#cat wedding ♡

[hitwiththetmnt]

Your character(s) are hanging out in their cabin when all of sudden there's a loud slam! as something hits the window. When your character(s) go to look, they see it was a robotic dove (with "Genius-built" stamped on the side) holding an... envelope? It drops the letter on the ground before flying off. When your character(s) pick up the envelope they find it sealed with wax - a cat imprinted in it. Inside there's an invitation from Cabins 14 and 15... but for what, exactly?

Ft. @justalittleobsessed (Cabin 15) and @languajix’s (Cabin 14) Klunks

@tmnt-fandom-family-reunion

Best wishes for the newly weds! 🐾

@tmnt-fandom-family-reunion

Cabin #7 (7Wonders of the Turtleverse)

[ssweetleaf]

babies.

husband!steve harrington x wife!reader

summary: you finally tell steve that you’re ready for a baby.

includes: SMUT 18+, breeding kink, not really a daddy kink but he refers to himself as daddy lol, mating press, creampie, unprotected p in v

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

“Hang on— what did you say?”

Steve felt as if he was dreaming, completely delirious, struggling to stay on his feet when his knees started to buckle.

He clutched a quivering palm to his chest, as if in attempt to quell his heart, but nothing could sate the thick thumping that barrelled through his rib cage.

You smiled at him, a small, impish one that made his eyelids flutter and you stepped closer, smoothing your hands along his shoulders before resting upon the thickness of both biceps, squeezing only slightly— just for your benefit, of course.

You knew it was something he’d desperately wanted to hear for a long while, so you spoke slowly, hoping the few words you spoke would register properly.

Because this was real. Such a big step, something that Steve had always dreamt of, but you not quite. It took a good few years for you to succumb to the idea of raising kids; a pretty house and a small wedding— even a few cats roamed around your home, so you knew that something was missing, something you now wanted desperately in your life.

“I want to try for a baby, Steve.” You spoke, watching his doe eyes grow even rounder, little tears threatening to ebb while he felt all melty and gooey, moving forward to shakily cup your cheeks and bring you closer towards him.

Steve nuzzled his nose against yours, sighing out a big breath and sponging a sweet, chaste little kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“I don’t know what to say, honey, I’m—” he shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut, his thumbs lazily circling the apples of your cheeks. “I’m so fucking happy.”

—

So, the two of you fucked like rabbits— for hours and hours, multiple times a day, the mere feeling of his raw length inside you had you creaming around him in minutes, and it was much akin for Steve, the soft, gummy walls of your cunt squeezing around him with no barrier between the two of you.

It felt like heaven.

Steve had insisted that you both have sex as regular as you could, the need to have you pregnant, to make it stick, needed to be quenched, and you nodded along like the doting little wife you were.

“My pretty honey,” he cooed, pressing your knees firmly against your heaving chest, holding you in a mating press whilst he fucked his thick cock into your spasming pussy.

Sweat beaded along his hairline, breathless from his hard thrusts— he had already came inside of you three times that same day, however you knew he wouldn’t let up until he saw those two red lines that told him what he’d wanted to hear.

“Gotta give you my babies, don’t I, hon?” He uttered, moaning breathily into the stuffy air— his full, round balls smacking against your ass with every inward thrust, so full of cum and ready to breed. “Gotta be thorough now, baby— want you nice ‘n’ round.”

He was babbling, words slurring into something almost nonsensical— his pretty lips sponged at any piece of skin he could find, mouthing and suckling with a desperation that shone in his honeyed eyes.

Your pussy practically sucked him in, letting his ruddy tip nudge at the spot so deep inside you, that had you clenching and fluttering.

“Fuck, jus’ wanna be a daddy so bad,” he whined, “and once we have our first, we’ll have another, and another, and another— oh fuck.”

He was fisting the pillow underneath your head, muscles drawn tight, trying so hard to keep his eyes open and not let them flutter closed— trying hard to keep his eyes on you.

“But don’t worry, honey baby,” he sighed with a smile, still thrusting as deep as he could, his thumb moving to rub at your clit. “You’ll still be daddy’s best girl— daddy’s favourite, I’ll make sure of it.”

You whined. He was so filthy, so crude, as soon as his big dick would slip inside of you he’d be gone, so stupid, completely pussy drunk. Silly boy.

“You ready for it, hon?” He cooed, nuzzling his nose into your cheek, “ready for my cum, pretty girl?”

You nodded, uttering a small ‘yes, Stevie’ through a moan and a sigh, clenching hard and quivering around him, ready to cum yourself.

The sheer need to be filled had you delirious.

“Yeah, gonna fill you up— gonna put a sweet baby in that pretty tummy of yours,” he hummed, “that sound good?”

“Sounds s’good, Stevie,” you whined, struggling to keep hold of your legs, your limbs shaky when you tried to keep your knees pressed against you. “Wan’ it so bad, want your cum— want your babies.”

He nodded fervently, hair whipping in every which way, dick throbbing in you hotly, the taut veins pulsing with every inward thrust— so, so close and ready to burst.

“I know ya do, hon— you ready to take it? You ready to take another load, baby?” He whined, squeezing his eyes shut, thrusts turning sloppy and erratic, “I know you’re so full, can barely fit anymore cum inside this poor pussy, huh?”

“Can take it, Stevie,” you spoke, fluttering your lashes, your lips all pouty and pink, “promise.”

And with one, two, three thrusts, he stilled inside of you, so deep, tip kissing your cervix before shooting his thick, pearly ropes of cum inside you, hoping to fill you with his Harrington prodigy, to make all the babies he could wish for.

Steve kept your legs raised, pulling them from your chest to place above his shoulders, keeping your back arched.

“Gotta make sure it takes,” he whispered, stroking at your calf before pressing a little kiss to your ankle. “think this is the one, honey.”

[wholoveseggs]

Small Victories

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

{Daemon Targaryen X Reader} After a tourney in which Daemon places second, he seeks solace from his loss and finds it in his little northern maid.

♡♡ Hello darlings! I'm branching out slightly and writing about a new character {Don't worry, I'm still writing Elijah} xoxo ♡♡

5.3k words - Warnings: smutt, size!kink, rough sex, dom!daemon, slight choking, virgin!reader, northern!reader, servant!reader, pre-dance Daemon, huge power imbalance...

♡♡ Hey! I didn't tag anyone because I'm unsure if you want to read Daemon content. If you wish to be tagged in future Daemon let me know ♡♡

You didn't like the Red Keep, it was too grand for your liking. Even with all of the people in it you still felt alone. At night, you could hear voices echoing throughout the halls, sometimes they were singing or laughing and other times they were screaming or moaning.

You could never tell where the sounds were coming from, it gave the place an odd feeling of being haunted. Ghosts weren't something you put your faith in, but that didn't stop the hair from standing up on the back of your neck whenever you heard a strange sound.

If it was up to you, you wouldn't live here. You would be back in the little cottage you grew up in, far into the north and as far away from King's landing as you could possibly be. It was a funny contradiction, that such a grand place in a warm environment could feel so cold, while a small house in the cold north could feel so full of warmth.

The last thing your mother said to you, was that you should be grateful. That your place in the Red Keep was the highest honor your family could ever hope to receive, and that you should do anything to stay here. To be a lady's maid to the queen, was the highest achievement a low born could achieve.

You tried to be, even though your heart yearned for the snowy landscape of your childhood. You wanted to be happy, you were thankful, but you couldn't help the way you missed the north.

So to try and capture just a bit of personal freedom, you would walk the halls at night. It was the only time you could pretend to be somewhere else, even if it was only for a moment. You would close your eyes and imagine yourself somewhere new and exciting, and when you opened them you would be reminded of where you really were.

Tonight you were in a particularly adventurous mood, there was a tourney the next day for Prince Viserys and his wife Aemma to celebrate their wedding. The Red Keep would be full of guests and it would be loud and full of life, you were sure to be very busy, and so you decided to stay up late and postpone sleep for a few more hours.

There was a room in the library that had a view of the city, one you liked to frequent often. It had a large window and a balcony that was rarely used. It was a nice place to go to clear your mind and think about home.

When you entered, nobody was around except for a cat that was perched on the windowsill. She was a lovely thing with black fur and bright green eyes, the perfect color of a dark forest at night.

"Hello, beautiful." You greeted her with a smile and a light stroke along her back. You looked out the window with her at your side, watching the moon reflect off the ocean and the waves crashing against the shore.

The sound of footsteps behind you made you look over your shoulder, your eyes landing on a man with a face that made you stand up straight and bow your head.

"Prince Daemon." You greeted him, not looking up from the floor.

"Young maidens like yourself shouldn't be out so late." He said, stepping closer to you. You didn't dare move or even breathe, his presence made you feel like you were caught doing something wrong.

"I couldn't sleep, my lord," You answered, not meeting his eyes. This was your first real meeting with the prince, but you knew the rumors that surrounded him.

He didn't respond to your answer, instead, he turned his attention towards the view. Leaning against the window, his posture was dismissive, as though you weren't there. He gave you a side glance that read, 'leave,' and so you did, not wanting to get in his way.

"I apologize, I didn't mean to intrude." You said, walking past him, heading towards the doorway.

"You are from the north," he spoke, still looking out into the water.

"Yes, my lord," You answered, stopping when he started speaking.

"How did you find yourself as a maid in the south?" He asked, looking at you, his eyes piercing through you.

The truth of the matter made you feel shameful, even though it was beyond your control. So you decided to tell him what you've been telling everyone.

"I was given as a gift for our new queen," You said, looking down at the floor.

"Is that what they call it?" Daemon laughed, his laugh was as harsh as his voice, the kind of laugh that could cut you open if you let it. "I heard you were given away as payment for a debt."

Your cheeks reddened and you looked at the ground, your throat closing up at the mention of your family's failure. Pride wasn't something you could afford anymore, but you couldn't stop the words that came out of your mouth.

"I didn't realize that princes were so fond of gossip." You said, meeting his eyes, your words were meant to cut, and they did.

He stood up straight, his expression unreadable as he closed the distance between the two of you, towering over you.

"Ahh, so they did sell you." He smirked, looking down at you. "Whoring can make you better coin… recover a debt quicker."

Your hands balled up into fists and you took a step closer, a defiant glare on your face.

He chuckled and tilted his head, he reached out and touched your chin, his hand was soft but firm as he turned your face to look at him.

"With a pretty face like yours, I'm sure you would make quite a bit of coin," His voice was a purr, a seductive growl that made your insides feel tight. "I could show you a better use for those lips."

His words were shockingly vulgar, his voice was rough and commanding and his eyes were hungry, but you didn't move away, you stayed still. You knew the dragon prince was a scandalous man, but you didn't think he would ever be so bold.

"There is no honor in a whore's coin." You answered, pushing his hand away from your face.

"Is there honor in emptying the queen's chamber pot?" He retorted, grinning slightly at how red your cheeks had become.

"Not all of us have the opportunity to choose what sort of honor we can acquire,” You said, standing your ground as best as you could.

He towered over you, his tall frame casting a shadow that almost completely covered you. He wasn't like the king or queen, who were kind and generous. There was something dark and malicious about him, as though the great beasts of his house lurked just below his skin, waiting to come out.

"You have a smart mouth, little northerner." He mused, his eyes drifting down to your lips. "It's a wonder that the queen has not put a gag in it."

"It's a poor quality I have yet to overcome." You responded, pulling away from him and putting some distance between the two of you.

He watched you move away, his eyes following your movements and the shape of your body, making you feel hot.

"I will think of you when I win the tourney tomorrow." He said, his tone smug and confident. "A sweet northern flower to bring back with me."

"You will be bringing back nothing, prince Daemon." You said, your voice a warning.

He laughed and looked at you, his eyes dancing with mischief.

"We'll see about that."

And with those final words, he left the room. You felt flustered and annoyed, a strange mixture of feelings that confused and angered you. You didn't like the prince, but he made your heart race, his voice and his eyes made you feel a strange sense of heat.

You wanted to be disgusted, and yet all you could think about was seeing him again.

It was a hectic morning, with all the knights and guests arriving, and you were late. Your tardiness had earned you a sharp reprimand from your head maid, but you were too distracted by the upcoming event to care.

The prospect of seeing the prince again was something you weren't sure you wanted, but couldn't stop thinking about.

You didn't like the way his eyes lingered on you, or how he made you feel things that shouldn't be felt. The rogue prince was indeed a fitting title, he was a scoundrel and a liar, a man of dishonor.

You thought that maybe he was the sort of person that the south created, perhaps they took people like you and turned them into someone like him. But then again, he wasn't really a southerner, no, he was a dragon.

The sound of cheers and laughter outside made your ears perk up. The queen was already seated with the other royals in their viewing box, and you were in a nearby tent, preparing more wine and food.

The tourney had just begun, and so far the knights had all performed well. You had only been paying a bit of attention, trying to do your job and keep out of the way.

The head maid was a cruel, vindictive woman, and she had been taking out her frustration on you all day. Her temper was short and her hands were rough, she was the kind of woman that would slap your hands or pull your hair if she was upset. But today she decided to simply make your life miserable with her words.

She gave you the worst jobs and the heaviest items to carry, and when she did allow you to stand and rest, she would hit your feet with her broom and tell you to get back to work.

"Once you are finished pouring wine, I want you to go to the prince's tent and serve him." She ordered, her eyes were sharp and her words were harsh.

"The prince has a squire to serve him." You protested, the idea of facing Daemon again made your cheeks turn red.

"The prince requested a woman's company,” She smiled, her eyes looking at you with an almost wicked satisfaction.

"I believe what the prince is looking for can be found on the street of silk, not among the ladies maids." You countered, hoping to change her mind.

"It's an honor to serve the prince, and he has specifically asked for a northern girl." The head maid was adamant, not willing to let this go.

You clenched your jaw and took a deep breath, biting your tongue as you looked at the floor.

"Very well, madam."

You held back tears as you climbed the stairs to the viewing box, pouring wine into the cups. Keeping your eyes low and only lifting them when absolutely necessary as you made your way down the line of royals.

Everyone began to stir and chat as the final round was announced. You turned to face the arena, watching as the prince mounted his horse, the sight of him made your heart flutter.

He was a handsome man, there was no denying that, his long blonde hair was braided and tied back, and his purple eyes were focused and determined.

His horse was a massive stallion, black as night, and he rode him as though they were one. He moved with a grace and confidence that was captivating.

The final round began, the two men charging at each other. You were nervous and excited, not knowing what to expect.

The clash of steel was the only sound in the air, it echoed throughout the entire arena. The crowd was silent, their eyes locked on the scene before them.

The two men passed each other, once, twice, three times. The tension building with each near miss, until finally the two knights clashed again.

Daemon's opponent had a slight edge over him, being bigger and stronger, but Daemon was quicker. But on the fourth pass, his opponent managed to catch him off guard, sending him flying into the dirt.

The crowd gasped, their hands covering their mouths as the prince's horse bucked and ran, leaving him in the dust.

You winced at the sight, it wasn't a good fall. He landed on his back, hard, and he lay still for a moment, his eyes squeezed shut as he caught his breath.

Only when the head maid cleared her throat did you realize you had been holding your breath.

"You are needed in the prince's tent, girl." she commanded, grabbing the jug from your hands and giving you a stern look.

