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ybklix · 5 months ago

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playing with his hair

giirrrl idk, a feral thought maybe; bf!felix x fem!reader w his long hair since i’m too lazy to make it a whole detail fic for now lol so, (i deadass tried to make it a drabble but it pass the 1k words😮‍💨)

genre - warnings: smut, fluff!! dry humping, handjob, grinding, unprotected piv, mention of cockwarming, idol bf felix btw

word count: 1.6k

a/n: this is what i have to deal with everyday, actually, oopsies, he’s next to me rn! also writing in present it’s so new, I like to read it when yall write like that, but I’ll stick with past tense😁 edit: girl i had this in the drafts for days, but he was a little too happy in his recent promoting video, he’s sleeping outside, someone pick him up /jk srly pls

Felix likes to try new hairstyles ever since he let grow his hair, he feels very confident with it and likes the way you randomly stroke it every time you’re together.

Your idea of fun is one of those very rare free afternoons for him since he’s all the time busy at work; it’s when you’re just chilling together at your place because you feel too lazy to go out but very comfortable with each other’s company.

Your days are simple, and your hours with him are very limited but he always makes sure to enjoy being with him; so you try to do everything at once, watch a movie, talk, lay on his chest while he’s playing games on his cell phone… and suddenly, just playing around, with you sitting on his lap in front of him, giggling while playing with his hair.

“Fuck, your hair is so fried” you tease him with a smile, looking at your fingers entangling with his straight hair.

He pouts, “Stop, then don’t touch it…” he responds also joking, just watching you with heart and sparkling eyes.

Felix rests his hands on your tights and caresses them softly. You down your gaze to meet his, he’s suddenly looking at you so sweetly that makes your cheeks get a little warm.

“Can I play with it?” you asked joyfully.

“With what?”

“Your hair” you replied in an obvious tone, “I can do pigtails, braids, middle part, side part” you continue to say, laughing while playing with his hair.

Felix chuckles softly, completely in love, closing his eyes sometimes, then looking up at your arms.

“Wait here” you speak again, standing up from his lap and going to get a comb, hair ties, bobby pins and some random hair clips to take pictures of him just for fun.

“You can also do my make-up if you want” he comments, raising his thick voice so you can hear him.

You sit back down on his lap.

“Oh no, you wear makeup almost every day, let your face rest today” you answer, kissing him tenderly on the bridge of his nose, hiding a little bit the fact that you love seeing your boyfriend’s bare face, straight black eyelashes, big dark eyes, full lips, cheeks and nose with freckles all over.

You laugh at doing whatever you want with his hair, taking silly pictures every time you find him adorable, just giggling saying your favorite inside jokes, then ending with a bow on his hair.

“You can really use me, huh” Felix says, giving you a funny but adorable look with his eyes wide open.

Felix starts caressing your back, with more consistent and intense caresses and he suddenly realizes how you haven’t kissed each other on the lips the whole time, so he moves closer to you and you without hesitation receive his kiss, following a tender and slow rhythm at first, pressing your lips together in a delicate lip rubbing, but you’re a bit desperate when it comes to each other, so your boyfriend catches his breath between kisses and looks himself at the work of being more glued and pouncing on you, with his touches all over your body, from your thighs to your back, slipping his hands under your blouse to feel your bare skin.

Your make out starts to heat up precipitously that you can feel the growing erection in his shorts, so, with your hands wrapped around his neck, you begin to move over his cock, pressing it to your core and stimulating you both. At this point, your pussy is throbbing and you feel slightly heated. You’re always impressed by how incredibly fast you want and desire him. You both moan softly at the friction. As you pull apart you smile slightly mischievously at him and for some reason you start kissing his neck, which Felix loves so, causing him to give you a huge tender smile showing his teeth, clutching his grip on your hips tighter.

You pull away once more to meet the wide grin on his face, which gently turns into a slightly strained expression as you continue to move your body against his erection, Felix gasps, his lips forming a soft expression of satisfaction this time with his submissive facing enjoying the naughty act of crushing his cock with your center, with your clothes on.

“Fuck, baby, it feels so good” Felix sighs, biting his slightly swollen, full lips, lowering his gaze to your pussy being trapped in him, moving his erection back and forth, guiding your hips for better movement.

You smile satisfactorily at him in response, each time feeling the heat of your body and pussy brush against your panties, wetting them all over, just playing more with your arousal. You see him, he looks so fucking cute and yet so hot with the last few hairstyles you gave him, two little high ponytails with bows leaving the rest of his hair loose, he looked silly cute, but serious manly moans coming out of him contrasts somehow so perfectly.

Felix sighs again sonorously, his legs shaking a little, he doesn’t think he can take it long enough without cumming if you keep moving so dedicatedly on him so he speaks again:

“Mmm, c’mon baby, take off your clothes, or do you want me to take you to bed.”

A pleasant shock goes through your body as you hear him a little more needy, you’re not thinking straight and you don’t want to pull away from him so you just reply a simple, “It’s okay like this, Lix.”

With your heart beating fast you grab his shorts, indicating you want to pull them down, Felix helps you right away, releasing his pink, needy, throbbing cock, you look down at his member and then at the same time you join gazes, Felix looks at you so needy and innocent, his big eyes begging you to touch him, you can’t help but melt every time he does that and in a needy sigh, with your cheeks a little red, you stand up, embarrassed, pulling down your comfy cloth shorts along with your panties, climbing back onto his lap, catching your boyfriend licking his lips at the sight of your cute bare mons venus.

Felix smiles, so excited at the thought of feeling you on him again, now with the sensation of your warm wet center in him, he gets more excited at the thought that you were finally going to settle on him ready to fuck, however, you start pumping his entire erect length, making him gasp loudly as he throws his head back, marking his bulging Adam's apple in his throat. Felix returns to his posture, looking straight into you with desire, biting his lip as you with a smile, touch all over his cock, stroking his tip gently with your fingers, feeling his stiffness and the slight sticky precum sliding down your hand as you jerk him off.

You’re so wet, and Felix is getting over the edge, so you finally accommodate your body, squeezing your pussy tighter on his cock, grinding on it a little before you put his cock inside you, encouraging in him more arousal if that was possible, teasing him and you at the sensation of his dick rub between your labia, until you feel his throbbing member so foreplayed, and until you see your boyfriend’s sweet expression as he can’t resist anymore and, finally you insert his rigid manhood completely in you. The temperature of both your bodies rises, it feels so fucking good to be filled by him, every move you make comes out of pure bliss, panting, sliding on his cock in a rhythm that makes him shudder and moan; Felix feels every part of his body beat intensely, enjoying every thrust into him.

“Oh, fuck, l-ove, ke-keep going please, I’m gonna cum, fuuck” he whimpers, desperate in a high-pitched tone, closing his eyes.

