#his and hers matching pajamas
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gullei · 1 year ago
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Matching Sleepwear and Loungewear Sets - Pure Cotton, Thick Flannel, Soft and Cozy PJs for Couples. Elevate your shared moments with our curated collection of coordinated sets. From the softness of pure cotton to the warmth of thick flannel, Gullei.com offers the perfect blend of comfort for couples.
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bumblingbabooshka · 3 months ago
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Was thinking about how Janeway does NOT seem like a person who'd wear a silky little pink nightgown to bed which ended with me thinking about how it'd be SO funny if Tuvok & Janeway inexplicably had matching pajama sets. They don't go to each other's rooms that often and it's rare for anyone to visit either of them (specifically Tuvok) after hours so no one really notices except one night Chakotay (who's seen Janeway in her pajamas during 'Resolutions') has to get Tuvok to sign off on something and sees he's wearing the exact same pair. Now Chakotay is sitting in silence in his own room like 'WHY do they have matching pajamas??????'
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bluelockmaniac · 5 months ago
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gojo satoru would be such a pouty, jealous, and petty husband, especially when the two of you have a child.
what do you mean he has to watch you effortlessly lift your giggling baby girl into the air with your arms reaching out, and listen to her delighted squeals as you catch her and tickle her tiny belly? why haven't you ever done that to him? he's sulking, arms folded over his chest and eyes narrowed as if he does not realize the absurdity of his complaint; who's going to be able to lift up a huge man at the ridiculous height of six foot three?
what do you mean he has to watch you both come home from the mall, a shopping bag in your hand as you reveal a matching set of pajamas? his jaw drops, eyes widening in disbelief as you and your daughter emerge from the bedroom adorned in identical hello kitty pajamas, faces covered in masks and cucumber slices perched on your eyes. he slumps further into the couch as you two pose for selfies, looking absolutely adorable together. truth is, he loved hello kitty as much as his child did, he just . . . might have never had the courage to voice it out!
what do you mean he had to return home after a tedious fight, only to find you and your daughter cutely nestled on the couch, watching a movie together while cuddling?! he also wanted to watch boss baby :(
you quietly open the door to your shared bedroom and tiptoe inside, hoping not to wake satoru. to your surprise, you notice he was still awake, lying on the bed with his arms defiantly crossed over the blanket. his lips are jutted out in a pout, blue eyes narrowed as they glare at you.
“well? are you going to read me my bedtime story?”
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© 2024 bluelockmaniac — do not repost, copy, translate, modify, etc my work on any platform !
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bi-writes · 5 months ago
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Simon short circuiting when his mail order bride does something kind for him :)) uses her new credit card to buy him his favorite tea and cat treats for bonding with his new baby <3
mail-order bride
simon lets out a deep breath as he slips his boots off. he pulls his tact vest over his head, dropping it beside his shoes before rolling out his neck. he's exhausted. he's been awake for 36 hours at least, and not even a few hours ago, he had been camped out on a rooftop with nothing but his sniper rifle for company.
you pad into the living room, dressed in cute cherry-printed pajamas. little shorts with a matching short-sleeve top, and you smile shyly when you see him standing by the door. your eyes wander a little; you've never seen him with his gear on, and he's surprised you're not more startled by the skull mask he's wearing.
his head darts to the side when he sees the cat hopping along the shelves on the wall. the cat launches itself off the closest shelf, landing on the back of his shoulders and nuzzling along the back of his head before dropping onto the floor to weave between his legs.
"welcome home," you say softly, coming closer, and simon just nods. you reach up when you get closer, slipping your hands under his hoodie to find the hem of his mask. you pull it up gently over his head, smiling a little wider when you reveal his face underneath. he has eye-black smudged around his eyes, but otherwise, your husband looks his normal self, aside from the dark circles under his eyes.
you understand immediately that simon isn't in a good mood. he's irritated, tired, sour-faced and agitated. you smooth your hands down his chest before kneeling on the carpet. simon blinks, confused, but then he watches as you start to unbuckle the holsters around his thighs. you get him undressed enough that he's just wearing his jeans and his hoodie, and he takes your hand gently to help you stand back up. you hook your pinkie around his, guiding him to take a seat on the couch before you disappear into the kitchen.
simon leans his head back against the couch, shutting his eyes gently. to come home to a warm place, one filled with another person, it's frighteningly comforting. he has always come home to the dark. to the heater off and all the rooms empty. to silence and his own terrifying thoughts.
"simon?"
he opens his eyes and sits up a little, blinking the sleep away as you come closer. he hums when he sees you holding a mug, walking slow as you try and keep it steady. you hand him the mug, watching as he takes a slow sip of it.
he shuts his eyes, letting out a shaky breath. it's perfect. he's never told you how he prefers his tea, but it's got just a splash of milk and nothing more. the thoughtfulness warms him more than the drink does, and he curls his toes a little as he tries not to think about it too hard.
"oh!" you smile. "i-i...i filled your car up, and i-i got you something when i went to get a water."
you scurry towards your purse by the door, rummaging through it before you pull out a little crinkled paper bag. you sit next to him on the couch and hand it to him after he sets his tea down on the coffee table.
he reaches into the bag and wraps his hand around a little plastic trinket, pulling it out. he blinks, hooking a gloved finger through the little keychain he's holding. he holds it up, face neutral, but after a few moments, a low chuckle leaves him.
it's a little skeleton, and the bones of it wiggle and dance when he shakes it.
"i...i thought of you when i saw it," you laugh a little, and he watches as the cat hops up onto your lap, moving over your legs to sniff at the little skeleton simon is holding up. after a few moments, the cat reaches up with a paw and smacks the skeleton, watching it shake and wiggle before smacking it again.
"yeah?" simon murmurs, meeting your eyes. "you miss me?"
"y-yes...yeah. w-we missed you."
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dante-mightdie · 2 months ago
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You've got me thinking about weirdo butcher!Simon and when his lil wife decides she wants to put on some silly lingerie, he just like goes blank. Mind gone, hand down his pants, fisting his cock to the sight of her, blinded by his lady in front of him dressed like that that he forgets he can fuck her too.
I put my hair in rollers last night and did my nails all pretty at my vanity so let me imagine the same for this 🤭
c/w: nsfw, masturbation
imagine him sat up in your shared bed, watching you say at the vanity you just had to have from the market. it was way to expensive but simon threatened talked the guy down to an acceptable price and he must admit, it was totally worth it to see this
his pretty wife, his darling woman perched a top the cushioned stool, hair up in rollers like his very own little pin-up doll. black silk nightie with a matching robe draped over your lotioned shoulders. his room smells of your body spray. he doesn’t understand why you put it on before bed but you smell heavenly so he’s not complaining
his hand slips under the covers and into his pajama pants as he watches you file and buff your nails, adding random gels and oils to your nails. you’re yapping to him about your day and how you can make dinner with those chicken thighs in the shop downstairs before they go bad, too engrossed in your task to notice simon touching himself
it’s only when his cock becomes too slick to go unnoticed, the sounds of his desperate strokes bouncing off the walls of the bedroom
“si?”
“mhm?” he grunts like a caveman, breathing heavily from his mouth as more precrum spills from the slit of his cock
“want me to come to bed, big guy?”
“yeah. yeah- come take care’a me, dollie.”
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v6quewrlds · 1 month ago
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❝ love language, j. burrow. ❞  ‎ ‎ ┉  
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‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀summary: joe burrow was made to be a husband. your honeymoon is proof enough that loving you is his love language.
‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀author's note: inspired by a couple of anon requests! another addition to the joe can't shut up when he's in love agenda. no real plot, no real substance. took me a solid month to write this so i tried to incorporate as many reqs as i could <3
‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀warnings: smut, please do not interact with my work if you are under 18. language, sexual content, excessive usage of husband and wife/mr. and mrs., breeding kink, reader mentions ovulating, massage, cheesy dialogue, oral sex (fem receiving), mention of butt stuff but no actual butt stuff, backshots!!, mirror sex, praise kink if you squint.
‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀pairing: joe burrow x wife!reader.
‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀word count: 8k.
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In the bustling backroom of the grand ballroom, you stood tall and radiant, your brown eyes sparkling with a blend of excitement and exhaustion. The scent of your bouquet of baby breaths filled the small space, mingling with the faint aroma of Joe's cologne. You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the wedding gown you had spent months choosing.
Joe, dressed sharply in his tuxedo, leaned against the wall with his arms folded, his blue eyes dancing with amusement as he watched you fidget with your dress. "You look like you're about to jump out of your skin," he said, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.
You rolled your eyes, a laugh bubbling up from your chest. "You have no idea," you replied, your voice filled with energy. "I've been holding it together for hours, and now all I want to do is kick off these heels and dance like a lunatic."
Joe chuckled, his sarcasm giving way to affection as he stepped closer to you. He reached out and took your hand, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in a gentle caress. "Well, Mrs. Burrow," he began, his voice low and teasing, "once we make our grand entrance, the dance floor is all yours."
Your eyes lit up at the sound of your new title, a grin spreading across your face. "And what will Mr. Burrow be doing?" you asked, raising an eyebrow playfully.
Joe shrugged, his own smile growing. "Probably tripping over my own two feet. You know I'm more of a 'sway and hope nobody notices' kind of dancer."
"Not tonight, Joey." You said with a mischievous glint in your eye. "Tonight, you're dancing with me like you mean it."
Joe feigned a dramatic sigh, but the joy in his eyes was unmistakable. "Fine," he drew out the vowels, rolling his eyes playfully despite the unmistakable grin that was spreading across his face. "But only if you promise not to laugh when I get a few drinks in me."
Your laugh was music to Joe's ears, and he felt his own tension start to unwind. "Deal," you said, leaning in to kiss him lightly. The kiss was chaste, but it carried the promise of a million more to come, each one more passionate than the last.
The door to the room swung open and in barged a rush of laughter and chatter as your wedding party piled in. "Alright, Mr. & Mrs. Burrow," your wedding planner called out, her voice a mix of hurry and delight. "It's showtime!"
-
"You're up to something," Joe murmured, catching the mischievous glint in your eyes as you sauntered into the hotel room. The evening air clung to your skin, carrying the faint scent of your wedding flowers with you. He was lounging on the plush bed, scrolling through his phone, his muscular form stretched out in the white cotton pajamas that matched your own.
"Me? I'm not up to anything," you retorted, your laughter twinkling in the quiet space. The sight of you made Joe's heart stumble, the way you filled out those pajamas like they were tailored just for you—they were. He knew that look, though. The way you bit your lower lip and your hips swayed just so. You had something on your mind, and it sure as hell wasn't sleep.
Joe set his phone aside, settling deeper into the pillows. "You're smiling too hard for it to be nothing," he said, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.
You prowled closer, your smile deepening with the grin that spread across your face. "Maybe I'm just happy to see my husband," you said, your voice a purr that sent a shiver down Joe's spine. "My shiny, new husband."
He knew better.
That glint in your eye was the same one you had before you tackled him into bed back home. Before he could say anything else, you straddled him, your thighs pressing into his hips, palms pressing him into the hotel bedsheets eagerly.
"Your wife is ovulating, Mr. Burrow," you whispered into his ear, your hot breath tickling his neck. Joe couldn't help but laugh, his hands instinctively reaching to grip your waist.
"And that means?" Joe replied, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through your body. Despite his amusement, there was a flicker of interest in his eyes.
"It means I want you to do something about it," you said, your voice dropping to a seductive whisper. You began to rock your hips against him, the friction making you wetter by the second. Joe's laughter died in his throat, and he stared up at you, his eyes darkening. 
"I know how much you love it when I'm like this," you cooed, your hands sliding under his shirt to trace the contours of his solid upper body.
"Is that so?" Joe said, his voice thick with amusement. He couldn't deny that there was something about you at your most aroused that made his heart skip a beat. It had become a secret little card between the two of you, one that you loved to play when you knew he was at his most susceptible.
"Mmhmm," you murmured, your teeth grazing his earlobe. "Remember that time you said I smell like heaven when I'm ovulating?"
Joe couldn't help the smirk that tugged at his lips. "I might have said something like that," he admitted, his voice a low, playful rumble.
You leaned in closer, your breath hot against his skin. "Well, heaven's calling," you said, your hips moving in a slow, deliberate circle that made Joe's eyes roll back in his head.
"You're going to be the death of me, woman," he groaned, his hands tightening around your waist as you continued her delicate torture.
Your grin grew wider, your brown eyes gleaming with mischief. "Is that a 'yes'? You’re not too tired?" you asked, your voice dripping with sweet seduction.
"It's definitely a 'yes', sweetheart. I could never be too tired for you," Joe managed, his breath hitching as your hips continued their mesmerizing dance. He pushed your pajama shorts aside, the gold wedding band glittering against his skin as his fingers moved to reveal your slick folds.
"But you better be quiet," he warned, glancing over at the walls that separated them from your parents' rooms on either side. "I don't think they need to know what we're up to over here."
“It’s our wedding night, baby. I think our parents would hope we'd be having dirty marital sex on our wedding night,” you giggled, the sound light and airy, as you leaned down to kiss him. "They want grandbabies and this is how it happens."
Your tongue slipped into his mouth, tasting like mint and a hint of the champagne you had picked out for the reception. The kiss grew deeper, more urgent, until Joe couldn't take it anymore. He flipped you onto your back, his body covering yours, his cock pressing against your heat.
"You're so wet," he murmured, his voice filled with wonder and lust.
"Told you," you said, your voice a smug whisper. You reached down to stroke him through his pants, feeling him twitch against your palm. "You always get me like this."
Joe chuckled, his blue eyes sparkling with desire. "So it’s not just the multi-million dollar fortune now in your name?" he murmured, kissing you deeply.
"We can't have you waking up the whole floor." He pulled your pajama shorts down before throwing them over his shoulder to discard them. Your laughter was muffled against his neck as he positioned himself between your legs.
He slid into you with a groan, the feeling of your tight warmth around him making him forget about the walls that were a little too thin. Your nails dug into his back as he began to move, slow at first, savoring every inch of you.
"Fuck," you breathed, your eyes squeezed shut. "You feel so good."
Joe's teeth sank into your shoulder to keep his own moans quiet. "You're so wet, baby," he murmured, his voice strained. "So, so wet."
"I can't help it," you panted, your legs wrapping around him. "You looked so good out there, all husband-y and...fuck, Joe, right there."
Joe chuckled against your neck, his teeth grazing your skin as he hit your sweet spot with precision. He knew exactly how to make you squirm. He loved it when you lost control, when you forgot about the world around you and just focused on the pleasure he was giving you.
"I’m so thankful you’re mine," he whispered, his hips driving into you with increasing force. The headboard hit the wall with a muffled thump that made you both giggle, despite the intensity of the moment. You wrapped your arms around Joe's neck, your nails lightly raking his scalp as you pulled him closer, silently begging for more.
Joe's breath was hot against your neck as he murmured, "You're so fucking tight."
The words sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn't help but moan a little louder. "Shh," Joe said, a hint of laughter in his voice as he pressed a finger to your lips. "These walls are so thin."
You rolled your eyes playfully, but your breath hitched when Joe reached over to grab a pillow. He slammed it over your face, muffling your laughter. "Not helping," you mumbled into the softness.
He threw the pillow aside with a laugh and slid his thumb into your mouth instead, your teeth grazing the pad as you tried to keep your noises down. It was a struggle, especially as he found his rhythm and your moans grew more insistent. The scent of your arousal filled the air, and Joe couldn't resist the urge to bury his nose in your neck, inhaling deeply. It was like a drug, making his cock throb even more.
"So good. My wife’s so tight, squeezing her husband’s cock so well, like she was fuckin' made for it," he groaned, his fingers tightening in your hair as he held you in place. Your eyes were squeezed shut, your body arching up to meet his every thrust. The quiet room was filled with the slick sounds of skin on skin, your harsh breathing, and the occasional muffled curse.
"You're so...so...oh, fuck, Joey," you managed, your words barely audible around his fingers. Your legs trembled, your body poised on the edge of release.
Joe couldn't hold back his own groans any longer. He knew he was pushing your buttons, and the way you squirmed beneath him was all the encouragement he needed. "I know, baby," he murmured, his voice a mix of affection and lust. "You're close, aren't you?"
You nodded, your eyes squeezed shut as Joe picked up the pace. You were close, so close, but he wasn't done with you yet. He pulled his thumb from your mouth and slammed into you harshly, his balls slapping against your ass. The sound was obscene, but Joe couldn't bring himself to care. All he could focus on was the feel of your tight pussy clamping down around him, your walls pulsing with each thrust.
Your eyes snapped open, and you looked up at Joe with a mix of love and pure desire. "Don't stop," you begged, your voice a breathy whisper. "Please, Joe, don't stop."
"Never," Joe promised, his voice a gruff growl. He thrust deeper, feeling your muscles tighten around him. He knew you were close, and the thought of you coming apart under him was all he needed to fall over the edge. He reached down to rub your clit in tight circles, his fingers slipping and sliding in your wetness. "I'm gonna fill this sweet pussy up. Make my wife happy like I vowed. Might even make you a mama." he murmured, his voice low and guttural.
Your eyes rolled back in your head, your breath coming in short gasps. The pressure was building, coiling in your stomach, threatening to break free. You nodded, your hips bucking up to meet his. "Please, Joe," you whimpered, your voice barely above a whisper. "I need it."
With a powerful thrust, Joe gave you what you craved. Your eyes snapped open, and you bit down on your lip to keep from screaming. He didn't stop, though, his strokes growing faster and more erratic.
"That's it, baby. Keep squeezing me, just like that. Gonna make you feel real good, sweetheart. Get you all nice and warm with my cum, huh?" Joe's voice was a gruff whisper in your ear as you rode the waves of pleasure. 
“Is that what you want?” His words were like gasoline on a fire, sending sparks of arousal through your body. You could feel him thicken inside you, his breaths growing harsher with each thrust. “You want me to give you a baby?”
Your eyes squeezed shut as you nodded, your hips moving in time with Joe's. The room was a whirlwind of sensations, the scent of your sex mingling with the faint ocean breeze that slipped through the open balcony doors. The sound of the waves outside seemed to echo the rhythm of your lovemaking, a steady movement building up to a crescendo.
"Oh, Joe," you breathed, your voice strained. "Fuck, yes. Yes."
Your eyes met, and Joe saw the desperation in them, the need for release that mirrored his own. He leaned down, his mouth claiming yours in a fierce kiss as he slammed into you, giving you everything he had. Your nails dug into his back, your body writhing beneath his. And then you were there, your orgasm crashing over you like a wave, your inner muscles clenching down around his cock in a spasm of pleasure. He spilled over the edge at the same time, filling you with his hot, thick spend. You both froze for a moment, the room silent except for the harsh sounds of your panting.
"Holy shit," Joe breathed, collapsing onto you with a satisfied groan. His chest heaved with each breath, his heart racing in his ears. The feel of you, warm and wet around him, was heavenly. He kissed your neck, your skin salty with a sheen of sweat.
You chuckled, the vibrations traveling through Joe's body. "You're such a romantic," you teased. "Now get off, you're 20 pounds heavier than normal."
"Nah, gotta make sure it all stays inside, you know?" Joe quipped, his voice muffled by your shoulder. He didn't move, enjoying the feeling of your body still quivering with the aftershocks of your climax. You giggled, your breath warm against his neck.
"You're ridiculous," you murmured, your voice still shaky with pleasure. Joe's laughter rumbled against your skin, his body a delicious weight that you didn't want to shift just yet. The two of you lay there, tangled in the sheets, your hearts racing in sync.
"There's no way they didn't hear something," you said, your voice a mix of exasperation and amusement. You could feel Joe's cock still twitching inside you, the evidence of his release seeping out to wet the bed between your legs.
"Your mom's been talking nonstop about a grandchild. I think she'll appreciate the knowledge that we're working on it right away," Joe replied with a lazy grin, not bothering to move. You playfully slapped his ass, making him yelp.
"Get off, you're crushing me," you giggled, pushing at Joe's shoulder. He chuckled, rolling off you and flopping onto his back. His cock slipped out with a wet sound, and you couldn't help but stare at the mess you had made. You felt a warm trickle of his cum slide out of you and trickle down your thigh.
Joe glanced over and grinned. "Looks like we've got a little cleanup on aisle five," he said, gesturing to the wet spot on the bed.
You threw a pillow at him, which he caught with ease. "You're so annoying," you said, your voice filled with affection. "If you're gonna be into this breeding kink thing, you're gonna have to help clean me up after."
Joe sat up, his chest heaving from the exertion. "Fair enough," he said, tossing the pillow back at you. "Can I lick you clean?" he offered with a waggle of his eyebrows, his voice filled with mischief.
You rolled your eyes, but the heat in your gaze betrayed your arousal. "Perv," you murmured, a smirk playing on your lips.
