#hes looking at your smile and then suddenly youre clutching at your chest eyes full of pain and fear and you look at him for help
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subtlenighttribute · 2 days ago
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Can I Have a Hug? Pt. 2
Selkie AU | Love and Deepspace Boys x Reader
Fluff | Vulnerability | Comfort | Rafayel human form | Seal form for everyone else
---
It was just one of those days once again.
Not awful, not catastrophic—just quietly heavy. A restless ache behind your eyes. The kind of day where the world felt one size too tight, and even the wind seemed sharp.
You didn’t say anything at first.
You just wandered down to the shore, wrapped in your comfort hoodie, watching the tide roll in with a tight chest and too many thoughts.
The seals were already there.
Your boys.
Floating, basking, flopped in various adorable piles of flipper and sun-warmed fur.
They noticed right away.
But they didn’t come to you yet.
Not until you whispered the words:
“Can I have another hug? Please?”
---
🐺 Sylus
He turned so fast it startled the gulls.
A blur of white darted through the shallows and flopped up onto the sand beside you. He didn’t squeak. He didn’t make a show of it.
He just pressed his warm body against your side, leaned his full weight into you, and tucked his nose under your arm like, “Yes. Always.”
You wrapped your arms around him and closed your eyes.
His heart beat strong and steady beneath your hands.
---
🫧 Rafayel
The second the words left your mouth, Rafayel shifted.
Water shimmered around him like light on pearls, and suddenly he was there, his pelt covering him, hair windswept, and dripping seawater like an ocean-slick daydream.
He didn’t say a thing.
Just strode across the sand, gentle and focused, until he stood right in front of you.
“Come here, sweetheart.”
His arms opened—and you stepped into him like gravity had made the decision for you.
His hug was warm. Full-bodied. The kind that surrounded you. He held you like something precious, hands cradling the back of your head as your cheek pressed against his collarbone.
“Been holding that in for a while, haven’t you?” he murmured, voice soft and low.
You nodded.
He kissed your hair. Once. Light and reverent.
“You don’t ever have to ask me for a hug,” he whispered, his breath brushing your temple. “But I’ll always be honored when you do.”
---
🪨 Zayne
Zayne didn’t move right away.
He sat on his favorite rock, just watching you. Unblinking. Sharp eyes softened by something unreadable.
But when you looked at him with that quiet ache behind your smile and repeated—
“Zayne… hug?”
He slid into the water, paddled silently up to you, and bumped his forehead to your chest with a soft thunk.
He didn’t wrap around you like the others.
He let you wrap around him as much as you wanted.
His whiskered nose pressing onto your cheek.
---
☀️ Caleb
Caleb squealed.
Loud. Happy. A little startled.
Then, with maximum force, he flung himself at you in full seal tackle-hug style and knocked you straight into the sand.
“CAREFUL—”
Too late.
You were buried under seal.
He curled into you immediately, flippers gripping you like a toddler’s clutch. Warm, heavy, reassuring.
You buried your face in his side and let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.
“Thanks,” you mumbled.
He squeaked back, muffled by your hoodie.
His body language practically shouting, “Anytime. Forever. Again??”
---
🌊 Xavier
Xavier was already close.
He’d been watching from just behind a rock, low in the tidepool, eyes calm.
When you asked, his seal head tilted ever so slightly—then he swam forward with quiet grace and slid ashore beside you.
He didn’t say anything.
Didn’t squeak.
Just rested his head gently in your shoulder and closed his eyes.
You stroked his soft fur with slow, grateful fingers. Arms around him tightly and for the first time that day, your chest didn’t feel so tight.
---
Later…
You were covered in seals.
Heavy, comforting, seal-shaped love.
You didn’t realize how much you needed it until now.
Not just a hug.
This.
The wordless warmth of five hearts pressed to yours.
And not one of them ever made you feel like you were asking for too much.
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prisvvner · 11 hours ago
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૮ . . ྀིა⁩ ʏᴜᴊɪ ɪᴛᴀᴅᴏʀɪ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘʟᴜꜱʜɪᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴅᴏᴏᴍ
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"Okay, what the hell is that," Yuji blurts, nearly jumping out of his skin. His arm flails mid-flinch and sends the popcorn bowl teetering on the edge of the coffee table.
You grab it just in time, cradling it like a newborn, then turn to him with raised eyebrows. “Uh… it’s just a video of Labubus.”
Yuji’s eyes are still glued to the screen in full-blown fight-or-flight mode, his mouth slightly open in disbelief. “Just? Just? That—thing—looks like a Furby had an existential crisis, then crawled out of the Mariana Trench with unresolved emotional damage.”
He snatches the remote from the cushion beside him and slams the pause button. On the frozen screen, Labubu—the pastel-colored, drooling puppet-like character with googly eyes and four wobbly limbs—grins directly into the camera. Its felt cheeks are unnaturally rosy, and a glittery trickle of something viscous leaks from the corner of its mouth. It looks like it's about to lurch forward and whisper your Social Security number.
Yuji points dramatically at it. “Why is it smiling like that? What does it want from me?!”
You blink, then stare at him like he’s the one who crawled out of the ocean. “Yuji. It’s a puppet from a children’s show. It teaches kids how to count and share.”
“I don’t care if it teaches calculus, that thing is cursed,” he insists, eyes still wide. “It moves too fast. And it sings in that whispery, echoey voice like it’s standing right behind you.”
You’re already dissolving into giggles, clutching the popcorn bowl to your chest. “Oh my god. I didn’t realize you were scared of cursed plush toys.”
“I’m not scared,” he huffs, sitting up straighter like his pride depends on it. “I’m… appropriately cautious. That’s healthy.”
“Mhm. So you flinched like someone just threw a molotov cocktail because of a singing sock puppet?”
“Yes. Because it’s unholy.” He crosses his arms and nods once, very seriously. “I’ve faced curses that whisper through walls. I’ve never trusted things that smile that much. Not even Gojo.”
You laugh harder. “Okay, fair.”
Two days later, Yuji gets a text from you mid-morning:
Hey, got you something 💕 Hope you’re feeling brave today.
It’s accompanied by a photo of a suspiciously plush-shaped gift bag with sparkly pink tissue paper sticking out like flames.
Which is how Yuji ends up standing in your doorway twenty minutes later, expression grim, like he’s about to defuse a bomb. The gift bag dangles from one hand while he eyes it like it might start singing.
“Babe…” he says, tone low with dread. “Tell me this isn’t what I think it is.”
“Just open it,” you say sweetly, arms crossed and trying not to giggle.
He sighs like a man on death row and carefully peels back the tissue paper.
And there it is.
A Labubu plushie. About ten inches tall. Same wide, stitched-on grin. Same googly eyes. Its little felt arms are sewn open like it’s begging for a hug—or preparing to latch onto his soul.
Yuji holds it up like it might suddenly sprout legs. “…Is this… what I think it is?”
You beam. “Her name is Trouble. She sings when you hug her.”
He gapes at you in betrayed silence. Then, reluctantly—reluctantly—he brings the plush to his chest.
Trouble immediately emits a garbled, staticky jingle: “Haaaappppy daaaaay! Let’s eat crayons!”
Yuji yelps like he’s been electrocuted and launches it across the room. It bounces harmlessly off the couch cushions, still smiling its twisted little smile.
He scrambles backwards until his spine hits the wall. “WHY does it want to eat crayons?! That’s not normal behavior! Why is that part of the lesson plan?!”
You’re doubled over, gasping for air between snorts of laughter. “Oh my god—I can’t breathe—Yuji!”
He’s pink in the face now, arms flailing. “You brought evil into this house!”
“I brought wholesomeness!”
“That’s not wholesome! That’s a trap!” He runs a hand through his hair. “I’m breaking up with you.”
“You say that every time I buy you something cute.”
“Because you keep gifting me possessed objects! First the cursed toaster, now this?!”
Later that night, you tiptoe out of the bedroom to get water. You freeze when you see him passed out on the couch. The TV is playing a muted rerun of a nature documentary. His mouth is slightly open, one hand resting over his stomach.
Tucked under his arm, snuggled into his chest like it belongs there, is Trouble.
Still smiling.
Still smug.
You take a photo in perfect silence.
It becomes your new lockscreen.
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i've had this piece sitting in my drafts since january, it's inspired by my best friend hating on labubus with a burning passion (he's scared of it lol)
✧・゚written by @prisvvner ⛓️ do NOT repost, steal, translate, or claim as your own. 🖤 reblogs are love — theft is not.
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delicatebarness · 1 month ago
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Extremely cracky but I am cackling at the thought of Thunderbolts endcredits(/Doomsday?) Bucky and pregnant reader hanging out with other heroes and the topic falls on everyone's hero suits and someone asks reader what she thinks of Bucky's new suit and she goes "Well, does this answer your question?" and points at her belly because he absolutey knocked her up when Bucky fucked her still wearing the fit.
If you want to make it smutty it can always include a flashback. 🤷‍♀️
in the suit?! | bucky barnes
Summary: ^^ Request
Warning: 18+ Minors DNI | Possible Thunderbolts* Spoilers | Smut | Detailed Open Door | Dirty Talk | Innuendos | Are we still saying John Walker as a warning? | Choking | Pregnant Reader | Mild Language | Alcohol Use | Suit Kink
Word Count: 965
A/N: I had a lot of fun writing this. And getting to stare at clips of Bucky in the suit as references. Thank you. Ps-Gif has nothing to do with the one shot, but fuck.
Everything: @hallecarey1 | @pattiemac1 | @uhmellamoanna | @scraftsku35 | @ozwriterchick | @sapphirebarnes | @rach2602 | @thetorturedbuckydepartment | @lanabuckybarnes
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Present:
Your post-mission debrief had somehow turned into a party—beers around a bonfire, with s’mores. Yes, someone had brought s’mores. It was Bob. You half suspected that he’d googled ‘what do friends do for fun?’ on the way back to the tower.
You were sitting on a lawn chair, mocktail one hand, the other absently rested on your stomach—the baby bump very much obvious at this point. Behind you, Bucky stood with one hand on your shoulder and his vibranium hand wrapped around a beer while he looked like he wanted to re-enter the void any time anyone got too loud.
And naturally, Yelena got loud.
“Okay, here’s the real question,” she called out, waving her beer bottle around the team like a sword. “Which one of the ‘new’ Avengers has the best suit?” 
“That’s so subjective.” Ava groaned.
“Exactly my point,” Yelena replied. “Subjectively, it’s me.”
Puffing out his chest, Alexei snapped. “I will ignore this insult and remind you of this iconic design!” 
“You literally squeak when you move,” Walker said. 
“You squeak emotionally.” Ava scoffed, taking a swig of her own beer bottle.
Walker pointed toward Bob. “What about him? Dude’s got like, three different fits.”
Bob smiled politely, yet his hand visibly trembled. “Thanks… I’m molecularly unstable.” 
Then suddenly, all eyes turned to Bucky.
Including yours. 
How could they not? The matte black suit. The red star. The arms. 
After a beat of silence, someone—you think it was Ava—looked at you and said: “What do you think of Barnes’ new suit?” 
Bucky froze. His hand tightened against your shoulder. Slowly you lowered your mocktail, raising your brows toward Ava.
“Well, Miss Starr,” you gave your swollen stomach a gentle double tap. “Does this answer your question?” 
In surprise, Yelena dropped her beer into the grass. Alexei smiled, until the realisation flashed over his eyes and he clutched his chest like he’d been shot. Bob blinked rapidly in your direction, as though he was running a diagnostics. Walker let out a bark-laugh, quickly turning it into a full wheeze. 
“No. Nooo,” He shook his head, the laughter still ringing through your ears. “Are you saying—Wait—in the suit?!” 
You smirked, and shrugged your shoulders slightly. “Didn’t even take the glove off.” 
Bucky’s eyes widened. 
Three Months Ago:
The safe house door slammed behind you. You barely crossed the entryway before Bucky had you pressed against the wall. His breath was hot, his body humming with some leftover tension from the mission.
He was still in his New Avengers suit—matte black kevlar clinging to his body like a sin, his dog tags swung with every move, and his arm plates clicked together.
You barely had time to catch a breath before his mouth crashed into yours. 
“Are you going to keep the suit on?” you murmured between kisses, fingers tracing the lining of the red star embroidered into his right arm. 
His teeth pulled at your bottom lip. “Are you complaining?” 
You weren’t.
Instead, you desperately tugged on his belt.
He growled.
And before you knew it, your legs were around his waist, his arm braced under your thighs. His vibranium hand reached up to cup your cheek, trailing his lips over your jaw with a ragged breath.
“You’ve been staring at me in this thing all damn day,” he hissed against the shell of your ear. “Did you think I didn’t notice, babygirl?” 
“Maybe–Maybe I wanted you to.”
In response, he ground his hips against you—still dressed, but the feel of him had you clenching around nothing. Bucky didn’t rush. He never did. He made you feel it. He made you feel him. And every ridge of his suit, the inches of him still layered between you.
Finally, he freed himself, and you let out a sharp gasp at your underwear being shoved aside. “Don’t hold back, sergeant.” you breathed, fingers entwining in his hair, pulling the strands. 
And he didn’t.
With one hard thrust, he was buried to the hilt—dragging out a broken moan from the back of your throat. He was rough, relentless. His hips snapped into you, driving you like he was proving a point.
He let your name fall from his lips. 
The suit creaked with every movement, and his gloved right hand tightened around your thigh. His grip was bruising. His left hand found your throat—firm, grounding. Just enough to make your vision blur—not enough to lose control.
“You take me so good, baby,” he panted. “Fuck—you’re so tight, can feel you everywhere.”
Unable to form words, you gasped. High-pitched, wrecked whines of: ‘Harder—’. Pushing your chest out, you felt his dog tags swing between your breasts with every thrust.
Bucky’s fingers found your clit—still gloved, the textured leather moved over your skin toward the sensitive nub—rubbing tight, delicious circles. 
You screamed his name.
Your body shuddered against him, vision turning white at the edges as your orgasm washed over you. Bucky’s hips stuttered, groaning deep from his chest as he spilled into you. His forehead pressed to yours. 
He didn’t let you go.
Breathing hard, you clung to him.
Present:
“So, just to confirm,” Walker continued to laugh. “Bucky Barnes, the Winter freaking Soldier, turned into a thirst trap and you said ‘yes’ without any hesitation?”
“I said ‘harder’, actually,” you corrected, taking your mocktail straw between your lips.
Bucky muttered under his breath, looking up to the sky, up to the stars. “You tried to, at least.” 
Yelena collapsed into Ava’s shoulder. “I never want to see that suit again.” 
“I’ll be seeing it again, tonight,” you said sweetly, standing up to make your way toward the bathroom. Patting Bucky’s chest as you pass. “Pizza first, though. I’ll need the carbs.” 
Bob blinked. “Should–Should I get more s’mores?”
“Yes, Bob,” the New Avengers said in unison.
___
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thyme-in-a-bubble · 4 months ago
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i’ve never made a request before so sorry if this is bad but if you could write something about matt murdock with a fake dating trope like that would be so cute, especially if there’s feelings realized during/after it :)
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a/n: i swear, i tried to just keep this short and sweet like how i usually keep requests, but then the fantasy i came up with was just too fun and too much like a fucking romcom not to just let myself go ham and turn it into a full-on long fic
word count: 3778
∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽
masterlist | join my taglist
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Leaning your weight against the bar, you waited for Josie to return with another round of beers for you and your friends, who still remained exactly where you’d left them, all clustered around the pool table further into the space. 
Absentmindedly, you fiddled with the ring so often glued to your fingers, passing the heirloom from each digit and sliding it onto the next. It had been your grandmother’s, and ever since her passing, the simple golden circle with a little jade embedded at the cusp of it, rarely stayed in your jewellery box as the act of simply glancing down at it on your finger somehow offered you a drop of comfort in moments of mundane gloom. 
As the heirloom arrived at your left ring finger and slid down over the knuckle, a familiar voice suddenly emanated like an echo after the bar’s front door had swung open. 
“Y/n?” your whole body froze up at the unexpected timbre. 
Slowly, you twisted around to discover none other than your ex, wide eyes trained on you as he clutched the hand of a leggy blonde. 
“Henry!” you gasped, hoping they mistook the horrified look on your face for innocent shock, “oh my god…” 
Without any warning, the next thing you knew, he’d yanked your stunned form into a hug, “how the hell are you?” he clapped your shoulder as if you were old school chums, “it’s been so long.”
“I’m–, uhm, fine,” you managed to reply. 
“Yeah?” he smiled, the insincerity in your tone completely flying over his head, “that’s great.” 
Simply to be polite, you awkwardly asked, “…how are you?” even though you truly didn’t wish to know the answer.  
“I’m good, yeah, life’s been kinda crazy lately because–, oh,” he suddenly paused to glance back at the girl by his side, “Y/n, you remember Rebecca, right?”
“Mhm,” you hummed and offered her a glance, fearing steam might billow out of your ears at any moment, “hi.”
“Hey,” she smiled brightly as she tossed her luscious locks over her shoulder, “and please don’t mind him,” she clapped a palm over Henry’s chest, “he’s just freaking out, you know, usual guy stuff before finally getting tied down.”
“I’m sorry,” you blinked, nearly pinching yourself to test if this was a nightmare or not, “before what?”
Rebecca then held up her left hand to flash you the massive rock nestled on her fourth finger. 
“I finally popped the question!” Henry grinned and draped an arm around his fiancé.
“Wow, oh wow, that’s–…” you sputtered as the blonde promptly shoved her hand in your face for you to get a better look, “that’s a really big rock, right there, on your finger…” your touch floated up and tilted her palm slightly, the light from the neon sign close by glinting in the diamond, “congratulations…”
“Thanks!” she smiled down at the ring herself before her fingers suddenly captured your own and twisted your hand around, “oh wait, congrats to you too!” 
“What?” you still simply tried to keep breathing through this agonising gut-punch of an encounter. 
“I know they say that size doesn’t matter,” Rebecca eyed the tiny green stone that adorned your grandmother’s ring, “and it doesn’t! I mean, that’s so pretty,” she uttered in a sugary sweet and insincere tone that made you feel as if you were back in high school again, “understated, simple.” 
“Ah, no way,” Henry peeked down at your hand, “you’re engaged too?”
“Uh…” you let out a shaky breath, “yep,” the lie then suddenly flew out past your lips before you had a chance to stop it, “that’s me! I’m getting married.” 
“That’s amazing,” your ex let out an airy chuckle, “who’s the lucky guy?”
But before your lips could part and let out another lie, Josie returned, “here you go, hon,” and slid four beer bottles across the bar to you before adding, “and would you tell Foggy to stop sitting on the edge of the pool table? It’s old and I can’t be responsible if it breaks on him.”
“Sure thing,” you promised and snatched up the drinks. 