You nodded, taking the tray of food and wine from the table and heading out of the box. Your heart was racing and your palms were sweaty, the thought of seeing Daemon after such a public humiliation was not something you were looking forward to.

The air was alive with the roar of the people, and the thumping of their feet sounded like thunder. They were chanting for the champion, something that would surely upset Daemon even more.

When you got to his tent, you hesitated, taking a moment to calm your nerves. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, letting the noise of the crowd fade away.

You stepped inside, finding him sitting in a chair, his shirt was off and his squire was cleaning a nasty gash on his arm.

"I'm sorry for intruding, Prince Daemon." You said, placing the tray of food on the table and pouring a cup of wine.

"Leave," he barked at his squire, his voice was gruff and his jaw was clenched.

"But my prince-" his squire protested, looking up from the wound he was treating.

"Now."

The boy left quickly, leaving you alone with the brooding prince.

"Would you like some wine, my lord?" You asked, your voice soft and timid, the last thing you wanted was to make him even more upset.

"No," he hissed, his voice sharp as a knife. "Bring me a new shirt."

You did as he asked, walking over to the large chest in the corner. It was full of clothes, the colors and fabrics were fine and beautiful. You selected a clean white shirt and brought it over to him, your eyes focused on the ground.

"Look at me," he commanded, his voice was quiet, but it was a demand, not a request.

You lifted your eyes, meeting his gaze. His eyes were cold, the same shade of violet that had captivated you was now a glare.

You did very well, my lord," You tried to reassure him, your voice soft and comforting.

"Is that meant to be comforting?" He asked, his tone was harsh and his expression was a scowl.

"Fine. I have never seen a worse display than the one you put on today," you said, the words slipping from your mouth before you could stop them.

He smiled, then laughed, his shoulders shaking as his amusement grew. Only his brother the king would ever talk to him this way, and here you were, a young low born northerner, mocking him. He didn't know why he enjoyed it coming from you, perhaps it was because your words meant nothing. You were no one, and he was the prince, and yet he found himself intrigued.

"That was quite a show, wasn't it?" He chuckled, the sound was hollow, not at all humorous.

"It was humiliating," you answered, the words escaping before you could stop them.

"Careful," he warned, his eyes narrowing. "You're lucky I find your insolence amusing."

"I thought it was why you had asked for me," you retorted, setting the shirt on the table and taking a step back.

He stood up from the chair, closing the space between the two of you. The air was thick with tension, his eyes boring into yours, his face was inches from yours.

"I didn't lose the tourney," he stated, his voice a low growl.

"You didn't win either," you countered, your cheeks flushed red, your heart racing in your chest.

He smiled, the gesture was almost predatory, he reached out and grabbed your face, his hands were rough and his grip was tight.

"You are quite the mouthy little wench," his words were a harsh whisper, his breath hot against your skin.

You didn't answer, afraid of what he would do if you spoke. He seemed to be enjoying himself, his eyes dancing with amusement as he stared at you.

"On your knees," he ordered, his tone demanding.

"My lord, I-" you protested, trying to pull away.

"Kneel," his voice was louder this time, and you knew that he was not going to repeat himself.

You hesitated for a moment, but he was the prince, and you couldn't disobey him. So you lowered yourself onto your knees, looking up at him, waiting for him to tell you what to do next.

"Is it true that northern girls can take a cock better than southern ones?" He asked, his hand still holding onto your chin.

You didn't know how to respond, his words making your cheeks burn. You could only stare at him, your mind reeling as you tried to figure out what he wanted.

He smiled, and the look in his eyes made your heart race. "Open your mouth, little northerner."

You did as he commanded, your eyes never leaving his. He pushed his thumb past your lips and slowly pressed down onto your tongue, rubbing it in circles before slowly dragging it out.

Your lips parted and your breathing became heavier as he traced his wet thumb across your bottom lip, his eyes fixated on the movement.

"Beautiful." He whispered before sliding his thumb back into your mouth, pushing it all the way into your throat, causing you to gag.

He pulled his thumb from your mouth and wiped the spit off on your cheek before grabbing you by the arms and lifting you up, turning you around and pushing you face first into the table.

"My lord," you gasped, struggling against his strong grip.

Daemon laughed at the look of shock on your face, his cock growing harder at the sight. "See? I knew you would make a great whore," he smirked, his words bringing a flush to your face.

He pulled your dress up, exposing your ass and legs. His hands were rough as he groped you, squeezing your thighs and your cheeks.

You pushed against him, trying to free yourself, but his grip was too strong. He pushed your thighs apart, his hand trailing up to your cunt, his fingers stroking your entrance, teasing you.

He softened at your defiance, a smirk crossing his lips. "I enjoy you, little northerner. Perhaps I should keep you," he mused.

He slid his finger into your cunt, his touch gentle and slow. You whimpered, pushing against him again.

"You would be my little northern flower," he murmured, his finger moving in and out of your cunt, the pace becoming quicker. "A blue rose in my garden."

You were ashamed of how aroused you were, the prince's touch was intoxicating, and you couldn't stop yourself from grinding your hips against his hand. You had never been with a man before and the pleasure he was giving you was beyond anything you had ever felt.

He slid another finger inside of you, his movements quick and rough. You moaned, biting your lip as you felt yourself getting closer to release.

He suddenly pulled away, the sudden absence of his touch made you whimper. He spun you around, knocking objects off the table and pinning you against it. Your hands went to his chest, pushing him back, but his grip was too strong, his eyes filled with lust.

"You're a feisty one," he whispered, his lips trailing down your neck, his hands gripping your ass, lifting you up and pressing you against his hips. "I guess it's true that the fires always burn hotter in the north,"

You shivered as he sucked and bit at the skin on your neck, his teeth scraping across your sensitive flesh, leaving red marks behind. You couldn't help but moan, the feeling was so intense, and the sounds were so sinful.

"My prince... I..." You stuttered, trying to find the words, but he cut you off with a kiss.

The feel of his hands on your body, his lips on yours, his cock hard against you, was intoxicating. You had never felt this way before, this desire, this want. He made you feel like you were drowning in the fire of his touch. He was a dragon, and he would take what he wanted.

You couldn't resist, you gave in, kissing him back, letting his tongue explore your mouth. He smelled of blood, dirt and sweat, a combination that shouldn't have been appealing, but was.

You could taste his lust on your lips, and it made you hungry for more. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pressing yourself closer to him, and he moaned, the sound rumbling in his chest. He was so much larger than you, so much stronger, and you felt so small in his arms.

His hand trailed down your chest, slowly untying the strings that held up your dress, his fingers tracing over the fabric, teasing you.

"Sweet little northern girl," he teased, his voice a low growl. "Are you going to give yourself to me?"

"Yes," you whispered, your cheeks flushed pink.

He kissed you again, his lips rough and demanding, his hand pushing your dress down, exposing your breasts. "You've never touched yourself before, have you?”

"No, my Prince," you whispered, your little hands curled into his chest, your nails digging into his skin.

"That's alright, I'll show you how it's done."

His hands slid down to your thighs, his fingers trailing up, his touch light and teasing. You let out a gasp as his fingers brushed over your cunt, touching a spot that made your body tremble.

"This little spot right here," he said, rubbing his thumb against it, "is the most sensitive part of your body. The more pressure, the better."

You nodded, gasping and moaning as he pressed his thumb against it, circling it. You could feel the heat rising within you, the pleasure building.

"Feels good doesn't it?" He whispered, his voice husky, his lips brushing against your ear.

"Y-yes," you stuttered, your hips moving, grinding against his hand.

He chuckled, the sound sending shivers down your spine.

"Do you like being my little whore, hmm?" He asked, his lips trailing down your neck, his kisses hot and wet.

"N-no," you moaned, pushing him back, trying to fight against him.

He laughed, his teeth nipping at your collarbone. "Liar," he whispered, his tongue licking over the marks he'd made.

His hands reaching down to his waist, undoing his breeches and pulling them off, his cock springing free. You gasped, your eyes wide as you took in the size of him.

He took your hand and placed it on his cock, his eyes burning into yours. "Go on, feel it," he whispered.

Your fingers curled around his cock, your small hand barely able to fit around him. You moved your hand, sliding it down the length of his shaft, his cock thick and pulsing in your hand. His skin was so warm and smooth, his breathing deepening as you began to move your hand up and down, stroking him slowly.

You could see the scars from battle stretched across his chest and torso. Small claw-like marks around his pectoral and a deep line that stretched down the left side of his rib cage. He was a hardened warrior, and you could tell by his scars, he had been through much to get where he was now.

You squeezed his cock, moving your hand up and down, his breathing deepening and his eyes growing hazy. He watched you, his gaze following every movement you made. You were starting to get more comfortable, taking pleasure in watching him, in making him feel good. You found the nerve to press the pad of your thumb against the tip, feeling the moisture leaking from him.

"Good girl," he praised, his voice low and husky.

You felt a wave of pride, knowing that you were pleasing him, that he liked the way you were touching him. You continued to stroke him, squeezing and pulling at his cock, watching his face, seeing the pleasure on his features.

He groaned, his eyes closing and his head tilting back, his breath catching. You could feel his cock throbbing in your hand, and you knew that he was getting close.

He let out a low growl and grabbed your wrist, halting your movements. "If you keep that up, I'm going to spill my seed all over this pretty little dress of yours," he said, his eyes full of heat.

"Is that so, my lord?" You asked, unable to hide the hint of amusement in your voice.

He grabbed your hips and pulled you under him, his body caging you, trapping you beneath him. He was breathing hard, his face flushed, his cock hard and resting on your stomach. His eyes burned into yours, his gaze intense, his hands gripping your hips, holding you steady.

You weren't talking back anymore, he could see the fear in your eyes, the hesitance, and that only made him want you more. His hand went to your throat, applying gentle pressure, a silent warning.

He could feel you trembling beneath him, and he tightened his grip, a primal, possessive urge rising within him. Your small hands pushing into his chest, clutching at his heated flesh.

"Open for me," he growled, his eyes fixed on yours.

You parted your thighs, allowing him to press closer to you. He growled, lifting your legs and wrapping them around his waist, his cock brushing against your cunt. He felt you tighten, your eyes widening with trepidation.

He chuckled, loving how terrified and eager you were at the same time. He gave you a moment, and then he slowly pushed into you. You whimpered, your nails digging into his back, your eyes closed, your face twisted in pain.

"Breathe," he said, rubbing his thumb against your cheek, "it will hurt for a just moment and then I will make you feel good,"

You nodded, taking a deep breath as you felt his cock hit your maidenhead.

"Are you ready, little northerner?" He whispered.

You gripped his forearms and nodded.

He pushed in slowly, breaking through your barrier. You cried out, the pain was intense and immediate. He groaned, the feel of your tight cunt was intoxicating.

He stayed still, giving you time to adjust. Your nails dug into his arms, leaving deep scratches in his flesh.

"Such a pretty, tight little cunt," he growled, nipping at your neck.

You kept your eyes closed, trying to focus on his words and not the pain. He began to move with slow, deep strokes, his cock stretching you, filling you. He was bigger than he felt in your hands, and you swore you could feel him everywhere.

He moaned, his hips rocking into you, his hand still on your throat, making you feel lightheaded. You looked up at him with wide eyes, your lips parted, your cheeks flushed. You felt so full of him, stretched open, the pain and pleasure mixing into one.

He watched your reaction with a smirk, amused by your shocked, satisfied expression. He was moving slowly, enjoying your warmth and the feel of your cunt clenching around him. He knew you were enjoying it, too, your eyes half-closed, a soft moan escaping your lip. Your small frame was arched to his body, your hands holding on to his neck.

You were surprised at his gentleness. You'd heard that the dragon prince liked to rough up women, but he was being as careful as if you were made of spun sugar. You felt so small and helpless underneath him, his large body nearly engulfing yours, and yet he wasn't hurting you. His touch was delicate, reverent. The way he spoke to you, calling you pet names, made your heart skip a beat.

You arched against him, a soft cry leaving your lips as his strokes got faster, deeper, hitting a place inside you that sent a sharp, hot pleasure through you.

"Does my little northerner like her prince's cock?" He said, a laugh in his voice, he began to pick up the pace, pounding into you.

You squeaked and pushed on his chest, the sensations becoming too much. He grabbed your hips and held you still, fucking you hard and fast, his eyes full of fire.

You felt your release rising up inside you, the tension in your body winding tighter and tighter. You could feel yourself clamping down on his cock, the pleasure almost too much, the sweet pain sending you over the edge.

He groaned at the sight of you coming undone, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps as you shattered around him. He could feel the tension in your muscles as your climax tore through you. He slowed his movements, easing out the last waves of pleasure, drawing it out until you were a shuddering, moaning mess.

He was close behind, his thrusts erratic, his breathing harsh. He pulled out and spilled his seed across your stomach, his hips bucking. He pressed his forehead against yours, his eyes closed, a contented sigh leaving his lips. At least he had one victory today.

Your face was hot with shame, your mind unable to comprehend what just happened. The prince's seed was cooling on your stomach and chest, the reality of the situation finally sinking in. Your hands went to your face, covering it as tears came to your eyes, you had never felt so good and so embarrassed at once.

He moved off of you, his eyes locked on yours, a smirk crossing his lips. He looked satisfied, his gaze wandering over your body, lingering on the wetness between your legs, the mess he'd made of you. He tossed you a cloth to clean yourself with. You wiped his seed off your skin, watching him dress, his blonde hair still braided back, his purple eyes full of lust and desire. He was a warrior, a dragon, he was beauty and strength, power and masculinity. He was everything you wanted and feared, a beast who could destroy you.

He gave you a side glance, his eyes full of amusement. "You may go," he said, shooing you away with a hand.

Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment, as you took a shaky breath. You stood up, gathering the pieces of your dress and your underclothes. Your legs were wobbly, and you felt weak, sore, and full of shame.

"Yes, my prince," you said quietly, looking at the floor, unable to meet his eyes.

He chuckled, the sound of his voice making you shiver. "Don't be so timid, little northerner. This is the beginning, not the end," he said, his words sending a jolt of fear and excitement through you.

He was right, this was only the beginning. You were his servant, and he could do with you as he pleased. He would have you come to him whenever he chose, on the warmest summer nights and the coldest winter days. He would take what he wanted, when he wanted.

He was a dragon, and his will was as strong as his blood.

And deep down, you knew you would enjoy it. He was the perfect thing to distract you from the mundanity of your life, the endless monotony of serving others.

Perhaps the Red Keep wouldn't be so terrible, not if it meant serving him.

[withleeknow]

my moon and stars.

pairing: minho x reader genre/warnings: established relationship, (tooth-rotting) fluff; even tho it's unedited this is still one of my favorite things that i've written on this blog so far !!! gaaaaaaah word count: 1.1k listen to 🎧: lover - taylor swift

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

nobody thought jeongin would be the next one to get married, but alas, here you are, at the reception of your friend's wedding, nursing a glass of champagne.

