#What should you not do at a wedding reception
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ghostgirl-22 · 2 days ago
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Thinking about steamy makeout and foreplay between art and patrick and arts begging for patricks fingers inside him
Just imagining his wet lips, flushed face ... 🤤
Yummy yum yum! You’re a genius nonnie 🫠
—-
Patrick can hear the sounds of his brother’s wedding reception going strong from the backyard tent. It’s some yards from the boat house he’s tumbled into with Art.
The place is only lit up because of the fairy lights, his sisters doing, though Patrick never wants to think about who they’ve been in here with. But the way they reflect off the water and make everything glow, these images will likely haunt his memory forever.
He knows he’s gotta be back by the time they set off fireworks… but right now he’s got his best friend sitting in a little row boat and they’re kissing drunk and heavy petting. No, not petting, Art’s riding.
“No, ‘m not doing that,” Patrick whispers again. This is insane, enough to make him feel crazy.
Art’s lips are kiss swollen and wet, so fucking wet. He’s staring at Patrick with puppy dog eyes, pupils dilated, flushed from all the kissing and champagne. The weight of his body on Patrick’s lap, settled right on his cock. Every movement he makes bringing Patrick closer to the brink.
“Oh come on. Why not?” Art asks, he bites his lip grinning, “Have you never done it before?” His tone, his voice is setting Patrick’s teeth on edge. “Have I really found the thing you’ve never done before?” He teases.
“God, fuck off,” Patrick whispers.
Art pouts but only for a minute before he’s rocking his hips again, gently grinding. He’s so pretty, still dressed up in his waistcoat and dress slacks but Patrick knows he can feel it all. “Please,” he whispers taking hold of Patrick’s hand… he brings it to his lips and sucks Patrick’s ring and middle finger slowly into his pretty little mouth. Insane.
Patrick holds his breath. He’s crazy enough to slide his fingers back and forth, in and out, just to watch Art suck. Art’s keeping eye contact. He wants this bad.
Patrick’s mouth goes dry. His heart thrums like a hammer against his chest, he’s taking ragged breaths and Art keeps going. Keeps going till he’s practically drooling on his fingers, slobbering all over them like it’s too much when Patrick knows he can take so… much… more. Patrick scissors them around watching him adjust to accommodate for it, listening to him hum and moan eagerly as his tongue moves every which way and spit starts to dripdrop from his too pink lips. Patrick pushes them further down his throat and he starts coughing, gagging, licking his lips again. Patrick’s throbbing so hard he thinks his cock might spontaneously combust.
Art just leans back smiling. “They should be wet enough, right? You can put them in me?”
“Art,” Patrick closes his eyes because he’s at the point where he can’t think and watch him at the same time. “If I put my fingers in you, I won’t… I won’t be able to…” he trails off and opens his eyes again. Art’s watching him. Looking just like his name.
He tilts his head, tongue on the tip of his teeth, hair in his eyes. “You really don’t want to finger fuck me?”
Patrick laughs, he has no choice, he just looks down at his lap, at Art’s thighs resting on his and chuckles because Jesus Christ. “No I don’t want to finger fuck you. I want to fuck you, fuck you.” He looks up at Art again and Art looks back, amused. Fucking brat. He knows exactly what he’s doing.
“But… don’t you have to start somewhere?”
——
So sorry nonnie, I feel like you wanted submissive Art, but I still somehow gave him all the power. That’s my bad!! He just runs Patrick in my head.
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novashelby · 23 hours ago
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He'll Kill and Die for Me: Dark!Evie Au
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Summary: Evelyn isn't happy about her father's wedding and has some choice words for Grace. And to Grace's disappointment, Tommy isn't the supportive husband he promised to be.
Warnings: Mention of killing, mention of suicide, dark!Evie, Au.
Words: 650
This is not related to the actual story. Just an AU I wanted to dabble into. Though, something similar does happen in the main story, just not like this.
Read, comment, and reblog!
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Martha told her that you can’t wear white to a wedding, but Evelyn Shelby hadn’t gave a single fuck. She wore white, showed up late, and had red lipstick on her face. And, best of all, she sat in the front, her middle finger propped nicely on her knee. She didn’t hate many, but she fucking couldn’t stand the purple clad bitch. “You’re not very discreet,” her Aunt Ada whispered. “Actually, you’re quite disrespectful.” But she could only grin in response because she knew what she was doing, staring at her father. 
And when it came time for the reception, she had no care to be there. Socializing and mixing with them. Her, of all people, her. But when she went upstairs, Grace had been lingering in her bedroom. “You know, Evelyn,” she said, watching as the young girl twitched. 
“I don’t like people in my room-”
“There’s help for girls like you,” she continued, malice tainting her words. “You need help. Your father isn’t your lover, Evelyn, he’s your father-”
“He isn’t really your lover, either,” Evelyn retorted. “No, you had one back wherever the fuck you were. Wrung himself with a rope, did he? Must feel nice knowing you can kill a man just by existing.” If the wench was to insinuate Evelyn had any more than daughter-father affections for Tommy, she was going to play the game and make sure she got to the finish line before Grace. She moved forward. “You should really be careful, you know.”
Grace, deadpanned and dryly asked, “why is that?”
“Be careful around the stairs. They’re bit high-”
“Are you threatening me?”
“And one day,” Evelyn paused, dragging out her words. “You may just…slip.”
“You want to push me down the stairs,” Grace concluded, swallowing. “Very well, then, Evelyn. You can continue to live in your delusions.” Grace stood from the white painted vanity, pausing at the door frame, giving the girl a look. “What happened to the kind girl-”
“I’m not kind to those who betray my father-”
“Now you’re just a young girl, but stupid.”
Later as the reception cleared out, Tommy knocked on Evelyn’s door, but didn’t wait for her to answer. Grace was behind him. She looked up from her desk, smiling, but her father wasn’t. “Evelyn, did you and Grace have a talk earlier?”
She blinked and pretended to think. “Um, hmm, earlier? A brief one.”
Tommy sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed, hands folded. “Did you tell Grace that you’d push her down the stairs?” He was clearly uncomfortable with the confrontation. Evelyn, shocked, stood from her vanity. 
“Daddy! How…why…how could you come up with something so silly like that?” She sat on his lap, which he cradled her. “Daddy, look at me,” she whispered, holding his face in her hands. “When have I ever done something so harsh?” Tommy’s frown broke into a soft smile, and Evelyn leaned in, placing a lingering kiss on his cheek.
“I know,” he whispered, hand rubbing circles on her back. “It’s just a misunderstanding.” Grace’s face dropped all emotions as she stood there, repulsed and confused…gaslit and humiliated. As Evelyn hugged her father tightly, she grinned at Grace and raised her middle finger.
Sliding off his lap, she smiled. “I’m sorry if you may have misheard me. I was telling you that the maids were polishing the stairs this morning. They’re still slippery, daddy. Saw Uncle Arthur take a bit of a trip.” He smiled down at her, running his fingers through her hair. 
“Well, that’s settled,” he said, fixing his coat. He started to walk out and said, “I’m going to grab the car and then we’re off, love.” He gave Grace a kiss.
When Evie was sure of it, she snorted, walking to the baffled bride. Grabbing her jaw roughly with her thumb and index, she said, “remember, Grace, daddy will fight for you, but he’ll kill and die for me.”
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ifidiedinadream · 6 months ago
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i have this wedding coming up right and i'm gonna get my hair done by a hairdresser and everything and i was thinking about how i wanted my hair and. well i like bows nowadays (not blaming my dd/lg fics at all 🙂) and i said why don't i get my hair curled and put a bow on the back of my head and mom goes wow you'd look super pretty so now i bought two (2) huge ass bow hair clips
im gonna wear this long pink satin dress, lucid black stilettos, lucid black purse and a black bow and im gonna look so babygirl why can't daddy be my +1!!!!!!!!!!
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cetoddle · 16 days ago
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okay. i am going to continue being stupid. and lowkey embarrassing. and a big stupid fucking idiot. i don’t know what’s wrong w me just ignore me forever okay? okay <3
#why why why why why why why why#i don’t even know what to say anymore my brain is going one thousand miles per hour and it’s all STUPID !!!!#why am i lowkey 24 years old a grown ass adult with literally the stupidest circumstantial crush rn#i don’t even wanna admit that’s what it is cause like. girl. why am i the worlds biggest idiot#i want to bash my head into a wall i don’t even know his name! i never spoke to the man! i know nothing! about him!!#im usually rlly good about not letting myself get all worked up over ppl i find attractive#but for some reason this feels out of my control. i’m trying to just like. get over it. but my brain just won’t stop being so FUCKING#stupid and it’s SO embarrassing!!#what i’m about to say is especially embarrassing to admit but like. idk what to do idk why this happening#i keep catching myself like. daydreaming abt what it would be like 2 hold his hand or give him a hug#i just wanna wrap my arms around his neck and feel his hands on my waist and i dont!! know where this is coming from!!!!!!!!#i wish i could spray my brain with a water bottle every time this happens because frankly this is just getting ridiculous#we are not gonna marry the man! we never spoke to him! we’re never going to see him again for the rest of our lives okay!!#get it together dumbass. so we saw a beautiful boy at a wedding reception and became enamored with his mannerisms so what who cares#it doesn’t matter u know! so what if it was attractive how he sat with his leg propped up while he looked at his camera#or how u caught him buttoning and unbuttoning his little jacket over and over. or the way he leaned against the wall to watch the crowd#or his stupid dumb cute lil smile or how the few times you accidentally made eye contact w him ur heart went all pap pap and shit#it was just a fleeting moment! who gives a shit!! get over it!!#god. it’s especially embarrassing cause i’m here obsessed w the man still desperately wishing i could talk to him and idk learn everything#about him. and i know damn well to him i was just some creepy girl who wouldn’t stop staring at him. he probably thinks im like. plotting#his death or something. i’m not. but i should probably plot my own if i don’t get over this soon#idk idk idk i literally don’t know why this is happening!#we’ve seen hot ppl before why is this different! god!!!!!!!#i haven’t felt this way abt someone in such a long time#and it’s just frustrating knowing just how stupid i am sitting here like this#cause i know he doesn’t care. he doesn’t know me. and that’s fine! idk why my brain is doing this!#whats wrong w me genuinely. i can’t control what’s happening is so fucking weird#i truly feel like im going insane i can’t make sense of why this is happening to me#stupid stupid stupid stupid SO embarrassing idk idk#snow.txt
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hiraethwrote · 1 month ago
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THE HEART GROWS FONDER
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pairing : kento nanami x f!reader summary : (requested) — kento nanami loved you before he even knew you, and his feelings were the one thing he never questioned. like pieces of a puzzle, you fit together. whatever happens, your feelings never waver. cw : childhood friends to lovers, reader is v emotional, canon events/jjk0 spoilers, mentions of character death, mutual and intense pining, miscommunication lack of communication, mild one-bed-trope?, platonic!satoru (bc apparently i am unable to write anything without mentioning him), light profanity, pet names, talk of wedding, sweet fluff, a good chunk of angst, slight jealousy, no use of y/n word count : 10.1 k
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Kento was a knowledgeable man.
He knew how long it took to get from one place in Tokyo to another, no matter what time of day it was. Well aware of all the best routes for traveling the city most efficiently, even during rush hours.
He knew all the ways to make the most money. Not what he was proudest of, but working hard had garnered him a set of useful skills that made him a good employee, a real asset to the company.
He knew how to read a map, a skill long forgotten by most in this day and age. Should he ever find himself in a situation where there was no reception, he would be able to get his hands on a sheet displaying the nearby areas and figure out how to return to civilisation.
He knew how to best take care of his body. He had done extensive research to make sure he moved his body correctly during workouts to not harm himself. He wasn’t interested in aching joints when he was old and gray.
And he knew he loved you — since the very first moment his eyes landed on you all those years ago.
He remembered the exact moment in excruciating detail as well, like how he had turned a little scared at the unfamiliar sensation of a racing heartbeat. When pressing his hand to his chest, he felt the rapid thumping. He quickly realised it was caused by the sight of you when it happened every time he spotted you.
His dad would tease him whenever he caught Kento sitting in the windowsill, chubby cheeks resting on his forearms as he gazed lovingly towards the little girl playing in her front yard a few houses down. “I’m sure she would love to play with you.” His face would turn bright crimson, a colour that had become all too common in the Nanami household whenever you were brought up, before an embarrassed Kento would stomp up to his room.
He didn’t learn your name until the first day of school — your parents had arranged for the two of you to walk to school together. He had been over the moon when he heard the news, pure excitement filling his body to the point where he could not sit still. But the moment he was stood in front of you, your voice sweet as honey when introducing yourself, his throat dried out and he turned tongue tied. His mom placed a hand on his shoulder, bringing his feet back on the ground, “Kento,” he croaked weakly before disappearing into his jacket.
With small feet carrying you to and from school, you tried to force a conversation out of him but to no prevail. He remained shy and quiet, eventually resulting in a statement that had saddened him more than he could have anticipated; “you don’t talk much, do you?”
There had been no ill intent in your words, but it had Kento distance himself from you. What was supposed to blossom into a friendship (and maybe even more with time), only simmered down to him consistently trialing five steps behind you on the path to school that became all too bleak when it hadn’t turned out how he had imagined it.
His infatuation didn’t seem to disappear anytime soon either. If anything, now having the opportunity to observe you in closer proximity only deepened his feelings. He now got to witness the outgoing and bubbly personality that was wrapped in your cute exterior, exceeding all his expectations of what he had imagined you would be like — fascinated by how you seemed to excel in aspects where he lacked.
And the more time that passed, it seemed the day he would find the courage to catch up and walk along side you traveled further out of his reach.
He continued to admire from afar, watching as you earned yourselves new friendships as easily as putting your shoes on in the morning. Kento wasn’t the only one drawn to your outgoing personality and charming smile, his heart breaking a little when you formed a tight knit friend group and he didn’t get to be a part of it.
That’s how it went. Kento sort of just blended into the background, never making a number of himself. He was nearly certain no one really knew he even existed at all (except the teachers, who absolutely adored him). Day after day, he sat by himself with a book in his hands, only ever looking up to admire you for a few seconds as you would play with your friends.
However, he preferred the quiet life in school more than what it evolved into as second grade rolled around.
During recess, he would sit with his book, same as always, counting the minutes until school was over so he would walk those five familiar steps behind you — that’s when two third graders had approached him, their intention clear as day.
Their antics continued for two weeks — until what he thought was the voice of an angel interrupted.
“Hi there.”
Kento would recognise that voice anywhere, turning towards the source to see you, huge grin plastered on your face, both hands behind your back as you stared down the two third graders.
“What’s going on here?” You asked in such a sweet and innocent tone, but all three of the boys could see there was something borderline unfriendly in your eyes that was not present in your words.
“Doesn’t concern you,” one of the mean kids bit back.
“Hmm,” you hummed, pressing your lips together before shifting to a serious tone. “I think it does, because from over there-“ you pointed in the direction of where you had stood moments earlier, “it looked like you were picking on my friend.”
Friend? Had he heard you right?
Before they could retaliate, you had already opened your mouth again, “I’ll scream! The adults will come and you’ll be in biiiig trouble!” Your tone had been so cheerful, but that same threatening intent lingered in your gaze — a look one did not want to receive from a stubborn, little seven year old.
It seemed like your scare tactic worked, because after grumbling to themselves for a few seconds, they shuffled away with their tails between their legs. And once they were far enough away not to be a bother anymore, you squatted down on the gravel beside Kento, wrapping your arms around your legs.
“You okay, Kento?” Completely transformed, not a hint of your malice present any longer, just soft and genuine concern when speaking his name.
He blinked a few times, using the back of his hand to dry the few tears that had watered up in the corner of his eyes before he answered you. “‘M fine,” he sniffled, then daring to look you in the eyes to mutter a shy “thank you.”
“Anytime.”
You couldn’t explain why you had decided to interfere — because labelling Kento a friend wasn’t entirely true. The boy had barely said a word to you for the year you had known him, but you had just been filled with anger when you witnessed the older kids choose to pick on him. He did not have a mean bone in his body. And maybe somewhere along the line, you had gained a soft spot for the reserved kid, having not been able to stop glancing over your shoulder from time to time when you walked to and from school, just to make sure he was still there.
Never had Kento imagined that the taunting from his upperclassman would be his biggest blessing to date. He no longer sat alone during lunch, but instead accepted your invite to eat with you and your little clique.
And finally your friendship with Kento had the opportunity to grow.
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Thanks to you, school had become a lot more enjoyable for him after that. The walks to and from school was no longer spent with an awkward distance, now matching your pace as you both indulged in small talk from the moment you left school until he left you at your door.
He knew he should have been satisfied, and in one way he was. He was finally allowed to call you his friend after all, but during school hours, you usually hung out the entire group. And on your spare time, you had a tendency to reserve your time just for the girls. So while he wished for more, he continued to shoot longing, and not so subtle, gazes across the table.
It abruptly changed when you were thirteen, walking home from school like any other day, when your blunt question had cut through the conversation.
“Hey, you want to go to the movies with me?”
“What?” Kento’s thirteen year old brain had not been able to comprehend the question, stopping dead in his tracks to stare at you with big eyes, swallowing the massive lump in his throat. Had you just asked him on a date?
You stopped when you noticed he did, staring right back at him like this wasn’t a big deal. “None of the girls were interested, and you’re the only boy in our group I can tolerate without any of the girls,” you rolled your eyes. You had turned a little feisty when entering your teens.
“Uh, yeah, sure,” he said, drawing his lips into an awkward line, hoping he could play it off as a smile.
Your deadpanned expression immediately twisted into one of pure joy. “Great!”
Kento had stood in front of his mirror all afternoon, using both his hands to smoothen the crinkles of his shirt, treating it very much like a date. He didn’t even realise how long he had been stressing in his room until his mom came knocking, telling him you were waiting outside.
He had been a little disappointed when he saw you, because it became very evident you did not consider it a date. Wearing the same outfit you had worn to school that day, resting on the handlebars of your bike. “C’mon, we need to get popcorn before the movie starts,” you nagged, just the tiniest bit annoyed.
When stood in the kiosk, he had offered to pay for the popcorn, like the good, little gentleman he had been raised to be. “Oh, no need. Mom gave me money to pay for it,” you said cheerfully with a shrug and a smile. “Thanks, though.”
The movie couldn’t hold Kento’s attention, even if he wanted to, because for the whole ninety minutes you had your knee rested against his. The sensation of the shy touch of your leg had his heart beat so loud against his ribcage, he was scared you might turn to him and tell it to shush so you could hear the movie.
It wasn’t much, but the pressing feeling was definitely prominent enough that you had to be aware of it too. And in his mind, it seemed only logical you kept your leg still against his because you wanted it to touch him. But whenever he flickered his eyes over to you, you seemed utterly unbothered, attention fixated on the screen as your hand continued to grab popcorn from the bucket.
He tried to keep his breath even, letting his tension spill out by clenching and unclenching his fists. He was so determined to sit completely still, scared the tiniest flinch would cause you to shift your leg away from him.
Trips to the movies, just in each other’s company, became a regular occurrence after that. And about half of the time, you let him pay… only because you paid the other half, but he let himself wallow in the idea that he was treating you for the evening.
He was in high school when one of your friends had asked about it. “What’s really going on there, Kento?”
He had immediately decided to play dumb. Not because he was embarrassed, but if there was even the slightest chance it would feed them material they could use to make you uncomfortable, he wanted to avoid it. “What do you mean?”
“Come on, man,” he laughed mockingly. “You and her,” nodding towards where you stood with your girlfriends in the cafeteria line. “The two of you hang out with each other more than us these days.”
“I don’t know, we’re friends?” Kento shrugged, almost certain he was able to play it off as casual.
“Friends? Right, friends who constantly go on movie dates together.”
“They’re not dates,” was all he had been able to say to defend himself, feeling his cheeks grow hot like they had done when he was younger.
They had all chucked at him then. “Yeah, whatever man. Congratulations bagging the prettiest girl in school,” was the last thing that was said before you and the rest of the girls joined their table. You sat down beside Kento, like always.
Carefully, you had nudged his arm to get his attention. “You okay?” You asked quietly so only he could hear.
He gave you a weak but genuine smile. “Yes, just lost in thought is all.” You smiled back at him, making his heart skip a beat.
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You don’t remember when it changed for you. If it had been a gradual thing, or if you had just woken up one day with this feeling — but something was definitely different.
The realisation had hit you mid sentence. Rambling on about some meaningless topic, like you always did, and suddenly you noticed the way he was looking at you.
He was listening so intently, not missing a single word coming from your mouth, a faint smile stamped at the corner of his lips and a tenderness in his eyes you hadn’t really noticed before. You only managed to snap out of it when he spoke your name.
“Am I losing you by not talking?” He teased before taking a sip out of his coffee.
“Shit,” you muttered, his eyebrows raising in surprise. “I just remembered this group assignment I have due tomorrow.” A lie — and an obvious one at that. But Kento didn’t get a moment to ask any follow-up questions before you had gathered your stuff and rushed to say goodbye, leaving him alone in the cafe.
For the entire walk home, you thought about Kento, now suddenly in a new light, reflecting over the entirety of your friendship.
You became aware of how he always seemed to prioritise you in the group without hesitation. You had just brushed it off, assuming he felt indebted to you for coming to his rescue when you were seven. But you realised now how ridiculous that sounded.
You thought of all the times he had come running when you had asked for him. Whether it was after a fight with one of your girlfriends, or a date that had gone horribly wrong, he dropped everything to be by your side.
You realised now why you always caught yourself answering with a frown when girls came to ask you about him. As you had gotten older, he had definitely grown into his looks, a subtle kind of handsome that snuck up on you.
When you got home, you had pulled out your phone to send a text to apologise for bailing so abruptly. But you typed and deleted the message twenty times over, anxiety you had never felt about him before overwhelming you. In the end, you ended up not sending anything at all, feeling like no words sufficed.
And the next time you met, you acted as if nothing had happened, and he just went along with it.
You tried desperately to act as if nothing had changed, beyond terrified you would scare him off or make him uncomfortable if he picked up on your new and revolutionary feelings for him. If there was one thing you were absolute certain about, it was that you would never do anything to jeopardise the friendship you had with him. There was no competition of what person in your life you cherished the most; Kento Nanami. You’d be the earth's biggest fool to gamble that away for anything.
When you were 16, you nearly caved.
In your desperate attempt of keeping things normal, you had continued your meaningless escapades — which meant going on terrible dates with even more terrible guys — turns out teenage boys are just assholes by default.
“It’s their loss,” Kento cooed in a warm tone, sitting beside you on your bed with a comforting arm around your shoulders.
In all honesty, you didn’t even care all that much about the date. You couldn’t even remember the guy’s name. No, your mind was way more interested in how his strong hand cupped your arm so perfectly.
You turned to look at him, faces closer than ever before. He happily held your gaze — you were just hoping he was able to read the messages it conveyed.
Tell me to stop seeing these guys, and I’ll stop.
Tell me you want me the way I want you.
Tell me it’s you I’m meant to be with.
“You’ll find someone worthy of you eventually.”
Your heart sunk, having built up your own expectations based on how his eyes had roamed your face as if he truly desired you. Maybe this was all in your head.
It wasn’t.
But Kento, much like you, didn’t want to lose you over anything. Confessing risked the relationship he already had with you. He would rather have you as a friend, than not have you in his life at all.
Not long after that, you both joined Jujutsu tech. Slowly but surely, you slipped away from your childhood group — him more than you. You tried your very best to stay in touch, though your new schedule made that hard.
With these new threats looming around you, neither of you could help how your friendship — or whatever you would call what was going on between you — continued to grow deeper. More serious. It went unsaid by the both of you, but there was just a mutual understanding that it was the logical development when there was the slightest possibility of it ending all too soon.
Still neither of you confessed.
You fell into routines, so accustomed to seeing him every minute of every day, your first instinct when returning from a mission was to find him.
As expected, Kento heard the three soft knocks he knew all too well at this point, before you squeezed through his door. With a deep exhale, you fell back on his bed, while he sat in his desk chair, arms crossed over his chest. “I’m exhausted.”