“Is that your man?” Henry cast a glance to the lawyer Josie had gestured to, “Foggy, was it?”
“Foggy?” a soft giggle couldn’t help but bubble out of your lungs, “no! Don’t get me wrong, he’s great, but no, sadly, he’s already taken.” 
“Then who is it?” 
“Is it the other guy over there?” Rebecca chimed in as they both sent their glances towards your friends, “the one in the light blue shirt and tinted glasses?”
“Uh, yeah…” you squeaked as you slowly turned to look at Matt as well, “that’s–, uh, that’s him,” you watched as he readjusted his grip on the cue stick in his hand, “that’s my future husband…”
“Hm,” a sliver of judgment slipped out of Henry, “wouldn’t have pegged him to be your type.”
“Well, maybe my type has changed,” you stated, letting your lingering resentment show before you noticed how harsh it had come out and your stomach immediately began to twist and knot in regret, “I–…” you swiftly winched, “sorry,” and averted your gaze, “have a nice evening, uh–, I’m gonna go back to my friends,” you stumbled as you tried to escape. 
Though as you turned to walk away, Henry’s voice found your ears one last time, “bye!” before you heard his fiancé turn to him. 
“Pookie? Would you order me a cosmo?” her voice began to fade into the background, “I’ll go find us a table…” 
You simultaneously felt as if a truck had just run you over as your feet carried you back towards your friends, yet also completely numb, as if you’d been turned into a floating ghost of the person you used to be. 
“Who the hell was that and why do you look like you’re about to throw up?” Foggy asked cautiously as he grabbed two of the bottles in your grasp and handed one off to Matt. 
Passing one of the remaining drinks off to Karen, you then lifted your own up to your lips before tipping it back and downing around half of its contents. Once you tilted the dark green bottle back down, you were out of breath as you began to explain, “that,” you wiped your bottom lip with one of your knuckles, “was my ex,” you used that same finger to hazily point back over your shoulder, “and his fiancé,” your eyes stayed fuzzy as you added, “who happen to be the girl that he cheated on me with for a year before I one day finally caught them together.”
“Oh my god…” Karen breathed, her bottle frozen halfway on its journey up towards her lips. 
“It was on easter,” you shared, “he thought I had gone back home to see my family, but I’d actually decided to secretly do this whole big surprise, like I thought I was in fucking rom-com or something,” you sighed at your past self, “but then when he got home from work, and I was all decked out, waiting on the bed, in bunny ears and everything,” you heatedly gestured to the top of your own head, “he wasn’t alone.”
“Wow…” Foggy stared. 
“Yep…” you exhaled heavily, taking another swig before you made the mistake of glancing back over your shoulder just as Rebecca shrugged off her coat and slinked onto a stool at one of the small tables, “fuck!” you exclaimed as if you’d just stubbed your toe, “she’s even hotter than I remembered. How is that possible?” 
“Oh, she’s not that pretty,” Karen tried, but you swiftly cut her off. 
“You shut your face, she’s basically a human-sized Barbie,” your glare roamed one last time from the top of her platinum locks to the bottoms of her high stilettos, “god…” you sighed as you finally averted your gaze and lifted your bottle to drown your sorrows, “I was such an idiot back there. It was like my brain just stopped working and–, oh my god!” your palm shot up to cover your mouth as you then suddenly recalled the lie that had slipped out. Slowly, your wide eyes drifted to Matt, who still remained silent, “oh no…” 
“What is it?” Foggy chimed in. 
“Matt…” you uttered tensely, knowing your friend well enough to be aware of just how much of the interaction with your ex he had overheard, “I am so sorry…”
“What?” Karen’s glance darted between you both, “what’s going on?”
Paralysing embarrassment churned your stomach and choked out any attempt you made to share the truth. But luckily, as your erratic heartbeat thumped and found Matt’s sharp ears, he eventually filled in instead, “…they thought that she was engaged as well and then assumed that I was the guy.” 
“I am so, so sorry,” you gasped, “I don’t know why I didn’t correct them.”
But to your amazement, Matthew simply shrugged and offered you a reassuring smile, “it’s okay, don’t worry about it.”
“I was just fiddling with my ring and then they just–…” you then snuffed out your frantic explanation and instead repeated once again, “I’m sorry…”
Saddling up beside you, Karen planted a palm on your shoulder, “hey, if that was my ex, then I’d wanna give him some of his own medicine as well,” she stated, “if not just straight up cut off his balls, which is what he really deserves.” 
A faint smile then began to soften your expression as you glanced around at your supportive friends, Foggy briefly reaching out to pat your other shoulder. 
But as you averted your eyes to the nearly empty bottle in your grasp, a thought suddenly struck you like a bolt of lightning, “wait, I have an idea…” your gaze slowly lifted to lock on Matt, “I mean, you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to, I totally get it, but would you mind, just while they are here, to–, uhm…”
Cocking his eyebrow, he finished your sentence, “…to pretend to be your fiancé?” 
“I know, it’s stupid, and I should probably just go home right now instead of playing some weird and immature game of revenge or whatever,” you uttered as you made the decision to lie in the grave you’d dug for yourself, “but I would forever be in your debt, I'm serious.” 
Sucking in a breath, he barely had to think about it before he murmured, “sure.”
“Really?” you gasped, your brows shooting up, “you’ll do it?” 
“Yeah, why not?” Matt shrugged, “it’s the very least he deserves for treating you like that.”
“Oh,” you crossed the short distance between you two and threw your arms around him. It took a second before you felt him hug you back, but when the alcohol got to your head and made you mutter, “I love you,” into his shoulder, a low chuckle rumbled in the lawyer's chest before you parted ways. 
“So,” Karen then began to fish out the colourful spheres and roll them back into the green felt, “do we still wanna play another game?”
“Hell yeah,” Foggy picked a cue stick back up before adding a playful threat, “you’re not beating me again this time, Page.”
Once the table was set up for another round of pool and you were a few turns in, your gaze couldn’t help but wander back towards the other end of the bar too often to keep track of. Though, soon on one of the fleeting looks, your eyes grew wide as you discovered you weren’t the only one sneaking glances.
Discreetly, you shifted closer to Matthew and leaned in to whisper, “he’s looking over,” however, when he then draped an arm around your frame, you couldn’t help but stiffen up, as you hadn’t thought that far in the plan yet, “what are you–”
“Shh,” Matt hushed your squeak, “just lean into me,” he shifted to stand tall behind you, arms enveloped around your form as he slowly drew you back against his chest, “smile,” his low voice tickled the shell of your ear and caused goosebumps to erupt across your skin, “and don’t look at him.” 
Redirecting your vision back towards the game before you, you narrowly managed to catch sight of the silent slut-shaming the other lawyer flashed his friend with but a glance, before he went back to the mischievous mission he was on. 
“Foggy, would you quit it?” Karen grumbled at the man beside her as he wildly waved both of his hands in her periphery, successfully knocking off her concentration as she tried to line up her shot. 
“No way,” he kept up his flapping, even causing Karen’s golden locks to get picked up by the breeze he produced. 
“You’re cheating.”
“Nope, I am not touching you nor the table,” he stated as if he was in court, “distracting you doesn’t break any rules.”
And as she finally made her attempt, the ball didn’t go in, causing her to explode in a roar, “damn it, Fog!”
“Ha, ha, yes!” he jumped as she straightened back up, “you know, I taste something right now, what could that be? Oh yeah, victory. And it tastes sweet as candy store.” 
“Urgh,” Karen rolled her eyes at him before her glare landed upon the both of you, “Matt, your turn. Would you please set him in his place?”
“Gladly,” Matt chuckled, and as he shifted closer to the pool table, he nudged your side and asked, “hey, would you give me a hand?”
Swallowing a chuckle as you already knew he very much didn’t need it, you cocked an eyebrow, “you want my help?”  
“Yeah,” he uttered clearly and let his real message seep through his tone, guiding your gaze to flicker back toward Henry, who’s stare was still locked upon you both, “so come help me.” 
“Oh!” it finally clicked in your brain, “right,” and you swiftly slid in beside him. 
With bated breath, you grabbed Matt’s hand that wasn’t clutching the pole, and guided it over the ivory ball that rested close to one of the corners. As you began to map out and tell him where each of the other spheres were, your eyes flicked over to notice just how close you now stood, as your nose nearly grazed against his stubbly cheek as you murmured guidingly. When you retracted your touch, you barely noticed how a few of Matt’s fingers reacted, faintly following your fading palm for but a second before it floated back down to the white orb below it. 
Once he’d made his shot, you lingered in the proximity and whispered, “do you think they’re buying it?” 
“Hm?” 
“This,” your eyes momentarily flickered back towards your ex across the bar, “us.”
Matthew’s brows then floated up as you reeled him back in to the matter at hand, “oh, I–, probably.” 
“Or should we do something else?” your mind kept on spinning, “I don’t know, I feel like I’ve completely forgotten how all of that works,” you shared, “kinda just numbed and cut off that part of myself after he broke my heart, it was just how I had to get through it, shut down a little bit because suddenly romance was terrifying…”
“...can I ask you something?” he asked quietly after a breath, and when you offered him a hum in confirmation, he uttered, “are you still in love with him?” 
Time stretched out before you finally replied, “I was, for a very long time…” your voice stayed small, “…but no, not anymore… I kind of thought I was, but then seeing him again cleared it all up. All I feel when I look at him now is rage,” you exhaled, “and pity, just because I know him too well, know everything that’s messed up about him…” silence encumbered you both for a moment before you then opened your mouth once more and said, “so, should we hold hands or something?” you asked plainly, though when a genuine laugh then began to billow out of Matthew, your eyes blinked up at him as your brows swiftly knit together, “what?”
“You know,” he tried to snuff out his chuckle, “if I was actually your fiancé, I wouldn’t just stand around and hold your hand all night,” he then leaned in the short distance till his lips nearly tickled the shell of your ear, “I would have dragged you into the bathroom by now and forced the whole bar to hear us fuck.” 
“I–, u-uhm,” you flusteredly stammered as your face began to heat up, “y-yeah, yeah, that’s good too,” you barely registered your own words as they slipped out past your lips, “if that’s what you wanna do–, I mean! Shut up!” you squeezed your eyes shut as soon as you regained your own senses, “just hold my hand, you dick,” you cursed over his laughter as he swiftly slipped his palm into your own.
“Cut it out, Karen,” Foggy’s voice cut through your haze and caught your attention. 
Glancing over, you spotted as Karen was giving him some of his own medicine, pettily leaning into his eye line, “what? You were the one saying that distractions weren’t against the rules,” she continued to glare in hopes of throwing him off his game, “why? Is this not working? Do you need me to scream directly in your ear instead?”
“Oh, would you?” he sarcastically looked to her, his pitch climbing up high at his words, “going deaf in one ear is exactly what I need to beat you.”
As your wandering gaze then flickered back towards the opposite end of the bar, your eyes grew wide as you spotted only Rebecca still seated at the small table, pink cocktail in her grasp. 
“Shit,” you spotted Henry as he crossed the room, confidently walking precisely in your direction, “he’s coming over,” you hissed, and in your muppet-like panic, your hands clasped each side of Matt’s face and yanked him in for a kiss. 
At first, he froze up as you continued to freak out, but then, as his broad palms slowly slid over your waist, all of your alarm began to melt away. It felt as if you were drifting off to sleep as you relaxed into the kiss. Never in your wildest dreams had you imagined that kissing Matt would feel like this, not that such a fantasy was something you pondered often or even at all, but as you felt his tongue flicker out to dance softly against your own, your knees beneath you wobbled as you lost yourself completely. How long the peck drew out remained a mystery, as when you eventually parted, the reasoning behind it wouldn’t emerge in your memory no matter how hard you tried. 
Though as you stood there, blinking back at Matt, still utterly spellbound by the unexpected feelings currently bubbling and bursting inside of you, the man now standing off to the side cleared his throat and brought you back down to earth. 
“Bunny–, I mean, Y/n,” you whipped your head around to catch sight of your ex, “just thought it would have been awkward if I didn’t come over here to introduce myself before me and Becca took off,” he muttered before his gaze fell to Matt, his arms slowly fading from your form, “I'm Henry, nice to meet you,” your ex then offered his hand, though the lawyer by your side didn’t grasp it, even if his heightened senses had lent him to pick up on the gesture. 
“Matt Murdock,” he uttered on a cold exhale. 
Stuffing his rejected palm into his pocket, Henry then asked, “what do you do?” 
“Matthew’s a lawyer,” you took over, slotting yourself into Matt’s side before you dramatically clasped a hand over his chest, “saves people for a living. That’s actually why we’re out celebrating tonight, he just won yet another case.” 
“Oh, well congratulations then,” Henry offered in well-forged petty politeness. 
“Yeah, I was there, watching him do his thing,” you uttered as some bitter goblin of resentment then took over your soul and caused you to say, “and oh boy, I tell you, if only it would have been socially acceptable for me to interrupt the trial just to rip his clothes off, because wow.”
A scoff then rippled in Henry’s chest, “okay, sure,” his stare upon you narrowed as he then grumbled, “we both know you’re not exactly the groupie type of girlfriend.” 
“Well, maybe your sorry ass was never worth her supporting you in that way,” Matt suddenly cut in, “maybe because you never bothered treated her that way in return,” his guess hit the bullseye, “and maybe that has a little something to do with why I was the one to put a ring on her finger and not you,” your heart thumped in your chest as Matt’s touch returned to the small of your back, protectively sliding over your waist as he continued to speak in a low and chillingly stern tone, “that or you really are as terrible of a lay as she told me you were, during those very first nights when she finally learned what it was like to be with someone who wasn’t a complete fucking idiot.” 
Utterly stunned, you watched Henry’s expression as he scrambled his brain for a way to crawl back from that, but eventually, when no suitable words came to his pea-sized brain, his feet slowly began to shuffle back till his hand had snatched up his fiancé’s and he’d yanked her with him out of the bar. 
As the door swung closed behind the pair, a celebratory squeal burst from your lungs, “oh my god! Matt, that was incredible!” you jumped in place before throwing your arms around him, “I don’t know how to thank you.” 
Tangling his own arms around you, he uttered, “I’m sure we’ll come up with some way you can make it up to me.” 
And as you withdrew, just enough to smile back at him, your gaze began to drift back down towards his lip just before Foggy’s voice cut through the palpable tension.
“Do I need to remind you guys that you’re not actually engaged?” 
“No,” Matt then murmured as the two of you parted ways, quietly enough for his words to be completely inaudible, “but we could be...” 
“What?” you glanced over at him. 
“What?” he echoed in return, though a bit too quickly. 
“Did you say something?”
“Me? No,” he tried to conceal his lie with a cough, “I-I, uh, think it’s your turn,” he then changed the subject, gesturing to the pool table behind you. 
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bunnis-monsters · 3 months ago
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Incubus Husband Angst(GOOD END)
Pt1
WK: 1.7k
warning: mentions of a womb tattoo, breeding, make up sex, tail use
A/N: the yandere and no forgiveness ending will only be available to my kofi members! I’ll post a link to each ending when I finish writing them ^^
It was later in the evening, and you were just getting home from work. The day felt like it went on forever, and not just because your boss was being hard on you for missing a few days of work.
No, you couldn't get your mind off of your husband... if you could even call him that still. Your entire heart ached every time you pictured his smiling face in your mind, and it made focusing on your tasks nearly impossible.
Seeing his things littered across your apartment, or smelling his perfume in your car as you drove home was just another reminder of what had happened.
At times you wondered if you had been too harsh... and then you remembered his words. The heartbreak suddenly turned into fury, making your hands clench around the wheel before you settled back into an emptiness that threatened to consume you.
Did you still love him?
That question was something you didn't even want to answer. You knew you did, after everything not only did you love him, you adored him. He had made you feel beautiful after years of hating yourself and others too.
Why did he have to do the very thing that made you dislike yourself all over again?
Jealousy... what an ugly emotion. All your life you had always been jealous. Jealous of other women, of the way they looked themselves in the mirror with a smile instead of contempt, of how they were able to love someone without being looked at with disgust…
He had made you forget what jealousy even was for a while. His eyes were always on you, and you even thought that you were all he wanted.
Then he started flirting with other women, always sending you a knowing look. Even if you knew he was just trying to make you jealous, you still felt hurt and... ugly. Every woman he flirted with was perfectly thin, beautiful, and looked nothing like you.
What if he really was into them?
As you pulled into your driveway, you raised an eyebrow when you noticed your front door was ajar. You could have sworn you closed and locked it… but you had been super forgetful as of late.
Since you sent him away…
“Must’ve forgotten…” you murmured, setting down your bag and walking in. It was dark, which wasn’t unusual. Lucian left all the lights off besides the one in your bedroom when you weren’t home. He didn’t want to make the light bill go up…
Lucian wasn’t there anymore, though. So you didn’t expect your bedroom light to be on when you walked in…
Not only was the light on, but on your bed was the one person you wanted to see the most, and yet dreaded speaking with.
“Lucian? What are you doing here?”
He flinched when you used his full name. For most of your relationship, you called him Luci. “Don’t be angry, love, I just wanted to talk.”
Your heart thumped against your ribcage. He was here, his soft lilac colored hair tied back so you could get a good look at his face.
Lucian was even paler than he usually was, his golden eyes a bit puffy and red. Had he been crying?
“Not much to talk about…” you murmured, hanging up your coat. “You’re single again, so there’s no need to hold yourself back. Go talk to all the women you want.”
Lucian clutched his chest, as if your words had hurt his heart. “(Name)… please, don’t say that. You can’t just end things like this.”
“I already did, Lucian. You just don’t know how to take a hint.”
The incubus stood, his tail swaying in either annoyance or anxiety. “Please, before you kick me out… just allow me to talk. All I ask for is five minutes of your time…”
He reached out and held your hands in his, squeezing gently. A shiver went up your spine when his skin made contact with yours.
“2 minutes, alright?”
You didn’t miss the way he perked up when he noticed your flustered appearance, but he didn’t comment on it.
Lucian took a moment to compose himself before he began. “(Name)… I want to apologize. I hurt you and what I did, talking to that girl and teasing you… it was stupid.”
It took everything in you to keep your eyes on his face. You wanted to turn away and cry just from him mentioning what happened…
“…”
He sighed, his tail drooping. “Being apart from you… it’s been the hardest thing I’ve ever had to experience. I…”
His eyebrows knit together, tears threatening to spill from his watery yellow eyes. “I love you more than anything, I’d never cheat on you, ever. Flirting and trying to get you jealous… It was selfish of me to not even think about how that could hurt you. Not just this time, but every other time, too.”
The two of you were quiet for a moment. Lucian’s tail swayed nervously, his claws clicking together as he waited for your answer.
When you looked over his face, you noticed the dark circles under his eyes and the slight redness to them. It was clear he had been crying, and your husband wasn’t getting much sleep either.