"come on," minho says, snatching the glass away from you and finishing the rest of it in one gulp, before he takes you by the hand and tugs you forward. "let’s go dance."

you can't even be annoyed that he basically just stole your drink. instead, you just laugh, and let the love of your life drag you to the dance floor.

he guides you to move in a slow rhythm, matching the tempo of the song that's playing in the background. it's a song that you would usually think is overrated and has been played to hell and back, but in the moment, drunk on the cozy atmosphere, you think it's nice. you briefly wonder what song you would choose for your first dance at your own wedding.

it's just a fleeting thought. you've been having those all day.

jeongin's wedding was beautiful. everything was done to perfection, and you have no doubt that most of it was overseen by his girlfriend.

nope, correction: she's his wife now.

nevertheless, you've been imagining yourself and minho in a similar setting. you in a stunning white dress. him, dashing in a classy suit. the two of you exchanging vows with teary eyes in front of your friends and families. the cats as ring bearers. sealing forever with a deep kiss and fond smiles.

as you continue to sway along to the music, you wrap your arms around minho's neck and pull him closer. there's something in the way that he's been treating you all day that makes you melt even more than it usually does. he's been more touchy; there's not a single moment where his hands aren't on your body in any way, whether it be a hand on your knee, on the small of your back, or an arm around your waist. minho isn't often overt with his affection like that; he tends to dote on you in the privacy of your own loving bubble, away from anyone and everyone.

then, there's the softness that he's looking at you with in his chocolate brown eyes. it's warm, saccharine; it makes you feel like you two are the only people left in the room even though this is supposed to be someone else's big day.

"i love you," he says suddenly, brushing his nose against yours before leaning in just a tad closer to your lips, "you mean the world to me."

it's rare for minho to say things like this out of the blue. he's a man of few words after all.

he's full of surprises today, it seems.

"what's the occasion?" you ask with a coy smile.

"no occasion. just wanted to tell you that."

you close the distance, pressing your lips against his as his arms wrap themselves tighter around your body. "i love you too," you smile against him.

he mirrors your smile, and kisses you deeper. he's so sweet today, so openly loving with you even as your friends around you watch on.

you have an inkling that maybe, just maybe, he's been thinking the same things as you.

you stay in each other's arms until the song ends, then another one, then a couple more, just basking in soothing glow of love that's covering the air tonight. minutes pass with kisses shared, until it's finally time for the bouquet toss.

minho reluctantly lets you leave his side for the first time since the morning. his eyes follow you as you move to the front of the room, standing a comfortable distance away from the bride. you've never really been interested in this kind of things anyway; you're just doing it for the sake of participation.

everyone else is engrossed in what's about to happen, their eyes fixed on the bride and the peonies in her hands, but minho is only focused on you. you, who's trying to blend in with the group of people and undoubtedly praying that the bouquet doesn't make its way into your hands. you, whom he thinks looks so beautiful, all dolled up for the special occasion. you, who made his heart stutter when you walked into the room in your pretty dress and flashed him a bashful smile. (but who is he kidding? you make his heart want to give out and run away every single morning when he wakes up and sees you peacefully sleeping in his arms.)

just you. always only you.

you, you, you.

you don't hang in the moon in the sky. you are the moon, you are the stars.

minho watches you watch the bride as she counts down from 3, then flings the bouquet up in the air while everyone waits with bated breath. it's a mess of flailing arms from what he can tell, a couple of the bridesmaids practically fighting each other to try and grab the damn thing.

you try to make yourself smaller, to duck lower so that the others could have the honor instead of you. but when the flowers come hurling toward you, you have no choice but to raise your hands and catch it, lest you want to be lobbed in the face with a bouquet of peonies.

some of the people around you sigh frustratedly, but most of the guys around minho suddenly burst into loud cheers. they clap him on the back and shake him by the shoulders but still, he remains transfixed on you and your adorable wide-eyed expression. your parted lips and doe eyes blinking fast as a rosy flush creeps up your skin.

your eyes find him in an instant, and you both just stare at each other for a moment. he reckons that you're trying to gauge his reaction, because the room is now filled with excited squeals of congratulations and half-hearted jokes of how you and minho are going to be the next ones to get hitched.

you look uncertain, still frozen in place with your hands clutching the peonies.

but then he just smiles, and it makes you smile too, your body immediately relaxing as you give him a wave using the bouquet, your shoulders slumping slightly when you release a sigh.

to minho, it doesn't matter whether you caught the flowers or not; neither of you believes in that kind of stuff anyway. it doesn't matter because he's always known that he was going to marry you, that there's no one else he would rather spend the rest of his life with.

it doesn't matter because unbeknownst to you, he's already got a velvet box hidden somewhere in your shared home, with a gorgeous diamond ring inside just waiting for the day it can be put on your finger.

permanent taglist: @onlyycb97wife @starsandrqindrops @borahae-reads @abbiestearsricochet @cutiespaghetti @anthropologykpopmultistan @moonlinos @mjnhoz @caitlyn98s @piercidh34rts  @stayceebs97

all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 08.01.2024]

[onlyangel4]

onlyangel4 1k event - P4. YT22. SMAU.

trope: secret long term relationship

pairing: yuki tsunoda x fiancé!reader

faceclaim: kiko mizuhara

1k event

y/nprivinsta

liked by y/bff, yukitsunoda, alexandrasaintmleux and 102 others

tagged: yukitsunoda

y/nprivinsta: this year was my third summer break as a wag and i have to say it was the best one yet

view all 41 comments

yukitsunoda: i fucked it for myself i'll never top this

y/nprivinsta: gonna have to think outside of the box baby

y/bff: i haven't stopped crying since you facetimed me

y/nprivinsta: i love you so much

alexandrasaintmleux: we need to go out and celebrate

iamrebeccad: i'm coming

flavy.barla: and me

francisca.cgomes: me too

pierregasly: so happy for you both

y/nprivinsta: thank you pierre!

landonorris: omg the shortest couple in f1 are getting married

y/nprivinsta: you really have the attitude of a six foot man

alexandrasaintmleux

liked by flavy.barla, iamrebeccad, charlesleclerc and 1,202,009 others

tagged: flavy.barla. iamrebeccad. francisca.cgomes. lilymhe.

alexandrasaintmleux: ladies night

view all 32,101 comments

flavy.barla: the best night ever

alexandrasaintmleux: even if we did lose y/n for a hot minute

user1: who tf is y/n

iamrebeccad: love you all

lilymhe: the best night out in a long time

user2: so we know they are all wags but who is that other girl

user3: the logical side of my brain says just a friend but the delulu side of my brain makes me think maybe we have a new wag

user4: i need to know who that other girl is

y/nprivinsta posted a story

written: watching the whole f1 community blow up trying to find out who i am has me giggling

yukitsunoda: they are guessing that you are a wag for literally anyone but me

y/nprivinsta: yeah i read an article that i'm lando's secret girlfriend

f1updates

liked by user6, user7, user8 and 45,283 others

f1updates: so lando was just questioned about the girl, y/n in alex's new instagram post and his reaction is the funniest thing ever

interviewer: "so is it true that you have a new girl in your life"

lando (confused as ever): "what? wait you mean y/n"

*he started hysterically laughing*

lando: "no me and y/n are not together, jesus christ you guys need to stop believing everything that you see on twitter, you are going to get me killed"

view all 4,211 comments

user6: that response makes me think she is deffo a wag

user7: but who is she dating lando

user8: y'all need to stop being so fucking nosey

y/nprivinsta posted a story tagging yukitsunoda

written: last dinner with my fiancée, here's to many more with my husband

alexandrasaintmleux posted a story

written: the last time i posted this girl f1 twitter almost went up in flames

f1updates posted a story

written: guys an interviewer just asked yuki if he did anything exciting with his summer break. his response was "well i got married" AND THEN HE JUST WALKED OFF

yukitsunoda

liked by y/nprivinsta, pierregasly, alexandrasaintmleux and 1,002,932 others

tagged: y/nprivinsta

yukitsunoda: introducing y/n tsunoda, the love of my life

view all 176,384 comments

y/nprivinsta: i love you more than anything

yukitsunoda: more than sakura

y/nprivinsta: know your place that cat is my child

pierregasly: the best wedding ever

yukitsunoda: do you even remember it, you were so drunk

landonorris: i still can't believe people were shipping me with your wife

yukitsunoda: count your days norris

user9: holy shit yuki married a BADDIE

user10: omg they have a cat that is so cute

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

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@queen-of-the-hunt

@piastrams

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[fics-lovebot]

bts fic recs

main masterlist

· · ♡ · · tysm to the amazing creative minds of the writers for giving me sevaral moments of joy reading your creations

i´ll be constantly updating this list so make sure to check it out often for new recs

pls remember to reblog if you like any of my recs❤️

divider creds: @notaorbital & @v6que

LAST UPDATED: 14/11/2024

here you can find jungkook ´s m.list

poly / ot7

love octagon? - ( @whyse7vn ) this was just too funny to me fsdfhsd, i always read it when a want to lift my mood

lovesick - ( @angelicyoongie ) yandere ot7, soulmate au, stalking, harrasment, you got 7 soulmates you don´t know about the you deff know about you, this is an on going series, hopefully i´ll be updated soon bc i loved it

seokjin

tba

yoongi

yoongi joins you in your bath and you talk about your days - ( @borathae) fluffy, vampire!yoongs, this is so wholesome :(

bewitched - ( @borathae) smut, fluff, vamp!yoongi, witch!reader, you put a spell on him so he cant cum till you say so, ON MY SOUL I FELT THIS ALL THE WAY TO MY TOES, the smut is gewwwd and the fluff is amazing ughhh, loved it

namjoon

namjoon loves creampies - ( @euphoricfilter ) smut obv, he is an ASS gUY as he shouldd, he luvs him some reverse cowgirl position, obssesed with watching cum dripping outta you, he´s just laying there thinking nasty stuff while watching you ride or die, its TEW MUCHHH

belly bulge -( @euphoricfilter ) ,,,,,do you even have to ask what this is about?, ITS A LOT GOING ONNNNNN, talking about big beeffy thick wide strong bear built namjoon and his big ol dicc, who wouldnt like this??, he jerks himself off throught your stomach...

forg_tful - ( @joon4eva ) established relationship, angstt, fluff, this one makes me cry every tIMEEEE, he forgets something important for the 2394823948th time so reader thinks he just doesn´t care, he doesn´t like being away from her :((((, but he owns it up bc he is a grown mature emotionally stable man, we love it

love language - ( @rmnamjoons ) soulmate au, mute!reader, non idol au. THE FLUFF IS BEAUTIFULLLLLLL, i love joons pov before meeting her, and the day the meet???? i died, it was so cute

blushes from a rose - ( @army-author ) fluff, supernatural au, popular witch!namjoon, shy forest nymph!reader, so like,,i need a movie of this asap

hoseok

tba

jimin

split - ( @sombreboy ) smut, snake hybrid!jimin, he has a fORKED tongue and TWO cocks!!!! :D NOW THIS, i remember reading it a long time ago and thinking it was the best hybrid!jimin fic out there, i´ve read about him being a cat, a dog, etc but a SNAKE??? now that´s new, loved it

faded love - ( @jamaisjoons ) angst, fluff, cheating husband!jimin, ceo!jimin. "he doesn’t need to say it. because you can feel your husband, park jimin, falling out of love with you." ANGST FESSSTTTT, another one for my personal collection, i love this sm

taehyung

devotion - ( @borathae) smut, vampire!tae, period sex, multiple orgasms, period blood licking, its a LOT GOING ON I- wow, pls just read it

These Things Take Time - ( @laughing-with-god ) yandere! supernatural tae, gaslighting, gore, horror, ex bf jimin, this is written so well , ghost? tae but not really, doppleganger kinda thing, loved it

let love be enough - ( @jingabitch ) ex-husband!tae, cheater!tae, divorce au, you meet again after 20 years on your daughter´s wedding. YUPPP this is an angst fest right here, probably my favorite tae angsty fic out there, i LOVE IT

the curse of a crush - ( @army-author ) fluff, supernatural au, down bad witch!taehyung, witch!reader, he´s so in love with you he thinks you´ve cursed him with a love potion, SO CUTEEE

[utahimeow]

even death will not do us part — satoru gojo

summary — your wedding day with satoru gojo is not exactly conventional.

pairing — satoru gojo x f!reader

warnings — slightly suggestive beginning, pure fluff, established relationship

word count — 3.9k

author’s note — for satoru’s birthday ♡ i put my heart and soul and blood and sweat and tears into this and i hope u can tell. it may be the best writing i���ve ever done, so if u read it, thank u and i love u. also it’s like extremely sappy so pls keep that in mind lol

After a seemingly endless night, tendrils of golden sunlight come crawling through the blinds. They dance over your flesh that’s dotted with soft bites from your lover, and warm it like soft kisses until your eyes peel open.

Satoru’s already awake, ocean eyes gazing at you. A wave of memories of how he touched you so ardently the night before comes washing over you. After it, a wave of heat, his lustful poetry echoing in your mind until it pools between your thighs. Finally, the heat subsides into something warm, a gentle glow which settles within your ribs.

“Good morning,” your lover rasps, voice heavy with sleep. 

You reach out to him until your hand finds his face, your fingers grazing over soft pink skin, your thumb tracing the ridge of his cheekbone. He’s slightly puffy, eyes still ever so slightly droopy, but slumber is not the only thing that simmers in them.

“Good morning,” you reply, your words hoarse yet covered in honey.

For a while, neither one of you says anything, instead basking in one another. Satoru drinks in the sight of you laying next to him, gulps and gulps and gulps it down like it’s red wine, until he’s drunk. 

“Marry me,” he says. Time stops moving and your heart stops beating momentarily. Your mouth tries to move, tries to give a response, but every word you’ve ever learned suddenly abandons your memory. 

He laughs, so obnoxiously beautiful, but within his eyes that carry a millennium of history there is only pure sincerity.

It shouldn’t surprise you this much—his question—not when Satoru had long since carved a space inside your heart, and you in his. You’d been together so long that sometimes you both forgot you weren’t married, and Satoru had a habit of casually stating things like “when I make you my wife”, because it was undisputed that he would marry you.

Still, somehow you didn’t see it coming, and not like this. Satoru Gojo was a man of grandeur–always dramatic, always making a scene, always showing off in some shape or form, whether it was you or his cursed technique. The last place you would expect him to propose was in bed at ten a.m. after a night where he made you see God himself. Although, the more you think about it, this is where he is home. Where he bears the deepest parts of his being to you and where he may shed the weight of a society that idolises him as a god. Where he can ask you to marry him as just Satoru.

“Don’t go shy on me,” he says, still amused by your disbelief. 

“I-yes. Yes, I’ll marry you,” you say, sobbing out a laugh, launching yourself into his embrace and burying your face into his bare chest. 

“What if we did it today?” he asks, his voice reverberating through you until it almost puts you back to sleep.

“Did what?” you ask.

“Got married.”

Your head shoots up, your eyes flitting rapidly over each of his nonchalant features. Once more, you don’t find a single hint that he’s kidding. “You’re insane.”

“You love me for it,” he says, his face like a mischievous cat’s. “And I can’t spend another minute without you being my wife, so please, elope with me.”

Unlike Satoru, you were never exactly one for grand gestures. He knew you never had dreams of a big fairytale wedding with hundreds of guests or a giant hall, and it’s precisely one of the reasons why he’s asking this of you.

“The higher-ups are going to be pissed,” you say, leaning in close to his face until there’s hardly a hair’s width between your noses. 

“That’s the point,” he tells you. “Is that another yes, then?”

You stare into the depths of his irises, the ones that are swimming with adoration, the ones that have never changed how they stare at you, even after all these years. Not that you had any doubts before, but suddenly you’ve never wanted anything more. The feeling settles into your bloodstream, to your bones, to the very core of your being–certainty.