Felix thinks about the idea of cumming all of him inside you, of filling you up, brings him to a better ecstasy and in a thick sigh of relief and satisfaction, he manages to cum, relaxing a bit all the tension built in his body, making his thighs restless in soft tingling and trembling. You rest your hands on his shoulders and hide your face on the side of his neck, moaning close to his ear and with your face brushing against his soft hair, gently overwhelming you with his sweet scent, you bite your lip at the sensation of his hot semen shooting inside you and you also sense you’re so close to your climax that, despite being slightly tired, you intensify and increase each movement, sliding a little more slippery as you are filled with his cum. You hug him without thinking, your walls squeeze his sensitive cock still stuck in your core, you’re climaxing so intensely that you open your mouth almost in an inaudible squeal, your vision blurs for a few seconds and you let yourself release completely onto your boyfriend.

You feel the joining of agitated chests and breaths, Felix hug you warmly wrapping your back, once again your body melts at the slightest touch of his, but you can’t help but feel him so close to you, acting tenderly. Felix doesn’t even have to say it, but you know he loves you, you feel it too, so you relax your body on top of him, stroke his hair and he gives you a soft kiss on your shoulder as he caresses your back and keeps you in such a vulnerable position with both sexes together, with you on top of him until you decide to move.

——————-

𐙚TAGLIST: @rylea08 @hann1bee @iovecb97 @armystay89 @bubblebisk

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unripe-lemon · 8 months ago

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Since i know no one will see this:

1 note and i will email my therapist

ok so for this one,, like since then i have emailed my therapist?? that counts right????? tbh i dont even know what to talk abt anymore, but i do have a session with her so dw

2 notes and ill put my laundry away

ugh….. stupid. internet.. making me do things that will make my life easier…. gugh yeah i put my laundry away!!!!! everyone clap now

5 notes and ill try to brush my teeth more often

ok so like for this one i found this video https://youtu.be/pvutTiPY7q8?si=PASnBmUXZ0xiHzWM imma sing this song to myself every tike i dont feel like brushing my teeth

youtube

6 notes and ill try to put on cream for my dermatitis (anxiety hives!!! yayyy!!!!) more often

just did it hehe :) tho it is getting a little worse and my kitten scratched me on top of it 😭

10 notes and ill attempt to learn my timestables

11 notes and ill study for my exams

my exams are over!!!! so idk what to do for this one? maybe ill go do my homework instead

20 notes and ill try to go one day without using my pc/phone

30 notes and ill vaccum (more bc we just adopted kittens) my room entirely

40 notes and ill try to explain my depression to my mom again

50 notes and ill clean my locker out at school

imma do this tmr!!!

i forgot 😭 someone remind me

80 notes and ill fix the posters that are falling off of my wall and are probably going to rip soon

doing this rn! taking dinner break

100 notes and ill REALLY unpack everything with my therapist

maybe tmr?

we talked about medication and kittens, also exams so like success??

200 notes and ill ask my mom if we can go to my go and get! me! medicated!

ill discuss w therapist tmr

discussed with therapist, we are now getting the conversation started with my mom and are going to see what my gp says after that!! :) ty to everyone in the notes rooting for meds

300 notes and ill re organise my bookshelf

400 notes and ill clean all of the mold off of my wall

damn 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 ion wannaaaaaaaa

this is a weekend activity tbh, and idk if its even going to BE this weekend :P

500 notes and ill clean the mold off of my roof

600 notes and ill try sewing some new clothes

i crocheted a scarf!!! does that count?

700 notes and ill buy some new shoes

800 notes and ill check out dnd club at school (im scared)

900 notes and ill come up with more goals

edit: bro……. 😭

so im gonna take my time w these bc there is a lot to go thru!! i will try my best to remember to update!!! ty for notes :)

- random internet stranger

edit 2: WTF 1000 NOTES GUYS CHILL

ok so like i have to come up with more goals now???

1500 and ill start taking study notes with a study method (rb with study method that is your fav eg cornell method)

1700 and ill attempt to hype myself up enough to eat at school (long story, germs)

2000 notes and ill start whatever book wins this poll:

#funny #lol #meme #<- since i know no one will see this i may aswell give it a chance right?#dont make me get my life together im begginf 😭😭#Youtube

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mysicklove · 1 year ago

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𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆

DAY 14: LEG HUMPING

With: Ryomen Sukuna

Word Count: 4.4k (wow)

Warnings: Sub! Sukuna, Gn! Reader, Yuuji and reader r dating (Yuuji x reader), lots of threatening of death/small violent acts,, reader slaps him, sukuna has 2 cocks in his true form, heavy power dynamics, mention of subspace, previous cuffing, small mounts of blood

A/N: i feel like i wrote this while i was high, but i was sober. idk. this is unedited but i will edit it tomorrow morning

“I fucking hate you, you know that? Despise every cell of your body.”

You hold back a laugh, running your fingers through his hair, which earns another near animalistic growl. “Well aren't you dramatic, King of Curses. Where did my Yuuji go?”

Sukuna glares up at you, lips curling upward. He was kneeling, with his hands chained behind his back, while you sit on a chair, crossed legged. He was in the position Yuuji was in seconds ago. The position that Yuuji asked to be put in. Sukuna, obviously did not agree to this arrangement.

Yuuji must have lost control when he sank into the subspace. Just for a second, which was all the curse needed to arise. He was watching the entire time, snickering when Yuujis begs got too dramatic, or joining in on the unwelcomed degradation when the boy started to cry.

But the only time the king was silent was when you spoke. He would conjur himself on Yuujis arm, face, hand, and just listen.

His vessel was a pervert, really, and you were too. He watched the boy go through the most humiliating things, and still he would always end up begging for more. The curse would rather die than to steep as low as Yuuji did. It was pathetic, truly.

But sometimes, when Sukuna sticks around for too long, he finds himself hypnotized by your voice. It was always so soft with Yuuji, full of adoration, but he could not miss the authority that oozed from your tone. Strict rules that were meant to be followed, commands that were not dared questioned, and punishments that were no empty threats. He was there when Yuuji was also punished, in those rare times. They were not fun, even if the brat held a raging hard on through it all.

But overall, Sukuna was strangely enamored by your character. He was always top dog, the strongest, the king of curses, but what about you sends a shiver down his spine? Why does he want to hear your doting words? Not to Yuuji, but to him.

Sukuna realized not long after having these thoughts that he wants to fuck you. Or maybe just get a handjob while you whisper lewd things in his ear, the way you did to the brat. Or maybe you'll wrap your lips around his dick if he was to play nice for a bit.

It will be just a one time thing. Just so he knows for sure that he doesnt want you. Yuujis thoughts of you must be clouding his. Tonight he was here to confirm.