In the past, he had always clung to you desperately when it was time for bed, nuzzling and cuddling into you. The sudden lack of your warmth during bedtime probably left him feeling cold and tired…
A rumble came from his belly, and he clutched his belly with a wince. That meant he hadn’t been with anyone while he was gone!
Your eyes widened at the realization. He had gone without sex, unable to eat or sleep without his wife near.
Your insecurities slowly started to melt away, the jealousy ling forgotten about. “… I forgive you, Luci.”
That broke the dam, and he couldn’t hold back his tears. Lucian sobbed as he spring forward, wrapping his arms around you. Kisses were left along your face and neck as he blubbered.
“Th-thank you… thank you so much, my love. God, I missed you…”
You simply hugged him back, playing with his long black hair. He was starving, and you missed him too, so you smiled when his tail moved up your skirt and pressed against your panties.
He bit down on your neck, growling lightly. Lucian needed to fuck you, he hadn’t eaten in a week at this point.
It didn’t take long for him to lift you into his arms and carry you to bed. Some hot make up sex would do both of you some good.
“I love you more than anything…” he said between kisses, his tail rubbing against your wet panties. “You’re the only one I want to make love to, the only one I feel anything for…”
That was truly an honor. Incubi and succubi were incredibly careful with who they chose to become mates with.
Once mated with someone, they could no longer gain sustenance from other people, and were tied to them for the rest of their partner’s life.
Lucian’s tail slipped past the damp fabric and began rubbing against your clit, his tongue tangling with yours. He was desperate for you, his cock already leaking precum onto your belly.
“Beautiful…” he cooed, squishy your plump hips and soft tummy. “Don’t you ever doubt that, love. I chose you…”
You let out a breathy moan as his mouth latched onto your nipple, suckling eagerly as his tail pushed into your needy cunt. It wriggled around inside of you, making you cry out in pleasure.
“L-Luci!”
He placed his hand over your womb, smiling down at you as a womb tattoo was placed there. It was one of his powers as an incubus.
You had played around with them before, but the effect began immediately.
“This one enhances your pleasure and makes you more fertile…”
Lucian nuzzled his face against your neck, the slight movement causing you to cum around his tail. “That’s my girl, I’m gonna make it all up to you…”
He pulled his tail out, letting you suck on it and clean off your juices while he positioned his cock at your hole. It was clenching around nothing, and he was happy to know you were ready to be fucked.
“Shh, baby…”
He caressed your cheek as tears of pleasure fell from your eyes. “That's it, let me take care of you… it feels good, doesn’t it?”
Lucian moved his hips slowly, fucking into you just enough to relieve some of the pressure building in your belly, but not enough to completely satisfy you just yet.
“Mmm, you look so cute when you’re all needy…”
Usually, he’d tease you for a good bit, but today he wanted to focus entirely on your pleasure.
His hands gripped your plump hips, squeezing lightly. You were so damn soft and warm, it made him want to cum inside you and give you the baby you had been asking for.
You came around his cock several times, and all he needed to do for your walls to tighten up for another orgasm was gently flick your perky buds.
The womb tattoo made you extra sensitive, every touch and caress made you cum, and you were getting overstimulated, fast!
“F-fuck, sweetheart… so tight, you’re squeezing me like crazy.”
You wrapped your arms around his neck, bringing him in for a kiss as he came inside of you.
The night was full of lots of creampies and lovemaking. By the end of it, his hunger was satiated and you were full of cum.
“You’re really ready for a baby..?” you asked, tracing circles into his naked chest.
“Mhm… I am now.”
All he knew is that he didn’t want to play around and tease you anymore, you were everything to him. If you wanted a baby, so did he.
So the two of you went at it again the next night. You walked in to see Lucian in his favorite set of lacy lingerie, waiting for you on the silk sheets as if presenting himself to you like a gift.
“Let’s try again, love. I missed you while you were at work…”
——————
NSFW TAGLIST: @avalordream @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljra @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68 @danielle143 @kittenlover614 @filthybunny420 @annavittoria-mm @makimamybelovedwife @blubearxy @omglovelylaila @toocollectionchaos-universe-blog @fruk-you-usuk-fans @hammerhead96-blog @slightlyusedfloormat @bubblez-blop @sunshineangel-reads @heroneki-neko @soapybabyboop @anonymouskiwi @flamefoxx @sandramalikstyles-blog @breathingstarlight
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dollyswishingwell · 4 days ago
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ᯓ★ˎˊ˗ Mama’s princess
𝒲𝒾𝓈𝒽 𝑔𝓇𝒶𝓃𝓉𝑒𝒹 𝒻𝑜𝓇 ˙⋆✮ Rafayel, Zayne, Xavier, Sylus, Caleb
𝒢𝑒𝓃𝓇𝑒/𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔 ˙⋆✮ heart wrenching fluff, very obsessive men who copy pasted themself as their daughters, as a mamas girl we need more representation, having a daughter would heal me.
> ִ ࣪𖤐.ᐟ You and your husband have a adorable baby girl who adores her mommy
Masterlist
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𝙍𝙖𝙛𝙖𝙮𝙚𝙡 °‧🫧⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
The villa is quiet for once, sunlight drifting through the sheer curtains, sea breeze fluttering in from the private cove. Somewhere outside, the tide kisses the sand. Inside, it’s all soft linens and quiet footsteps… and the sound of a very small, very serious voice calling,
“…Mama?”
She waddles down the hallway in her tiny babydoll dress that matches your nightgown perfectly, hair a soft wave of lavender that mirrors Rafayel’s, cheeks still warm from her nap. One fist rubs her eye; the other clutches her favorite shell—spiraled and faintly iridescent. A gift from her father, who said it matched the pigment of your wedding dress.
You’re in the conversation pit, curled under a throw blanket, still a soft baby pink nightgown. A book sits unopened in your lap. You don’t even get a full second of peace before she toddles up and climbs into your lap like she owns it.
“Mama,” she whispers, snuggling against your chest. “Mamaaaaa. You go sleep too.”
You smile, brushing her hair back from her flushed face.
“But I just woke up, baby.”
She frowns, deeply unconvinced. “Papa said you sleepy. So I say sleepy too.”
At that, Rafayel leans against the doorway, arms crossed, eyes shimmering like bioluminescent tidewater. His shirt is half-unbuttoned, sleeves rolled. Paint smudges dot his fingertips, he’s been in the studio again. But now he’s here, watching the two of you with a tilted head and a lovesick grin.
“She’s very convincing, isn’t she?” he drawls. “I told her to let you rest. She said no.”
“Because she’s your daughter,” you murmur.
“No,” Rafayel says, crossing the room. He kneels in front of you, pressing a kiss to your daughter’s temple… then one to your wrist. “She’s yours. I’m just the dreamy side character in the background.”
“She looks exactly like you.”
“She looks at you the way I do.”
The little girl hums, cuddling tighter. “Mama best…”
Rafayel’s breath hitches, and his expression turns soft, suddenly, achingly quiet.
“She says that even when I give her presents,” he mutters like he’s been personally betrayed.
You laugh. She pats your chest like she’s claiming you. “Mine.”
“Exactly,” Rafayel says, not even hiding the pout now. “You’re mine, too.”
You roll your eyes. “Now who’s the toddler?”
“Still me,” he sighs dreamily, settling beside you on the couch and draping his long arms around both of you. “But I’m the one who gets to keep you when she grows up.”
The little one squints at him. “No, daddy.”
“Traitor,” he hisses under his breath. “I’ll remember this.”
She burrows into you tighter. “Mamaaaa, daddy’s being mean…”
Rafayel groans, flopping dramatically across your lap like an ignored cat. “She’s obsessed with you. I helped make her from scratch and she doesn’t even like me.”
You pet his hair, laughing softly. “She adores you.”
“She drew on my paintings,” he whines.
You kiss his temple. “With your pigments.”
“She stole my pearl necklace to use it as a leash for her plush crab.”
“And yet, you let her.”
He goes quiet. His fingers link through yours.
“…I do.”
Outside, the sea keeps whispering. Inside, your family clings to you, two creatures of moonlight and tide, pretending not to need you quite as badly as they do. You pretend you don’t know. And let them both keep you.
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𝙕𝙖𝙮𝙣e ⋆꙳•❅‧*₊⋆☃︎ ‧*❆ ₊⋆
Zayne always said your daughter would be quiet, observant, calm like him. But the moment she could form words, she had a very clear opinion about one thing:
You belong to her.
At three years old, she’s the miniature image of her father. Jet-black hair, hazel green eyes like sea glass in sunlight, the same intense stare Zayne levels at hospital board members when they start talking politics. But her voice? Her little hands tugging your sleeve? All yours.
“Mommy,” she demands from the kitchen doorway, clutching her stethoscope toy and a crumpled picture she drew. “mommy, no work. Sit.”
You blink from the lunch box. “Baby, mommy needs to pack daddy’s lunch—”
“No,” she says with terrifying finality, crossing her arms like she’s ready to revoke your oxygen privileges. “Come cuddle. Now.”
From the living room, Zayne watches this unfold with a slow raise of his brow. He’s lounging in a soft gray button-down, his reading glasses still on from earlier, calm, collected… and being completely ignored.
“She’s definitely yours,” he murmurs.
You smirk. “You say that like she didn’t inherit your death glare.”
Zayne’s lips twitch. “That’s not my death glare. That’s her ‘I will cry until you legally belong to me again’ glare.”
“She doesn’t cry.”
“She saves it. For tactical advantage.”
Sure enough, your daughter now flops dramatically onto the floor like she’s been abandoned in the rain. “Mommyyyy…”
“Okay, okay,” you laugh, scooping her up. She immediately melts into you, cheek pressed to your shoulder, arms clutching around your neck like she never plans to let go. “There. Happy?”
Zayne folds his arms, gaze dropping to her. “I offered to carry her earlier. She said I could carry the groceries.”
Your daughter lifts her head slightly. “Mommy soft.”
Zayne blinks. “So am I.”
She pats your cheek, ignoring him entirely. “She smell like cookies.”
“I bought the cookies.”
Still nothing.
Zayne sighs like he’s been defeated in surgery. “You know, I gave up a prestigious cardiovascular research offer to spend more time with my family. This is how I’m repaid?”
She yawns against your chest. “Mommy soft.”
You glance over, smiling. “She loves you. She’s just… velcro.”
Zayne leans over and kisses your forehead, then hers. “That makes two of us.”
Later, you fall asleep on the couch with her in your arms, her tiny hand tangled in your shirt. Zayne covers both of you with a blanket, kneels by your side, and watches. He gently brushes her hair back, then rests his head on your lap like he’s the one who never grew out of needing you.
You’re still hers. You always will be.
But you’ll always be his, too.
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𝙓𝙖𝙫𝙞𝙚𝙧 ⋆⭒˚.⋆🪐 ⋆⭒˚.⋆
The softest mornings always start like this.
Sunlight filters through the curtains of the penthouse, casting pale gold across ivory sheets and your silver-haired husband’s face. Xavier is already awake, propped lazily against the headboard in a loose white sweater, blinking slowly down at the tiny copy of himself currently curled up on his chest. She’s three, long silver hair tied into two low, lopsided pigtails, little brows furrowed in focus as she holds a plushie in one hand and pokes at Xavier’s cheek with the other.
“Daddy,” she says, very seriously. “You’re wrong.”
Xavier blinks again. “…About what?”
“About Mommy,” she declares. “You said Mommy can’t cook.”
You, half-asleep and half-laughing from your side of the bed, mumble, “He said what?”
“I didn’t say she can’t,” Xavier replies gently, wrapping a hand around her tiny waist so she doesn’t roll off him. “I said she shouldn’t have to.”
The toddler frowns. “But you said if Mommy doesn’t stop trying to make steak and soup at the same time the stove would explode.”
“That’s because it almost did.” He pauses. “Three times.”
You lift your head, pillow creasing your cheek. “That’s not fair. The soup was almost good that time.”
“It was purple.”
“It was beetroot!”
Your daughter, ever loyal, crosses her arms and huffs. “I like purple soup.”
“You said it tasted like sadness.”
“I said it tasted like soft sadness!” she argues, now sitting up on Xavier’s chest like a judge about to rule in your favor. “And Daddy can’t cook because Daddy burned the toast and said the toaster was possessed!”
Xavier looks over at you, deadpan. “Why is she like this.”
“Because I carried her in my body for nine months and gave her taste, thank you.”
He blinks slowly again. “You bribed her with cupcakes last week.”
“She’s a growing girl.”
“She had four.”
“She has your metabolism.”
“Do not turn that into a compliment.”
The little one beams, holding her arms out to you. “Mommy makes purple soup and cupcakes and strawberry milk and hearts in pancakes!”
You sit up and pull her into your lap, planting kisses across her round cheeks as she squeals with joy.
Xavier watches, still expressionless, but his fingers twitch faintly, like he’s holding back the urge to reach over and cuddle you both. You catch it, of course, and raise a brow.
“You jealous?” you tease.
“I’m outnumbered,” he says. “You’ve clearly replaced me.”
“You’re always asleep in the fridge when we make pancakes.”
“Not in the fridge.”
You glance at your daughter.
She nods solemnly. “He sleeps on the cold floor like a sleepy bird.”
Xavier exhales slowly, muttering, “She gets more cryptic by the day…”
But when she lays her head against your chest and clings to you like you’re the sun itself, Xavier only leans forward to rest his head on your shoulder too, brushing a kiss to your temple in silent truce.
“…Fine,” he murmurs. “You win. You’re both cute.”
“Told you,” his daughter whispers smugly. “Daddy can’t cook.”
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𝙎𝙮𝙡𝙪𝙨 ✮ ⋆ ˚。𓅨⋆。°✩
The master bedroom smells like roses and black tea. The blackout curtains are drawn tight, Sylus’s preference. The velvet walls absorb all sound but the rustle of tissue paper and your delighted gasps as you twirl before the floor-length mirror.
“Does this one look too formal?” you ask, gesturing at the shimmering deep-red gown hugging your figure like a scandal. “It screams ‘your wife,’ right? Not ‘your subordinate.’”
Sylus lounges in the center of the enormous bed like a dark deity. Boxes from twelve different luxury brands are cracked open around him, tissue and silk tossed like discarded feathers. His red eyes flick up from the gold anklet you just modeled to your sparkling eyes, and a soft smile tugs at his mouth.
“You were never a subordinate, darling,” he murmurs. “You were a weapon. Now you’re mine.”
He says it with dangerous pride, the same voice he uses when threatening diplomats. Except now, it’s laced with something far more dangerous: affection.
You grin, dropping onto the edge of the bed to kick off your heels. “You’re just saying that because I broke my ribs and you made me quit.”
“You almost died,” Sylus says coolly, reaching over to trace the curve of your thigh with his knuckles. “You were shaking when I found you. Do you think I enjoyed threatening the head of the Deep Space Hunters for your resignation paperwork?”
“Yes,” you say sweetly. “You did.”
He smirks. “I did.”
Before you can reach for the next necklace, the bedroom door creaks open, no knock, just the determined steps of your three-year-old daughter.
Pale silver hair, sharp red eyes that glow faintly when she’s cranky, and a silken pink dress that she demanded match yours. She holds the hem in both fists like a noblewoman and stares at Sylus.
“Papa,” she says seriously. “Mama wears sparkles. I wear sparkles.”
You blink. “I told her she could play dress-up. I didn’t think she’d pick one of the Valyris crystal gowns—”
“I picked the big one,” she adds smugly, pointing behind her.
Sylus slowly sits upright. “…That gown costs more than a spacecraft.”
“She’s wearing it to the castle tea party,” you whisper, like it’s a perfectly normal sentence. “The one I had built last month.”
He stares at you.
You smile. “I also hired a private chef to make macarons in her favorite colors.”
Sylus exhales, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’ve created a monster.”
“She’s a mama’s girl.”
“She tried to set a tripwire in the armory yesterday.”
You gesture. “And? She’s yours.”
The little girl climbs up beside you, curling into your lap with all the elegance of a smug cat in a tiara. “Mama smells good,” she hums. “Mama’s mine.”
Sylus levels a cold glare at her. “She’s mine.”
“No,” she says primly. “You can have the guns. I have Mommy.”
You try not to wheeze.
Sylus slowly rises to his feet. He walks to the mirror, adjusts the cuffs of his dark shirt, and says calmly, “She’s already challenging me.”
“She built a throne out of your blazer and said you weren’t allowed on it.”
“I gave her that blazer,” he growls. “As a token of dominance.”
“Well,” you murmur, holding your daughter as she plays with your necklace, “looks like she took that token and conquered your empire.”
Sylus turns to face you both, expression unreadable.
Then, after a pause, he sighs and walks back to the bed. He lifts you both, carefully, gently, and lays you against the mountain of velvet pillows. He sits beside you, wrapping one arm around your waist and the other over his daughter’s legs.
“Fine,” he mutters. “But if she wants to take your place, she has to earn it.”
Your daughter looks up at him, deadpan. “I will.”
You blink. “Sweetie, no—”
“Don’t worry,” Sylus hums, voice smooth as poison silk. “I’ll train her.”
You both stare at each other, a storm and a spark. Meanwhile, you just kiss her forehead and sigh.
Two crows. One kingdom. And you, their queen, smiling as they try to out-love you.
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𝘾𝙖𝙡𝙚𝙗 ⋆。 ‧˚ʚ🍎ɞ˚‧。 ⋆
The boutique smells like jasmine and rare fabrics. It’s tucked into the uppermost tier of Skyhaven, invitation only, security locked down tighter than classified military zones.
And it’s empty.
Of course it is.
Caleb bought out the whole store for the afternoon. Just for you.
He sits on a plush velvet couch, tall and stiff in his black Farspace Fleet uniform, gloves still on, peaked cap casting a shadow over his purple eyes as he watches you step out in a beaded white gown that hugs your waist and drips diamonds across your hips.
The assistant starts to speak, something about the gown’s price, and Caleb holds up one gloved hand without even looking at her.
“I’ll take it.”
You giggle.
“You haven’t even seen the next one.”
“I saw enough. You’re buying that one.”
He says it like he’s giving orders to a fleet, not talking to the love of his life. But that’s Caleb, your possessive childhood protector, now the cold, feared Colonel who keeps you tucked in silk and obsidian glass.
He watches every move you make with thinly veiled obsession. You’re his secret. His softness. His weakness and his win.
But lately… you’ve started to like it.
The locked penthouse in Skyhaven? Now your favorite place in the world. The security drones that shadow your every step? You call them your bodyguards. The fact that he took your Hunter license and burned it in front of you?
You’d cry about it, if you weren’t currently standing in 7-inch stilettos while your two-year-old daughter spins beside you in a tutu, holding a necklace that costs more than a hovercar.
“Daaaaddy,” she whines sweetly, dragging out the vowels, “this one sparkles like Mama!”