“Did you just get back?” His muscles were a little tense, like they always where whenever you had to go on a mission without him, his eyes searching every inch of you to see if there were any visible injuries he had to worry about.
“Little over an hour ago. Had to escape Gojo talking my ear off about his own mission.”
Kento observed how the corner of your lips tugged upwards in a tired smile, your chest vibrating with a soft chuckle.
He was always happy to see you come back unharmed, but he hated the exhaustion that rested in your joints — and it filled him with an unexplainable urge to help you somehow.
He imagined guiding you to lay on your stomach, placing his legs on each side of you and slowly soothing your muscles, rubbing caring motions along the curves of your body to fill it with the relaxation you deserved — but he couldn’t. It would definitely cross a line, too intimate for just friends.
“Glad you’re back,” he said almost in a whisper.
“Me too.” He could barely hear you, the mission slowly catching up with your energy as well, sensing on your breathing that you weren’t too far from falling asleep.
The silence that surrounded you was comfortable. You had grown so accustomed to each other’s presence, any awkwardness had ceased to exist. Nevertheless, Kento didn’t quite know what to do with himself, just looking at you sprawled out on his bed, a scene he would like to see every night.
“Kento?” Your voice was so soft.
“Yes?”
“Can I stay here tonight?”
He heard the slight hesitation in your voice before you expressed your request. Raising up his neck and face was a burning heat, his breathing coming out shallow as he didn’t quite know what to say.
Being a cautious man, he thought of every possible outcome.
It was prohibited, so he should decline. But he would hate himself forever if he simply sent you away because of the school’s outdated rules — he also knew he would regret it until his heart stopped beating.
So having you stay here was the only reasonable outcome — but then what? He supposed he would end up sleeping on the floor, like the gentleman he was. He would at least never assume he could sleep next to you, and he would not be as vulgar to ask.
He cleared his throat before speaking. “Of course. I’ll just-“
“Kento,” you said his name again, just as soft as always.
“Yeah?”
“There’s room for both of us on the bed.”
He had to swallow the massive lump that felt as if it was suffocating him. It at least stopped any further words to come out of his mouth. He slowly raised from the chair, floorboards creaking as he stepped over.
With his eyes locked on you, seemingly so calm with your eyes closed, he positioned himself beside you so he was facing you.
Goosebumps prickled up his arm when he felt your breath fan against his face, and he wondered how you managed to keep it in such an even rhythm. Didn’t this closeness send lightning through your body like it did for him, temptation threatening the act of finally crossing the line?
There was a crease between your eyebrows that seemed unintentional, like the events of the day had just planted themselves on your face and even your calm breathing couldn’t ease it. Against his better judgment, Kento’s urges steered his thumb towards your face, not reflecting over his action before he had ran his skin across the crinkle to smoothen the tension.
Shit, he thought to himself, certain you would open your mouth to tell him off — instead he saw how there had been a slight strain to your shoulders that was now released.
While he let his eyes roam your face, taking in every breathtaking aspect of your beauty, he felt a small spark of fear fill him at how right it all felt — lying next to you, so close he could feel the warmth radiate from your skin, his soft touch being able to bring rest to your body, the mere idea that he could envelop you in his arms if he wanted to.
“I’m happy you’re here with me,” your voice startled him a little, as he had assumed you had already fallen into the oblivion of sleep. “I’d never be able to navigate this world without you.”
“That’s not true.” Your eyes opened to meet his, catching his breath immediately, so stunningly deep he always felt himself fall into them. “You’ve always been the one looking out for me.”
You chuckled a little at that, endless memories of the two of you throughout childhood. “I guess in one way. But you’ve always kept me afloat.”
“You give yourself too little credit.” He had to stop himself from letting his fingers graze your cheek in the most tender caress. “You would have done just fine on your own.”
A small smile of flattery dared dance on your lips. “But I don’t want to.” It felt like a confession, unspoken feelings hidden within those words, begging for him to be able to deduce the true meaning. “Thinking of a life where you’re not at my side scares me.”
“Let’s never find out what that life is like.”
Kento would later eat those words.
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Haibara’s death hit Kento the hardest. Numerous evenings were spent in the eerie silence of his cold dorm. When he cried, you held him. When he was trying to distract himself by reading, you sat and watched him, keeping him company. When he went the entire night without sparing you the slightest gaze, you knew you had overstayed your welcome, leaving him to be alone for a night.
“I don’t think I will continue to be a sorcerer.”
That was the first thing he said that hadn’t been a complete necessity, and it sent a spike of ice down your spine, not daring to understand his statement right away.
“Oh,” was the only thing you could think of to respond that did not entertain his idea.
His eyes met yours, the eye contact more intense than it had been for days, realising just how much you had missed having his kind eyes directed at you. Seemed like he felt it too, as the smallest gasp slipped out of him.
“I mean it.”
The tears instantly burned in your eyes, blinking them away before they had the chance to come running. “That's what scares me,” your voice betrayed you as the usual confidence came out cracked.
He didn’t push it any further, reading you as an open book — you knew he was telling the truth, but refused to acknowledge it. It was like if you ignored his statement, it would somehow end differently.
Luckily, after that night, Kento started to somewhat fall back to his old self. His smile started to return, it was easier to hold a conversation with him, which you obviously appreciated — however, he had planted a fear in you that had taken your body hostage.
You abandoned any sense of boundaries entirely, hanging onto his arm at all times. It was only when you were physically aware of his frame you were able to cling onto a string of peace. Feeling his body glued at your side only served as a confirmation that he was still here, and as long as you held on he couldn’t go anywhere. He couldn’t leave.
And whenever you had to pry yourself off of him to tend to your responsibilities where he wasn’t assigned, you were constantly living in a state of anxiety. Foot tapping against the floor, picking at your skin, petrified you would end up returning to see his room stripped of any signs of life — that he would have finally done the thing he said he would do, and part with the Jujutsu world.
Every time you returned, the sweetest sensation of relief washed over you, tears welling up immediately when he always stood ready to greet you. “Hey you,” he said softly, pulling you into his arms, holding you tight until he could physically feel your body let go of the stress that had tainted every muscle, every joint, for the entire time you had been separated.
But graduation day came and time was up.
You had held onto hope he would eventually change his mind, that it was only the initial grief that had weighed heavy on his conscience. But you were now standing in his bare room, everything packed into cardboard boxes. Of course it had only been a childish dream to think he would stay — there was no changing his mind.
“I really am sorry.” He was so earnest, like always, making it hard to be mad at him even though you so desperately wanted to. He genuinely had so much compassion, his hands stroking your arms in an attempt to calm the bouncing of your shoulders that followed the frantic rhythm of your sobs.
“I just don’t understand why?” You continued to sob, sentence coming out in sad intervals as you heaved for air.
“This isn’t right. It’s not right of them to expect us to be okay with watching our partners lay down their lives like this.”
You wanted so badly to scream at him, bang your fists against his chest before clasping onto his shirt so he wouldn’t even have the opportunity to leave. You knew it was unwarranted for you to feel that way, but the fact that he was following through with his stunt felt like a betrayal.
“You said we weren’t going to find out what this would be like.”
His heart shattered. Looking into your doe eyes, tainted red with sorrow as the sentence laced with innocence sent him back to every fragile evening throughout your journey together he had spent comforting you. How many tears he had dried, happily so? But this time it was his doing — him who brought you to a state of despair so grave you couldn’t breathe, and he knew this time he wouldn’t be able to comfort you.
Waiting for his next words were torture, time at a standstill watching his mouth open and close while he constructed the sentence in his mind. Though useless, the glimmer of hope refused to die out, begging for his surrender — you’re right, I’ll stay.
“I’m sorry.”
Another one of your earth shattering sobs came flying past your lips, stabbing him right in the heart that had only ever beaten for you.
Comforting you would always be second nature to him, which had his hands cup your face and pulling it closer to rest his forehead against yours. He wished, begged, for his touch to bring you comfort one last time before he left. But your body continued to shake. “It’ll be okay,” he tried to reassure you, spoken in a faint whisper. Repeating it over and over, waiting for his small affirmations to take affect — they never did.
Ask me to come with you.
Those six words played like a broken record in your mind, knowing you would pack your bags and abandon this god forsaken life at the drop of a hat if he just asked you to.
Come with me.
The request laid restless at the tip of his tongue, fighting every voice in him that was screaming at him to be selfish. But he couldn’t with you, never with you.
Unlike him, you had a purpose in this world — you were able to see the good in what you did, and he would never be able to forgive himself if he ripped you away from it no matter how much he wanted to.
There seemed like there was no limit to your tears. Shuddering against his touch, he sensed your body didn’t have much energy left to stand. He ended up leading the two of you to his bed, stripped bare to just the mattress, duvet folded at the end. Without any words spoken, you laid down in his arms, burying your face in his chest while the sobs continued to tumble out uncontrollably.
His strong arms locked around you, holding you as close to him as humanly possible, letting the illusion of him never disappearing from you live on for another night.
Eventually your sobs calmed down, only happening sporadically. The shaking stopped and he felt your breathing even out, telling him you had finally been able to let sleep consume you.
He couldn’t stop himself — placing a chaste kiss at the crown of your head, mumbling quiet and secret apologies before sleep caught him too.
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According to Gojo, his departure had been quick. He hadn’t said much, just given them all a nod before grabbing his bags and disappearing.
You had decided against seeing him off. The two of you had said your goodbyes the night before in the solemn of his empty dorm. It had been wet, heartbreaking and nothing short of painful, but at least it had been private between the two of you. No one knew how your tears had soaked his shirt, or how your fists had created crinkles in the fabric while desperately holding onto him. No one knew how you had cried until the exhaustion knocked you out in his arms, so scared to wake up to face the new reality where Kento wasn’t at your immediate side like he had been since you were kids.
You couldn’t really remember what it was like to not have him there. Even before you had grown close, he had always lingered, the one thing in your life that had stayed consistent throughout it all was him.
The next weeks were absolutely torture, having to feed the people surrounding you endless lies of “I’m fine, really.” You were really just trying to prevent yourself from letting the reality set in properly. If that can of worms were to open again, you had no clue when or how you would be able to stop it. Last time you had still been able to seek some comfort against his warmth, only able to stop it because you practically passed out.
Not a single moment passed where he didn’t cross your mind, small things reminding you of him. All your little routines — for days you forgot to grab lunch because you were so used to him bringing it to you. For days you ended up with one towel too many, because you always brought an extra for him after training. Mundane things you had always taken for granted, gone in an instant.
Despite feeling a little betrayed, you couldn’t really blame him either. So you reached deep within yourself to try and stay positive. It wasn’t like he was gone gone, he had just retreated to a normal life.
You stayed in touch, sending regular updates about how you were getting by in the world of curses without him — lying of course. When he had left, he had taken some of the purpose you had in it all with him. But you didn’t want him to worry. You told him how you eventually started teaching at Jujutsu High alongside Gojo, and it felt nice to be responsible for the next generation of sorcerers.
And at first you received regular updates in return. He got himself a quaint little apartment that fitted his needs perfectly. You even got a few blurry photos of how he had tried to decorate it so it would feel more homely — you had cried when you received those.
You never called each other though. It seemed like there was a mutual understanding that it would be too unbearable to hear the voice of the other.
After a while, the updates slowly came to a halt. You kept on sending yours however, only for that little checkmark to appear and confirm he had read it. But no answer — you cried then too.
Had you said something or done something to make him cut the contact? You never managed to wrap your head around why he stopped showing you his new life.
Kento had never wanted to stop sending the messages — on the contrary. If anything, he had to stop himself from not telling you about every single minute of his day, even the most meaningless things, just as an excuse to talk to you.
But one day, thanks to a white haired little birdie, all consuming guilt had struck him. “She doesn’t say it, but she’s miserable.”
He held his breath, his fingers unintentionally clenching tighter around his phone. “She is?” His voice came out faint. He heard Gojo let out a deep sigh at the other end of the line.
“She tries. Very hard. I stopped asking a long time ago because she kept lying anyways.”
“Oh.” Kento had been a fool, believing your words when he had read them on his screen. When he hadn’t been able to hear the tone behind the statements, he had been able to convince himself they were genuine. But of course you were lying — he was, after all.
“But I think she really enjoys teaching,” Gojo said after a moment of sad silence, trying to fill the conversation with some optimism. “And the kids love her.”
“Yes, I can imagine as much,” a small smile appearing on his lips, picturing the scene of you with the young students.
“Look, I have to run, she’s waving me over. Should I-“
“No!” Kento rushed to cut him off. “No, don’t say anything. Please.”
He made up his mind then and there — he was not going to cause you any more pain. So he had to let you go entirely to allow you to move on. The way he was selfishly clinging onto the crumps you gave him seemed to do you no good, if the image Gojo painted was accurate.
So he stopped. Even though his fingers urged to reach out, he fought against it, for you.
You, however, could not hinder how your finger pressed the send button every now and then. The updates definitely became less frequent when he went radio silent, but you did not have the strength to stop. If you stopped… there was a fear he would never come back.
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Kento was supposed to share his life with you.
He had believed so ever since he was a little kid, ogling you from afar before he even knew your name. The way you made his heart jump and pulse quicken had to be his body’s way of telling him you were meant to be with him, quickly growing addicted, dependent, on the reactions you created in him without trying.
But he had made the drastic choice of abandoning that feeling, convinced the alternative did you harm — and the mere concept of being the reason you even felt the faintest glimmer of discomfort was something he could not live with.
He welcomed the misery, a small price to pay for the belief that you were doing better now. He also thought he had good reason to believe that was the case.
The updates you sent him were few and far between these days, but it did paint a picture. You were rarely in the photos, but there was an energy present in the moments eternalised that seemed pleasant and positive. He imagined you had found your role, your place in life where you would get to fulfil your potential. And whether or not he was there was irrelevant.
He convinced himself his own insecurities were a reality to make it easier to bear.
Ever since childhood, you had been the headstrong one. The independent one. The brave one. It always lingered in the back of his mind whenever he just observed you in different scenarios — that it really didn’t matter if he was there or not, forever just an accessory to your life. He even feared he was holding you back somehow.
So it was only reasonable to think time away from him would have provided you with the playing field to develop into the best version of yourself… right?
Years went by and Kento’s pain didn’t ease. He missed you — every single day. And he kept living in that constant state of torture for you, until the fantasy shattered.
It was just another day, nothing out of the ordinary. Kento was going about his drowsy routines of stopping by the same bakery he did every morning before work. However today, he was nearly tackled by two kids, a boy and a girl about the age of six, once he entered the building.
“I’m so sorry, sir,” a grown woman rushed over to apologise as she brought the children back to their little table.
“It’s no problem,” he mumbled monotonously, eyes following them as they scattered back to their seats, where another woman sat.
A wave of nostalgia crashed over him, feeling like he had the privilege of looking back in time. The little boy resembled a young Kento Nanami, his blonde locks neatly styled, chubby, red cheeks and a baby-blue button up shirt — a rather mature attire for a six year old.
And the boy had his eyes glued on his friend, a girl the same age, very evidently the more outgoing out of the two. She was rambling enthusiastically, arms waving all over the place as he told her story down to the smallest detail, exhibiting the same spark you always had.
The boy kept a glare of pure awe as he followed her every word, seen so clearly in his eyes how much he admired her. And Kento knew how this story would continue — that night the boy would lay in his bed, the biggest smile on his face, unable to fall asleep as the day spent with his friend would play on repeat in his mind — much like Kento had spent countless nights when he was young.
It wasn’t until the girl behind the counter called for him he was able to pull his attention away from the all too familiar scene.
So polite, a sweet smile on her face as she served him the same thing he ordered every day. And then she asked how he was sleeping. It fascinated him, how this girl didn’t owe him anything, and had her own worries — like the little curse sat on her shoulder — and still showed concern for him.
He had noticed the curse before, but purposely never done anything about it. It wasn’t a proper threat, and it would be more of a hustle for him to deal with the reactions of ridding her of it than let it be. But now, having the innocent scene a few feet from him remind him of you, he quickly began to consider doing the girl a favour.
You would have exorcised it — without hesitation.
Not just that, you would probably give him crap for not exorcising it immediately. It wouldn't cost him anything to do it, so why wouldn’t he?
“Could you take a step forward, please?” Kento asked politely, the girl a little confused but doing as he said. He had your voice in the back of his mind while he easily exorcised the curse with one swift motion, the strain in her shoulder easing immediately.
“Huh? It’s lighter!” She exclaimed, rolling her arm around at the newfound relief.
“If anything still feels off, please go to the hospital,” he said with a small nod. He grabbed his food and headed for the exit, sparing one last glance at the table where the two kids sat, still deep in the conversation.
His lungs let out a deep, involuntary breath when the realisation dawned on him — he could no longer stay away, caving to his desires.
Maybe enough time had passed for it not to be considered selfish? If you had in fact found your place where you were content and comfortable, and meeting him again would be causal for you?
The questions kept circulating his mind as he pulled out his phone to dial the one person who would be able to set it all up at the blink of an eye.
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His whole world stopped when he saw you, and he wondered how he had ever thought it a good idea to leave you — how could he possibly have survived all that time without you?
It was almost painful how his heart was clawing at the inside of his chest, desperate to be with you. It wasn’t until he felt the overwhelming pounding he realised his heart had not beat properly for the years he had spent away — meant to beat in unison with yours. His skin was turning cold as ice and the only way for it to regain its warmth was your touch, your soft embrace.
Kento hadn’t known what to expect when he saw you again, but he had certainly thought he would have more rational and coherent thoughts. Right now, it was all scrambling in his head and the only thing that appeared clearly in his mind was you, framed in the halo of your aura, taking his breath as way just as easily as when he was six.
With his body going numb, he observed you interact with Gojo and two kids he assumed were your students. You looked calm, a small smile decorating the plump line of your lips — it wasn’t as radiant as it used to be. In fact, your entire energy just seemed a little off. Maybe you had just gotten home from a mission, or it has been a hectic day in general.
Truth was not so mundane. You wished it was as simple as a long and tiring day. That would mean you could just jump in bed and sleep it off, ready to face a new day tomorrow.
But the day Kento left the jujutsu society behind, he unintentionally stole your spark with him.
You could never hate him for it though, he didn’t know. He only did what he felt like he needed to do, and you would be a terrible friend to stand in the way of that. But you had no control over how your mind decided to react.
Absence makes the heart grow fonder was something you had always heard growing up, and you had never really understood it — until faced with the situation yourself.
Not a day went by where you didn’t think of Kento. You thought of how his grin always grew slowly when watching you, eventually revealing the shy smile lines across his cheeks. The ghost of his touch, which was always dancing the line of appropriate or not, never leaving your mind. Sometimes you still felt the imprint of his arms around you.
“Don’t you guys listen to him for a second,” you chuckled, the tiniest hint of frustration in your voice. “Gojo doesn’t qualify as a responsible adult.”
His jaw fell to the ground in fake offence, eyebrows narrowing at the innocent laughs spilling from the students. “You were never this mean when we were younger,” he whined, folding his arms across his chest, looking like a stubborn child.
“That’s what you think,” you teased, nudging an elbow into his side. “You should have heard the things we said about you behind closed doors.”
His big hand came piercing through the air, pressing it against your face, gently shoving you away from the conversation. A lighthearted, but genuine, little laugh escaped you. “We don’t want to hear what you and your little boyfriend did in private,” Gojo rolled his eyes, pretending to gag at the made up memories.
Annoying as he was, Gojo had a way to actually make you forget the pain of it all for a few seconds. You would never tell him, obviously, that he managed to put the storm inside your head on hold for a second — he would rub it in your face every chance he got.
“Wait, senpai had a boyfriend when she attended here?” One of the students interjected and suddenly the mood of the conversation shifted. Gojo’s hand fell from your face before he shot you an apologetic smile.
For the most part, it was never a problem whenever Kento was brought up in the company of Gojo and Shoko. Everything was out in the open between the three of you, shared history taking away some of the pain. But whenever it slipped outside your little trio, it quickly became a sore topic.
Mouth opening and closing, trying to find the words to answer without having to give an explanation. Luckily, a painfully familiar voice called your name behind you, instantly sending a shiver down your spine.
All of you turned towards the voice, and you couldn’t help but let out an audible gasp at the beautiful image of your other half standing in front of you after all these years.
Your heart’s instinct steered your body, quickly stepping away from the group and latching your arms around Kento’s neck, burying your face in the crook of his neck. He didn’t hesitate to close his strong arms around your frame, fitting right into the slots they used to fill. His familiar scent filled your senses, memories flooding back in an instant.
“Huh, speak of the devil,” Gojo mumbled.
“Him? That was her boyfriend?”
Gojo quickly snapped out of it. “Let’s give them some privacy, shall we,” and started rushing away the nosy teens.
Kento’s grip loosened and you pulled away, but neither of you dared let your hands leave each other. Your own hands ended up cupping his face, forcing him to keep his eyes on you until it hit you he was actually with you again — he let his rest on your waist, feeling the restlessness in him by how strongly his palms were pressing against you.
He was here. He was actually here.
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There was a deafening silence filling the space of your office. You could feel it in the tension that both of you wanted to say something, but there was an unspoken pressure of saying the right thing.
So you let your eyes roam him, taking in the differences in his appearance.
He was gorgeous, same subtle handsomeness as he had always possessed, but a new confidence displaying it. Everything about him was more defined, sharp features drawing attention to his face, his muscles filling his shirt in a way they never did before.
“So, you and Gojo seem to work well together,” he swallowed, causing embarrassment to flush your face when he pulled you from your blatant admiring.
“We’ve found a rhythm that works for us, I suppose,” you shrugged.
He shifted awkwardly in his seat, arms flexing as he crossed them in front of him. “That’s good. I’m glad.” His tone of his short statements seemed to imply otherwise.
“He’s surprisingly good at his job,” you laughed, “the kids like him.”
“Who would have thought,” there was a pull of his lips, like he tried to smile but it didn’t succeed entirely.
“Not me, that’s for sure. I don’t know, he just meets them were their at.” You really wanted to stop rambling about Gojo. It was so clearly just a desperate way for you to replace the quiet that plagued you without touching the elephant in the room. “Don’t get me wrong, they find him insufferable, but I think they secretly really like him. Much like the rest of us.”
“Sounds about right.”
You squinted at him, slowly growing somewhat antsy. “You’re not jealous of Gojo, are you?”
Of course you still saw right through him. He, who usually managed to hide his true feelings, would never be able to conceal them from you. And he was jealous, petrified that he had made the biggest mistake of his life and Gojo had ended up taking the place that was supposed to be for him only.
“Is there something to be jealous of?”
“You tell me.”
The tension was thick, nearly suffocating, years of yearning and pining fuelling the energy. The reunion only served as a dangerous spark that threatened to set the fuse ablaze at any second.
Why couldn’t he take the first step? He was the one who had showed up all of a sudden, and he still hadn’t given you any explanation. He owed you that much, right? But he kept letting his restlessness control him, one leg bouncing quietly against the floor, hearing how the cogs in his mind were turning.
“Why are you here?”
Your words were soft, but Kento knew you well enough to know the true feelings that lingered in the question.
“I’m coming back.”
“You’re coming back?” You weren’t able to withhold the bite that was slowly making its way into your tone.
“Only if you’re comfortable with it.”
“Don’t do that,” your voice threatened to crack. “I don’t want that responsibility.”
He sighed deeply, unfolding his arms to rest his elbows on his spread knees. “That wasn’t my intention. I’m sorry.”
Always so polite. Always acknowledging his faults before they had the opportunity to grow. Always so damn righteous.
“What I meant to say is it looks like you’ve really managed to establish yourself here, and I wouldn’t want to come in and cause any discomfort by intruding what is essentially your space.”
The sound that escaped you next was a mixture between a flat laugh and a scoff, not entirely appreciating the way he was behaving. “Have we been apart so long you can’t talk to me like I’m your best friend?”
That had him look up at you, meeting your eyes instantly. You were sad, visible on your entire demeanour — maybe not to the average person looking, but he saw, still able to read you like an open book.