Joe shrugged, unabashed. "What? Is that a yes?" He leaned over to nip at your earlobe, sending a shiver down your spine. Despite the teasing, there was a genuine question in his voice, his breath hot against your skin.
"Not today, playboy," you said, swatting Joe's hand away as he reached for your still-sensitive folds. "But I'll keep it in mind for later."
You slithered out of bed, the dampness between your legs leaving a stain on the sheet. "For now, I'm going to take a shower before your mom starts knocking on the door wondering if we're okay."
Joe watched your retreating form with a lazy smile, his eyes lingering on your round, firm ass as you disappeared into the en suite bathroom. "Without me?" he called after you, pouting as he feigned disappointment in his voice.
When you looked at him over your shoulder, a smile pulling at your lips, he leaped out of bed. His cock was still half-hard as he chased after you, his playfulness evident in every step.
-
You stretched your limbs against the crisp, white villa sheets. You blinked your brown eyes open to the early morning sun peeking through the luxurious curtains, hinting at the promise of a new day. Next to you, Joe lay still, his chest rising and falling with the steady rhythm of sleep. His dirty blonde hair was a mess, a heartwarming contrast to his usually meticulous grooming.
You couldn't help but smile at the sight of the man who was now your husband. Your first days as a married couple had been filled with passion and laughter, and you were eager to start this new chapter of your life together.
Your private plane ride had been nothing short of a dream. The thrilling rush of flying high above the clouds, sipping champagne, and even sneaking away to join the mile-high club in the spacious bathroom.
As you slipped out of bed, the soft carpet whispered a greeting beneath your bare feet. You padded over to the floor-to-ceiling window, taking in the breathtaking view of the tropical paradise that stretched out before you. The sea was a canvas of azure, blending into the horizon where the sun had just begun to paint streaks of gold and pink. It was the perfect setting for a honeymoon, and you couldn't have been more grateful for Joe's thoughtful surprise.
As you continued to gaze at the view, you felt Joe's arms snake around your waist from behind. He pulled you into his embrace, pressing a soft kiss to the nape of your neck. "Good morning, Mrs. Burrow," he murmured, his voice thick with sleep and a hint of pride. You giggled, feeling the warmth of his body against yours.
"Good morning, Mr. Burrow," you replied, leaning into his touch. "I can't believe we're actually here." You twisted around in his arms, your smile widening as you met his gaze. Joe's blue eyes sparkled with love as he said, "I know what you mean. I had to pinch myself during the flight to make sure it wasn't just a dream."
"Was that before or after we christened the plane's bathroom?" You quipped, your eyes dancing with mischief. Joe chuckled, his arms tightening around you as you shared the intimate memory.
"Before," he said, his voice low and playful. "But I'm sure we can make some more memories today if you're up for it."
You decided to shower together, the warm water cascading over your bodies as you soaped each other up. The sensual act of washing each other had become a morning ritual for you, a gentle reminder of your love and devotion. As you stepped out, Joe couldn't resist smacking your ass playfully, making you yelp in surprise. You shot him a mock glare, which quickly melted into a grin as you grabbed a towel and dried off.
Dressing in your swimwear, you headed down to breakfast. The hotel had laid out a spread that could feed a small army, but you kept it simple: avocado eggs benedict for you and an omelet for him, a side of crispy bacon for you both. You sat by the pool, sipping on tropical smoothies, the gentle sound of the waves in the distance setting the mood for the day ahead. You felt your excitement build as you listened to Joe recount the plans he had made for your day.
Your midday snorkeling adventure was nothing short of magical. The crystal-clear waters revealed a vibrant underwater world of coral reefs and a rainbow of fish. You couldn't help but cling to Joe's arm in amazement as you floated above the aquatic wonderland. His constant, nerdy stream of ocean facts kept you laughing. You held hands underwater, your wedding rings glinting in the sunlight that pierced through the surface, a symbolic declaration of your commitment to each other.
-
"You're so sunburnt," you teased, your eyes sparkling with mirth as you traced your finger across Joe's pink shoulder. Your own skin, kissed by the sun, had a warm glow that contrasted with the vibrant, floral-printed sundress that clung deliciously to your curves like a second skin.
Joe groaned dramatically, his fair complexion suffering from the tropical heat more than your naturally darker skin. "You think that's funny?" he shot back, though his smile gave away his playful annoyance.
You had spent the entire day snorkeling in the crystal waters and lounging under the palm trees, and Joe in all his stubbornness had decided against sunscreen, claiming it would be nice to get a "tan" in. Needless to say, the Caribbean sun had been less than kind to his poor, Midwestern pale skin. You had been more fortunate, your skin a beautiful canvas of brown with the hint of a shimmer from your coconut-scented sunscreen.
"It's hilarious, actually," you said, leaning in to kiss his burnt nose. "Come on. We can grab some aloe from the gift shop for your poor, crispy skin."
Joe rolled his eyes, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. "Oh, the joys of being married to a smartass," he murmured, pulling you closer to his side. Your hand splayed across his chest, ring catching the golden sunlight as he pressed a fleeting kiss to your temple.
"You love this smart ass," you quipped back, gasping with surprise as Joe's left hand reached down to smooth over the fabric covering your ass.
"I do love this ass," Joe murmured lowly, delivering a full-handed squeeze to each of your cheeks. "No lie."
After retrieving the aloe from the gift shop, you retreated to your luxurious villa. The room was bathed in the soft glow of the setting sun, casting a warm, romantic light over the plush California king-sized bed and the floor-to-ceiling windows that revealed the stunning view of the ocean. You carefully applied the cool aloe vera gel to Joe's sun-bitten skin, your gentle touch offering a sweet respite from the sting.
Joe's eyes fluttered shut as you worked your way down his back, your fingers tracing the contours of his muscles, which had been honed from countless hours in the gym and on the field. He could feel the tension of the day melting away under your touch.
"I'm sorry, baby," you hummed softly as Joe hissed when you reached a particularly tender spot. "I know it stings."
"It's okay," Joe managed through gritted teeth, his eyes still closed. "Guess I'll have to stay out of the sun tomorrow."
You chuckled, your hands continuing their soothing dance across his skin. "I can't imagine that happening. It's so beautiful out there," you said, glancing out at the horizon where the sun was dipping below the waves.
"Just means I get to stay in bed with you all day," Joe murmured, his voice thick with innuendo. He turned his head from his spot on his stomach, looking at you over his shoulder with a smoldering gaze.
Your laughter turned into a knowing smile, and you leaned in to kiss the back of his neck. "Is that a promise?" you asked, your voice dropping to a whisper that sent shivers down his spine.
Joe's gaze met yours in the reflection of the large, ornate mirror on the opposite wall. "I'm a man who takes his vows seriously," he replied, his voice low and gruff with desire. Your eyes darkened with anticipation as you set the aloe aside, replacing it with a bottle of massage oil. You climbed back onto the bed, straddling his back with the bottle balanced delicately in your hand.
"Let's see if we can make this feel a little better," you said, your tone a mix of sweetness and conspiracy. You began to work the oil into his shoulders, your soft, skilled hands kneading out the knots that had formed from a full day of swimming and sun.
Joe groaned in pleasure, his eyes still locked on yours in the mirror. "You're a miracle worker," he murmured, feeling the heat of the oil and your touch seep into his sore muscles.
You grinned, your eyes glued to his baby blues. "Just doing my wifey duties," you said, your voice dripping with sweetness. You continued to massage him, your hands moving in slow, firm circles that grew increasingly sensual as you worked your way down his back.
Joe felt his body responding to your touch, his muscles relaxing and his skin prickling with goosebumps. "Is this part of the standard honeymoon package?" he managed to ask, his voice strained.
You giggled, your hands sliding lower, dangerously close to the waistband of his swim trunks. "Oh, this is a special upgrade," you whispered, your breath hot against his ear as you leaned forward to press your chest to his back. "Just for my favorite man."
Your thumbs dipped beneath the fabric, tracing the waistline of his trunks and sending a jolt of electricity through his body. He bit his lip, his eyes never leaving yours in the mirror. "What else does this upgrade include?" he asked, his voice a low growl.
"Well," you began, your hands moving to the back of his trunks, "It's a full-service deal. I'll take care of every inch of you." You tugged the material down, exposing his firm, sun-neglected ass. His skin was tight and pale, practically begging for the warmth of your palms.
With a devilish smirk, you started to massage the oil into his ass, your touch feather-light at first, teasing him with the promise of more. Joe's breath hitched, his body tensing under your touch. You leaned down, your chest brushing against his back as you kissed the top of his shoulder. "Do you like that?" you whispered, your breath hot on his skin.
Joe's only response was a nod, his eyes squeezed shut in focus. You chuckled, your hands growing bolder, kneading his cheeks with a firmness that made him moan. Your fingers danced closer to his crack, and you could feel his arousal growing against your thigh.
"Just keep that finger to yourself, missy," Joe warned playfully, his voice strained with pleasure. Your disappointed groan was like music to his ears, and he felt his cock twitch against the mattress at the sound.
Your response was to give his right cheek a gentle smack, the sound echoing through the room. "One of these days, I'll get what I want," you teased, your hands leaving their spot on his ass to work at his shoulders once more. The warmth from your touch seeped into Joe's bones, and he couldn't help but let out a low moan.
"One of these days," he echoed, his voice thick with desire, "but not today." You knew he was enjoying the anticipation, the buildup of pleasure that you so skillfully crafted. You leaned in closer, your breasts pressing into his back again as you whispered a command into his ear to flip over.
With a groan, Joe obeyed, his cock standing at full attention underneath his swim trunks as he lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling fan that lazily spun above you. You took in the sight of your husband, your eyes lingering on the trail of hair that led from his navel to his groin, the faintest dusting of sun freckles across his shoulders, and the way his chest stood proud and firm. You couldn't help but feel a surge of pride knowing that this man, this powerful, successful man, was all yours.
Straddling his hips, you leaned over to kiss him, your oiled hands sliding over his chest. Your kisses grew more heated, Joe's hands coming up to grip your ass firmly, now his turn to kneed your flesh. You felt his cock throb against your inner thigh and you broke away, breathless. "Someone's eager," you teased, your eyes sparkling with excitement.
"You have no idea," Joe murmured, his voice breaking with surprise as you playfully pinched his nipples. You straightened your back as you sat up, your crotch slotted perfectly over his erection. Your manicured nails trailed down his stomach, the cool metal of your wedding ring sending goosebumps skittering across his skin. Joe's hands moved to your waist, his thumbs playing with the soft material of your dress. His blue eyes blazed with need as he took in your beauty, the way your tits strained against the fabric, the curve of your hips, the shadow between your thighs that promised heaven.
"You should wear these dresses more often," Joe said, his voice strained as you ground your hips against his. The dresses in question had been a staple to your honeymoon wardrobe, all thin straps and flowing in every color under the rainbow. You leaned back, arching your spine, giving him a better view of your body.
"You like them? Maybe I'll start wearing them to your games," you quipped, your eyes dancing with mischief. Joe's grip tightened on your waist, his mind racing with the thought of you in this dress, teasing him in front of the cameras. He could picture your figure amplified on national television as the color commentators declared you as his wife, your new last name rolling off their tongues easily.
"That's what I'm afraid of," Joe chuckled, his thumbs stroking your hips as he fought to keep his cool. "No way are you distracting my focus like that."
You giggled, your hands sliding down to grip the bulge of his dick through the fabric of his trunks. "But you'd love it," you whispered, your teeth grazing his earlobe. "Imagine every time you looked over at the sidelines and saw me sitting there, you'd know exactly what's waiting for you after the game."
Joe's eyes rolled back in his head as you squeezed him lightly, his hips bucking involuntarily. "I don't think I'd be able to play," he managed to murmur, his voice tight with need. "I'd spend the whole game thinking about tearing that dress off you. And I don't think I'd be the only one thinking that."
You laughed, your grip tightening on Joe's cock. "We wouldn't want that," you said, your voice a sweet purr. You sat up straight, your oiled hands sliding down your thighs to rest on Joe's. "But you can take it off me now."
He took a deep breath, his nostrils flaring with lust as he sat up and reached for the hem of the sundress. His eyes were trained on your exposed skin as he tugged the dress up over your head. He threw the thin fabric to the side, leaving you perched pretty on his lap. The ruched, bridal white string bikini you had been wearing underneath the dress contrasted beautifully against your shimmering skin.
"You're so beautiful," Joe murmured, his voice filled with awe. His eyes roamed over your body, taking in the fullness of your breasts, and the way your stomach dipped before flaring out into your hips. You leaned into him, your heart racing as his hands found the strings of your bikini top.
With a swift pull, the fabric gave way and your breasts spilled out, bouncing slightly with the movement. Joe's mouth watered as he reached out, cupping one in his hand, his thumb brushing over the hardened nipple. You gasped, arching into his touch. The coolness of the room washed over your bare skin, making you feel even more exposed and alive.
Joe's eyes never left yours as he leaned in to capture your nipple between his teeth, his tongue swirling around the sensitive bud. Your breath hitched, your hands tangling in his hair as you held him to your skin. He kissed and nipped at one peak before moving on to the other, his mouth and teeth teasing you until you were squirming in his lap.
Your hips rocked against him, your pussy slick and hot through the fabric of your bikini bottoms. Joe's cock strained against the confines of his trunks, desperate for release. He reached up, his fingers undoing the strings of your bottoms, and with a firm tug, they too gave way. Your body was laid bare before him, your skin glistening with tanning oil and the light sheen of arousal.
"Your turn," you murmured, your voice thick with desire. You pushed at Joe's shoulders, urging him to lie back on the bed. He did so willingly, his cock bobbing free as you slid his trunks down his legs. Your eyes were glued to his cock, your mouth watering at the sight of his thick, veined shaft.
Without a word, Joe lay back on the bed, his cock standing proud and eager against his stomach. You took a moment to appreciate the view, your eyes drinking in every inch of him. He was perfection personified, and you felt a thrill knowing you were the one who got to claim him.
"Let me taste you, sweetheart," Joe whispered, his voice husky with need as he maneuvered your back to fall against the crisp, white sheets. Your eyes widened in surprise but you didn't resist, your legs falling open to give him access to your slick folds. He kissed and nibbled at your inner thighs, his tongue tracing the path to your core as you squirmed with anticipation. His hands ran up the sides of your thighs, gently caressing the skin before moving them to rest on his shoulders, giving him the perfect angle to dive in.
Your breath caught in your throat as his tongue parted you, tasting your sweetness. You could feel his breath hot against your pussy, sending shivers down your spine. Joe took his time, savoring your flavor, exploring every inch of you with a hunger that made your toes curl. Your grip on the sheets tightened as Joe's tongue swirled around your clit and flattened against your folds, the pressure building until you could hardly stand it.
He knew exactly how to drive you wild. With each flick of his tongue, you felt yourself inch closer to the precipice of ecstasy. "Joe," you breathed weakly, your voice trembling with desire. "I'm gonna come."
He chuckled against you, the vibration sending a fresh wave of pleasure through your core. "That's the plan, babe," he murmured, his voice muffled by the wetness of your pussy. He picked up the pace, his tongue dancing and flicking in a way that made your hips buck and your breath hitch. You threw your head back, short, strangled breaths leaving your mouth as your eyes squeezed shut, Joe's mouth worked you into a frenzy.
The room filled with the sound of your moans and the wet, sloppy noises of Joe's enthusiastic indulgence mixing in with your glistening arousal. He was relentless, his tongue probing and lapping until you were sure you couldn't take anymore. You felt your orgasm building, a coil of tension in your belly that grew tighter and tighter with each pass of his tongue.
"Oh god, Joe," you panted, your hips rising to meet his mouth. Your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, grinding your pussy against his face. His hands gripped your thighs, holding you in place as he feasted on your sweetness. You could feel the pressure building, the heat coiling in your core, ready to explode.
And then it did. With a moan that echoed through the villa, your body convulsed as waves of pleasure washed over you. Your muscles tightened around Joe's tongue, your juices flooding his mouth as you came harder than you ever had before. Joe groaned in satisfaction, his own arousal reaching new heights as he drank you in. He didn't stop until you were trembling and panting, your body a puddle of boneless bliss beneath him.
Your eyes slowly opened, and you looked down at Joe, your face warm and your chest heaving. "Damn, baby," you breathed, a lazy smile playing on your lips. "I knew you were a munch but that was… wow."
Joe looked up at you with a grin, his face shiny with her arousal. "I was face first in my wife's pussy, couldn't help it," he said, his voice filled with a cocky confidence that made your heart race even faster. He kissed his way back up your body, leaving a trail of heat and wetness in his wake. When he reached your mouth, you tasted yourself on his lips, a heady mix of salt and sweet that only heightened your desire.
Your kiss grew more intense, your tongues dancing together in a rhythm that mirrored the pulsing need between your legs. Joe reached up, cupping your breasts in his hands, his thumbs playing with your still-sensitive nipples. You moaned into his mouth, your hips lifting to meet his.
"Face the mirror, gonna take you from the back," Joe murmured against your neck, his breath hot and ragged. You eagerly complied, turning to face the mirror and scooting closer to the edge of the bed. Your heart thundered in your chest as you watched Joe's reflection, his muscles rippling as he moved behind you.
He slid his hand down your spine, sending shivers through your body, and gripped your waist, pulling you closer to his body. You felt the tip of his cock at your entrance, and you couldn't help but whimper with anticipation. The position was rare for you two, usually reserved for moments when Joe was feeling particularly possessive. Your eyes locked onto his in the mirror, and you watched as he lined himself up, his hand guiding his shaft to your awaiting heat.
With one smooth, powerful thrust, he filled you, making you moan out with a mix of pleasure and surprise. The angle was new, and it hit you in just the right way, making your pussy clench around him. Joe groaned, his eyes rolling back in his head as he took in the sight of his cock disappearing into your wetness. Your body was a work of art, and he couldn't get enough of watching you react to his touch.
He began to move, his hips sliding in and out of you with a rhythm that grew more intense with each stroke. Your breasts bounced with the motion, your hands straining to grip the sheets as you watched Joe's reflection in the mirror. His eyes were hooded with desire, his teeth bared in a feral grimace as he claimed your body.
Your walls stretched around him, your body adjusting to the new sensation of being taken from behind. Your breaths grew shorter, your moans growing louder with each thrust. Joe's grip on your waist tightened, his strokes deep and demanding as he watched you in the mirror. The sight of your face contorted in pleasure, your dark hair splayed across the pillows, and your body writhing under his, only spurred him on.
"You like that?" he growled, his voice low and possessive. You could only nod, your mouth forming silent words as you struggled to keep up with the overwhelming sensations. Joe's hand reached around to find your clit, his thumb pressing down in a steady, insistent rhythm that matched his thrusts.
"Yes, Joey, I fucking love it," you gasped, your eyes watching him move in the mirror. Your voice was a mix of desperation and pleasure, the words barely recognizable through your moans. His thumb circled your clit, applying just the right amount of pressure to send sparks of sensation through your body.
"I'm so lucky to have you," Joe murmured, your eyes glazed with pleasure as Joe's cock filled you completely. His hand slid down to cup your ass, his fingers digging in as he pulled you back into each thrust. The angle was exquisite, hitting all the right spots, and you knew this was going to be one of those moments that would be forever etched into your mind.
"You're everything I've ever wanted," you managed to pant, your body jolting with each impact of his hips slamming into you. Your inner walls quivered around him, your pussy greedily sucking him in deeper.
"I promise I'll spend every day of the rest of our lives making you feel like this," Joe groaned, his words punctuated by his relentless pounding. You could feel the tension coiling tighter within you, the promise of another earth-shattering orgasm just out of reach.
Your eyes remained locked with his in the mirror, the connection between you two more intense than ever. Your breathing grew ragged, your moans echoing off the walls as Joe picked up his pace. Each thrust was deeper, harder, more demanding, and you could feel yourself climbing toward the peak.
Suddenly, Joe leaned forward, his chest pressing against your back as one arm wrapped around your waist, holding you tightly against him. The other arm fell forward, caging your body in as his hand settled over yours, fingers intertwined, rings nudging against each other. Your chest collapsed, your nipples tightening as you grazed the coolness of the mattress. He whispered sweet, dirty nothings into your ear, his breath hot and ragged, sending shivers down your spine.
"I want to see you come, baby," Joe panted, his thrusts growing more erratic. "Go ahead, baby. Let go for me."
You felt your orgasm building, the pressure in your core growing stronger with each word. Your eyes squeezed shut as you tried to hold back the inevitable. But Joe's touch was too much. He knew just what you needed, and as his thumb circled your clit faster and his cock pounded into you harder, you couldn't resist anymore.