“Yes, Satoru, I’ll elope with you,” you say, and then your lips are on his. There’s a million words in the way he kisses you, ones that he would never be able to speak even if he tried, so he kisses you and kisses you in hopes that you’ll understand them. He kisses you like it’s the only thing keeping him alive. It is.

You part, sorrowfully, heads spinning, but then you remember you have things to do. 

“I need to start getting ready,” you say, and you already know exactly what his response will be–a groan, a whine, and him begging you to stay in his arms for a little while longer. 

He does just that. 

“Satoruuu,” you say, mimicking the way he whines your name. “The sooner I get ready the sooner we’ll be married. Isn’t that what you want?”

He pouts for the sake of pouting, then his arms loosen around your waist and you leave him with a peck upon his lips before tossing yourself out of bed. 

You spend the next hour and something at your vanity, having never imagined that your wedding day would leave you doing your own hair and makeup.

After Satoru brings you a cup of coffee and plants a chaste kiss to your temple, he heads to the bathroom to shower, leaving you to finish getting yourself ready. When he returns twenty minutes later, he finds you standing in your walk-in closet in only your bra and underwear, looking terribly focused. You don’t need to be a mind-reader to know he wants to tell you to go as you are—he refrains, however. It’s a miracle that he’s able to.

“You should wear that white dress you have. The one with the sleeves,” he suggests, flapping his arms and immediately you know which one he’s talking about. A plain white minidress with flared mesh sleeves and sweetheart neckline that you wore to a fancy dinner once. You fish it out, and Satoru approaches you as you step into it and pull it up your hips. Wordlessly, he zips the back up, holding his breath as he does. 

“I don’t think you’re supposed to see me yet,” you quip, giggling when you turn to face him. 

“Baby, there’s nothing conventional about how we’re getting married,” he grins, giving your ass a tap as you walk past him to pick out your jewellery. 

Of course, he insists on putting your necklace on for you too, a dainty Tiffany chain with a diamond sun pendant that he gifted you for your birthday years back because he liked to call you his sun. Again, the feather-light brush of his fingers over your skin sends bolts of lightning shooting to your fingertips. It’s reminiscent of the way he made you feel a decade ago, before he had even kissed you for the first time, when his cheesy, cat-like smile would send your heart racing and heat rushing to your face. When butterflies would erupt in your belly and you felt like you were floating. For some reason you found it hard to believe that feelings like that would persist, but it is in Satoru’s blood to prove you wrong, and he did, and he does still.

You decide on a pair of glimmering white Jimmy Choo heels, but before you can even think to put them on, Satoru is on his knees, softly grasping each leg of yours so he can slip the shoes on and carefully tighten the straps one by one. It’s something that never fails to make you giddy–to make you question if you’re even worthy of this man (you know you are, after all he’d spent the last few years doing everything in his power to prove to you that he’s the lucky one between you). Still, you think it’s perfectly valid to wonder what you’ve done to deserve someone like this.

Satoru stands then, a perpetual smile upon his glossy pink lips. He’s in a pair of pressed black slacks that hug his thick, toned legs, and a crisp white shirt with the sleeves rolled up and the top buttons left open (because you always tell him you like how good he looks) and nothing to cover his eyes. You’re the only person he’ll be looking at today, after all. He’d die before letting anything obscure his view of you.

He takes your hand and raises it into the air and twirls you around, his eyes drinking in every detail of you, inhaling your sweet, angelic scent, and now it’s his turn to wonder how he managed to get so lucky, as if it doesn’t occupy his mind from the very second he wakes up to the moment he falls asleep. 

He’s still unlearning the idea that he’s alone because it was all that he ever knew from the day that he was born. He’s always had friends and caretakers and people who admired him and who depended on him and who worshipped him, but he was always there at the top, the closest thing to a god that a human could be—by himself. No one could possibly understand him enough to be by his side, not really. Then one day you came along and you slithered your way into the cracks and crevices of his very being and refused to budge, and you showed him that he’s not alone, that there are people who he can trust and depend on and people who he can love. 

He never lets go of your hand, pulling you close to his chest and grinning down at you. His eyes gleam with a mischief that’s all too familiar, one that’s got you instantly suspicious.

“Please don’t hate me,” he says but it’s without any real concern. 

You have an inkling as to what he’s planning, but you don’t even get the chance to open your mouth to question him because one moment you’re standing in the foyer of your home and the next you’re outside of the Tokyo Metropolitan Government Building. 

He predicts the way you smack his chest and whine out a mildly irritated “Satoru!”–it only makes him grin harder, because he knows how much you hate when he teleports you without warning, but right now he just can’t wait another moment (and neither can you) so you don’t have it in you to be genuinely displeased.

As he makes his way to the entrance, you tug on his arm suddenly to stop him after a certain realisation hits you. 

“Satoru, don’t we need a witness?” you ask. 

His eyes narrow in thought and he looks around, cartoon-like, before his face fills with resolution and he’s strolling away from the building with you in tow. 

“Excuse me,” he exclaims, and you follow his gaze to where an older couple are walking by, hands intertwined. They turn to him inquisitively, so he continues. “My gorgeous fiancée here and I are about to be wed. All of our friends were too busy today, so we don’t have any witnesses. Would you spare a moment of time for a young, smitten couple?”

You roll your eyes, but the grin smirk your lips betrays you. “We’re sincerely sorry for interrupting your day. What my insufferable fiancé here means to say is we would appreciate it greatly if you would be our witnesses.”

The couple take a glance at one another, silently communicating before they face you and Satoru once more, nodding their heads.

“It’s our day off, we were just going to walk around the city anyway,” the lady explains, her pale, weathered lips stretching into a gentle smile.

Thus, you waltz into the city hall altogether, and only now does it begin to settle in that you’re about to marry Satoru Gojo. The morning had gone by so quickly– you’d only been awake less than four hours, and during that time you never once stopped to let any of it sink in.

Now, it sinks in. All the way to your core, to the fibres and cells that make up your being. Inside your ribs your heart is swollen, filled to the brim with scarlet red until it overflows and paints everything around it, until every part of you, every seam that holds you together has been altered, touched by something that Satoru gifted you on the first day you met him.

Your lover seems to move in slow motion. Your breath is caught in your throat. It’s a dream, you’re sure of it. Then Satoru squeezes your hand, ever perceptive of your thoughts, and reminds you that it’s not. 

After gathering a pile of documents, a man in a suit takes you to a room that’s a smaller version of a court and begins to lay out the papers, simultaneously explaining each one’s purpose and indicating what you and Satoru must fill out. You provide him with your own documents–birth certificates and proof of residence, and then the two strangers who had offered themselves to you as witnesses give their signatures. 

Your officiant makes his speech in a professional language, far from the flowery words given by priests or family friends in churches or venues adorned with flowers and ribbons along every wall.

Lack of preparation means your vows are a repetition of a script written decades ago: you take Satoru to be your husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and cherish; from this day forward until death do us part.

During Satoru’s turn, he hesitates. His eyes shine with a strange epiphany as he stares down at you. 

“...From this day forward, until the end of time. Even death will not do us part.”

There are no words in any language, dead or alive, that are adequate enough to describe the elation you experience. There is no concept, idea, or theory that would truly reveal the way that you are consumed by love for him. It runs through your bloodstream, intrinsic to your very being. 

The officiant announces that you and Satoru are husband and wife. Now you are one flesh and bone. He leans forward, kisses you, and it’s a promise of eternal devotion.

Outside of the city hall, where time no longer stands still but you still feel as though you are not inside of your body, your husband Satoru Gojo bows to the man and woman who made your marriage possible. 

Satoru Gojo does not bow. And while it is easy to attribute it to some god complex, to the product of his upbringing, as many do, those to whom Satoru has shown his soul know that it is rebellion. It is the denial of a convention he refuses to assimilate with, one he does not believe in, one which begs children to be grateful to those who have sown them as though they had the choice to be sown.

When Satoru Gojo does bow, it is not without good reason. Most often it is only when he owes someone his life—so he bows to the two strangers, whose signatures on a piece of paper mean that he is eternally yours.

Beside him, you bow too.

“Thank you,” Satoru says, then both of you straighten up to find the couple smiling before you. There is kindness etched into every line on their face, a fondness simmering in their eyes. Their arms are linked, and all of a sudden you’re looking in a mirror.

“Congratulations on your marriage,” the woman says. “I’m certain you will flourish together.”

“You know, young people are always getting into relationships, but seeing true love like what you have with one another… It’s a rare thing nowadays. Please cherish that,” the man says.

“We’ll be forever grateful for you,” you say. “Thank you.”

The four of you part, but the couple, whose names you do not know, now lives in a part of your mind that can never be erased.

The first thing Satoru does as your husband, as you walk down the streets of Tokyo with your hands laced together, is suddenly disappear into a flower shop as you pass by it, before emerging once more and handing you a bouquet of crimson carnations and white roses with a cheshire cat smile on his face.

“Your wedding bouquet,” he says.

“Oh, Satoru, they’re beautiful,” you muse, allowing your nose to absorb their earthy scent. “Thank you.”

You tug him by the hand that’s woven with yours, pulling him down to plant a kiss upon his cheek.

The next stop is a jewellery store, and you yelp as Satoru pulls you inside with him this time. 

“Pick whatever ring you like, baby,” he tells you as you stand before the glass case where thousands of crystals glimmer back at you, splayed out on a bed of white. “Just to wear until you pick your actual one.”

Blood warms your face. It’s not meant to be a brag. Even if he didn’t have generations of wealth in his bank account, he’d buy you as many rings as you wanted until you found the perfect one. For you, he would find a way.

Your eyes wander over every diamond, over gold and silver and platinum, and it’s not long at all before they all start to look the same. Not wanting to spend your entire wedding day inside a jewellery store, you land on a simple diamond-studded silver band and point it out to Satoru.

“That one?” he asks. 

You nod, a satisfied smile making your lips curl.

Satoru flags down the jeweller, a thin woman with shiny skin, requesting the ring you want. She tells him each of the five diamonds weighs 0.2 carats, making the ring a total of one carat, as if it’ll make a difference to either of you. He doesn’t ask her for the price, but she tells him it’s 550,000 yen—practically theft for someone from the Gojo clan. 

After picking out a matching plain silver band for himself, you and Satoru leave the store and continue strolling through the city. To everyone else, you look like no more than an enamoured couple like the millions of others in Tokyo, and while a part of Satoru feels like he wants to wander up to random strangers to brag to them that you’re his wife, another part cherishes this little secret between you two.

From the day he was born, Satoru Gojo’s wedding was to be a grand affair. Sorcerers from far and wide would gather to witness the expansion of the Gojo clan. It was to be a several day-long event, planned intricately by the higher ups without room for any say from the bride and groom. Satoru did not want that—not for himself, but especially not for you.

Now he laughs as he imagines the higher ups’ faces when they realise he has not only married but eloped behind their backs. Though he thinks he’ll keep his left hand in his pocket the next few times he pays them a visit, at least for a few weeks.

“What?” you ask. His grin spreads from his face to yours.

“Nothing. Are you hungry?” 

“Ugh, yes,” you say. Suddenly your empty stomach becomes even emptier, howling agonisingly loudly.

“Sushi Go?” 

“Please.” 

The nearest one is ten minutes away. When you get there, you sit in a booth next to the conveyor belt, with Satoru insisting on shoving himself into the seat next to you rather than across from you. As soon as his heat radiates into you, however, you feel like melting into him.

After ordering almost the entire menu despite your scolding, Satoru finds the ring boxes and pulls them out of the ribbon-tied bag from the jeweller. He takes your left hand, gently, as though you’re made of glass, and slides the glittering ring onto your fourth finger. He brings it to his lips, then his velvety lips kiss just above where the ring rests.

“Beautiful,” he says. He’s looking at your eyes, not the ring.

You twist it around your finger, lungs empty as it catches every ray of light that comes its way and tosses it back at your eyes. 

“It’s a little big, but I love it.”

“I’ll get you the perfect one, don’t worry,” he says. “To make up for no engagement ring.”

“You make me sound so materialistic,” you quip, taking his hand into yours and slipping the matching silver band onto his bony finger.

“Just spoiled,” he corrects.

You narrow your eyes at him, but it turns into hearts not a moment later. He makes it impossible.

“I love you, Satoru Gojo,” you say, holding up your hands as you lace your fingers together with his.

“I love you,” he says, and the smug, cocky front vanishes, and he bares himself, his true self, to you. “More than anything in this world. I’m gonna prove it to you every single day from now on.”

Your giggle is drenched in fondness. “You already do that.”

“Then I’ll do it even better. This is a promise of that,” he says, thumb stroking over the ring he put on your finger.

His eyes don’t hold an ounce of hesitation, of questioning, of doubt. Only truth.

Your food arrives, and you wish you could say you feel bad about how overtly gross you and Satoru are being, feeding sushi rolls to each other with twinkling eyes, but everything inside you is screaming with euphoria that you can’t bring yourself to care. 

You wipe a drop of soy sauce from the corner of his lips, and he stares at you like you put the sun and the stars and the moon in the sky.

Not to your surprise, you and Satoru don’t finish all of the food he ordered. One of the waiters offers to box up the leftovers, then returns with two paper bags and hands them to your husband, whose unoccupied hand takes yours once more.

He decides he wants to take you to the park. He’s not sure why. It just feels right, and all you want is to spend time with him, so you tell him the park sounds perfect. It’s only another fifteen minute walk, anyway.

When you get there, the emerald lawns are teeming with families, couples, friends. Children run as if they can fly, dogs chase after tennis balls like it is their life mission. Satoru whisks you away from it all however, taking you into the trees.

Nestled amongst the Japanese chinquapin and zelkovas, a cherry blossom spreads its branches out like arms, its blossoms like pink fingertips that flutter as the wind swims through them. Satoru sinks into the cushion of grass at the base of the tree, leaning his broad back against the trunk. Like a cat, you find your way into his lap and rest your head upon his chest, next to his heart. The way his arms wrap around you is instinct.

Sparrows and finches flit about the branches, dancing as they move from one tree to another. Two turtle doves perch together, huddling into the other even though the air is warm.