“Hope not,” he tried to smile, lips formed into a tight line that exposed how nervous he really was. His attention shifted to look at his fists folded together, words resting on his tongue, he just wanted to be sure it came out right. “I’ve missed you.” Silence. “There hasn’t been a day where you haven’t crossed my mind.”
“Sounds familiar.” There was no hiding the flush crawling up his neck and colouring the tips of his ears red at the sound of your confession.
“It was the thought of you that finally convinced me.”
“Why now?”
“Because enough time should have passed for you to thrive without me.”
“If that’s the case, you’ll have to keep waiting.”
You had him gagged, no clue how to respond. For some reason, he had refused to believe you were still hung up on him the way he was. There weren’t any reason for you to hold onto the idea of him — yet you had, for dear life.
Abruptly you stood up from your chair, hands running through your hair in frustration, trying to make sense of his sudden visit.
You stopped in your pacing, back faced him and hands on your hips — then he saw your shoulders begin to shake, followed by stifled sobs. These were the situations he always used to know what to do, moving on autopilot to bring you the comfort you needed.
Did his hands remember how to soothe you? Did his voice still know how to form the right words to say? Did his presence still know how to envelope you until you felt happy again? There was only one way to find out.
Quickly stepping over to you, his hands hovered over your shoulders for a second in fear. He swallowed his selfishness and let them land to settle the bouncing, leaning his head forward to rest it against the back of yours, the smell of your shampoo surrounding him.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered and it only seemed like his apology opened the valve, no longer able to choke your sobs. Your hands left your hips to cover your face, muffling the sadness tumbling out in one stream.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he continued to mutter, head moving to press it to the side of your face. One hand traveled across your collarbone, the other around your waist to pull you as close to him as possible, determined to hold you there until he was absolutely certain you were okay.
He would stand there the whole night if he needed to.
Slowly but surely, your sobs came to a stop, your trembling eventually easing against his body. But he didn’t loosen his grip, not until he felt you shift in his arms to face him.
Cry painted cheeks, delicate red rim around your eyes, glossy irises that stared right into the deepest parts of him that only you had access to.
Everything started to fall back into place, his big hand cupping your cheek as he stroked your hair out of your face. He let his eyes dart delicately across your face, taking in every single detail.
Then he let his longing get the best of him, thumb graciously tracing your bottom lip turned swollen from when you tried to swallow your sobs.
There was slight hesitation while he leaned forward, never having experienced time moving as slow as you waited for his lips to connect with yours. First, he let his nose brush against yours, testing the waters.
Please.
You felt his breath.
Don’t make me wait any longer.
Sparks.
Soft lips pressed against yours, moving tenderly in unison that sent intense sparks through your body from head to toe. The moment easily surpassed any of the fantasies you’d had of kissing him.
Needy fingers traveled up his broad chest before hooking your arms around his neck, pulling him closer — it still didn’t feel close enough.
Kento poured everything he had always wanted to say into the kiss — and he knew you understood. If he had learned anything from everything you had been through together, it was he could always trust you were able to understand him completely, even without anything being said.
When you pulled away you found yourself breathless. Meeting his eyes again, unexpected shyness you weren’t used to experience with Kento had you hide your face in his chest.
The roles had reversed, his warm chuckle serving as a comforting blanket. Oh, how you had missed that melody.
“Took you long enough,” you mumbled, hoping the teasing would have your normal confidence return.
His finger found your chin to tilt your head up, capturing your gaze. “Yeah, I should have done it ages ago.”
The previous sadness still lingered, and it was evident you still had a lot to talk about. But right now it was nice to just wallow in his presence again. It was way overdue, feeling like it should have been like this since forever.
“I really am sorry.”
“I think I can find it in myself to forgive you.” Your innocent jab was received with a dashing smile, tingles spreading throughout your limbs at the sight.
“Hope so, sweetheart,” he breathed quietly before he leaned in again.
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They sat staring at each other, Kento with a raised eyebrow while a grumpy Gojo was positioned on the couch opposite him, legs and arms crossed in annoyance.
“You used to be nice.”
Kento scoffed at his colleague’s childish behaviour. “I still am, you’re just upset you’re not getting it your way.”
“But why?” Gojo cried dramatically.
“Why? What do you mean why? Because it’s not your wedding.”
“Were you always this boring?”
“Most definitely.”
“Will you guys please shut up?” You interrupted, unable to ignore them anymore. You had desperately tried to block them out as you were doing some paperwork you should have done ages ago.
“He started it!” Gojo pointed at Kento, which only had him roll his eyes.
“You know what,” you sighed as you gathered your stuff and raised from behind the desk. “It’s with a heavy heart I leave you, but I need to get this done by the end of the day.” You stopped behind Kento, placing a hand on his shoulder.
“Sorry, honey,” he said genuinely as he gazed up at you lovingly.
“I am not asking for much-“ Gojo continued to argue before you interrupted him.
“Will you pay for it?”
“Is that all it’ll take?” He beamed, and you nodded. “Of course! Done! How much do you need?”
“You’re too lenient when it comes to him,” Kento sighed.
“It’s not the craziest thing he could request. He’ll get his endless supply of sweets, and you won’t have to listen to his obnoxious nagging anymore.”
“I’m sitting right here.” Both you and Kento ignored him.
“I really have to get this work done though,” you sighed, hand squeezing his shoulder.
“See you at home?” His loving smile had you lean down to press your lips tenderly against his.
“See you at home.”
“I’ll have dinner ready.”
“God, I love you.”
Then he flashed you that smile — the smile which was reserved solely as a response whenever you said those three words he used to dream of hearing from you.
It was funny really, how after everything things would turn out exactly how he as always wanted them to. Despite the hopelessness he had felt and all the pain you had endured — both together and apart — would eventually lead up to the happy ending he had dreamed of since the young age of five.
He knew he would do it all over again, in every universe, if it ensured this outcome.
“I love you too.”
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tags @sad-darksoul @toadtoru
an anon, i am so sorry if this ended up longer than you wanted it. idk what happened, bc it just kept on snowballing <3 however, i am very touched you wanted me to do this request. warms my heart. hope it turned out okay mwah also, if you've read my satoru childhood friends to lovers fic and see any similarities, no you don't comments and reblogs is much appreciated
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©hiraethwrote 2024 . all rights reserved. reposting, translating and otherwise plagarisim is prohibited
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sttm99 · 2 months ago
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Content warnings: swearing, making out, unedited
Prohero!Dynamight falls for the live wedding painter at his best friend's wedding
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Dynamight is explosive in more ways than just his quirk.
When you see him in person for the first time whilst doing the live painting for Red Riot's wedding ceremony, he's all you see for a moment or two, and you're thankful you didn't mess up a chord at the sight of him.
His presence is overwhelming, taking up the space around him, sucking people in whilst simultaneously pushing them away.
He walks down the aisle with another pro-hero bridesmaid on his side before taking his place on the dais with the rest of the groomsmen, meters away from where you're standing before your easel.
Dynamight stands next to Chargebolt, his signature frown softer than usual as he watches his friend get married. You stare at him, eyes tracing the contours of his face as best as you can despite the distance as you work to capture his face in the painting.
He's a handsome man, you think, as you press quick strokes to his hair. When you look up again, he's staring at you, and the eye contact has your stomach dropping in a way that's not entirely unpleasant.
He looks away immediately Red Riot comes up, lightly patting his best friend's back in encouragement.
Once the music starts and the bride enters the hall, Dynamight is the last thing on your mind as you work to capture her. As you do so, you fail to notice the way he goes back to looking at you.
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You set your things down at the corner of the large reception hall, beginning the second painting of the evening.
You smile softly at guests as they come to admire your work, trying your best to capture the bride's extravagant reception dress as she prances around the place gleefully.
You're focused as your work on her skirt piece, squinting as you paint across it delicately, so much so you don't notice the presence just behind you.
"You're good at this shit." You hear suddenly behind you. The voice is startling enough to draw your focus away, but not so much that you mess it up.
You glance behind you at the tall blonde male, fairly shocked at his presence. You'd assumed he wasn't the type for social interactions judging by how cold and aloof he was to most of the other guests.
"It is my job," You say as you turn back to your painting.
"I know." He walks forward, so he's beside you now, his gaze on the scene on you've done so far. "But this-" He pauses, glances at you then back ay the easel, "This is really fucking good. And you're fast. I saw the one you did at the ceremony."
You hum, a nice warmth coursing through you at the praise.
"Thank you, Dynamight." You turn to give him a small smile. Then you hold out your brush to him, "You wanna try?"
His eyes widen a bit and he quickly shakes his head. "Nah. I'll do a shit job, I promise you."
You laugh softly at how hesitant he was, but you could see the way he was eyeing the brush. "It's fine. You'll just make some strokes on the gown." You insist. "I'll guide you."
He pauses, looking straight at you as he mulls it over.
"Fine. Gimme that." He huffs as he takes the brush from you and stands closer, holding it over the board.
"Okay, so..." You hold his enclosed palm and bring the brush closer to the painting, making light strokes on the white gown of the bride.
Your eyes are on the painting, but his are on you, your face as you focus, your hand as it holds his, and a warmth begins to pool at his stomach.
"See?" You murmur with a small smile as you look back at him. Your cheeks redden just slightly when you see how he's already looking at you.
"Um... are you-"
"You should call me Bakugo," He says as he looks away from you and back at the painting. His voice is lower than before, and his disposition is less stiff.
"Oh." You just say quietly as he hands the brush back to you, unsure of what to say next.
"Now's when you tell me your name in return." He's quieter, and he's refusing to look at you.
You assume it's to hide the red you can see dusting his face.
"YN." You say to him as you take the brush back, a small smile on your face. He nods once and repeats it under his breath in a voice that almost makes you squirm.
"Is that me?" He asks quietly as he squints at a figure in one corner.
You look at it and nod. "Yep."
He hums, "And that's Soy Sauce face." He points at another figure you're sure is Cellophane. "Then Earphone Jack and the idiot. Deku, Half and Half-"
He goes on listing pro heroes by strangely accurate but offensive nicknames, and you can't help but find it incredibly funny.
He spends most of the reception with you as you paint, ignoring the weird way people look at him as he refuses to leave your side, even going as far as bringing you a plate of cake after it's been cut, and some other foods and drinks.
As the night ends and the guests leave, he's the last by your side before the newlyweds and their closer friends and family come over to see how far you've gone.
"It looks practically done," Mina says in awe.
You smile as you pack the rest of your things. "Almost. I'll have to do some finishing touches at the studio first, though. You should get them back in about a week."
They hum as they take some more looks.
Kirishima looks at Bakugo as he stands right next to your side. "You gonna follow her to the studio too?" He snorts at his friend, "Seeing as you couldn't leave her side, you might as well."
"Shut the fuck up, Shitty Hair."
You laugh as you pack up the painting, "Anyways, I hope you guys had fun, and congratulations on getting married." You say as you begin to leave.
"I'll help you," Bakugo grumbles as he carries your large box of paints and brushes.
The look he gives you lets you know that he's not taking 'no' for an answer, which is how you found yourself outside the hall with him next to the car.
"Thank you, Bakugo, for the help." You say as you look up at him with a grin.
He stares you down with his regularly furrowed brows, his hands stuffed in his pocket as he thinks of what to say to keep you longer.
"Would it be inappropriate if I asked for your number?" He's so close you can smell him and it makes you feel fuzzy.
You grin. "Not at all."
He hands you his phone for you to out your number in, and as he watches you do it with your hands slightly stained with paint, he can't help but want to kiss you.
Would that be inappropriate? He's sure it will. You two just met. But still, he can't help but want to try.
Bakugo stuffs his phone back into his pockets the moment you hand it back, and he steps closer to you. His palms are sweaty, and he's trying to inconspicuously wipe them as they're stuffed in his trouser pockets.
"Would it also be inappropriate if I kissed you here?" His voice is husky as he asks and you can see the blush on his face.
He's so much different than the media paints him out to be, more awkward than mean, more aloof than nasty. But you think that maybe this persona, this Bakugo, is just for you.
You smile up at him shyly, your hands tightly clasped behind your back as you nod.
He doesn't hold your face because his palms are too sweaty. He doesn't think he can get them dry enough on time because he wants to kiss you now.
He leans forward, and you do too, and when his mouth meets yours, you're lightheaded. His lips are soft as he kisses you, and he moves them in a way that shows experience.
You smile into it, satisfied and still wanting more, and before you know it, his palms are on your waist, pulling you flush against his body and pressing his lips harder against your own.
When you pull away, his eyes are half lidded, but you can see how blown his pupils are.
"Good night, Bakugo." You whisper to him.
He pecks your cheek once before letting go, "Good night."
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coco-loco-nut · 5 months ago
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Father’s Day
pairing: max verstappen x reader
summary: max is dating an international star
a/n: i literally had this idea last night and had to write a short blurb, i promise i am writing other stuff tho 🫶
masterlist
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y/username happy father’s day, daddy. i love you and your big…
maxverstappen1 anything to share with me?
y/username not pregnant, just letting everyone know how turned on you get me
maxverstappen1 love you too, schat
user12 anyone else not getting it, like she is so hot and he is 😬
y/username you know that one barbie scene with the rock? that’s my maxie. also if you think he’s ugly, that’s fine, more of him for me 😍
user98 Y/N BARBIE FAN CONFIRMED
y/username priority 1: old barbie movies priority 2: max
user3 ON THE MAIN?
user33 PR monster got her, I really wanna know what she was about to say
recordlabel we don’t… we actually want bleach for our eyes
redbullracing we will share our bleach if you send us demos of her next album 👀
charlesleclerc Go on, finish the sentence, I dare you.
y/username his big heart, ego, ass, trophy case, therapy bill from childhood trauma, i could keep going on but i don’t want to make you feel emasculated
user62 okay, but like how did he bag her?
y/username he has incredible rizz, and look at him🤤
“Happy Father’s Day, Maxie,” you grin as Max lays on you lap, looking up at you with his beautiful blue eyes.
“You aren’t pregnant, Schat,” he laughs, your fingertips gently scratching his scalp.
“We could change that, get some practice in for after the wedding?” you watch his eyes widen as he quickly sits up.
“Practice makes perfect, why don’t we practice now?” Max suggests, picking you up and carrying you to the bedroom.
Your wedding is small, only some close friends and family in attendance. The ceremony takes place in your backyard, no reception beyond a dinner afterwards.
Despite both your respective fame levels, you didn’t want anyone knowing of the marriage. Fans still thought you were dating, so when you got a positive pregnancy test, you were extra careful.
Max was grateful that you had a private recording studio in the house, for when you needed to drop the album. You didn’t mean to choose the surprise drop date to be at the end of your pregnancy, nor Father’s Day, but life worked in funny ways.
“Happy Father’s Day, Maxie,” you softly say, handing the little bundle off to Max.
“This is the best present, he’s beautiful,” Max hold back tears as he holds his son close to his chest.
“I’m not sure if I will be able to top this next year,” you laugh a little, your tiredness making an apparent after a long labor.
“You should take a nap, I’ll be okay with him,” Max runs a hand though your sweaty hair. To him, you’ve never looked more perfect.
“I have one thing to do first,” you yawn, pulling out your phone. Max slides into the hospital bed beside you, you immediately nestle into him, his warmth enveloping you.
instagram
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y/username SURPRISE! midnight rain is out now! I hope you enjoy this as much as I did writing it for the past four years. There is so much in my life that happened, so enjoy my journey through heartbreak, love, and growth. I want to quickly thank Max and my team for making this possible 💙
user1 AHHH this is so good, but didn’t she and Max break up? Why is she thanking him?
user3 dude, i think they are married, did you listen to everything else
user4 yeah, she had some songs about marriage, but she hasn’t been at any races since last year
user10 did y’all see the statement saying there won’t be a tour for the album?? crying in the club
user11 Okay, but Robin?? secret child??
maxverstappen1 endlessly proud of you, schatje
user5 we get it bro, she wrote Dress and The Alchemy about you
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maxverstappen1 our little robin decided to hatch 💙
danielricciardo So happy for you and Y/n, mate. Big day for the Verstappen family, can’t wait to hold the little guy!
y/username he will love his Uncle Danny
y/username he’s perfect, just like his daddy
redbullracing what a gift for father’s day! sending our gift to you 💙
user42 guys, y/n’s song credits changed…
user21 OMG MAX AND Y/N ARE MARRIED AND THEY HAVE A KID???
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gilverrwrites · 5 months ago
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Fake Dating tropes with (some of) the birds and the bats. Ft. Babs, Bruce, Dick, Duke, Jason, Kate, and Tim.
GN!Reader, ≈200-250 words each CWs: None graphic mentions of sex, none-graphic injuries, none -graphic mentions of drugs, intentionally minipulative behaviours.🩷
Barbara
The two of you weren’t exactly not dating. Attached at the hip, making goo-goo eyes in person and inappropriate comments over the comms line when apart; it was obvious to anyone with eyes or ears that something was going on there, you just hadn’t put a name on it yet. It’s something the two of you had made plans to nail down and discuss during your sort of but not really a date-date tonight.
But you had only gone and got yourself shot during what should have been a simple trip to the bank. It wasn’t life-threatening, but you’d been rushed off in an ambulance, you’d need surgery, a lot of meds, and months, if not years of physio to get your arms back into shape.
Barbara didn’t know that at the time though, she’d been panic-stricken from the moment she found out. Emotions getting the better of her, brain running at 100 miles a minute as she rushed to the hospital.
“Partners and family only.” The nurse had told her. And without hesitation, she’d responded: “I am their partner.”
Her lie paid off, allowing her access to your bedside, as well as a full update on your status. There wasn’t another face in any universe you would have rather seen upon waking up from surgery. Now you just had to keep up the appearance of being a married couple until you were discharged, maybe longer.
Bruce
It’s a well-organised and thoroughly thought-out publicity stunt. Bruce needed someone new on his playboy roster, and you needed the media to circulate literally anything other than the less-than-flattering leaks that had been sold to them without your consent.
All you had to do was follow the itinerary. A couple of soft launch social media pics, a few whispers to the looser-lipped socialites of your circles, and some ‘private’ candid photo ops of the two of you dating:
Snuggling under the shade of an oak tree in Gotham Park, wearing matching caps and sunglasses that do little to hide your identities as you read a shared copy of Romeo and Juliet together.
Sitting in his car, in the parking lot of Big Belly Burger, munching on an unseemly large order of burgers and fries together. Nobody questions why the previously tinted windows of Bruce’s car are now clear.
Intimately and provocatively embracing, tastefully half nude on the balcony of your uptown apartment. The press didn’t need to know that you’re actually renting an Airbnb for the weekend, for exactly this purpose, and nothing more.
Everything was carefully planned, right down to the T for maximum impact and minimal effort. The only thing that hadn’t been accounted for was one, or both of you catching feelings in the time you’d spent together.
Dick
He’s never been able to say no to you, you know it, he knows it. So when you ask him in an act of desperation to be your fake-boyfriend for your ex’s wedding he’s quick to inform you that this is the dumbest idea he’s ever heard, and that he’s 110% on board.
He takes you shopping for matching outfits, picks you up on the day in Bruce’s flashiest car, suprises you with something pretty, compliments you loudly and romantically at every chance and won’t take his hands off you all the way through the ceremony. He's attentive and outwardly passionate. Not only is he playing the role of the world's best-ever (fake-)boyfriend, he’s making sure everyone in the vicinity knows you’re a (fake) couple.
It’s during the reception when that funny feeling really starts to settle in. The hairs on edge, butterflies in your belly feeling. Maybe it’s the happy, romantic atmosphere, the soppy music, the way his hands sit so perfectly on your hips as he sways you round and around on the dance floor. Maybe it’s the way he’s looking at you with those mesmeric blue eyes but damn if you don’t want to kiss him, right here, right now.
Duke
It was a stupid idea, and his family would give him so much shit if when they found out, but you’d argued that “we’ll never know if it might actually work unless we try” and that had sold him on giving it a go. Even if he thought about calling it off at every turn.
What was the stupid plan, and why was it necessary? Well, your ex was dating his crush, and you’d figured fake-dating might redirect their attention to the two of you. And if not, no harm done, right?
Big harm done. Over the next few months, Duke and yourself had spent most of your free time in close proximity. Sharing clothes, food, and ‘plan-related’ intimate details about each other. When you weren’t together you were glued to your phone, awaiting his texts, refreshing his socials.
Somewhere amongst all the dinner dates, and ‘strictly-business’ public making out sessions, your plan worked; his crush took notice, how could they not, Duke was perfect.
Your ex did not. Not that you cared, you’d moved on, to someone who was about to become equally as unavailable.
Jason
He was trying to infiltrate an infamous drug ring so he could take it down from the inside and needed someone in the know who could double as arm candy to sell his story. You’d already been trying to get your foot in the door for weeks now, but lacked enough street cred for them to take a chance on you. It only made sense that you would join forces.
For a while it’s fun, hanging off his arm, letting his hands roam your body freely, loud-whispering all the things you wanted to do to him for anyone to hear. You really enjoyed pretending to be his devilish trophy partner. You enjoyed the nights where it wasn’t pretend even more. But all good things must come to an end.
He served his purpose of getting you where you needed to be, but now he was getting a little too close to building a compelling case against the ring, you couldn’t let that happen, you had much bigger plans for it.
What? You’d promised information, not loyalty.
Kate
You’re both socialites with fairly large internet followings who run in the same circles. Your relationship has always been that of friendly acquaintances until a photographer snaps an innocuous photo of you both entering the bathroom at the same time and the media goes crazy.
Despite putting out very clear, separate statements, clarifying that there is nothing going on, your respective followers grab the ball and sprint with it until you both innocently start to play along. Leaving flirty comments on each other selfies, acting appalled when the other is rumoured to be dating someone else, tagging each other in scenic snaps that could be considered romantic: graffiti hearts, colourful sunsets, starry skies from the candlelit table of a wine bar.
It’s completely harmless of course, it’s all a joke, until it’s not. Until you actually find yourself flustered by her comments, really wishing she was sharing your dinners, until you brace yourself and send the first DM.
Tim
He really is the whole package. Handsome, hardworking, dedicated, polite, and as smart as he is rich. You can understand why your grandma was so excited, calling you from across the country to confirm if you were the mystery person spotted out and about with Bruce Wayne’s second youngest. You hadn’t lied when you’d said yes, you’d just neglected to tell her that you were only friends. You figured it would get her off your back about finding a nice boy for a while. It kind of felt nice, talking to somebody other than yourself about your big fat crush on him and in your defence, you hadn’t expected things to escalate so quickly.
One minute she’s bragging about her grandchild’s new boyfriend to the ladies in her swim aerobics class, the next she’s booked a flight to come and visit so she can meet him.
If you’d known what she was planning you would have confessed, but she’d already forked out the cash for her plane ticket so you swallowed your pride and begged Tim to help. He wouldn’t even have to do much, just spend the weekend nodding and smiling at an old woman’s stories and then he could reap the rewards of your eternal gratitude. You’d promised 6 months of undisputed lording it over you and a lifetime of freshly made cold brew.
Smile and nod, that’s all you expect, but apparently, that was too easy. Tim just had to make what was already an embarrassing situation, a million times worse. ‘Perfect grandson-in-law’, your ass.
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helaintoloki · 3 months ago
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the other Hargreeves siblings being absolutely teary-eyed on the day of y/n and Five’s wedding. they like to think of her as an adopted member of the family, because she’s gone through so much with them, gotten so close to death in multiple occasions while trying to save them. after everything, they never thought to see her live out the happy life she deserve, much less getting married to Five.
a/n: i am a sucker for found family tropes and wedding pieces so this was fun for me to write
warnings: none i think ? mostly fluff
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Your stomach feels as if it’s tied into a million knots, and you can’t bring yourself to even touch the plate of fruit Klaus had fetched for you to nibble on as you got ready for the big day. Allison works diligently to perfect your look despite her insistence that you should have just let her hire a professional to get the job done, but you were adamant about keeping everything as simple as possible. Neither you nor Five wanted some big extravagant mess when it came to your ceremony, and if it had been up to you both you would have just settled for a courthouse marriage, but his family wouldn’t have it. You were finally becoming an official Hargreeves, and they deemed it necessary to celebrate with a proper wedding and reception despite the fact that there really would only be about ten guests at most.