Your body tightened around him, your muscles clenching as you came, your walls pulsing with pleasure. You whimpered his name weakly, your body bucking wildly under his. Joe's eyes watched as you lost control, feeling your pussy grip him as you spilled over the edge. His own orgasm followed close behind, his cum spurting into you with a force that made you both groan.
Your bodies remained connected for a moment, both panting heavily, the sound of your mingled breaths the only noise in the quiet room. You felt Joe's cock soften inside you, and you leaned back into his chest, your body still trembling from the intensity of your lovemaking.
"I don't know if I can move," you murmured, your voice shaky with the aftermath of pleasure. Joe chuckled, kissing your shoulder before gently withdrawing and rolling over to your side. He pulled you close, wrapping his arms around your waist as you both stared at your reflections in the mirror.
"I love you so much, you know that?" Joe murmured into your ear, his breath still coming in pants as he held you close. Your head rested on his chest, your breathing finally starting to even out. You nodded, a content smile playing on your lips.
"I would hope so, you married me last week. You better love me," you replied, your voice teasing but filled with affection as you cuddled closer to Joe, your hand resting on his chest. You could feel the steady thump of his heart, a reminder of the passion you just shared.
The two of you lay there for a few moments, the sweat cooling on your bodies as the tropical breeze gently caressed your skin. You turned your head, your eyes meeting Joe's in the mirror. His gaze was warm, a soft smile playing on his lips as he stroked your hair.
"I think that's only the second time we've had sex in this bed," Joe said, his voice a low rumble against your ear.
You chuckled, your eyes fluttering shut as you nestled into his warmth. "It's not my fault you can't keep it in your pants long enough to make it to the bed, Burrow," you teased, feeling the warmth of his skin against your cheek.
"What's the point of a villa on a quiet island if we're not going to use every surface?" Joe replied with a smirk, his fingers tracing lazy circles into the skin of your lower back. You laughed, the sound vibrating against his chest as you rolled over to face him fully. His cock twitched helplessly as he watched you, the sight of your sated smile and glowing skin making him want you all over again.
But he knew you needed a break. And so, you lay together, your bodies entwined in a mess of limbs and damp sheets. Your hand found its way to his chest, playing with the light dusting of hair that trailed down to his stomach. You traced the path with your fingertip, watching his abs contract with each breath he took.
"What do you think your love language is?" you asked, your voice lazy and content. You traced the contours of Joe's chest with your finger, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your touch.
Joe smiled, his hand moving downward to squeeze your ass playfully. "I'd say my love language is definitely making you happy, especially when it involves me fucking you just the way you like it," he said, his voice filled with pride. You snorted, swatting his chest lightly. "Okay, in all seriousness, I think it's quality time. Nothing makes me happier than being close to you."
Your expression softened, your eyes shining with affection. "Mine's definitely words of affirmation," you murmured, your hand sliding up to caress his cheek. "I love it when you tell me how much you love me, how beautiful I am, how you chose me."
Joe leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "I'll never run out of ways to tell you that," he promised, his thumb brushing your lower lip. "I guess I like that too. Hearing that I'm doing right by you. That you're happy. That I'm enough."
You felt a warmth spread through your chest at his vulnerable admission. "You are," you said, your voice firm. "More than enough. And I'll never get tired of telling you that." You leaned in to kiss him softly, the sweetness of the moment lingering between the two of you as your bodies settled.
"You wanna know something cool?" Joe hummed, pulling away from the kiss with a playful grin. You hummed in question, your eyes beginning to hood from the sleepiness that was slowly creeping in. "I'm your husband," he whispered, his voice filled with wonder and a hint of disbelief.
"I'm aware," you said with a roll of your eyes, though the smile on your face gave away the joy you felt at the reminder. "But you know what's even cooler than that?"
"What's cooler than being your husband?" Joe asked, his grin widening as he propped himself up on an elbow. His eyes searched yours, eager to hear your response.
"Cooler than that?" you teased, your voice playful. "I'm your wife. That's pretty cool."
Joe chuckled, his hand sliding up to squeeze your hand. "I guess it's a tie then," he conceded. Your smile grew as you watched the love dance in Joe's eyes, feeling it deep in your soul. You were married, and it was still so surreal. The last week had been a whirlwind of emotions, but this moment right here, with Joe's arms around you and the sound of your mingled breaths, was pure bliss.
The room was quiet except for the distant sound of waves crashing against the shore. Your eyes grew heavy, the exhaustion of the day catching up to you. You snuggled impossibly closer to Joe, your head resting on his chest, listening to the steady thump of his heart. He was your home, your sanctuary, and you never wanted to leave this tropical paradise.
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astraystayyh · 11 months ago
Text
pieces of you
single dad!chan. x fem!reader
genre : neighbors!au. fluff. angst. slow burn. mutual pining. 8.7k wc
summary : In which you and chan are each other's missing pieces. Alternatively, Chris and his daughter come knocking at your apartment asking for flour, and he's no longer embarrassed when you open the door.
a.n. : my chris best girl dad agenda is going strong!!!!!! my second fic for the winter falls collab with my writer xi hehe i hope you will all enjoy reading!! feedback is highly appreciated 🤍 the song chris will write for sowon is light by sleeping at last, highly recommend listening to it!!
winter falls masterlist.
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i. 
“I can’t believe you’re making me do this.”
“Shh, daddy smile.”
Soft murmurs linger just beyond your door, elusive words that could easily be dismissed as figments of your imagination. However, any doubt in your mind dissipates with three resounding knocks, jolting you from your momentary contemplation. 
A reluctant groan escapes you as you glance down at your attire—a loosely hanging oversized hoodie, a testament to the numerous times it has been tugged down, and a pair of pajama pants whose matching top has mysteriously vanished. Clearly, you don't feel presentable enough to welcome anyone at this late hour. So, you remain motionless, futilely lowering the TV volume in hopes that whoever's behind the door will just continue with their night. But the knocks persist against your wish, so, with a resigned sigh, you rise from your seat, your blanket cascading to the ground in a soft descent.
“What–” the words dissolve in your mouth like a sweet nectar as you open the door, your eyes beholding no one in your periphery. A slight tug at your pants draws your attention downward, only to find the most adorable child your eyes have ever laid on. She's clad in Rapunzel-themed pajamas, wolf slippers bumping into your plain ones, and, to your surprise, a whisk cradled in her small hand. 
“Hey there,” your voice softens as you crouch to meet her warm gaze. You find an innocent happiness gleaming in her eyes, a radiant spark shining even beneath the corridor's muted light. Two dimples adorn her cheeks as she smiles at you. 
“Hi, my dad wants to tell you something,” she says, pointing with her whisk to the very end of the hallway. You crane your neck, trying to catch a glimpse of the elusive figure. 
“Your dad?”
“Mm. He’s a bit shy, that’s why he’s hiding,” she confides in a whisper. But, despite her earnest attempt, her words still resound loudly in the vacant space, causing giggles to spill out of your mouth. 
“And you aren’t shy?” you inquire, tilting your head. 
“Nu-uh,” she shakes her head with conviction as someone emerges behind her. She instinctively wraps an arm around their leg, nestling her cheek against their thigh. 
She isn't shy because she feels protected.
You rise from your place, eyes locking with a familiar shade of brown. Only these hold a mesmerizing quality to them making your very breath catch in your throat. Kindness pours from his gaze as it travels down your face, a sentiment that further materializes as delicate smile lines stitch around the corner of his eyes.  
He’s beautiful. 
Your eyes trail down to two pairs of dimples, mirroring the ones of his daughter perfectly. She is his living portrait, sharing his eyes, lips, and smile. Yet, his cheeks blush in a hue she does not possess, while his left hand fiddles with his earlobe, in an unspoken, timid gesture. For some odd reason, it pierces straight through your heart.
“Sorry for bothering you,” a smooth Australian accent rolls off his tongue, similar to rich butter spread on warm bread- it infuses your being with tingles pulsating from the base of your toes. You suddenly no longer miss your blanket.
“I'm your next-door neighbor. We were just making cookies and we realized we actually  don’t have flour,” he explains, a bashful smile imprinted onto his lips. 
“You didn’t check beforehand?” you ask, laughter tinting your voice. 
“I forgot,” he admits, but his tone sounds almost sad as if beating himself over it. A fleeting shadow veils his face briefly, dissipating like a passing cloud grazing the sun.
“Can we borrow some from you? I told Sowon that we could go to the store but she said it’s too cold out,” he asks, his hand resting on his daughter’s shoulder soothingly. 
“It is too cold out,” you agree with a frown, looking down at Sowon to which she smiles brightly, happy to have your support. 
“And of course, I'll bring you flour. Don’t worry about it. Do you want to come in meanwhile?”
“It's okay, we'll wait here. Don’t want to intrude.” 
“Thank you!” Sowon beams, her missing tooth in full display. 
“Yeah, thank you so much…” he trails out, tilting his head as if to silently inquire about your name.
“Yn. And you?”
“Chris.”
“Nice to meet you, Chris,” you smile, shaking his extended hand. His fingers wrap around your palm, and it feels as if you’re grasping thunder, crackling with an electricity that your eyes can’t behold, yet your soul does, suddenly illuminated from within. 
Your smile grows as you detach yourself from his hold, before bending forward to bop Sowon’s nose. “And nice to meet you too Rapunzel.” 
Your words make her hide behind her father’s leg, peeking out slightly to look at you. 
“See I'm not the only one who gets shy,” Chan chuckles, and Sowon whines in complaint, further burying her face in her dad’s grey sweatpants. 
Adorable, so much it stirs a long-forgotten melancholy within your being. 
“She gets a pass, she's still young, right Sowon?”
“Are you calling me old then?” Chan fakes outrage, bringing one hand to his chest while the other cradles Sowon’s back. 
“Old enough to forget about flour,” you wink and he laughs, looking down at your slippers. 
“Touché.” 
A few minutes go by before you come back, a recipient full of flour in your hands. The sight before you makes you pause in your tracks– Chris, leaning against the wall, Sowon propped on his hip, her arms loosely hanging around his neck, her eyes closed. 
“Did she…” you whisper and he turns to you. 
“Yeah, fell asleep,” he smiles fondly, tucking a few strands of her hair behind the curve of her ear. “She’ll be disappointed when she wakes up to no cookies. She wanted us to have a baking holiday tradition.”
“You don’t know how to make them?” 
“No, I was counting on a six-year-old to assist me,” he chuckles quietly, prompting a snort from you. 
“Well, keep the flour, in case you need it again.” 
“Thank you, Yn,” he grins, the smile taking over his entire face, grabbing the recipient from you. 
“You’re welcome Chris,” you say, as you both linger around the door still, not making any attempt to move. 
Your eyes refuse to peel away from his, as if there were a magnetic force drawing you to him, telling you that your gaze belonged to rest on him.
“Uhm,” he clears his throat, leaning away from the wall. “I'll get going.”
“Yeah, sleep well, Chris.”
“Thank you,” he smiles before turning around. 
An idea brews in your head, a germ sprouted by the clear adoration in which Sowon gazed at her dad, and the disappointment in his face as he said he would no longer be making cookies. Had you wished to dig a little deeper, you would’ve also found a long-buried feeling of a little girl who would have loved holiday traditions as well. You close the door before heading straight to your kitchen. 
One hour later 
You knock softly on Chris’ door, fidgeting from one foot to another. You almost retract back to your apartment after your fourth knock, when the door finally opens, Chris coming into your line of sight. 
“Hi,” you greet, hands behind your back. 
“Hey,” he smiles, leaning his arm on the doorway, right above your head. He tilts his head to the side, silently wondering what you want. The words dissolve in your mouth at the way his eyes fixate on you as if trying to peer behind your irises onto your mind. 
“Cookies,” you bring the plate before him, as his eyes grow wide, an incredulous smile drawn on his lips. 
“You made them?” 
“Yeah, didn't want Sowon to be disappointed,” you shrug and his eyes grow wild, racking all over your face in disbelief. 
“You didn't have to do this,” he finally says, tone softening, syllables ringing like a sweet sonnet in your ears. 
“I know. I wanted to. and I'm a baker so making cookies comes easily to me, don't worry about it,” you shrug sheepishly, biting your lower lip slightly. You felt scrutinized by him in ways you haven't felt before. 
“Thank you, Yn, I don’t even know what to say,” he says, his smile resembling a beam of light. A surge of pride courses through you at managing to bring it forth. 
“No need to say anything. I hope I didn't wake you up,” you smile sheepishly and he shakes his head. 
“No, I- I was working in my studio and Sowon is asleep. It's just us two. Always has been,” he adds, tone slightly changing, air growing heavier between you both. It's just them two. 
“Studio?” you inquire, hoping to dispel the tension latching around you both. 
“I'm a music producer,” he clarifies. “I made a studio here so I could stay the night with Sowon.” 
“I'm sure she appreciates that,” you say as you hand the plate to him. His fingertips brush against your own, and a slight electricity courses through you at the touch, the hallway suddenly brighter from the fireworks ricocheting off of you both.
“I…. I'll get going.”
“Yeah, yeah, don't want to take more of your time.”
“I'll see you around.” 
“Yeah, I'll see you,” he says, words not ringing carelessly into the air, sounding more like a promise. He'll see you, he'll make sure of it. 
ii. 
“Can you wait!” a voice echoes near the building entrance, and you prevent the elevator doors from closing as hurried steps near you. 
You recognize the voice easily by the light tingles running down your spine, the Australian accent shooting straight through your heart. Its owner materializes, Chris— leather jacket hugging his muscles snuggly, black t-shirt tucked into a pair of blue jeans, cap nestled on his head, rebellious strands of ebony hair peeking behind it.
You find the breath knocked out of you once again at his sight. He's beautiful, even more so in broad daylight, where every feature of his comes to life, beckoning, demanding your sole attention. 
“Hey, Yn,” he smiles in delight, uttering your name in a familiarity that infuses your being with warmth. Even though you've only talked once, two days ago. 
“Hey, Chris,” you greet back, pressing the fourth elevator button again. you face the mirror to find Chris already looking at you, his eyes instantly locking with yours. 
“The cookies were good,” he smiles softly and you grin. “I'm glad you think so.” 
“Where is your bakery? I need to taste more of your baking.” 
The butterflies in your stomach tone down at his words, your attraction momentarily forgotten as gratitude coats your heart instead.
“I can text you the address?” you propose. 
“Yeah, here,” he takes out his phone, a picture of him and Sowon set as his lock screen— their cheeks are pressed tightly to one another, messily done eyeliner on both their eyes. you giggle to yourself as you grab the device.
“Cute picture,” you muse and he brings an arm to his neck, scratching the side of it timidly. 
“She insists on trying her makeup on me.” 
“She makes you look better,” you giggle and he rolls his eyes, tongue poking against his cheek. 
“She wants to become a stylist,” he explains, as the elevator doors open. He lets you out first, arm stretched forward.
“I find her passion really cute so I buy her anything she asks for,” he shrugs and you chuckle, pointing to the bag of pink ribbons he is carrying. 
“Let me guess, she wants to use these on you?”
“Yeah. She also said that I quote ‘need to learn new hairstyles because her friends always come to class with intricate braids, and she can't go to class with a simple one.’” He repeats, tone growing slightly high-pitched as he mimics his daughter's words. Yet, the fond smile on his face is louder, screaming of his love for her. 
“She has you wrapped around your finger,” you muse, leaning against your door. The keys in your bag are long forgotten. 
“She can be very scary for such a little girl.” 
“What does she threaten you with?” you ask, feigning horror. 
“No goodnight kisses,” he whispers, as if scared she'd hear him beyond the wooden door. 
“Torture,” you gasp, placing your hand on his shoulder reassuringly. Yet, the smiles slip out of your face instantly. Was it normal for clothes to dissolve under your touch, layers of cotton and leather doing nothing to stop the warmth of his skin from seeping through you? Was it normal to be so affected by such an innocent touch? 
“Uhm,” you clear your throat, “I can help you. with her hair, I mean.” 
“You don't have to. I already took too much from your time with the cookies,” he seems truly apologetic, his tone sobering as if despising others doing things for him. You see yourself in him, in the way he wants to carry the world’s burden on his shoulders. It is a reflection you wish to mend. 
“I don't mind, I remember feeling jealous of the other girls in my school so I made myself learn all the braids.” 
And then you see his gratefulness, the twinkle in his eyes that you can only grasp for a millisecond before they disappear into moon crescents. Happiness looks grand on him, overtaking his entire face, brightening his features with a glow too ethereal to be of mankind, as if they were carved to translate joy. You find yourself willing to give up more of your time to see it.
“Thank you,” he breathes out and you nod, a grin taking over your face as well. 
“You’re welcome. Let me just change my clothes.” 
☃︎⋆꙳•❅
“And then, you pull the right strand all over to the middle one. Then you repeat, this way the ribbon is braided into the hair,” you explain to a very concentrated Chris, his eyebrows furrowed as he follows your movements. 
“It looks easy when you do it,” he frowns and you giggle, handing the mirror to Sowon so she'd be able to look at her hair. 
“Do you like it,” you ask, a tad apprehensive and she beams, dimples that almost swallow her chubby cheeks surging forth. 
“Pretty!” she exclaims and you giggle, bopping her nose. “You are pretty.”
“And you are pretty too. right, daddy?”
You turn back to find Chris watching you, a smile so fond on his face that it renders your insides putty, coats your cheek in the palest shade of pink.
“Very much so,” he says, tone quieter, his eyes never leaving yours. 
Sowon suddenly climbs on her dad’s lap, star and moon stickers in hand. She places them all over his face, and he sits there diligently, arms wrapped around her midriff so she won't slip away. Every carefully placed sticker is punctuated by a soft gasp from him and a small giggle from her. You could feel the love radiating from both of them, a feeling so strong it made your heart twist in your chest. 
Were there red neon exits you weren’t aware of in your being? Ones through which love trickled away all these years ago? Were the spaces between your fingers carved to hold someone’s hand, or to make everything you've ever wanted slip from your grasp?
“What do you think?” Sowon startles you and you force a smile on your face, willing the heaviness in your heart to dissipate. There were questions you'd never find the answers to, you had to make peace with that.
“I love it!” you grin and Sowon nods, satisfied. You look down at your lap as Chris fixates his eyes on you, a worried crease growing between his eyebrows. 
“Fun is over, you need to do your homework, Miss Bang,” he scolds and you snort, as Sowon rolls her eyes slightly. 
“Did you just roll your eyes at me?” he fakes offense and you giggle as Sowon huffs slightly. “Dad, I told you I have no homework. I already did it with uncle Felix.” 
“Oh, right,” he deflates slightly before brightening up once again, “then, you should put away all these hairbrushes and ribbons, okay?”
“Will you watch a movie later with me?”
“Of course, baby.”
“Okay then,” she grins, quickly standing up to start putting away her things. you smile, getting up your turn to leave. Chris understands and stands with you on cue. 
“You can stay and watch the movie with us.”
“It's okay, I have some things to work on,” you turn around, but then you feel his fingers wrapping around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. 
“Are you okay?” he asks, hand still burning straight through your skin, igniting a million nerve ends with a simple touch. You avoid his eyes, looking down at the ground. It seems to be response enough for him. 
“We’re conditioned to say yes even when we aren’t, right?” he speaks softly, his words travel through your veins in a rapid course against the current of your blood— which one will reach your heart first and flood it? 
Your facade cracks. His voice wins. 
“So, you don't have to reply now,” his thumb swipes once across your pulse. “But I'll be here if you ever wish to tell the truth.” 
iii.
You’ve grown exceptionally fond of Chris in the span of mere months, more than you would like to admit to yourself. It was an easy task, as natural as the current of a waterfall. Yet, you did not plan for it, for a new emotion to settle on top of your lungs, to make you more aware of your heart and how it beats, slightly faster, around Chris. But it happened serendipitously, against all odds, when he knocked on your door at 10 p.m. asking for salt.
“Should I start buying groceries for you?” you joked, and it took Chris a millisecond longer to respond, his gaze wandering across your face, as if discovering the world’s eighth wonder, hidden in plain sight all these years. 
“For my defense, I have a daughter that likes experimenting with cooking,” he smiled, and you raised an eyebrow at him. 
“Just with salt?”
“She added four teaspoons of it in an omelet. Then forced me to eat it because I always tell her food shouldn't go to waste,” he shudders at the memory and you chuckle loudly. 
Chris knocks on the doors of your heart, once.
It happened when you spotted a cockroach the size of your palm on your bedroom wall. You would’ve killed it, you were going to, except it started flying towards you and you let out a loud shriek you didn’t know your vocal chords were capable of conjuring. So, you called Chris. 
“Can you please come over,” you murmured, crouching near the entrance door, a pair of slippers in your hand.
“Why are you whispering? are you okay?” he sounded worried, and you heard the turning of a lock as he opened the door to his apartment. He didn’t ask questions, instantly coming to your aid. A sudden urge to weep filled your being at his gesture. 