“Brats gone. You’ve broke him or something. Humans do that,” Sukuna pipes up, rolling his eyes, and glancing back at the cuffs he has on. He rips them off without hesitation, sending the metal falling to the ground.

Sukuna was lying. Yuuji barely was dipping into the subspace, and you know his limits well enough. Sukuna was out because he wants to be out with you. But alas, you want to see how far this will go, so you continue to play with him. A fake pout covers your face and you sigh. “Those were Yuujis favorite cuffs, was that necessary?” Not a lie.

Sukuna dramatically stretches his hands out, cracking his knuckles and rolling his shoulders. He still remains on his knees. “Annoying things. Not like they would work on me.”

“Yeah, because they weren't for you.”

He stares at you, flashing his teeth. “He could have broken out of them too.”

“But he wouldn't have. He is good.” Your foot presses on his thigh, where it was previously resting, and Sukuna raises an eyebrow at you. You were into this, he could tell.

But he wasnt going to let you know, that he was also strangely intrigued as to what was going on right here. So, he rolls his eyes, and shifts under your foot, but doesn't move completely. “Doesnt fucking matter. Whatever. Brats pathetic.”

“He’s not. Dont be an ass,” You sigh, leaning back into your chair, and cracking a smile at the ceiling while you think about the scene that is about to unfold. Never would you have thought he would be coming to you. You always had small fantasies of fucking Sukuna, but you would never act on them, frankly because you knew that the curse wasnt interested. He was the one to nearly spit on the two of you during these times. But now, the cards were in his hands.

Sukuna’s hands creep onto your lower leg, and you try your best to ignore it. His nails gently scratch over your skin, and you dont dare to move. Instead, you let out a dramatic breath, and then press onto his thigh again. “Now what do I do…” You, very obviously, prompt, and Sukuna wants to roll his eyes.

“You want me to fuck you, that right?” He in turn teases, seeing if you will take the bait. The both of you are teetering on ice, waiting for eachothers next move.

To this, you lean forward, resting your arms on your knees so that you are face to face with the curse. He doesn't even flinch, just stares with an amused expression, while your fingers trail along his jaw. “But thats not what you want, is it?” You purr, face nearly inches from his. “And besides…Thought you hated me?”

He grins at you, smile borderline predatory. “I do. You make my vessel do disgusting things.”

“You watch us a lot, don't you Sukuna?”

He falters for a second, and then suddenly he feels your foot moves from his thigh, and toward his boxers. Yuuji was only wearing his black briefs when he was sent to Sukuna's domain. “Do you get off to it?”

The familiar glare replaces the smile, and his nails dig into your skin, harsh in warning, but not enough to draw blood. “As if. You two make me sick. You are corrupting the brat. You're disgusting.”

He can tell he is beginning to tick you off, but he does not mind, especially the way your foot slowly begins to press down on his cock. “Then why are you here Sukuna?”

“To fuck you,” He quips, rolling his eyes as if it was the obvious – he did already tell you this. The hand on your leg doesn't let up, and he hitches a breath when you step almost uncomfortably hard on him. A shiver runs down his spine, and he loathes the fact that maybe he is getting off to this.

“And why would I allow you to?”

But alas, his pride would never let up. “Allow me to? You think you can tell me what to do all of the sudden. I could kill you in a heartbeat.”

You roll your eyes at his bared teeth and the narrowed red eyes that are looking up toward you. “You are the one kneeling before me.”

He doesn't move from his position and the two of you stare in silence. You restrain from voicing your approval, not wanting to piss the already tempermental curse off.

Sukuna sighs and taps on the skin of your leg, signalling you to continue. “Get on with it. I want to see how gross your desires can be.”

“Will you be good for me and listen?”

“Is that what the boy does?”

You cock your head to the side, fighting the urge to furrow your eyebrows at him. “Yuuji? You know the answer to that question, you voyeur.”

The curse pinches at his brow, obviously peeved by your statement, and you cant help but giggle lightly at hin. “Not a voyeur. Just want…Whatever. Now for fucks sake, do something. Yes, yes I'll listen, do you want me to bark or some shit? I am not as pathetic and moldable as your other toy.”

The slap comes quick, sending a stinging sensation to his cheek, and Sukunas eyes nearly pop out of his head. He slowly brings his hands up to his face, touching the now pinkened skin, before turning to you. He didnt even have time to process it, or get angry about it, before you spoke. "Enough with the insults to Yuuji. Are you looking for some sort of attention?”

“Fuc-”

Another slap directly to the same spot, and Sukuna knows this time that he could have blocked it. You were a human, your attacks were slow, weak. But he didnt block. He let you do this. He was going mad, he had to be.

His face stings, and your hand comes forward to grip at his jaw. He tries to hide a wince, but you watch him clench his teeth together. “Are you done?”

He had two choices in the matter. One to keep, willingly, Sukuna notes with much hesitancy, get slapped around, or he can get his dick possibly wet. He came for the latter, and so he will abide, even if it damaged his pride. He looks away, and that is the best answer you'll get. “Good. Well that was easy. Does your face hurt?”

Sukuna barks a laugh, and you raise your eyebrows. “Do you have any perception of how weak you are?”

You raise your hand up immediately to strike, and the curse flinches, preparing for what was to come next. But you just keep your hand there, eyes widening in glee, while Sukuna borderline growls. He doesn't say anything though, so you lower your hand, and rest it on his head. The act causes his whole body goes rigid, but he continues to remain silent.

“I want you to put your hands behind your back.” Your first command toward him, and Sukuna, as embarrassing as it is, feels his heart begin to pound. His mouth goes dry, and he slowly releases them from your leg and slides them behind him, his wrists crossing over.

A playful smile pulls at your lips, and you lean over to him, ruffling up his hair as if he was some sort of dog to be pet. “Good little curse!”

Sukuna's heart pounds in his chest, and he begins to grow restless. His cock throbbed pathetically at the words, and he was embarrassed to admit that the praise felt nice. Different than the deranged pleasure he felt from the slap, and the harsh tone, but….Good overall. He nods with a scoff. “Yeah, yeah. Can you fucking hurry up.”

His hips gently buck into the pad of your sock, and you try your best to stay calm. He was liking it, all of it was so weird, but endearing, so you didnt move to stop him. “Are you getting frustrated, ‘kuna?”

The nickname has him catching his breath, and shifting on the pads of feet. The tone of your voice was sickenly sweet, and if he allowed himself to, Sukuna could melt into it. He tries to hold some of his dignity. “N-No,” He stutters out, and then curses under his breathe of how stupid he must sound. He quickly recuperates himself. “What do you want from me, you sick fuck?”

“Anything I want?”

“Don't hold your breath.”