Caleb exhales, just slightly, adjusting his cap as he leans back.
“You already have five necklaces.”
“I want this one,” she declares, pointing to a diamond choker. “It’s so shiny.”
“She’s right,” you chime in innocently. “And she’ll need something appropriate for your banquet, Colonel.”
His jaw flexes.
“Pipsqueak,” he says slowly, “you’re already wearing a thirty-thousand dollar gown. And I saw what you did to my card last week.”
You give him your best, softest princess eyes.
“Am I not worth it?”
Silence. His purple gaze burns through you like a slow-cutting laser.
Then, to the assistant: “I’ll take that necklace too.”
His daughter claps. “Yay! Thank you, Daddy! Now get the pink one too.”
He turns his head slowly.
“…Excuse me?”
“She’s smart,” you add sweetly, kneeling to kiss her cheek. “Just like her Mama.”
And just like that, you’ve won.
Again.
Later, you’re changing into a new dress behind a silk curtain while Caleb sits with his daughter in his lap, letting her braid his gloves with ribbon. She tells him all about her “castle in the sky” (aka the penthouse’s rooftop garden you filled with fairy lights and glass swan fountains) and how “Mama is the most beautiful girl in the world, and you’re lucky she married you.”
He doesn’t argue.
He can’t.
Because when you step out in the final gown, a deep violet silk that matches his eyes, he goes completely still.
Like a soldier caught in enemy fire.
“You wore this for me,” he says, low, reverent.
You smile. “I always do.”
His daughter claps again and yells to the staff, “My Mommy wins! She always wins!”
And Caleb?
He leans back, defeated, in love, completely ruined.
“…Yeah,” he mutters, as he watches the two of you glow in the boutique lighting like you own the universe. “She really does.”
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writeriguess · 2 months ago
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Hii! If you don't mind, can you write an bakugou x fem reader where reader likes Katsuki and everyone including Katsuki knows cuz she always gives him gifts (that he throws out), compliments him, and overall just always there annoying him and one day Katsuki had enough and lashed out on her telling her that she's annoying and insulting her. Reader ofc got hurt by this and stopped. You can decide if it's full angst and no happy ending or angst but happy ending!
If you don't like writing something like this it's fine!! I love your works btww!!💕💕
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Too Much
You were relentless.
Every morning, you greeted him with that same bright smile. Every training session, you cheered him on, even when he didn’t need it. Every holiday, you left little gifts—protein bars, extra bandages, even stupid handmade keychains with tiny explosions on them.
And every time, Bakugou threw them away.
It wasn’t that he didn’t notice you. No, everyone knew you liked him. Even he knew. How could he not, when you made it so damn obvious? You were always there, always orbiting around him, always pushing and pushing—until one day, he finally snapped.
It happened after class, in the locker room hallway. You had just handed him another stupid little package, a neatly wrapped box with a bow on top. Probably some homemade treat again. His jaw clenched. His patience ran out.
"Tch—just stop it already!"
You blinked, taken aback. "Huh?"
"Just fucking stop, alright? You’re so goddamn annoying!" His voice was sharp, cutting, full of frustration that had been building for months. "Always following me around, always giving me shit I don’t need, always acting like—like if you do enough, I’ll magically like you back!"
Your hands curled around the gift, fingers trembling. The sting in your chest was immediate, like someone had punched all the air out of your lungs. "I-I just…"
"What, huh? You think if you keep this up, I’ll suddenly give a shit? News flash—I don’t!" His ruby eyes burned into you, his scowl deeper than ever. "I never asked for any of this! So just… fucking quit it already!"
Silence.
You swallowed hard, lips parting like you wanted to say something, but the words never came. Instead, you nodded—once, twice—before clutching the gift to your chest and walking away. No tears. No protests. Just… silence.
And for the first time in a long time, Bakugou felt off.
***
Days passed. You avoided him. You weren’t dumb—you heard people whisper about it. You saw the looks your friends gave you, full of pity. And you hated it. So you threw yourself into training, into your studies, into not thinking about him.
But Bakugou?
He noticed.
At first, he told himself it didn’t matter. But every time he glanced at his desk and saw nothing there, every time he caught himself looking for you in a crowd, every time he found himself missing your voice, something gnawed at him.
And eventually, it ate him alive.
So one day, he found you sitting outside, staring at the sunset, and without thinking, he sat next to you.
You stiffened, eyes flicking to him, but said nothing.
A long silence stretched between you before he finally muttered, "You stopped."
You scoffed, shaking your head. "That’s what you wanted, right?"
His hands curled into fists. "I—…Fuck, I didn’t mean—" He exhaled sharply, frustration mixing with guilt. "Look, I was a dick. I know that. But I didn’t…" He struggled, searching for the right words. "I didn’t want you to go away."
You stared at him for a moment before looking away, voice quiet. "Then why did you tell me to?"
Bakugou had no good answer.
But for the first time, he reached into his pocket and pulled something out—a small, worn-out keychain. One of the stupid explosion ones you had made. The one he hadn’t thrown away.
And for the first time, you saw the faintest dusting of pink on his cheeks as he shoved it toward you.
"Shut up and take it back."
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hoshifighting · 8 months ago
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hihi i love your work and writing soo much and i wad hoping if you could do seventeen reacting to their s/o calling them their husband when they aren't married yet (i hope this makes sense lol) 💗💗
seventeen reaction to you calling them your 'husband'
seungcheol: he goes from zero to full blush in a second. he freezes, hand halfway reaching for his wallet, and then he’s grinning so hard his cheeks hurt. “husband? me? you just made my day, you know that?” he says, all smug, but his ears are bright red.
jeonghan: raises an eyebrow, smirking like you’ve just revealed your master plan. “oh, husband? so, we’re skipping the proposal, straight to the good part?” he teases, leaning over to kiss your cheek. “alright then, what else does your husband want?”
joshua: he’s shy about it, glancing around like he’s hoping the drive-thru person heard it too. then he smiles all soft and leans in close, whispering, “you calling me your husband now? can’t wait to make that official,” and suddenly you’re the one blushing.
junhui: sparkles with pride, looking at you like you just handed him the moon. “husband? well, that’s a promotion if i’ve ever heard one!”
hoshi: it takes him a second to catch it, but once he does? game over. he’s literally bouncing in his seat, grabbing your arm like, “wait, did you just call me husband?!” practically shouting, “babe, i can’t believe you just said that!”
woozi: completely silent, but his face goes bright red. he looks away, clearly trying to hide his shy smile, don't say anything, but thinks about it all day tho, until he cant hold it anymore. “babe... you—we in drive-thru you—umm.. called me husband?”
wonwoo: his lips twitch up into a small smile “husband?” he repeats, liking how it sounds. then he raises an eyebrow. “guess i should start acting the part. anything else my spouse needs?”
minghao: smirks immediately, leaning back in his seat, crossing his arms. “didn’t know you were so forward,” he says all casually, but his cheeks are pink. “but hey, if you wannaaaa start calling me that, i’m not.. complaining.”
mingyu: he’s so shocked he practically yelps. “husband? me?!” he’s grinning like a little kid, unable to hide how thrilled he is. “i can’t believe you just called me that! like, actually? oh my god! did you hear that?” he asks to the attendant.
seokmin: his eyes go wide, jaw dropping as he looks at you in disbelief. “wait… did you just say husband?” he starts laughing out of pure joy... or nervousness, grabbing your hand. “you can’t just drop that on me like that! guess we’re getting serious now?”
seungkwan: “oh my god, did everyone hear that? husband!” he’s clutching his chest like he’s swooning, acting like it’s the best compliment he’s ever gotten. “if this is how you’re gonna talk to me, we better start planning a wedding.”
vernon: just stares at you with those big eyes, blinking like he’s processing what you said. then he breaks into a shy smile, looking down. “um.. first you need to talk with my momma about it” he jokes quietly, a little flustered.
chan: “husband? oh, we’re there already? are you readey? cause im am ready and—” he laughs. “not gonna lie, i kinda like the sound of that.”
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jacaerysgf · 1 year ago
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jacaerys x bethrothed!reader - grief
a.n: felt so sick after seeing the new still i needed to write smth
You were pacing in front of the door waiting for him to walk in. You had seen vermax fly over and knew he was finally back. It had been so long since you last saw him you had no clue how you were even going to react when you did.
You had no clue how he was going to react. You had not see him since he flew away from dragonstone, not before he had given you a kiss and smile promising to return shortly.
The doors suddenly hope and he walks him. The first thing you notice about him was his hair, and then you notice the confused look on his face as he glances at you then at the room full of people who look at him with pity.
“What has happened?”
It should be one of them to break the news to him, his mother or even his father but the two of them seem too distracted in their grief they were not even here to greet him.
You walk over to him and wrap you arms around him in a tight hug, he does not reciprocate it as he whispers to you asking you what has happened. You feel the way he stiffens when one of the maesters begins to speak and informs him. You pull back and stay at his side as he stares wide eyed at him, tears already glossing over his eyes. “What happened?”
You watch as he loses his composure the more and more the maester speaks. The way his breath quickens and his eyes only grow with tears. He turns away, breathing heavily out of his mouth as he grips his necklace tightly in his hands. You know being in this room with all these people is not good for him.
“All of you should leave.” You stare at the room and they all seem frozen, “GET OUT!” the room all quickly shuffles around and everyone dashes from the room. You turn your attention back to jacaerys who has bend over slightly, attempting to reach out to him but he quickly slaps your hands away.
“jace-” “It is my fault.” You shake your head though he can not see it and feel yourself also getting chocked up. “You know that is not true.”
He shakes his head and attempts to walk away from you but he stumbles and bit, you got to try and help him but he pushes you away from him. “There is nobody else to blame but me! if i had not been so foolish, to blinded i,,” He cannot continue to speak as tears continue to run down his face, the grip he has on his necklace tightens until he turns to one of the walls and lets out a loud shout as he rips it off his next and chucks it against the wall.
You quickly rush to his side as he falls to his knees and clutches his chest, when he tries to push you away this time his hands are weaker and you ignore him wrapping your arms around him. He leans against you as he sobs, his body violently shaking, his eyes tightly shut as he heaves into you chest, you can feel the tears soaking into your dress.
You rub his arms up and down and lightly rock back and forth, your own tears flow up to your eyes but you cant try now, not as you try to comfort him the best you can. You lean your mouth next to his ear and press a kiss to his temple. “It is nobody else fault other then aemonds arrogance and borros’ greed. It is not your fault my love.”
Your fingers comb your his curls as he slowly begins to settle down a little bit. You don’t know how long the two of you are sitting there on the floor, you do not care the way yours knees ache or the way your dress clings uncomfortably to your skin all that matters to you now is comforting him.
“Should we go see your mother?” He shakes his head and presses against you tightly. “How can i bare to look at her?”
“She needs you jace, just as you need her.” With your words he nods and you help him stand, he clings to you as you two walk through the empty hallways to his mothers chambers.
Before he opens the door he turns to you once more and you can see he’s clearly attempting to let out a smile but his face only contorts oddly before he sighs, “Thank you.”
You nod and give him your best smile as he turns and opens the door, shutting it quickly behind him. You walk away, fearing if you were even too close you’d be intruding on their intimate grieving time.
You finally allow yourself to cry once you enter the hall once more, walking over to the walk and picking up the pieces of his necklace in your hand, it didn't look unfixable, with some work you could repair it just as you’re sure he will be able to repair himself after this.
--
perm jace taglist <3
@tyronesien @itsbookworm987 @cruelworldlana @smurfelle @ireneispunk @hxtd @venmondiese @urmomsgirlfriend1 @jacesvelaryons
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faithsmadhouse · 1 month ago
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Into the Woods||Remmick x Fem!chubby!reader
MDNI+18
Summary—You’ve always been warned not to wander the woods at night, but temptation and curiosity pull you in deeper each time. You never realized you were being watched—or hunted. Remmick, the dark-eyed stranger with a Southern drawl and a wicked smile, has been stalking your midnight walks for weeks, waiting for the perfect moment to make you his. And when he finally pounces, there’s no escaping the possessive grip of a predator who always gets what he wants.
Warnings—Dark Romance Dubcon / Noncon Elements Obsession / Possessive Behavior Stalker!Remmick Size Kink Rough Sex Outdoor Sex Against a Tree Overstimulation Marking (Biting, Bruising) Kidnapping Cabin in the Woods Power Play Dirty Talk Mild Bloodplay (Biting) Aftercare (Possessive and Twisted) Hurt/Comfort (Dark) Forced Proximity Slight Manipulation Innocence Corruption
A/N—THIS IS A DARK FIC READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!!
The moon hung heavy and full in the night sky, casting eerie silver light through the canopy of trees as you navigated the winding path. The leaves whispered under your boots, shadows stretching long and ominous. You pulled your coat tighter around you, breath fogging in the cool air.
You shouldn’t have been out this late. You knew that. Folks in town always spoke of the woods with hushed voices and wary glances, stories of shadows moving in the periphery, of eyes that gleamed in the dark. But you were stubborn—and perhaps a touch too bold for your own good.
The crack of a branch snapped you out of your thoughts, and you froze, heart stuttering in your chest. “Hello?” you called out, voice trembling just slightly. The woods answered with silence.
You swallowed hard, shaking off the chill that slipped down your spine, and kept walking. But the feeling of being watched only grew, prickling the back of your neck until you couldn’t help but glance over your shoulder every few steps. Nothing. Always nothing.
Yet you couldn’t shake the feeling.
The path narrowed, leading you deeper, the moonlight flickering as the trees grew denser. You hurried your pace, each step crunching loudly, almost painfully loud. Your breath came quicker now, clouds of vapor puffing out as you moved faster, clutching your coat.
Something flickered in your peripheral vision—a shadow too quick to be caught. You whipped your head around, but there was only darkness.
A chuckle—soft, velvety—drifted from somewhere just beyond your sight. Your heart leaped into your throat. You spun around, eyes wide, searching the treeline. “Who’s there?”
Silence.
Panic flared, and you abandoned caution altogether, breaking into a sprint. Your footsteps thundered against the forest floor, branches clawing at your coat and tangling in your hair. You didn’t dare look back. You couldn’t.
But you felt him.
The shadows grew thicker, deeper, and suddenly, the air felt colder, suffocating. Your breath came in ragged gasps, lungs burning as you ran. You weren’t sure where you were going—only that you had to get away.
It didn’t matter.
The force hit you from behind like a freight train, a blur of strength and shadows that sent you sprawling to the ground with a cry. Leaves scattered, dirt scraping against your palms as you fought to right yourself, but it was too late.
A hand—cold and strong—pressed between your shoulder blades, pinning you down effortlessly. Another curled around your throat, not squeezing, just resting there, a promise of control.
“Well, well,” came the voice, low and dripping with amusement. “Look what I’ve found wandering all alone.”
You shivered, squirming under his grip, but it only made him tighten his hold just a fraction. His chest pressed against your back, his breath fanning hot against your ear. “Do you know how long I’ve watched you?” he murmured, voice a rasp of want. “How long I’ve waited for this moment?”
“P-please…” you stammered, voice trembling. You didn’t even know what you were begging for—mercy, escape, something—but he only chuckled darkly.
“Oh, sweet thing,” he purred, nuzzling into the curve of your neck, inhaling deeply. “Keep begging. I want to hear more.”
Your heart hammered against the forest floor, the damp earth cold and unforgiving beneath you. His weight pressed you down, unyielding, like he could pin you there for eternity if he wanted. You squirmed beneath him, fingers clawing at the dirt, but it only earned you a low, amused chuckle.
“There she goes,” he murmured, voice dripping with a Southern lilt, threaded with something darker, something old and Irish that curled around his words like smoke. “Like a lil’ rabbit, squirming ‘n thrashin’. Ain’t no use, darlin’. I’ve got you good ‘n proper now.”
“L-let me go,” you gasped, though the words came out pitifully soft. His grip didn’t loosen. If anything, his fingers pressed harder, almost affectionate as they trailed down the curve of your neck.
“Oh, now why would I do somethin’ foolish like that?” he drawled, the grin evident in his voice. “I been watchin’ you for weeks now… all soft curves ‘n pretty blushes. Walkin’ these woods without a care in the world.” He leaned down, lips brushing the shell of your ear, and you flinched at the sensation. “Should’ve known better, sweetheart.”
You shivered violently as his nose skimmed the side of your throat, inhaling deeply. He hummed, almost contentedly, like he’d found something he’d been craving. “Mmm… you smell like fear,” he cooed, his accent thickening with each word. “Sweet little thing, tremblin’ all pretty for me.”
The hand around your throat flexed, his thumb brushing the sensitive spot just beneath your jaw. “You don’t even know who I am, do ya?”
You swallowed hard, the movement pressing your pulse against his palm. “N-no,” you whispered, hating how breathless you sounded.
“Name’s Remmick.” He practically purred it, his fingers trailing down the line of your spine with a slow, deliberate touch that made your skin prickle. “An’ I reckon you’re just about the prettiest thing I’ve seen wanderin’ these woods in a long, long while.”
Your breath hitched, and he chuckled low, dark, the sound vibrating against your back. “What’s the matter, darlin’? Ain’t nobody told you ‘bout the monster lurkin’ out here?”
Monster. The word sank deep, chilling you to the bone. You tried to turn, to catch a glimpse of his face, but he pushed you down easily, pinning you flat. “Ah, ah,” he tsked, voice a dark melody. “Ain’t time for that yet. You’ll see me soon enough.”
His hands slipped lower, skimming the sides of your waist, fingers pressing into the softness of your hips. He made a pleased sound, almost like a growl, that had your cheeks flushing despite the situation. “Look at you… all lush ‘n ripe for the takin’. It’s like you were made for me.”
“No…” you breathed, shaking your head, but he only laughed, soft and indulgent.
“Oh, I think you are, sweetheart. Ain’t no one else out here… just you ‘n me.” His fingers tightened, pulling you back against him, and you felt the hard press of his body, unyielding and impossible to ignore. “Now… what should I do with my little rabbit, hmm?”
You whimpered, the sound slipping past your lips before you could stop it. Remmick hummed low, pleased. “There it is… knew you’d sound sweet beggin’. Might keep you beggin’ for a while yet.”
His lips ghosted over the side of your neck, sharp teeth just barely grazing your skin. “Maybe I oughta mark ya,” he mused, accent thickening to a lazy drawl. “Make sure you know just who you belong to now.”
His breath fanned hot and slow against your neck, the press of his body unyielding as he held you firm against the forest floor. The leaves beneath you were damp, the earth unforgiving, but Remmick didn’t seem to notice—or care. His fingers skimmed along your sides, mapping the soft curves with deliberate, unhurried attention.
“Look at you,” he cooed, his Southern drawl dripping with amusement, thickened by that lingering Irish lilt that curled around his words. “All flushed ‘n pretty… didn’t even have to try hard to catch ya.”