You met Five in the apocalyptic ruins of the world while scavenging for food. Despite everyone you knew and cared about perishing in the gale of fire that blanketed the earth, you had miraculously survived. Call it pure luck for being at the right place at the right time, but you had been searching for a flashlight in your underground basement when the moon had been struck, and the reinforced steel structure of the room had kept you from suffering the same fate as everyone around you.
Neither of you trusted each other in the beginning, but you both were smart enough to realize that sticking together was necessary for your survival, and so you put aside your differences to travel the apocalyptic wasteland together. That’s not to say there weren’t times when you got on each others nerves or wanted to strangle him with your bare hands, but with time your partnership evolved into an actual friendship, and perhaps it could have evolved into more if not for the constant distractions that arose during your fight for survival.
Allison accidentally poking your eye with a mascara wand interrupts your moment of reminiscing, and she merely gives you an apologetic smile when you shoot her a look of annoyance in return.
“I told you we should have hired a professional,” she reminds you matter of factly only for you to lightly swat her hand away.
“And I told you I wanted to go down to the courthouse and pick up a sheet cake at the grocery store,” you counter with a raised brow. Sensing defeat, Allison relents with a small sigh and takes a step back to look at her masterpiece.
“You’re right, I’m sorry. It’s just our family doesn’t get to do these sorts of things very often, and it’s not every day I get a new sister.”
Your shoulders slump guilty at her admission, and you find yourself now feeling less combative against her than you initially were. Though you mentally are in your 50’s and no longer see a need to have a big wedding to marry a man you’ve known for basically your whole life, you still physically look like a young bride, so it’s only natural for Allison and the rest of Five’s siblings to want to treat you as such. From what Five has told you along with the stories that have been recounted in your presence, their lives have always been less than normal. You of all people can relate to that- growing up in an apocalypse, becoming a glorified secretary for a time-ordinance bureau while your only friend is out on assignments, risking your life to save the world, ending multiple apocalypses. The list could go on forever. They’re only trying to experience normal family milestones, so who are you to get in the way of that.
“No, I’m sorry,” you relent with a remorseful sigh. “I know you’re just trying to be nice, and I’m grateful for how quickly you and your siblings have welcomed me into the family despite how unconventional this all is. I really appreciate it.”
“Good, I’m glad you see it my way,” Allison teases playfully before finishing up the final touches on her masterpiece.
“Knock, knock,” Klaus singsongs from outside your dressing room before letting himself in. Proudly holding up the plastic wrap bag from its hanger, he announces, “Here I am with the dress, and as promised, nothing happened to it under my watch.”
“Thank you, Klaus,” you smile gratefully only for him to return the gesture with an affectionate pinch of your cheek.
“No need to thank me, sweetheart. I’m just so excited to finally have a little sister!”
“You know I’m technically older than you right?” You retort with a raised brow only for him to press a finger to your lips.
“Shh, don’t ruin this for me,” he gently corrects you before pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. You don’t miss the way his eyes begin to water at the sight of you with your hair and makeup done, but you’re kind enough not to point it out. Klaus had been the easiest of Five’s siblings to warm up to, always treating you like one of his own and roping you into his mischief despite your fiancé’s protests. The Seance couldn’t even count on one hand how many times you had been there to lend a shoulder for him to cry on when his addiction became too much or offer a supportive hand when his siblings had been less than eager to do so. He adored you, and he could nearly burst with pride at finally being able to call himself your brother.
“Alright, we have thirty minutes left to get you into that dress and down that isle,” Allison announces with a determined clap of her hands before snatching the dress from Klaus. “Are you ready to officially become Mrs. Hargreeves?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” you announce with a resigned sigh before immediately being pulled every which way by the two siblings to finish your ensamble.
You can’t wait to get this over with.
~~~
“You nervous?” Viktor whispers with a gentle nudge to Five’s side. Quiet chatter drifts through the air as the handful of guests that are present make conversation to pass the time before the ceremony begins. Neither of you exactly have big families; Five has only ever had his siblings, and your family isn’t exactly supportive of your choice of groom. It’s an intimate affair, but you both prefer it that way.
“Hardly,” he scoffs indignantly, though his need to readjust his tie for the millionth time says otherwise. Five knows that this probably should have happened sooner and promoting you from his partner to his wife has been long overdue. He was honestly surprised you had said yes when he’d finally bit the bullet and asked the question. He loved you, cared for you in a way he never thought possible and in a way that honestly wasn’t quite like him. But you were different, and he hadn’t risked it all trying to end multiple apocalypses just to not marry you once the world was finally safe.
“I’m glad you’re happy, we all are,” his brother notes with a kind smile. “She’s good for you, and she’ll be a good addition to the family.”
Five can’t argue with that. It honestly pains him to think about just how many times you’ve thrown your own life on the line for not just him but his siblings as well. You’ve been there for them even when it wasn’t your responsibility, when they technically weren’t your family yet, even when Five himself wasn’t the best brother to them all. While Five could at times be brash or crude, you were patient and understanding, and this balance helped make their team stronger. You’d make a fine Hargreeves; he wouldn’t be standing here today if that weren’t the case.
Behind the wooden double doors you nervously readjust your veil as you wait for your cue to enter the room. Diego holds your bouquet patiently on your left while Luther fluffs out the skirt of your dress for you on your right. Having no real family present for your big day, you were left without anyone to give you away to your new husband. Diego and Luther had both been eager to throw themselves at the chance to be at your side down the aisle, constantly at each other’s necks arguing over who deserved the right more. Of course, as the bride it was you who got the final say, and the choice couldn’t have been more obvious. You picked them both.
Both men had been put through a lot by your fiancé, from having to carry his drunken form out of a library to dealing with his fits of rage at their inability to meet his deadlines for important tasks, but they had always been kind to you despite the unorthodox nature of your relationship with their brother. Luther had taken several bullets for you before, and Diego hadn’t shied away from being a supportive shoulder to cry on whenever you and Five couldn’t see eye-to-eye. It would feel wrong not to have them both by your side, and they were honored.
“You scared?” Diego questions after noticing your tight grip on his bicep when the music begins. He has to hold back a wince from the way your manicured nails dig into his arm and distracts himself by handing you your bouquet.
“A little,” you answer honestly, harshly swallowing down your nerves when Luther opens the doors for you to walk through.
“You’ve got this,” Diego encourages after pressing a chaste kiss to your temple. “If anyone is brave enough to marry my brother, it’s you.”
“Brave or maybe a little insane,” Luther adds under his breath.
You can’t help the small huff of air that pushes past your lips in response to his quip, but you’re given no time to respond as your soon-to-be brother-in-laws escort you to your awaiting husband.
No one can deny how absolutely breath taking you look in your elegantly simple wedding gown, your smile nervous as you make your way towards Five who looks so handsome in his perfectly tailored suit. All day you’ve wanted nothing more than to see him, but now that you’re here you find yourself full of nerves and anxiety.
Luther and Diego give you away at the end of the isle (not without sternly warning Five to take good care of their new sister), and you finally find yourself face-to-face with the man you’ve loved for years.
“You ready for this?” He whispers under his breath as Viktor begins his officiant speech, subtly reaching for your hand to give it a reassuring squeeze.
“This won’t be the worst thing we’ve done together,” you note cheekily with a shrug as you hide your smile behind your bouquet, and Five can’t argue with that.
Though his siblings have been better at showing their excitement for this day than you or Five combined, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t happy to finally be marrying the boy who had been by your side through thick and thin, good and bad, and life and death. Perhaps your love story was a bit unconventional, but unconventionality is a Hargreeves speciality.
You’re going to fit right in.
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zephyrchama · 6 months ago
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Asmodeus being overly expectant that MC is going to propose to him any day now for no reason.
It’s a quiet evening and the two are lazing around on the bed in Asmodeus’s room. New skin mask pouches have been opened and applied. New issues of each of the Devildom’s most popular fashion magazines lay scattered around.
MC rolls over until they bump into Asmodeus’ thigh and raise their magazine. “Hey, Asmo. What do you think of--” ”Yes.” There is no hesitation. “Yes, I think we should.”
Asmodeus throws down the magazine he was looking at to lean over and pepper MC’s face with kisses. “Let’s get engaged, right now!”
“Oh, okay, cool. I was just wondering what you thought of this top.”
“Oh... It’s kind of tacky. You’re not wearing that to our wedding, right?”
----
It’s dinnertime and, as usual, everyone is gathered around the large dining room table. MC is across the table and several seats down from Asmodeus, with most of his brothers seated between them.
MC’s plate is almost empty. They give the table a once-over look before deciding on a course of action that requires interrupting the current conversation.
“Pardon me, Asmo, will you-”
Asmodeus squeals and kicks his feet. “Yes! A thousand times, yes! Of course I’ll marry you!”
“Wait, no that’s not what--”
“What!?” Mammon shouts, much to the chagrin of Lucifer next to him.
“In your dreams, maybe,” Belphegor quips.
Leviathan looks like he’s about to start crying.
Satan and Beelzebub, sane enough to not jump to conclusions, seem to piece together the situation. Together they work to pass MC a plate of dinner rolls that had been in front of Asmodeus.
“This what you wanted?” Satan asks.
“Yes, I was just asking for these,” MC sighs. Bread will serve nicely to sop up the remaining sauce on their plate. “Thanks.”
Asmodeus responds, “we can serve them at the reception, I think that’s fine.”
Mammon tells him to “get yer head out of the clouds, Asmo, nobody’s marrying you.”
Their mutual glares practically send sparks across the table.
“Pass them back this way,” Beelzebub requests, wanting three more for himself.
----
It’s the middle of the school day. MC pops their head into a classroom. This time they've mentally prepared.
“Asmo, do you wanna-”
"Yes? Yes! I’ll marry you.” As predicted, Asmodeus runs over and winds his arms around MC’s waist. He presses his forehead against theirs and leans them back into a dip. Several students clap. “Proposing to me at school? How brazen.”
“Well, maybe this time I’ll actually think about it, but you have to take me out for lunch first. Deal?”
Asmodeus looks somewhat stunned. He parts his lips and thinks over the proposition while staring into MC’s eyes, searching for any hint of a lie.
“Wait… Really?” He pulls MC back up and takes them by the wrist. “What are you waiting for? Let’s go!”
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kingofbodyrolls · 9 months ago
Text
Say I Do (m) | jjk
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Summary: you and Jungkook tease each other at your wedding reception.
Pairing: jungkook x female reader (no Y/N and unnamed)
AUs: non-idol!au, wedding!au
Genres: smut– like it’s just smut, nothing else 🤣
Rating: mature/explicit/R18 – this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact!
Word count: 5,2k
Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸
Warnings/tag: unprotected sex, exhibitionism, voyeurism, public sex, handjob, oral (female receiving), dirty talk, slightly rough sex, choking, biting, spitting, ass grabbing, impreg kink, degrading names (whore used once).
Author’s note: I made this for my lovely friend Lua (@letjungcoook7)!!!! SURPRISE!!!! I hope you like it! I was inspired to make this because of our chat, and I just want to say that you are so fucking lovely, sweet and kind 💖 I really hope this isn’t too much, but I just had too 🥹 I really wanted to make it dirty, but it ended up being more sweet instead, I’m sorry! I love talking to you and I just wanted to let you know that I adore and treasure you 😘 
Honestly Lua, I just wrote this to tell you how beautiful you are– mind, body and soul. Thank you Lua, I love ya 💜
This is just something very short while I work on ‘My Heart’s Home’. But I hope you like it, and please let me know what you think: my inbox is always open, and I love to hear from you, even a reblog/comment will put a big smile on my face 💜
Also!!! This is written from Jungkook’s POV (well I tried, lol). And normally I don’t describe the reader/MC, but she does have a tiny bit description in this, but I still feel it’s vague enough. But if that isn’t your thing, it’s completely fine 🙂 This is not proofread (because I’m too lazy for that right now).
This has nothing to do with my other fic 'say that again (I dare you)', but if you want to read that I'm not opposed (it's also a jjk fic) ✨
Fancy reading on AO3? 😉 
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Rising gracefully to his feet, Taehyung's infectious enthusiasm fills the room as he declares, “I propose a toast!” His radiant smile sweeps over the myriad of guests you meticulously invited to your wedding—more than a hundred souls sharing in the joy of your love story. 
As he prepares to speak, Jungkook can't help but marvel at the grandeur of the occasion. Despite his personal inclination towards a more intimate celebration, he wouldn't dream of denying you this moment, surrounded by the warmth of friends and family who have come together to witness the union of two hearts.
Despite Taehyung's earnest attempt to capture Jungkook's attention with a throat-clearing preamble, Jungkook finds himself inexplicably entranced elsewhere. Even in the midst of one of his closest friends delivering a heartfelt wedding speech—something he should be wholeheartedly absorbing—but it’s hard. As hard as his dick that you’re palming over his dress pants.
The tantalizing dance of your hand sends ripples of pleasure through him, an intoxicating distraction that eclipses all other thoughts. It's an artful symphony of sensation, each movement crafting a masterpiece of desire within him. The struggle to concentrate on anything else becomes an exhilarating battle. Fuck. 
You, the mischievous enchantress, wield your allure like a potent spell. 
A tantalizing awareness of your own danger courses through your veins, and you wield it with an expert finesse. Every knowing glance, every sly smile, is a calculated move in the game you effortlessly play. You've mastered the art of ensnaring him, wrapping him around your finger with a magnetic force that compels him to dance to your whims. It's a dangerous dance, but he willingly succumbs to the intoxication of your charm, embracing the thrill as much as he cherishes the intoxicating love he feels for you.
What the fuck is Taehyung saying?
Taehyung’s words dissolve into a meaningless buzz, drowned out by the illicit symphony you're orchestrating beneath the table. The audacious zipper sliding down and the tantalizing exploration of your hand over the fabric of his boxer briefs command all of Jungkook's attention.
Profanity trembles on the edge of his tongue, but it's lost in the overwhelming sensation that eclipses any coherent thought. Your stealthy touch renders him blissfully oblivious to everything else unfolding around him.
Suppressing a low, guttural sound, he clenches his teeth, using every ounce of willpower to stifle the moan building in his throat. As desire courses through him like a wildfire, he willingly parts his legs, a silent invitation for you to explore more boldly, granting ample space for the electrifying touch of your hand over the hardened length of his cock.
He marvels at your audacity, finding it both exhilarating and daring that you'd embark on such a provocative escapade during your wedding reception. Yet, deep down, he acknowledges that it's a reflection of the wild spirit that has always defined your relationship. It's a shared affinity for dancing on the edge, reveling in the allure of danger, and delighting in the thrill of engaging in activities that should, by all accounts, remain private. It's a facet of your relationship that has always been magnetic, drawing you both into a world where the risk of being caught only adds to the intoxicating excitement.
In the blink of an eye, your hand deftly maneuvers beneath the fabric of his boxers, sending a shiver down his spine. A hiss escapes his lips as your long, slender fingers confidently envelop his cock. The warmth of your touch is both a balm and an inferno, and he instinctively tilts his head back in the chair, a silent plea for discretion. 
As he surrenders to the delicious sensation, he can't help but cast a furtive glance around, fervently hoping that the clandestine ballet unfolding beneath the table remains a tantalizing secret shared only between you.
Despite the uproarious laughter echoing through the room in response to Taehyung's speech, Jungkook remains oblivious to its contents, ensnared the choreography of your hand beneath the table. 
The mirthful ambiance only fuels his curiosity, surmising that Taehyung must have delivered a punchline or shared a humorous anecdote. Meanwhile, beneath the table's concealment, your hand skillfully traces a tantalizing path along his hardened cock, drawing a hushed hiss from Jungkook's lips. 
With a steely resolve, he masks any trace of emotion, locking his features in a stoic facade and maintaining an impressive silence. His determined effort is not just to conceal the electrifying sensations your actions are evoking, but also to safeguard the clandestine intimacy you both share from the prying eyes of the unsuspecting guests. 
Every fiber of his being is a coiled spring, resisting the urge to yield to the pleasure that threatens to unravel beneath the veneer of his restrained expression. 
As his gaze shifts towards you, he's met with an unexpected sight—there you sit, an image of demure elegance in your exquisite white gown. 
The fabric caresses your curves in all the right places, accentuating the allure of your figure. The daringly low neckline teases a glimpse of the captivating silhouette of your bosom, leaving him momentarily breathless. The off-the-shoulder design unveils a generous expanse of your soft, tender skin, a tantalizing sight that aligns perfectly with his preferences. 
Despite the provocative allure of your attire, your outward appearance betrays no hint of the illicit affair transpiring beneath the table. If he didn't intimately know the secret you were concealing—your hand discreetly exploring the realm beneath his pants—he'd be fooled by the serene facade you present, seemingly absorbed in the captivating rhythm of Taehyung's speech.
In a silent plea of gratitude, Jungkook revels in the fact that the attention of the guests is fixed on Taehyung's speech, sparing him the scrutiny of prying eyes. 
Little do they know, the real spectacle unfolds beneath the table, where your touch becomes an exquisite torment. 
Every movement of your hand is a tantalizing dance, a blend of ecstasy and torture that threatens to unravel him. With a teasing finesse, your soft fingers caress his frenulum, tracing a path towards the depths of pleasure. The deliberate slide over his slit elicits a shiver of pure ecstasy, leaving Jungkook teetering on the precipice of desire that you expertly navigate.
Your hand envelops him, a cocoon of warmth that intensifies with each skillful stroke. The pleasure coursing through him is undeniably exquisite, a testament to the mastery of your touch. Yet, a lingering awareness tugs at the edges of his consciousness—an impending climax that threatens to unravel the careful threads of restraint. The exquisite sensations you evoke compel him to desperately anchor his thoughts, to redirect the intoxicating focus from the captivating dance beneath the table to Taehyung's speech.
The challenge lies not just in resisting the magnetic pull of pleasure but in maintaining a semblance of composure, navigating the delicate balance between the ecstasy you're orchestrating beneath the table and the public façade demanded by the occasion.
“We’ve been friends for so long, how many years is it now, Gguk?” As Taehyung poses the question, a hushed anticipation envelops the room, and all eyes converge on Jungkook. 
Fuck. 
All eyes are on him and he can’t think— he’s mind is clouded with thoughts of you. 
Taehyung– Fuck. How long have they been friends? 
In a sudden stumble of recollection, he breathes out, “17 years,” the weight of the shared history resonating in the room. Yet, the gravity of the moment is unexpectedly intensified as you administer an assertive squeeze around cock. Fuck.
With a chuckle that slices through the tension, Taehyung seamlessly continues his discourse, effortlessly reclaiming the attention of the room and redirecting every wandering gaze back to him. A collective exhale echoes in Jungkook's mind, a silent gratitude for the timely diversion that spares the clandestine spectacle beneath the table from becoming the unwitting center of attention. 
Relentless, you maintain the rhythm on his dick, displaying an unwavering determination that hints at an intention to push him to the brink, right under the unsuspecting gaze of the gathered guests. 
As the divine caress of your hand propels him perilously close to the edge, a surge of urgency overtakes him. Desperate, he turns his face towards you, eyes silently pleading for respite, but your gaze remains steadfastly elsewhere. 
Frustration wells within him, and he attempts to use his hands to guide yours away, only to find your grip tightening in response. The conflicting forces of pleasure and restraint collide within him, his muscles tensing as a hitch in his breath betrays the precarious precipice upon which he teeters.
Leaning in, you bring with you a halo of your natural sweet scent, an intoxicating allure that wraps around him, overwhelming his senses and leaving him slightly dizzy. 
Your lips, soft and plush, delicately find his cheek in what appears to be a tender gesture to the outside world. To the unsuspecting onlookers, it's a simple, sweet kiss on the cheek. 
Little do they know, in that same moment, your daring move involves not just the gentle press of your lips but the subtle exploration of your other hand slipping under his boxers to fondle his balls.
Fucking hell he’s gonna come.
Ecstasy courses through him like a wildfire, an imminent eruption fueled by the intoxicating cocktail of your skillful touch on his balls, warm breath teasing his ear, and the relentless grip on his pulsating desire. The threshold between pleasure and release narrows to a perilous edge, and he finds himself teetering on the brink, held captive by the maddening symphony of sensations you've orchestrated. 
Despite his valiant efforts to remain attentive to his friend's speech, the sheer mastery of your pleasure-inducing touch proves insurmountable. Every deliberate stroke, every strategic squeeze of his balls, propels him further into the abyss of ecstasy. In a moment of surrender, he can no longer contain the torrent of desire, and ropes of his essence surge forth from his throbbing dick. His lips bear the weight of a stifled moan, as you keep stroking him through his orgasm.
Beside him, your chuckle is a symphony of sweetness interwoven with a hint of mischief, a melodic backdrop to the ongoing crescendo of pleasure you expertly administer through his orgasm. 
As he traverses the realm of oversensitivity, a low, guttural grunt escapes him, drawing the curious gaze of Taehyung, engrossed in his ongoing speech. Though momentarily caught in a gaze of questioning inquiry, Taehyung forges ahead, resuming his speech with a peculiar stare, unwittingly oblivious to the spectacle unfolding beside him.
Thank fuck both of your parents aren’t seated right next to you. That would have been utterly mortifying and embarrassing.
With a deliberate finesse, you retract your hand from his crotch, guiding it gracefully over the table, where you nonchalantly employ a napkin to erase any lingering evidence. Seated there, you adopt an innocent facade, a picture of angelic composure that conceals the fact that, mere seconds ago, your hand delved into the forbidden realm beneath his pants. 
With an audible exhale, he reaches for a napkin, hastily attending to the aftermath on his pants. The damage is fortunately minimal, thanks to your deft intervention that efficiently captured most of his release. Smart girl.
But a mischievous spark ignites in his eyes, a silent vow echoing beneath the surface - oh, he's going to get back at you for that, you little minx. 
As the notes of the classic wedding waltz envelop the room, Jungkook marvels at the surreal reality—he gets to call you his wife now. The ethereal glow surrounding you transcends the physical, a radiant aura that has always defined you. Despite your humble protestations about your own beauty, he's captivated by the undeniable truth: you've always been, and continue to be, an enchanting vision. Countless times you've confessed to feeling otherwise, but in his eyes, you're a masterpiece. In this moment, as you dance together, you're not just a part of his world; you are his entire universe.
Gazing into the pools of your sweet, doe-like eyes, their exquisite almond shape captivates him, holding his attention in an unbreakable trance. He contemplates the nuances of your beauty, from the enchanting curvature of your slightly upturned nose to the endearing moments when he can't resist playfully poking it during your teasing exchanges. Every inch of you, in his eyes, is a masterpiece, and he pledges to vocalize his admiration every day, a ritual aimed at etching your beauty into your own consciousness. 
He dreams that with each affirming word, he'll weave a tapestry of self-love around you, until the day you see yourself as he does—undeniably, breathtakingly beautiful.
As you dance, your eyes ablaze with an unmistakable love, he luxuriates in the intensity of your gaze. A daring current of desire propels his hand, gliding with deliberate intent down your body until it boldly claims your ass. 
Uninhibited, he seizes it with audacious confidence, the bold move oblivious to the watchful eyes surrounding you. A soft, mischievous squeeze elicits a sweet chuckle from you, a harmonious note in the symphony of shared amusement that reverberates through the party, as the crowd collectively succumbs to the captivating allure of your uninhibited dance.
As the soft strains of the music envelop you both in a waltz, your heads draw nearer, the enchanting melody echoing the tender dance of your hearts. With the song nearing its end, he seizes the moment, leaning in intimately close to your ear. The hushed promise that escapes his lips carries a tantalizing undercurrent, his warm breath grazing your skin as he vows, “I'm going to get you back for earlier, babe.”
He senses the subtle shiver coursing through you as his touch lingers, a silent testament to the shared electricity between you. As the final notes of the song fade into the applause and cheers of the crowd, seizing the perfect moment, he leans in, embracing you in a sweet and passionate kiss. 
