pocket as you run around the room organizing. You can tell by the background noise that he’s riding his bike.

“You know, he is awfully interested in our physical relationship. What does he want, a threesome or something?” There’s a long pause after you say that, one where you can feel his desire to pick a fight. “I’m guessing you didn’t find that funny.”

“ Oh, could you tell? I was trying to figure out how to make my silence angrier .”

Ever since he’d picked up the concept of sarcasm from Hinata, you often have to wonder if that’s what he’s doing or if he’s still just being blunt.

“So what did you end up telling him?” You pull a blank chart from the drawer at your desk and open your laptop to check your notes. You have to document which chemicals you plan on using so you can file the report for clearance.

“That we fuck like bunnies and often in public.”

That was certainly sarcasm.

“You’re funny.”

“He thought so, too.”

Apparently, it was not sarcasm.

You look up from your work, staring out the window in disbelief. “You actually told him that?! ”

He laughs on the other end.

“Well, he didn’t believe me anyway, so–”

“You are so annoying, Kageyama-”

“ I work hard at it .”

You just shake your head, a laugh leaving you. “So? What did he end up telling you that you need to do?”

Kageyama sighs on the other end. “ I knew you would say that .”

He’d stopped listening blindly to the words of his high school friend group. Hinata asks every few months about your relationship because he’s painfully nosy, and Tsukishima continues to insist that it’s actually because Kageyama is a specimen worth scientific analysis and that it’s shocking that he’d managed to get you back and keep you.

Yamaguchi is the only helpful one and therefore the only one that you meet up regularly with for coffee.

Rather than just doing whatever it is that Hinata thinks you two should be doing, however, Kageyama always brings it to you, asking if you think that’s true or if he should kick his friend’s ass. Most times, it’s the latter.

This time, Kageyama surprises you.

“ He didn’t suggest anything. I didn’t give him anything for him to go off of.”

You hum with interest. “Why?”

“ Because we kiss, and we hold hands, and we spend the night at each other’s houses, and there was that one time we both drank too much and then you jumped me as soon as we were alone- ”

“Oh, my God.” You groan under your breath, wishing he would let that go already. You were drunk and he was particularly pretty that night. And, if you remember correctly – and you do – he had wasted no time slipping his hands under your shirt when you’d started kissing him, so it wasn’t exactly one-sided.

“ -so I guess there was just nothing to tell him. The only thing he would really tell me anyway is that we should have sex, but I think if he’d said that to me, I would have thrown him out a window, so… ”

You flush but say nothing, only offering him a hum of acknowledgment. You two still haven’t gone that far, because Kageyama isn’t ready.

‘It’s one thing to learn to be a good boyfriend,’ He’d said. ‘ But I feel like, if I don’t do this right, I could hurt you. If I’m not good at knowing how to treat you – if I’m selfish with this, even on accident – then something bad would happen between us. ’

You had completely understood, and you’d just thanked him for being honest with you about it. It was back when you’d first started college, back when he still couldn’t read you the way he can now. It wasn’t priority for you, not enough to feel neglected and never enough to pressure him about it.

You had both still been kids back then. You weren’t ready either, to be honest. So it had just never come up again.

Even just a few months ago, on that night when you’d both gotten drunk and ended up in his bed, his hands fumbling for places he’d never been brave enough to go while sober, you had woken up to a guilty look on his face. He’d apologized so earnestly, terrified he’d gone too far, that he hadn’t done it right. It had taken you almost an hour to bring him down, assuring him that you’d had fun and that absolutely nothing was wrong.

You’d known then that even though he can read you perfectly now, sometimes better than you realize, he’s still worried about it. But it’s not like you’re in any rush to get there. You’re both extremely busy, and you barely have time to see each other outside of Friday and Saturday nights, which you’d both decided would be the time when no one else was allowed to contact you.

Just you and him on your couch with bad takeout, your phones lying forgotten in the kitchen. No teammates, no emails from your advisor, nothing.