You squirmed under him, but it only made his grip tighten, a pleased rumble slipping from his chest. “Oh, darlin’… keep on wigglin’. Makes it all the more fun.”
His nose brushed the side of your throat, inhaling deeply, and you felt him shudder against you. “Sweet thing… you don’t even know what you’re doin’ to me.”
A whimper slipped past your lips, and Remmick stilled, his grin spreading slow and sharp. “There it is,” he murmured, almost reverent. “Been dreamin’ of that sound. All them nights watchin’ you wander out here, actin’ like nothin’ dangerous could touch ya.”
“W-watchin’ me?” you stammered, breathless, and he chuckled low, the sound dripping with dark satisfaction.
“Every damn night,” he rasped, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “Followin’ you through the trees… listenin’ to those soft little sighs when you think you’re alone.” His hands drifted lower, squeezing your hips with firm possession. “Know what I heard last week, sugar?”
You shook your head, breath coming in ragged bursts as his hands slid over the swell of your thighs, bunching your skirts in his fists. “Heard you whisperin’ to the trees,” he continued, voice a wicked purr. “Sayin’ you wished somethin’ would happen… somethin’ excitin’. Ain’t that right?”
Your cheeks burned, heart slamming against your ribs. “I… I didn’t mean—”
“Oh, but I did,” he drawled, that accent dripping like honey, thick and slow. “I meant every damn second of it.” His hands fisted in your skirts, dragging the fabric up over your thighs, exposing skin to the cool night air. You gasped, but Remmick only chuckled, low and pleased.
“Look at you… so soft ‘n sweet,” he whispered, almost to himself. His hands skimmed your bare skin, fingers pressing into the flesh of your thighs with greedy reverence. “Ain’t nobody touched you like this, have they?”
You tried to shake your head, but the words stuck in your throat, and Remmick hummed low, satisfied. “Didn’t think so. Ain’t nobody would’ve let you outta their sight if they had.” He leaned down, mouth brushing the back of your neck, and you shivered under the sensation. “Guess that makes you mine now, huh?”
His hands tightened, spreading your thighs with a deliberate slowness that had your breath stuttering. “Gonna take my time with you, darlin’,” he promised, voice thick with want. “Make you cry out my name ‘til the whole damn forest knows who you belong to.”
Your hands clenched against the dirt, eyes squeezing shut as his touch grew bolder, rough palms sliding up the inside of your thighs, teasing the sensitive skin there. “Shh,” he crooned, his drawl a slow murmur. “Ain’t no need to be shy now… not when I’ve been waitin’ so long to have you.”
His fingers traced the edge of your underwear, nails scraping lightly, sending sparks up your spine. “Pretty lil’ thing… all soft ‘n mine for the takin’.” His teeth grazed your neck, sharper than they should’ve been, and you cried out softly.
“Mmm, that’s it… makin’ all them sweet sounds just for me.” He hooked his fingers into the waistband of your panties, dragging them down with agonizing slowness, cool air licking over exposed flesh. “Ain’t nobody gonna hear you out here, sweetheart,” he crooned. “So go on… let me hear it.”
The night wrapped around you like a heavy cloak, the cool air licking over your exposed skin as Remmick dragged your underwear down your thighs with agonizing slowness. His hands were rough and deliberate, fingertips grazing the softness of your flesh, mapping each dip and curve like he wanted to memorize it.
“There we go,” he cooed, his Southern drawl thickening with every word. “Knew you’d be pretty under all that. Soft ‘n sweet… like you were made just for me.”
You shivered beneath him, instinctively trying to close your legs, but his hands shot out, fingers digging into your thighs with enough force to make you gasp. “Now, now…” he murmured, leaning in until his breath ghosted hot over your ear. “Ain’t no sense in hidin’ from me, darlin’. I wanna see all of you.”
Your cheeks burned, but his hands were unyielding, spreading your thighs apart with ease. The chill of the night bit at your skin, but the warmth of his body was scorching, a living furnace pressed tight against you. He hovered over you, gaze raking down the length of your body like he was savoring every inch.
“Look at you,” he whispered, almost reverent. “All spread out for me… all soft ‘n plush.” His hands roamed your hips, squeezing with greedy affection. “Ain’t nothin’ I love more than a woman with a little bit of softness,” he purred. “Somethin’ I can hold on to… somethin’ I can sink my teeth into.”
His teeth scraped the side of your neck, sharp and lingering, and you gasped, the sound high and breathless. He chuckled low, pleased. “There it is,” he drawled, hands sliding back up, rough palms caressing the swell of your hips. “Sweet lil’ sounds… you gonna keep makin’ those for me?”
You opened your mouth to protest, but the words caught in your throat when his fingers brushed over the slickness pooling between your thighs. Remmick went still, his breath catching. “Well, I’ll be damned…” he murmured, accent thick with satisfaction. “You’re soaked, darlin’. Were you hopin’ I’d catch you out here?”
“N-no,” you stammered, shaking your head, but he only chuckled, low and dark.
“Lyin’ ain’t gonna do you no good out here,” he crooned, circling his fingers with deliberate slowness, teasing you until your hips arched against him involuntarily. “Mmm, that’s it… go on. Show me how much you want it.”
His touch grew bolder, fingers slipping through your slick folds with practiced ease. “So wet for me… look at you, sugar. Drippin’ like you were just waitin’ for me to find you.”
A whimper slipped past your lips, and Remmick hummed in approval. “Gonna make you feel real good, sweetheart,” he promised, leaning down to nip at the sensitive skin just below your ear. “Right here… out in the open where anybody could see. Ain’t that somethin’?”
His fingers slipped inside, stretching you slowly, possessively, and you bit back a gasp. Remmick groaned low in his throat, like the feel of you was too much, too good. “Hell… you’re tight,” he rasped, voice thick with want. “Gonna ruin you for anyone else, darlin’. Make sure you remember just who made you feel this way.”
He pumped his fingers slow and deliberate, curling just right to have your back arching off the ground. “That’s it, pretty girl… let me hear you,” he crooned, his accent like velvet and whiskey, smooth and intoxicating. “Ain’t nobody else around… just you ‘n me. Let it out.”
You couldn’t help the moan that slipped free, and his grin widened, sharp and hungry. “Good girl… knew you’d sound pretty when you broke.”
His pace quickened, fingers curling deeper, thumb brushing over that aching bundle of nerves until your legs shook beneath him. He watched you the whole time, gaze fixed on every twitch, every gasp, like he was savoring the way you unraveled for him.
“You gonna come for me, darlin’?” he whispered, voice low and dripping with want. “Right here in the dirt… with my hands buried inside ya? C’mon now… show me.”
His fingers worked you open with a deliberate pace, dragging out every slick sound and whimper that spilled from your lips. Remmick’s grin only widened, sharp and predatory, as he watched you writhe beneath him, your body reacting to every curl of his fingers.
“There we go,” he crooned, accent thickening with every whisper. “Such a good girl for me… takin’ what I give you like you were made for it.” His thumb circled your clit with just enough pressure to have your back arching off the forest floor, a breathless cry slipping from your mouth.
His hand was unyielding, fingers stretching you open as his thumb continued its slow, torturous rhythm. “You like that?” he murmured, lips grazing the shell of your ear. “Bet you ain’t ever been touched like this before… all soft ‘n perfect, drippin’ down my hand.”
You couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe, every nerve lit up with fire as his hand worked you closer and closer to the edge. His voice stayed low and soft, whispering dark promises against your skin. “Gonna make you come, darlin’… right here with your thighs spread wide for me.”
His fingers curled just right, hitting that sweet spot deep inside you, and your hands flew to grasp at the leaves and dirt beneath you, nails digging into the earth. “That’s it,” he praised, his breath hot against your neck. “You gonna come for me, sweetheart? Let me feel you clenchin’ around my fingers?”
You whimpered, hips bucking involuntarily as the pressure built, white-hot and unrelenting. Remmick’s grin turned wicked, and he pressed his lips to the side of your throat, sharp teeth grazing the skin there. “Let go,” he whispered, voice dripping with command. “Come for me.”
The words snapped something inside you, the coil of tension unraveling with a rush of heat and pleasure that left you gasping. Your body clenched around his fingers, thighs trembling as he worked you through it, his touch never faltering. “That’s it,” he drawled, almost proud. “Knew you’d be pretty when you came.”
Your body sagged against the ground, chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. But Remmick wasn’t done. Not even close. He pulled his hand away, and you shivered as he brought his fingers to his mouth, licking them clean with a groan of satisfaction. “Sweet as honey,” he praised, voice husky. “Reckon I might have to taste you proper next time.”
You barely had a chance to recover before his hands were on you again, dragging you up from the ground and into his lap. His strength was effortless, like you weighed nothing at all, and before you could blink, you were straddling him, your skirts bunched around your hips.
He leaned back against the trunk of a tree, hands gripping your thighs possessively. “Ain’t done with you yet, darlin’,” he rasped, voice thick with hunger. “Not by a long shot.” His hands skimmed up your sides, curling around your waist as he pulled you flush against him. The hard press of him against your core made your breath hitch, and he grinned, sharp and dangerous.
“You feel that?” he purred, grinding up against you with slow, deliberate movements. “That’s what you did to me… runnin’ around all soft ‘n sweet like you were beggin’ me to catch you.”
His hands moved to your hips, gripping tight as he rolled his own, dragging you against him again and again, the friction sending sparks of pleasure up your spine. “Think you’re ready to take me, sugar?” he drawled, voice low and teasing. “Think you can handle it?”
The forest was silent around you, shadows stretching long and unyielding as Remmick cradled you against him, his breath still coming in ragged bursts. The warmth of him seeped into your skin, grounding you even as your mind swirled with the aftermath of what just happened. You should have been terrified—should have run the second his grip loosened—but your body stayed pliant and soft against his, boneless in his arms.
Remmick’s hands smoothed over your back, large and warm, palms pressing possessively against your spine. “Did so good for me, darlin’,” he murmured, voice softening to a honeyed drawl. His lips brushed your temple, almost reverent. “Knew you were meant to be mine… knew it the moment I saw you.”
You swallowed hard, head spinning, but the words wouldn’t come. How could you respond? How could you even breathe when he was still pressed so close, body solid and unyielding, keeping you right where he wanted you?
But Remmick didn’t seem to mind your silence. If anything, it pleased him, the soft hum of satisfaction rumbling through his chest. His fingers traced idle patterns along your spine, almost affectionate. “Gonna take you somewhere safe now,” he whispered, voice low and conspiratorial, like you were sharing a secret. “Somewhere they can’t find you.”
You stiffened instinctively, but his hands only tightened, pressing you closer until the hard bark of the tree bit into your back. “Ah, ah… none of that now,” he chided gently, his Irish lilt curling around the words. “Ain’t no sense in runnin’. I’d only catch you again.”
His eyes met yours then, pale and burning with something you couldn’t name. Obsession, maybe. Possession. It sat heavy in his gaze, pinning you in place as his hand slid up to cup your cheek, thumb brushing your lips. “You’re mine now, sugar,” he murmured, the promise thick and unyielding. “Gonna keep you all for myself.”
Before you could so much as blink, he scooped you into his arms, cradling you against his chest like you weighed nothing at all. You gasped, hands flying to his shoulders, but his grip was firm and steady, unyielding as he strode through the shadows of the forest.
“W-where are you taking me?” you managed, voice trembling.
His grin spread slow and wicked, eyes glimmering with dark satisfaction. “Home, darlin’,” he drawled. “Gonna take you back to my place… keep you tucked away where nobody else can touch you.”
Your heart stuttered, panic clawing at the edges of your mind. “You can’t just—”
“Oh, I can,” he interrupted smoothly, not even breaking stride. “And I will.” His gaze dropped to yours, sharp and unyielding. “Ain’t nobody gonna take you from me, sugar. Not now, not ever.”
The trees thickened around you, shadows stretching long and twisted as he carried you deeper into the woods. His arms were unyielding, every step purposeful, like he’d walked this path a thousand times before. You tried to memorize the way, counting the turns and bends, but it all blurred together, the darkness swallowing each landmark whole.
And then you saw it. Hidden among the thick branches and creeping ivy was a cabin—dark and looming, half-consumed by nature. Its windows were covered, shadows shifting behind the glass, and the door stood slightly ajar, like it had been waiting.
“There we are,” Remmick crooned, voice thick with satisfaction. “Home sweet home.”
He nudged the door open with his boot, carrying you inside with practiced ease. The air was heavy, scented with cedar and smoke, and the low flicker of candlelight bathed the room in a soft, warm glow. It was almost… cozy. But there was something lurking just beneath the surface—something dark and possessive, clinging to the shadows like an unwelcome guest.
Remmick set you down gently, hands never leaving your waist as he guided you toward the center of the room. His gaze flickered over you, lingering on your swollen lips, the marks on your neck, the bruises his hands left on your hips. He grinned, pleased. “You look real good like that, darlin’,” he murmured, thumb brushing your cheek. “All marked up and mine.”
You shivered under his touch, the weight of his stare making it impossible to think clearly. “Remmick… I…”
“Hush now,” he whispered, lips ghosting over your temple. “Ain’t no need for talkin’. We got all the time in the world now.”
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kxsagi · 26 days ago
Note
OK BUT LIKE
BLLK VROTHERS REACTING WHEN THEIR LITTLE SISTER ASKED THEM TO WALK HER DOWN THE AISLE
maybe rin and sae together
LMAOOOO I IMAGINE THEM SOBBING (we know reo and bachira did lmaooooo
LOVE YOU
“𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐞”
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a/n: LOVE YOU TOOO
THIS WAS SO CUTE TO WRITE
ft. mikage reo, bachira meguru, isagi yoichi, itoshi rin, itoshi sae, nagi seishiro, kaiser michael, karasu tabito
mikage reo
the second the words leave your mouth: “reo, i want you to walk me down the aisle,” he genuinely short circuits. mouth hanging open, hand clutching his chest like an overdramatic disney princess. 
“i… oh my gosh. you mean it? me? me?” he sniffles. hard. “don’t do this to me, i just got a facial.” 
reo is acting like he just got nominated for an oscar. suddenly, he’s pulling up pinterest boards, wedding planners, and muttering things like, “okay, so your color palette is soft blush, but with maybe a mauve undertone… no wait, that’s too 2022. do we want more of a lavender-gray? do you want peacocks?” 
the man is GONE. emotionally. financially. spiritually. he’s designing matching custom outfits for the two of you. he tries to hire a mini orchestra to play you down the aisle. he practices different walking speeds just to see which tempo feels the most cinematic. 
and the night before the wedding, you find him curled up in a fluffy robe, hugging a childhood photo of the two of you and softly whispering, “my baby girl is getting married… what if i trip and ruin the moment? should i rehearse again?” 
on the day? he’s sobbing. like, ugly crying. “you’re the most beautiful bride in the whole world. even if you’re not wearing chanel.” 
bachira meguru
you go, “hey, i was wondering if you could walk me–” 
“YES. YES I WILL. A THOUSAND TIMES YES.” 
he jumps onto the couch like you just proposed. nearly knocks over a lamp. his shirt flies off somehow. there’s confetti? no one knows where it came from. 
this man starts training. like, literally. he builds a fake aisle out of cardboard in the living room and practices walking you down it with a random bouquet of plastic forks. 
“you think i can backflip down the aisle while holding your arm?” 
“NO.” 
“… what if i do it real slow?” 
at your dress fitting, he gasps so dramatically the stylist flinches. 
“OH MY GOSH. YOU LOOK LIKE A PRINCESS WHO FIGHTS DRAGONS AND HEALS HEARTS AND *sniff* CAN STILL KICK MY ASS.” 
he cries into your veil. full on, snot-bubble sobs. 
on the actual wedding day, he has to stuff tissues in his sleeves because he knows he’s gonna leak from the eyes and nose. halfway down the aisle he starts whispering nonsense like, “okay don’t trip don’t cry don’t scream don’t do a handstand–” 
you elbow him. 
“right. serious. majestic. i got this.” 
immediately trips over your veil. 
isagi yoichi
when you ask him, he blinks like he’s buffering. “walk you down the aisle? me?” 
he goes quiet, then smiles. softly. that warm, older-brother grin. “i’d be honored.” 
but two hours later you catch him staring at your baby pictures on the couch with glassy eyes. he tries to act normal. 
“i’m not crying. i’m just… remembering. shut up.” 
this man treats your wedding like the world cup final. printed checklists. a backup boutonniere. mints in his pocket. he even puts deodorant on his ankles “just in case.” 
at your rehearsal, he holds your arm like it’s a sacred relic. guides you like a knight escorting royalty. whispers, “you’re so grown up now… don’t fall for any tricks. if he breaks your heart, i’ll break his knee.” 
you laugh. he’s dead serious. 
on the big day, he takes one look at you in your dress and just goes, “whoa.” and then his eyes water. but he doesn’t cry. no. he clenches his jaw like a soldier. 
his walk is steady, but his hand is squeezing yours like he’s sending morse code for “i love you forever.” 
itoshi rin
you ask, “rin, will you walk me down the aisle?” 
“… why?” 
“because you’re my brother, dummy. and i want you.” 
he stares. then turns around and mutters, “… fine.” 
you don’t hear a peep from him for days. you assume he doesn’t care. then you accidentally walk into his room and catch him… researching proper aisle etiquette on youtube. 
he slams the laptop shut like you caught him watching something else. “get out.” 
“… were you practicing your posture?” 
“GET OUT.” 
on the big day, he’s silent. tense. eyes sharp. suit crisp. he sees you in your dress and his whole face cracks. 
his lips twitch. his eyes look glassy. but he holds it in. barely. 
as he links arms with you, you hear him breathe, “you look really pretty.” 
you glance at him. 
“… shut up.” 
he’s definitely crying on the inside. 100%. 
before he hands you off, he looks the groom straight in the eye. 
“don’t hurt her. ever.” 
that’s not a threat. that’s a promise with consequences. 
itoshi sae
you go, “sae, will you walk me down the aisle?” 
he stares at you like you just asked him to do your taxes in a clown suit. “… why would i do that?” 
you pout. “because i want you to.” 
he shrugs. “i guess.” 
but then you hear him cancel a madrid training session the next week. he shows up to fittings. he critiques your groom like a stoic wine connoisseur. 
“his handshake is weak. is that really who you want?” 
“sae.” 
“… fine. 6.5 out of 10.” 
he’s the calmest one on the day of, until you put on your dress. then he blinks a little too slowly. clears his throat five times. 
“… you look alright.” 
“that’s it?” 
he glances at you again. “… you look better than alright. now stop looking at me like that.” 
(he totally cried in the car on the way home. never admits it.) 
nagi seishiro
you ask him and he just mumbles, “ugh, sounds like a hassle.” 
but then you add, “there’ll be snacks at the reception.” 