“There is a cockroach. a flying one,” you precised, horror dripping from your tongue and his laugh flooded your ear, tiny squeaks that made your hold on the slipper grow limp. 
“I'm from Australia,” he knocked on your door, and you stood up promptly. “I've seen worse,” he said once you finally opened it, his eyes softening incredibly when they met yours. 
He did kill the cockroach, by spraying your insect repellent enough times to asphyxiate you too. “I don't think I can sleep in there tonight,” you sighed, gulping down ice cold water, “why does it feel like we went through war?” 
“We? You were behind my back all the time.”
 “I was cheering you on, from afar. Spiritually.”
 “I can’t believe a cockroach scares you this much.”
 “You literally screamed when it flied towards you too.”
 “I didn't scream! I made a very manly, non-terrified sound.”
 “Mm, sure,” you giggled, voice softening at the blushing of the tip of his ears. Chris didn't have to force the door down to your heart, you willingly opened it for him. 
And after that, it was a race to find the silliest excuses to see one another. Chris suddenly taking up an inkling for baking, you manifesting a newfound interest in music, Sowon needing her makeup done for a dance, Chris visiting you in your bakery, Sowon craving your cookies and you teaching her the recipe, Chris knocking on your door and you knocking on his. The same giddy smiles on your faces as you usher each other in. And it always, always ending with a movie night. 
“Let's watch Tangled,” Sowon exclaims, clapping her hands excitedly. 
“Baby, we watched this movie for the past…” he looks at you for support. “Three,” you whisper, a bashful smile on your face. “Yeah, for the past three movie nights,” he whines slightly.
“But I love it,” she says, her pout morphing into a huge grin. “Again! Again! Again!”
“Fine,” he concedes, mouthing “save me,” from afar to you. You giggle softly while Sowon cozies up to your side, your arm naturally draping across her body while her legs stretch atop Chris’ lap, naturally, as if having you both by her side was the way things have always been. The only reality she’s ever known.
It is a fleeting fifty minutes as the three of you watch the movie, Sowon reciting excitedly the lines that she seems to remember. But then the quiet is replaced by her soft snores, her body growing light against you.
“She fell asleep,” you whisper, tapping Chris’ shoulder to catch his attention. He tilts his head to the side, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips as his eyes land on his daughter. 
“I'm sorry you have to watch the same movie every time,” he says apologetically and you shake your head. 
“I don't mind. Tangled is a good movie.” 
“Are you here just because of the movie?” he smiles, dimples peeking through. The juxtaposition between the weight of his words and the soft expression on his face makes a buzzing warmth spread through you. He’s cold and hot, in and out, yours but not. 
“What do you want me to be here for?” you throw back, squeezing his shoulder slightly. 
“The company.”
“I do find Sowon entertaining.”
“Just her?” he pouts and you giggle, tipping your head back. 
“And you too, I suppose, by extension.”
“By extension, mm,” he hums, as he gathers Sowon in his arms, freeing her from your hold. “Then I guess I shouldn't come visit you in your bakery anymore. Since you only enjoy my presence by extension.”
“So sassy,” you shout-whisper as you both walk to Sowon's bedroom, “I like your company too, idiot.” 
“Yeah?” he turns back to look at you, tone a tad bit too hopeful. He doesn’t care that he sounds eager for your approval, not when he feels as if he can only truly breathe when you're near. 
“Yeah, Chris, I really do,” you speak earnestly, and Chris bites his lower lip slightly, suddenly overwhelmed by the gentleness of your tone. Your eyes follow his action instantly. 
He lowers Sowon gently onto the bed and she stirs awake, blinking repeatedly at the both of you. “Yn,” she calls out quietly once her eyes land on yours and you kneel before her bed. Chris watches from the door entrance as Sowon cups her hand near your ear, before whispering something to you. He notices your body stiffening, your gaze fleeting to him before you relax, pressing a kiss to her cheek. 
He wishes he could freeze time, stitch this moment into his eyelids until it is the only thing he sees when he goes to sleep. Loneliness is too big of an enemy for one person to fight off, but it seems more harmless when you are near. 
Chris sees you right here, every night, not forcing your place into his family, but falling seamlessly into place. Perhaps you were the missing piece that’ll soothe the burn in his heart. Perhaps he’d let you in, even as fear paralyzes his being at the mere thought of asking you to stay. 
One week later. 
You've grown used to the knocks on your door at ungodly hours of the night, Chris seeking your company each time you both fail to fall asleep. Except this time, there is a chilling premonition in your heart as you walk to your home’s entrance, anxiety coiling like a steel ball in your throat. 
“What’s wrong?” you ask upon opening the door, locking eyes with Chris's bloodshot gaze.
“Sowon,” he heaves, tone laden with fear, so different from how he usually pronounces her name. The syllables pierce through your heart like an arrowhead dipped in alarm. 
“Sowon?” you question, peering behind him to his slightly ajar apartment door.
“Yes, she has a high fever, and it won’t come down. I tried everything, and I-I don’t know what to do anymore. She’s shaking, but I can’t—”He trembles, his quivers akin to delicate chinaware on the precipice of an earthquake, poised to shatter at your feet. You'd plunge to the ground first, anything to soften his impending collapse.  
“It’s okay,” you soothe, your voice soft as you grasp his wrist. “Let’s go see her, okay?”
“It's her first time being this sick,” he whispers, clearly distraught, one hand running through his freshly dyed blonde hair. 
“It's okay. Don’t panic, it happens. Did you give her medicine?”
“Yes, a few minutes ago,” he replies as you guide him towards her room.
“Good, it'll start working soon,” you reassure, opening the door and crouching before Sowon.
“Hey, Rapunzel,” you coo softly, and Sowon attempts to muster a smile. Her cheeks flush, eyes dim like withered petals.
“How are you feeling?” you ask, pressing your hand to her feverish forehead. You cast a wary glance at Chan, who's anxiously biting his thumb.
“Cold,” she whispers, and you nod, peeling off her blanket. “I know you are, but you have a high fever. We need to let it cool down, okay?”
“I-I’m shaking,” Sowon sighs, lower lip protruding and trembling, both from the iciness clawing at her frail being, and the tears welling in her waterline, like a cup on the brink of overflowing. 
“Shh, don't cry. It will pass, it's okay,” you murmur soothingly, cradling her face on your lap, gently moving damp strands of her hair behind her ear.
“Chris, can you bring me a towel and a bowl with cold water?” you ask softly, and the man startles, painfully peeling his eyes away from his daughter, as if doing so would consign her to a dark fate.
“Sure. Sure,” he repeats, scurrying out of the room.
Sowon buries her cheek in your thigh, small hands clinging tightly to yours. You tie her hair up into a loose bun as Chan hurriedly comes back, a bassinet in his hand.
“Thank you,” you smile, as he kneels beside the bed, his hand resting on Sowon’s knee gently.
“Hey sweetheart,” he coos softly, and Sowon blinks at him, light spilling over her face. 
“Hey daddy,” she replies as you dip the towel into the water, before squeezing the fabric to remove any liquid excess. 
“You're being so strong. I love you so much my pretty girl,” he says, bringing her small hand to rest upon his cheek, bestowing a gentle kiss on her palm. 
The moment feels so intimate, so tender, that you almost feel like an intruder. You imagine this is what thorns on roses must feel like, so out of place amid delicate petals and stems. 
“I love you too,” she grins, and you remain silent, diligently wiping her face and neck with the dampened towel. You soon lose track of the number of times you've repeated this motion, but Sowon’s eyes are now closed and her body is no longer trembling. 
You rest your palm upon her forehead, a sigh of relief escaping your body as you realize that her fever has gone down noticeably- the medicine finally taking effect.
“It's better now,” you smile reassuringly and Chris’s eyes widen, irises shaking as he looks back to his daughter. 
“Will she be okay?” 
“She will be. She just needs to sleep a bit.” 
“Okay, thank you.” 
“Can we prepare her something to eat meanwhile?” 
“Mm,” he absentmindedly nods, his fingers trailing down Sowon’s features delicately, resting upon her round cheeks. 
"She looks just like you," you softly smile.
"I know," he admits, not with pride but in surrender, as if his reflection was nothing but a cursed fate. His voice tastes like ocean water, salty, acid, suffocating.
“Chris…” you trail off and he shakes his head, abruptly standing up. 
“Let's make her chicken noodle soup. She loves it,” he says and you nod. A ticking bomb resides in his veins, devoid of a countdown, leaving you unsure of when he'll finally explode. 
You get your answer soon after—it takes two minutes and thirty-three seconds for the first tear to roll down Chris’s cheek. You spot it as you retrieve carrots from the fridge, averting your gaze as Chan angrily wipes it away.
A few seconds later, five tears follow the same agonizing trail, and now the knife is shaking in Chris’s hands. He squeezes his eyes shut as if frustrated by his pain, by the emotions escaping through the cracks in his heart.
You stay silent, bringing the water to a simmer.
The clank of metal against the counter snaps your attention, and you see Chris with his head lowered down, his hands tightly clutching the counter.
Your tongue moves before you can order it to speak. 
"Chris," you call out, your hand finding its place on his back. An ugly sob escapes his lips, a raw cry unearthed from the depths of the soil where he buried his feelings, never allowing himself the grace of grieving, then moving on. 
“I'm a horrible father,” he utters so brokenly as if this idea were cemented into his head, woven into every thought of himself—an adjective that lingers like a phantom each time Sowon calls him dad.
“You're not, what are you saying?” you gently turn him around so he'd face you. But his eyes remain downcast, as if ashamed to meet your gaze. 
“I didn't know what to do. I panicked. I-I wasn't enough to help her.”
“It's okay, you can't know everything, you are trying your best-”
“No, no, no, it's not just about this!” he snaps,  despair clinging to his eyes as he finally looks at you. “It’s hard. It’s so hard to be here alone, and I- I try but it's not enough, I can't do everything and I'm not a good enough parent for her, there will a-always be something missing.” 
“You're wrong,” you say but he shakes his head in disagreement. “Chris, you're wrong,” you cradle his face, taking you both by surprise. Your thumb swipes gently underneath the skin of his eyes, wiping his cascading tears. 
“You love Sowon. And she can feel it, she can see it, she can hear it. Everyone can. A parent can't be perfect, but they should love. And you love her.” 
“What if I can't even love her enough for a father? How will I ever fill the role of two parents?” he's leaning onto your palm, hanging onto your every word. You'd sit for hours and untangle every thread of his mind if you have to, until you single out the infested one and burn it away. 
“She loves you Chris. She looks at you as if you hang every star in the sky. As if you're responsible for every good thing that happens in our world. She loves you and you love her.”
You gaze up at the ceiling, tears welling in your eyes. Chan notices the subtle tremble in your hand against his cheek.
“If I had someone who loved me as much as you love Sowon when I was a child, I would've turned out so differently,” you smile bitterly, swallowing down the lump in your throat. 
“You won't be a perfect dad. You can't be. But she won't grow up with a throbbing heart, pulsating because of a void that cannot be filled. Her veins won't be poisoned by hate and abandonment. Because she knows what it's like to be loved,” you pause, as your voice breaks, traitorous tears rolling down your cheeks. “To be cared for.” 
Your eyes hold his in a silent conversation, secretly telling him what your tongue cannot speak of— Sowon, an untarnished blossom, won't unfurl into a solitary flower the way you did.
“I'm sorry,” he whispers after a while, eyes softening in understanding. His knuckles brush gently against your cheek. 
“Why are you apologizing?” 
“So you'd find a reason within you to forgive,” he says, as he leans forward to press a tender kiss on your forehead. And somehow it feels more intimate than any way you've been touched before. 
Five days later.
chris [11:32 p.m.]: you up?
yn [11:32 p.m.]: i just got bad flashbacks to my college years
chris [11:33 p.m.]: ajaksjsbsbbs
chris [11:33 p.m.]: i didn’t mean it like that ㅠㅠ 
chris [11:33 p.m.]: wanna come over? i'm in the studio but im not feeling inspired 
yn [11:34 p.m.]: and how will i help? 
chris [11:34 p.m.]: i find your presence inspiring 
You don’t reply, instead putting on your slippers and walking over to his apartment. He opens the door before you even have the chance to knock. 
“What are you working on?” you ask once you’re settled atop his chair, spinning around slightly. He looks down at the pillow on his lap, lightly plucking its pink fur. “A song for Sowon,” he admits softly and your eyes grow a little wide. 
“That is so sweet,” you pout, inching closer to him. “How is it going?”
“I've finished the melody and now I'm working on the lyrics. There is just.. so much i want to tell her, i'm unsure if ill be able to express it well.” 
“Can I read what you wrote?” 
“Yeah. Yeah, sure,” he searches through his papers. “Here.”
May these words be the first to find your ears
The world is brighter than the sun now that you're here
I'll give you everything I have
I'll teach you everything I know
I promise I'll do better
I will soften every edge
I'll hold the world to its best
And I'll do better
Tears spring to your eyes unexpectedly, you try to stop their flow but they fall upon the paper, splattering like a broken mosaic, mimicking the brokenness of your own heart. 
“I'm sorry,” you spin around, your back to him as you attempt to dry your tears, and yet they show no desire to stop. Chris is in your heart and he’s kicking every other emotion out, forcing you to make amends with your sadness, the one you buried years, years ago. 
Chris gently grabs the back of the chair, pulling you back to him before spinning your chair once again until you are facing him. You bury your face in your hands and his rests reassuringly on your knee, squeezing it slightly. “Is it so bad it made you sob?” 
“Shut up, you know this isn’t the case.” 
His hand delicately traces up your arm, gently lifting your fingers from your face. He kneels before you, his thumb tenderly wiping away the traces of tears on your cheeks.
“Talk to me?” 
“It's so beautiful, so warm, so loving. Everything a parent should think of their child,” a traitorous hiccup escapes your lips. “Everything my parents never felt for me.” 
Chris’ mouth morphs into a pout, eyebrows scrunching tightly. You shake your head, smoothing down the worried crease between his eyes. 
“I don't feel sad over things I can't control and I love myself enough now to compensate for what I didn't have, but sometimes-'' your voice breaks, Chan’s hold on your hands tightens. “It stings to remember what could’ve been.” 
Stings was an understatement, it is rather a pulsating void, throbbing in ache every day, calling out for its missing piece. How can I fill you with what was lost when it chose to walk away? 
“Come here,” he whispers, coaxing you to your feet, his arms enveloping your body as he guides your head to the crook of his neck. His body runs warm, the material of his sweatshirt soft, and he smells nice too, the contours of his muscles tailor-made to complement the ridges of your own. 
“You grew up well, Yn. You did well.”
You clutch his shirt, tightening your grip as you fist the fabric in your palm. He's patting your back, and time slows down to match the rhythm of his touch. 
“Love can be hard, I know. Especially when the people who left are the ones supposed to be staying.” 
He understands, more than anyone you know. He missed out on a different kind of love too, two facets of the same coin. 
“You’re doing well too, Chris. You shouldn’t doubt yourself as much,” your arms trail up to encircle his neck, as his nose tickles your hair. You're the one hugging him now. “Sowon is really smart, she told me that she loves you a lot. She can feel it. She sees everything you do for her.”
“Is that what she told you that movie night?”
“Partly,” you whisper, and Chris leans away slightly, his warm palms still pressed to your waist, holding you close. 
“What else did she tell you?” he asks, curiosity barely hidden in his tone.
You pause for a while, eyes going over the entire room before finally locking on him.
“She thanked me, said that I make you smile more.” You suck in a deep breath, gathering your courage. “Do I?” 
“There are smile lines that don’t show on my face until you're near.” 
“Oh.” That is the only coherent response you can formulate, and Chris giggles, a tiny squeak escaping his lips in a huff. “Cute,” he murmurs, planting a tender kiss on your temple. His lips linger, holding onto the moment a beat longer than necessary, causing your eyes to close in delight. Both of you find yourselves blushing as he leans away, a shared warmth coloring the space between you.
“Sorry, didn't mean to make the mood somber,” you say sheepishly as you sit back down, eyeing Chris’s laptop. “I wanna hear this,” you quickly point to a random track on his screen before he can reply, hoping to make the sadness flee away.
“This one? It’s not really good, let's listen to something else,” his rambling and eagerness to change the track pique your curiosity and you quickly click on the song before he can stop you.
connected.mp3 starts playing. 
Sultry beats inundate your ears, weaving through your veins and whisking you away to the pulsating rhythm of a dance club. You knew Chris produced good music, yet you never fathomed that his voice could be so luxuriously rich, cascading over you like molten wax. You feel a blush rise to your cheeks at the suggestive lyrics, the innuendos peeking behind every word. And then, a sudden jealousy claws at your heart, at the thought of Chris hunched in his studio, fantasizing about connecting with someone who isn’t you. 
You wished to be the only one Chris liked. 
“It’s a- a demo for one of my clients,” he explains through a stutter once the song is done, and you nod meekly, willing your body’s temperature to go down, for the possessivity crinkling in you to fizzle out. 
So, you put on your best taunting smirk.
“I know you want me don’t crumble.. No need to be desperate we’re just getting started,” you sing-song back. “You were feeling so cocky when you wrote this, right?” you grin, inching your chair closer to his. “Feeling yourself, Mr. Bang?”
He chuckles with a hint of annoyance, running his tongue along the expanse of his lower lip. Leaning back into his chair, he casually spreads his legs a bit wider, a gesture that suddenly leaves you feeling dizzy, on him.
“It’s cute how affected you seem by it,” he throws nonchalantly, crossing his arms before his chest.
“I'm not,” you smile, although your erratic heartbeat spoke of a different tale, you just didn't need to voice it to him. “I think you were the one getting all hot and bothered in your studio,” you stand between his legs, hovering over him as he leans back fully in his chair. 
“I was thinking of a pretty girl.”
“Yeah?”
“Mm,” he suddenly grabs your waist, you feel like your entire body is ablaze. “The prettiest.”
"Who is she?" you exhale, teetering on the edge of crashing your lips onto his, like an incoherent love poem, hastily scrambled on a notebook in a fit of anger.
“y–” The door suddenly opens, Sowon’s small frame standing by the door, she’s rubbing her eyes tiredly, her chick plushie dangling from her hand (a gift from her uncle Felix as she explained to you). You quickly scramble away from Chris as he clears his throat loudly.
“Daddy, I can't sleep,” she says faintly, a tiny pout drawn on her lips, and you can see Chris physically melt at her words, at the way she paddles to his chair, and tries her best to climb up his legs. She fails to do so, so he quickly scopes her up his arms until she’s buried in his hold. Her small hands wound up around his neck, and he tenderly pats down her hair, his gaze never wavering from her frame.
“Want me to sing to you, sweetheart?”
“Yes,” she whispers, before making grabby hands at you, your heart softens like clay dough as you scoot closer, enclosing her fingers in your hold. 
“Sleep well, Sowonnie,” you whisper. 
“Can’t you stay with us?” she asks and you feel your blood freeze in your veins, your heart skipping three beats at once.
To stay. What a frightening concept. Even more scary when you realize that you aren’t opposed to it. 
You yearn to stay, for the first time in years, you wish you could. 
You swallow the growing lump in your throat, before smiling reassuringly. “I'll stay till you fall asleep.” 
Conditions, it is the way it has always been for you. staying till you’re no longer useful, staying till you're no longer wanted. Staying, but always with a time limit, always with an expiration date. 
iv. 
You’re avoiding him. 
Chris knows you are, since you no longer come over to his house, claiming that you’re tired, or that you have an important order to bake for the next day. He would have believed you had he not seen you only once in the past three weeks. 
Those were excuses, and each one of them weighed heavily on Chris’ heart, on his home too, his studio particularly, the one that got used to the sound of your laugh. 
He misses you. He never thought he’d miss someone again, craving you presence as if every breath leaving his body depended on you. He wasn’t a stranger to intimacy, fleeting hookups every now and then. Strangers invited him to their bed, knowing what they were signing up for– one night of pleasure, never to be seen again, their faces blurring into an indistinct mass in his mind, like an impressionist painting where no features stand out. Yet, with you, every detail is etched in his memory. 
He could pick you out of a crowded room, recognize the delicate curve of your neck, the fullness of your lips, and the way your nose scrunches when you smile.
He could draw the moles scattered on your body from memory alone, recognize your scent from miles away– your cotton shampoo and the specific laundry detergent you love to use and a hint of vanilla that never truly leaves you. 
He’d remember the curve of your lashes and the cascading of your hair, the airy giggles you leave across like a trail for him to follow everywhere, and your eyes– the way they gazed at him, softening slightly around the edges, shining brightly as if crafted from stardust, the way they softened even more when you looked at Sowon, voice growing slightly high pitched as you listened to his daughter’s rambles.
How did you manage to make his home yours without ever living in it?