It’s your favorite part of the week, and you know it’s his, too, because he always gets extremely affectionate on those two nights, his hands lingering on your skin and his lips on yours any chance he gets. That’s as far as he ever goes, and you’re more than happy with that. His attention, his time, his love – it’s all more than enough.

“ -guess I was kind of thinking about it, though… Or… I don’t know, I’ve been thinking for a few months… since that night… I don’t know.”

You have an inkling of what he’s talking about, your nerves suddenly on edge as you stop writing, giving him your full attention. You twirl your pen around your fingers, leaning back in your chair and putting your work aside.

“Thinking about…?”

There’s nothing but the sound of wind in your ears for a moment. It doesn’t sound like he’s in traffic anymore, which means he’s on campus. He must be close by.

“ I don’t know… I kind of feel like I might be ready…?”

You freeze, wondering if you’d heard correctly, and your phone slips and falls out of your back pocket in that stretch of silence. It clatters to the floor loudly, and you know Kageyama hears it on the other end, his voice judgmental in your headphones.

“ Hey. Alive and unharmed, please. I don’t ask for much .”

You laugh nervously and shake your head, reaching down for your phone. That’s the first thing he’d said when he’d learned that you’d be spending 20 hours a week locked in a chemistry lab this year.

‘Try your best to stay alive and unharmed, okay?’

He’d had no idea that the chemicals are all safety locked, because of course he wouldn’t, so he thinks you’re just in a room surrounded by shelves of corrosive liquids all day.

“What, you gonna cancel the wedding if your girlfriend gets a really awful, face-altering chemical burn? That’s low, Kageyama.” You joke, checking your phone for scratches and then setting it on your desk. He jokes back with ease, his social skills having improved so much over the last few years that he can even go toe to toe with Tsukishima when he’s feeling particularly sarcastic.

“ No, I’m gonna cancel the wedding if my girlfriend manages to blow herself up, because that’s just embarrassing .” You laugh again, louder when he adds, “ -a national volleyball champion marrying someone who trips over her own feet? Pass. ”

“ Wow -” You throw your head back, your laugh echoing in the empty room. “You’ve gotten meaner over the last few years-”

“ Yeah, well, you grew up and became a mini Kuroo, which might be worse .”

You snort, letting a semi-comfortable silence settle between you as you think about what he’d said. That he might be ready. The thought of taking that step with him had always given you a little rush of butterflies, but they’d been easy enough to put in a box for another time.

Now… your hands are starting to sweat and your stomach is flipping.

You hear his bike start to slow, the wind less harsh in the mic of his headphones. He sighs quietly.

“ Almost done with work? ”

You survey your desk. You’d gotten enough done to call it a day.

“I suppose I could schedule you in.”

“ Funny. Get down here .” He cuts the call without another word.

You grin, packing up and checking that the lab is in order as you’re heading out.

Kageyama’s sitting on a bench outside, bouncing his knee while he waits for you. He stands when he sees you, eyes a little wary.

“Hey…”

You smile wide as you run to meet him. He looks nervous. Probably because you hadn’t said anything when he’d told you he’s ready.

You can fix that.

You reach for his hoodie when you’re close, fisting the material in your hand and dragging him down to meet you. You plant your lips on his, stepping up onto your tiptoes to make things easier.

“ You sure that’s what you want? ” You whisper against his mouth, feeling the way he smiles when he hears it.

He doesn’t answer, just taking your face in his hands and pushing his lips harder against yours.

“ Let’s go home .”

–

It doesn’t happen that night.

You sit together on the couch in your apartment after dinner, but he must be more tired than he’d realized, because he’s asleep, head in your lap, less than ten minutes later. You just smile down at him, carding your fingers through his hair and scratching softly at his scalp for a few minutes. He eventually mumbles under his breath at the feeling, turning and burying his face in your stomach.

His quiet words, muffled in your shirt, reach you in the comfortable silence of your apartment.

“ Love you… ”

Your heart skips. He’s said it before, in the darkness of his bedroom with you wrapped in his arms. At the end of a phone call while he’s abroad for a game. In the middle of a fight, said with frustration and your cheeks squeezed between his fingers, because even when you’re not listening to him – even when he has to grab your face and make you look at him just to get you to focus on him – he still loves you.