“what time’s the wedding again?” 
he tries to convince you to be carried down the aisle like a princess so he doesn’t have to walk. 
“what if i just teleport you?” 
“this isn’t an anime, seishiro.” 
“unfortunate.” 
he forgets he’s supposed to wear a suit and shows up in pajamas until reo throws a bowtie at his face. 
when he sees you all dressed up, he blinks. “… you’re sparkly.” 
he doesn’t cry. but he does hand you a gummy bear from his pocket and goes, “for strength.” 
(you still have it in your purse.) 
kaiser michael
“you want ME? the MICHAEL KAISER? to escort you down the aisle?” 
he flips imaginary hair. “obviously. i’ll have to outshine the bride a little, but i’ll try to tone it down.” 
you threaten to replace him with ness. he shuts up. 
he insists on glitter. refuses to walk to “boring music.” tries to choreograph a slow-motion runway strut. 
on the actual day, he’s the only one who bows to the guests and says “your majesty has arrived.” 
but when he sees you? he gets real quiet. 
“… you look beautiful, little star.” he means it. he really does. 
but then he adds, “thank goodness i moisturized today. otherwise i’d be crying and flaky.” 
karasu tabito
“me? walk you down the aisle? damn right i will. who else is gonna make sure this idiot doesn’t drop the ring?” 
he says it with a grin, but when he sees you in your dress he shuts up. fully stunned. 
“… shit.” 
“what?” 
“you’re really getting married, huh.” 
he pauses. 
“… don’t cry, you little gremlin.” 
he’s the one crying. quietly. behind his sunglasses. 
before he walks you down, he pops a mint in his mouth and goes, “you ready?” you nod. 
“cool. i’m gonna make a stupid face to ruin all the photos.” 
“don’t you da–” 
too late. 
© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢
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paucubarsisimp · 1 month ago
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Hey girl! Could you write for the barca boys and reader after the copa del rey final? It's okay if not! Thanks girly! Love your work (and you ofc) 🫶🏻🫶🏻
☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★
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copa del rey
pairings: pablo gavi x reader,, pedri x reader ferran torres x reader, pau cubarsi x reader, hector fort x reader, alejandro balde x reader, lamine yamal x reader, marc bernal x reader
summary: in which you celebrate barca's win with your boyfriend
warnings: none!
a/n: i hope you like it angel <333
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୨ৎ pablo gavi
the second the final whistle blew, pablo didn’t think—he just ran.
he barely heard the stadium erupt, barely saw the confetti raining down. all he knew was that they’d done it. they’d actually won the copa del rey. and somewhere in the chaos, you were watching.
his boots hit the sideline hard as he shoved past a camera, didn’t even bother looking for someone to wave to. all he cared about was you.
and when he saw you, standing just behind the barrier with wide eyes and a hand over your mouth, he nearly knocked someone over climbing toward you.
“you—” he started, breathless, and then he just grabbed you.
his arms wrapped around you so tight it was like he was trying to pull you into him, and you gasped a little, laughing as he buried his face in your neck.
“we fucking did it,” he muttered, voice shaking with adrenaline, lips brushing your skin.
“you did it,” you whispered back, hands fisting in the back of his jersey. “you were insane out there.”
he pulled back just enough to look at you, chest rising and falling fast. then suddenly he was kissing you—hard, hungry, like he hadn’t seen you in weeks, like the win didn’t mean a thing without this part.
you barely had time to breathe before he kissed you again, hands in your hair, body pressed flush against yours.
“i swear to god,” he said between kisses, “i was on that pitch thinking about you the whole fucking time.”
“pablo—” you started, but he cut you off with another kiss, messier this time.
“no, listen,” he insisted, forehead pressed to yours, voice low. “you’re it. not the trophy. not the crowd. just you.”
he kissed you again—short, sharp, like a full stop—then wrapped his arms around you again and lifted you off the ground.
“you’re insane,” you whispered, grinning.
“you love it,” he shot back, smirking.
you did.
especially when he growled in your ear, “come home with me. i want you in my hoodie, in my bed, like now.”
you didn’t even answer. you just kissed him like he’d kissed you—aggressive, all teeth and love and pride.
because yeah. he won a trophy.
but tonight? you were what he’d come running for.
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦.  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺ .✦
୨ৎ pedri
the moment the final whistle blew, everything felt like a dream. barcelona had won. 3–2. your heart was still racing, but all your thoughts were tangled up in one person—pedri.
you barely noticed the noise, the fireworks, the celebration. your eyes were only on him. his jersey was damp with sweat, hair messy from the match, and a smile on his face that could melt the sun. he looked around the pitch until his eyes found yours—and just like that, the world went quiet.
he jogged toward you, cheeks flushed pink, and opened his arms without a word. you were in them a second later, burying your face into his chest, breathing him in like you were trying to slow time.
“you did it,” you whispered, clutching the back of his jersey.
he laughed softly, breathless. “i scored one goal and almost lost my mind when it went in.”
you pulled back just enough to see his face. “it wasn’t just any goal, pedri. it was beautiful. it was perfect.”
he shrugged shyly, eyes flicking down to your lips. “it was for you. i saw you in the stands just before i hit it. figured if i was gonna score in a final… it had to be something special.”
your chest ached in the best way. “you’re so stupidly sweet, i don’t even know what to do with you.”
“you keep loving me, maybe?” he teased, his voice soft and warm.
you stood on your toes to kiss him, slow and sweet. the kind of kiss that tasted like relief, pride, and something close to forever. when you pulled away, you rested your forehead against his.
“this is the happiest i’ve ever been,” you whispered.
“me too,” he said, squeezing your waist. “i know the trophy’s nice and all, but this right here? you in my arms? this is the real win.”
you let out a tiny laugh, leaning into his touch. “god, you’re going to make me cry.”
“then i’m doing it right.”
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦.  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺ .✦
୨ৎ ferran torres
the locker room was loud—music blasting, champagne spraying, laughter echoing off the walls. jerseys were half-on, socks forgotten, and medals already tangled in the chaos. but ferran looked like he belonged in all of it. like joy was made for him.
you stood by the doorway for a moment, just watching.
he caught sight of you through the blur of bodies, and his entire face lit up. sweaty, flushed, grinning from ear to ear—he crossed the room in a few long strides and pulled you into his arms without a word.
“you smell like celebration,” you teased into his neck.
he laughed, not letting go. “i smell like victory.”
“same thing tonight.”
he pulled back just enough to press a quick, smiling kiss to your lips before a teammate shoved a beer into his hand and dragged him back into the circle of dancing. you stayed close, leaning against the wall, watching him sway and shout along to the songs with the others—an arm always reaching back to find you when he could.
he looked over his shoulder mid-chorus and mouthed, i love you.
you mouthed it back, warmth blooming in your chest.
at one point, gavi wrapped an arm around you both and yelled, “can you believe this guy?” like ferran wasn’t grinning ear to ear and glowing under the locker room lights. you just nodded and said, “yeah. i really can.”
you ended up on the floor beside him, backs against a bench, sharing a half-eaten box of pizza someone brought in. the trophy was only a few feet away, sitting crooked on a pile of towels.
“do you ever get used to this?” you asked softly, resting your head on his shoulder.
“the winning?” he shrugged. “maybe. but not this part. you being here. that never gets old.”
you smiled against his hoodie. “even when i steal your pizza?”
“especially then.”
you didn’t need a perfect moment. this mess of laughter, grease-stained medals, and your legs tangled with his on a locker room floor was more than enough.
he turned to you, voice quieter now. “you’re my favorite part of all this, you know?”
you just nodded, because honestly? he was yours too
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦.  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺ .✦
୨ৎ pau cubarsi
the locker room was a blur—shouting, singing, shirts being thrown, someone trying to use the trophy as a drum. but pau wasn’t in the middle of it. he was off to the side, still in his boots, sitting on a bench with flushed cheeks and his medal resting quietly on his chest.
you found him there, a small, tired smile pulling at his lips. he looked up when he saw you, eyes soft, like they always were with you.
“hola,” he said gently, voice barely rising above the chaos around him.
you knelt in front of him, hands resting on his knees. “hola, campeón.”
pau let out a quiet laugh, dipping his head. “no digas eso…”
“why not?” you smiled. “you were amazing.”
he shrugged a little, cheeks warming. “i just did my job.”
“no, amor. you played with heart. you played like you were born for nights like this.”
he looked at you for a long second, then took your hands in his, thumbs brushing over your knuckles. “it felt… right. everything. the way we played. the way we didn’t give up. and knowing you were here… watching…”
“always,” you whispered. “always watching you. always proud.”
he leaned forward, pressing his forehead against yours, his voice low and honest. “i kept thinking… if we win, i get to share this with you. and that made it all feel even more real.”
you reached up, fingers brushing over the curve of his jaw. “we’re gonna remember this night forever.”
pau smiled softly. “sí. but not because of the trophy.”
“because of what?”
“because of you,” he said simply.
you kissed him then, slow and sweet, and when you pulled back, he was still holding your hands like he never wanted to let go.
someone shouted his name across the room, and a sweaty teammate tossed him a beer with terrible aim. pau caught it, just barely, and turned back to you with a sheepish grin.
“ven,” he said, tugging you up gently. “celebra conmigo.”
and so you did—dancing a little, laughing with the team, fingers laced with his all night long.
and in the middle of the wild celebration, you stayed wrapped in something quiet, something unshakable.
his hands, his smile, his love.
just like him—soft. strong. and yours.
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦.  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺ .✦
୨ৎ hector fort
the moment you stepped into the locker room, you were hit with music, sweat, laughter, and the smell of victory. someone had already popped champagne, jerseys were half-off, and there, right in the middle of it all — was hector.
he was dancing like nobody was watching. loose limbs, big grin, surrounded by teammates who were just as chaotic. someone handed him a flag and he spun around, arms in the air, looking like the happiest person in the world.
and then he saw you.
“mi amor!” he shouted over the music, dropping the flag and jogging toward you. before you could say anything, he wrapped you up in his arms, spinning you around in a half-dizzy circle that made both of you laugh.
“you’re actually crazy,” you said, breathless.
“crazy in love,” he joked, forehead against yours, still grinning like a kid on his birthday. “did you see us? we did it.”
“i saw,” you whispered, brushing back his damp curls. “you were brilliant. and very, very sweaty.”
“don’t pretend you don’t love it,” he teased, pressing a fast, celebratory kiss to your cheek.
you stayed in his arms while the room moved around you — more singing, more drinks, someone trying to pour water on kounde from the top of a bench. hector held your hand and pulled you back into the center.
“come dance with me,” he said.
“i don’t know these moves,” you laughed, but he was already spinning you.
“doesn’t matter. just be here with me.”
and so you danced — badly, joyfully — with your champion. every now and then, he’d shout something to a teammate, then come right back to you, tugging you close like you were the prize he was really proud of.
later, when the locker room calmed and his voice was nearly gone from shouting, he wrapped his hoodie around your shoulders and kissed you like no one else existed.
“thank you for being part of this,” he whispered.
you smiled. “you make it easy to love every second.”
and in a night full of flashing lights and loud celebration, the way he held your hand was the part you’d remember forever.
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦.  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺ .✦
୨ৎ alejandro balde
the moment the final whistle blew, everything exploded. the stadium was a blur of blue and garnet, fans screaming, confetti raining down. but in the midst of the madness, you spotted him — alejandro, already grinning like a kid on christmas.
he was dancing with a few of the guys, completely lost in the moment, the joy of victory contagious. you couldn’t help but laugh at how carefree he was, his body moving to the beat of a song that was barely even in tune. his energy was pure, a beautiful chaos that made it impossible not to smile.
when he finally saw you, he broke away from the crowd, arms wide open. “¡mi amor!” he shouted, laughing as he scooped you up into a tight hug, spinning you around like the whole stadium wasn’t watching.
“you’re insane,” you giggled, breathless from the spinning.
“i’m in love,” he teased, pulling you even closer, his grin wide enough to light up the whole locker room. “we won! we actually won!”
you laughed, shaking your head. “i see that. i’m starting to think you enjoy this more than the match.”
“that’s because i’ve been dreaming about this moment,” he said, his tone playful yet sincere. “winning, yes. but having you here to share it with me — that’s the real victory.”
he kissed you quickly, in the middle of the locker room frenzy, not caring who was around. when he pulled back, you couldn’t help but smile at the way his eyes sparkled, the excitement still dancing in them.
“okay, okay, i need you to dance with me now,” alejandro said, his hand grabbing yours as he dragged you into the center of the locker room.
“wait, what?” you laughed, trying to keep up with his pace.
“it’s not a celebration without a little chaos,” he winked, twirling you under his arm.
you were laughing, stumbling slightly as he twirled you again, his energy infecting you like a fire. every teammate had gathered around now, and it felt like you were in the middle of the most joyful, spontaneous moment of your life.
when the music finally slowed and the crowd thinned out, alejandro pulled you close again, a quieter, softer smile on his face.
“thanks for being with me, cariño,” he murmured, resting his forehead against yours.
“always,” you whispered, your heart full of happiness.
and in that wild, unfiltered celebration, you realized that this was exactly what you wanted — him, his joy, and his love.
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦.  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺ .✦
୨ৎ lamine yamal
the locker room was bursting with excitement — music, cheers, teammates shouting, and a constant buzz of energy. but in the middle of all that, lamine stood out in the most endearing way: wide-eyed, cheeks flushed with excitement, and a huge grin spread across his face.
he was a ball of energy, dancing and jumping around with his teammates like a kid in a candy store. yet, when he saw you, his whole face lit up, and without hesitation, he rushed over to you.
“you saw that, right?” he asked, bouncing on his feet, still vibrating with excitement.
“i saw,” you laughed, watching him with affection. “you were amazing out there.”
lamine’s grin only grew bigger as he pulled you into a tight hug, lifting you off the ground for a moment in the purest, most joyful embrace.
“we did it!” he exclaimed, his voice full of awe. “we won the copa del rey!”
you chuckled at his enthusiasm. “yeah, we did. and you were incredible out there.”
he pulled back slightly, but his arms stayed around you, his hands resting gently on your back. “i kept thinking about how i wanted to share this with you,” he said, his voice quieter, a little more sincere. “i wanted to make you proud.”
“you already did,” you whispered, ruffling his hair. “you make me proud every day.”
his face softened at your words, his hands slipping down to hold yours. “can we stay here a little longer? just the two of us?” he asked, eyes shining like he was asking for a secret moment amidst all the chaos.
“of course,” you smiled, squeezing his hands. “let’s enjoy the moment.”
the locker room continued to swirl around you, but in that little corner, it felt just like the two of you, wrapped in the quiet joy of the win. lamine kept glancing over at you, his eyes full of affection, and every time you met his gaze, his smile seemed to grow even brighter.
“this is the best day,” he said, his voice full of happiness as he pulled you into a small, spontaneous dance.
“it’s a pretty good day,” you agreed, laughing as he twirled you around.
and in that moment, surrounded by the noise and the celebration, it was clear: you and lamine were creating a memory that would last forever, just the two of you, with your hearts full of joy.
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦.  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺ .✦
୨ৎ marc bernal
the locker room was alive with celebration — teammates were dancing, laughing, and singing as they reveled in the copa del rey victory. the sound of popping champagne and joyous shouts filled the air, but in the midst of it all, marc stood with a calm but content smile, his crutches leaning against the wall beside him. he hadn’t played, but you could see the pride in his eyes.
he had been injured and sidelined, but none of that mattered now. he was part of the victory, part of the team, his heart bursting with pride for his friends who had fought so hard to bring home the trophy.
you walked over to him, your heart swelling as you met his gaze. despite not being on the pitch, his joy was palpable. as soon as he saw you, that soft, warm smile grew even wider.
“we did it, huh?” marc said, his voice full of that same warmth that always made you feel at home.
“we did,” you agreed, stepping closer. “and you were just as much a part of this win as anyone else.”
he shook his head, still smiling, but his eyes held a touch of vulnerability. “i didn’t play. i didn’t contribute like the others.”
“marc,” you gently cupped his cheek, “you’ve been a part of this team in every way. your spirit, your energy — it’s felt. you are a huge part of this win.”
his expression softened, and he reached out, pulling you into a tight hug. “thank you for saying that,” he murmured into your hair, his voice thick with emotion. “i just wanted to be out there with them. but… being here with you, knowing they won for us — it’s enough.”
you squeezed him back, resting your head against his shoulder. “it’s more than enough, marc. i’m so proud of you.”
he pulled back slightly, still holding you close. “i know i’m not the one out there celebrating on the field, but this… being here with you, sharing this moment with you — this is everything.”
you smiled, brushing a strand of hair from his face. “we’ll celebrate it our way. together.”
marc smiled softly, his eyes lighting up with gratitude. “sounds perfect to me.”
and just like that, in the midst of the chaos, you both shared a quiet, perfect moment. no need for grand gestures or loud celebrations — just marc, you, and the soft joy of knowing that victory had been shared in a way that felt right to both of you.
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taglist: @barcapix, @universefcb, @nngkay, @joaosnovia, @ilovebarcaaaa, @levidazai, @hollyf1,@mxryxmfooty, @halfwayhearted lmk if you want to be added!
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urlocalmultigroupfan · 7 days ago
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ɪᴛꜱ ɴɪᴄᴇ ᴛᴏ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅ ⋆✴︎˚。⋆ (방찬)
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pairing: christopher bahng x fem!reader, strangers to friends to lovers
summary: based off of its nice to have a friend by taylor swift
tags/warnings: chris is literally feeding a squirrel at the beginning, hes extroverted, reader is introverted, not proofread,
a/n: guys wait i kinda liked that i put the squirrel thing in lmao (this is a scheduled post.)
pt 1 pt 2 pt 3 bonus!
masterlist!
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The first time you see him, he’s standing in the snow, feeding a squirrel.
No, really.
You blink from the bench near the science building, clutching your tea between your gloves, and squint to make sure you’re seeing this right. There’s a boy, maybe a little older than you, with messy curls poking out from under a gray beanie, crouching in the middle of a patch of half-melted snow, holding out something in his palm.
The squirrel is suspicious. The boy is not.
“C’mon, buddy,” he whispers, like it’s a secret. “I’m just trying to make your day better.”
You watch him for a second longer than you probably should.
You’re not usually one to stare at people, but he’s…strangely magnetic. Like a lit window on a rainy street. Warm, inviting.
He doesn’t even notice you, he's so fully committed to this squirrel.
When the little creature finally darts forward and snatches whatever was in his hand, he grins so big that it lights up his whole face.
You look away before he sees you.
You see him again two days later. Different spot, same beanie.
You’re coming out of the library, arms full of books you probably won’t finish before the due date. He’s sitting on the low stone wall near the fountain, reading lyrics from his phone, quietly mumbling them under his breath. He taps a pencil against his knee like it’s a drum pad.
He hums a melody. Something soft, but unfinished.