You slowly remove your foot from his crotch, and the curse bites his tongue to hold back a complaint. He watches your eyes travel to the ceiling, lost in thought, before you turn back to him with a small grin. “Take your boxers off, and then put your hands back where they were. Exactly where they were.”

Sukuna was not shy, and neither were you, so he is quick to remove the article of clothing. Though of course this was Sukuna, so it was unnecessarily dramatic. He slices the thin fabric open with a single nail, and then throws the useless cloth away. Then he sighs when he looks down. “Of course the brat is small.”

Yuuji was many things, but small was definitely not one of them. He is well over the average size, and it was borderline intimidating. If Sukuna was calling Yuuji small then you didnt even want to know what the curse was carrying. “Small compared to your inhuman-freakish cock?”

“-s”

Your furrow you eyebrows and hum in question.

Sukunas grin is cocky, his body reeking of arrogance, even if he was the one kneeling. “You forgot the “s”. Cocks. Plural.”

Your face controrts to first shock, fear, and then finally lands on distain. “That's disgusting.”

“You say that now but when you are drooling on them later–” Another slap across the face, and Sukuna actually didn't see this one coming. It stuns him speechless for a moment, but then he shivers, cupping his cheek with one of his hands. His eyes flicker to you, but they don't hold any disdain in them – he simply just watches, curious of your next move.

He fails to notice the glob of precum that falls onto the floor after the slap. “Ah, are you leaking Sukuna? Does getting hit turn you on?”

It may be the pain, or may be the psychological aspect of it all. If he says something wrong, he gets punished, and for some reason or another, that drives him insane with desire. He gulps, taking a deep breath to regain his composure. “Of course not. I am not the pervert here.”

“But I bet I could make you do some perverted things.”

His cock, as humiliating as it is, likes the sound of that. It noticeably twitches, and he hopes that more pre doesn't slip out before starting anything. His hands shift from behind his back, but he doesnt dare to move them. “Yeah? How far does your twisted mind go?”

“Far. But I dont want to scare you off too badly tonight,” You sigh, leaning back comfortably in your chair. Sukuna holds off a growl, peeved at how you worded the statement. “Guess you can just hump my leg.”

He laughs, loud and proudly, but your smile withstands. You rest your cheek on your palm, and you wait for the booming laugh to die down. It does, not after long, and slowly when he realizes that you arent joking, the curse glares as you. “Oh fuck off. I told you I am not to be your dog.”

You sigh, and stand up from your chair. “Guess we will end here for the night then. Send Yuuji back when he is well rested.”

A clawed hand wraps around your leg, and Sukuna bares his teeth at you. “Fine. I'll do it. Would you stop being so dramatic?” He gets out through clenched teeth.

You nod and sit back down in your chair, kicking your leg out. Sukuna eyes it, as if unsure of what to do. “Mount it,” You encourage, shaking your limb ever so gently.

“I know how to, you fucking idiot,” He bites, and then slowly uses his knees to push himself forward. His red eyes lock onto yours, and he stares at you the entire time as he straddles you. Your foot rests beneath his body, and his cock barely grazes your lower knee. One hand rests on the back of your leg for security, and the other onto the edge of your chair.

You gulp, and move your leg upward, pinning his cock in between his stomach and the skin of your leg. The curse doesnt dare to move, and he holds a wince when he glances at the glob that drips from his tip and smears onto your leg. A token sign that he is unbelievably turned on. “Drooling over me already? I'm flattered.”

He narrows his eyes at you. “Bite your tongue before I rip it off.”

You don't even flinch at the threat, instead applying more force upward, making the curse curl inward on himself as he tries to lift his hips upward, away from the foot. “Get on with it,” You command, leaving no room for complaints.

His eyes flicker toward you when he hears the strictness in your tone, and he blinks when you glare at him. He gulps, ignoring the pleasant shiver that runs down his spine. But he doesn't dwell on it, because you lower your leg again, and he is free to move. His hands feel strangely shaky, but he hides it well, not wanting to know how much power, Sukuna is discovering quickly, you have over him.

He lines his cock to the middle of your leg, and thrusts forward without much hesitancy. The skin is soft, and it glides over with little resistance, and Sukuna’s eyes are glued to the spot.

Its strange, not as pleasurable like all the previous women he has fucked, nor a warm throat, but for some reason or another, it sends his head spinning.

His hips retreat, and they push themselves upward against the plush of your leg. Eventually he falls into a steady motion, entranced by his actions. It's pathetic, and gross, but why did it feel so good? A leg shouldnt be pleasurable – it doesnt wrap around his cock like he wants it to, but it is strangely addicting.

He realizes quickly why it feels that way – Sukuna is no idiot. He likes the psychological part behind it. He likes that he is kneeling for you, and getting off to something so measly as this. It makes him feel gross compared to you – nothing more than skum, and you, must be some sort of god. It turns him on so much he can barely stand it.

His head falls forward, and it taps onto your thigh. His whole body seems to tremble, and the timing of his thrusts seems to pick up – they are quicker, frantic, and his cock nearly slides off more than it should.

Your fingers fall to his head, and this time he doesnt move, in fact he seems to melt into the touch. This was weird, and you were both intrigued, and slightly scared. “You really seem to be liking this, huh?”

He doesn't respond for a long second, maneuvering his fingers to hold onto the back of your leg with his thumbs left in front of the limp. It provides a makeshift “O” and finally the curse feels like he is actually fucking something, rather than just grinding. “There ya go,” He mumbles to himself, as if lost in a trance. His cock slides itself between your leg and his thumbs, and its driving him insane.

When he doesnt respond, you tug backward on his hair, forcing him to look up at you. To your surprise, he doesnt glare at you, nor let out a biting remark; instead, the curse moans. Its low, and holds a sort of vibration to it, but definitely there. “Oh you fucking freak.”

He lets out a lazy grin, neck uncomfortably craned upward. You watch the way he licks at his teeth, and he breathes out, “More.”

You press your leg deeper into him, and Sukuna in response lets out another gutteral moan, except this one holds a whine to it. The sound travels straight to your groin, and you sit up in your chair, eyes slightly widening. “What changed, king? Dont tell me your getting off to grinding against a mere human peasant like me?”

He lets out a small, breahthless laugh, but doesnt dare stop his motions. “Just this once. Just this once let me, and th-then I swear you are dead.”

Your leg is glistening in some small areas, from when he leaked and spread it into the skin with his tip. He stares at your face the entirety of it, even when you look away to glance at his cock. “But ‘kuna, whose leg will you frot against if you kill me? Aw dont tell me, youll find another to cling to. Y’know I am the only one who can take care of you.”

You drop his head and he goes back to resting his forehead on your knee. His pants are warm against your leg, and you feel him shake his head.