And now this, when he’s asleep and has no idea what he’s just said. When he has no control over his thoughts and the way they take form on his tongue. When he can still feel you here with him, even when he’s not here at all.

He says it then, and you can finally see just how deep those words run for him. How engrained they are in his soul, just as they are in yours.

You fall asleep like that, fingers tangled in his hair and his words fresh in your memory.

–

You wake the next morning to the sound of rustling, the bed dipping next to you. It must be early, the sky outside your window still a bit dark. Had he carried you here?

“ Kags… ?”

He says nothing, but there’s more shifting and then something’s hitting the mattress beside you lightly. You skim your hand along the sheet until you find it, your eyes still closed. It’s soft, and when you bring it to your face, you realize it’s his t-shirt, still warm with his body heat.

You drape the thing over your face with a gentle smile, breathing in his scent and trying your best not to be soothed back to sleep by it.

And then you feel a hand on your waist, nimble fingers slipping under your shirt and pushing it up along your ribs. His mouth is warm on the newly exposed skin.

“‘m sorry I fell asleep…”

Your stomach flips when you realize what’s happening, and you’re suddenly wide awake. His mouth lifts off just enough that he can whisper to you, his bottom lip dragging along your skin as he moves up your torso.

“ I wanted it to be last night… ”

Your fingers start to go numb when he makes eyes contact with you, his gaze darkened with something you’ve never seen before. He climbs on top of you, caging you into the mattress with his elbows and dipping his head so he can attach his mouth to your neck, his lips hot on your skin.

You tilt your head to the side, mostly to give him better access, but also so that you can see the time flashing back at you from the alarm clock on your bedside table. It’s almost 6am.

“D-Don’t you have practice…?” It’s Saturday morning, which means practice is early, because there are no classes.

“It was cancelled.” He nips at your earlobe, and you feel him breathe a laugh into your ear when you shiver.

“I feel like you’re lying.” They have a game in two weeks. There’s no way it was cancelled.

He just hums into your skin, nibbling on a spot under your ear and finding your hand with his, lacing your fingers together on the pillow. “They can survive a day without me. I have something more important to do.”

You can’t help the sigh that leaves you when he shifts between your legs, nudging your thighs apart so he can lay his body between them.

“And w-what would that be?” Your body feels warm, your head hot and fuzzy. You can’t focus on anything except the way his lips feel against your skin, the way he��s pressing his hips against yours, half-hard already.

“ Have to apologize to my girlfriend for making her wait .” He mumbles it against your throat, his tongue peeking out and swiping gently at your pulse point. Your thighs flex around his hips as a reflex, and he’s grinding down shallowly into you unconsciously. Your free hand trembles as you grip at his bicep.

“Wasn’t waiting… It’s okay…” You try to shake your head for emphasis, to show him that you don’t feel neglected, but your head is so heavy and foggy that you’re not really sure how successful you are. “‘s no rush…”

“No?” His lips move down your skin, hand leaving yours as he travels down to the collar of your shirt and then disappears, his mouth finding that exposed skin of your stomach again. His fingers dance along your ribs and under your shirt, stopping just under the swell of your breasts. “But I’m in a rush.”

“Huh?” You barely lift your head off the pillow, meeting his eyes shallowly. He just grins, kissing down your navel and bringing his hands down so he can tug carefully at the waistband of your shorts. He buries his face there, kissing along the marks your shorts left on you and nipping at your hip bones. His mouth starts to water as he thinks of all the skin he hasn’t touched yet. Claimed yet.

He plans to change that.

“ You’re not in a rush, but-” He leaves your navel alone, sliding down easily and pushing his hands against the hem of your shorts so he can have more access to you. So he can be closer.

He wraps his hands around your thighs, mouth finding your inner thigh easily. You’re warm, soft. His grip on you tightens.

“-now that I know what I want, and how much I want it, I want it now.” He meets your eyes, your own wide and nervous. Your thighs tremble just slightly under his touch. “So I’m in a rush. That okay?”