As the rhythm of a more upbeat song invigorates the dance floor, he seizes the opportunity to whisk you away from the lively crowd. Amidst the pulsating beats and the vivacious laughter of the guests, he guides you outside the building, their merriment gradually fading into the background.
In the crisp night air, he asserts a sudden dominance, pressing you against the sturdy wall. His gaze, infused with an unmistakable hunger and need, locks onto your beautiful eyes, creating a magnetic tension that reverberates between you. 
“You are a little minx, you know that?” His words, not laced with anger but rather a dangerous undercurrent of arousal, hang in the charged air. Your chuckle, a sweet symphony that further stirs the tempest within him, prompts a hiss as he succumbs to the magnetic pull, diving fervently into the captivating abyss of your mouth.
The kiss intensifies, a collision of passion that is both hard and rough, fueled by an undeniable need. In the urgency of the moment, he can't afford to wait, the impatience palpable in every fervent press of lips. 
You envelop him in the embrace of your arms, fingers intertwining at the nape of his neck, while your gaze rises to meet his. In the depths of his eyes, once warm brown orbs now transformed into pools of near-black intensity, a reflection of the potent arousal coursing through his veins. 
Your hand embarks on a daring journey, descending to the front of his pants once more, and the response is instantaneous – hardness reignites, a testament to the insatiable flame you kindle within him. Desire for you pulses like a constant current, an almost permanent state of arousal that defies logical explanation. Whatever enchantment you cast upon him, it's an irresistible force that weaves a tantalizing spell, leaving him perpetually captivated by the mystique of your touch.
Breaking away from the embrace of your soft lips, he wears a smirk laden with both warning and allure. “You're playing with fire, babe,” he remarks, the subtle edge in his voice echoing the intoxicating dance of danger and desire that swirls between you.
In a hushed whisper that flutters against your ear, he breathes, “You've been a naughty girl.” 
The words, laden with an undercurrent of sultry authority, send a shiver down your spine, awakening a cascade of tingles that traverse the landscape of your entire body. 
Descending to the delicate expanse of your neck, he peppers it with soft, almost teasing kisses, each touch a prelude to the symphony of sensations. Then, in an abrupt shift from gentle caresses, he bites down, coaxing from you a loud moan that resonates through the air—an intoxicating sound that echoes in the depths of his desire, a melody he'll never tire of hearing. 
Continuing his explorative journey, he ventures further south, his lips descending to the curve of your breasts. With a deliberate tenderness, he places a kiss atop the soft expanse of your tender tits.
Gracefully sinking to his knees, he gazes up at you with a mischievous smirk, the air thick with a heady mixture of desire and anticipation. His tongue darts out, grazing his lips in a provocative dance of anticipation, signaling the imminent exploration of pleasures yet to unfold. 
With an assertive grip, he seizes the front of your dress, drawing it away in a swift, purposeful motion. Despite the abundance of fabric, he deftly bunches it up with ease. “Hold your dress, please,” he directs, handing you the end of the gathered fabric. 
“Hmm. Nice lace stockings, and that girdle—what are you doing to me?” he murmurs, his voice a tantalizing blend of desire and fascination. His gaze lingers appreciatively on your beautiful thighs encased in nude stockings adorned with lace at the top, fastened to a concealed girdle on your waist.
His eyes widen with a mix of surprise and arousal as they land on your wet and glistening pussy, the evidence of desire trickling down your thigh. “Oh my god. You're not wearing panties?” he breathes out, his voice carrying the weight of both revelation and anticipation. A subtle lick of his lips betrays the intensity of his reaction.
A playful chuckle escapes your lips as you hover above him, and without a moment's hesitation, he immerses himself in the intoxicating warmth of your desire. His lips eagerly find their destination, tracing a decadent path from the delicate folds to the pulsating essence of your clit. 
The sensation ripples through your body, igniting a shiver that becomes an involuntary response to the electrifying dance between tongues, pleasure, and the shared yearning that binds you together.
He embarks on a tantalizing journey of tongue and suction, starting with teasing caresses that send tremors of anticipation through your body. His hands, strong and purposeful, find purchase on your thighs, holding you in a firm grip as he orchestrates a symphony of pleasure with his skillful tongue, creating an intoxicating dance that blurs the lines between sensation and desire.
A throaty moan escapes your lips as his nose delicately brushes against your pulsating cl*t, his tongue delving as deep as its voracious hunger allows. The exquisite sensation of his exploration elicits an involuntary clenching around him, a testament to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you.
Your thighs, unable to withstand the intensity, succumb to a tremor, trembling beneath the intoxicating caress of pleasure that consumes you.
His dexterous fingers ascend to your throbbing clit, and with a skillful touch, he sets in motion a rapid dance of pleasure, causing your entire body to quiver with newfound intensity. The quickened rhythm of your breath becomes a symphony of desire, a telltale sign for him that you're teetering on the precipice of ecstasy.
Eager to reciprocate the pleasure you bestowed upon him within the confines of the reception, he fervently laps at your tender folds. Simultaneously, his fingers engage in a deft dance around your throbbing clit, orchestrating a symphony of sensations that echoes the pulsating rhythm of desire between you.
With the harmonious fusion of his skilled tongue and nimble fingers, he orchestrates the unraveling of your senses. As ecstasy courses through you, your body convulses in euphoria, your walls clenching around his tongue, and the pulsating rhythm of your clit intensifying under the spell of his fingers. 
Waves of pleasure surge through you, causing your body to quake, and in the throes of ecstasy, you release a high-pitched, strained moan that bears his name—an intimate symphony of pleasure that lingers in the air.
Breathless and overwhelmed, you gasp out his name, a plea woven into the words, “Fuck, Jungkook. I can't stand up anymore.” As he gracefully withdraws from your core, his gaze rises to meet yours, locking in a shared moment of intensity.
He chuckles, the rich timbre of his laughter lingering in the charged air. “I know, babe. Do you want me to fuck you against the wall?”
You draw in a sharp breath, and he keenly observes the subtle clench of your hand, the fabric of the dress tightly gathered within your grasp. 
“Fuck yeah,” An unbridled affirmation escapes your lips, a primal declaration of desire. As he rises to his feet, a surge of urgency propels him to capture your mouth in a hungry kiss. The taste of your own release lingers on his lips, creating an intimate communion of shared pleasure that binds you together in the aftermath of passion.
As he engulfs you in a fervent kiss, the symphony of desire playing out between you, his hands deftly navigate the zipper of his dress pants. With a purposeful movement, he unveils his throbbing cock, stroking it in rhythmic cadence. 
His hands, driven by a primal urgency, seek out the contours of your a*s with a possessive intent. “Jump up, babe,” he commands, the resonance of his voice weaving a spell of anticipation. As you obediently jump, he effortlessly lifts you, cocooning you against the wall. 
In a brief struggle against the bulk of your dress, both of you grapple with the fabric, pushing it away from the front of your entwined bodies. A shared chuckle hangs in the air, a lighthearted interlude in the midst of fervor. But as the fabric yields to your efforts, Jungkook seizes the opportunity, moving in with an insatiable hunger to bite at your neck once more. 
With a sultry whisper, he breathes, “I'm gonna fuck a baby into you, would you like that, hmm?” 
The words, pregnant with promise, glide against your ear, and the responsive clench of your legs around his waist speaks volumes. A knowing chuckle escapes him as you endeavor to pull him even closer, the shared desire resonating between you in the charged space.
“Please,” your plea, a desperate yet fervent entreaty, escapes your lips, a poignant melody of desire that resonates in the charged air. The subtle smirk that graces his lips is both a testament to your undeniable need for him and an acknowledgment of the power he holds over your cravings.
With a deliberate touch, he locates his throbbing cock with one hand and skillfully aligns it with your dripping entrance. The tantalizing dance begins as he teases your slick folds with the head of his pulsating dick, creating an electrifying friction that amplifies the anticipation between you two. 
“Gguk, please,” you plead with a mixture of desire and frustration, your voice echoing the urgent need for him to bridge the gap between anticipation and fulfillment. However, he remains steadfast, skillfully teasing your slick folds without granting the entry your body craves. 
With a desperate plea escaping your lips once more, he finally relents. The moment stretches with anticipation before he forcefully thrusts his thick cock into your eager pussy. The collision is met with an audible impact as your back forcefully meets the wall.
He forgoes the customary pause for adjustment, intuitively aware that you relish the exquisite stretch when he enters you so abruptly. Without hesitation, he plunges deep into your core, reaching the furthest recesses, his thick length grazing against your cervix. 
“You’re so big, the stretch feels so good!” 
You gasp breathlessly against his body, overwhelmed by the sheer size of him. The intoxicating stretch sends waves of pleasure coursing through you, a visceral reminder of the intensity between you two. Determined to fully immerse yourself in the sensation, you pant against him, actively striving to ride the wave of pleasure, desperate to fuck yourself on him, the relentless pursuit of ecstasy evident in every ardent movement.
He establishes a relentless rhythm, driving into you with a force that resonates against the unyielding wall of the building. The symphony of your combined panting echoes in the air, a melodic accompaniment to the unbridled passion unfolding. Jungkook, captivated by the primal symphony, savors every delightful noise escaping your lips—a harmonious blend of desire and surrender, heightening the intensity of the fervent connection shared between you.
As he thrusts into you, each powerful motion striking your cervix, he elevates the intensity by trailing one hand up to your neck. With a gentle yet possessive touch, he wraps his fingers around your throat.
He knows you like it dirty and rough, and fuck he does too. 
His taunting words, laced with a playful yet provocative tone, cut through the charged air. “Did you enjoy the little game with your fingers down my pants while Tae was making his speech?” The rhetorical question hangs between you, a teasing challenge that elicits a subtle clenching reaction around him. 
In a sultry revelation, he whispers, “'Next to your bridesmaid and your parents. You naughty girl.” The hand steadying against the wall takes a firm hold of your ass, squeezing the soft flesh with deliberate intent. A resonant moan of pleasure escapes your lips, harmonizing with the rhythmic cadence of his thrusts as he skillfully targets your sweet spot. 
“So naughty,” he breathes, punctuating each fervent thrust with a rhythmic intensity that sends shivers down your spine. “You enjoy getting off in front of your friends, huh?” His words, infused with a seductive blend of desire and provocation, become a tantalizing soundtrack to the relentless grind of his dick into you.
“And getting me off too? Whore,” he seethes into your ear, the heated accusation leaving a scorching trail of desire in its wake. Your response, a shiver against his body, fuels the intensity of the moment. 
As he continues to fuck you with an unrestrained force, your breasts bounce in a mesmerizing rhythm that captivates him. So fucking perfect.
“Stick your tongue out,” he commands, his eyes intently fixed on you as you obediently roll out your tongue, anticipating the act you relish. The charged moment lingers, pregnant with expectation. With a deliberate move, he spits on your waiting tongue, and you, the embodiment of submission, dutifully swallow it.
Damn it, he knows he won't last much longer if he continues to be entranced by the rhythmic bounce of your enticing breasts—they possess an almost hypnotic allure over him. And that tongue of yours, oh, it's pure seduction. 
“And you can't even wait until we reach our hotel suite to be fucked. So fucking needy, and I love it,” he declares, a blend of admiration and desire lacing his words. The deliberate clench of his fingers around your throat follows, a subtle yet potent assertion of control. His gaze remains fixed on your eyes, watching with a predatory intensity as they dilate even more.
As he tightens his grip, the sensation of his fingers constricting around your throat elicits a primal response—your walls clenching around his cock. The synchronized symphony of pleasure and control intertwines, and a guttural groan escapes him, an audible testament to the ecstasy coursing through his veins. 
Driven by an insatiable desire, he redoubles his efforts to fuck you even deeper.
“My filthy wife,” he pants into your ear, the possessive term dripping with desire, a declaration that ignites a primal response within you. The sultry proclamation elicits a moan of his name from your lips, a vocal affirmation of the all-encompassing pleasure coursing through your body. His acute awareness of your nearing climax manifests in the rhythmic clenching around his dick, a tangible sign of the intimate dance between you two.
“Fuck, Gguk. I'm so close again. Fuck!” you pant fervently against the curve of his neck, the words laced with desperation and desire. He senses the mounting intensity in your voice, a symphony of passion reaching its crescendo. 
Yet, he's attuned to the nuances, recognizing the subtle signs that your body, though on the brink of ecstasy, bears the weight of fatigue, having navigated the day in those tantalizing heels. 
“You crave an audience, don't you? Want people to watch you, to hear you,” he moans into your ear, the words a sultry declaration that fans the flames of desire between you two. The acknowledgment of your shared exhibitionist desires ignites a fresh surge of pleasure, prompting an instinctive clench around him.
“Then scream my name, let everyone in the damn party know how damn good I'm fucking you,” he commands, the intensity of his voice sending shivers down your spine. As your walls clench with even greater fervor, pulsating around his dick, a wave of your liquid envelops him, transforming the intimate connection into a slippery dance of shared pleasure.
You unleash his name with a primal scream, the sheer force of your ecstasy reverberating through the open air outside. Your head drops against the curve of his neck, seeking refuge in the haven of his embrace as the waves of pleasure cascade over you.
He relentlessly thrusts his dick into you, the urgency palpable as he seeks his own release. “I'm gonna give you a baby, just like we've always dreamed of.”
“Ahhh, fuck, yes!” The exclamation bursts from your lips, a little too loud, as an uncontrollable surge of pleasure courses through you. Your teeth instinctively seek refuge on his shoulder, sinking into the firm flesh in an unbridled act of both ecstasy and restraint.
“Fuck, babe, I'm gonna come,” he confesses with a guttural moan, each subsequent thrust punctuated with the desperation of impending release. His rhythm stumbles, an involuntary response to the intensity building within him as he hurtles towards the precipice of his orgasm. And then it hits him.
The rhythmic bounce of your tits in his face, the soft and sweet scent that envelops him, and the melodic cadence of your voice—all converge to cast a spell on his senses. In the midst of your lovely moans, he succumbs to the intoxicating blend of sensations, unleashing a torrent of white-hot semen deep inside your spent pussy. 
Panting and gasping, you both struggle for precious breaths, bodies slick with the sheen of sweat acquired in the throes of passion. Amidst the shared exhaustion, a mutual chuckle reverberates between you, an intimate exchange that encapsulates the postcoital atmosphere.
With your head nestled against his, you gaze into the depth of his eyes and confess, “I love you, Gukkie.” The words, tender and raw, bridge the physical intimacy you've just shared with the emotional vulnerability of a heartfelt declaration.
“I love you too. Every damn inch of you, you're so beautiful,” he pants, a declaration infused with both desire and admiration. As he smiles at you, the post-passion glow accentuates the sincerity in his eyes, turning the exchange into a powerful affirmation.
He'll never tire of professing his boundless love and adoration for you, vowing to weave those sentiments into the fabric of each passing day. The promise to remind you, with unwavering devotion, echoes in his commitment to articulate his love every damn day.
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Please let me know if you liked it with a comment, reblog, and ask or whatever 💜
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daistea · 6 months ago
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marriage hcs with mithrun and kabru? im a huge sucker for domestic stuff lol
Ya!!
2,500 words
Dungeon Meshi Spoilers ‼️❗️
no tw I don’t think
ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ
♡︎ Mithrun ♡︎
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Mithrun’s proposal isn’t big. He just slips the ring on your finger and tells you it’s happening.
He wouldn’t care what the wedding is like, just tell him where to be and when. Though if you insist on his opinion he’ll tell you that something simple would be most comfortable.
I wonder if there’s like a formal outfit for the Canaries… Or elven wedding garbs. Idk!
If you have a reception and you force him to dance, then you get to see Mithrun’s nobility training in effect! He can waltz!
He ends up throwing the bouquet because reasons but he just straight up launches it into Pattadol’s face.
Anyway, onto home life. Mithrun actually cleans a lot, just out of habit. So you don’t have a messy husband, yay!
But he doesn’t care much about decorating his surroundings. You’re the one who fixes up the house how you like it.
He teleports around the house but he’s very careful to always know where you are. He often sneaks up on you, not on purpose at first. After a while he starts sneaking up on you because your reactions are funny.
Every good couple finds ways to torment each other. It keeps the romance alive.
Mithrun puts his cold fingers and feet on you in bed. He does it with a straight face but you see the evil intent in his eye…
You reorganize on a regular basis, and sometimes move all the furniture two inches to the left. You do this when he’s gone and honestly he doesn’t notice until he starts running into things without explanation.
Mithrun is a very touchy person with you. And only with you. Nobody else.
He wraps his arms around you from behind a lot. He kisses your neck. He buries his face in your hair. And he’ll do it anywhere, this man does not care who sees.
People new to Melini hear about the fearsome, dangerous, cold Captain of the Canaries. And when they hear he has a spouse they’re like ??oh??
Then they see him cuddling you. His face is blank but he’s holding you tight, closing his eyes as he rests his head on yours. And they wonder if this is the fearsome guy they heard about.
Marriage looks good on Mithrun. He never thought he’d get married, ever. But he craves your company, he wants you around all the time, he wants every inch of your attention. Your affectionate smiles should be only for him. And he has no problem telling you that you’re his and your attention should be on him.
I mean, you’re one of the few desires he has. He’s going to soak up every bit of you, inject you in his bloodstream, graft you into the fabric of his soul. He’s not going to say that, but it’s true.
My guilty pleasure is making Mithrun into an obsessive partner, but that’s honestly just my headcanon/preference and not something I would insist is canon to his character.
Obsessive as in following you around like a lost puppy, always finding some way to touch you, overwhelming attraction, getting a bit irritable when you’re away, being very possessive, etc. But then again, that’s just my preference talking.
At night, he holds you like he thinks you’re about to disappear.
You cast sleep spells to help him rest at night or else he’ll be awake for hours and hours until his body gives out.
Mithrun likes being the little spoon, even if you’re smaller than him. But he also likes being the big spoon sometimes. #switch
You think cooking together will be sweet and fun, right? Wrong. It’s horrible. The first time you try to cook together you just keep bumping into each other, getting in the way, picking up things and setting them down somewhere and forgetting where that was. It gets a bit tense.
You don’t cook together again.
Mithrun actually likes cooking and will probably want to take turns making the food. Except his food is crap at first. Total shit. He’ll learn.
When Mithrun is irritated or mad at you gives you the silent treatment. He’s grumpy. He’ll mutter under his breath a little. Just love on him until he softens up. Wrap your arms around him from behind and harass him a bit.
Speaking of harassment, Mithrun does that all the time. You’ve got some paperwork or whatever that you’re working on? Well he wants your attention. Right now. And he’s going to get it.
You just see him walk into the room with that look in his eye, his pupils focused, his mouth set in a line. And you groan because you know he’s about to do everything in his power to distract you.
That means flopping down like a rag doll in your lap. Or kissing your neck, biting a bit. His hands are going places. He won’t outright say he wants attention, but it’s clear he wants it.
Then the moment you actually give him attention, he gets up and wanders away.
He steals the blankets at night, but fortunately does not spread out much.
I feel like Mithrun would have a bunch of weird hobbies. He’s just throwing stuff at the wall and seeing what sticks. There’s pottery, of course. But that’s kind of messy. He makes really dumb bowls too. Idk, they’re just dumb looking bowls.
He takes up gardening. But one time he didn’t realize he was getting too hot and he kinda collapsed face first into the squash patch. He tasted dirt that day. It was fine.
He tried knitting! He makes a horrible little stuffed pig and sends it to Milsiril. She doesn’t respond with a thank you letter or anything. She hides it in a box in her attic so she doesn’t have to look at it.
Mithrun isn’t concerned with being good at these things, he’s just doing them to do them. King behavior
I think you’d both eventually adopt a pet. And by adopt I mean Mithrun found this dog digging through the trash and brought it home.
You share each other’s clothes a lot. It doesn’t matter how small or big you are, Mithrun is pulling on your sweater and drowning in the scent of you. He also likes seeing you in his clothes! I imagine he wears tall-man clothes half the time tbh, idk I just like Mithrun in baggy flowy tunics that are rolled up at the arms… But elf clothes physically fit him better because he’s so smol.
Generally, your life is peaceful. You might go with him on monster surveys, or help at the noodle shop. You’re a team, you move in sync with each other, able to tell what the other is thinking just from a look.
Often around other people, you and Mithrun silently communicate through passing glances.
He never takes his ring off. Never. He gets grumpy if you take yours off.
Mithrun’s brother likes to visit. I headcanon that his brother has a family by now (UNCLE MITHRUN!!!) and they all love you. (One night he’s putting his niece or nephew to bed and they’re like ‘uncle Mithrun, the hat man doesn’t like you’ and he’s like ..okay. Thank you for letting me know.)
You two have a routine! Mithrun lives by routine anyway, so you quickly follow and do your daily things. It’s not boring though because you’re happy to be doing them together.
Life is calm and he’s content. It’s so much more than he ever thought he’d get. He’s going to savor every second.
♡︎ Kabru ♡︎
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Kabru’s proposal is simple and intimate, but he makes sure to do things right. He tells you to meet him at a certain spot and that you’re ’going shopping’ for something. But lol no he’s proposing
Except of course something goes terribly wrong and Kabru is left a stressed out mess and wants to redo the whole thing. But tough luck buddy, you’ve already accepted. He sighs and furrows his brows and smiles, giving you that look that tells the world just how he feels. It’s soft and adoring and so in love.
Kabru is involved in the wedding planning for every step of the way. He’s almost a bit controlling with it.
He knows so many people that the guest list quickly reaches the hundreds.
Eventually Kabru gives up and you two plan to have something small and private instead. Which is a relief, because with something private he won’t feel the need to mask himself the entire time, to play the part.
He’s so! Excited! To see you in your wedding clothes!
He’s actually a bit gushy about it. Like he’s trying to hide his excitement. He puts his hand over his mouth to hide his smile, but his eyes are wide and he’s all riled up.
At the reception you honestly just sit in the corner together and whisper all night. For once he doesn’t intend on using this opportunity to gain information or insight.
Onto home life! Maybe for a tiny bit, you two live in his little room? Just until you get a house.
His landlord teases constantly.
Once you do get a place to stay, he actually doesn’t care about decorating all that much. He’s got stuff though, books and notebooks and random things he’s gathered over the years.
Kabru is a mess. He isn’t gross, but he’s unorganized and kinda just tosses his clothes on the floor. He leaves drawers open, and cabinets open.
He sleeps spread out, limbs everywhere. He drools sometimes. He makes you promise to not tell anyone that ever.
Kabru doesn’t cook. He’ll attempt it for you, though. He’ll try a lot of new things for you. He tries to eat more, to sleep more, and actually take care of himself. He knows you’d like that.
Kabru is pretty social. He keeps you up to date on every little endeavor he has going on. You have a routine of going to this restaurant or tavern frequently and he’ll lean in close to you and whisper about the people.
That guy over there? He’s got some information on this. Kabru’s going to buy him a drink.
This isn’t as effective as it was before Melini became a nation, though, when he was just an adventurer on the island. Because now Kabru is the King’s advisor and people are a little intimidated by him.
This frustrates him. When you get home and sit on the couch, he’ll lay his head in your lap or wrap his arms around your waist and complain. He likes being the advisor, but he doesn’t like how people think he’s intimidating and royal or important.
You visit Kabru at the castle often! Hell, maybe you even live in the castle with him! Idk how that works.
He has a lot of stuffy meetings with diplomats and important people, and you’ll often be on his arm. Galas, parties, dinners. It’s kind of exhausting. But Kabru loves every minute of it. He’s got you next to him, and he’s got the Kahka Brud diplomat tipsy enough to openly discuss the Queen’s affair with a servant. It’s so great.
You also share a lot of knowing looks with Kabru. When Laois does something Laois-y, you just look at each other.
Kabru isn’t much for PDA, he cares about who’s watching and what they think. He’s actually a little paranoid that people might find a way to use you against him. So he’s constantly planting these little ideas in people’s heads, about what might happen if anyone messed with you… It’s more subtle than I’m able to exemplify but you get the point.
Your husband has a room dedicated to his thoughts. His sherlock holmes mind palace.
It’s actually just a dark room where he puts pictures of people on the walls and connects them all with red yarn. You walk in with a lamp and he just flinches and squints at the light. Little freak.