“Dad?” Sowon calls out and he snaps his head up, locking eyes with his little girl. She’s sitting on a high stool, munching on her pizza, a pensive look on her face.
“Yes, sweetheart?” he asks, walking over to her side.
“Where is Ynnie?” she asks in a small voice and he freezes, mulling over his response. He settles for the truth.
“I don't know, baby.”
“Does she not want to play with me anymore?” Sowon whispers, and he doesn’t remember his daughter ever being this tentative about voicing a question. 
“No!” he's quick to reassure, cradling Sowon’s face between his much larger hands. “Of course not baby she loves you a lot.”
“Okay…” she nods, a small pout drawn on her lips still. Chris senses his heart physically crack in his chest.
“Do you wanna work in the studio with me?” he says in a joyful tone, and she instantly cheers up, the twinkle in her eyes found again. “Yes!” 
“Finish your food first, okay Wonnie?” 
“Okay!” 
In Chris's life, regrets have been scarce, and certainly not in the form of Sowon, his beacon of hope, as he named her. Having her was beholding a sun wherever he went. However, a fear lingers, a whisper in his heart, suggesting that letting you go might be his one true regret.
So when his daughter falls asleep, he knocks on your door once again. He's suddenly transported into that cold night, months ago, where he asked you for flour. Had he known you were behind it he would’ve knocked much sooner. 
“Hi,” you greet softly once you open the door. He takes a step forward, his wolf slippers matching with Sowon’s bump into your plain ones. You avert your gaze, finding anything but him to fixate on.
“You're avoiding me,” he says matter-of-factly, voice soft, resigning to you.
“I'm not,” you contradict, even as your eyes remain on the ground. He finds himself missing the color of your irises.
“Look at me, hm?” he implores, and you stay rooted in place. A soft sigh escapes him as he cradles your right cheek with his warm hand, his thumb gently sweeping across your cheekbone. “Yn, please, I want to look at you.”
Maybe it is the pleading tone of his voice or the way his thumb tenderly grazes your skin, but something about Chris makes your resolve unravel, threads of fear unknotting before your eyes. So, you finally look at him. An exhale of relief escapes him. 
And then you speak.
“You asked me if I was okay, and I didn't reply, back then,” you say, leaning your head further against his palm as tears well up in your waterline. “Do you still want to know my answer?”
“Of course, always.”
“I'm happy. With you, with sowon. I feel this warmth that I have never known before when I'm with you. It was almost easy to forget I've known you during winter,” you chuckle dryly, “but it is all an illusion, I lie to myself thinking I could stay, I… I can't, I-“
“What if I ask you to stay?” he brings your hand to his heart, where it beats erratically, pulse seeping through your skin.
He’s as scared as you are.
“Chris…”
“What if I told you, Yn, please stay with me,” he breathes out, guiding your hand to gently cup his cheek. “Would you? Would you stay?”
“I'm terrified,” you whisper, as he tilts his head, bestowing a tender kiss on your palm. 
“I know, so am I. But, you make me believe that even my bruised parts are worthy of love.”
He wins, before years of skeletons and piled up doubts, he wins. 
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
“I'm staying.”
“You are?”
“I am,” you giggle lightly and he staggers back, the sun pouring into his smile. 
“Um, wow, okay. Thank you for staying,” his voice sounds airy, happiness floating in his tone, and you find it contagious, imprinting into your own.
“Thank you for asking me to stay.”
“You made it less daunting,” he pats your head, smoothing your hair down. “I missed you.”
“I missed you too.”
He giggles in response and you can't help but mirror the sound. “Why are you so nervous?”
“Whaaat? I'm not,” his tone grows high-pitched and you roll your eyes amusedly. 
“What happened to connected Chris?” 
“He is flustered by the girl he wrote about.”
Your cheeks tint red as he places a hand above your head, caging you in place. 
“I think the girl should get paid for being the muse.”
“Oh yeah?” he smirks, “I'll think about it.” His grin softens, as a content expression washes over his face. You know you must look the same. “Let's talk more tomorrow, okay?”
“Okay,” you grin, before placing a chaste kiss on his cheek. “Good night, Chris.”
“Good night, yn.”
You quietly watch as he walks to his apartment door, his hand settling on the door knob. He pauses, for a few seconds where the air around you stills, before swiveling around and walking over to you again. 
you win. 
“I forgot something,” he breathes out, before crashing his lips onto yours, furiously, as if needing to imprint his essence onto you, tainting your soul the way you have tainted him, permanently altering the composition of his being. His lips move on yours as if they've done this before, a dance they have rehearsed countless times, perhaps in all the dreams Chris visited you in. Yet, nothing compares to how it feels to have him touch you, lick your lower lip and drag his hand up your hips, press you against your apartment door, and nibble at your neck. 
Nothing could have prepared you for the passion he shows you, for how delicious it feels to be pressed against him, for the storm that your lips conjure, swirling in your heart in vibrant shades of red. Then, for the softness of his lips as they slow down their course, plump and rosy as they meet your own, tenderly, more gently, one kiss after the other. “My hope,” he whispers, as his lips find yours again, “my missing piece.”
He’s hot and cold, in yet seeking no out, finally yours.
bonus (one year later). 
“So I brought the eggs, milk, sugar,” Chris enumerates as he takes out the groceries, and you turn to look at Sowon to find her already gazing at you, a mischievous look on her face. 
“How much do you wanna bet he forgot flour?” you whisper and she giggles, burying her face in her hands to stifle her laugh.
“And… Wait, where is the flour?” he trails off and you burst out laughing, as you and Sowon high-five each other excitedly. 
“Daddy, you are really bad at groceries.”
“Am I?” he smiles sheepishly, fiddling with his earlobe in a manner that still makes your heart melt, renders your insides butterflies speaking of Chris’ name.
“Yes, it’s good Mom bought it,” she says naturally, looking down at her iPad. You and Chris freeze in your tracks, eyes instantly locking with one another, yours and his, glossy with emotion, a loving tide enveloping you both. 
It's her first time calling you mom. 
You swallow down the lump in your throat, crafted not by thorns but by petals, not by ache but with love, before placing your chin on the small of her shoulder, murmuring softly. "Mm, will you help me bake, baby?"
“Yes! I wanna be a baker when I grow up, just like you.”
“What happened to being a stylist?”
“I can't be both?” she frowns innocently. 
“You can be anything you want, princess.” you bop her nose and she giggles, pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek. 
In the grip of winter, Chris discovers a warmth that defies the season, casting off years of cold from the recesses of his bones. A soft smile graces his lips as he gazes at you, his hopes, his girls, the three of you clad in wolf slippers.
He’ll propose to you tomorrow.
7K notes · View notes
enha-stars · 8 months ago
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✧ happy mother’s day, mamas (18+)
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Pairing: Husband!Heeseung x Pregnant!Reader
Summary: It’s mother’s day and your husband and daughter bring you breakfast in bed. They each have different ways of showing you how much they love you, their mama.
Warnings: Kissing, Mentions of Pregnancy, SMUT, minor food play, fingering, unprotected sex (don't), pregnancy kink, religious imagery, down bad heeseung, oral (f rec), degrading & praising
A/n: I wanted to post this for mother's day. but oh well. Also, this was supposed to be a drabble i have no idea how it got to be 5k.
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As the warm rays of the morning sun slipped through the parted curtains, painting the room in a soft golden glow, you stirred beneath the warm blanket. Your eyelids fluttered open, welcoming the gentle warmth that accompanied the sun’s gentle ascent into the sky. 
The room was still and quiet, save for the distant chirping of birds greeting the morning. With a contented sigh, you stretched out your limbs, yawning as the crisp sheets cradled your pregnant body. As gently as you could, you turned onto your back, reaching out to the space beside you. 
You frowned when you were met with more mattress, your husband’s warm body long gone. Grunting, you slowly sit up. One hand beside you while the other wrapped around your belly, wanting to make sure that the fetus inside didn’t feel any jerk movements. 
Back propped up against the headboard, you close your eyes as a gentle smile plays on your lips. Now that you were sitting up, you could clearly smell the wafting aroma of waffles and chicken bacon. You eye the empty space beside you and pat the cold mattress. 
You didn’t even feel Heeseung slide out of bed. Usually, you’re very in tune to him while you’re sleeping and he’s even more in harmony with you. 
Before you could dwell on how much effort it probably took him to unwrap his arms from your body and tiptoe out of the bedroom, a loud crash outside your bedroom jolts you upright. You grip the blanket as your foot twitches, subconsciously ready to approach the mess. 
You hear quiet giggles and your husband’s voice softly whispering, “It’s okay, sweetness. I’ll clean it up later.”
As the door quietly clicks open, your smile widens at the sounds of your daughter’s little huffs and your husband's noises of encouragement. You watch with wide eyes as your daughter waddles into your bedroom in her pink basketball pajamas, holding a glass of mango juice. 
Heeseung follows brightly behind her, holding a tray filled to the brim with food. His eyes travel from his daughter’s little form to you, laying in bed. He makes eye contact with your shiny, sleep-filled eyes and he watches as you visibly soften. 
His grin turns into a full blown smile as he nears closer. You look so beautiful, sitting there with your hair a bit unruly and unkempt. Your night gown is wrinkled and one of your hands is laid flat on your belly. You smile brightly at him as your eyes soak in the scene before you. 
Heeseung stands tall in his blue basketball pajama shorts that match your daughter’s. They hang lowly on his hips and his lean chest is exposed, making your cheeks warm at the sight. Your eyes travel downwards and your smile turns emotional as you watch your daughter trying to balance the glass in her hand. 
“Hi, mama,” your little girl whispers. You almost can’t control the emotions swirling in your eyes at the sight of her shiny eyes and full cheeks. She looks so much like your husband and you’re thankful for it everyday. 
“You don’t have to whisper, flower. Mama’s awake.” Heeseung grins at his little girl, finding her absolutely adorable. Dahlia was only five, so she couldn’t really see you as she stood at the foot of your bed. 
“Hi, flower,” you greet her, softly. At your voice, she giggles and walks to your side of the bed. She smiles brightly at you, her front tooth missing. You coo at her as you set the glass of mango juice on the side table and pull her up. 
“Careful, baby,” Heeseung frowns. He watches carefully as you pull your daughter into your lap, making sure you don't exert yourself. He balances the tray with one hand and grabs the foldable table before walking to your side of the bed. 
In your arms, your daughter immediately melts. Her little arms wrap around your chest and she presses her face into your shoulder. You kiss the top of her head as you rub her back. 
Ever since you found out that you were pregnant, almost five months ago, Heeseung had been encouraging Dahlia to sleep in her own bedroom. It was going really well for the most part, but some nights were harder than others. 
“Missed you, mama.” Her quiet voice mumbles against your skin. You pout at her before nuzzling your nose into her hair. “I missed you too, flower.” 
“Dahlia, sweetness, will you help me set up the table for mama?” Heeseung’s voice pulls your daughter out of your arms as she immediately nods and slides off your lap. You and Heeseung watch fondly as she quickly pulls the table legs out and sets the table over your thighs, mindful of your big belly. 
You shuffle a bit on the mattress and fix the blanket before you nod at Heeseung. He sets the tray of food on the table and steps back. He watches your reaction carefully, nervously biting his bottom lip. His eyes fall on his daughter and he bites back a smirk as she mirrors his exact expression. 
You stare at the tray in disbelief. On it, was a plate of three waffles, a smaller plate with chicken bacon strips, and a bowl of fruit. A singular pink dahlia rests in a thin vase and you pick it, bringing it to your nose. 
Heeseung watches you with a stupid smile as you sniff the flower. The dahlia was an important flower to both of you. It was the first flower he had ever picked and given to you, leading to your daughter. He, without fail, always gave you one on special occasions. 
A reminder of the incident that brought you both together. It was a reminder of the softer things in life, of your shared love. 
You set the flower back in the vase and look up at Heeseung, eyes teary as emotion renders you speechless. Your daughter sits beside you, eyes wide in anticipation. She has been incredibly excited for Mother’s Day, eating Heeseung’s ear off with different ideas. 
“I think she likes it, Dahlia,” Heeseung whispers to his daughter. He sits on the edge of the mattress, as close as he can to you. He rests a hand on the other side of your legs and stares softly at you, waiting for the rush of emotion to subside. 
“Really?” Dahlia asks, a little disappointed. “Why is Mama not saying anything?” 
You let out a breathy laugh and Heeseung is so entranced by it he almost forgets to answer his little girl. “Give her a second, flower.” He turns his head to Dahlia and smiles at her focused expression. She looks a lot like you when she is focused, or scheming. “Remember what I said about patience?” 
Dahlia sighs and solemnly nods. You laugh at her fallen expression and inch closer, curious. Heeseung was always murmuring little reminders to your daughter whenever he could. “What did papa say about patience, little flower?” 
Dahlia sits back and purses her little lips before glancing at Heeseung who stares at her with a raised eyebrow. She smiles at you sheepishly before shuffling closer to you. “Papa said I have to be more pat… patient,” she stutters. “Cuz the baby is coming.” 
You glance at Heeseung and he simply shrugs at you. You smile at her and pat the empty space next to you. She drags herself closer to you, resting her head on your arm. “Thank you for being patient for mama, Dahlia.” 
Instead of responding, she tucks her face into your side and Heeseung laughs at her shyness. With him, she was always slightly hyper. But with you, she was incredibly soft. He couldn’t blame her, of course. You were the light of their lives. 
“Thank you for breakfast, my loves.” You’re staring at Heeseung and he inches closer. He leans forward and kisses your forehead. You close your eyes in contentment and only open them when you feel your cheeks being squished. 
You open your eyes to your daughter’s hands on either side of your face and before you can say anything, she kisses you hard on the lips. You stare at her in surprise and Heeseung’s jaw falls to the floor. 
“Happy mother’s day, mama.” She pulls at your cheeks, pinching them. “I love you.” 
You try your best to smile at her given the circumstances and she giggles at your expression. She sits back beside you and Heeseung clears his throat. You see the turmoil in his eyes and pop a blueberry in your mouth. 
“Dahlia,” Heeseung says. Your daughter looks up at him curiously. “You can’t kiss mama on the lips.” 
You snort at his seriousness and immediately bite back your grin when he throws you a look. You say nothing as you gently pat your stomach and pick up a piece of bacon, taking a large bite. 
Dahlia frowns and tilts her head in the same endearing way that Heeseung does. “Why not? You kiss mama on the lips.” 
Heeseung’s frown deepens. “Yes, but I am her husband. You’re her daughter.” 
“So?” 
Heeseung blanks. She looks so much like you as she stares at him with narrowed eyes. He almost questions his entire argument when her eyes twinkle. He loves her so much. 
“So… don’t kiss her on the lips.” 
You want to laugh at his weak argument but he shoves a piece of banana into your mouth before you can. 
“Where can I kiss mama then?” 
Before Heeseung can answer, you softly grab Dahlia’s chin and turn her head towards you, afraid that your husband will start something he won’t be able to finish. As her eyes meet yours, they immediately soften and her defiance melts away. Heeseung scoffs under his breath. 
“You can kiss me anywhere except my lips. Okay, pretty flower?” 
Dahlia doesn’t even argue as she nods, accepting your words without a hitch. Heeseung laughs in disbelief as you cut a small piece of a waffle and bring it to Dahlia’s lips. She swallows eagerly and you ruffle her hair. 
You three sit in comfortable silence for a bit as you eat the food that your husband and daughter have made, feeding them as well. After a few bites, Heeseung shakes his head and simply watches as you and Dahlia eat. Syrup spills down your lips and he wipes it away with his thumb, staring darkly at you as he sucks on his finger.
He rests his hand on your belly and smiles when he feels the baby kick. He shifts closer, his heart swelling in content. 
“He’s kicking pretty early in the morning,” you say, pulling Heeseung out of his daze. 
Heeseung nods and begins rubbing your belly. You watch him, enamored. Ever since your first pregnancy, Heeseung had a habit of just touching you. His hand was always on your stomach or he was rubbing your back. 
“Can I go watch Cocomelon?” 
Heeseung blinks at Dahlia and he knows you’re about to refuse, but he wants to have you to himself. You look so beautiful, so enticing, and he wants to show his appreciation for you in another way. 
He usually can’t help himself around you, but when you’re pregnant, he loses all control. You look so ethereal as you glow, your body filling out to support another life. He was obsessed with how your belly swelled, carrying his child. 
You were already bewitching to him, but now you were divine. If anyone asked him who he prayed to, he would say your name with such care, such grace. You were making him a father again, who else could he thank besides you? 
“Sure, sweetness.” He says. “Go ahead.” 
Dahlia kisses your arm and then kisses your stomach before she kisses Heeseung’s nose. You both watch her quietly as she slides off the bed and waddles out of the bedroom, shutting the door behind her. 
You swallow and stare up at Heeseung, smiling softly at him. He moves the tray of food on the other side of you and shifts closer. His arms are on either side of you and he stares down at you like you’re the most delicious thing he’s ever seen. 
“Good morning, baby.” 
You laugh and lean back into the headboard. “Morning, Seung.” You lift your hand and cup his cheek, smiling softly when he leans into your touch. 
“How are you this fine morning, beautiful?” 
There’s a glint in his eyes but you can see the curiosity swimming in them as well. He wants to make sure you’re okay. That you aren’t uncomfortable, that the baby hasn’t been bothering you. He’s always thinking about you. Well, you, the baby boy you’re carrying, and his baby girl. 
“I’m doing amazing,” you tell him, honestly. “Seriously. You didn’t have to do any of this.”
“This is nothing,” he tells you. “You should have heard some of Dahlia’s ideas. She’s just as imaginative as you.” You grin at his teasing but then his eyes soften and he laces your hands together. “You know I’d give you the world, mamas.” 
You squeeze his hand three times, unable to respond. When Dahlia was born, Heeseung began calling you ‘mama’ so she would pick it up. Whenever he said it around her, it warmed your heart.
When he said it like this, all low and enticingly, it made your insides flip inside out. It was different, because when he said it like this, it was like he wanted to make you a mama, again. 
“I know,” you whisper. You bring his hand to your lips and kiss his knuckles.
Heeseung wants to do unspeakable things to you but he glances at the plate and realizes you haven’t eaten enough. He leans forward and presses his lips softly against yours, humming at the sweetness of the syrup and the savoury flavour of the bacon on your lips. 
He pulls away too soon and pulls the tray closer to you. He leans back and you watch as he cuts a piece of waffle and bacon, making a proper bite before lifting it to your lips. You blink at him and he parts his lips. “Say ah, baby.” 
You roll your eyes but let him feed you anyways. Heeseung smiles at you when you chew slowly, glad that your nausea hasn’t been acting up. He was a bit anxious about it but Dahlia had been very insistent and he was a weak man. 
Heeseung makes another bite for you and like the obedient little wife you are, you open your mouth. A bit of syrup spills from the waffle and drips down your collarbones. Before you could even think of wiping it, Heeseung leans down and licks it off your skin. 
You shiver when his tongue makes contact with your cool skin. He licks the sticky syrup from your body and then presses open mouth kisses to your collarbones. You sigh, eyes shutting, as Heeseung licks and sucks your skin. 
His kisses travel up your neck, nibbling and biting. He presses a wet kiss to your jaw and pulls away, eyes ablaze. You’re slightly panting as you squeeze your thighs shut. Heeseung tilts his head and brushes his nose against yours. Your hands are on his shoulders, running up and down his bare chest.
“Seung, aren’t you hungry?” You’re slightly out of breath, and his closeness isn’t helping. You can’t help but feel a little guilty. He woke up early to make you breakfast and he has yet to eat anything.
Heeseung shakes his head and his lips curve upwards into a menacing smirk. “I just want you.” 
You hear the double meaning in his voice, you can feel it against your skin with the way he was looking at you. He made you feel beautiful, like the stretching of your skin and swollen feet meant nothing to him.
“You have me.” 
Heeseung’s lips hover above your own. “Any way I want?” 
You tilt your chin upwards and press your lips against his in a short kiss. “However you want.” 
Grinning, Heeseung pushes himself back and stands up. You blink at his sudden movements and watch as he lifts the tray and table. He folds the table and sets it against the wall and then makes his way to the door. 
He turns back to you and grins at you in a way that reminds you of high school and janitor closets. “I hope you’re ready, baby.” You watch him leave your bedroom with heated eyes, instantly shifting further on the bed. 
Heeseung walks down the hallway and into the kitchen. He sets the tray down on the counter and fills a pink sippy cup with water. Twisting the lit on, he quietly walks into the family room, eyes falling on his daughter laying on her stomach on the couch. 
“Dahlia, flower, you shouldn’t lay on your stomach.” At her father’s voice, Dahlia instantly sits up and smiles brightly at him. She sits properly and pats the seat next to her. 
“Papa, sit with me.” 