You just nod, your head falling back against the pillow as you breathe out an unsteady ‘ Okay… ’. You can’t help but jump when his tongue laps against your thigh, and then his voice is reaching your ears, a whisper of your name. You just hum unsteadily to let him know you’re listening.

“ I’m going to need your help… ” He just hold your thighs tight when you lift your head to look at him. “ I can’t do this without you .”

Your stomach flips at how innocently he’s looking at you, despite being in such a compromising place. It never fails to affect you, when he’s so blunt about the fact that he needs you. For a man with a face so neutral, a stare so empty, he’d always been vocal about wanting you by his side, ever since that confession in the park all those years ago.

You don’t think you’ll ever get used to it.

“ Okay… I’m here… ”

He breathes a sigh of relief, pressing his lips to your thigh one more time before letting you go, climbing over you again so he can push his mouth against yours.

His fingers curl around the hem of your shirt, and, with a nod from you at his curious tug, he pulls the thing up and over your head in one motion. You fall back against the bed, fisting the sheets in your hands as you lie there under him, chest exposed for the first time.

He stares down at you, settling back on his knees and letting your shirt slip from his fingers and onto the floor without even realizing. He just stares, lips parted as his eyes dart between your breasts and up to your face.

“I…”

You cave when he trails off, finally bringing your arms up to your chest and hiding yourself, your face burning. Kageyama’s eyes widen, gaze flying up to meet yours firmly.

“What? What happened?” His fingers hover nervously over your arms while he watches you. “What did I do?”

You just shake your head, your ears ringing as you start to feel warm all over. “Nothing, I just… got nervous… that you wouldn’t like them…”

You watch his face, previously so vulnerable and scared that he’d screwed up, fall into a perfect deadpan.

You know that face.

With a click of his tongue, he closes his fingers around your wrists and pulls them off of your chest, pinning them above your head.

“Stop being annoying.”

You scoff, not even slightly offended but still shocked he’d switched up on you like that.

“What the hell-”

“ Smartest fucking girl I know -” He’s mumbling to himself as he presses your wrists down into the pillow. He leans back onto his heels with a shake of his head. “- and you can still be so stupid sometimes .”

“Kag-” You jolt, cutting off, because he’s sliding his fingers up along your ribs and enveloping both of your breasts in his hands at the same time. He’d felt them over your bra before, that night that he’d gotten extra handsy, but to look down and see the way he’s got both hands cupping them, kneading gently with an excited glint in his eye – it makes you realize that you have nothing to be worried about.

Not with him.

“Can I…” He glances up at you, swallowing quickly. “Can I do what I want?”

Your stomach drops, heat building in your navel at the way he’s asking you to let him have his way.

“Yeah… Whatever you want…” You nod, and then your eyes widen, because he’s dropping his hands from your chest to your waist again, fingers hooking into your shorts. You meet his anxious glance with one of your own, but you lift your hips and let him undress you, let him explore. Let him get to know you better, because he’s always saying that that’s what he wants more than anything else.

Kageyama drops your shorts and panties to ground with your shirt, and then he’s hooking both hands behind your thighs and prying them open, letting them drape over his own. You inhale sharply at being so suddenly exposed, and your hands fly down instinctively to cover yourself, but they’re caught easily in his hold.

He sends you one withering look, daring you to try again, but he holds your wrists with the utmost care, feeling your fingers wrap nervously around his own as he stares down at you.

“You’re really pretty… You sure this is all mine?” He can’t take his eyes off of you, not even when your hips shift nervously under the weight of his stare. You whine his name, feeling vulnerable like this.

“I thought there was something you wanted to do…”

He doesn’t bother to look up at you when he responds. “I’m doing it.”

You breathe out a laugh of disbelief, shaking your head.

“Come on, you’re making me nervous again.”

Finally, he looks at you, seeing how anxious your gaze is. How your lips are pursed, how your eyes are begging him not to look so intensely.

He can’t help but smile.

Releasing your hands, he climbs back over you and lowers his lips to yours, gentle but firm. Sure that this is what he wants.