He will talk your ear off, explaining each and every thought he has in his little web. Actually, doing that helps him sort things out and come to realizations!
He likes sitting on the floor with you in his lap, his arms around your waist. Idk he’s just the kind of guy to sit on the floor and stare at the wall in deep thought.
Kabru doesn’t really get mad at you. He gets very concerned if you do something reckless and might look a bit frustrated on the outside, but he generally keeps his cool and speaks respectfully.
He can be a bit snarky though.
Different from most couples, you don’t terrorize each other that much. You might terrorize him, but he doesn’t do that. Kabru doesn’t do pranks or cute little revenge things. Kabru’s idea of terrorizing someone is slowly gaslighting them into insanity over the years. He won’t do that to you, obviously.
He never takes his ring off! He’s hurt if you take yours off.
He dances a lot with you when you’re alone. He’ll come up behind you and wrap his arms around your waist and sway a little. He’ll grab your hand and your hip and spin you around the kitchen. There’s no music, he doesn’t need it. He just wants to see you laugh.
If you make horrible crappy food he’ll still eat it. He hesitates to tell you it’s bad. It’s only when you insist on his opinion that he’ll admit it’s shit. (But he does so nicely)
Wear his clothes. Please. Please wear his clothes, it drives him crazy. You’ll be the death of him.
Y’all are weird, you match each others freaks. He adores your quirks and hobbies and is genuinely interested in learning about everything.
Seriously. He wants to know everything. Every thought that passes through your pretty head, every inch of you, every beat of your heart. He explores your body a lot. He worships you.
Kabru never thought he’d get married, actually. Not that he was opposed to the idea, he just wasn’t considering it until he met you. He’s extremely loyal, though, and you’re stuck with him forever. He reminds you of that often.
He keeps a mental list of people who have flirted with you or checked you out. He has his eye on them.
Kabru likes being the little spoon!
He likes bathing with you, washing your hair. It’s just intimate for him.
Your evenings are spent talking about everything and nothing. And he’s not digging for info, he’s just enjoying himself.
He likes to watch you sleep sometimes. Don’t ask why, just let him do his thing.
Milsiril visits often. She’s a relatively chill mother in law, if not a bit clingy. But she won’t just cling to Kabru, she’ll cling to you too (after you prove your worth)
Milsiril unfortunately shows up without warning sometimes, and her timing is horrible. It’s usually when you and Kabru are kissing and your hands are everywhere and you’re being gently laid on the bed and—
Oh there’s elf mom.
He gets embarrassed with her. She tells a lot of stories she thinks are cute. Kabru does not think they’re cute.
Once she leaves there’s a huge sigh of relief.
Kabru speaks other languages to you sometimes, but he refuses to tell you what he’s said.
Life with Kabru is interesting! You’re always busy. You’ve always got something going on. But it’s those moments when you’re in bed together, when your limbs are tangled in the dark, that he treasures the most.
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nkogneatho · 1 year ago
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۪۫❁ུ۪۪𝐖𝐄𝐃𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐌𝐄𝐍 °࿐
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—a/n: first thing i wrote after hiatus so still a bit rusty but i tried my best to deliver my emotions. If this gets good response, I'll do part 2. Not proofread. fem!reader
#mlist #taglist #art commissions
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𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎.𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔: 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐕𝐎𝐖𝐒
For someone who's so confident, Satoru for the first time found himself anxious, legs trembling in the wonderment of what his bext action should be. He was standing at the altar in his neat pale grey suit. All eyes were fixated on him. But that's not what made him nervous. It was how he would react when he sees you. And just then, you appeared like the fragment of his best intentions.
The wedding band started playing the theme. Your white flowy satin dress dancing to the rhythm of the wind. Your beautiful face concealed a little from the veil. You looked so perfect. And just when you finally reached the altar, you stood parallel to him, smiling and satisfied with his reaction. You've never seen him so engorged in something—or someone.
The minister asked him to proceed with the vows.
"Y/N L/N. I usually am the one to talk a lot. But for the first time, I am short of words." You smiled at him.
"I think it's crazy how I see you everyday, but somehow you still manage to take my breath away with how beautiful you are. I know I call myself the honored one...but trust me darling, I am nothing but a fish in your ocean. You...you are my everything. And when I say that, I mean it. I want you to know that if the world is ever against you, I'll be in the front protecting you with all I have. I love you so much, baby." It feels like he's choking on his words.
This man that just said thst he's at loss for words, proceeded to make you tear up with a poetry. You've never been love so much in life. It feels unreal. But you know it's all true when as soon as you say "I do" his lips are on yours, reminding that every touch you feel is real.
𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔: 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄
The hall was decorated with white lillies and tulips that you loved so much. People grooving and chattering to the background music. Soon it was time for the moment you've been waiting for. The dance. Your first dance with Geto. The lights dimmed and the spotlight hit the floor as you and Suguru walked into the bright refraction on the floor. The crowd dispersing away to give the newly married couple their full attention.
One of his hands was on your waist while the other intertwined one of yours.
Put your head on my shouuulder...
You both smiled wide as you couldn't have asked for a better song. This was the song that you once told Geto you'd like to dance to. Since then, he remembered to play twirl you around to Paul Anka at every occasion. And this one had to be the best one yet.
Hold me in your arms, baby...
He mouthed the words and you couldn't help but giggle. Suguru doesn't usually sing but he has this deep voice that blend perfectly to the song. It sounds like heaven.
"Get ready to dance to this every anniversary, my love," he whispered.
The room was filled with so many people. Yet, when your eyes recasted your signature "i love you" look, he suddenly felt the world disappear, and only you two exist.
That's when he realized, he really did get lucky when you fell in love with him.
𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈: 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐘𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍
As always, you woke up late. It's surprising how Toji looks like the one who'd be irresponsible when it's actually you. But hey! He can't complain about it. Weddings and Receptions are tiring. If he could, he'd let you sleep for one whole day if you didn't have a flight to catch. You quickly got dressed and rushed to the airport with your man.
The flight was awful since you were irritated by the snorer next to you. Trust me. You wanted to stuff the macadamia nuts in his nostrils but Toji stopped you from doing so. He had a better and more rational solution of putting headphones over your ears and playing you your favorite song. Your lips widened when his thumb started circling your thighs to calm you and make you relax.
Upon arriving to the hotel, you finally took a big stretch to wash all the tiredness away.
"IT'S HONEYMOON TIME, BABY!!"
You jumped in excitement and pretty much everyone at the entrance was staring at you and Toji. He won't stop you though. He loves watching you dance around everytime you're happy.
You both walked towards the receptionist, with Toji carrying all the luggage. Gotta use the big beefy man privilege baby.
"Good afternoon. How may I help you?"
"Good afternoon. We reserved a suite here a week ago."
"Okay. May I please know the name you reserved it under?" she asked.
"Oh it's Mr. And Mrs. Fushiguro." The moment those words left your lips, Toji felt his world shift. He knew that you were a Fushiguro when you signed the marriage certificate. He knew it when you said "I do" at the altar. He knew it when he placed the ring on your finger. But hearing it from your mouth made him have butterflies in his stomach. Wow. You are really his. He couldn't for one second believe it.
"So this is how heaven feels like," he mumbled.
"You said something, baby?"
"Oh nothing, my love. Just that you're beautiful "
"I'm running on four hours of sleep. My under eyes are darker than your black shirt," you whispered.
"I don't know what you're talking about. You're still the most beautiful person to exist," he argued and you just rolled your eyes. You genuinely wanted to know how he manages to find you beautiful at every occasion.
"Are you in denial?"
"No, darling. I am in love."
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Taglist: @sugurini @princess-okkotsu @saturnsoups @cookingforsatoru @oldbutnotold @rin-vana @bimbno @arisaturn @tojigasam @bxrnthyfears @gojoxxluv @seqeva @nanamikentoseyebags @stariwrites @sluttoru @lvmxn @greycaelum @kokonoiscoconut @deskaisers @icyowl @thesimphouse @anxious-chick @monimonieee @sweet-yzabelle @keichartreusely @arguablyferal @kannra21 @bbytamaki @rwibbnz @ta-ni-ya @mamayan @strawwbee @jesi-pinkman @fueledbysano @psychiccloudobject @baewriites @wystericwoes @his-saiko
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theemporium · 1 year ago
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Despite the fact drivers were meant to be cautious of their size and weight, Carlos Sainz was an absolute beast of a man.
Everything about him was big and you loved it, far more than you cared to admit. You loved the way he towered over you. You loved the way his thick arms would wrap around you. You loved his broad shoulders and thigh thighs and big hands and just every single damn thing about your boyfriend. Every single aspect of him lived in your head on a loop, not a passing moment in your life where you weren’t thinking about some part of him. 
And his personality only matched. Carlos Sainz was never one to half-ass something, regardless if it was a race or a date night—or in the most recent case, a honeymoon. 
He knew from the first day he met you that he was going to marry you. He knew that the day he found the perfect ring, that would be his sign that he was ready to propose and that day came around two years later. 
The ring was beautiful and large and encaptured everything beautiful about Carlos. The wedding felt like something out of a fairytale. The reception had felt like the best day of your life and you swore nothing would ever top it. 
And then Carlos whisked you away on your dream vacation, starting off with a massive villa on the Amalfi Coast. It was huge, far too big for the two of you but Carlos had insisted that it was what you deserved. 
Though, you should have known his real reason was so that he could fuck you in every single one of those rooms in the villa, with the sight of his wife and the Italian coast as his perfect view.
“Carlos—fuck!”
“Go on, baby, scream for me.”
“It’s too much!”
“Shhh, you’re taking it so well,” Carlos praised, his lips brushing against your ear as he gripped your thighs even tighter. “Don’t even need to do anything, just look pretty for me.”
You let out a choked noise, your lips parting as your husband continued to bounce you up and down on his cock. The last few days since you landed had been similar. Whichever room you were in, whatever you were wearing, whatever you were doing never mattered to Carlos. He just needed to have his hands on you. He just needed to have his cock inside you. 
He just needed you.
And it was hard to forget how big and strong your husband was when he did everything in his power to remind you.
Whether it was engulfing you as he fucked you from behind, keeping you trapped between his body and the wall as he slid inside you, or even pressing down on the bulge in your stomach when he fucks you on the bed, cooing at the reminder that even his cock was too big—Carlos was big and everything reminded you of that fact.
“Hmm, just like that, amor,” Carlos groaned as your nails dug into his shoulders. “Just hold onto me. Let me do the work, mi hermosa esposa.”
“S’too much, Carlos,” you whined as he stood by the large, floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out on the setting sun. You had been admiring the oranges and pinks and purples in the sky when Carlos had settled in beside you, lasting all of three minutes before he was all over you—despite the fact you were still leaking from his last load.
“Never get enough of you, mi amor,” Carlos gritted through clenched teeth as he continued to move you up and down his cock, as his arms flexed with every move, as he fucked you like you were just a toy rather than his wife. And yet, he was barely breaking a sweat as he kept going and going and going and—
“Oh fuck!” You cried out as you clenched around his cock, nuzzling your face into his warm chest as you felt your body shake with the intensity of your orgasm but Carlos held you close. He let you wrap your legs around him as he held you to him, as he guided you through your orgasm until you were clinging onto him.
“Perfect for me,” Carlos hummed as he pressed a kiss to the side of your head. “Every part of you was made for me, made for my cock.”
You snorted. “I still think it’s too big for me.”
You could feel his smile against your temple. “And yet, I make it fit every single time.”
“You’re doing God’s work, Mr Sainz,” you teased playfully as he huffed out a laugh.
“Anything for you, Mrs Sainz.”
.
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anadiasmount · 9 months ago
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hello again? - jude bellingham x reader.
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quick sum: weddings and dates. feelings tested to their breaking point when one of you appears with a date. the night is young, is there still a chance to make things right even when it feels wrong?
wc: 4k | masterlist | jude’s masterlist
psa 🗣️: HAD SOO MUCH FUN WRITING THIS!!! this wa smeant to be posted yesterday so I'm sorry for the small delay!! i love the drama and angst but fluffy ending as promised!!🤞🏻 like always hope you enjoy! 🤍
“i going to need five painkillers by the end of the night,” the bride, well, your best friend says. you laugh as you finish tucking in the last few bobby pins in her updo, making sure no flyaway or small bumps are seen, everything sleek and perfect. “i am too. or maybe many many many tequila shots, whichever is first available,” you joke. 
“you should be all set!” you say cheerfully with a full smile on your face, hands resting on her shoulders as she admires your work. “it looks absolutely perfect, thank you! you’re truly a life savor i was ready to cancel the whole wedding,” your friend's eyes glimmer in relief, having a huge weight lifted off her shoulders as you did her hair. the hairstylist had to cancel the day of due to having a family emergency, but refunding her money was the least she could do. 
all the bridesmaids surrounded you, complimenting the hair and most importantly the bride who could just be overall thankful and full of emotions. the photographer came in, taking individual and group pictures of everyone, and opening a bottle of champagne to start the day. 
there were still a couple of hours left so you did some touch-ups on hair and makeup, assuring to add some powder to set and spray a setting mist to ensure it would last all day, also being generous with the hair spray. you changed into the olive green-toned dress and the black pumps for the evening, the dress hitting the correct angle and not interfering with you walk. a simple gold bracelet and matching earrings completed the look, walking out and earning praises from your girlfriends. 
your heart began to race faster approaching the reception, suppressing any feelings away because you felt it wasn't the time. the wedding nerves were killing you but also seeing jude again was making you stress more than it shouldn't have. how he was. what he'd wear. if he was even going to be there?
with jude's schedule, it was hard to even make time for each other, being one of the main reasons for your messy breakup. your promotion to the law firm, move to spain, his recovery, media, games, and the always questioning each other's every move. it took a toll especially on you, crossing yourself every night knowing you couldn't do anything about it except long for him.
he was your every thought since then. if he missed you? how his life was going? if he also desired to get back together? as hard as it was you still felt more than love for him. the feeling in your tummy spreading as you remember the first times with him. the kiss, the date, the sex, the love, all of it.
"i've ordered your favorite, now tell me where i can help you," jude says kissing just below your ear returning from outside where he placed a call. you hand him your flashcards pulling out your notebook to read the different scenarios that match with the words.
"just so you know, before we start, i'll have you know i want something in return," jude whispers with a cheeky grin. "of course you do, what is it," you ask teasingly your arm wrapping around his shoulders waiting for his response.
"a date. i want you to go out on a date with me y/n..." jude says earning a silence from you. your nails rake against the back of his neck, "i'd love too. just so you know, depending how much you help me with determine the commitment to our first date..."
"i promise to be on my best behavior then."
"y/n! are you ready?" your friend waved her hand in the air with a confused look, you immediately snapped back into reality as you stepped out to the reception. "does everyone have their flowers? remember they go in your right hand!" the party organizer reminded you as you quickly got into line with the groomsmen.
it all happened quickly, you smiled at alex who quickly got into place arm wrapped with yours as you walked down the aisle as rehersed. the reception was absolutely beautiful. the tears, the vows, the laughter, the ceremony couldn't have been more perfect. you hated to admit but your eyes did search around for jude, and once you saw him, a sensation in you went numb.
there jude sat with a girl to his side who clearly hadn't read the dress code. placing kisses all over his hand and cheek, the love dazed in her eyes as she stared at jude. jude did reach over a few times and she giggled, making your weak heart wrench further.
jude on the other hand started to get impatient, especially with carla who wouldn't stop annoying him and trying to get his attention every few seconds. since breaking up with you he couldn't stand the PDA towards him or seeing it. jude quickly found it difficult since most of his teammates were married or in committed relationships.
it seemed like everywhere he went, there were reminders of you lingering around. the library you studied and where he took you on a desk in a quiet corner, the cafe where you'd get your morning coffee with him, even his training center, and the beranabeu where he hoped and waited you'd be there. he was miserable and driven to his breaking point.
jude began to regret bringing carla, as she got the wrong message and was all over him. the wedding you planned to go to together, where you were supposed to be his date, not her. but his stupid jealousy and talks from others were the fault he was here today. he was anticipating meeting your boyfriend or date, make the message clear he was going to be in the picture.
he hated to think of someone else when it wasn't him. it ticked him off and he knew he couldn't do anything about it because you weren't there anymore. but no one said he couldn't feel the way he felt. to hate the man who would forever make you laugh, or earn your love at the end of the day.
all those promises, the kisses, the hugs, the forever after you guys created was long gone. it hurt jude to the point where he had nightmares, not being able to sleep. it didn't help when they teased or made comments to him. or the fact a rumor went around you moved on and had someone else.
"carla, do you mind getting some drinks while i say hello to some friends?" jude kindly asks removing her hands from his chest. "anything for us jude! i'll wait for you by our table," she winks at him making jude internally cringe as she walks off.
he dabs up his friends, congratulating the groom and making small talk. "oye jude! que pasa chaval!? i didn't think you'd come," his shorter teammate brahim greeted him. "well i'm here aren't i? how are you? como estais?" jude mocked earning a chuckle from him.
all of his teammates suddenly surrounded him, laughing and discussing the plays for the game before, and the tactics for the upcoming one. jude looked around trying to look for you and carla. he fixed his suit every now and then, entranced with his friends. "who did you come with?" asked brahim, looking around for what presumably could be you.
"an old friend, her name is carla," jude winces at his friend's look. “i thought you were coming with y/n?” asks brahim earning a deep scowl from jude. “no we uh- we broke up a while ago,” jude squints his eyes, eyes finding you where you laughed loudly with your friends.
“but she’s here?”
“yeah but probably not alone,” jude retorted still convinced you were seeing someone and they were here. “what?” brahim laughs at him earning an eye roll from jude, “you can’t be serious! i’m pretty sure she’s single,” brahim says. “what are you playing at here jude?”
“nothing. i’m here for the wedding,” jude scoffs. “yeah sure you are,” brahim squints his eyes then looks around starting to walk off. “when you come to your senses, i’ll wait for you over there. remember not everything seems to be exactly as you seem jude…” he smacks his shoulders and walks off.
you’d probably been on your third glass of champagne by now, enjoying the presence with your girls as you spoke about the wedding and old throwbacks together. the speeches were made and the newly weds had their first dance already. anyone at the event center was dancing, talking, or drinking.
“i’ll be right back, i'm pissing myself,” you excuse yourself laughing at joke as you step away to do your business. you brought along your bag, washing your hands and touching your your makeup that had smudged a bit after the maid of honor speech. applying a fresh coat of lipstick and gloss you dabbed the excess off and headed outside.
you motion to your friends you we're head to the bar, them mouthing to bring shots of tequila and some peanuts to eat. “i don’t think we’ve met before,” a strange voice says behind you, you turn slowly, feeling your chest sink deeper as you place a small smile. “i'm carla,” the girl introduced herself, watching as you hesitated taking her hand.
“i feel like i’ve seen you around somewhere, i just can’t put a finger to it. you know huge town but small circle of friends, i was invited last minute to the wedding so,” carla spoke falsely making you want to walk out the conversation. you nodded along not really caring and wanting to go back. part of you hated the way you were treating her, but it was all the jealousy talking. she had done nothing to you besides show up here with him.
“i’m sorry but my friends are waiting for me,” you apologize letting the bar tender know where you were seated. you grabbed a fresh glass of champagne and standing up, grabbing your bag and walked away. “leaving so soon? i was hoping we could talk,” she approaches you again making you turn again but this time a bit agitated since you were catching on to what she was doing.
“like i said, my friends are waiting for me,” you shrug nonchalantly seeing her cock her head to the said and look you up and down. “well i didn’t catch your name,” she sarcastically says, the anger building in you slowly as she spoke and wanted to rub onto your face who she was here with.
“i’m y/n, but i feel like you know that already.”
“oh you’re the ex-girlfriend!” the girl enhanced the oh, with a fake smile. rage burned in your veins, needing to have resistance before you put her in her place. she had been on it the whole night, and she began to test your limits now. 
“you must be the new girlfriend!” you returned the fake smile and took a huge sip of the champagne. “almost couldn’t tell…” you shrugged looking for an escape route but landing eyes with the man you avoided the whole night. his mouth agape and wide eyes. 
he wore a black suit and white button up, leaving three buttons undone, hair styled and a fancy watch adorning his wrist. you felt tugged into the eye contact, needing and wanting to be the one next to him tonight. but instead here you were, giving your attention to the person you hated most. 
your jaw clenched, turning your attention to your glass where you swirled the drink. “it’s a shame you guys didn’t work, but don’t worry! i’ll take better care of him,” she snarled. “jude spoke so much of you, honestly don’t see anything fascinating about you. have a goodnight.” 
you downed the drink in one go, feeling the burn in your throat as you placed the glass onto the empty table. jude frowned at your state, still overly confused and waiting for your date to appear. then it all clicked in his head, you didn’t bring anyone, you didn’t bring a date. the jealousy and anger disappearing in him slowly as he watched you sit down and sigh covering your head in your hands. 
“what did you say to her?” he questioned his date, seeing a smirk appear on her lips. jude turned back to you where you looked around in a trance, knowing immediately you felt the anxiety in you. 
“what had to be said. it’s all done.” 
“what’s done? what are you doing?” jude spit out dragging her to an empty hall where she just chuckled. “i told her what needed to be said. closed a chapter and now we’re starting a new one,” carla spoke crossing her arms. “i brought you here as a companion, not as my girlfriend or anything more. i think you’re getting the wrong message here,” jude said shaking his head.
“what do you mean jude?”
“i never asked you to do that, carla. you had no right to do that. i brought you here as a companion, not my girlfriend or anything else,” jude makes it clear to her seeing confusion flash into her eyes, now beaming with embarrassment. “i don't get it jude?”
“that i don’t intend to start a relationship with you. i’m sorry if i have given that impression but i can’t. what did you say to her?" jude demands his tone going softly as he walks towards her. "i thought i had said what needed to be said so we could finally be together!"
"y/n is too busy with herself. she got herself a promotion and is focused on her studies! she can't give you what you want and ask for jude! she's nothing compared to me," carla points to herself as she speaks all mumbled.
"and you can? what you did just now, what impression does that give to me carla? the way you're speaking about someone who you don't know, and never will?" jude defends you, deeming the need to even if you weren't there. she opens her mouth to speak but closes it immediately, knowing nothing could fix the situation. "i'm sorry-"
"save it. we both know you don't mean it," jude scoffs and walks off, back into the reception where you're nowhere to be found. he wandered off for a few minutes looking for you, even asking some people around him and they all gave him the same response that they hadn't seen you.
you had walked off back to your friends after a mini breakdown and questioning your life. beginning to blame yourself for everything when it shouldn't. it was both your faults but yet it hurt to hear her say nothing was fascinating about you. you shouldn't have let her words get to heart but what if they were true?
what if you were stuck in your own world and couldn't bother to make time for him? what if you didn't give enough attention especially when he most needed it? to be worried only in the moment and not live your life to its fullest? a couple shots and dancing later you found yourself seated at your table alone, watching you friends dance without their heels drunkly laughing off.
"where are you even going?" jude asks you, seeing how you packed every item away into suitcases. "clearly far way from you. i can't stand it anymore, you're never here jude!" you yell throwing your hand sin the air.
"you're never here and i'm tired of it jude. it's always some bullshit excuse and if you truly cared you'd see that but you don't. i'm not wanted here so the faster i leave, the better for us," you say zipping up the final case.
"you're being ridiculous," jude laughs in disbelief, approaching you but you warn him to not get near you. "this is what i mean! i can hardly recognize you nowadays! i'm done jude. done," you say loud and clear.
"leave. i never needed you anyway." you turn around facing him, a flash of regret filling in his eyes as you look at him in pure disbelief. "you did, or you wouldn't be standing here if it wasn't for me."
you share your head at the memory, heading to the empty bar to return the empty glasses, feeling the need to clean up the mess and grab a small snack and final glass of champagne walking out to the outdoor balcony for a breath of air. "y/n?" you look up, not feeling sleepy or drunk anymore, standing up straight as jude approaches you.
was it possible to feel your heart shatter into millions of pieces over and over again? to feel the pit of your stomach turn at the sight of your ex-boyfriend? to feel utter pain when it was supposed to be a happy day? "jude..." you croak, looking away and biting the inside of your cheek.
he rests his forearm on the bar railing looking at you, trying to read you as you looked forward. silence fell upon you, but there was no denying that your hearts began to sprint faster at the closeness of the two of you. "did you need something?" you softly ask, taking a sip of the drink. "i wanted to talk," jude states firmly.