Even if you and Satoru do not stay bound together in this life, if death takes you or him early, one thing you know for certain—you’ll find him again in another life. Right now, however, you have him in this life, and nothing else matters.

dedicated to @ushiwhacka and @tetsuskei <3 i love u both

[courtofblooming]

my favorite elriel fics. 🦇♡

a long masterlist of my all time favorite elriel fanfictions on ao3, after being a fan of this couple for 4 years. all these fanfictions are special to me and i hope i can help other elriels that have been looking for recommendations. ✧・˚

— info: all completed fics. <3

!! ₊ ˚ ୨୧ ⋅ ̥ യ . 𖥔

“Golden Doe in a Valley of Shadow” by Violetasteracademic, canon compliant, elriel’s story after acosf, forbidden love, angst, fluff, smut, long fic. ♡ (https://archiveofourown.org/works/54831724/chapters/138983473)

“A Court of Bones in Bloom” by ladyveravincent, canon compliant, elriel’s story after acosf, forbidden love, long fic, slow burn, eight court theory, angst, eventual smut. ♡ (https://archiveofourown.org/works/58554709/chapters/149179024)

“Pretty Little Angel” by DottieLovegood, canon compliant, elriel’s story after acosf with a twist, BDSM, azriel owns a club, smutty. ♡ (https://archiveofourown.org/works/30617429/chapters/75532637)

“Freshly Baked” by elainsroses, canon compliant, series with three oneshots in it, fluff and domestic, elriel are together and happy, baking, kisses and a pregnancy plot, pure fluff. ♡ (https://archiveofourown.org/series/2759089)

“Wildest Dreams” by tswaney17, canon compliant, established relationship, elain and azriel’s children, happy endings, pure fluff, elriel have a little family together, soft azriel. ♡ (https://archiveofourown.org/works/55844830)

“Stargirl” by duskandcobalt, canon compliant, elain and azriel are spending some time together when elain has a vision, smut, sneaking around, secret relationship, stolen moments, kitchen sex. ♡ (https://archiveofourown.org/works/50867182/chapters/128505301)

“For A Taste Of You (I Will Do Anything)” by keeparecordofthewreckage, one shot, post acosf solstice, smut and smut and angst, set on starfall, did i mention smut? (https://archiveofourown.org/works/36913843)

“A Tapestry of Dreams and Reality” by ImaginativeInk, canon compliant, elain’s cauldron powers, elain and azriel find themselves in the mystical realm of dreams and their connection continues to unfold. (https://archiveofourown.org/works/53269846)

“Be still, my foolish heart” by roselensedeyes, canon divergence, adoption, original characters (children), adopted children, elriel are mates, wedding + pregnancy, elain volunteers at an orphanage in velaris. ♡ (https://archiveofourown.org/works/50680402/chapters/128026141)

“Love Confessions, Meddling Brothers and Raspberry Tarts” by obisidian_witch, canon compliant, angst with a happy ending, secret relationship, secrets, chosen love, post acosf, elain learns the truth about what transpired on that dreadful solstice night, from both azriel and rhysand. ♡ (https://archiveofourown.org/works/57625048)

“Across the Hallway” by tswaney17, modern au, elain is a baker + azriel is a detective, small fic (5 chapters), elain has a cat! (https://archiveofourown.org/works/39325395/chapters/98412099 )

“Night of Wings and Roses” by ThatTrable, canon compliant, fluff and angst, post acosf solstice, feyre as the wingwomen. ♡ (https://archiveofourown.org/works/43561515)

“all’s well that ends well (to end up with you)” by miss_belivet, canon compliant, set on acofas solstice, elriel are mates, the bond snaps in front of everyone, potatoes. ♡ (https://archiveofourown.org/works/40069968/chapters/100352508)

“To Dine Like Gods” by elainsroses, canon compliant, pure smut, body worship, azriel has found god between elain’s thighs. (https://archiveofourown.org/works/56211508)

“Too Sweet (for me)” by slythrhys, canon compliant, forbidden love, pure smut, secret relationship, azriel can’t get elain out of his head. (https://archiveofourown.org/works/55180729/chapters/139943131)

“Kneading Dough” by tswaney17, canon compliant, one shot, fluff and smut, in the kitchen, mostly smut + shadow play (https://archiveofourown.org/works/40041990)

“Crimson Clover” by miss_belivet, canon compliant, blood kink, azriel reacting to elain carrying out an extreme act of violence, protective elain, auntie elain, lain protects nyx, its bloody. (https://archiveofourown.org/works/42530709/chapters/106825986)

“Bound in Ivy” by yourstarsmyscars, canon compliant, secret relationship, elain’s powers, forbidden love, smut, elain has a secret, azriel wants to find out. (https://archiveofourown.org/works/46678417/chapters/117559789)

“The Bet” by DottieLovegood, modern au, pure smut, established relationship! (https://archiveofourown.org/works/34488118)

“I Do Bad Things with You” by tswaney17, modern au, long fic, mob boss azriel, doctor elain, angst and smut, ex lovers + slow burn. (https://archiveofourown.org/works/31926901/chapters/79064530)

“Woman Made of Flowers” by yourstarsmyscars, medieval au, enemies to lovers, azriel kidnaps elain, azriel and elain are from enemy kingdoms. (https://archiveofourown.org/works/44467921/chapters/111848692)

“We Don’t Have To Dance” by Separatist_Apologist, canon compliant, post acosf solstice, set on hewn city, elain makes azriel quite literally beg on his knees, jealous azriel, elain taking her revenge after the solstice, smut. (https://archiveofourown.org/works/44899510)

“The Pointe of Love” by pinkrasberryfish, elriel + nessian centric, modern au, nesta and elain are prima ballerinas, they dance at the velaris ballet company. (https://archiveofourown.org/works/43076520/chapters/108246912)

“Freefall” by yourstarsmyscars, one shot, canon compliant, elriel angst, pining, smutty ending, post solstice, yearning. (https://archiveofourown.org/works/43696293/chapters/109975251#workskin)

“The First Solstice” by NikeTheStatue, one shot, canon compliant, re-imagining of the acofas solstice in azriel’s pov (headache power + gardening plans till 3am) (https://archiveofourown.org/works/43749949)

“Breathless” by miss_belivet, one shot, canon compliant, post acosf solstice, forbidden love, smut, sneaking around, elriel do the dishes after a family dinner. (https://archiveofourown.org/works/46398019)

“Wrap Me in Your Skin and Bones” by citizenofvelaris, azriel and elain sequester themselves in the townhouse, mating bond frenzy, elriel are true mates, some peace and quiet. (https://archiveofourown.org/works/53212210/chapters/134650879)

“Guilty As Sin?” by fawnandshadows, one shot, modern au, elain moves to a new apartment after her breakup and gets a hot firefighter as neighbor, azriel is a firefighter. (https://archiveofourown.org/works/55702369)

“6/8” by Shulkitten, alternative universe - music, azriel plays the piano, one shot, vanilla elriel, smut and fluff, elain has a hand kink, azriels is elains piano teacher. (https://archiveofourown.org/works/40513584)

“Touch Me, Hold Me, Tell Me” by miss_belivet, canon compliant, post acosf solstice, azriel disobeys rhys orders, plot what plot?, forbidden love, secret relationship, azriel is feral, elain is his princess. (https://archiveofourown.org/works/53566822)

“Under the Weeping Willow” by duskandcobalt, canon compliant, forbidden love, secret relationship, sneaking around, azriel and elain have their best time at the garden at night. (https://archiveofourown.org/works/53309260)

“I choose you and me, religiously” by slythrhys, canon compliant, one shot, forbidden love, secret relationship, sneaking around, fluff and smut, clandestine meetings, sweet & spicy. (https://archiveofourown.org/works/55701385)

“The First Flight” by NikeTheStatue, canon compliant, one shot, set on acowar, azriel flies Elain from the house of wind to the townhouse. (https://archiveofourown.org/works/56840626)

“Cruel Summer” by citizenofvelaris, canon compliant, forbidden romance, secret relationship, smut, elain finally finds some relief from the hot summer nights of Velaris. (https://archiveofourown.org/works/46476226/chapters/117022795)

“Gasoline” by yourstarsmyscars, modern au, one shot, smut, azriel is a biker, azriel agrees to teach elain to ride a motorcycle, it’s not the only thing she wants to ride. (https://archiveofourown.org/works/42909471)

“crumbs” by Demarogue, canon compliant, established relationship, fluff and smut, baking, kitchen sex, elriel future, sometimes, learning how to bake is foreplay itself. (https://archiveofourown.org/works/42695196)

“Silver Linings & Raspberry Fortunes” by slythrhys, modern au, bartender au, fluff, flirting, azriel is a bartender and elain is in a blind date. (https://archiveofourown.org/works/55628383)

“Let Me” by obisidian_witch, canon compliant, established relationship, elain is in love, azriel is in love, fae cycles, pure fluff, it’s that time of the month for elain, lucky for her, azriels sole purpose in life is to care for her. (https://archiveofourown.org/works/58103275)

“The Housewarming” by hozierhys canon compliant, post acosf, fluff and smut, forbidden love, getting together, or five times Elain and Azriel almost kissed, and the one explosive time they did. (https://archiveofourown.org/works/54361855)

“Salted Cashews” by NikeTheStatue canon compliant, a fic inspired by the the “fated mates” quiz on sjm’s website, fluff, elain gets azriel. (https://archiveofourown.org/works/56795722)

!! ₊ ˚ ୨୧ ⋅ ̥ യ . 𖥔

the end.

[yuuuuuuslazy]

Christmas, Airports and Coffee *⁠˘⁠♡◍⁠✧⁠*⁠。

Husband!Scoups x fem!reader

Genre : fluff

Warnings : very fluffy

Leaning on your husband’s shoulder while he finishes some work, for the second time your flight has been delayed. A trip to Norway planned by your husband as a surprise for your 5th anniversary wasn’t going what you’d call smooth. First of all, the roads were jammed with cars even though it was 3am in the morning. After you arrived at the airport with just enough time to eat and check in your bags, your flight has been delayed by a whopping 5 hours.

5 hours.

After that, when you and seungcheol went for some very early breakfast, a kid who was running around had bumped into you and spilled water. Right after that you heard the system's sweet voice stating that your flight will be delayed for another two hours.

And that makes 7 hours.

You considered going back home but calling your sister back to pick you two up again….she wouldn’t be pleased especially when she’s got an early date to prepare for.

So here you are, two hours into the wait while lounging in the waiting area. Seungcheol decided to finish the worked he had planned for after the trip so he doesn’t have to stress about it too much later on. You don’t know how he gets anything done while you pester him and play with his face, but he’s doing it. Man is everything. As your whine about being bored for the nth time, he closes his laptop and takes out his wallet, whips out his very shiny black card and allows you to go buy yourself set of Lego at the Lego vending machine.

“Go on, I saw the way you looked at that machine sweetheart. Or maybe you want to go on a walk?”

Your luggage wasn’t with you anymore so it’s just a backpack and your handbag. Minutes later you found yourself getting a piggy back ride on your husband’s back while he walks through the airport to pass some time. He was getting tired of staring an excel sheet anyways.

You met in high school, where seungcheol was the senior you’d sneak upstairs to peek at during lunch break. Safe to say you were caught and successfully married your high school crush. You started a business together, and it got so successful that he’s now the richest 1% in the country. You always tell yourself you did a great job serving as his secretary and wife. Four years of dating and he asked you to marry him, which of course you said yes.

As he approached the Lego vending machine, you jumped off his back and skipped towards the machine, scanning through the items again.

“They’re so expensive…”

Yeah, that’s what you told the man who bought you a Steinway piano on a random day after you mentioned that it looks pretty.

The man- uh, your man scoffed and pressed the button for the biggest set available after swiping his card at the scanner. Your Lego tuxedo cat plopped on the moving surface as it brings down your set. Seeing you happy like a child with a set of toys to play with made him feel something furry inside.

Before he could ask you where you wanted to go, you grabbed his hand a dragged him to a chocolate store nearby. He loves spoiling you, especially when sometimes he can’t spend time with you due to being caught up with work. He buys you things and takes you places while being a great husband ; you make him his favorites meals then help him de-stress after coming home from the very infuriating clients.

After the gift store, the cafe, the clothing store and a cat petting pop up booth that’s at the airport for some reason, you clutched your newly adopted plushie while still holding his hand, walking back to the waiting area as you talked about nothing and everything.

So you burned a few hundred from his card that’s like a few cents to him. He always insisted that you must have everything and got you the fattest diamond ring you’ve ever seen in your life for your wedding.

From your dress, the venue, heck even your eyelashes costed so much. Yet that hardly put a scratch on his account it was like grocery shopping for him.

Deciding that the carpeted floor by the waiting area would be a great place to sit on, you plopped down and started to build your tuxedo cat. How cute it even purrs when you turn the head!

One hour of Lego and few uncomfortable sleeping positions that made you look like a shrimp later, it’s 45 minutes away from boarding. Finally!! You peeked at the large glass windows and saw white spots falling down. Oh yeah…you were supposed to reach by Christmas, but here you are still back home. You two decided that you should eat something before boarding. He went to order while you waited by the windows of the cosy cafe. Coffee, snow, and your husband. What else can be better?

“Sweetheart”

“Yeah?”

You didn’t think he’d pull a move like that. His soft lips now on yours, although you were in a cafe, but of course you kissed back while catching eye of the girls in the corner fangirling over the scene. Maybe it was your broad shoulders six pack 180cm rich cold looking CEO who whines and pouts because you didn’t kiss him good morning of a husband? They can’t exactly see his build under his fluffy coat but oh that face card never declines.

Cheesy, but it made the butterflies in your tummy go wild when he kissed you as the clocks struck twelve, signaling the arrival of Christmas.

“Merry Christmas love” you heard as he pulled out a little jewelry box. Upon opening it was the most beautiful necklace you’d ever seen in your life. You knew better than to believe that it was cheap when you asked him. The less you see the logo of the brand the more expensive it is when your santa is seungcheol. Of course you prepared to a surprise for him too, but that’s for when you check into a hotel. (Iykyk)

Your trip to see the northern lights started when you boarded the first class seats with Netflix on the tvs. The divider could not stop your husband from giving you kisses.

It may be simple but everyday with him felt special in its own way even if you just lounged at home lazily while your fluffy cat tried to snuggle between you both for the warmth. This must be what happens when you marry someone who loves you more than anyone, or anything.

An argument breaks out from the couple in front of your, seemingly from money as the air stewardess came and asked them to keep it down.

“Love, I want you to know that all the money and power I have, I’d burn it to ashes as if it meant we would stay together forever”

Blushing hard although you’ve heard loving words from your husband on a daily basis

"May I make a Christmas wish?”

“Of course”

“Might I request to be your Mrs.Choi again in the next life, and every life to come even if we were to be rocks?”

Soft laughter swallowed the tense atmosphere the couple infront of you gave off as you two started to look through the free stuff the airline had provided with the first class seats, knowing his answer would always be yes. Yes, anything for his princess.

"you'll always be my girl, okay?"

[zhongrin]

bound matriarch

© zhongrin | 2024 ✼  [✘] no repost・translations・plagiarism of any kind・ai data mining. [✓] rebloggers get a free cup of tea ♡

✼ characters ┈ zhongli

✼ tags ┈ yandere, fem!pronouns ('wife', 'matriarch', 'goddess' used), zhongli as morax/rex lapis, set right after archon war

✼ a/n ┈ i have to be out all day today so i'm not sure if i'll be at home when this goes out but let me just say FINALLY I CAN RELEASE THIS. THIS HAS BEEN ON MY DRAFTS FOR SO LONG (i'd also like to silently thank jessamine bc their comments on my posts were the main catalyst for me to finish this little blurb sobsob)

ᴏᴜʀ ꜰᴜʟʟ ᴍᴇɴᴜ (ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ)  ✼ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱʜɪᴘ (ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ)

oh, what a dream it is to be the spouse of the strongest archon in teyvat, whom he wed right after archon war ended. some might see the celebratory wedding as something uncouth; an utter disrespect to the lives lost at war and the bereaved families, but the lord of geo disagrees. what could be a better reassurance to ensure the people of liyue would start believing in and striving for a brighter future, than the joyous union of the new geo archon who defended them throughout the arduously long war and the prosperity goddess who has the power to bless the land and its people?

you're draped in gold and red as you sign the oath in blood; sealing your matrimony amidst the cheers of the mortals and immortals alike. the ruby reds on your lips are plush and soft against their god's own, the gossamer thread of embroidered gold of your clothing matching your now-husband's attire. even the bright blue sky seemed to celebrate such a joyous occasion, casting its warm rays upon the now-peaceful land of liyue to offer you its blessing.

they do not know that one certain party was most ardently unwilling to take the vow under one of the most sacred contracts of all.

they need not know that the marriage was a desperate attempt to shackle you to him and erase your individual worth as a goddess; to ensure you are remembered as rex lapis' beloved wife, the matriarch of liyue. they need not know, for just as no one questioned why the god of freedom was not invited into the banquet, no one questioned why a sheer veil covered the lower part of your unsmiling face, or the fact that countless shackles cor petrae accessories heavily rested against your neck and limbs.

what they do know is that this is your prison home ー he is your captor home and you will never belong anywhere else.

and perhaps given a few eons, you shall learn it too. worry not, your husband is a patient god. but you best remember that a god's patience, too, has its limits.