You slide your hands into his hair, anchoring yourself to him and trying not to gasp too loudly when he lowers his hips back down to yours, pressing the fabric of his sweats against your bare core. He pushes his tongue carefully against the seam of your lips, angling his head for a better fit when you part your lips for him.

You’re so focused on kissing him, on feeling the way he brushes his tongue against yours and makes your head swim, that you don’t feel one of his hands finding your breast until he’s cupping it and kneading softly.

“ This okay? ” He murmurs against your lips, growing bolder when you nod earnestly.

“Little more is okay, too…” You feel him try again, feel his thumb pass over your nipple and then find it again when you twitch at the feeling. He focuses his attention there and flicks at it a few times, a weak moan leaving him when you dig your teeth into his bottom lip and pull it into his mouth in response.

The hands you have in his hair grip tighter, and you’re whispering his name against his lips, because he’s bucking his hips forward unconsciously again, bumping up against your core and sending a shock through your skin.

He does it again, on purpose this time, because he likes the little shiver that runs through you, the way you lift your hips to meet his halfway. He likes how you feel under him, your skin soft under his hands and your core wet, starting to soak through his sweats and boxers the longer he touches you.

He drops his mouth to that spot under your ear that he likes, his heart pounding in his ears and his pants tight on him when you whisper into his ear, that ‘ Tobio ’ a half-moan and full of desire. Full of him and everything you want him to do to you.

And when he feels you push at his sweats with a shaky hand – when you arch your back and press your chest against his, asking him quietly to please take them off – he wants nothing more than to make you his.

With a sigh that holds everything he’s nervous about – hurting you, not being able to make you feel good, fucking this up – he leans away just enough to reach over for your bedside table, for the box that sits on top.

You had gone together to the convenience store last night, standing together in mortification and confusion by the condoms. He hadn’t known what size to get. He’d been so lost, and there had been so many options.

You had watched him stand in the aisle with a box marked ‘Medium ’ for so long – long enough that you’d left him there to grab some snacks, to give him space – that by the time you’d come back, arms full of chips and drinks, he was still standing there, staring down at it. He’d switched it out for the large ones at the last second, and you’d tried not to blush at the implication.

Now, as you’re pushing his pants past his hips and staring down at his cock as it slaps lewdly against his navel, you’re realizing that he’d probably made the right choice in that store last night.

He fumbles for the box when he feels the cold air on his hot skin, and it falls to the floor. He swears under his breath, his voice shaky, and he reaches down for it. You watch him carefully, seeing the color of his ears and the flush of his cheeks. He meets your eyes nervously as he’s lifting back up onto the bed.

“ S-Sorry… ” He sits back on his heels, tearing into the box with shaking hands and pulling a condom out, throwing the rest onto the bed next to you. He starts to rip into the foil, but his hands are trembling so bad that he just ends up dropping the packet onto the mattress, between your legs. “Fuck, sorry-”

“Kags-” You sit up, fingers touching the back of his hand when he reaches for it again. He meets your eyes, and you can see that he’s more than nervous. He’s scared. “What is it?”

“I-” He swallows. “I just don’t want to ruin this.”

“You won’t.” You’d been so nervous this whole time, giving him that shy look while he’d been touching you. But now your gaze is firm, unyielding. “You won’t ruin this. You want this, right?”

“So much.” He nods harshly, trying to convey to you how badly he wants this. He’s just scared. “I want this so much.”

“Okay. That’s all that matters, then… Remember? What you want, and what I want. That’s what matters.” When he just blinks, nodding slowly but still unsure, you take his face in your hands and force him to meet your eyes. “It’s me, Tobio.”

Kageyama stills.

It’s you.

The girl from the sandbox, all those years ago, with that princess costume. Asking him to be your prince. Beaming when he’d said yes.

The girl who would cheer for him at every game, screaming his name like there was no one else, like there would never be anyone else.

The girl who’d sacrificed pieces of herself to make him happy, even when he’d been clueless and stupid, too caught in himself to see everything you were giving up for someone as undeserving as him.

The girl who’d tried to leave his side. Who’d left him lost in his head when you weren’t where you were supposed to be, anywhere he would turn, searching for you.