This time he looks up and catches your eye, just briefly.
You glance down.
Then—
“Hey!”
You freeze and turn halfway, unsure if it’s you he’s calling out to.
He’s smiling.
“I saw you on the bench the other day, right? Near the science building?”
Your heart does a little hiccup in your chest.
You nod slowly. “…Yeah.”
“I thought so!” He hops off the wall, brushing his hands on his jeans. “I was hoping I didn’t imagine that. Hi.” He grins, sticking out a hand like you’re old friends meeting again.
“I’m Chris.”
You stare at his hand for a second, then awkwardly adjust your books and reach out.
“y/n.”
Your fingers brush his. He shakes your hand like it’s a genuine honor to meet you.
“I like your scarf,” he says brightly. “Looks warm.”
You blink. “Thanks. It is.”
He laughs, not unkindly. “Nice. That’s a great quality in a scarf.”
You feel the corner of your mouth twitch, almost-smiling. He’s strange, but in a nice way.
Like early spring sun on icy pavement.
He doesn't keep you. Just waves.
“See you around, y/n”
You nod, still a little stunned. “Bye Chris.”
He’s everywhere after that.
You’re not sure if you’re just noticing him more or if the universe is playing matchmaker, but suddenly it’s like he’s stitched into the background of your days.
He holds the door for you at the coffee shop and grins like it’s fate.
He passes you on the quad and shouts “y/n!” like you’ve known each other for years, not seconds. It turns heads. You nearly trip.
One afternoon, he appears next to you in line at the campus bookstore, arms full of snacks and a single pencil.
“Emergency brain food,” he explains. “And I always lose pencils. Might as well keep the tradition going.”
You huff a quiet laugh, not looking up.
He notices anyway. “A smile! I win.”
You roll your eyes, but there’s no bite in it.
It becomes a rhythm.
You don’t mean for it to, but it does.
Somehow, Chan always finds you on the quieter days. When the sky is gray and your headphones are in, or when your lunch is a little too lonely, or when you’re halfway through a library session and your eyes are going fuzzy from reading.
He shows up with a half-crushed granola bar, a “fun fact” he found online, a shy joke and a big grin and an energy that’s too big to contain but still never drowns you out.
He’s different from anyone you’ve known.
You’re used to people trying to draw you out like pulling teeth. But Chan doesn’t pull anything from you. He offers stories, laughter, warmth, and lets you take what you want.
And for some reason, you keep reaching.
One Thursday, you’re sitting at your usual spot near the music building and he finds you without hesitation.
“Thought you might be here,” he says, settling beside you. “You’re kind of a creature of habit, huh?”
You shrug.
“I like that,” he adds quickly. “It’s comforting.”
You sip your drink. The air smells like thawing snow and blooming things.
He stretches out on the bench, arms crossed behind his head. His foot bumps yours accidentally-on-purpose. You don’t move it.
“You ever feel like people talk too much?” you ask suddenly, surprising yourself more than him.
Chan turns his head toward you. Doesn’t laugh. Doesn’t tease.
“All the time,” he says, softer than usual.
You glance at him. He’s watching the clouds.
“Sometimes I talk a lot when I’m nervous,” he admits. “But quiet’s good too. Especially when it’s the right kind.”
Your heart warms. You don’t answer, but your shoulder leans just a little closer.
That same week, he shows up with a guitar.
It’s old, a little scuffed. He carries it like it’s precious.
“Wanna hear something?”
You nod.
He plays something gentle. Not polished, just a melody he’s been working on.
“It’s not finished,” he says after. “But it feels like a beginning.”
You don’t say much.
You just sit there, knees touching, the song lingering in the air between you like steam off a mug.
One night, you catch yourself writing his name in the margin of your notebook.
Just once, to see how it looks.
You close the page quickly, like you’re keeping a secret.
You think maybe you are.
Spring is blooming by the time he walks you home for the first time.
It’s accidental. He’d stayed late at the library too. You both left at the same time, and it made sense.
Until you’re walking beside him in the evening hush, and it doesn’t feel like coincidence at all.
“Want to see something?” he asks suddenly, tugging your sleeve.
You follow him through a winding path behind the dorms and he stops at a low fence, then points up.
Cherry blossoms-- white-pink and glowing in the moonlight.
You both stand there for a long moment.
“Pretty,” you whisper.
“Yeah,” he says, not looking at the tree.
He’s looking at you.
You don’t look back. But you feel it. You feel everything.
He walks you the rest of the way in silence, your steps soft on the pavement.
At your front door, he pauses.
“This was nice,” he says.
You nod. “It was.”
He takes a breath, shifts his weight like he wants to say something more.
But instead, he just smiles.
“See you tomorrow, y/n.”
You smile back.
“See you, Chris.”
That night, you press your hand to your chest and feel your heartbeat like a drumroll.
You don’t really know him.
Not yet.
But he’s made your world feel a little brighter, lighter.
And something about that feels like a beginning.
Like maybe... just maybe... it’s nice to have a stranger.
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hope you enjoyed <33
todays playlist...
youth by lee know, hurt by newjeans, chill by stray kids, killer queen by mad tsai, juice by lizzo, circles by post malone, smart by le sserafim, suburban legends by taylor swift, python by got7, airplane by stray kids, slide by calvin harris, frank ocean, the migos, flamin hot lemon by jaehyun, humble by kendrick lamar, brought the heat back by enhypen, congratulations by mac miller and bilal, sweet dreams by j-hope, no doubt by enhypen
*bold is explicit*
@rockstarkkami @sirloncelot-of-bananas @jisunggy @me-on-a-archive @hyunjiiza @highway-143 @hvseunq143 @hyuneskkami
taglist is open! please comment if you would like to be added <3
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specshroom · 1 year ago
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•The Queen of Curses•
Part 1 / Part 2
(CW: It's smut bro. Sukuna has two dicks, pp in vagina, pp in ass, They fuck in the curse blood bath, cunnilingus, fingering, cervix fucking? Idk. )
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The Queen of Curses tries her best to be as nonchalant as possible as she's being escorted to the curse blood bath meant to reguvinate her body to it's full strength. Anybody would struggle to stay nonchalant if they could feel the gaze of the King of Curses trained on their body. She's surprised he can't smell the need flowing off her from where he walks, a few feet behind her. Uraume definitely can with the way the woman's perked nipple presses into the sorcerer's arm and the way her flushed skin radiates heat. 
As they reach their destination a few steps above the giant pool, the woman turns to her husband and bows dramatically.
"Please you first, My king" she says with a grin.
Sukuna scoffs at his wife's antics, crossing two arms over his chest as the other two go to undo the string keeping his baggy white pants up. The article drops to the floor and his wife isn't bashful about taking in all her husband has to offer as he walks past her into the huge pool of dark liquid. 
She looks to her subordinate who is already kneeling on the ground folding up Sukuna's forgotten pants. Taking the opportunity she steps towards them and says. 
"Uraume, would you mind helping me undress?"
Uraume stands up without a word. When they stand to full height their head only comes up to their masters cleavage, something that was always very amusing to the woman. 
Uraume's delicate fingers go to the knot tying their masters kimono around her body. They gently loosen the knot until it unwraps and the loosened clothing exposes her whole front to them. Uraume isn't surprised at all by the fact that their master isn't wearing anything under her kimono. 
"AY, hurry it up!"
Sukuna yells from where he sits in the waist high blood. The woman clicks her tongue and rolls her eyes. 
"So impatient."
she scoffs to Uraume before shrugging the kimono off her shoulders till it falls to the ground. She walks down the steps towards the pool as Uraume kneels again to fold the long silky piece of fabric. They know that neither of their masters will need their garments any time soon. 
Sukuna stands up as his wife steps into the pool, dark droplets falling from his sculpted frame. Where Uraume only makes it up to their masters breasts, she barely makes it to Sukuna's shoulders.
She looks up at him through her lashes as she gets closer, so close her tits graze against his crossed arms. 
She slowly reaches out to caress the skin of her lover, following the inked lines up his waist. She keeps following the dark lines until she gets to the pair of crossed arms, encourage them to uncross and bringing them to her waist. Sukuna starts rubbing his fingers into her lower back just the way she likes. She traces the black patterns higher up his chest, along his neck until she cups both sides of his face. 
She delicately runs her fingers against the deformed side of his face, caressing the massive beast as if he's made of porcelain. He grasps the wrist of the hand that so gently touches him, holding it still as he leans into her palm. The two hands on her waist pull her body closer, he closes his eyes and breaths her in. 
"why so soft all of a sudden?" 
he mumbles against her tattooed wrist, it didn't sound as teasing as he wanted it to. 
She smiles at him. 
"Because I'm your wife."
 She says lowly, half lidded eyes staring into his soul... If he has one. The curse king stares back with just as much reverence, they move closer until their noses are touching, breaths mixing. 
She suddenly pushes him away hard enough to make him lose balance and fall ass first into the thigh deep blood they're standing in. When his head resurfaces he sees his wife doubled over laughing, clutching her stomach.
The man growls in anger. Why must the woman he loves be so irritating? 
"Hahahaha! Uraume did you see tha- ah!"
Sukuna grabs his wife while she's gloating, pulling her closer to him by her thighs. One hand on the upper thigh, one on her ass, one on the other knee, pulling it over his shoulder and the last one around her ankle holding her in place. Finally his face is exactly where he's wanted it to be for a thousand years now, just a few inches away from her warm cunt.
He looks up at her with four angry eyes.
"You play around too much, woman."
She looks down at him from between her breasts which move up and down with her short breaths. Having him so close to where she needs him the most is making something in her stomach heat up.
"You think I can't tell how much you want me right now? You think I don't know you crave me just as much as I crave you?" 
She grabs at his hair and shuffles in his hold. She can feel his breaths on her cunt, her need is overwhelming. She tries pushing his head to finally make contact with her needy pussy but he doesn't budge, grinning up at her while he nuzzles the side of his face into the flesh of her thigh. 
"Mhm. I can be a tease too, baby."
She lets out an irritated huff. 
"Ryo, if you don't eat me out right now I swear-"
She pauses, not knowing what to say while her husband looks at her with a shit eating grin, cocking his eyebrows up for her to continue. 
"I won't suck either of your dicks."
She says with finality as if she didn't just come up with that on the spot. She crosses her arms over her tits, all proud of herself.
Sukuna chuckles, she can feel the breathy laugh on her cunt. She involuntarily clenches around nothing and her posture hunches a little.
"Well damn baby, that's all you had to say."
 He says before finally. Finally. diving his head in between her plush thighs. Licking one big stripe up her cunt to her clit before settling on a rhythm of eager lapping and sucking. The pleasure is instant as she hunches over and curls her fingers in his short fluffy hair.
The groan she lets out is so gutteral it makes him moan into her pussy. Safe to say, even after so many years he hasn't lost his touch. He keeps going at it as she grinds back into his mouth. The hard malformed part of his face scrapes against her thigh but she's always liked it. It reminded her exactly who was making her feel so good. 
"Ahh, Ryo" She groans into the night air as her husband holds up her whole body without any struggle, getting perfect full access so he can get his tongue as deep inside her as possible. She places a foot on his shoulder granting him even easier access, hands still tugging his hair.
He squeezes her ass and gropes at her thigh pulling her impossibly closer like he can never get enough of her. By the higher pitched noises she's making and the way her thighs tense up around his head, he can tell she's already on the edge of orgasm, about to reach her peak. 
He suddenly unlatches her legs from his shoulders and reaches up, grabbing her by the neck to pull her down into a harsh kiss. Her entire body gets pulled down so that she's straddling him now, blood coming up to just under her breasts. She struggles in the kiss, kicking at him and reeling from her ruined orgasm while Sukuna grins into the kiss.
She bites at his lips and he just kisses back with equal intensity. When her animalistic growls give way to a pitiful whine, he releases her from the kiss. Her nails dig into the wrist of the hand still around her throat. Drawing blood that drips down and mixes with the blood of hunreds of other curses. 
"You fucking bastard." 
She snarls at her supposed lover. He chuckles menacingly at her, very much enjoying the rageful passion she spits at him. That part of her is what made him fall in love with her in the first place after all. 
"Aww, poor baby."
Sukuna coos in the most patronising manner possible. The look of absolute rage on his wife's face makes him surprised the blood around them isn't at boiling point. She thrashes around in his grip, grunting, pushing, splashing, fighting against her horrible husband's hold. Sukuna just holds onto her tighter, never holding up, like she's his life force and if he lets go he'll die. 
She yells out in frustration and anger which is when Sukuna thinks it's the perfect time for the fat toungue of the mouth on his stomach to lick a hard long strip up her whole pussy. She instantly stills as her breath hitches. 
Sukuna brings his hand to her jaw making her look him in the eyes again as he thrusts the large tongue into her. The stretch makes her hiss and tense up. The initial sting quickly grows into euphoria, the feeling of the huge tongue moving against her walls is a pleasure that is indescribable. 
As her moans get louder and her eyes roll back, she almost loses herself again in the feeling but quickly shakes her head and looks at her husband with an intense glare. 
"You better make me cum this time, Ryo" 
She says in a raspy voice, the man in question grins as if he's innocent and replies back. 
"Of course, anything for My Queen."
She groans, not appreciating his teasing at all. 
"I'm serious, I'll kill you. I'll kill you if you do that again-"
Her ernest death threats are rudely interrupted by Sukuna shoving two of his fingers in her mouth. The other hand holds her jaw up for better access. Her dark eyes still trained on his, fingers wrapped around his wrist. 
"I said I will." 
He says, the teasing tone replaced with something deep and honest like a promise to her. 
The Queen takes a moment to admire her devoted partner before she allows herself to lose her mind on his tongue. 
Sukuna slowly thrusts his two fingers into his wife's mouth, loving the way her tongue flattens out to lick his fingers as he thrusts. He brings his other hand that's not holding her down on his tongue to press gently into her unoccupied hole.
She groans at the new sensation of having her ass played with as Sukuna slowly moves to thrust a finger inside. He lowers the hand on her jaw to fondle and squeeze at her tits. 
The woman is in absolute euphoria, her eyes flutter shut as her tongue lols out, spit messing down Sukuna's wrist and her chin. So many different places being stimulated. So many areas of pleasure. It's so overwhelming, it's no wonder she's already almost there again. 
She opens her eyes to stare at her husband, they always liked looking into eachothers eyes when they cum. She only gets louder and needier as Sukuna uses multiple hands to dutifully work her up to her climax. Sukuna brings two hands to her hips and thrusts her down hard on his tongue right as he thrusts it up so deep into her. She uncontrollably clenches hard as she comes undone on his massive tongue, loving every second he gives her. 
Sukuna takes his fingers out of her mouth to kiss her sloppily as she rides out the high. It takes a while for her to come down but once she does she's wrapping her arms around her husbands neck, pushing her body as close to him as it can be while kissing his neck.
"I missed you."
she whispers in between the soft kisses. Sukuna feels his heart and dicks pulse.
"I noticed." 
He grins cockily, the expected response from a bastard like him. 
"Yeah? Well I missed them too."
She murmured against his lips, shuffling her leg so that it grazes the two hard shafts below her. The King grins at her and waists no time hauling her up, pressing her close to his chest. He walks towards the edge of the giant pool and rests her down on the edge.
She leans back on her hands, legs spread wide for him to stand in between them. She admires her husband's imposing frame as he admires how she openly flaunts her body to him. 
Sukuna then holds both her legs right under the knee and brings them to either side of her chest so that his pretty wife is bent in half for him. Said wife lightly moans at the position he's chosen, shes basically presenting her pussy to him. She lets out another louder moan when she feels his two heavy cocks graze against her wet puffy pussy. Sukuna brings his face close to hers so he can see her face clearly as he rubs his cocks up and down her cunt. 
"You ready?" 
He asks, knowing full well that she most definitely is with how slick her hole is. She nods looking into his eyes. 
"Put it in then"
He says lowly, it was meant to be an order but there's just a hint of a plead in there. She reaches down between them to line up his two cocks to their respective holes. She holds them there so that Sukuna can slowly tease them into each entrance. Once the mushroom heads pop in, they both weakly moan. She moves her hand to grab his waist to ease him forward, gradually burying his cocks deeper into her. Once he's halfway in she presses on his waist to make him still, letting herself adjust. 
"Cmon, ease up baby." He mumbles, caressing her hips, waist and thighs soothing her body so that she's not so tense. He gives her neck kisses and eventually she eases up enough, pulling him forward again by the waist. Both of his fat cocks bottom out and the two lovers are in absolute euphoria. Chest to chest, arms clutching around eachother. They sit there for a minute, foreheads touching so they can stare into eachothers eyes. Neither of them meant for this to be so sincere but they truly just missed eachother so damn much and it's overwhelming. 
Sukuna adjusts, getting in a better position where his knees are bent and his whole body is hunched over his wife's in a mating press like position. This gives him much better leverage to slowly pull out, indulging in his wife's cute whines before he slides a pair of hands around her lower back and slams right back into her. 
The hands under her back lift her hips up slightly and it's such a perfect angle, allowing him to go as deep as possible. Feeling every inch of him in both her holes is making her go crazy. They both are so loud when they fuck, the sounds of their moans and the fast plap plap plap of their skin echos through the otherwise silent atmosphere.
"Ah! Squeezing me so tight, you're already gonna cum? Fuck!"
Sukuna tries to sound cocky but miserably fails. She can't even respond, she's been lost in the pleasure since he started thrusting. His grip on her thighs and waist tighten as she tightens around both of his cocks, so close to release. He has no idea how he hasn't cum yet but he's getting so desperate humping into her almost like a dog. The clenching and shaking is too much for him, he's gonna- 
"Fill me up, Ryo."
She whispers to him, tired eyes still looking up at him. With that, he cums hard and fast, shooting strong ropes of cum into her pussy and ass. Her eyes squeeze shut as the feeling of being filled up so well in both holes roughly pushes her over the edge. It's a feeling she'll never get used to.
 It takes a while for her to come down from the high, her fingers ease the grip she had on his newly bruised skin. Sukuna is lazily sucking on her neck, licking at the sweaty skin. Hes laying all his weight ontop of her, good thing she isn't a mortal woman or she'd be crushed under his monster weight. She feels him soften inside her and grins, a devious plan cooking up in her evil brain. 
"Hmm, Ryo?"
"Hmmm"
His head doesn't leave the crook of her neck as she rubs his back. 
"Do you think I can still fit both of them in my pussy?"
He halts. She's built up enough energy to roll the tired man onto his back and sit up in a single quick motion, dicks still inside her. Feet planted on the floor on either side of his waist she places both hands on his chest for balance and lifts herself off his cocks, making them both groan at the loss. He only watches, enamored by the sheer amount of cum that drips from her holes onto his abs. 