✼ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱʜɪᴘ (ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ) ┈

@abyssmal-skies ! @hamdehlesmis ! @sunnshineflxwer ! @queen-belial ! @silentmoths

@dustofthedailylife ! @marina-and-the-memes ! @mixed-kester ! @lordbugs ! @anonymousficreader

@irethepotato ! @sassy-cat-in-town ! @syrenkitsune ! @smokipoki ! @cakeboxie

@crystalflygeo ! @ciexuvia ! @illaasya ! @celestewritestoomuch ! @pams-comfortzone

@spidermanluvr444 ! @ourstrawberryclouds ! @ryuryuryuyurboat ! @hrts4hanniehae ! @fiannee

@frosts-intuition ! @florapocalypses ! @genshin-impacts-me ! @scarasmood ! @hellcatinnc

@beloved-brynn ! @malachitemischief101 ! @average-yandere-enjoyer

[mrs-saturday]

♡ OP81 Fluff Headcanons

♥ my masterlist!

♥ pairing: Oscar Piastri x Reader

♥ synopsis: some fluffy OP81 HCs for my pastry girls

♥ warnings: brief suggestive mention

♥ a/n: Needed to start feeding the OP81 babes so here's my HCs about Kimi Raikkonen 2.0

♡ Oscar will never beat the polite cat allegations, especially around you, he can’t help but hold doors, take your coat and pull out your chair

୨୧ and SHOES, everytime you go out, Oscar makes sure there is a pair of flats on hand, and always offers to tie your sneakers, even in the middle of a busy street

♡ Contrary to popular belief, he likes a good photo, especially with his lady. Oscar has a whole album in his camera roll dedicated to selfies of the pair of you. 

୨୧ Oscar drives, all the time, he’s just too scared you’re gonna smash his car into a bollard one day (plus, he likes you getting all cosy in the front seat on a long drive)

♡ his glove box is FULL of your stuff;  lip glosses, nail files, setting powder. He did his research (snooped though your handbag) to find out exactly what you needed

୨୧ Osc gets super emotional sometimes, only ever behind closed doors. He’s the new Kimi to the cameras, but to you? He’s George Russell crying after scoring points in a tractor Williams.

♡ Nicole is the sweetest mama-in-law, and ALWAYS backs you up in a disagreement with Osc (not that those happen often, but girls supporting girls right?)

୨୧ The man really wants a baby, like, every time he visits family with babies, he pulls little puppy dog eyes at you. He can imagine how beautiful you’d look carrying his child and it always brings him joy (and a bit of a hard-on imagining the process)

♡ He’d propose with a family heirloom, for sure. Sentimental is his way to go

୨୧ And sentimental he is. He keeps all your wedding photo albums on the coffee table, and REGULARLY spends evening flicking through them and swooning at “his beautiful gorgeous amazing wife”

♡ You are saved in his phone as “Mrs. Piastri” and you have him saved as “Baby Iceman” (true love right here)

[morwap]

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐄

ex!regulus black x fem!reader

nav | m.list | r.b m.list

smut

dom!reg sub!reader, p in v, cunnilingus, handjob, cheating, ex!barty x reader mention, hair pulling. c/n = character name

───────✧ 𓆩♡𓆪 ✧───────

james unlocked the door, a big smile on his face as he had booked a pretty nice airbnb for the long weekend. you and dorcas carried in snacks and drinks to the kitchen as he held the door.

you could hear peter groan as sirius jumped on his back after stretching.

“hey i just wanted to see if you were okay, ya know with regulus being here and all—“

you cut dorcas off with a little laugh, “yeah d its fine, i mean we both have moved on clearly”

dorcas smiled and nodded before rubbing your arm then walking back outside.

moved on was not what you would describe it, regulus was here with a girl he had a met not to long ago, a fling, you could tell by how she acted. it was exactly how you used to act.

maybe he did this to make you jealous and to ruin your time, that was the only justification that went through your head.

you packed the fridge with the food and put things on the counters.

“y/n! where do you want me to put your stuff?” remus yelled, you already knew the sleeping arrangements, you and peter on an air mattress while remus, sirius, dorcas and marlene in a room. james and lily have their own and so does regulus and c/n.

“just put it by the couch!” you yelled as you watched sirius walk in, you grabbed a water and tossed it to him. sirius smiled then looked behind him then looked back at you, giving you an eyebrow raise. a warning sign.

“yeah its up the stairs, second room on the right” regulus mumbled. you watched as she walked up the stairs and regulus stopped to talk to sirius. you could tell he was out of breath from carrying things, you grabbed another water from the fridge and put it on the table before walking to the living room.

to say the tension was strong whenever you and regulus were in the same room was an understatement.

it was getting dark out, everyone was outside while james cleaned the grill for tomorrow and sirius and marlene tried to get a speaker to start working.

you sat next to lily, you both chatting about random topics while scrolling and showing each other different cats at a shelter. you would occasionally look to the other seats and make eye contact with regulus, it only made you wanna roll your eyes when he would at you then at her then back at you. he would get closer to her, having a stare off with you until you looked away.

music started to lighten the tension, marlene had pulled you up to dance with her while she was shit faced drunk. sirius got remus to join in. regulus watched you, thinking that maybe you just didnt care.

the fun ended with marlene throwing up on the other side of the fence and dorcas having to go put her in a bath. mary had called lily to check up on you guys, she wasn’t able to come since she had a wedding to attend.

hours passed and remus was the last to leave living room to you and peter, you sat down on the edge of the air mattress, peter already fast asleep, you had showered before coming to bed and now put on lotion.

the only thoughts you had were of regulus as you started to lay down. you couldn’t sleep a few hours passed until you heard footsteps.

regulus sat on the couch, his elbows on his knees. he cant remember what made him come down here, maybe to get a drink but now its led him here and he cant say he’s mad about it.

“are you doing this to fuck with me? to make me jealous?” you asked in a yelled whisper, sitting on the edge of the air mattress. you made sure not to move too much since peter was next to you with earplugs in.

“what? am i doing this to fuck with you? what are you talking about?” he whispered, his brows furrowed. “you started talking to barty again, what was i supposed to do while you were out flirting with your ex boyfriend?” he added.

“literally what the fuck are you talking about regulus” you scoffed, the last time you saw barty was when you gave him some of his clothes that was still in a box in your closet, it was socks and a few plain white tees but he had messaged you about it since it had his favorite belt and hadnt been able to find it for almost 6 months.

“sirius told me he saw you, how you got in his car and was all up on him, told me all about how you were all giggly and touching his arm, i thought we had something” he argued, making hand gestures.

“we do have something, we always have had something, all i did was give him a box of clothes if i was thinking about getting back together with i would've told you” you whispered, you touched his arm.

“i would never do that to you, regulus i told you everything” you added as a tear pricked your waterline, his head tilted slightly as he closed his eyes and sighed.

you missed him, god you missed him.

“i’m sorry, i should've asked you” he sighed, his hands going to yours. just touching him was like being teased, you missed his hands on you.

you swallowed, you didn’t know if it was the right time and you think he had the same idea.

regulus looked at you, you two were so close, his hair was just the slightest bit damp and he still smelled so strongly of his body wash and shampoo. He wore a plain black tee and sweatpants that was fresh out the dryer.

he leaned in closer, you didn’t want to move more than you already have in case of waking peter.

you tilted your head back as he leaned in more, his lips touching yours. god it felt so good.

your tongue intertwined with his as you two kissed, his hand came to your jaw. you tried to get closer to him. you heard peter groan and you pulled away.

peter rolled over and started to snore.

“cmere” regulus whispered and guided you up and into the kitchen.

your lower back pressed against the counter, as he locked your guys lips together roughly, his hands going up your shirt.

you tried to rub yourself against his groin. regulus groaned into your mouth as he unclipped your bra. he moved around your body until he was able to slip the bra to the ground then undid the knot on your pj pants.

regulus trembled in your grasp as you palmed him, he was getting harder and harder in your grasp. he bit your lip lightly before pulling away.

“turn the fuck around” he panted, his hands moving you roughly and pushing you to bend over the counter. regulus drops to his knees, his fingers slipping down your pj pants and panties.

you could feel his lips on your ass cheek, he bit softly which made you laugh and mumble an “ow,” regulus smile before spreading you open for him.

his tongue met your cunt, making you shiver, your clit throbbed as he sucked slightly. his hands massaged you gently, he did circles around your clit then moved his tongue up and down your vulva.

one of regulus’ hands moved to your cunt, his fingers teasing around your cunt before finally pushing in.

your hand that was gripping the counter went up to your mouth, his fingers were long and soon enough he could fit two in. your legs trembled and you were getting close. minutes passed and then you were on the brink.

regulus pulled away and slowed his fingers. you whined when his fingers left you. you soon felt his lips on the back of your neck. you could feel him press his cock against you, you reached back and slid your hand into his waistbands, he was fucking leaking.

he moaned against your skin as you stroked him, his hand gripped your hand and guided it while the other one held your hip. regulus let go of your hand and pushed his sweats down a bit.

“turn around i wanna see your face” he whispered and let go of you. you kicked off your bottoms before turning. regulus spit in his hand and stroked himself, you watched his chest as he breathed heavily.

you got onto the counter, thankfully it happened to be perfect height.

spreading your legs for him, waiting, you are beautiful.

regulus pressed his tip against your cunt, sliding in as his other hand did circles on your clit. his head tilted back slightly and he bit his lips. his stomach tightened and his eyes closed.

you watched his cock go into you. your hand gripped his forearm.

“youre amazing” he mumbled, looked at you and you leaned in, lips molding together in a fevered rush.

regulus started thrusting, noises caught in your throat, his other hand held the back of your head, guiding it how he wanted.

he started to quicken his pace, his fingers gripping your hair hard. you moaned in his mouth.

a noise from upstairs stopped him, pulling his head away from you and his hand moved to cover your mouth. he slowed his pace but didnt stop completely.

“regulus?” you heard.

he looked at you and then reached to turn the sink on then off.

“yeah?” he said. she stood at the top of the stairs. it was dark the only light being from a nightlight that was next to you.

“you okay?” she asked.

“yeah im just getting a drink and im on the phone with evan, hes having a rough night, go back to bed” he lied on the spot.

“oh alright” she yawned and walked back.

you kissed his neck, nipping at his skin. he started to pick up his pace again.

“im sorry” he whispered, his hands rubbed your sides.

“its okay” you said, you pulled on the hem of his shirt and sucked on his collarbone, leaving a dark mark.

his fingers went fast on your clit, getting you closer and closer.

“i love you” regulus said.

you kissed his cheek, “i love you too regulus” your fingers slipping into his hair.

your brows furrowed as the coil in your stomach snapped. cunt clenching down on him and pulsating. you bit your lips together.

“inside or on your stomach?” he asked hurriedly.

you ignored him.

his eyes closed tightly, “imma need an answer baby quick” he whined.

“stomach” you panted as you came down from your high.

regulus thrusted a few more times before pulling out. your hands went to his cock, jerking him off to the pace he was going before.

he cursed as he came, cock throbbing and now becoming super sensitive.

soon he had cleaned you and himself up and wiped down the counters then you two ended up cuddling on the couch. he whispered in your ear, telling you how he missed you and that you were the best thing to ever happen to him. it was nice, so nice.

you had moved once he fell asleep, getting back to your spot on the air mattress. regulus moved closer to the edge and reached his hand down to grab yours.

“goodnight” he mumbled.

[stayinlimbo]

We Become We

pairing: husband!lee minho x reader genre/warnings: friends to lovers, marriage of convenience, fluff, poor attempts at me trying to be funny, mc's gender is not specified word count: 1.02k note:  i am not dead yay. i tried my best since i haven't had time to write for almost a month so please take this as a peace offering ♡

Marriage. It’s an interesting concept, isn’t it? 

You’ve always thought so, at least. Two people agreeing to sign a legal document and tethering their lives to each other for whatever reason, be it love, societal expectations, familial pressure, financial security, etc. 

Yours happens to be a man named Lee Minho. The same man you’ve been friends with for as long as you can remember. The same man who asked you to marry him for a reason you didn’t get to learn until he was already down on one knee. 

(“I’m sorry, you want me to WHAT?” “Marry me. Please, I need health insurance.”

“Okay, yes, sure, whatever; now please get off the floor. People are staring.”)

Lee Minho, who, after dragging you to the courthouse and legally becoming your husband, finally elaborated on how his job would pay him more and cover both of your health insurances if he was married. So really, in his words, he was “doing you a huge favor” by marrying you. 

And, in all honesty, he really was. No, you didn’t have a ring to show off your new husband’s weird skill at finding loopholes in company policy, and you’re like thirty-five percent sure the two of you are committing some kind of marriage fraud, but does it really matter when you can finally start using the hot water in your dingy apartment without worrying if you’ll have enough money to fund your crippling caffeine addiction? The government will have to drag you kicking and screaming before you resort back to mankind’s cruelest form of torture: cold showers. 

Not to mention that marriage didn’t even change your relationship with Minho. And why would it? You’re still you, and he’s still him. He gets on your nerves just the same, maybe even a little bit more after he decided to frame your marriage certificate in his living room and send a photo to all your mutual friends. You’ll never forgive Minho for laughing at your helplessly panicked state when the group chat wouldn’t stop exploding with messages and incessant calls. 

You’re still his best friend that resides in his apartment four out of seven days of the week while he inhabits yours for the other three. Maybe that’s why, two weeks after your “wedding,” when it was time to renew your lease, Minho suggested with a simple shrug of his shoulders that you move in with him since “you’re here all the time anyway.” 

You’ve really got to learn how to say no to him because now you wake up next to your best friend/roommate/husband in his one bedroom, one bathroom apartment at the crack of dawn with a light pressure on your chest and fur in your face when his cats decide you need to wake up right now to feed them. 

Not to say you don’t like the new arrangement! No, that would be the furthest from the truth. 

Sure, you didn’t appreciate your skin care routine being interrupted by the unexpectedly high-pitched scream Minho let out when he saw you in a face mask for the first time, and what kind of person still has their phone’s brightness turned up all the way before bed? But who else would willingly tolerate your deliriousness before your morning coffee or indulge in your pleas to cook your favorite food three days in a row? 

Living with Minho has only made the purely platonic feelings you harbor for him grow stronger.

That’s what the fluttering in your chest means every time you see him, right? The reason for the smile that grows on your face when you hear the distinct jingling of keys at the front door?