"are you sure? i don't think your girlfriend would like that," you attempt to joke but it earns you a frown from jude who just shakes his head. "i'm not sure she would, i'll just leave this here and go-" you try to walk away but he stops you, softly gripping your wrist refusing to let you go.
"she's not my girlfriend, she also left a while ago..." jude says, seeing you finally lock eyes with his. a deep laugh rumbles from his throat a painful smile stretching along his adorned face, "my first reaction would've been that too, if you had shown up here with someone else."
"i don't get it, why are you here then?" you feel the need to ask, get some sort of answer to relieve the pang in your chest. "why bother being here when you still brought her."
"because i was jealous, there i said it. i was so convinced you'd show up with someone who wasn't me. that i'd have to face reality and finally accept we're not longer together. that i can't call you mine anymore..." jude confesses, making your eyes glisten with new tears again.
"do you not know how it feels? to still be stuck in the past and longing for hope that one day you'll come back to me? having to face everyday with you on my mind anywhere i go? to have vivid dreams of you?" jude frowns, his once rough voice turning delicate as he brought a hand wiped your tears. "i can't stand it anymore."
"i thought this whole time before coming here, you were with someone else. everyone told me you had moved on and looked in a better place and all i could feel was bitterness. it wasn't fair, but i was so wrong y/n. so wrong to the point where i brought someone who could never love me like you did..." jude wiped his own tears away at the state of you.
you felt like you couldn't move, stuck in the same place as you heard his voice. the voice that one day soothed you to sleep, to calm you down, to look forward to at the end of the day. was it possible to feel this emotionless? to have no more tears left to cry? a sob emerged you, covering your face and attempting to control your breaths.
"who said i stopped? i may have an idea of what you feel like, let's be real. i don't know quite frankly who told you i moved on, but that's all lies. i can't do that knowing i still feel the same i did when i first met you," you sniffle taking a gulp and feeling the knot in your throat. "i thought i was fine and could handle seeing you, but my oh my was i incorrect... to see her with you, for her to come up to me and speak the way she did? for a second i thought 'where is my jude'?"
"i'm right here..."jude grabbed your hand and placed it on his heart, bringing it up to his jaw and resting his face on your palm. "don't you see it though? we're back where we ended off. do you possibly think we're good for each other when it seems like we're only hurting?" you question him.
"i've lived everyday thinking i wasn't enough or that i couldn't give you what you wanted jude," you shook your head in disappointment, "i want to fix things i do, but i'm scared that if we do this again, we're going to end up back here confessing our wrongs and tears. the way i felt the day we broke up doesn't compare to now..." you say, jude going quiet and looking down in defeat.
"i miss you so much jude," you choked on your own words, a fresh wave of tears overpowered the dry ones, holding onto jude upper arms as he leaned down and engulfed you into a deep hug. jude repeatedly kissed your head, choking on his own sobs as he repeated how much he missed you.
"i hope you know i'm still so madly in love with you y/n. i've never felt this way for anyone and it seems like its meant for you and you only,"j jude says making you giggle. "i'm serious pretty girl. i'm serious about you and us. i always was and i made the mistake of letting you go once, but i'm not here to do that again. i'm here to grant all of the promises we made," jude holds your face, seeing your red eyes and slightly smudged makeup, still more beautiful than ever.
"all of them?"
"every single one of them."
"i feel like we should talk more about it," you insist, seeing jude nod and agreeing with you. he tightens his grips on you waist leaning further down closer to you. "yes we do and we will, but right now i want to kiss you..." he asks and you grant. he sucks in a breath lips devouring yours after months, holding and kissing you how you liked and deserved.
you held onto his suit, tiptoeing up and deepening the kiss further, being able to taste his minty whisky scent. "come with me. we won't talk about everything tonight but i really just want to be here with you," jude says, sitting down on a small couch laid outside. you immediately follow and cuddle into him like you used to. you place a final peck onto his lips. "wait my drink-" jude holds your waist giving you a look with a playful smile.
"i think that's enough for tonight."
749 notes · View notes
bobohu4eva · 5 months ago
Text
Hitched (M)
Characters: Baekhyun x Reader
Genre: arranged marriage au, acquaintances(?) to lovers, smut
Summary: Can great sex make an unwanted marriage less shitty? Yes. Yes it can.
Warnings: explicit unprotected sex, semi public (outdoor) sex, edging, Baekhyun has a Big Dick, alcohol consumption
WC: 9.8k apparently I don't know how to keep things brief anymore!
A/N: The majority of this is extremely self-indulgent smut. Oops? You're welcome? It is (mostly) pretty soft though.
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“Smile!” 
The cameras flashed, and you put on a show for your friends and family. Your new husband kissed you, and from the outside, everything seemed perfect. 
The perfect dress, makeup, hair, a rich and handsome groom, and everyone you cared about right there with you, celebrating you and the man who was supposed to be the love of your life. It was a lavish ceremony and even more opulent reception, but you couldn't enjoy it at all. 
There was nothing wrong with him, but you and Baekhyun had never even dated, and you definitely never pictured yourself marrying him. You didn't exactly have any reason to dislike him, you'd known him since you were a kid and he was undoubtedly an attractive guy, but marrying him had been your parents idea, not yours. 
As a kid your family had everything you could've imagined, foreign sports cars, numerous vacation homes, a yacht, nannies, tutors, and the list goes on. Your parents' companies had been doing well, and life was easy. 
But that didn't last forever. Now in your early 20’s, you watched as the fortune your family had built for generations was slipping away. 
You were still a teenager when it started and couldn’t fully comprehend what had happened, but it seemed like some combination of bad investments and unpaid debts. Slowly the vacation homes, yacht, and cars were sold off one by one just to pay the bills. As the years passed it seemed that the walls were starting to close in, but on the surface your family, especially your mother, made sure it didn't seem that way. 
The good family name was pretty much all that was left now, and your mother would do anything she could to keep it strong. 
Growing up with generational wealth, your family always associated with others of similar standing, and one of the families you'd grown up with had been particularly close; the Byuns. 
Their only son, Baekhyun, was someone you'd grown up around, but at seven years older than you, you hardly knew each other. He was the perfect rich kid, smart, handsome, and polite, but you still would've much preferred to marry someone you actually loved, or at least were close with. 
“Y/n, you're doing it again.” He whispered in your ear, and you realized that your smile had once again fallen as you zoned out, and his mother was right there in front of you, looking concerned. 
You perked back up, and saw her face flood with relief. You looked at Baekhyun, and he was still smiling for the pictures as well, but you noticed the slightly apologetic look he shot you. 
You really did try to play the part, for the sake of your families, but it was hard. This was supposed to be one of the happiest days of your life, but instead you were putting on an act, hiding how miserable you felt under the facade of it all. 
The worst part was just how happy both his and your families were. Both moms cried, and even your dad teared up a little. You couldn't even blame them, either. It had been a beautiful ceremony, and you and him both looked the part so perfectly. It was everything a high society wedding should be, and on top of that, it was the only thing saving your family from bankruptcy. 
Once pictures were done with it was time for the first dance- in a gazebo decorated with fairy lights and at least a thousand fresh white roses. All you could think was how incredible this would have been, if it was a real wedding, between two people who actually loved each other. Every beautiful thing was a cruel reminder of how you would never get to experience that for yourself.
Baekhyun did a better job than you, and if you hadn't been so depressed, you might've even gotten flustered a few times. He looked incredibly handsome in his tux, smiling sweetly at you as he led you through the dance, a painfully romantic song filling the spring air. He was the picture perfect groom. 
You so badly wanted to hate him for agreeing to all of it, but knew it was more complicated than that. Despite not knowing him very well, you did know how close knit his family was. If his parents really wanted him to do this, he would have a tough time refusing. 
You were closer with his parents than you had ever been with him, and they adored you. Despite not being related, you almost thought of them like your own aunt and uncle. Baekhyun, on the other hand, was like your mysterious older cousin. He always seemed preoccupied with his studies, or later, his job. You'd been around each other at holidays and various parties throughout the years, but he never felt approachable. 
To act so romantically with him felt unbelievably strange. On top of your disappointment at the whole situation it was also just very awkward. The kissing and touching, the dancing, the “loving” looks you shared, they all made your chest feel tight. Baekhyun was obviously very handsome, but the nature behind all of it still got to you. 
Before the wedding Baekhyun had asked you if you would rather not kiss or touch at all, not wanting to make you uncomfortable, but you'd assured him that it was fine. Aside from the parents and those closest to you both, most of the guests had no idea this wedding had been arranged just a few months earlier. If this was going to be believable, you had to make it look real. 
Eventually the dancing ended and the reception began, relieved beyond belief to finally get to have a drink. The champagne made things much easier, and as distant friends and family asked you and your new husband about your love story, you lied with increasing confidence. Baekhyun, too, was leaning into the act more heavily after a few drinks. His arm around you and the way he looked at you made everyone oooh and ahhh, giving them the same story you'd told minutes earlier, about how the two of you realized one day that all of those years you'd been hiding your love for each other, and when you realized that the other felt the same, you couldn't marry quickly enough. 
It was all bullshit of course, but they ate it up, and that was the important thing. You didn't want to think about how embarrassing it would be if an acquaintance or extended family member found out your parents had orchestrated everything. 
Several times people gushed about how lucky the two of you were to have found each other. The bitterness you felt was so intense you hoped dearly that they couldn’t see right through your smile. 
The relief you felt when the guests finally started to clear out, leaving the lavish ballroom for their hotel rooms, was monumental. Eventually the last of them were gone, and since both families insisted, you and Baekhyun retreated to your shared suite. 
Both you and him knew that your families were hoping for a grand baby soon, but that wasn't something you could even consider at the moment. 
“I don't mind sleeping on the couch.” He told you once you were alone with him. 
As nice as the room was, it didn't make sense for him to sleep on the couch. The bed was huge, and the couches weren't long enough for him to fully lay down. You shook your head. 
“Are you sure?” 
You smiled a little at his sweetness, “There's plenty of space for both of us, don't worry about it.” 
And so you and Baekhyun shared the bed on your first night together as husband and wife. You stayed on your side, and he stayed on his, not once touching, even a little. 
It was expected that eventually you and him would buy a house together and live there, but in the meantime, you stayed at that suite together. His parents owned it, and they hoped that living together would help spark something real, not to mention sharing a bed. 
Life after marriage wasn't that different, aside from your living space. You didn't have a job yet, having only graduated college a few months earlier, so you spent much of your time out with friends. As nice as the suite was, it reminded you of your loveless marriage, so you took every chance you could to get away. Baekhyun mostly just worked, keeping to himself, although he always asked you about your day when you’d get home. To his disappointment you kept your responses short. He wanted to try and get to know you better, but you didn't seem interested. 
The truth was, every time you saw him and he tried to talk to you, it made you feel worse. He did absolutely nothing wrong, but he, like the suite, was a painful reminder of your unfortunate fate. The result was you essentially avoiding him, even in your shared space. Baekhyun, however, wasn’t willing to live that way. 
A few weeks passed with hardly any words exchanged between you and him, so he decided to try something different. That evening when you returned to the suite, you were met with a generous dinner spread, the entire room meticulously decorated, and your husband sitting at the center of it all, looking at you bashfully in the candle light.
You were surprised, to say the least. 
He noticed the way you froze up, getting up from the table and taking one hand, guiding you to the table. He pulled out your chair for you, leading you to sit. 
Soon Baekhyun was seated across from you, looking back at you with a slightly unnerving intensity. 
“Why are you doing this?” You asked. 
He took a deep breath, “I want to try to make this work.” 
You raised an eyebrow. 
“I can tell how much you hate being married to me, and I’m sorry. I think we should at least try to make the best of it, though.” 
“Make the best of it?” 
“Well, yes. I mean it could be worse, right? Am I really that bad?” 
You sighed, annoyance taking hold at his nonchalant attitude. “No, Baekhyun, that's not the point, this whole situation just… sucks. Maybe it's stupid but I always thought I'd marry someone I was actually in love with, and it would be one of the best moments of my life. Instead I’m married to someone I barely even know.” 
“I'm sorry, and I know how you feel, I really do. But don't you think we should at least try to get along?” 
After a week of keeping your discontent to yourself, it came bubbling up and you no longer bothered to hide how you felt from him. You let it out, finally letting out what had been plaguing your mind since the wedding.
“Every time I see your face or even this suite for that matter, it makes me feel like shit. I really didn’t want this, and I don’t understand how you seem so unbothered. I mean, are you really not that upset about all this? Why did you agree to it so quickly?” 
“I didn’t have much of a choice either, you know how my parents are. A couple years ago when I still wasn't in a serious relationship of any kind they started floating the idea of setting me up with someone. Your name got mentioned a lot, so I've had more time to come to terms with it, I suppose.”
You scoffed, “So you've known for years that this would happen?” 
“Well, no. It was always just a suggestion, until a few months ago when they told me that they discussed it with your parents and actually wanted to go through with it.” 
Not sure what else to say, you shifted your focus to the plate of food before you, and he did the same. An awkward silence filled the dining room, though you still preferred the silence to his rationalizing of your miserable arrangement. Much to your dismay, however, it wasn’t long until he was again doing just that. 
“A lot of our parents' friends started out like this too, you know. To be fair most of them at least got to date for a while before getting married, but they’re happy now, so why shouldn’t we be able to do the same?”
He wasn’t wrong, this kind of thing wasn’t exactly rare, though you still hadn’t planned to turn out that way yourself. Still, you just stared back at him with a look of annoyance. 
“What I really wanted to talk to you about, the reason I made this dinner for us, I thought maybe, if you would be interested, we could go on a honeymoon. I know that wasn't originally part of the plan, but I think it could be good for us. Anywhere you want to go, I'll make it happen.”
His offer was extremely generous, but still didn’t exactly sound appealing. Being alone with him for days on end wasn’t your idea of fun, you worried that it would even become quite depressing, not to mention awkward. 
“I don't know….” 
“It can be as long or short as you like, and if you decide you hate being around me that much you can come back here anytime. You're my wife now, and I want to be able to make you happy, to make this whole thing work out for us. If there's anything I can do to help us get there, I’ll do it, whatever it takes.” 
When he put it like that, it was hard to argue with him. 
“Anywhere I want? And you’ll really fly me back if I don’t like it?” 
He nodded, “I promise.” 
Though you still had your doubts, you reluctantly agreed. A couple days later you were packing your bags, flying first class to Switzerland, where you'd stay for two weeks at one of his family's vacation homes in the mountains near Lucerne. 
Baekhyun grinned when you told him you wanted to go somewhere with mountains, “excellent choice.” 
The flight had been surprisingly nice. You’d expected that Baekhyun’s family would fly first class, but you were still surprised by just how nice the Swiss airline he’d booked was. You and him essentially had an entire bedroom, and while it was spacious for a plane, that was the closest you’d ever been to him in bed before. Maybe it was just hormones and general touch depravity, but you were all too aware of the way he occasionally brushed up against you as he slept.
When you finally arrived at the house you'd call home for the next couple weeks, walking into the main living area, you understood his excitement at your choice to stay in the mountains. It was nothing short of breathtaking. 
The house itself was beautiful, modern, and impeccably decorated, but you'd seen plenty of nice houses. It was the view that made it so special. The sprawling green valley surrounded by snow capped mountains looked like something out of a fairy tale. 
“My wife has awesome taste.” He said, not missing the way you grimaced, cringing at the word ‘wife’. 
“It still feels super weird hearing you say that.” 
You kept your eyes fixated on the view, and after a moment he was taking your hand and leading you into the master bedroom. Inside on a small table stood a bottle of champagne as well as two glasses, and beyond the sliding glass doors you could see the patio, fit with a hot tub and infinity pool. The king sized bed stood at the center of the room, covered in rose petals. 
You let out a short exhale of a laugh, mostly in disbelief at the sight in front of you. 
“Not bad right?” 
“Oh God, you really are trying to make me fall in love with you. Rose petals and everything…” 
He laughed, shaking his head. “I don't think two weeks is long enough to fall in love, but if you did, that would be great. I guess the staff went a little crazy with the romance since my parents told them this is our honeymoon.” 
He opened the bottle of champagne, pouring each of you a glass and handing one to you. God knows you needed it.
“Cheers.” You clinked the glasses together, each taking a sip. “By the way, I can sleep in one of the other bedrooms, if you'd prefer that. I know the rose petals on the bed are a little much.” 
Maybe it was the alcohol, but it looked like he was blushing ever so slightly as he said it.
Your immediate reaction was relief, that you'd get your own room, but then again that wasn't why you'd traveled all this way together. You were used to sleeping in the same bed with him by now anyway, so you shook your head, hoping you wouldn’t end up regretting it. 
A long sigh passed your lips.“You didn't take me here for us to sit in different rooms all day, we can do that back at home.” 
There was a faint smile on his lips and he nodded, cheeks still a little pink. You both knew what your families were hoping would happen in that bed, and you couldn't help but blush a little as well. For a second you wondered if you and him would ever get that far. He was perfectly fuckable, in theory, but the nature of your arrangement sucked all the excitement out of it for you. 
It was still early in the day, and once the champagne glasses were empty Baekhyun called a car to take the two of you into town. 
“You already seem less bummed out than you've been the last few weeks.” He commented as you headed into the city. 
“Yeah, don’t get me wrong, I’m still sad about everything, but you're right. It's better to at least try to make this work out. I'm trying to be optimistic.” 
He was smiling again, and you couldn't deny how gorgeous the sight of it was. He reached for one of your hands, giving it a light squeeze, holding it for the rest of the car ride, and then again as you walked through the streets together, window shopping.
The city of Lucerne really was like a fairy tale. The old buildings, the crystal blue lake, and the mountains in the distance were the perfectly romantic setting for your time with him. In front of that amazing backdrop, he truly looked like a prince. 
As sad and angry as you'd been the past month, now that your hand was in his, on this beautiful honeymoon, just enjoying the scenery, you couldn’t find the energy to harbor any resentment towards him. Although you still had a lot to learn about each other, you realized you could enjoy his company more than you expected. Either that, or it was just hard to be mad when you were in such a lovely place. 
You'd been walking together in comfortable silence for a while, just appreciating the city, when he told you, “If you see something you like, tell me and we can go inside for you to try it on.”  
As nice as it was, you knew you weren't actually going to go inside any of those shops. They were all high end designer outlets, the kinds of places you hadn't been to since your family was actually doing well. 
Baekhyun saw the way you shook your head, turning your eyes to the pavement in front of you. You felt him abruptly stop, your hand still in his. 
“What?” 
“Now that we're married, you don't need to worry about all of that anymore. Your family wasn't so insistent on you marrying me just so that they could finally pay off their debts, you know. They want a better life for you, too.” 
“Yeah well they have a funny way of showing it.” You mumbled, not even trying to hide the bitterness in your voice. 
“Did you tell them you didn’t want to get married?” 
You scoffed, because of course you didn’t, and he should know that. You gave him a bit of a bitchy side eye and he seemed to get your point. 
“They know I would’ve much rather chosen my husband myself. But I wasn’t really given a choice, just like you.”
He mustered up a surprisingly sympathetic look, sitting you down with him on a nearby bench. 
“I’m not saying this to call you ungrateful, really, but I think we should remember how lucky we are. Because of our parents we got the best educations, grew up in nice homes, get to travel the world, and so on. Money isn't something we'll ever have to worry about. When they asked me to marry you, I didn’t fight them, because I know how much they’ve done for me.” 
You understood perfectly where he was coming from. However, despite it all, you still couldn't deny your disappointment. 
“I know it would've been selfish to refuse, and of course I am grateful to be this fortunate. That doesn't make it feel any less shitty, though. I always had such big dreams for how I would meet the love of my life and get married, and they know that. When they told me I should marry you, they knew it would be heartbreaking for me, they just didn't seem to care. They didn't even want to acknowledge it.” 
“I'm sorry. I can imagine how hard that would be, I want you to know that I don't blame you at all for being upset. I just want to do whatever I can now to hopefully make this better for you.” 
When you didn’t respond his hand was pulling you back up with him, “Come on, there’s a really great ice cream place nearby.” 
He was relieved to finally see you smile again, even though you rolled your eyes at him. “I’m not a little kid, you can’t manipulate me with ice cream.” 
“I’m not manipulating you! I just want to cheer you up.” 
At least the ice cream really was fantastic. 
Eventually you returned to the house, deciding to finish the champagne in the pool together, enjoying the view. You'd seen Baekhyun shirtless in the past, but it had been years, and you couldn't deny how great he looked as he joined you in the water, holding both of your glasses of bubbly. 
The mountain air was chilly on your upper half, and you sunk deeper into the warm water as he handed you your champagne. Steam rose from the water into the cold air creating a wispy fog, the sun barely peeking out from behind the mountains as it set. 
You said cheers, clinking the glasses together, giving Baekhyun a funny look at how intently he insisted on making eye contact before bringing his glass up to meet yours. 
“You know why Germans are so insistent on eye contact when cheersing right?” He asked before taking his first sip. 
“No..?” 
His eyes widened ever so slightly, surprised, to say the least. 
“Oh… uhh, never mind.” 
“No, tell me!” 
This time, he was definitely blushing, “Ok but don't get mad at me! I was joking… I didn't think I'd have to explain it..” 
“So..?” 
He sighed, ready for you to scoff at his lame attempt at flirting with you. “In Germany, it's said that if you don't make eye contact while cheersing with someone, you'll have seven years of bad sex.” 
To his surprise, you actually let out a small laugh, again meeting his eyes and holding his gaze intently as you clinked your glass to his one more time. 
It had to be the atmosphere, both of you barely clothed in your swimsuits, the alcohol, the sunset, and the view of the mountains. That had to be it, that had to be why you were going along with everything he said so easily. Because at the end of the day, you both knew well what he was implying. He was your husband, and you his wife. Unless you both planned on cheating, which to your understanding still wasn’t acceptable despite the nature of the marriage, he would be the only one you'd be having sex with anytime soon. 
You kept slowly sipping on your drink, enjoying the calmness and beauty of the landscape. This time, the silence between him and yourself actually felt comfortable. 
“Do you really think that it's possible for us to eventually be happy, like any other married couple? You know as if we'd actually chosen this for ourselves?” You eventually asked. 
“Yeah, I definitely think it's possible.” 
“You really mean that?” 
He shrugged, and nodded. “I don't want this to sound too forward, but that's part of why I wasn't too upset about the marriage. I would've liked to marry someone I chose myself, just like you, but in our situation I think we still have a good chance at making it work. Even though we've never been particularly close, I feel like I know you fairly well, because of our families. I know that we had similar upbringings, share the same basic values, things like that, and those things really matter in a partnership. You're beautiful too, which definitely helps.”
“Thank you… I've never really thought about it like that.”
‘You’re beautiful.’ Those words had a greater effect on you than you expected.
His eyes had been fixed on the sun setting over the mountains, but slowly he turned back towards you. “Do you find me attractive, at least physically?” 
His sudden question left you dumbfounded. The answer was so obvious but the way he asked you truly didn't sound cocky at all. You had to stop yourself from making a dumb joke considering his abs were currently glistening in the light of the setting sun and his face looked like something out of a magazine. 
“Baekhyun, you know you're a good looking guy.” 
“Well, some women are more into big muscles, or really tall guys, or a more rugged “manly” look. I could still not be your type.” 
You shook your head, feeling the way your cheeks burned, knowing they were probably bright red. You kept your eyes glued on the valley below, avoiding the way you knew he was looking at you. “You definitely are my type, at least when it comes to looks.” 
You expected him to say something cocky and smug but instead he just smiled at you when you finally met his gaze again, seeming genuinely happy and relieved by your answer. 
“I appreciate that.”
It occurred to you then that despite the champagne, his words and eyes on you made you quite shy. He was simply an extremely handsome guy, and you found yourself having to fight the urge to downright ogle him. 