Heeseung’s eyes soften and he feels a little guilty, but his wife is waiting patiently for him in bed so he doesn’t dwell on the guilt for too long. He kisses Dahlia on the head and hands her the cup. Instantly, she brings the chewed straw to her lips. 
“Sorry, sweetness. Mama isn’t feeling too well so I’m gonna lay with her for a bit, okay?” Heeseung winces as Dahlia’s eyes widen in concern and before she could bolt down the hall, he pinches her cheek. “She ate too much and now she wants to nap. You know she has to nap, right?”
Dahlia nods, water dripping from her chin. “Cuz of the baby, right?”
Heesueng nods, a surge of love making his heart swell. “Exactly. And you’re not a baby anymore, right?” 
Instantly, Dahlia shakes her head, almost looking offended at such accusations. “No! I’m a big girl.” 
Heeseung scoops her up and laughs when she giggles, fauxing thrashing her arms. He nuzzles his nose into her stomach, heart content as she laughs loudly. “You are a big girl now, flower. Which means you’ll knock and only enter when we give permission, right?” 
Still laughing, Dahlia nods aggressively. Confident in himself and her, he kisses her entire face before setting her back down on the couch. As the next Cocomelon song plays, Dahlia loses interest in her father. 
Heeseung stares down at her for a few seconds before slipping away. He doesn’t know how he got here. He’s not sure who he saved in his past life, but he’s grateful for it. He never would have thought that he’d be this happy and content, but he’s immensely thankful. 
He quietly twists the door open and slips into the bedroom, locking the door. At the sound, you look up from your phone, instantly setting it down. Heeseung leans against the door, staring at you. You look so heavenly, laying there just waiting to be ravished by him.
You feel small under his eyes and given the circumstances, it’s ironic. He stands there in nothing but blue shorts and yet, he’s the most handsome man you’ve ever seen. His hair is all tousled and he looks delicious. 
Slowly, Heeseung walks towards you. His eyes are dark with something familiar and you can feel the heat of his gaze affect you. You watch with shallow breaths as he reaches the foot of your shared bed. He falls onto the mattress and crawls to you, tongue sliding across his bottom lip. 
When he reaches you, he slots his leg between yours and settles his arms on either side of you. His breathing is almost as erratic as yours and you waste no time as you pull him into a heated kiss, arms wrapping around his neck. 
Your lips pressed against his as you kissed him roughly, tired of the soft and safe kisses you both had shared the entire morning. Heeseung tilts his head and further deepens the kiss, slipping his tongue into your mouth. Tongues, teeth, and lips crash together in perfect harmony. 
Heeseung’s knee rubs against your bare core as he presses himself further into you. Your hands travel up and down his back before you run a hand through his hair, pulling the long strands unconsciously. 
Heeseung moans into the kiss and you swallow it, tracing his bottom lip with your tongue. He kisses you roughly before pulling away, immediately kissing down your jaw to your neck. His teeth graze your skin as he nibbles and sucks, and your head falls back, giving him more access. 
With perfected practice, he kisses down your body. He shifts himself slightly back as he kisses down your clothed breasts, sucking and biting through the flimsy material. You whimper when his tongue pokes and prods your sensitive nipples. He quickly unbuttons your gown and kisses your exposed breasts, tongue swirling against your hardened nipples.
He kisses down your stomach, gentle as continues to unbutton your gown. He covers your entire covered belly with kisses and soft praises. He continues downward and unbuttons the last few buttons, leaving you bare and exposed to him. “So fucking pretty,” he mumbles. 
You look so beautiful like this he almost can’t take it. Instead, he kisses down your stomach until he’s reached your pussy. He lays on his stomach and looks up at you. You can only see him because you’re propped up on the headboard, but the sight of your husband between your legs isn't one you want to ever miss. 
Gently, Heeseung lifts each of your legs and places them a bit farther, forcing you to open yourself for him. He leans in and presses his nose against your cunt. Your hips jerk upwards at the feeling of him nosing your clit but he holds them down. 
“So wet, baby,” he mumbles. He rubs his nose further into you, making you moan at the feeling. “Such a naughty girl,” he grins as he brings his hand to your pussy, rubbing your arousal all over your clit. You can barely breathe at the feeling of his nose and fingers. “Getting so wet while your baby girl is down the hall.” You whimper when he kisses your clit. “My dirty mama.” 
Before you could say anything, he starts to plant wet, open-mouthed kisses along your thigh, alternating between nibbling and sucking on the tender flesh before tracing a wet path down your thigh to your dripping center. Your fingers weave into his hair as he eagerly explores you.
A moan escapes Heeseung's lips as he delves his tongue inside. Your body arches in response, teeth sinking into your lip to stifle the nearly escaping cry. His nose nudges against your swollen folds while his tongue expertly works its magic within you. A low hum reverberates through him as he licks and laps, sending delicious shivers down your spine.
Heeseung groans when you tug on his hair, his name slipping quietly from your lips in hurried breaths. The taste of you is perfect, and he can't seem to get enough. Sucking on your sensitive clit, he presses his nose deep within you, grinning against your cunt when you let out a loud cry. 
“Heeseung,” you breathe. Your hands grip his hair tightly and when you pull, pushing him further into your pussy, he groans and the sound makes your legs shake. 
As he fucked his tongue into you, sucking and slurping, he coated three of his fingers in your slick before plunging them in. You try your best to stifle your cry as your cunt sucks his fingers in. Your nerves are on fire and your mind is hazy with pleasure. 
Heeseung matches the pace of his tongue with his fingers and he releases a quiet whimper when you try to close your legs, slightly suffocating him. With his other hand, he pushes at your thigh, gripping tightly. 
“Fuck, fuck, Seung– fuck.” You’re panting, sweaty as pleasure overwhelms you. “I’m gonna cum–” 
Heeseung doesn’t need the warning because he knows. He can feel it in the way you’re sucking him in, the way your legs are shaking as your slick gushes out of you and into his mouth. Pregnancy changed the way you tasted and he loved it, enough to claim being an addict. 
The building of pleasure snapped inside you as he wrapped his lips around your clit and fucked his fingers into you. You sobbed out his name, clenching your eyes shut as your nerves lit on fire and your vision went white. 
The bottom half of his face was shiny with your cum and slick as he continued to lick at you, his tongue working its way from your entrance all the way to your clit. He never wanted your orgasm to end. 
You bit into your hand to muffle another scream as Heeseung kept pushing his fingers inside you, pushing your cum back into your sopping hole. Your knees weakened as he kept lapping all your juices. You could feel your core tighten again until another release washed through you, making you moan and whimper louder. 
Heeseung licked you clean, swallowing the second orgasm swifter than the first. He slowly pulled his fingers out of you and pushed his tongue in, lapping up everything your cunt had to offer. 
You breathed heavily as you tried to regain any sense of control back into your legs. Slowly, Heeseung sat up and licked his fingers clean, staring at you fervently as he did. Your pussy throbbed at the sight and loss of him, and you quietly whimpered out his name. 
“You did so good for me, mama.” He crawled towards you and kissed you, tongue brushing against yours, letting you taste yourself. You hummed into his mouth and he swallowed it, his dick incredibly hard and throbbing. 
He pulled away and looked down at you. You looked up at him with tears in your eyes and he kissed your eyelids. He could see the exhaustion in your eyes, hidden deep within the arousal and he made a decision. 
Heeseung fell on the bed beside you, panting. You slightly turned towards him and he looked at you lovingly, a dazed smile on his lips. You both laid side-by-side. “How are you feeling, baby?” 
You snickered, a bit out of it still. “Like I’ve just cummed twice.” 
Heeseung grins at you and presses a soft kiss to your cheek. “Are you okay to keep going?” 
You blink at him. “I’m pregnant, Seung. Not terminally ill.” At his unimpressed look, you snort. “Yes, I’m okay.” Heeseung continues to stare at you and you sigh, admitting defeat. “Fine. I’m a little tired.” 
Heeseung nods in understanding and gestures for you to sit up and you do. He takes your pillow and fluffs it before motioning you to lay down. You follow his instructions and sigh in relief as the pressure is off your back. 
You blink up at your husband. “Do me a favour and listen to me blindly for the next two minutes.” Instantly, Heeseung nods as he lays beside you, sweaty and beautiful. You eye his bulge and lick your lips. 
You turn so your back faces Heeseung and he watches and waits patiently. Once you’re comfortable on your side, you slightly turn your head. “Lay on your side, Seungie. Close to me,” you say. 
Heeseung does exactly that. He fluffs his pillow before laying on his side, arm immediately around your waist as his chest presses into your back. You smile at him and he nuzzles his face into your neck. 
“What now, baby?” 
“Now you fuck me silly.” 
Heeseung grins at your words as he nips at your neck. “You’re sure, Y/n?” 
You nod. “Yes. Please, Seung. I need you in me.” 
Heeseung presses an open mouthed kiss to the crevice of your shoulder and he pulls his throbbing cock out of his shorts. He lifts one of your legs and sets it on his own, rubbing his dick against your cunt, coating it in your slick. You hold your breath as he pushes the head slowly inside, moaning out his name as your pussy sucks him in.
You were a bit tighter than usual during pregnancy and it drove Heeseung fucking insane. He squeezes one of your breasts, playing with your nipple as he pushes his cock slowly inside you, bottoming out. 
You moan at the stretch and fullness you feel, arching your back a bit so your ass presses flush against his hips. Heeseung begins slowly rocking his hips against you, sliding his dick in and out of you at the most delicious pace. “That’s it, mamas. Suck me in, just like that.”
“Hee,” you whimpered. 
Heeseung continued to fuck you slowly, one of his hands holding your leg and the other plates with your breasts before travelling down your body and circling your clit. His pace increased and his fingers quickened. Before you could cry out, he shoved the same fingers into your mouth, making you gag on them. 
“Quiet, baby.” His voice sent chills down your spine. “Dahlia is right outside. You don’t want her to know how dirty mama truly is, do you?” At his words, your walls fluttered around his cock and he hissed. “You like that? Huh, baby?” He fucked you harder as your tongue swirled around his fingers. 
His cock twitched and he could feel that you were close. “Cum for me, mamas. Cum all over my cock like the dirty girl you are.” 
Your cries echoed through the room as you climaxed, your cum coating his cock as you surrendered to the waves of pleasure. Your body convulsed uncontrollably, your inner walls gripping him with a fierce intensity. Heeseung's own moans mingled with yours as he bit down on your neck, releasing himself within you.
He emptied himself into you, the sound of his release mixing with your own juices, creating a symphony of ecstasy. With each thrust, he filled you completely, his gaze transfixed on the mesmerizing sight of his cock disappearing into your warmth. 
Amidst your incoherent babbling, Heeseung continued to pump into you, utterly lost in the depths of your being. His movements were relentless, driven by a primal urge he couldn't deny. Tears streamed down your cheeks, a mixture of overstimulation and raw emotion overwhelming your senses.
As the final drops of his cum dripped into your core, he gradually slowed his pace, pressing tender kisses to your neck and shoulders. Ever so gently, Heeseung moves to pull out of you but your hand on his waist stops you. Pushing himself further into you, he wraps his arm around you and pulls you flush against his back. 
You both pant heavily, trying to regain your composure. It doesn’t help that he’s still inside you, but you can’t stomach the loss of him either. You feel so complete when his cock is buried in you and even though your vision is blurry, you love it. 
Heeseung presses a gentle kiss to your neck. “You alright, baby?”
You close your eyes. “Mhm. I love you.” 
Heeseung laughs and buries his face in your hair. “I love you too, Y/n.” He smiles against your skin. “I’m going to get a bath started for you.” Your nails dig deeper into his skin and he grins. 
“In a bit,” you mumble. Your eyes are drooping and you know that you should probably check on your daughter soon, but everything inside you is pulling you to sleep. 
Heeseung can tell you’re falling asleep. The tightness in your shoulders has melted and your breathing is slightly shallow and even. He holds you tightly as you succumb to the darkness. He waits a bit, until you’re snoring, to quietly pull out of you. 
He bites his bottom lip to suppress his hisses as your warm cunt practically sucks him in but he refrains. He fixes his shorts and slides out of bed, grabbing a fresh wash cloth to wipe you down. He cleans you as best as he can and buttons your nightgown. 
He sits at the edge of the bed and stares down at your soft sleeping face. You look so content and freshly fucked, it’s one of his favourite looks on you. “Happy mother’s day, mamas.” He presses a soft kiss to your forehead and goes to the bathroom to clean himself. 
Then, once he’s clean, he walks out of the bedroom and into the family room. His eyes zone in on Daliah’s sleeping body and he coos, scooping her into his arms. He brings his baby girl into the master bedroom and decides that a nap in their bed wouldn’t hurt. 
He slides back into bed and lays Daliah on his chest. One of his arms wraps protectively around her sleeping body and she tucks her little face into his neck. Naturally, seeking his warmth, you turn in your sleep. 
With his wife on one side and his daughter on his chest, he lays a hand on her pregnant belly.
This is all he’s ever wanted. A little, loving family. 
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aakeysmash · 2 months ago
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christmas shopping, matching pajamas and family discounts
college!sukuna masterlist
"Why are we here again?" college!sukuna huffs from next to you for the umpteenth time.
"Stop acting like a little bitch. You asked me that 20 seconds ago, Yuuji is acting better than you," you hiss out, glaring at him. It's true though: the kid is trotting right in front of you two, not a care in the world, while his caretaker is currently dragging his feet on the pavement you're walking on.
"And you still didn't answer, fucker," he barks back, grimacing, kicking a little rock.
"Yes, I fucking did! I told you this morning we were going Christmas shopping! You never listen to me," you start, jutting your lip out and trying to play the victim. You know he hates it when you do it. "Maybe I should tell Yuuji how his big brother hates the idea of going shopping with him," you provoke, whispering so that only you and him know what you're talking about. He scoffs, offended.
"Liar. Don't you fucking dare-"
"Are you two fighting again?" whines Yuuji, turning around and pouting. You and Sukuna glance at each other before shaking your head at the same moment.
"No, we're getting along so well," you force yourself to smile.
"Yeah, she said she's so glad I'm accompanying her. Matter of fact, she said she's going to offer us lunch," Sukuna continues, an evil glint in his eyes when he hears you gasp.
"I did not-"
"Really?! Yippie!" screams Yuuji, coming to hug you violently. You stumble back, gritting your teeth, and reciprocate the hug while narrowing your eyes at the grinning tattooed man in front of you. He knows you're not able to say no to his brother.
When Yuuji runs inside the mall, you push Sukuna's shoulder, mumbling "bitch". He just chuckles, then boldly gets you close by placing one open hand on your lower back. You know he's just going to tease you, so you put both hands on his chest to fight back, trying to put some distance between you two, but the place is crowded and everyone is looking at you. A woman passes by you and looks at you weirdly, so you stop wriggling in his grasp, and he delicately pushes you even closer. You're chest to chest, his breath fanning over your features, grin ever present on his face, enjoying how you look pissed out of your mind. From the outside, it looks like you're hugging each other, when in reality he just puts his mouth on your ear to utter "Never play with me, baby. I know how to drive you mad," then frees you and walks behind Yuuji with his hands in his pockets, not turning back to see if you're following him or not. You're seething.
"Oh my God, Yuuji, look at these!" you swoon over a pair of pajama pants. They're a soft brown, decorated with little green Christmas' trees and little reindeers, a bright red Merry Christmas! on both knees.
"It's a set!" squeals the kid next to you, grabbing the sweater right on top of the piece of cloth you have in your hands. You both notice at the same time that the set comes both in adults' and kids' sizes. "Can we take it?" he asks you looking up, puppy eyes activated. Your heartstrings are pulled so tight you feel like you could implode if you look at his face for a second longer.
"Of course we can, I thought it was obvious," you say excitedly, grabbing his hands and jumping up and down with him in a circle while he laughs, smile on full display and brown eyes squeezed shut happily.
Sukuna, who has kept watching his phone for the majority of the time you've been inside the mall, raises his gaze when he hears your laugh mingled with his brother's. If you had been looking at him in that instant, you would've seen the brief soft glimpse that passed on his whole face when he took in how happy you both looked together. When you turn around, though, he's already schooled his features to appear bored.
"Are we done?" he yawns.
"Would you like to match with us?" you ask him, at the same time. You scowl and he scoffs.
"Hell no, girl. I'm not with whatever stupid shit y'all are doing," he says, trying to act tougher than what he actually feels like. Seeing you being kind to the only person in the world who shares 100% of his genes makes him feel things he doesn't want to acknowledge right now.
"You're a party pooper, 'Kuna," Yuuji mumbles, frowning. "Can we still match? I really want us to match," he adds, shily, looking at you. You're shocked. His cheeks are getting redder the more you gawk at him. "Sorry, you can say no-"
Your kiss on his cheek resonates all around the ally you're currently staying in. "Of course I want to match with you. We don't need your evil brother, Yuuji. Let's go try them on," you sweetly say, taking his hand and walking away from Sukuna, not before flipping him off. Yuuji is so giddy that he follows you like he's walking on clouds, his face slightly hurting from how hard he's cheesing.
Sukuna just stands there, baffled and even a little offended. He stiffens, noticing he still has his phone in his hands. He's so fast with it he's the first to remain shocked by his own actions: he hears the click of his camera and looks at the pic he's just taken, feeling his chest heavier than it's ever been. It's a beautifully taken pic, where you and Yuuji are squinting at each other, hand in hand, laughing. He turns off his screen, shakes his head and catches up to you. You're going to give him a headache if you continue being like this. Or a heart attack. Or both.
"Hello, what can I do for you?" the nice old lady at the checkout says.
"Hi, we'd like to take these two pieces," you kindly respond, handing her the pajamas you and Yuuji just tried on.
"Let me see... oh, we actually have a family discount on this! Is the daddy not going to take anything?" she innocently asks, looking over at your older roommate.
"Yo, I'm not his-"
Your eyes almost fall out of your sockets. "Ah ah ah! Silly us! We forgot his one! Just give me a second," you interrupt a scowling Sukuna, covering his mouth with your hand before he can finish his sentence, dragging him away. Yuuji gives the old lady a confused look, to which she responds with "Young parents these days," shaking her head.
"You're going to take the fucking matching set, Sukuna, and you're going to like it," you seethe, still dragging him away (well, it's more like he's letting you drag him away). You hear how he's trying to talk behind your hand. "Don't piss me off. I'm going to pay less to get more, and you're going to listen to me. Go." You ignore him and he raises one eyebrow, looking you up and down, before biting your fingers. You yelp and let him go, scowling. "I said go! And act like you care about me when we get there, we're a family until the discount tells us so!"
"Okay, ma'am," he grins down to you, wiping his saliva from the corner of his mouth with a slow movement, his gaze lingering a bit too much on the way you're panting.
"Move! Take your size and let's go! Yuuji is waiting for us!" you push him, rushing back to the cashier.
"Oh, you were really fast. I thought you were going to argue with the way you rushed away," she says when she sees you come back, surprised. You nervously chuckle, telling her how you were already planning on buying one for Sukuna, you just forgot. "That would be 20.99$."
While you're swiping your card, you suddenly feel engulfed by heat. Sukuna positions his hands on your waist, giving you a half hug from behind while simultaneously giving his best confident grin to the old lady in front of him.
"Yeah. I just like when she bosses me around a bit, if you know what I mean," he says, sultry, winking at the cashier who is chuckling behind her hand, embarrassed, waving him away.
What the fuck? You initially try not to stiffen, then relax and give her a shy smile, and he squeezes you a bit closer. You melt on his chest, feeling hotter than you've felt all day. He's so comfortable. He brushes his lips near your ear and makes sure you hear the way his raspy voice is all around you. "And I do, baby. I really do."
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amoressb · 15 days ago
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✦ LATE NIGHT LIVE
PAIRINGS — idol bf!riki x reader
IN WHICH — riki goes live with you and shows off your matching pjs
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you were waiting for riki outside of the recording studio patiently. you had a little surprise for him when he came out. before you came to the studio you had saw these cute cookie monster pjs and thought it would be cute for you and niki to wear them together and now here you are.
“oh hey y/n!” you hear a voice say. you look to your left and see sunoo. “hey sunoo howve you been?” you smile at him. “ive been good so far, pretty tired tho. glas recordings over so i can go home now. are you here for riki?” he assumes seeing that you have a little bag saying for riki on it. “yeah got him a little something!” you open the bag for him to see. “aw thats cute, you really do bring out his soft side. he should be getting out now tho so ill see you later!” he waves to you. “byeee!” you smile waving bye to him.
about a minute or two later the door opens revealing your boyfriend. he looks to his side smiling immediately upon seeing you, “hey baby, how long have you been here?” he pulls you in by the waist gently. “mm maybe like 10 minutes ago?” you look away from him thinking. “but anyways i got you a little something here!” you stated getting out if his grip and grabbing the little bag. he smiles grabbing the bag from you and opening it to see a pair of blue cookie monster pajama pants. “really baby?” he states chuckling.