She adjusts to balance on the front part of her feet, spreading her legs wide as she manoeuvres her pussy over his two spent cocks. She takes both of them in hand, looking at his face to watch his reactions to her touch on his sensitive members. His eyebrows scrunch but he doesn't waver, lifting himself slightly on two elbows. She holds her pussy open with two fingers and brings herself down slowly, slightly taking in both heads. They both watch where the two heads disappear inside her dripping cunt. She stills and just when Sukuna opens his mouth to complain she quickly drops herself down, taking both cocks inside her in a rapid motion. Both of them let out something between a moan and a scream at the sudden stimulation of both Sukuna's thick cocks being forced so deeply inside such a tight space.
"Fucking crazy woman." 
He struggles out. The stretch feels so devine as she clenches and moans. Her head tilted up to the stars in the sky with a dreamy look on her face. She brings her hand to caress her tummy and grins when she feels it, the bump in her stomach right where his two cocks inside her are. She looks down at it which makes Sukuna look too and the man curses, tipping his head back, absolutely enamoured with his perfect wife. 
She pulls his hand from her hip to her stomach to hold it over the bulge there. They both moan at the feeling as she starts grinding back and forth in slow circles. 
"You got another one for me, Honey?"
She asks snarkily, as if she doesn't know how many rounds her husband is capable of, he just huffs and smirks. She raises herself up on her feet, until both dicks are juuust about to pop out and rams back down letting out a gutteral sound as they reach the deepest parts of her pussy. She continues with these hard long thrusts, moving her whole body up and down his lengths. Sukuna just let's his wife do her magic, occasionally clutching into her thighs and hips. Sukuna knows he'll never be allowed into heaven but the feeling of his two cocks rubbing up against one another inside his wife's pretty cunt is the closest thing to heaven he'll ever need. 
As she gets closer and moves faster the overstimulation starts getting to her and her full body thrusts get sloppier. Her body can't keep up with her need and she frantically tells her husband. 
"Ah, fuck me, Ryo please!"
Sukuna waists no time following his wife's orders and reaches under her legs to grab her waist with two hands. Her legs are pressed against her chest and he sits up before lifting her body up and pounding her even deeper than before. She clutches his biceps for some stability as she gets her cervix fucked by her insanely big husband.
 The position, the depth, the speed, the strength it's all too much for Sukuna as she clenches impossibly tighter. Before he can even register it, his balls clench and his dicks twitch until he's cumming hard for her. He hisses and lets out a long groan, pulling her close to him as he bottoms out so he can shoot his cum as deep inside her as possible. She can barely handle the amount of cum that gets pumped into her. Nothing in the world can compare to the feeling of being filled to the brim by her lover, its no time before she's cumming with him. Her pussy milking his two cocks for all they have. 
 They stay dead still like that for a solid minute until Sukuna falls onto his back bringing his wife with him, still clutching her tightly to his chest. They both breathe ragged breaths, bathing in the sweaty after glow.
"Wow." She chuckles in exhaustion lifting her head from where it rested on his chest to rest her hand on her chin and smile dazedly at him. He lazily grins back from the hard ground while his hands stroke up and down her thighs and back, one arm resting under his head. 
She slowly pushed herself up more with her hands on his chest before she gradually pulled his softened dicks out of her now fill cunt. She's surprised her belly didn't expand with all the cum inside her at this point. 
She stands up, feet on either side of her husband's waist. The copious amount of cum that leaks out of her is so lewd it would make a pornstar blush. He curls a hand around her ankle, his eyes not leaving the leaking pussy infront of him. She places her hands on her hips and puffs out her chest, standing there like some lewd naked superhero. She clears her throat to get his attention and his eyes flick up to her very smug face.
"I win." 
She says simply. His dazed grin falls comically fast.
"What?"
"I made you come first, both times we fucked."
She holds out her hand, presenting two fingers. Sukuna is dumbfounded to say the least. 
"What the fuck are you talking about? I made you cum first on my tongue."
He retorts, holding up one finger.
"Nuh uh, that doesn't count."
He's getting angry now and she knows it. He lifts himself up on his elbows.
"What the fuck do you mean it doesn't count?"
She stretches her arms above her head stepping over him to walk away.
"Doesn't count. Better luck next time, My Love" 
He grabs at her ankle.
"Hey! You promised me you'd suck my dick if I made you cum, remember?" 
She pretends to think for a second. 
"Huh, I did say that." 
she pauses before shrugging,
"Well, I'm hungry now. Uraumeee!" 
She dashes out of his grip but he anticipates it and stands up to grab her around the waist. 
"You will make good on your promise." He growls into her hair slightly grinding his bare cocks into her ass. 
She's unfazed as she turns in his hold and says sternly. 
"I know you know what it's like to not eat a single thing for ONE THOUSAND YEARS!"
Sukuna groans in exasperation, tipping his head up to the sky. 
"You got to eat plenty of innocents already! I've not had a single mortal and might I remind you who's fault all this was in the first-"
"You called master?“
Uraume suddenly appears bowing behind the woman, interrupting her tangent which Sukuna is relieved about. The woman turns with a gleeful look in her eyes.
"Uraume~ Darling, I'm starving."
"I've already prepared you both a few meals and clean clothing."
The Queen practically vibrates with happiness. She reaches out to bring the sorcerer into a sweaty hug.
"Oh Uraume, what would I do without you?"
Just like that the Queen of Curses is back to cooing over her favourite sorcerer, clinging onto them as they lead her to the meal they prepared.
Sukuna just stands there for a minute, contemplating his entire marriage to this point as he watches the two scale up the stares. He peers a bit lower to the absolutely drenched state of her thighs as his multiple loads leak from her filled pussy, walking just a little wobbly. He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. As much as he wants to complain and act like he hates it, he knows he's absolutely pussy whipped.
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diekleinesuesse · 4 months ago
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ATEEZ Members Overhear Their S/O Gushing About Them
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Hongjoong
Hongjoong had been in his studio all day, headphones on, fingers tapping rhythmically against the desk as he fine tuned a track. His back ached from sitting for so long, and he figured a short break was overdue. As he stepped into the hallway, he heard your voice coming from the living room. He wasn’t trying to eavesdrop, but something about the softness in your tone made him pause.
“No, you don’t understand,” you were saying, a laugh in your voice. “I love him so much, I think my heart might actually explode sometimes. He works so hard, and he’s so passionate about everything he does. I don’t know how he manages to take care of everyone around him and still have time to make me feel like the most special person in the world. Hongjoong is just… everything.”
Hongjoong felt his breath hitch. His face burned, a mix of shyness and overwhelming warmth flooding his chest. He took a step back, rubbing at his face with his hands, trying to suppress the giddy grin stretching his lips. When you finally hung up and turned around, he was leaning against the doorway, arms crossed but a soft, adoring smile on his face.
“So… I’m ‘everything’ huh?” he teased, eyes twinkling.
You gasped, clutching your phone to your chest. “How long have you been standing there?”
“Long enough to hear how madly in love with me you are,” he smirked, stepping forward to pull you into a hug. His voice softened, lips brushing against your temple. “Just so you know… I feel the exact same way.”
Seonghwa
Seonghwa had been tidying up the bedroom when he heard you in the next room, talking on the phone. At first, he wasn’t paying much attention—just the usual sounds of you chatting with your friend. But then, your words made him freeze mid-folding a sweater.
“He’s literally the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” you said, voice full of emotion. “He takes care of me so well, and I don’t just mean the little things like making sure I eat or bringing me a blanket when I fall asleep on the couch. It’s the way he looks at me, the way he always knows what to say when I’m feeling down. I swear, I’ve never felt more loved in my entire life.”
Seonghwa blinked, his heart squeezing in his chest. A slow, affectionate smile spread across his lips. He felt warmth blooming inside him, like a soft glow radiating through his entire body. He hadn’t realized how deeply his love had touched you, how much his little acts of care meant.
When you ended the call and walked into the bedroom, you nearly yelped when you found him just standing there, staring at you with starry eyes.
“Uh… Hwa?” you questioned, raising a brow.
“I love you,” he blurted, stepping forward to cup your cheeks. “So much. I didn’t know you felt that way about me.”
You laughed, leaning into his touch. “Of course, I do. Did you… overhear?”
He nodded, suddenly a bit shy. “I wasn’t trying to, but…”
You smiled, standing on your tiptoes to kiss him softly. “Good. Now you know.”
Yunho
Yunho had just come back from the gym, a towel slung around his neck as he grabbed a water bottle from the fridge. He was about to call out for you when he heard your voice from the other room.
“I swear, I don’t know how I got so lucky,” you gushed, sounding almost dreamy. “Yunho is the most amazing person I’ve ever met. He’s kind, he’s funny, and he always knows how to cheer me up. I could be having the worst day, and one hug from him makes everything better. And don’t even get me started on how ridiculously handsome he is.”
Yunho nearly choked on his water. He felt his ears turn red as he stood frozen in the kitchen, your words playing on a loop in his head. He always knew you loved him, but hearing you talk about him like that when you thought he wasn’t around? It made his heart swell to the point of bursting.
When you finally walked into the kitchen, you found him staring at you with the goofiest grin.
“What?” you asked, eyeing him suspiciously.
“You think I’m ridiculously handsome?” he teased, wiggling his eyebrows.
Your face turned bright red. “Wait… you… Yunho, did you eavesdrop on my call?!”
He laughed, wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug and lifting you off the ground. “I love you too,” he murmured against your hair, still grinning. “And for the record, I think you’re ridiculously beautiful.”
Yeosang
Yeosang had been playing a game with his headphones on, but when he heard your laughter from the other room, he instinctively lowered the volume. He liked hearing you happy.
“I swear, I don’t even know how to put it into words,” you were saying. “Yeosang is just… he’s my safe place. He might not always say a lot, but the way he loves me is so obvious. Every little thing he does is just filled with love, you know? He makes me feel like I’m the most important person in the world.”
Yeosang’s hand paused on his controller. His heart pounded, a rush of warmth spreading through him. He had always been a bit more reserved when it came to expressing his feelings, but you understood him so well.
He didn’t say anything when you came back into the room, just looked at you with soft, shining eyes before reaching out and pulling you onto his lap.
“Yeo?” you blinked in surprise.
“I’m glad you know how much I love you,” he murmured, nuzzling into your shoulder. “I don’t always say it, but… you’re my most important person too.”
You smiled, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “I know.”
San
San had been lying on the couch, scrolling through his phone when he heard your voice from the bedroom. He wasn’t really paying attention until he caught his name, and then suddenly, nothing else existed except your words.
“I don’t think I’ve ever loved someone this much before,” you admitted, your voice a little shy but full of warmth. “San is just… he’s the sweetest, most affectionate, most loving person I’ve ever met. I know he likes to act all tough sometimes, but he’s got the softest heart. He makes me feel safe. Like, I could be in the worst mood, and one hug from him fixes everything. He’s my home.”
San felt like his heart had just been shot with a thousand love arrows. His hands went to his chest instinctively, as if to physically hold in the overwhelming feeling bubbling up inside him. He always showered you with love, but to hear you talk about him like this? He had no idea you saw him that way.
Without thinking, he practically sprinted into the bedroom and flung himself at you, wrapping you up in the tightest hug.
“SAN?! What what are you doing?” you gasped, trying to keep your balance.
“I love you,” he whined dramatically, burying his face in your neck. “I love you so much.”
You blinked in confusion. “Did you- wait, did you hear what I said?”
He nodded frantically. “Yes, and I think my heart exploded, so now you have to deal with me being extra clingy.”
You laughed, wrapping your arms around him. “That’s nothing new.”
San only hummed in satisfaction, holding you as close as possible. “Just never stop loving me, okay?”
“Never.”
Mingi
Mingi had just come out of the shower, towel around his neck, when he heard you talking on the phone. He had planned to dry his hair, but the second he heard you saying his name, he froze.
“I know he can be a little shy sometimes,” you were saying with a fond chuckle. “But Mingi loves so deeply. He’s the kind of person who just… feels everything with his whole heart. I see it in the way he looks at me, the way he holds my hand even when we’re just sitting on the couch. He makes me feel like the most loved person in the world, and honestly, I don’t think I could ever get tired of him.”
Mingi stood there, gripping his towel like it was the only thing keeping him grounded. His ears were burning, his heart pounding. He always worried that he wasn’t good at expressing himself, that maybe you didn’t know just how much he loved you but hearing you say that? It made every insecurity vanish.
When you hung up and turned around, Mingi was standing there, wide-eyed and pink-faced.
“…Mingi?”
His lips wobbled into a sheepish smile. “So… you don’t think you could ever get tired of me?”
Your eyes widened. “Oh my god, you heard that?”
He nodded, suddenly shy, rubbing the back of his neck. “I, uh… I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but…”
You smiled and walked up to him, wrapping your arms around his waist. “Good. Now you know how much I love you.”
Mingi let out a breathy chuckle before hugging you tightly. “I love you too. So much.”
Wooyoung
Wooyoung had been lounging on the bed, absentmindedly playing with his phone when he heard you talking in the next room. Normally, he’d mind his own business but the moment he heard his name, his ears perked up like a cat’s.
“I don’t think people realize just how soft Wooyoung is,” you were saying. “He’s all teasing and chaos on the outside, but with me? He’s the gentlest person ever. He always knows when I need comfort, and he never hesitates to show me how much he loves me. He makes me feel so adored. It’s like… no matter where I am, as long as I’m with him, I know I belong.”
Wooyoung felt like he just got shot by Cupid’s arrow a million times over. His hand flew to his chest dramatically, and he let out a silent scream into his pillow before getting up and practically running to where you were.
The moment you turned around, he tackled you into a hug, spinning you in circles.
“WOOYOUNG!” you shrieked, laughing. “What are you doing?!”
“I LOVE YOU!” he declared, setting you down only to cup your face dramatically. “You really think all that about me? That I make you feel like you belong?”
Your cheeks turned warm. “Wait, you heard…?”
“Oh, I heard,” he grinned. “And now I feel so loved that I might just cry.”
You rolled your eyes, but your heart melted at his reaction. “You’re ridiculous.”
“And you love it,” he sang, kissing your forehead.
You sighed, smiling. “Yeah. I really do.”
Jongho
Jongho had been sitting on the couch, quietly reading a book, when he heard you talking in the other room. Normally, he wouldn’t pay much attention, but then he heard his name and suddenly, the book in his hands wasn’t so interesting anymore.
“I know he doesn’t always say a lot,” you were telling your friend, voice filled with warmth. “But Jongho loves in a way that’s so steady and strong. I never have to doubt it. He always makes me feel secure, like I have someone I can lean on no matter what. And the way he looks at me sometimes… I don’t think he realizes how much he says with just his eyes. I’ve never felt so safe with anyone before.”
Jongho swallowed hard, his fingers tightening around the book. He wasn’t the type to get flustered easily, but your words hit him straight in the heart. He always tried to show his love in quiet ways, but hearing that you truly felt it without him having to say much meant everything.
When you came back into the living room, you noticed him staring at you with a soft but intense gaze.
“Jongho?” you asked, tilting your head.
Without a word, he reached out, gently pulling you down onto the couch beside him. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you against his chest in a rare, lingering embrace.
“Whoa, what’s this for?” you murmured, surprised but not complaining.
“…I heard you,” he admitted quietly.
Your face warmed. “Oh.”
Jongho sighed, resting his chin on top of your head. “You really don’t have to worry. I’ll always be here for you.”
Your heart melted as you snuggled closer. “I know.
And that was all that needed to be said.
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koralcove · 5 months ago
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since it's established that caleb cooks for you (us/mc), imagine after reuniting with one another that he's noticed how thin you've gotten compared to when he last saw you. with the ongoing investigation about the aether core and grieving for your (supposedly) dead family, you haven't had time to take care of yourself well enough. you're mostly driven on energy via takeouts, eating out, and snacking for when you remember to take a break. when he runs his thumb softly on your cheek, he can feel the loss of the chub on your face that he used to affectionately (and annoyingly, on your part) squeeze and pinch on. but it's nothing that he can't fix with spoiling you with his cooking. so every day, he makes it a mission to make time to cook your favourite meals and dishes that he knows you've missed since he'd been gone, and within a week, he can already see the plumpness of your cheeks taking shape to what he used to know. when you start to complain that your shorts seem a bit tight on you and you opt to borrow his shirts instead of wearing your usual ones, his chest is filled with pride at his work of seeing those cute little pudges on your body.
tonight, you're probably on your third round of wolfing down another one of your favourites that he made. you'd told yourself yesterday that you'd hold back from eating too much ever since your eye caught on the slight fullness of your belly. your face has gotten a tad rounder, and you're aghast at just how much you've been consuming for only a week. you would've objected as caleb keeps asking if you want another round, but you've missed the taste of his cooking. the taste of home. and there's a part of you that's clutching onto the flavours as if it's the last meal you'll ever get from him. a part of you still finds it unbelievable that he's really here with you, right in the flesh, laughing and mussing on your hair. the familiar touch seems like a slap on your face that you find a prickling sensation at the back of your nose whenever the reality sets that... he's here. and he's home. you're home. you are both home.
noticing the faraway look on your eyes and the distracted movement, caleb pipes up. "you look like you're thinking too hard. had second thoughts about my cooking?"
you blink, snapping out of your glum musings and shaking your head. "no. just... thinking of your ulterior motive of fattening me up. don't think i haven't noticed. every day feels like a feast with how much you're cooking. i might have to buy new clothes, y'know."
caleb only smiles at your words, jabbing your forehead lightly with his finger. "well, it looks like you forgot to take care of yourself while i was gone. can't do anything without me, huh?"
you huff at the light teasing, taking a bite out of your food and looking down on your plate. your eyes might betray you. and you don't think you can handle the soft look he's giving you.
"but don't worry. your caleb is back, and i'm here to take care of my pip-squeak. and what better way to start than to get some meat back on you." he grins.
you groan. "stooop. you're taking me out of shape, and i'm blaming you if i fall behind with everyone when i suddenly become out of breath."
caleb only chuckles at you. "i think i'm just giving you more shape, if you ask me. and that wouldn't be so bad. that means i get to have more of you!" he squeezes your side affectionately, and you shy away from how ticklish you are, along with a small sense of insecurity bleeding through you. caleb doesn't miss your small scrunch of discomfort.
"you know i like you no matter what shape or form, right?" he pulls his chair closer to yours, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze. "and... there is a law about that, y'know?"
your brow furrows in confusion. "there is?"
he nods, a cheeky smile quirking on his lips. "yeah. "the greater the mass, the greater the force of attraction". soooo, in other words, the more i plump you up, my attraction to you will keep increasing."
your mouth hangs at his words, and you playfully jab his side. "gē! you..."
he merely laughs, pinching on your cheek for extra measure. his glee is infectious that you can't help but break into a smile as well.
ah, caleb thinks, there's my girl.
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can't get over that caleb is just basically packed into the law of gravitation. smartass would probably use that line to his advantage.
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