The girl who’d forced him to grow up, loving him and caring for him in a way that he would never find again. The girl who laughs and cries for him, the girl who fights with him and for him, because you’d promised never to leave his side again, and you’d stuck firmly to that decision, no matter how impossible he can be sometimes.

The girl who had looked at him – had seen how much he struggles to understand people’s emotions, how selfish and unaware he can be – and had only ever seen a boy that she’d wanted to spend the rest of her life with.

“It’s you…”

You smile at the dumb look on his face, empty and processing, and nod. “It’s me. I’m not going anyw– mm- ”

Kageyama surges forward, cutting you off and pushing his lips against yours urgently. You hold tight to him as he knocks you off balance, your head meeting the pillow as he kisses you with everything he has. Finds your hand in the sheets and holds tight, like he never wants to let go. Whispers ‘I love you’ against your lips, like it’s not enough for him to say it – he needs you to feel it.

And then he leans away, leaving you to catch your breath with your hand pressed to your heart while he reaches for that forgotten packet lying between your thighs.

He rips it open easily – still nervous, but sure of himself – and rolls the condom on carefully. He scoots his hips toward yours, laying your thighs flat over his, and meets your eyes again as he’s lining himself up at your entrance.

You smile sweetly, nervously. “You’re sure?”

He smiles back, a soft laugh leaving him on his next breath. “I thought that was supposed to be my line.”

There’s no hesitation in your voice when you respond.

“ I’ve always been sure. ”

Kageyama Tobio learns in that moment that not all heartbreak is bad.

His eyelids flutter as he looks down at you, breath caught in his throat. Your fingers find his wrist, and your smile knocks the wind right out of him.

Neither of you say a word as he nudges the tip of his cock past your entrance.

You inhale sharply at the sting, and he stops, eyes wide as he watches you. You nod after a breath, and he keeps going.

He drops his head, feeling how tight you are, how hard it is to push into you. You bring his lips to yours, kissing him and letting him know silently that this is okay, that this is normal. That he’s not messing this up.

You cling to him, burying your head in the crook of his neck when he drops down over you with a shaky sigh. His hips finally meet yours, and all you can feel is your heart beating, everywhere. In your head, in your chest, in your ears. In the place when your body meets his, the place that almost seems to pulse with his heartbeat, too.

His lips find yours, and you kiss him with your hands buried in his hair, holding him close as you tell him everything that you don’t have the breath to say.

You stay like that for a while, and then he’s tensing, because you had clenched around him unconsciously, finally finding the stretch less painful and more pleasurable.

He pulls his mouth away, leaning back so you can prop yourself up on your elbows and then pressing his forehead against yours. You both stare down at the junction of your bodies, breath mingling in the space between you as you fight to calm your hearts.

After a moment, you slide your gaze up to his, only to find that he’s already looking at you. His eyes are full of something – something soft, soft and warm and his – and your stomach flips harshly. You clench again without meaning to, and that look in his eye is gone, disappearing when his eyes roll back briefly, eyelids fluttering at the feeling of you around him.

“I-I’m sorry…”

He only laughs breathily, eyes still shut, and shakes his head.

“Yeah, so am I.” He heaves out another breath, finally finding your gaze again. “This is torture.”

You blink, realizing what he means. “Oh! You can move now, Tobio, I’m fine-”

“You’re telling me that now ?” He looks distraught, and you can’t help but laugh. “Do you have any idea how much self-control it- agh- ” He shakes his head again, dropping his head to your shoulder and knocking you back onto the bed. He tangles his fingers in your hair, speaking into the crook of your neck. “You’re killing me here.”

You shift your hips, intending to apologize, but the feeling of him buried inside of you like this when you move has you gasping. He does the same, your name a half-moan in your skin. He pulls his hips back gently without removing his face from your neck, and you both breath shakily when he pushes into you again, slow but less uncertain than the first time.

The moan that tumbles out of your mouth is amplified by his own, low and harsh in your ear.