“lets wear them tonight yeah?!” you smile waiting for a response. “yeah but im scheduled for a live tonight, ill still wear them tho okay” he holds you cheek smiling tilting his head at you a little. you say nod happily, grab his hand and make your way home. riki couldnt help but smile at you. you being so excited to match with him and everything, he loved it. he couldnt wait to get home and match with you.
finally getting home, you both immediately went to change into your pjs and a simple black shirt. riki started setting up his live on your vanity since it had a light up mirror while you sat behind him on the couch making sure youre not in the background. riki started the live and comments immediately started rolling in. “hey guys hope youre all well” he smiled waving at the camera.
how was youre day riki !!
“my day was good we simply recorded our bits for some songs then i got surprised by a special someone” he states looking off camera to you smiling. engenes already knew who riki was talking about. you. they absolutely adored you and loved the noticeable difference in riki.
is she with you?
can we see her !!
“yeah shes behind me off camera actually” he looked at you still smiling. “cmere baby they wanna see you” riki holds out his hand to you. you grab his hand smiling cheekily and made your way into the camera.
omg i love her pjs !!
“thank you i just bought them today!” she happily states. “yeah were matching actually look!” riki smiles happily and stands next to you, grabbing your waist gently. you both see the comments going crazy at how cute you guys look. riki turns to you and gives you a kiss on your cheek.
riki takes his seat again and pats his lap looking at you. understanding what he means you take a seat on his lap and almost immediately riki wraps his hands around your waist and lays his head on your shoulder. the engenes see this and they absolutely love it omg.
ni-ki is my standard.
theyre so cute i want what they have !!
idk about you but i want y/n🤷‍♀️
“well you cant have her but you can still keep those edits coming yk” he looks away with a grin. you lean into the camera and wink, “dw im always yours engenes.” riki immediately gave you his signature side eye while loosening his grip on you. the comments started laughing at the scene in front of them. you also started laughing and turned to him, reaching your hand up to his cheek, bringing his face closer to you, giving him a kiss on the cheek. he looked away breaking into a smile. the rest if the live was just you and riki flirting at (many) times and for some reason riki constantly bringing up that he was matching pjs with you. he was just that happy about matching with you.
“bye engenes have a good night” you and riki say waving then turning off the live. it was noticeable you two were tired so both immediately jump into your shared bed getting into the covers cuddling up to each other closely. “that was acute live riki” you say stroking his cheek softly seeing his eyes are already closed. he simply hums and gets closer to you if thats even possible. “goodnight riki i love you” “goodnight princess i love you too” he mumbles sleepily. you chuckle and kiss his forehead and you both went off into dreamland.
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* happy birthday to my bby riki !! *
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gullei · 11 months ago
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Get ready to dive into dreamland with our His and Hers Sleepwear Jammies Set from gullei.com! Made from 100% Cotton, these sets are your go-to for those breezy Spring & Autumn nights. Feel the softness that's just dreamy and enjoy the convenience of pockets and an elastic waistband. It's not just sleepwear; it's a cozy party waiting to happen! The perfect Valentine's Day treat for couples and friends – stay tuned for a playful bedtime experience like never before! https://gullei.com/products/his-and-hers-sleepwear-jammies-set-100-cotton
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lxnarphase · 6 months ago
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PRETTY BITCHES LOVE ME ᯓ★
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━━ ❝ SHE A BADDIE, SHE SHOWIN' HER PANTY! ❞ wc. 3.7k
ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...synopsis : suguru is just as big of a show off as gojo, he's just more subtle about it. and he wants everyone in this damn club to know that you're his.
ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...cw : blk!fem!reader x g. suguru, suggestive content, alcohol mention, exhibitionism, voyeurism (?), fingerfucking, public fingering, little bit of breeding kink and talks of knocking you up, lots of kissing, suguru really loves his girl, suguru can’t keep his hands to himself
ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...lunar's note : suguru is just a slut for you i don't know what else to tell you. he's just as much as a mischievous little shit as gojo ! if you want to be tagged for the future posts, comment on the main post here ! enjoy baddies ❤︎ (also yes nonblack readers can read and reblog too, idk why some anons try to gatekeep)
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suguru's so touchy with you, it's sweet.
he can't keep his hands off of you whenever you go out. the poor man feels like he might just die if he's not having some sort of physical contact with you the majority of the day.
it could be the grocery store on a late night snack run in matching pajama bottoms or like now, a long night at the club for some celebration.
neither one of you remembers what or who the part is for, the alcohol in your systems causing you to focus on one another. the rest of your group is busy on the dance floor or bar, leaving you and suguru to cuddle up to each other in the VIP area like the lovesick idiots the two of you are.
your sitting across his lap, one hand in his hair and the other holding his shoulder, rubbing random shapes and patterns into the fabric of his shirt. it's so unfair, he just smells so fucking good and looks so damn handsome. you genuinely can't look at anything but him. 
and he loves it so damn much.
"s'guruuu," you coo at him, nose smooshed against his cheek. if you could, you'd get even closer to him, but this would have to suffice for now. "you're so handsome tonight..." 
the corners of his mouth tilt up into a smug smirk as he chuckles, his hand sliding from your knee to your upper thigh, stroking the exposed skin. you're so soft, could you really blame him for wanting to touch you all the time? compared to you, suguru is way more sober and is just eating up all the attention you're giving him.
not just because he loves you, but that was a plus.
no, it's because people are watching.
his sharp purple eyes flicker up, meeting with the group of girls outside of the VIP area that keep looking his direction.
their eyes are filled with interest and want when they look at him, and he can't help but chuckle to himself.
suguru knows he's attractive. hell, he's reminded of it every morning by the way you shower him in kisses and praises as part of your morning routine, making sure he knows just how much you love him and his 'stupidly pretty face,' as you so elegantly put it.
but what makes him laugh is how they look at you with disdain and confusion, as if they can't understand why you're in his lap instead of them.
it's disgusting, really, for them to even have the slightest thought that they could replace you. they must be lying to themselves, he thinks as your lips start to press kisses against his cheek, the soft curls and coils of your hair tickling his cheek.
you're just so cute, so adorable, so gorgeous, so beautiful. you're his pretty little angel, and seeing women jealous of you just fills him with so much pride, knowing you have other women jealous of you.
if only they knew how badly you have him wrapped around your little finger. if you so much as asked, suguru wouldn't hesitate to beat the shit out of someone for you, wouldn't hesitate to kill for you...but thankfully, it never got to that point.
yet.
"hmm, you think i'm handsome?" he leans in, his breath warm against your neck as he nips your ear. "nah, you look so damn gorgeous, angel. you're stealing the spotlight from me t'night."
his fingers trace circles into your thigh, enjoying your little giggles and complaints of it tickling. it only makes him do it more, your laughs and giggles making his heart squeeze a little bit.
fuck, suguru really loves how your skin feels under his fingertips, soft and smooth. it's all he thinks about. he wants to touch you forever, wants to feel you every second of the day. you are just so warm and soft, nothing would ever compare to the feel of your skin.
pulling away from your ear, he sees that those girls are still there, looking at you and him. the smirk on his face falters a bit, and his gaze hardens.
man, he really doesn't like how they're looking at you.
it's so easy for him to tell they have no cursed energy, just mere humans that could never even hope to be on the same level as you. it would be so fucking easy to just...snap his fingers and have them gone in an instant.
you steal his attention away from them and the dark thoughts swirling in his head by tilting his head your way, and instantly, his gaze softens.
jesus, the things you do to this man.
"sugu? what's wrong, honey," you mumble, worry etched into your features. you cup his face, thumbs stroking his cheeks to get him to calm down. "you don't look happy..."
the feel of your hands on his face, paired with the sweet concern in your voice, it washes away all irritation in him instantly. suguru hums, his eyes sliding shut. and the soft look in your eyes...he's so whipped for you, it's sickening.
you're so warm...
"no, baby, nothing's wrong," he reassures you, his smooth voice a low rumble. if he could, he'd be purring incredibly loudly right now, nuzzling into your palms. just your touch is enough to make him melt.
"'m just thinkin' how lucky I am, havin' you all to myself like this. the prettiest girl in the world, and she's sitting in my lap...who knew i'd make it this far in life, hm?"
the low, purple lights of the club cast a soft glow on your face as your fluffy hair frames your face, and suguru sighs, looking at you like you were his everything. you are his everything.
a quick glance to the side and suguru takes note that those girls are still fucking there, looking at you both. instead of getting irritated again, suguru gets an idea.
with a smirk, his hand slides up further your thigh, his fingertips slipping under the hem of that pretty purple dress he bought you that contrasts against the dark color of your skin...so pretty.
"mm, babygirl, just looking at you is making me dizzy," suguru purrs, his gaze dipping to your lips before meeting your eyes again. "you know i love you right? an' that all i wanna do is show you off s' everyone knows how pretty you are, right?"
you know better.
you know better than to trust him when he starts making comments like this, when he starts cooing and praising you out of nowhere.
because you know that it means suguru is up to no damn good.
you still haven't forgiven him for making you squirt on his fingers while he was on the phone with nanami...even though it was kind of cute how nanami couldn't look you in the eye without blushing for about two weeks.
"mhm...i know, sugu, you're a little show off that likes to get us in trouble," you playfully scold, tugging his hair a little as you giggle, looking at him with a soft gaze.
suguru's head tilts back, and his eyes flutter shut for a moment, a soft grunt leaving him. he's always been a sucker for you pulling on his hair like that, likes when you tug him around to make a point...shit, he's getting hard just from thinking of all the times you'd use his hair to get his attention or make him focus on something.
and it doesn't take long for you to discover his thoughts are going south.
with an exasperated gasp, you feel the hardness of his arousal pressing against your ass, letting out a little scold of his name. his grip on you tightens when you shift to confirm your suspicions. his head leans to rest in the crook of your neck, a silent plea for more of your affection.
"but you like it when I show off," suguru teases back, pressing a kiss against your neck as your curls tickle his face again. even your hair was soft, it's like he's got his own little pillow pet in his lap. the thought makes him chuckle, knowing you'd probably swat at him playfully for comparing you to a plushy
"you get all worked up, it's so cute, angel...plus, i think y'like it when i cause trouble." his hand swaps thighs and creeps up higher under your dress, his fingers brushing the edge of your panties. he's playing a risky game. at any moment, someone could catch him and get you both kicked and banned from the club.
but where's the fun in life without taking risks?
"c'mooon, admit it, baby, you like it."
one glance up back into the crowd and suguru hums, his eyes glinting dangerously. still there, it seems.
they aren't staring as hard now, but looks of disbelief cross their face when his hand shamelessly goes right to the apex of your thighs, fingers running over the lace of your panties. suguru doesn't care anymore, if they wanna look so bad, he'll give them something to stare at.
"s-suguru...you're, mnh, gettin' close there..."
he doesn't give you a response, his hand sliding from your back up to your hair to keep your head in the crook of his neck. he may be fine with showing out a little bit to these bitches who tired to glare daggers into you, but no one except him gets to see your face.
the way your lashes flutter, the way your teeth dig into the plushness of your bottom lip...it's driving him crazy.
the faint scent of your perfume hits his nose, and he's gone. his cock is pressing against your ass in full hardness, and he has to stop himself from grinding up into you.
nah, right now, this is about you.
he's going to take care of you, going to make you feel good, going to make sure you know that you are his in every way that counts.
without wasting another moment, suguru's fingers slip under your panties, pausing when they touch the faint wetness gathering at your slit.
"fuck...baby, don't tell me you've been like this the whole night," he rasps, his breathing slowly starting to pick up. your soft cunt is hot to the touch, sticky and wet as he drags his fingers through your slick.
"i can't help it, you just...look, really good t'night, baby," you huff into his ear, gasping a moan when he doesn't hesitate to slip a finger into your slick hole.
he really does look good tonight, dressed in those black dress pants, sleek dress shoes, and that stupidly hot black button-up shirt. and he has the sleeves rolled up and the top few buttons undone so that you can get a nice view of that necklace with your name on it resting on his collarbone.
how can you not get soaking wet?
"shit." he's groaning, the sensation of you nuzzling your face into his neck to press little open-mouthed kisses into all the sensitive spots of his neck sending a shiver down his spine. it's so sweet and precious how you try your hardest not to make too much noise and not move too much as he stirs up your cunt with just one of his fingers.
he wishes you both were back at home, wishes that he had you spread open on the bed so that he can see how wet he's got you just from his attire, so that he can hear your pussy squelch around his fingers. not even the strongest in the world would be able to pull him from your pussy whenever you get this wet.
the thought of gojo trying to pull him away from you makes him cringe a bit...because he knows damn well that idiot would be shoving his face deeper into your cunt, grinning as he practically makes suguru drown in you.
on second thought, that's not a bad way to go....
another tug to his hair as him unintentionally groaning, eyes snapping shut at the sharp pang of pleasured pain that shoots up his spine. his attention is back on you, his face close to yours as he breathes against your ear.
if you want his attention, then he'll give you all of it with no hesitation.
"suguruu, more...please," you finally whine, the slow movement not enough for you. it's almost torture; the slow in and out motions of his finger making you feel good but not good enough. no, you need more, craved it.
"yeah? you gonna be a good girl f' your suguru and let him take care of this needy lil' pussy? hm?" one finger turns into two, and that familiar heat pools in your lower abdomen. now it's feeling so fucking good that you already know his fingers are gonna be coated in your juices.
this should be embarrassing, it really should. you both are in a club for fucksake! but you can't find it in you to care about it, his thick digits working your cunt so good that your brain is just melting.
one of your hands grips his button-up, fisting in the fabric to ground yourself from the pleasure. "m-mhm! I'll be good, I'll be s' good for you, sugu, promise!" suguru is becoming relentless, determined to make you crack and stop hiding those pretty sounds from him when he takes note of how you go right back to biting your lip after giving him that sweet, needy response.
however, he loves seeing your lips all swollen, knowing they were like that because he made you feel so good you had to force yourself to be quiet.
"sweetheart, don' hide it, lemme hear you, 's just you and me," he whispers to you, his other hand burying itself in your curls and giving a little tug. he knows it's not just the both of you, but right now, in this moment, it's all that exists for him.
the harsh pull of your hair has your lips brushing against his ear and choking on a moan, unable to keep it in. "thaaaat's it, let me hear how good it feels t' have these fingers buried deep inside this tight cunt."
you hate this, hate when he talks because it only makes you wetter. and that means he's gonna talk even more, and you're always right because he's cooing at how much slick is pouring out of you now, asking if it's because of his voice or his fingers.
suguru's so fucking annoying, such an asshole, but you can't help but let him get away with it when it means he makes your eyes flutter closed in pleasure.
you let him get away with way too much, don't you?
the song playing now is so loud, the bass making the ground vibrate. but suguru doesn't care, he's just thankful it's loud enough to cover that fucking beautiful moan you give him when he curls his fingers juuuust right.
"oooh, there? did i find it? fuck, baby, y'got so tight jus' from that."
your desperate nod of confirmation is all he needs before he speeds up his fingers, groaning when he can finally hear the wet schlicks of his hand coaxing more slick out of you.
one more glance up and suguru can't help but grin. the girls are gone, now mixed up in the crowd likely red and hot in the face.
seems like his impromptu little show finally got the message across: he is yours and yours only.
knowing he no longer had to show off, he's focusing on you, on you and that tight, needy little slit between your legs that's dripping down his wrist. it should be a crime for someone to be this wet, in public no less.
"c'mon, angel, don' hold back on me anymore, lemme know how it feels. wanna know 'm treating this gorgeous pussy good."
you let out the prettiest moan, breath hot against his ear. suguru coos, his hand not between your legs holding your neck to keep your head in the crook of his neck. “mhg, suguru, love it s' much, g-god, your fingers feel s'good, 's not fair.”
you can't stop yourself from trying to spread your legs more, giving him a bit better access. you know you can't open them too much ot someone might see.
but...would that be so bad? for people to see how suguru could make you fall apart so seamlessly?
if only you knew that's exactly what was running through his head right now. he's positive at least one person has caught on to what's happening, the repeating motions of his hand between your legs such a dead giveaway.
it thrills him, his cock throbbing in his pants at the thought. shit, he's learning things about himself he didn't know before...he might have to do this to you more often.
he leans in closer, his mouth grazing the sensitive skin of your neck, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine as he whispers, "y'gonna cum for me right here in this club, aren't you, babygirl? gonna show me how much you love my fingers playing with this slutty lil' pussy, right?"
he gets a sweet little 'yes, sugu' and he purrs your name, the mixture of your moans, the music, and the just barely audible sounds of your slickness being stirred by his thick fingers, making him feel drunk.
you're shaking in his lap, holding on for dear life as he makes it a point to curl his fingers with each thrust, not giving you a break anymore. you're spiraling, feeling the tremors of your impending orgasm building, your hot, gummy walls fluttering around his stupidly thick digits. you're praying silently between each pant and gasp, desperately hoping he doesn't make you squirt, not now, not when so many people are around—!
"c'mon, baby, c'mon," suguru encourages, his fingers picking up their pace. you're so close, he knows it, he knows because he can feel it coming. the way you fist his shirt, the way your hips are trying to hard to not rise up to meet his hand, knowing it would make it so obvious what's happening.
but suguru, oh, he stopped caring so fucking long ago. he just wants to feel you soak his fingers, wants to hear your muted little moan of his name when you finally cum. he just wants to make sure you know you're his.
"b-baby, suguru, shit, i'm gonna cum—!"
"yeah? that's it, baby, let got f'me, you can do it," he urges and coos, his voice bordering on needy and desperate, just like you. he's panting into your ear, whispering little praises as he listens to you pitifully try to keep your gasps and moans down. you're such a mess, it's so cute, you're so adorable, god, he loves you so bad.
your thick thighs are quivering and trembling as you teeter on the brink of release. you know it's going to be a mess, but you try, you try so hard to keep it in.
suguru notices—how could he not—and he's not having it, slipping a third finger inside your messy little cunt, curling deep inside right against that sweet spot, and that knot wound so tight inside you finally snaps.
"s-suguuuu, 'm cummin'—!"
he's reveling in how your hot, gummy walls squeeze and spasm all over his fingers, milking them for all they're worth as you cry and sob his name into his ear, tears caught on your eyelashes from how good it feels. he wishes he could look at you, wanting to drink up your expressions, but no, he'd be risking someone else seeing how pretty you are when you cum.
"yessss, good girl, good fuckin' girl, gimme everything, babygirl."
your cries of release are so damn sweet to his ears, and he continues to work you through it, ensuring your orgasm is as prolonged and intense as possible. if you were home, he wouldn't care about stopping or overstimulating, but he has to remind himself to stay calm and not go too hard.
if he did, he wasn't sure he'd be able to stop himself from fucking you on this couch in the middle of the VIP section in front of all these people.
once suguru feels you go slack in his arms and your hand weakly slap against his chest, he slows his hand, his own breaths heavy with the arousal and need you stirred in him...did you have any idea how sexy you were? if he wasn't as controlled as he was, he's positive he would've cum in his pants.
pulling his fingers out slowly, suguru's quick to pop them into his mouth, sucking off your juices like it would be the last time he'd ever get a last. fuck, you soaked his hand...he doesn't care how obvious he makes it when he licks at his palm and wrist to not miss a drop.
"hhmph, s-suguru, you—"
"i need you, right now. can i take you home?"
of course, he has to ask. he knows how long it took you to get ready, to look so fucking perfect. but right now, he doesn't want anyone to look at you. hell, he doesn't want anyone else but him to be near you, he'd fucking wipe out this entire club right now if you asked.
the soft touch of your hands on his face brings him back, making him melt as his eyes slide shut. you're so soft, he loves you so much, he needs to stick his cock into you while groaning those words into your ear, needs to feel his tip kiss that soft, spongy spot inside you that makes your back arch off the bed, to fold you in half as he stuffs you so full, praying that his cum gets stuck deep inside you, praying that it takes and that he gets you knocked up, and that—
"take me home, sugu, please, i-i need you s' bad."
your words have him acting in an instant he presses a quick kiss to your lips, licking whatever is left of your lipgloss before helping you stand up with him, guiding you out of the club. if he stays in here for any longer, he's not sure he'll be able to control himself.
"i got you, baby, don't worry, 'm gonna give you what you need. let's go, princess."