You are right of course. He would never dare show another this side of him to another. He doesnt want to either, even if he never would admit it outloud. “J-Just stop it. Please.”

Please was not in the king of curses vocabulary. Your eyes widen with glee. “How much do you like it? Tell me, does my leg feel good?”

“Does. Fuck. Fuck, I hate you. I hate you.” He nods his head into your leg, hiding his face. His body turns a shade similar to his hair, and it begins to glisten with sweat from his movements. He lets out small breathless moans, and stares at the tip moving up and down the fake color.

His body seems to curl around you your limb, as if trying to trap it in his hold. His lips, much to your surprise, press themselves to your knee and you can hear the smallest chant. “Love it. ‘S mine. Mine. Mine. Mine.”

You raise your eyebrows at the deranged, borderline creepy words. “So you hate me, but love my leg? Don't tell me you got some strange fetish.”

You feel his canines hover over the space just above your knee, a small warning from the curse. You blink at him, surprised by the small resistance, but dont do much. He licks at the flesh a second later, and pulls away. You have to bite back a laugh.

His hands by this point have dropped, and are instead clawing at your chair. He doesnt need them anymore, considering that he is so close to you that that his stomach and your leg are stimulating him on both sides.

“Fuck. I'm close,” Sukuna mumbles into your skin, pressing himself impossibly closer. You wish you had your phone to take a picture – he was basically cradling your leg as if it was some sort of prized possession.

“Are you asking me for permission?”

“N-No. ‘m not. Can I?” He paws at your thighs, nails threatening to dig into your skin. Of course he would never, at least not in this meager state.

“No.”

He bares his teeth at you and glares, but his eyes convey his true feeling: panicked. His pace doesn't slow though, and your leg is now sticky from the amount of precum lost. “I-Im going to whether you like it or not. Fuck. Fuck you. I hate you. Ngh, can you just–just agree!”

His mouth is back onto your knee, sending it sloppy kisses, and small bites. His tip is pulsing red, and it begins to throb. His legs were beginning to tremble, and he tries to focus on not cumming. For some unknown reason, Sukuna wants you to allow him to.

“But you were a brat all day? Boys who threaten death, dont deserve certain privileges,” You hum, and then run your fingers through his hair. “But I am a mere human, and you the king of curses. Why would you listen to my commands?”

Sukuna bites his lip, immediately tearing blood. It dribbles down his chin, but he is quick to wipe it off, and reheal himself. His brows furrow and he scowls at the floor. The only noises let out are the grunts of his movements, and the moans that seem to get higher in pitch with each coming second.

He is lost in thought. The curse doesnt understand why he wants permission, but he needs it. He cant cum without it, it was bound to dissapoint you if he did. The thought leaves a sour taste in his mouth, and finally, the pathetic words that he has been thinking this entire night come spilling out. “Cause I want you to! Command me, give me orders, do something to me. J-Just I–fuck! I need it!”

“Why?”

He was growing frustrated and more panicked as the seconds go by. He was moments from cumming. “Because I–I ngh–Want to please you! Would you just fucking…” He warbles, praying that tears don't come. “Let me cum. I beg you. Let me. I'll do anything.”

Your heart pounds in your chest, and blood flows to your crotch. His watery eyes blink up at you, and he continues to rut against you, like some sort of dog. But thats what he is, or seems to want to be. So, you cock your head to the side, and provide him with a lazy grin. “Go ahead, Fido.”

His red eyes seem to light up at the approval, and he nods to himself as if bewildered by your agreement. But, he does follow through with the plea, and suddenly he is cumming. His whole body trembles, and he holds onto your leg with such force that you have to slide your hands on to of his, in a slight warning to be gentle. Cum shoots out onto your leg, but you can barely see it, considering his body has caved in on himself. He continues to rub himself out even through it all, as he pants into your knee. The curse wears a lazy grin through it all, and lets out small high in pitch moans.

He collapses backward, landing on his ass and panting to catch his breath. You glance away for a second, at most two, to look at the cum stained on your leg. A chuckle falls from your lips.

When Sukuna recovers, he goes straight back to scowling at you. In a heartbeat, he stands over you, borderline growling at you. His nails dig into your shoulders, and your eyes widen at the quickness of it all. Then he leans forward, a near inch away from your ear he whispers, “Don't get your hopes up. This will never happen again. Do you hear me?”

His nail presses uncomfortably hard into your skin, and so you are forced to nod. And with that your vision goes black.

For the next two weeks, Sukuna doesnt conjure up on Yuujis body anytime you are around. You dont mind it too much – it did save you from bickering with the arrogant prick. But to be honest, you were a little disappointed, having call his bluff.

You werent disappointed for long.

Low and behold, two weeks later from the incident, you find yourself faced to face with the King of Curses, who was already kneeling before you.

He glares at you, teeth on full display, as if he didnt realize what position he has put you guys in. “If you mention this to anyone, I will tear you to shreds.” Is all that he says.

But you arent too picky. So you grin, and hold your leg out.

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withleeknow · 6 months ago

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moonstruck.

pairing: minho x f!reader genre/warnings: established relationship, fluff, angst if you squint; they're in love <3, mentions of menstruation, there's a bit about orpheus and eurydice so you're not familiar you might want to look it up beforehand idk, not as edited as i'd like. not a lot of warnings here tbh it's just pretty mild and mellow saur 🤷‍♀️ (also i don't exactly love this but i hope you'll still tolerate it anyway lol) word count: 4.7k playlist 🎧: moonstruck - enhypen // this is how you fall in love - jeremy zucker ft. chelsea cutler // pansy - taemin // tightrope - zayn

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation / masterlist / ko-fi

Minho is the kind of love that you thought only existed in movies and fairytales. Make-belief, too good to be true, out of reach.

When he rests his head on your shoulder, drifting in and out of sleep like he’s been doing for the past hour or so, you give into the urge to stare at him in wonder. An angel on earth, if there ever was one.

His long eyelashes that you could only dream to have, the slope of his nose, his pink pouty lips, his impeccably sharp jawline, and even his fluffy hair that’s ticking your cheek as you look at him as if you don’t get to see him like this every day. But that kind of beauty is something that demands to be showcased in the world’s most exquisite museum and admired by anyone who comes across it.

Minho is beautiful in every sense of the word.

And you adore him. You do. You love him with every single beat of your pathetic little heart and then some.

Surely, you must’ve saved a nation in one of your past lives to deserve someone as ethereal as him.

Turning your face to the side, you press a kiss against his forehead. The touch makes him stir awake, eyelids fluttering open as he groggily looks around and stretches out his limbs, in the limited space that he has anyway. His sleepy voice asks you, “Are we there yet?”

“Not yet. I think they said we still have about forty minutes before we land. Do you want to go back to sleep?”