“You-” He moves again, and you start to crave the stretch he gives you when he pushes into you again. “-you feel-”

“ Kageyama… ” You cling to his arms, burying your face in his skin and wrapping an arm around his neck to keep him close like this. “It feels-” You cut off, moaning when he snaps his hips harshly.

Neither of you are able to form any coherent thoughts, and you can tell that he’s close when he reaches almost frantically for your hand, gripping so tight that his knuckles turn white.

He doesn’t last long, not when your moans are so close to his ear like this, flying straight down his spine and into a spot just under his bellybutton, shocking his system and shoving him closer and closer to something he can’t even begin to describe.

He comes with your name on his tongue, his face buried in your neck and your hand in his the only thing keeping him grounded. You mewl at the feeling, the sound forcing his hips forward one last time and drawing his name out of your mouth.

You feel full of him, your heart pounding harshly in your ears as he collapses on top of you. You keep your arm wrapped firmly around his neck, holding him against you. He catches his breath like that, his chest heaving against yours as he comes down from his high.

And then his fingers are wiggling against yours in your joined hands, and it almost aches to pry your fingers off of his when he pulls his hand away, sore from the tight grip.

He reaches down blindly, and you think he’s going to lean away from you and pull out.

But he just skims his shaking fingers over your skin, reaching between you and brushing over your core. He stops moving when you jolt against him, and he knows he’s found your clit. He stays firmly there, his middle finger circling the spot gently and adjusting to the way your body responds, the way your back arches and you breathe in harshly at the feeling.

“W-What are you–”

“ You didn’t finish .” He mumbles against your skin. He can tell because you’re still clenching around him, your walls fluttering every time he does something you like. “ ‘m I doing okay? ”

“It’s perfect.” Your eyes start to fill with tears, your heart swelling with emotion. You hide your face in his neck. “ You’re perfect -”

“ Marry me. ”

You almost think for a second that he hadn’t said it. His fingers never stop moving, and he pulls you closer and closer to the edge, still buried inside of you, as if he hadn’t said anything at all.

But you know he had, because he’s saying it again, even as your head is starting to fill with white static at the way he’s touching you.

“Let’s get married.” He pulls his head away from your neck, and his eyes are meeting yours. “Please. Marry me. Let me make you happy.”

His fingers swipe over your clit, and those tears that were filling your eyes are spilling over now, your chest drowning in that feeling of love that you’d become so familiar with over the years. It forces a choked sob out of you, and you’re nodding frantically as he’s nudging the tips of his fingers against that spot again.

He laughs breathily, and if you could see through your tears, you would know that he’s staring down at you like he’s never seen something so perfect. Your tears stream down your face and onto the pillow, and the feeling growing in the pit of your stomach has you reaching for his shoulders to pull him back down.

“ I love you– ”

Kageyama drops his head to your shoulder as you come undone, your body twitching and your back arching as you cry for him. He holds you tight, murmuring his love into your ear as you come down, breathing hard against his skin.

You lie there, wrapped up in him as you sob, because you can’t find your breath and because he’s holding you like you’re somehow still not close enough.

“I love you…”

His words are soft in your ears, soft against your tears.

“I’ve loved since before I knew what that meant.”

You cry harder, squeezing your eyes shut and sobbing into him.

“I was so bad at loving you before.” He finally pulls away so he can meet your eyes. You can barely see him, vision blurry. “But I know how to love you now. You taught me how to love you. I can’t unlearn that.”

Your hands are shaking as they grip his shoulders. He waits until your breath starts to even out, until you’re blinking the tears out of your eyes and finally seeing him. Until your heartbeat can match his.

“Please let me keep loving you.”

You whisper his name, and then nod. He starts to smile, and you beam back at him, your smile watery and fragile. He combs your hair out of your face, wiping your tears away with his thumb while he talks.

“Is that a yes? You’ll marry me?”

You just nod again, leaning your face against his hand.

“Okay.”

He sighs, heated, and rolls his eyes.

“You’re annoying.”

“You love me.”

His smile gives him away.

#haikyuu #haikyuu smut #kageyama tobio #kageyama x reader #kageyama smut

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