His broad shoulders and strong chest looked so inviting, the water on his skin adding a gorgeous sheen to his entire form. You wanted to touch him, to feel his skin against your own, and know how his slender hands would feel on your body. 
The view of the mountains was nice, but as the minutes flew by, your eyes kept traveling back to him. It didn't go unnoticed, as he felt himself slipping into similar thoughts as well. 
Maybe you really were just that easy to read, but it surprised you nonetheless when he stepped closer, taking your hand in his, before placing it on his chest. 
“Wh-what are you doing?”
Your eyes were stuck to his torso, heart beating rapidly at the knowledge of his eyes gazing down at you, his heartbeat under your hand a comforting reminder of the shared tension. His gentle touch on your chin triggered a small gasp, and he finally guided your face up towards his own where he could look at you, and you at him.
Being so close now, you noticed the scattered moles painting little constellations across his face. Each one appeared to have been placed with purpose, further adding to the near perfect harmony of his stunning features. 
When his eyes shifted downwards ever so slightly, gaze falling to your lips, you stopped breathing. You could smell him, so sweet and inviting, every minute aspect of his presence pulling you in. 
“Can I kiss you?” 
His eyes bore into your own again, and you could feel the magnetism between you both. All you gave him was a small nod, but that was enough, his lips meeting yours. 
This was so different, so much better than when you'd kissed before at your wedding. His chest under your palm felt warm and firm, the taste and smell of him surrounding you, easily letting you melt into him. His lips were soft, and the lack of clothing, the feel of his wet skin against your own, made you shiver despite the hot pool. 
Growing increasingly overwhelmed, you pulled away, red faced and genuinely a little embarrassed to have given into him so quickly. You quickly grabbed your glass and downed the rest of your champagne.
Baekhyun, however, saw right through you. He gave you a knowing smirk, he knew you were still skeptical of him and the marriage, but that didn't mean you weren't attracted to each other. Being half naked in a pool with a view definitely helped set the mood, too. 
“What? There's no reason to get shy now.” 
Still, you turned away from him, bracing both hands on the edge of the pool as you fixed your eyes back onto the mountains and valley below. 
“Hm? What's wrong?” 
His breath on the back of your neck sent a shiver down your spine, surprised by the proximity. Gently, he brushed your hair aside, giving himself access to whisper in your ear. 
“As odd as it might feel to be married, as husband and wife, there's no use in denying that we're attracted to each other.” 
He didn't miss the way you whimpered when his lips gently grazed the sensitive skin just below your ear, turning your head to grant him more access. 
He took that as his sign to continue, leaving a trail of kisses along the side of your neck, his lips growing bolder as the minutes passed. Soon he was sucking and biting at the spot on your neck that made your knees weak, and his hands slowly came to rest on your hips, leaving you every chance to stop him, but you did no such thing. 
Maybe it was just how pent up you were after not having sex for so long, and barely even having an opportunity to touch yourself, but you found yourself squeezing your thighs together, trying to relieve some of the ache that was starting to form between them. 
When one of his hands left your hip, instead coming to your jaw, turning your head to grant him access to kiss you again, you easily let him. The kiss was nothing sweet, desperate and hungry as you both fought for dominance, though Baekhyun quickly took the upper hand, not that you minded. 
“Can I touch you?” He asked the second your lips parted. 
“You are touching me.” 
“That's not what I mean.” 
His hand moved slowly down the front of your body, the soft touch making your head spin, until his delicate fingers began to play with the waistband of your bikini. 
He resumed the movement of his lips on your neck, soon coming to whisper in your ear, “May I?” 
You nodded, breath shaking, and let out a soft moan when his fingers finally pushed beneath the wet fabric. His first touch against your clit sent a jolt through you, and you didn't miss his soft chuckle before pressing his lips against you for the nth time. 
The way he nibbled and sucked at the skin of your neck combined with the soft circles his fingers made on your clit, were nothing short or euphoric. You leaned back into his chest, quiet moans and whimpers filling the air. Being touched like this from behind had always been a big turn on for you. He already made you feel so weak under his touch. 
Baekhyun was obsessed with all of the delicate sounds escaping your lips, sounds that proved how much you were enjoying what he did to you. The more he listened, the more he felt himself grow needy for more.
A breath got stuck in your throat when he pushed his hips forward, letting you feel his hardness against your ass. Even through his swim trunks, you could tell he was big. 
With his cock pressed to your ass and his fingers moving perfectly between your thighs, you were already losing any rationality you’d once possessed. When his other hand untied the knot of your top and began to tease your nipples, you couldn’t bring yourself to worry about how exposed you were, outside in the open. You knew you would be pushed over the edge sooner rather than later if he kept it up, and he did. 
“Are you gonna come for me, baby?” He whispered in your ear, the smirk on his lips apparent in his voice. 
You nodded frantically, warmth bubbling up inside you, turning into a searing heat. 
“Good girl, let go, I got you.” 
His fingertips slipped across your clit just right, one hand pinching and twisting the sensitive nub on your chest. Your whimpers grew into delighted moans, the craving for even more growing almost unbearable. The promise of eventually having his length inside you was what pushed you over the edge, shaking and twitching in Baekhyun's arms as you fell. 
“Fuck.” He whispered into the crook of your neck. “You're really sexy, you know that? Can't wait to be inside you.” 
The combination of his words and breath against your heated skin prolonged your pleasure, nodding to show him just how badly you wanted him, too. 
As soon as his hand withdrew from between your legs you turned towards him, throwing your arms around his neck to pull him into a heated kiss. It was messy, desperate, communicating the urgent need you both felt for more. His tongue greedily licked into your mouth before biting your lip, coaxing another weak moan from you. His hand on your thigh quickly had you wrapping both around him, and the feel of his substantial length and girth against your center, even through your bathing suits, left you panting, desperate for more. 
He put some pressure on you, pushing you against the edge of the pool, letting you feel even more of him. 
“Do you wanna go inside?” He whispered into your ear between kisses, but you didn't have the patience for that. 
You shook your head, “just fuck me right here.” 
His cocky smirk somehow had even more moisture flowing out of you, “as you wish.” 
With that, he undid the string of your bikini, and pushed down his shorts. 
You reached for him, intimidated by the size, hoping you would even be able to handle him. He was hot and hard in your hand, and you felt the telltale throb of his own arousal. 
Anticipation hung thick in the air as he positioned himself, his tip nudging against your clit, and you swore you were about to lose your goddamn mind. 
“You ready?” He questioned with an unexpected softness, forehead resting against your own. 
“Yes.” 
“You sure?” 
“Yes, Baekhyun, please.”
As soon as he pushed forward, however, you understood his desire to double check. His size presented quite the challenge, your eyes squeezing shut at the discomfort of being stretched so much. He could sense how you struggled to take him, hands digging into the skin of his back, legs squeezing involuntarily around his hips.
“Fuck you're so big.” 
“Just relax, I'll go slow. Tell me if it’s too much.” He said before pressing another kiss to your lips. 
You couldn't remember ever feeling so full, and he was still only halfway in. Slow, shallow thrusts carefully let you get used to him, going deeper with every roll of his hips. Soon tears pricked at your eyes, the new sensation of being fucked by such a huge cock leaving you awstruck. 
When he finally fit himself all the way inside of you, his hips meeting your own, you felt his head pressing firmly against your cervix. The slight pain of it heightened the already intense moment even further. 
“Oh my God.” 
He pulled almost all the way out, sinking himself all the way back inside, and you swore he had to have the best cock you’d ever fucked, by a mile. Any unpleasant thoughts surrounding your marriage to him were long gone as he set a steady rhythm, each thrust pulling gasps of pleasure from you. 
The water splashed wildly around you but you might as well have forgotten it was even there, too overcome with Baekhyun’s length as it pleased you in ways you never knew possible. The way he filled you so completely was unlike anything you’d experienced with another man, blissed out by his incredible size and precise thrusts. 
“You’re so perfect, take me so fucking well.” 
His lips crashed into yours, hot and greedy as you moaned into one another. You were certain you’d never felt anyone that deep inside you before, and it was addictive. 
“Think you can handle more?” He muttered, now that you’d gotten fully acclimated to his substantial length and girth. 
You nodded, greedy for anything and everything he could give, and Baekhyun wasn’t going to deny you. 
His lips swallowed more moans and cries of delight as he picked up the pace, thrusting harder, faster, feeling you clench down on him as you got closer to your release. 
Every time he sunk into you completely, he felt your body tremble in response to the intense sensations. As much as you wanted to keep your eyes open to look at him, you simply couldn't. The force with which he pounded you and how deep he reached left you an incoherent mess. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, desperate whimpers and whines leaving your parted lips. 
“Will my beautiful wife let me feel her cum on my cock? Hm?” 
Frantically, you nodded. With only a few more pumps into your dripping core he made you cum, so hard that you just about forgot your own name. 
Baekhyun let out a deep groan at how tightly you squeezed him when you came, the pulsating of your orgasming pussy bringing him to his peak soon after. His hips fell out of pace, eventually slowing to a stop as he emptied his cum deep inside.
It wasn't until you slowly started drifting back to reality that you realized you were still outside in the pool with him. 
You continued to cling to him, feeling him gradually soften and slip out of you. When his eyes found your own you both stared, panting, basking in the afterglow. 
You finally stood back on your own two feet, leaned back against the edge of the pool, and couldn’t fight the fit of laughter that came over you. 
Baekhyun stared at you, confused, unnerved, and slightly bewildered at your sudden outburst. 
“Jesus fucking Christ Byun! That might be the best sex I’ve ever had. No, it definitely was. I can’t believe you...” 
A relieved sigh escaped him, grinning at your admission. “Go on. I’d love to hear all your thoughts.” 
“Oh shut up you don’t need any more ego stroking with a dick like that.” 
He leaned in closer, bracing both hands on the edge of the pool at your sides. “Well you’ll be happy to know that this dick is all yours, till death do us part.” 
A genuine smile graced your lips, and this time as you looked at him, your new husband, you actually felt a little excited for what your future with him could hold. 
You leaned in, giving him a quick kiss. “It's only day one and you already succeeded at seducing me. I have to admit I feel a little pathetic.” 
“I didn’t seduce you.” 
“Oh yes you did! You got me half naked and drunk and started kissing my neck. That has to count.” 
“You only had one glass of champagne and we're in a pool, what else would we wear?!” 
You rolled your eyes. “Okay fine, but you still seduced me. Not that I mind, that was fucking incredible. I hope no one saw us, though.” 
Baekhyun just shrugged. “I doubt it, but if they did, we put on a pretty good show.” he smirked. 
“You’re unbelievable.” You laughed, enjoying the way he admired you. 
“I asked if you wanted to go inside, but someone was too impatient.” 
“You’re awful cocky, you know that?” 
Again, he shrugged, moving away from you to find his glass of champagne. He finished it, and since it was getting late, you both finally decided to get to bed. This time, the rose petals just made you giggle. Once you'd both settled in, you even found yourself inching closer to him, until one of his arms pulled you closer, wrapping around you. It was easy to fall asleep like that, in his embrace. 
~
The first night in a new bed was usually pretty rough, and the jet lag didn’t help. When you awoke in the early morning, you knew you wouldn’t be able to fall back asleep. 
Baekhyun had detached himself from you at some point during the night, the blanket bunching up around his waist. He seemed to still be resting peacefully, and you shamelessly enjoyed the view of his bare chest and sleeping face. Everything about him was just so gorgeous, it didn’t really make sense to you how you’d ended up with him like this. You’d been so pissed about the marriage for so long, but now a small smile crept to your lips as you watched him, his chest slowly rising and falling with every breath. 
You turned to fully face him, shifting around for a bit before settling into a comfortable position. From that point of view you could enjoy the profile of his face as he slept, taken with the seemingly perfect outlines of his jaw, nose, and lips. 
Minutes passed, dragging on painfully slow, and the sight in front of you definitely didn't help you get back to sleep. Images from your time in the pool with him kept resurfacing, along with the memory of how incredible he'd made you feel. You couldn’t understand how you hadn’t always wanted to touch him, even when he was more of a stranger to you. He was way too attractive to just ignore, you thought. Every cell in your body seemed to gravitate towards him, now that touching him was allowed, and even welcomed, holding yourself back was nearly torturous. 
You and him could nap during the day. Right now, you needed him to wake up. 
Carefully, you moved closer, molding your body to his, leaning in to press your lips to his neck. He stirred a bit, but didn’t wake up, so you went on to plant more kisses, moving down towards his chest. When you gently sucked on his collarbone, his eyes finally fluttered open. 
Much to your delight, he didn’t question your actions, or why you’d woken him up. He just took hold of your waist, pulling you on top of him, and into a kiss. You ended up straddling him, lips still locked as they moved together lazily. 
“Goodmorning,” He hummed, looking around at the dark bedroom. “Awake already? What time is it?” 
“Four? Five? I don't know.” 
“Why'd you wake me up?” He half groaned, half whined, voice rough due to the early hour. 
Instead of replying, you just kissed him again, kissing down to his jaw, then neck, moving your hips a little to make your intentions clear. 
“Ready for round two? Already?” 
“Shut up.” 
He chuckled, “Why don't you make me?”
You moved to bring your lips to his once more, but he stopped you, one finger pressing to your lips before they could make contact. You pouted.
“I have an even better idea.”
“Oh yeah?” 
A mischievous grin lifted his cheeks so prettily. 
“Sit on my face.” 
You froze, “Huh?” 
“You heard me. C’mere” 
He hoisted you up, eliciting a small shriek from you, but you didn’t let him take you all the way up the bed, instead settling atop in chest. 
“Are you serious?”
“Hmm I’m a hungry boy. Now come here.” 
His hands on your ass attempted to push you further up towards his face, but you stayed put. 
“I still have underwear on, dummy.” 
He looked down, narrowing his eyes when he spotted the lace that was, in fact, covering you. 
“Do you like this pair?” 
“Kinda? They’re a little old I guess, why do you-” 
Before you could finish his hands were taking hold of the flimsy fabric, easily ripping it and tossing it to the side. 
“Baekhyun! Are you out of your mind? Why-” 
He cut you off again, hoisting you up by your ass till your thighs were on either side of his head. 
“Don’t worry baby, I’ll buy you new ones.” 
With that his arms circled your thighs, pulling you down, until your center met his hot tongue. 
You inhaled sharply, bracing your hands against the wall as he licked and prodded at your clit. It was soft, teasing, wanting to warm you up before showing you what he was really capable of. When you would start to whine and plead for more, he would pull away entirely, instead leaving kisses on your inner thighs, letting the anticipation grow until it was nearly unbearable. 
Until then you'd still been hovering, not wanting to smother him, but when you once again began to whimper and ask for more, he told you, “I’ll give you what you want if you just sit.” 
“But-” 
Without giving you a chance to protest his strong arms, still wrapped around your thighs, yanked you down roughly. At last you got the kind of pressure you needed, putting some weight on him, no longer caring if he could breathe or not. His hums of pleasure made it clear that either way, he was enjoying this as much as you were. 
He lapped at your clit with greed, happily drinking you in. Every gasp, sigh, and groan he drew from you egged him on, eagerly awaiting your release, wanting nothing more than the taste of your delight flooding his tongue. When he transitioned from mere licking to sucking your bud past his lips, he felt your thighs shake, gripping them so tightly you almost wondered if it could bruise. In your ecstasy, however, there was no place for such thoughts. You were too preoccupied with your building orgasm. 
His fingers earlier in the pool had been fantastic, but his tongue and lips were on a whole new level entirely. The way the warm muscle flicked at your most sensitive spot was absolutely perfect, and when combined with the suction of his lips, you almost couldn’t handle it. He could tell you were getting close when you began to rock your hips against his tongue, silently begging for even more, and he was eager to deliver. 
He picked up the pace, suckling harder, licking faster, and he reveled in the increased volume of your moans as you got lost in it. When the moans were silenced, replaced instead with sharp gasps, he knew you were on the precipice. He didn’t falter, if anything, he gave you even more. 
Seconds later you fell apart, twitching and shaking while he still didn’t stop, the sensation flooding your body with relief and joy until it slowly became too much. Baekhyun still had a firm hold of your thighs, and he moaned with delight at the taste of your orgasm on his tongue. He kept lapping at your tired pussy, not wanting to let a single drop go to waste, until you basically begged him for a break. 
When his hold on your thighs finally weakened, you sat back, your ass landing on his chest eliciting a grunt from him. You looked down at your husband's face and he was beaming, lips and chin still wet with your arousal. You grinned right back, watching as he wiped his face with the back of his hand. 
Again, all you could do was laugh, and this time he happily joined you. 
“You know, I really hadn't expected all of this to happen on our first night here.” You told him. 
“Neither did I.”
He was still smiling up at you, now just watching, admiring you, and when he still didn't look away after several seconds had passed you started to feel shy. 
You rolled off of him, one arm covering your eyes as you basked in the unexpected comfort of the moment. Eventually you felt him move your arm away and his face was hovering above your own, slowly moving closer until he was kissing you. It was slow, relaxed, just enjoying the closeness as you gradually recovered from the heated moment. 
You felt him shift, realizing that he was adjusting himself beneath his silk pajama pants, and your hand followed. His eyes fluttered shut when you palmed him, and he took the hint, discarding the shirt you still wore before stripping himself. 
Wet lips met the sensitive skin of your neck as he positioned himself between your thighs, the heat and weight of him above you somehow making your heart race even more. His fingers entered you first, stretching you out to get you ready to take him. He started with two, soon adding a third as he leaned up slightly, watching your flushed form squirm and whimper beneath him. It was a sight that didn’t help his patience one bit, throbbing as he thought about getting to be inside you again so soon. 
It wasn’t long until Baekhyun assumed you were ready, that or he just didn’t want to wait any longer. Both of his hands found yours, lacing them together and pressing them to the bed above your head. His eyes were on yours, dark with lust as you felt him push inside, the stretch again making you wince, though you easily powered through, too enticed by what was to come to even consider stopping him. He rocked into you, getting deeper with each push, until he was burying himself into you entirely with each roll of his hips. 
This time, he was slower, savoring the way your tight walls hugged him, in contrast to the frenzied passion of the evening prior. You sighed gratefully each time he hit that spot inside you, appreciating the unhurried pace he set as he continued to thrust. Your previous orgasm left you especially sensitive, and you seemed to be floating on a cloud of pure bliss while he steadily fucked you, the euphoria of it reaching even greater hights than before. 
His size was one thing, but Baekhyun was also just good. He knew how to angle himself to make you feel just right, keeping a steady pace to allow the pleasure to build. 
“You feel amazing, so tight and wet for me.” He whispered into your ear, and your knuckles paled with how hard you gripped his hands. 
Normally faster, rougher sex was what you preferred, but now, with him, you couldn’t help but think that this slower, more relaxed approach was even better. Maybe it was because it was so early, and you were still a little tired, but this felt nothing short of perfect. Baekhyun was taking care of you so well, listening to your body, and giving exactly what you needed. 
Your orgasm was getting close again, warmth growing into a burning heat in the pit of your stomach, but as soon as you started to clench around him, about to let go, he pulled out. 
He chuckled softly at the way you whined in protest, but assured you, “Just trust me, this will be even better.” 
He stood on his knees and straddled one of your thighs, bringing the other leg over his shoulder before pushing back in. With the same leisurely pace from earlier he continued on, the new angle making you feel him even deeper. 
When you started to whimper and ask for him to go faster, he just shushed you, pushing his hips into you slower, but harder, leaving you with little room to protest. Either way, it was divine, and you knew he’d easily get you there in the end. After a while you decide that whatever he had in mind, you would happily accept it. He made you feel so damn good, you trusted him to take you however he saw fit. 
His thrusts were steady, letting you chase your orgasm, but when you started to get close he pulled out again, leaving you shaking and whining and clenching around nothing. 
One hand came to rest on your cheek and his forehead met your own, prompting you to open your eyes and meet his. He stared for a second before pressing a quick kiss to your lips and whispering, “Turn around for me baby.” 
You obliged, rolling onto your stomach, and you felt him straddle you, leaning down to leave a trail of kisses along your shoulder. Without any warning he filled you once again, and this time when he bottomed out, the increased pressure against your cervix made your stomach tighten, the pain almost too much for you. 
His moans and grunts made it clear that he, too, felt the added pressure, making sure not to press too hard, to be gentle as he continued working his way in and out, his eyes fixed to the view of your ass and his length plunging in and out of you. Every time he sank himself inside completely he felt the way his tip would reach the bottom, savoring the feeling while doing his best to not hurt you in any real way. 
Little did he know, you enjoyed the intensity of it, and your high was approaching even quicker than before. He’d been edging you for so long, all you cared about was getting your release. He could’ve fucked you as fast and hard as he wanted and the pain still wouldn’t have stopped you from cumming all over his length. 
But Baekhyun was cautious nonetheless, filling you in the same relaxed manner, wanting you to feel as good as possible, to prolong your pleasure, without bringing it to an end just yet. He, too, was enjoying himself far too much to rush this. 
However he soon felt the same tell-tale throb that your orgasm was quickly approaching, so he pulled out once again. 
Once he’d turned you over, settling back between your thighs, he took in your fucked out expression, eyes softening at just how desperate you looked. 
“Does my baby want to cum?” 
You nodded, frantic. “Please, Baekhyun.” 
He placed a tender kiss to your lips, then your forehead, before pushing forwards to fill you up. This time as he kept moving you could feel the difference, and you knew he was getting close to his own release. His thrusts were less consistent, and he became shaky, gasping and moaning more freely than before. 
For you it came as a relief, knowing that it wouldn’t be long until you finally got your long awaited high. You weren’t sure how much more you could take, more than ready for him to finally just fuck you through your orgasm, and let you feel his release, too. 
The push and stretch of his length inside you, the angle of it, and his entirety surrounding you, the heat and weight and smell of him, they all became too much. When he finally let you reach your peak it was strong, blinding you and making your skin tingle with the intensity. Every time he’d denied you he’d built the tension to such a degree that when it was finally released, it was otherworldly. Broken versions of his name passed your lips, though you weren’t conscious of it, the wave of pleasure leaving no room for coherent thought, only gratitude for the incredible feeling after having been deprived. 
He didn’t stop when he felt the obvious pulsating and twitching of your orgasm, he continued to chase his own high, which came soon after. He’d been holding himself back, so when it finally hit him, the burst of euphoria was explosive. As he shuddered apart his lips crashed into yours, hungry and rough as they sought greater contact, something to communicate how much it affected him. 
The kisses became more relaxed as you both slowly drifted back to reality, until he finally collapsed on top of you, burying himself in the crook of your neck. Gently kisses were peppered across your skin, each one paired with some sweet words, “So beautiful, so perfect, so good for me.” 
After some time his weight above you lost its charm, turning sweaty and uncomfortable prompting him to roll off you, though you still desired some contact. Your head rested atop his chest, and the feeling of his hand on your waist was a welcome comfort. 
Something about this just felt right to you. Your marriage to him, now, came as more of a relief than anything else. You knew that after having him, nobody else would ever be able to compare. As sure as you’d been that the jet lag would keep you up until daylight, his embrace ended up luring you into a peaceful sleep in mere minutes. 
As it turned out, your honeymoon ended up being a beautiful experience full of gorgeous scenery, plentiful laughter, and amazing sex. Most days were spent strolling through town, enjoying the spa and pool at the house, and in bed with your new husband. 
He was fun, maybe a little cocky, but you couldn't blame him for that, everything considered. At the end of the day, he was always sweet to you, and never acted truly arrogant in any way. Confident, that was how you would describe him, and that confidence came as a comfort for you. He was confident in himself, yes, but he also showed a lot of confidence and optimism towards his relationship with you. 
The initial awkwardness disappeared completely after your encounter in the pool. The sex had been great, but more importantly, it brought your guard down. You quickly became far more comfortable around him, and as the days passed, he started to feel like a genuine friend. A friend, who also gave you the best sex of your life. 
While it may have still been early in the relationship, by the time you were flying back home with him, you felt confident, too. 
You'd make it work with Baekhyun, your new husband. 
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