Minho shakes his head, covering his mouth when a yawn forces its way out. He straightens his back to his full height sitting down, then slumps against the seat a little bit. He rests his cheek against the top of your head while his hands find one of your own to hold in his lap.

He rubs the skin of your fourth finger for a moment before he eventually stills, lightly snoring again while you look out the window, gazing at oddly shaped clouds and blues and the reflection of the sun on the waters below.

–

After you’ve checked into the hotel, freshened up and readied yourselves to explore the scenery, Minho takes you down to the beach. It’s a little chilly, spring hasn’t yet settled into summer. Even with a light jacket on, you still shiver every time the wind rushes by like it’s playing with the waters. But it’s nice – the sea breeze in your hair and the sunlight on your face, your lover by your side, his fingers intertwined with yours as you walk along the shore together. The blue of the sea almost blending in with the sky where they meet somewhere out there on the horizon. Seagulls flying overhead, families enjoying their relaxing vacation, children playing in the sand way down the shoreline where all you can make out are blurry silhouettes dancing about.

It’s paradise on earth. It’s an escape that you desperately needed. Exhilarated doesn’t even begin to describe how you felt when he told you that he’d booked a Jeju trip for your anniversary.

He’s always been the perfect partner. Always knows just the right thing to do for you whenever you need a pick-me-up. He may not seem like it, but Minho is beyond caring and considerate. He’s a man of few words but he certainly makes up for it with his actions.

“Hey,” he says, pointing somewhere ahead of you. “Remember what happened there?”

“Hmm?” Your eyes try to follow the direction of his finger, until they find a spot where two people are sitting, watching the water in front of them, content smiles passed between lips as they talk animatedly. “Didn’t you confess to me there?”

He smiles as the memory resurfaces in his mind. “Did you know I almost chickened out?”

You two started out as friends way before you got together.

Three years ago, just a few months after you’d both graduated from college, Minho asked you to go to Jeju island with him. You thought it was a little strange – though not that strange since you had been on trips with him before, but it was always in a group setting with all of your other friends. Never just the two of you.

Nonetheless, you agreed. You wanted to get out of the city anyway. You needed a change of scenery to clear your head and to recharge. Everything was starting to become too much for you - being 22 and in limbo. You felt like you kept falling behind no matter what you did. Everyone was moving forward and you were running in place no matter how hard you tried to get out of that slump.

Everyone around you was outgrowing you and your little life, and all you could do was pretend you were fine.

It was one of the lowest you’d ever felt, and you suppose that was why you said yes to Minho’s invitation. A vacation didn’t seem like it would help much, but it certainly couldn’t hurt.

A few days away, with nothing but the sun and the sea to help you get out of your own head.

A tropical paradise and Minho. It wasn’t the end of the world. There were worse things you could think of.

That, and the fact that there had always been something between you and him. Not crazy sexual tension or anything, but just enough of a noticeable spark. An inkling of something that neither of you ever acted upon.

“Did you?” you ask. “Didn’t you plan the whole trip back then to confess?”

“What? No. Why would I willingly do that when you could’ve rejected me? Then I would’ve been stuck in a hotel with you and on the plane ride back.”

You squint at him. “Then why did you take me on that trip?”

Minho shrugs. “Friendship trip to cheer you up.”

Years with him and he still makes you feel as warm as he did the first time you kissed. You gaze at him with what must be the world’s most lovestruck look plastered on your face. You reach up to press your lips to the corner of his mouth, then watch as a blush spreads across his cheeks.

“You did confess though,” you argue.

“Well, yeah, but that wasn’t planned,” he tells you. “You just... We were sitting right there,” he tips his chin toward the same spot again, “and you had my jacket on because you were cold. You were watching the sunset and you looked so pretty. I couldn’t help it. Almost chickened out though.”

You stop walking, and this makes him stop too. Minho glances at you with his head slightly tilted, wearing a puzzled expression.

“You never told me that,” you say.

“You never asked.”

Pouting, you tug him toward you until he’s close enough for you to wrap your arms around his neck. Minho is good, so incredibly good for you that sometimes you can’t possibly fathom how you even deserve him. He never meant to get anything out of it; he just saw that you were struggling and wanted to make it better for you.

Maybe you didn’t do a very good job at pretending, not if Minho could see right through you.

Before him, you had a fear of heights. Not the literal kind, but rather the kind of heights that often accompanies big leaps, big changes. A fear of falling, maybe that would be more accurate. Falling and failing and hitting rock bottom with no way to climb back up. A fear that you would always be stuck with this life forever, trapped in an existence you never asked for. A fear that no effort to escape your reality would be enough, and you’ll always be trailing ten steps behind even if you try twenty times as hard.

You pull him down so you could properly kiss him, your lips slotting together perfectly like he was made for you, like he’s the only person you’re ever meant to kiss in this lifetime. You can taste his smile, minty and happy as he moves against your mouth, his arms sliding around your waist to hold you to his body by the small of your back.

“If I had known,” Minho pulls away slightly, mumbling against your lips, “telling you that would get me brownie points, I would’ve told you ages ago.”

You roll your eyes with affection.

“So all this time,“ he says, “you thought I asked you on that trip just to get into your pants?”

“You did get into my pants on that trip!”

“Let me remind you that I only wanted to do something nice for you. You were the one who almost jumped my bones right then and there after I said I liked you.”

You slap his chest as he throws his head back in a hearty laugh. Minho takes your hand in his once more as he drags you along, savoring the cool sea breeze and the golden daylight dancing on glittering waters before the sun bids you goodbye.

Minho is the kind of love that makes you want to curl up into a ball and ugly cry for an hour straight.

In a good way, of course. In the best way possible.

So that’s what you do, on a fine Tuesday afternoon, sitting on a couch surrounded by three cats as you wait for him to come home, perfectly sheltered from the harsh sun outside.

He returns eventually, toward the end of your crying session. When he sees the pile of tissues on the coffee table, soaked with your tears and snot, his heart nearly falls out of his ass.

Minho drops everything, rushing to you like you’re on the verge of spontaneous human combustion because clearly, this is a normal reaction to have when you come home to a girlfriend who’s been sobbing in the dark for god knows how long.

That, and the fact that said girlfriend doesn’t cry very often. Not by herself and certainly not in front of others.

Doesn’t mean that you’re immune to the occasional bouts of tears whenever shark week closes in, though.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong? Did something happen?”

Another rush of tears breaks as you look at him. You wipe your eyes and your nose with the tissue you’re currently holding, before throwing it on the table to join the pile you’ve accumulated.

You launch yourself forward, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck. The sudden force takes him aback, makes him gasp a little.