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all rights reserved © lxnarphase | do not repost, copy, translate, or alter my work
ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...lunar's tags : @satoruwiki @llllllllllllloser @screampied @abcdbleh @vicfuentesfangirl @sakurapeach @ohsuguru @crywolfix @naughtygobbo @aura88967 @jeanine-gt @tananaxx @tojancy @happymangosstuff @charming-chikara @actuallynarii @ninikrumbs @inette04 @paint-eater2 @haesify @shaguro
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princesssae · 21 days ago
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{But You Like Her Better}
[Megumi Fushiguro x Fem!Reader]
In Which -> It’s the 3rd of December, so why do you see Megumi handing his sweater over to Hana Kurusu?
Word Count -> 2.4k
Authors Note -> Ever since she said “that” to Megumi, I started disliking her. But today is the 3rd of December, and it’s the PERFECT time to write this. This fic is based on Heather, by Conan Gray so I suggest listening to this song before reading! This is not apart of the Kid!Megumi series!
Warnings -> THIS TAKES PLACE AFTER THE FINAL BATTLE AGAINST SUKUNA!!!! Spoilers if you haven’t read the chapters!!! ANGSTTT, fluff at the end.
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It’s cold today. You shiver and walk down the empty hall. Maybe you should ask Maki to train with you today. After all, you need to get warm. Sitting in the building with no heat is killing you. Why hasn’t anyone changed the thermostat temperature yet?
You turn around the hallway to go to the exit and there you see Megumi. What’s he doing on this side of the building? He’s usually never here. Usually, he’s always in his dorm room or out with Itadori. That brings you to your next point. Where's Yuji at? They’re usually attached at the hip after the incident. But Yuji isn't there. It's someone else.
It's blonde hair. Short, shiny, blonde hair. And there you see it. You see Megumi handing his sweater over to Kurusu Hana. She’s pretty. Prettier than you. Her eyes are as bright as the blue sky. Maybe he’s mesmerized by them. Maybe that's why he’s holding eye contact with her for so long.
“Do I hear wedding bells?” she exclaims, with her hands over her mouth. She acts like a middle school girl squealing because her crush just confessed. Maybe that’s what just happened. From here, you can tell that her cheeks are pink.
Your heart stings. This is something you definitely did not need to witness. You turn away from the scene and walk away to go to your dorm room.
She’s an angel. Literally and figuratively. Maybe that's why he likes her. He likes girls that are pretty like her. Did he know that it was the third of December?
The scene in your head, no matter how many times you replay it again and again, he was gazing into her eyes. He’s in love, isn’t he? And it's not with you, it's with her.
The next morning, you sit in the dorm living room, eating breakfast. You realize you forgot to get a drink and while you were about to get up, Hana is suddenly next to you, handing you your favorite drink. She smiles once you accept the drink. She’s so shiny.
“Here,” she says.
“Thanks,” you respond with, still in shock that she knows your favorite drink.
“Yuji told me that it’s your favorite drink,” she explains. She’s already on a first name basis with him? It took you months to be able to get comfortable with saying his first name. Maybe he likes her better, too.
“Oh, well thank you anyways,” you say and take a sip of the drink. She’s so nice.
When she walks away, you notice the choice of clothing that she’s wearing today. It’s a sweater. Megumi’s sweater, to be exact. There’s a pang in your heart but that’s okay. He wants her. It’s his choice anyway. It’s not like you ever had a chance with him.
Later that night, the group is watching a movie in the living room but you turned in, telling the group that you didn’t feel good. Maki and Nobara tagged along with you anyways, saying that they didn't wanna see Hana all over Megumi.
Having a girls night was needed. Silly face masks being used, matching pajamas being worn, and even hot chocolate with tiny marshmallows were made from the kitchen.
They know about your tiny (not really tiny) crush on Megumi. You’ve had a crush on him for so, very long. You met Megumi when he was in middle school, roughing up the bullies that ever crossed his way. Being in the same class, he knew you were getting picked on.
But for what reason? You'll never find out. It's not like you were a loner. In fact, you had a nice friend group, good grades and a good social life. Maybe they were jealous of your friends. Who knows?
Sitting on your bed, you come back to your senses and realize that Nobara and Maki are still in your room. You wait for their arguing to end to start your own story about yesterday's incident. When you get enough courage to tell them what happened yesterday, Nobara gets furious.
“Are you serious? Why did he do this?!” she exclaims out of frustration. “And yesterday out of all days? Be serious,” Nobara scoffs and crosses her arms.
She knows that Megumi doesn’t have a crush on Hana. He just feels indebted to her for saving his life. But she knows that he shouldn't have taken it that far.
Maki nods in agreement. “Yeah, I just don't think that he has the hots for her, you know?” she states, stretching her arms.
Speak of the Devil. Your phone dings and it's a message from someone. Megumi, to be exact. You pick up the phone and show your friends the notification from your home screen. When you open the message, you hear Nobara groaning in the background saying something along the lines of “boys and their obliviousness”.
Megumi <3: Are you okay? Yuji told me that you said that you didn't feel well.
Sent at 8:30 pm
You: Yeah! I'm okay. Nobara and Maki are with me.
Sent at 8:31 pm
Megumi <3: Oh okay. Just wondering why you weren't here tonight.
Sent at 8:31 pm
And that's the end of the conversation. Not like you expected anything out of it anyways. Hana’s probably on the couch, cozying up next to him. He probably has his arm around her shoulder. They probably kiss when nobody's looking. Megumi would never kiss you. She’d probably get hurt if she found out that Megumi was talking to someone when she’s right next to him.
Maybe you should change his contact name. He’s taken already, isn’t he? It wouldn’t be proper to crush on someone while they're talking to someone else. You'll do it later.
You turn off your phone and join the conversation Nobara is wildly explaining, about somebody stealing some shopping bags? You don't know, but you know that you enjoy your time with them.
A week later, all the students are at a ramen booth eating their worries away. Shoko says that it's her treat, as long as you get her a pack of cigarettes while yall are out. You're not legal enough to do it, but maybe you'll pay someone to get it for you.
At the end of your meal, when you're about to go up and pay with Shoko’s card, you're tapped on the shoulder by someone. You turn around and you're faced by someone from your middle school.
“Hey, how are you? I feel like it's been so long since we've seen each other,” your guy friend says. He was introduced to your friend group a little later than when you joined, but nevertheless, you enjoyed each other's company.
“Good, I'm doing good. How are you?” you question back.
“Good, thanks. I see a lot of new faces from your new high school. Oh, and there's Megumi. Hey Megumi, how are you doing man?” he asks. Megumi, seated from across the table, nods his head in encouragement and responds with a short answer.
Your guy friend reverts his attention back to you and the rest of the conversation goes smoothly.
When he says goodbye to you, he gives you his phone number and tells you to let him know when you're free. He wants to hang out with you, and maybe get the gang back together.
On the way back home, Nobara gets all excited. “Did you see the way he was looking at her, Maki?! He’s soooo interested,” she tells you, with her arms waving in the air ecstatically.
“Yes, yes, I saw,” Maki responds. It's vague, but you can tell she’s excited by the twinkle in her eye.
The group of guys, which include Yuji, Inumaki, Panda, Yuta and Megumi walk behind yall by a couple of steps. They’re engrossed in their own conversation, but you see Megumi’s eyes flicker towards yours before he pulls away with a frown.
What's up with him? You wonder. Maybe it's because Hana isn't here. She said that she was busy and couldn't show up tonight. It's not like you cared. But oh well, it's not your problem anymore.
It’s 9:27 pm at night when you get another message. You sort of hope that it's your friend that you recently connected with. But all your hope diminishes when you realize who it is.
Megumi <3: Come to the kitchen.
Sent at 9:27 pm
It's all he sends and you wonder if it was for someone else instead. You contemplate on going, but it's just been so awkward between the two of yall lately. So no, you decide not to go and to sleep instead. Maybe you're finally getting over your silly crush. Maki and Nobara would be proud.
There's a knock at your door. You look over at your clock and it's 3:32 am. Who is up this late at night? Another knock. Are you serious? Sleep is needed right now. You get up and open the door, fully prepared to yell at the person who was disturbing your sleep. But, it's Yuji.
He sees the look of annoyance on your face and debates on whether he should continue his speech or not. He takes the risk anyway.
“I need you to go to the living room,” he states.
“And why is that?” you ask, still obviously annoyed.
“Because! I was watching this horror movie and something moved, I swear. I ran and everyone else would yell at me! Except for you, of course,” he explains hastily. “I just wanna turn off the TV because I don't wanna hear things in my sleep and it's actually the TV noise,” he continues.
You feel bad. He’s had a living curse live inside of him and he's scared of a movie. But not any curse, the King of Curses. Maybe he has PTSD. Why would he even be watching a horror movie this late at night anyways? He doesn't like movies like that.
You give in. You tell him to get to bed while you turn off the TV. He smiles and hugs you tight. He wishes you a good night and that he’s sorry for interrupting your sleep. You grin at him in return and walk towards the living room, where the movie is playing.
When you enter the room, you don’t see a movie playing. The lights are also on. Did Yuji just lie to you? Now, you're furious. Not only did he lie to you, he woke you up at the Devil's hour just for a stupid prank.
You turn around and are about to head back to Yuji's room to give him a piece of your mind, but then you see Megumi. He’s holding two cups of hot chocolate. Tiny marshmallows are floating on top of them.
“Can we talk, please?’ He asks. He sees your shocked face. Then he sees it turns into a contemplative face. Why are you avoiding him? That hurts so much.
After a few seconds, you reply with “Why not? It would be a waste of a hot chocolate,” deciding to talk. His shoulders relax, glad that you said yes.
When you both sit on the couch, he starts the conversation. “You’ve been avoiding me,” he points out.
“Well yeah, it's awkward and I don't want anything to happen between you and Hana if she sees me together with you,” you state. You're being considerate. You wouldn't like it either if a girl kept on hanging around your boyfriend.
“Nothing happening with me and Hana,” he states.
“But you gave her your sweater,” you explain.
“I don't like her. I was just being nice. It's what Gojo would've wanted. He would've wanted me to treat everyone nicer, especially if they risked their life to save me,” he states again. What he says next is appalling.
“I don't like her, I like you,” and suddenly, Megumi can't look you in the eyes anymore. His cheeks are getting rosy and his face is turned away. You're in awe. When has he shown any interest in you? He’s always been distant and quiet around you.
“I'm not even half as pretty as she is,” you try again. Maybe this is a prank, or even better, a dream.
He looks at you again. And this is all you need to know to know that this is all real. One look in his eyes and you're enchanted. He’s also mesmerized. He likes looking into your eyes.
“You’re prettier than her. You care so much for everyone around you and I like that about you. Ever since we were in middle school, I’ve always wondered what it was like to have you as a friend. But now since I’ve felt that, I wanna know what it's like to be yours,” he finishes. His whole face is slightly pink now. Even the tips of his ears are pink.
“Okay,” you say. “Okay, let's do this, then,” you state again with more confidence in your answer.
Megumi finally exhales on that. His shoulders relax again and he's able to smile. He never smiled when Hana was around. That should’ve been a dead give away that he didn't like her.
For the next hour, you and Megumi chat. You finish the hot chocolate and laugh when he gets a milk mustache.
When you finally say good night to each other, he walks you to your dorm room and tells you that he can't wait to see you later.
Getting back in bed, you check your phone on your nightstand. It has two messages and it's from Nobara.
Nobaka: Tell Yuji to shut up, I can hear him
Sent at 3:32 am
Nobaka: DID I JUST HEAR MEGUMI’S VOICE!?!!? THIS LATE AT NIGHT?!?! YOU BETTER TELL ME WHAT HAPPENED
Sent at 4:35 am
Then you get a message from Megumi.
Megumi <3: Sleep well. And please block that guy from the ramen shop.
Sent at 4:37 am
You smile and set your phone back down on the table. Maybe December 11th isn't so bad after all to start dating Megumi Fushiguro.
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Please do not copy, translate, or alter my work without my permission!
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kitkat13001 · 3 days ago
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⊹₊⟡⋆ 𝚘𝚑, 𝚒𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚗𝚘𝚠…
⤷ mha x f!reader (use of she/her pronouns, fem. relationship labels)
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⭑ number-one hero deku, sitting on the couch across from his girlfriend in his pajamas, applying matching green face masks and giggling at the mess they’re making
⭑ cold and formidable pro-hero shoto, cross-legged on the wood-paneled floor with his wife as they share a bottle of wine, despite the large vacant table and long vacant counter, laughing quietly about the most recent scandal at work
⭑ great explosion murder god dynamight, begging for mercy as his fiancée sits atop his chest grinning triumphantly and tickling him without remorse, his eyes watering and lungs burning because she knows exactly the spot that makes him unravel 
⭑ fashion icon pinky, known for her model-worthy looks, bundled up in blankets and stolen hoodies and mismatched socks and sweatpants with her girlfriend as the two of them binge-watch all five seasons of riverdale 
⭑ charming and dashing hero chargebolt, sitting in front of the tv at seven am, sharing a blanket with his fiancée and watching cartoons and eating cereal because neither of them wanted to cook and definitely not resembling two responsible adults whose wedding is in two months
⭑ the ever cool and composed ingenium absolutely losing his shit because his wife was unaware that the dominos pasta containers are aluminum and cannot go in the microwave, as they found out the hard way, the pair now staring at a crispy microwave and charred countertop
⭑ sweet and kind uravity who becomes an absolute menace when up against her girlfriend at mario kart because they agreed the loser would do the dishes and she refuses to even touch that mountain of plates after tamale night 
⭑ the manliest of all heroes, red riot, who swears there is no manlier thing than going for drive-thru at one in the morning with his fiancée in the passenger seat because they had a fry craving
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dividers by @/cafekitsune
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artlovebot · 2 months ago
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clingy! art blurb
nsfw!
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Clingy Art who searches for you in the stands of every match he plays, and blows you kisses from the court. Who finds you directly after the match and gives you sweaty bear hugs. Sometimes letting a few tears fall into your shoulder if the match didn't turn out how he wanted. Clingy Art who lays on your chest as you do school work. He’ll come up behind you while you're cooking in the kitchen, resting his hands on your curves and his warm breath just feels so good down your neck… 
He loves to go places with you, in fact he will whine and pout if you go somewhere without him. Making it a habit to include him in your excursions. When you go shopping to treat yourself every once and a while he will insist on coming with you and practically ends up buying you half the store because how could he let his sweet girl spend her own money? You’ll take clothes to the fitting room and give him mini fashion shows as you try on the clothes.
He’ll take you to Victoria's Secret next, you insist on making him wait outside because you want to pick something special for him. After a bit of convincing he leaves you to roam free in the store with his card. You pick out a lacy pink set that perfectly matches you. 
Clingy Art, who cannot keep his hands off of you when he sees you in your new set. Palming your breasts and kissing your neck leaving marks for you to deal with later. He’ll lay you down and roam his hands over your whole body (as if he doesn't already know every inch of you) As he aligns himself with your slick folds he’ll take your hands in his and hold them above your head, letting him have full control over you.
When you both reach your peak he will run a warm bubble bath and lay you on his chest until you're fully clean and calmed down. Then you’ll put your matching pajamas on and cuddle into bed together, his hand slowly peeking up your shirt to rest on your upper back as you fall asleep in his arms. <3
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a/n: first post feeling nervous!! feel free to give any writing requests in my ask box! also this was barely proof read so lmk if there are any mistakes!
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verstappensrealwife · 4 months ago
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Get in loser, we’re going shopping. - Max verstappen x fem!Reader
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[max verstappen masterlist / f1 masterlist]
ʚɞ in which... reader takes her boyfriend, max, shopping. ʚɞ fluff  ⋆⭒˚.⋆ 1100 words ʚɞ warnings: fem!reader implied, lingerie, makeup.
-୨♡୧-
Victoria secret. Max Verstappen stood in Victoria's Secret, an unmistakable tension in his posture. He had clearly entered a world far outside his comfort zone, one where the vibrant pink stripes of the walls seemed to mock his unease. His usual confidence was nowhere to be seen as he fidgeted, eyes darting around like he was searching for an escape route, only to be met with racks of lacy bras and silk pajamas.
Every so often, he would sneak a glance at the scantily clad mannequins, immediately recoiling as though he had seen a ghost. When you picked up a particularly elaborate set of lingerie with a playful smile, Max’s gaze involuntarily followed your movements, only to snap away the moment he realized where his eyes had landed. His cheeks were turning a shade that could rival the blush of the silk and satin surrounding him.
“What do you think about this one?” you asked, holding up a dark blue, lace-up one-piece with a flourish, as if presenting a rare treasure. The garment seemed almost to sparkle in the store’s soft lighting.
Max’s eyes widened, his throat bobbing as he tried to process the question. “Oh—yeah—” His voice cracked, then steadied as he tried to muster a semblance of expertise, even though he looked like he was trying to decipher a complex mathematical formula. “Yeah. It, uh… looks good.”
You couldn’t help but snort with laughter. The sight of him standing there, awkwardly shifting from one foot to the other, was both endearing and hilarious. “Oh, come on, Max,” you said, tossing the dark blue creation into your basket with a dramatic flourish. “We can pay now. Stop worrying. You look like you’re about to break into a cold sweat.”
He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, and for a brief moment, his shoulders relaxed. As you made your way to the checkout, he kept his eyes resolutely on the floor, as if studying the intricate patterns of the carpet might somehow make this experience more bearable.
When the cashier flashed a friendly smile and began ringing up your purchases, Max’s face turned a shade of red that was almost a match for the store's pink décor. He shuffled his feet, looking everywhere but at the register, clearly relieved that the ordeal was coming to an end.
As you walked out of the store, basket in hand, Max let out a sigh of relief. “Well,” he said, trying to sound casual, “at least that’s over.” He gave you a sideways glance, and despite his discomfort, there was a hint of amusement in his eyes. “Next time, let’s do something less, uh, colorful.”
You laughed, looping your arm through his as you headed toward the next store. “Deal,” you said, still chuckling. “But I have to say, you’ve got a pretty good eye for lingerie.”
Max shot you a playful glare, though his lips twitched upward. “Just don’t make me go back there anytime soon.
Sephora. The moment you stepped in, you were greeted by the familiar scents of perfumes, the vibrant displays of makeup, and the soft lighting that made everything feel luxurious. Max followed closely, looking a bit out of place but curious nonetheless.
“Alright, what’s first here?” he asked, trying to sound enthusiastic.
You laughed, enjoying his willingness to go along with it. “Well, I need to restock on a few things. But first, let’s find you a cologne. I think you’ll like it.”
He raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical but game. “Alright, show me the way.”
You guided him to the fragrance section, where rows of sleek bottles lined the shelves. You picked up a few testers, spraying them on the little cards and holding them out for him to smell.
“This one’s nice,” you said, offering him a card with a fresh, woodsy scent.
He sniffed it, nodding in approval. “Not bad, actually. Do you like it?”
“I do,” you replied, smiling. “But let’s try a few more.”
You went through several options, each time watching his reactions as he tried to distinguish the notes—some he liked, some not so much. Finally, you both agreed on one that was a perfect balance of musk and spice.
“Alright, I’m sold,” he said with a grin. “Now, what else are we getting?”
You laughed, knowing full well he had no idea what he was in for. “Well, I need a new foundation, and maybe a lip gloss or two. You can help me pick.”
As you moved to the makeup section, Max started to loosen up, asking questions about the different products. You explained the basics of what each one did, enjoying the role reversal as he tried to understand why you needed five different shades of lipstick.
“Why not just one?” he asked, holding up a bright red tube.
You giggled, shaking your head. “Different occasions, different moods! It’s all about options.”
He seemed genuinely interested as you swatched a few colors on your hand, comparing shades and textures. “This one’s nice,” he pointed out, picking up a soft pink shade.
“Yeah? I like it too,” you said, adding it to your basket. “Good choice.”
After a while, Max even started having fun, pointing out products that caught his eye and making playful comments. By the time you reached the skincare section, he was fully engaged, asking about face masks and moisturizers.
“What does this do?” he asked, holding up a jar of night cream.
“It helps keep your skin hydrated while you sleep,” you explained, opening the jar so he could smell it.
He gave it a cautious sniff, then smiled. “Maybe I should start using this. I could have skin as nice as yours.”
You laughed, nudging him playfully. “Maybe you should! We could do face masks together.”
He smirked, a teasing glint in his eyes. “Only if you pick the least girly one for me.”
“Deal,” you agreed, feeling a warm sense of happiness that he was willing to dive into your world, even if it was just for an afternoon.
By the time you left Sephora, Max was carrying the bag, looking surprisingly pleased with himself. “You know, that wasn’t as bad as I thought it’d be,” he admitted. “And I got a new cologne out of it.”
You smiled, looping your arm through his. “See? I told you it’d be fun.”
“Alright, next time, we’re going to my store,” he warned playfully.
“Deal,” you said with a laugh. “But you might have to drag me out of the next one.”
As you walked out of the shopping centre together, you couldn’t help but feel a little closer, grateful for a boyfriend who was up for anything, even an impromptu trip into the world of Sephora.
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