Yeah, that must be why heat spread across your cheeks when he handed you his phone to text one of his friends back, because since when did the heart emoji make an appearance next to your pinned contact name?

You just care about each other, that’s all. It’s normal to want to make sure he arrived at work safely and ask how his day is going during your lunch breaks. It’s normal to start receiving back hugs before bed—a comforting weight as Minho’s chin rests on your shoulder while you apply the rest of the products to your face. 

It’s natural to have doubts about the nature of your relationship during an evening walk, acutely aware of his fingers lightly brushing against yours as you silently study his features illuminated by the soft glow of the scattered streetlights. What if he meets someone else and falls in love with them and wants a divorce and– oh. 

Has he always looked at you like that? With his gaze softening as it locks with yours? With the corners of lips lifting into the gentlest smile you’ve ever seen? With all the stars shining above you finding a second home in his eyes? A look so loving that it takes your breath away and you can’t tell if you’re about to laugh or cry in relief. 

And when you return home to get ready for bed, the familiar feeling of hands wrapping around your waist and a careful pressure resting by the crook of your neck quells the remnants of your worries.

It’s you and Minho. Minho and you, just as it always has been. Just as it’s always meant to be.

The distance between your bodies on the bed becomes nonexistent when you curl yourself into his side, laying your head on his shoulder and intertwining your legs with his as he immediately, unhesitantly, adjusts his arm, his fingertips finding purchase on exposed skin and roaming across the span of your back. A kiss to the top of your head is the last thing you feel before the gentle lull of breathing and the rise and fall of his chest begin to soothe you to sleep. 

…

Ah, marriage—what an interesting concept. Two people agreeing to sign a legal document and tethering their lives to each other for whatever reason, be it love, societal expectations, familial pressure, financial security, etc. 

You love your husband, and you’re beginning to think he loves you too. 

liked this work? want to let me know how i did? please like, comment, and/or reblog; they are greatly appreciated my asks are always open ♡

taglist: @linospuddin @linocz @spicyhyunn

[withleeknow]

i think you'll do well with requests bc they seem to be popular in the fanfic side of tumblr! but even if it doesn't take off that quick, at least that'll be less overwhelming bc some ppl can be so demanding....anyways, i hope the best for you in this new journey haha 💝

me personally, i'm not very creative so i'll leave the details to the professionals (aka you) but i'd like to req something from minho's pov. i think those type of stories are SEVERELY lacking in the lee know fics department lol 🥲 it could be a childhood friends to lovers where he is pining for oc but he has a lot of self esteem issues and thinks she's not interested in him. also a big softie and just all around head over heels for her. you can add your magic! (if this is even remotely interesting enough to write lol i just want a minho pov tbh shsjjfjdjdj 😭)

light years.

summary: three times minho bites his tongue, and one time you don't let him.

pairing: minho x f!reader genre/warnings: childhood friends to lovers, fluff, angst; kissing, cursing, so much pining i could hurl. could this have been more edited? oh absolutely lmao but i actually don't hate it sooo this is what we're going with :p word count: 4.2k note: to the first anon, thank you so much for your kind words! :') and i'm sorry that this took me longer than expected. i was trying to figure out what i wanted to write for your prompt but then i got the second request with the song and i thought they would go nicely together hehehehe i hope the both of you enjoy thissss

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 / request masterlist / ko-fi

I'm not sure what it means to love But I blink kind of slow around you I'm not sure what it means to love But I'll grow wherever you do What that means, I don't have a clue

I'm Not Sure - Margeaux Beylier

One.

Minho is 18 years old, and he doesn't know what love is, doesn't really care for it at all.

While his friends are out there wrapped in the clutches of young love - the kind that blooms with stolen glances in classrooms and sticky notes passed in secrecy, Minho finds it simply unnecessary. He doesn't understand it whenever Hyunjin whines about not having a girlfriend because they're still young, they've got all the time in the world for romance later down the line. It's not the end of the world like Hyunjin laments it is.

Minho has his own life to prioritize. College is starting after the summer and he still needs to figure out how he's going to cope with the absence of his cats once he moves away. He's got dancing and he's got his other hobbies to keep him fulfilled and occupied.

And above all, he's got you.

You're getting ready for your sister's wedding when it happens for the first time. Or rather, when it doesn't happen.

You step back into the room where Minho is waiting for you on the sofa, his gaze resting idly on the screen of his phone, scrolling absentmindedly through his friends' group chat even though he has no interest in whatever they're talking about. You cough lightly to indicate your return after disappearing into the bathroom minutes prior to change into your dress. He looks up upon your soft announcement, and when his eyes settle on you, he swears it feels like an invisible force has collided with his chest and knocked all of the air from his lungs.

Throughout all his years of knowing you, inseparable from childhood until now, Minho has never seen you like this - all dolled up with your hair falling over your collarbones, cascading over your shoulders in soft waves that beckons him to run his fingers through. The light blue dress hugs you beautifully, the silky material catching the light from outside the window every time you shift on your feet under his steady gaze.

"So...?" you ask, moving your arms awkwardly behind your back like you're not sure what to do with them. "What do you think?"

What does he think?

Minho thinks you might just be the prettiest girl in the world. He thinks he must have been an idiot his whole life, to have spent most of his waking hours beside you and not once has he noticed how truly breathtaking you are. He thinks about the feeling that spreads in the pit of his stomach, sends warmth throughout his body and makes his heartbeat race a million miles an hours.

Your best friend blinks slowly as he savors the warmth that he's never experienced before. It's similar to the feeling you get when you're sitting under the shade of a big tree on a summer's day. It's comparable to the satisfied tranquility you get after you've just finished a hearty meal. A little hazy in your contentment.

It's not until you probe with a pointed Well? that Minho realizes he's been staring at you in silence for a few minutes now. He swallows thickly, willing away the words that he wants to say but they get lodged in his throat. He reckons it's weird to verbalize them, because it's not how the two of you function. You don't often utter that kind of sentiment out loud and he doesn't either. Never have and likely never will.

In the end, he bites his tongue. "You look presentable," is what he settles on.

You roll your eyes, then reward him with a laugh.

Minho doesn't care about love. He only cares about you.

Two.

Minho is 21 years old, and he's gotten used to his heart beating erratically whenever he's in your presence.

Three years flew by in the blink of an eye, and graduation is just around the corner. You've always done well in school, straight A student with a track record that most could only dream to have. You put in the hours, you do the work. You deserve everything that you've achieved.

But it's been a challenging few months for you both, being seniors and all. He's had to watch you struggle to stay on top of your classes while also having to slave over a thesis 24/7 until you were sure it was perfect. It reduced you to tears a few times, and Minho was there to hold your hand through it all.

He held you in his comforting embrace when you wanted to give up. He made you dinner when you were too immersed in your schoolwork to notice that you'd forgotten to eat. He was your biggest support system; if it weren't for him, you don't know if you would've made it through.

It's hot outside today, a little unbearable but not uncharacteristic for June. Minho waits in a familiar hallway, the same hall that he's walked past for hundreds of times over the past few years, the same hall that he won't see again once he holds a degree in his hands in only a few weeks' time.

As he sits on an old wooden bench, he bounces his leg as if he's one of the people in the classrooms that line the hall. He doesn't have to be on campus today, but here he is regardless because you're scheduled for your thesis defense this morning. You're in one of those rooms, probably also bouncing your leg from the overwhelming nerves. Minutes feel like hours; you went in there a while ago after he had sent you off with a pat on the head and an encouraging Godspeed.

He's nervous for you, but he's sure that you'll do great. Years of hard work accumulating in what must be the most important moment of your academic journey. You even stayed up all night last night, refusing to sleep a wink just to revise your arguments and talking points.

Minho's head snaps up instantly as he hears a door creak open, the sound of it reverberating throughout the empty hallway like a gong announcing your return from battle. It takes you a few seconds to step out of the room and into his line of sight. He can't see you very well with all this distance between you, but he can still make out the way your frame is visibly shaking with every step you take. He rises to his feet, and you break into a sprint.

He opens his arms wide - a hug of consolation or congratulations, he doesn't know yet - but he still can't seem to brace himself for the collision. You run straight into his embrace, your warms wounding around his middle tightly. Minho feels your tremors, hears your sniffles from where you're pressing your cheek against his shoulder.

"How did it go?" he asks gently.

You start crying then, and he doesn't know if the tears that his shirt is soaking up are those of joy or of grief, but he holds you through it anyway. He swears he can feel every single beat of your heart, hammering so wildly as you're pressed against him like you could sink into him if only you'd push just a little bit more.

"I passed," you say in between sobs. "I got an A."

Minho heaves out the breath that he's been holding ever since you entered that classroom, but it's not like he had any doubt about it to begin with. He hugs you tighter than he's ever had before, and he loves you just the same.

You two must look so dramatic, all wrapped up together in your own little bubble, but who the fuck cares? Although, when another student passes by and coughs, you do break away from him, a little embarrassed for a second.

Even with your hair all mussed up and your flushed cheeks stained with tears, he still thinks you look the same as you did when you were 18 at your sister's wedding. The prettiest girl in the world.

Minho wipes away the wetness on your face with his sleeves, then swipes with gentle thumbs at the moisture that's gathered along your lash lines.

"Holy fucking shit," you breathe out, your shoulders sagging with evident relief, so much more relaxed now that you've done it. "I can't believe it's finally over."

Your best friend can't entirely agree, because he's always believed in you. He's had faith in you since the beginning, since you were mere children laughing and crying together on the playground. You were meant to do great things, this was always crystal clear to Minho.

I love you, he thinks as he smooths a hand over your hair, his chest swelling with nothing but pride and fondness for you. You did so well.

But it's not what he ends up telling you. He swallows it down, washes it away with a dose of regret and longing. He's still not the type to express sappy sentiments, and he's grown accustomed to adoring you only in secret.

"Let's go," he says softly. "I'll buy you dinner."

Minho is still young, he's still got his whole life ahead of him, but he knows what love is now. He knows that it's you.

Three.

Minho is 24 years old, and he finds it hard to make peace with the fact that you're starting to get out there, that you're finally going on dates now that academics aren't taking up most of your time anymore.

To be fair, none of the guys you've seen have been graced with a second date, and Minho thanks his lucky stars whenever you return from a night out and text him a simple Not it. He knows that it wasn't your decision in the first place, that your mom and your sister have been setting you up on blind dates because they want to see you bring a boyfriend home.

You complain about it all the time, whining about how you're not interested but your family is adamant on it. Minho is well aware, and yet, there's a part of him that's a little shaken, because what if? What if the universe miscalculates and the stars misalign just enough in his misfortune for you to cross paths with someone who's absolutely perfect for you? Someone who's a good man that can give you what you've always deserved to have.

He really doesn't know what he would do if that happens. When it happens?

He doesn't know why you're here tonight either, sitting on a chair on the other side of his kitchen island in a pretty dress when you're supposed to be going on a date in half an hour. The guy apparently works for a big record label, some producer that your sister knows through a friend of a friend.

You look indifferent, kind of bored, as you watch Minho makes dinner for himself. "You seem miserable," he comments, taking a quick break from chopping vegetables to glance up at you. You do look a bit miserable, but you're still the most beautiful in his eyes.

You throw your head back and groan loudly, "Because I am. God, I don't know why they keep making me do this. These guys always give nothing."

"Please elaborate."

"They're all boring suits with tedious routines." you say, and as absentminded as your tone is, it sounds a little pointed to Minho's ears. "They don't make me laugh."

Do they not make you laugh, or do they not make you laugh more than I can?

"Then don't go," he snickers, though there's no humor in his voice at all. "These guys sound like duds. Just tell your sister to fuck off."

"Do you mean that? Do you really think I shouldn't go?"

And there's something in your gaze, something so suddenly expectant in the way you're looking at him that makes Minho wonder. If he says yes, would you listen? Would you stay here with him? Would you stay here for him?

I'm serious. Don't go. You can have this and I'll make myself ramyeon. Just be here with me.

You both stare at each other on either side of his kitchen island for an infinite stretch of time. He feels like your eyes are trying to tell him something that he can't decipher, as if they're sending him signals in a language that he never learned how to read.

For a second there, he indulges himself. He pretends that you're only asking because you want to hear him say it. That you want him to put up a fight and not let you go.

But he bites his tongue because it's become a bad habit. A habit that he can't shake because he simply doesn't have the courage to do so. Because if you stay here tonight, looking like that under the cozy lighting of his living room, he might just spill his secrets and he wouldn't be able to take it when reality comes crashing down and you end up telling him that you've never felt the same way.

"I'm kidding," he musters up the words, and tries to plaster on a smile for your sake, even though he's not sure if you really believe it. "You're dressed up anyway. Go and get a free fancy dinner, if anything."

Minho knows what love is, but his love has always lived in the shadows, his longing has only existed in the dark that it terrifies him just thinking about it meeting the light.

Four.

Minho is 26 years old, and he's been a coward for the better part of a decade.

Maybe he's loved you for even longer, but he has spent the past eight years head over heels in love with you, and not once has he done anything about it. Never been able to gather enough courage to ask you out, never even hinted at his feelings for you. He loves you from his place by your side and yet, you've never known.

He loves you the most, but he loves you in the worst way that a person can love another - he loves you in silence.

You're the prettiest girl in the world, and Lee Minho is a pathetic coward.

All these years, he's kept quiet and for what? There's always a spot reserved for him right next to you and yet, it feels like he can only watch you from the sidelines, far away from where it really matters, because he doesn't think he can fit into your life the way he truly wants. You taught him what love was, and love, to Minho, is unattainable. Something he can spend the rest of his life yearning for but won't ever have.

Love hurts. Sometimes, all love does is hurt.

"I would've taken you to a nice restaurant if you asked, you know," he says, putting a chocolate cupcake on the coffee table in front of you before he sits down next to you on the fluffy carpet of your living room. He pulls out a candle next, placing it right in the center of the sweet treat.

Your gaze follows his hand has he lights the candle, your eyes glinting with excitement as though you're a child again and your favorite day of the year is still your birthday. The tiny flame curves and bends, dancing to a rhythm that looks like only you can hear. You watch the candle like it's magic, while Minho just watches you, thinking the same thing.

He watches as you close your eyes and clasp your hands together for the theatrics, then you blow out the flame seconds later with a swift breath.

You turn to him with a smile, "I don't need a nice restaurant. This is perfect."

He blinks, and there's that warmth simmering in his belly again. He first felt it when he was 18, and he feels it now. He feels it almost every moment that he spends with you, and he reckons it's only reasonable, because you're his home personified and love can still be beautiful even when it hurts. There's his heart racing again, but that's nothing new to Minho.

He muses over your words. Perfect. Just one simple word is enough to get his hopes up in a way that it really shouldn't.

Your definition of a birthday well spent is in your cozy apartment, eating takeout pizza with your best friend. Perfect, to you, is him baking you a singular chocolate cupcake upon your request and being with him within these four walls, where his fingers occasionally brush yours when you sit next to each other.

Oh, Minho would follow you to the ends of the earth if you asked him to.

He clears his throat lightly, breaking away from your gaze that's full of gratitude and childlike wonder. "What did you wish for?"

"I'm not gonna tell you. It won't come true then."

Wishes don't come true anyway, he thinks, but obviously he won't say it out loud to you, and on your birthday no less. Instead, he diverts his attention to the cupcake, subconsciously tonguing his cheek as he takes a small chunk of the sweet and offers it to you.