He freezes as you cling to him like a desperate koala, before his hands slowly land on your back, rubbing slowly, hesitantly, as though he’s afraid he’s hurting you.

“What’s wrong, baby? Why are you crying?”

“PMS,“ you hiccup your answer out, to which Minho only responds with a relieved Ah, his hands now moving more assuredly on your body.

“Anything hurt? Sore?”

“No. Just… missed you today. Love you a lot.”

There’s something saccharine in his gaze when he pulls back and regards you with his big doe eyes, softened and endeared, yet there’s still a twinkle of mischief peeking through the sugary glaze.

He moves to make himself comfortable next to you on the couch but still makes sure to keep a hand on you so you don’t grow impatient.

Once he’s effectively squished between you and the armrest of the sofa, he says, “You missed me so much that you started crying? You could’ve texted me, or called. I would’ve come home sooner, crybaby.”

“I didn’t cry because I missed you. I cried because I love you.”

He pretends to think for a moment. “I honestly can’t tell if I should be offended or not.”

You jab a finger at his ribs.

Sure, the mere thought of Minho brings tears to your eyes sometimes. It’s not really a secret anymore.

There’s something about him, just him, how wonderful he is and how all of the stars in the sky must have aligned themselves to make you and him happen. He’s the love of your entire life, there’s never been any doubt about it. Your other half, perfect for you.

You’ve never felt this way about anyone before, and you’re positive that you will never feel this way about anyone ever again. Your love for him runs so deep, so powerful that it overwhelms you at times, drowns you in nothing but affection for him and only him. A love that spreads like wildfire through your calm and sacred forest.

It’s cliché beyond words, that one day you would be having these thoughts about someone. You used to watch this kind of sentiment romanticized in movies, used to cringe and laugh at sappy lines in books and TV shows though there was always a part of you that longed for that kind of love.

You didn’t talk about it often, not even with the people closest to you. You always found it a little embarrassing to admit that you wanted love. To love and to be loved. There was something so utterly vulnerable in the act of yearning and isn’t it such a scary thing? To be vulnerable? You never saw the appeal in showing someone the deepest, darkest parts of you.

What if they leave? What if you bare yourself to someone and they deem you not worth staying for? How would you come back from that kind of rejection?

You suppose it always held you back - the fear of being open that goes hand in hand with the fear of being left behind. Maybe you have more fears than you’d like to admit.

Then came Minho.

No, that doesn’t sound right.

He didn’t come crashing into your life like a tidal wave and unraveled your every belief.

He was always there by your side, a calming presence that you could lean on when things got tough. A friend, a solid foundation. He’s the relief after every monsoon, the first day of sun after a long and harsh winter.

He saw you for who you were, all the messiest parts of you, and loved you anyway. In spite of your mess? Because of your mess.

He taught you that love isn’t always extravagant gestures and grand declarations that Shakespeare would applaud.

Love is acceptance. Love is staying with you on your gloomiest days and holding your hand through your dreariest moments. Love is lingering glances by the doorway before he goes to work because you’re half asleep but you’re still trying to reach for him even in your dreams.

It’s sharing joys and burdens alike. Reminders to eat and gentle wake-up calls. A photo of you in his wallet, a silly picture of him as your phone’s wallpaper. Giggling with him after he tells a joke not because of the punchline itself, but because his manic chortle is even funnier.

Love is Minho cradling your face in one hand and holding onto your shaking fingers with the other, his steady gaze holding yours, and his voice whispering gently in the darkest of nights, “Your storm is my storm.”

At the end of the day, love is pretty simple. Love is him.

“Do you ever think about Orpheus and Eurydice?”

Minho laughs, the sound vibrating where you lay your head, his hand still absentmindedly rubbing the skin of your waist over your shirt. “No, I don’t think about Orpheus and Eurydice.”

You figured as much.

Your fingers trace invisible patterns on his chest as you hum your acknowledgment. Then you ask, “If it was me, if you were Orpheus, would you look back?”

His hands pause their ministrations, a little taken aback by the question you suppose. Your brain tends to pingpong between the most random things sometimes.

“You know,“ he says with an even voice, though the corner of his mouth still curls upward in amusement. “Other people just ask the worm thing.”

“The worm thing is boring. And we both know you wouldn’t love me if I was a worm.”

“You wouldn’t love me if I was a worm either.”

“That’s true. I don’t like worms,” you agree, chuckling while your boyfriend scoffs. “Answer the question, would you look back?”

There’s no right answer because you’re not expecting a correct response. It’s a hypothesis that can never be tested because you aren’t a nymph and Minho isn’t a bard with the ability to sway all life with his music. It’s a silly thought but it’s one that you’re curious about nonetheless, just to hear what he would say. Why not?

You’ve read many interpretations of the tragedy. In some, Orpheus hears Eurydice stumble and turns to catch her fall. In others, he can’t hear her at all. The story will forever be among your favorites, one of the things that never fails to turn you inside out no matter how many times you mull over it.

Minho is quiet for a moment. You think he’s about to shoot back with a witty retort that he always has up his sleeves, probably something about how he would find a loophole and trick his way out of the deal, or that he would personally fistfight Hades to get you out of the underworld. This wouldn’t surprise you at all.

Instead, he says, “Yes, I would look back.”

But regardless of how you choose to view the myth, the ending does not change. Orpheus always turns around.

He turns around because he loves her.

Minho’s fingers slip under your shirt to brush your bare skin, angling his head sideways so he could kiss your forehead.

Maybe he’s just saying it for the sake of being romantic, for the sake of saying what seems to be the right thing. It’s an answer that you can never give substance to, but you believe him with all your heart.

You believe him. You do.

“If it’s you, I would look back.”

Minho is the kind of love that eclipses the sun and dims the light of the moon. The kind of love that drowns out all the noise and makes everything a little more bearable. Not just the most horrible things – your fears and struggles alike – but even the smallest, most mundane things.

If there’s one thing that you absolutely hate, it’s the smell of nail polish. You hate the way it lingers in the air even after the bottle has been capped, hate how the smell of toluene stains your fingertips even after washing your hands several times with scented soap.

Though, the only time you try to tolerate it is when Minho convinces you to stay in and pamper each other. Pizzas that he picks up for dinner and tiramisu ice cream for dessert. Face masks and fancy candles that you save for special occasions. SoonDoongDori napping on various surfaces in your living room, an old vinyl playing from the record player he got you for your first birthday you shared together after you started dating.

You each take turns doing the other’s nails on the carpeted floor. It’s become somewhat of a tradition that you indulge in every month, where you would spend cozy Friday evenings indoors just because neither of you can be assed to indulge in a “proper“ date night. Being hermits together sounds infinitely more appealing to you than any other alternative.

“I’m not done,” you say, snatching Minho’s hand back after he pulls it away to admire your work. You blow on his fingers to make sure that the layer of black polish you applied earlier is dry, then you’re reaching for a bottle of beige polish sitting amongst the ones scattered on the floor. You take a tiny brush from the nail kit - one that’s rarely ever touched because neither of you knows how to do nail art - and dip it into the sand-colored polish.

“What are you doing?“ he asks, watching as you trace some squiggly lines on his middle finger, the lighter color settling nicely on top of the black even if he has no idea what you’re trying to draw. “What is that?”

“Soonie,” you say simply. “When you flip people off, you can show them Soonie.”

You don’t need to look at him to know that his attention is fixed on you even though he doesn’t give you a response. You feel his gaze on the side of your face, soft and warm and never leaving for even a second. He doesn’t say anything while you work though, maybe he doesn’t want to mess up your concentration while you’re so engrossed in what you’re doing. He only chuckles at your answer, then nothing afterward.

You don’t mind the lack of conversation. It helps you focus better on what you’re doing because you’re no artist by any means. You can’t draw to save your life, let alone master something as intricate as nail art, but this is therapeutic. It’s perfect to help you unwind after a long week - doodling your beloved cat on your boyfriend’s nails while Iris by the Goo Goo Dolls sets the ambience. You’ll get the ice cream when you’re done with your impromptu project, along with a little headache from inhaling too much of the polish scent perhaps, but isn’t that a small price to pay?

You take your sweet time with the teeny tiny details, like Soonie’s delicate whiskers and the darker strips of fur on his face. He still turns out a little wonky, a little lopsided here and there but it’s not like you expected it to turn out like a Picasso.

The real Soonie seems to sense a disturbance in the force when he wakes up from his nap and saunters toward you curiously. You pick him up and sit him in your lap so he doesn’t come too close to the fresh polish on Minho’s nails. “Look,” you say with a proud smile, pointing toward the small cat doodle. “That’s you.”

He studies it for a moment, focused on your portrayal of him but then he’s quick to decide that he’s not interested anymore before wiggling away from your lap to go join Doongie on the couch. You chuckle lightly, watching him as he walks off, wondering if this is what it will feel like when your future children enter their teenage years.

When you turn back to Minho, he’s still staring at you, a dazed look in his eyes as he blinks slowly, his hand resting limply on his thigh.

“What?” you ask. “Do you not like–”

“Marry me.”

The rest of your question dies in your throat, wilting away like cherry blossoms when summer nears. He doesn’t break eye contact, still that dreamy gaze when he peers at you. Nothing has ever changed in the way that he looks at you.

For a moment, you’re too stunned to speak. You think anyone would be when their boyfriend drops a proposal out of nowhere while you’re doing each other’s nails in your comfiest sweatpants.

Everything that you’ve been afraid of comes bubbling to the surface, every doubt, every fear, even every fleeting insecurity. They manifest as a ringing in your ears, a buzzing in your head that makes it hard to think about anything at all.

But then he shuffles closer, closer and closer until his warm breath fans your cheek, his nose nudging your cheekbone gently. It’s similar to what Doongie does sometimes when you’re lounging in bed and he just wants some love.

When Minho takes your hand and laces your fingers together in his lap, everything stills. The rumbling comes to a halt, the distant thunder fading slowly into the background of your mind palace until it’s reduced to mere white noise. “Marry me,“ he says again, and his voice is so tender that you ache. Tender and sweet and so full of wonderful adoration. If you ever have to describe what love sounds like, you would say it’s him and his voice, right here and right in this exact moment.

“A little dramatic to propose just because I drew your cat.”

He chuckles, presses a kiss to your cheek before he ducks down to deliver another kiss on the side of your neck. Then he pulls back, just enough to get a clear view of you and your now glassy eyes.

“Bottom drawer in our bedroom,” he tells you. You can’t lie; you have half a mind to leave him here and go check. “I bought the ring two months ago, but I knew I wanted to marry you two years before that. I’ve been waiting for the perfect moment to do it but I realized the perfect moment doesn’t exist, because every minute I spend with you is perfect. I love you so much. It’s not because you drew me my cat, by the way. I think I’ve loved you since the first time I saw you.

“I love your weird brain and your blanket-hogging ass. I love that you’re crazy enough to listen to a song literally over a thousand times without getting bored. I even love you when you set ten alarms in the morning and still manage to sleep through all of them. I know you hate your smile but it’s my favorite smile in the world. Did you know my favorite color is the color of your eyes? The best part of my day is when I get to come home to you and the kids waiting for me. I want all of you forever. I promise I’ll love you twice as much on days that you don’t love yourself. When we’re old and gray and we look like raisins, I’ll let you go first so you won’t have to spend a single day alone. I’ll–” He stops when you let out a teary giggle, no bite in his voice at all when he says, “Please don’t laugh at me during my big romantic speech.”

It only makes you laugh harder, though it’s just as emotional. If you focus on the other part of his sentence, you’ll only crumble into a million pieces right here. “How very romantic of you to include the visual of us as raisins in your speech.”

Minho rolls his eyes – fondly, of course. When he pretends to squirm away from you, you tug him back by the collar of his shirt to plant an apologetic kiss on his lips which he eagerly accepts.

“Please continue,” you say, smiling against his mouth. “Tell me all the ways that you’ll love me.”

“You ruined it. I retract my proposal,” he grumbles, but his arms betray his words when they tighten around your frame, holding you close to him to steal another kiss. Then another, and another, until your faces are wet with tears and you realize that you’re both crying.

“I’m sorry,” you say through sniffles and tears. “Please keep going.”

“Make it up to me first.”

“How?”

“Marry me,” he repeats a final time. “I’ll give you a better speech on our wedding day.”

Years and years from now, when you’re old and gray and look like raisins – as he so poetically put it – you’ll remember this moment down to every miniscule detail. How the cats’ peace is disturbed by your tearful giggles and the strange look they give you before wandering out of the room, in favor of somewhere without two crying idiots. How the record starts skipping but neither of you can be bothered to do anything about the obnoxious sound. How the material of his shirt feels when you bunch the fabric in your hands because you need to kiss him, need him to be as close as humanly possible.

You’ll remember the sob that he hiccups when you tell him through choked up whispers, “Yes, I’ll marry you,” and how his lips feel when they tremble against your skin. You’ll remember the way he holds onto you like a lifeline, because he’s always been your salvation for as long as you’ve known him. You’ll remember what happens after, later that night when he finally slips the ring onto your finger. The words he whispers into the crook of your neck, “You mean the world to me,” and the emotions in his voice when you both realize this is the start of the rest of forever.

You’ll remember everything, all of it, every clumsy touch and every graceless kiss. Ugly crying on the floor and yet, it’s more perfect than anything you can ever dream of.

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