You let him feed you even though your eyes are narrowed. "What was that look?" you ask.

"What look?"

"You had a look."

"No, I didn't," Minho insists.

"Yes, you did. You wanted to say something, didn't you?"

He shrugs, popping a piece of cupcake into his own mouth. The answer is yes, he did want to say something, but if you want to get technical about it, then he's wanted to say something for years now. He asks you the same thing every birthday, What did you wish for?, and you would refuse to tell him every time.

"Wishes don't come true," he verbalizes it this time, with a voice that's lighthearted on purpose despite knowing that you wouldn't take it that seriously either way.

You roll your eyes. "Now you're just being pessimistic."

"What? I'm speaking from experience."

"You've never had a birthday wish come true?"

"My birthday wishes haven't come true since I was 18."

Minho feels your eyes on the side of his face, and when you remain quiet for a beat too long, he turns his attention back to you. "What?"

"How do you know they didn't come true?"

"Because..."

Because you've been my wish for almost a decade now. I didn't use to believe in wishes but I always believed in you. Every year, I wish for you to look at me the way I look at you, but it never comes true. Every year, I wish that you would love me back, not just as a friend, but you never do. You are my wish, but you're also the very reason why I know wishes don't come true.

Then he's laughing, but nothing is remotely funny about this. It's your birthday and suddenly all he can think about is how much it stings to be reminded that you're the only thing he'll ever wish for, and still, maybe this simple wish is absurd enough that the universe will never grant him what he truly wants.

"Never mind," he says. "This whole thing is silly."

There he goes, biting his tongue again. Coward.

"No, what were you going to say?"

"You're so bossy today," Minho pretends to complain.

"It's my birthday. Tell me," you press on, and suddenly he can't find any appreciation for your stubbornness that he's adored all his life. You keep your eyes fixed on him when all he wants to do is hide from you.

What is he supposed to say to you? What can he even say? That he's spent more than a third of his life hopelessly enamored with you? That the second he utters any of this out loud, he knows it will be the end of your friendship?

And Minho can't afford to lose you. Even if it hurts, he would rather let love hurt than live in the absence of you.

"Eat your cupcake," he says instead. "I'll get some ice cream."

He makes a move to get up, and the bad habit further cements its place in his subconscious. He's always running away from you when you're supposed to be the person he can be the most open with. This is how he knows he doesn't deserve you.

But you reach for his wrist and it makes him still, the feeling of your hand sliding downward to hold onto his fingers. He's used to the feeling of your smaller hand in his, used to how he can hear his heartbeat in his ears whenever you lace your fingers together.

What he isn't accustomed to, is the look on your face this very second, akin to the one you wore two years ago as you sat on the other side of his kitchen island, asking him if you should go.

Expectant and hopeful; you're holding something back too.

The words that slip from your lips are ones that he never imagined you would say to him.

"I've waited for you long enough."

His poor excuse of retrieving ice cream is all but forgotten as he stares at you, doe-eyed and despairingly confused. "What is that supposed to mean?"

You take a breath, and Minho wonders if this is how he looked every time he wanted to say something only to back down in the end.

Then it all comes rushing out.

"For a while, I thought there might've been something between us, something more than just friendship. I don't know why I thought that, I just had a feeling. On the day of our graduation, I thought you would finally kiss me or at least say something, but you didn't. Whenever I went on dates, I wanted you to tell me not to go, that I was wasting my time with those guys that couldn't make me laugh because they weren't you. You never said anything, you never did anything. I waited every birthday just like I waited tonight. You're still holding it over me and I'm starting to wonder if you really love me too or if I imagined everything this whole time."

Your voice gets smaller toward the end, almost as if the uncertainty takes over you the longer he remains silent. He doesn't have the words for it, doesn't really have the mental capacity to process all of what you just professed. Years and years of longing, of hoping that you would come running into his arms the same way you did on the morning of your thesis defense, and it turns out that you were always the one waiting for him to reach you.

If you really love me too.

Your fingers start to loosen around his but Minho doesn't let you get away, not now and not ever again. Not when he finally knows that he's burnt up enough of your time just because he was too stuck in his head to see that you were holding a hand out for him all along.

He pulls you into his orbit and he likes to imagine that somewhere out there in the infinite universe, two stars collide when he kisses you for the first time, long overdue but still heavenly nonetheless.

He's crying but you don't seem to mind the tears. You're kissing him back and it's really all that matters. He can't think straight but he adores you to the point that his lungs ache.

"I love you," he mumbles against your lips. The sentiment comes out clumsy, half coherent but wholeheartedly sincere. "I'm sorry. I love you, I love you, fuck, I love you."

You're the one who breaks the kiss first, with your hand on his chest gently pushing him away. Panic instantly shoots through him like a lightning strike. These are the words he's been holding back for years, did he not even say them right? Did he fuck things up yet again?

You brush the tears from his cheeks, your voice so impossibly soft when you ask, "Do you mean it?"

Minho splinters into a million pieces, of course he does.

Your name falls from his lips, sounding like a prayer, like the most tender plea that's ever been uttered, "I love you the most. I'm so in love with you that it hurts. I've been yours for so long and I never said anything. Fuck, I-I'm sorry. I love you so much. I'm sorry. I-"

You bring his face to yours once more, shushing him with a kiss that makes him putty in your hands. You tell him that it's okay, and you kiss him like you forgive him. The world could be ending right now, and he doesn't think that either of you would even care very much.

Because you're the only wish of his life, and you kiss him as though you want to make up for the lost years. Because Minho feels like he's 18 again and you're the most beautiful girl in the world, wearing a smile that leaves him breathless in the most wonderful way possible.

all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 06.05.2024]

[novalpha]

𝘞𝘰𝘯𝘸𝘰𝘰 𝐹𝑖𝑐 𝑅𝑒𝑐𝑠

♡ Fluff || ୨୧ Angst || ★ Smut || ꗃ SMAU || ⌗ Series || ✿ Drabble || ♤ Mature (No smut) || ✹ Humor

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ The shattered camera ✹♡⌗୨୧ -> @puppetwritings

Summary: Wonwoo already had enough on his plate as it is—proving his parents wrong, making a living, fighting his just conscience—and with you in the picture, nothing could possibly go more wrong. Or could you be his ticket to the good life that he wanted?

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Head in the clouds (Landing among stars) ♡୨୧♤✹ -> @twogyuu

Synopsis: You're busy. He's busy. Doctors are busy. Pilots are busy. But somehow, he always found time for you - including pretending to be your boyfriend for your cousin's wedding.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Hi Wonwoo ୨୧ -> @diamondyjh

Synopsis: Sharing the details about your day with your boyfriend is a part of your daily routine.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Favorite ★ -> @wonusite

Synopsis: When Professor Jeon realizes his most earnest student is no longer paying him the attention he craves, he goes to great lengths to make sure he’s the only one holding her attention.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Love you twice ♡୨୧★ -> @toruro

description: in which your extremely hot and sexy one night stand turns out to be your son’s teacher. naturally, chaos ensues, but you might just find love as your life continues to take an unexpected turn.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Right where you left me ♡୨୧★ -> @tonicandjins

summary: in which wonwoo leaves and takes your heart with him. three years later, you're in another city, but tragically, right where he left you.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ In the spring ♡୨୧ -> @viastro

synopsis: in which you suffer from a car accident and have amnesia when you wake up. wonwoo is your current boyfriend, but you keep remembering your ex. [inspired by the numerous tiktoks i saw with this prompt]

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Payment due ♡୨୧★ -> @solarwonux

Synopsis: HYBE U one of the top highly prestigious universities in the country. A shit hole, a total money making scam that liked to sucked the life out of its students. Not being able to meet the funds to pay for your tuition your best friend lets you in a little secret. A way he’s been keeping afloat for years now, easy money. The problem is you want in. 

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Sharing is caring but I don't care ♡✹ -> @gamerwoo

Summary: All cat hybrids are different, but Wonwoo is exactly what you’d expect: reclusive, only wants attention for a limited amount of time, and slightly passive aggressive. You don’t mind, you love Wonwoo all the same. But he suddenly gets a lot more clingy after your best friend asks you to babysit the dog hybrid he’s fostering that seems to take a liking to you.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Wedding weekends with Wonwoo ♡✹୨୧ -> @suhnshinehaos

SYNOPSIS. jeon wonwoo, the perfect man. kind, smart, successful career, and not too bad on the eyes. all his friends are getting married and everyone’s aunts, mothers, and family friends are trying to set him up with their friends, sisters, brothers, nieces, and nephews at every wedding he attends. he’s tired of it. what better way to solve his problem than to employ your help, someone who’s having the exact same one?

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Blind ♡୨୧ -> @wtf-taeyong

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Roommates with benefits ♡★✹ -> @shuaflix

SUMMARY ▸ initially, wonwoo doesn’t think much about your incessant requests to play on his xbox. however, when what was supposed to be a two-hour visit to his place stretches out for two weeks, he starts to think you’re overstaying your welcome.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Momentum ♡୨୧♤ -> @wonlouvre Part 2 , Part 3

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ His favourite colour is blue ♡୨୧ -> @euphoricsunflowers

summary: there’s this guy in your history class who is so attractive, but he’s cold and closed off. guess you gotta fix that.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Love me tender...or maybe not ♡★ -> @multi-kpop-fanfics

Summary: cupids are the messengers of love and eros. but not all of them have truly experienced eros, in mind and flesh.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Your friends suck ♡୨୧★ -> @bambikisss

Summary: Your friend group is filled with people who tend to push their wants onto you, so with you being a pushover, you sorta let them. Wonwoo takes notice after a while and begins to help you pull away.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Just ask ♡୨୧★ -> @idyllic-ghost

synopsis: you're not very good at asking for things, especially not of the sexual kind. but maybe you can be driven to a point where you simply have to ask.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Amour-Haine & Co ♡୨୧★ -> @wonwoosthetic

Six years. Six long years have you been working side-by-side with your father. Balancing studying at university while playing his right hand throughout it all without ever complaining about how hard it was, but rather always putting 200% into everything you did. You helped him grow the company to where it now was.

And now, after the many ups and downs you have shared, he retires only to let the company get bought by some young wannabe Jeff Bezos, who thinks money and looks is everything he needs to get him through life.

If someone thought you’d just let this pass and work as Jeon Wonwoo’s side chick… they would be wrong. So, let the games begin.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Blood love , Part 2 ♡୨୧★ -> @multi-kpop-fanfics

Summary: Swearing off human blood can be condemning for a vampire - despite Wonwoo surviving without it for decades. But living in the current era is much more different than the past - because you exist.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Good luck charm ♡★ -> @sluttywoozi

Summary: Progamer!wonwoo is having a minor breakdown in a closet pre-tournament. Good thing you know the perfect good luck charm for him!

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Sucker (for you) ♡✹ -> @gyu-effect

SUMMARY || First year in college was always known to be stressful with all the assignments to complete, parties to enjoy and lectures to attend. But for you, it was a whole different type of stress: the conflicting (and growing) feelings of affection towards your best friend. Falling for him isn’t an option, but neither is avoiding him. So what do you do when you are down bad for the one and only Jeon Wonwoo?

Or, in which, one drunk party sends you hurtling down a rollercoaster of love for your best friend.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Meet cute of the century ♡୨୧★ -> @lovelyhan

the last thing you expected when you volunteered at your city’s local animal shelter is to meet the hottest cat person in the world. now if only he’d just adopt one of them so you’d stop ogling him every time he drops by.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Homewrecked ♡୨୧★ -> @ncteez

Wonwoo doesn’t seem to realize that you’re giving him the best option out of a relationship that doesn’t even involve you. With a cheating best friend on one side, and a loyal Wonwoo loving her from two hours away on another, you decide that home wrecking isn’t always a bad idea. 

or the one where wonwoo fights internal demons over wanting you bc he’s in a relationship that he doesn’t even realize is falling apart.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ POV ♡୨୧ -> @by-soleil

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Something old, something new ♡★ -> @kwanisms

summary: When you get the news that your cousin is getting married, you lie about bringing your boyfriend as your date. Panicking, you ask your best friend, Wonwoo, to be your fake boyfriend.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ The Peephole ★ -> @rubyreduji

summary: wonwoo can’t stop thinking about how he wants to ruin his roommate, the peephole in his wall isn’t helping tamper those desires either

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Pretend It's Someone That Came for You ♡୨୧★ -> @beefboyandbabygirl

description: you're lonely. you're so lonely you think it might actually kill you. but when wonwoo transfers to your office, he might just change that fact.

[ More wonwoo fic recs will be updated ]

Want more Seventeen fic recs? -> Click here

[moonstruckme]

AH if ur taking halloween requests for steve… how about steve and reader going to a haunted house and him “protecting” reader (he’s a scaredy cat) or something of the like

Yes halloween requests for all! Thank you gorgeous <3

Steve Harrington x fem!reader ♡ 496 words

Haunted houses are perhaps the best excuse for hand holding ever contrived. Really, you might need to find the creator of this one and send them a fruit basket or something, because Steve has not loosened his grip on your hand since you went in the front door. It’s a bit harsh, actually, almost bruising, but you like him just enough not to mind. 

“There’s definitely something around that corner,” Steve mutters. The hand not holding yours is flexing like he wishes he had a weapon. “Definitely.” 

“They don’t have corners in these places for nothing,” you agree. “Don’t, like, hit anyone, okay?”

“M’not gonna hit anyone.” His steps grow slower as you come to the corner, as if he thinks he’s going to sneak up on whatever’s waiting for you. 

You’re both peering around the corner when the clown surprises you from behind. 

You shriek delightedly as Steve whips around, yanking you behind him. You’re pressed between the wall and his backside, a not-unpleasant place to be. You set a hand on his shoulder, peeking over as the clown howls with deranged laughter and your boyfriend wields him off with frantic hand gestures. 

“Shit,” Steve pants once the thing sinks back into the shadows. 

“Yeah.” You’re similarly breathless, anxious giggles fizzing in your chest. “Shit.” 

“Where the fuck did he come from?” He steps away from the wall, from you, and turns to look at you. Pushes a hand through his hair. “Shit, sorry. I didn’t hurt you, did I?” 

You shake your head. “Nope.” You pull him closer by his hand, kissing him on the cheek. “That was very sweet, how you protected me.” 

Steve makes a quiet scoffing sound, but even in the dark you can see some color rising to his face. “Uh, yeah, that’s kind of my job,” he says, like duh. 

You smile and move your grip up his arm, squeezing his bicep as you advance forward. His skin is smooth and the muscle firm under your touch. Steve’s hair glows purple as you finally go around the corner, thinking, logically, that the big scare in this portion of the house is over. 

You’re wrong. A woman in a tattered wedding dress jumps out at you, shrieking bloody murder, and Steve lets out a short scream as he jumps back. 

“Ow! Steve, my toes!” 

“Gah!” Steve reacts as though this is equally as scary as the bloodied bride, jumping off your toes and holding out his hands to keep her at bay. She streaks past the two of you, going to haunt some other part of the house. 

“Sorry.” Steve isn’t looking at you now, head on a swivel for the next threat. “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah.” You pat his arm, stepping around him. “I’m fine. I think I should probably take the lead for a while, though.” 

Steve grabs your shoulder before you can get far, urging you back behind him. “I really don’t think that’s going to help.”