#now back to working on my My Happy Marriage fic
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addledmongoose · 3 days ago
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Good Omens Fanfic Friday (22 Nov 2024)
The main reason my list is all short fics this week is because I was re-reading the Faeted series (250K; Rated G/T) by @ineffably-good, one of my favorites. Crowley is the lord of the Unseelie court. Aziraphale (Ezra here) is a English teacher who accidentally stumbles into the Fae realms. Full of adventure and romance and gorgeous worldbuilding, and my favorite Hastur & Ligur of any books.
Now on to the new recs.
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A Modest Proposal (3K; Rated G) by @a-causidicus
Crowley proposes marriage. Badly. But he gets there eventually.
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Late Night Visitors (4K; Rated T) by @waitingtobebroken
Look, just go read everything @waitingtobebroken writes, okay? I'm pretty sure this is the 5th or 6th rec of their work I've done.
Human AU. Crowley goes to Aziraphale's bookshop, very drunk and intending to seduce the gorgeous blond he finds there. He's shocked to find out the man is already married. He's really shocked to find out the man is married…to Crowley. Obviously a bit of adorable silliness here.
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how you've haunted me (11K; Rated E) by @sunriseinthesuburbs
After averting the apocalypse (again), Aziraphale and Crowley move into a cottage together. Aziraphale is going to be happy with the lovely—but platonic—relationship he's established with the love of his existence, even if he wants more. (Check the rating to see if he gets his wish).
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The Prince And The Naga (17K; Rated E) by @thescholarlystrumpet
Human AU (sorta). Prince Aziraphale tries to prove himself to his family by going off to slay a great beast, only to discover the beast wasn't what he expected. Includes NSFW art.
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But a Passing Fire (10K; Rated M) by @edosianorchids901
Set during the 14th century, Crowley is stabbed by a holy sword, and Aziraphale nurses him back to health. Aziraphale is such a sweetheart in this one.
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fake-married-my-dead-fiance · 11 months ago
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I wrote a Moon in the Day fic because of course I did that's what I do now after I watch something I like.
It's about the 20th reincarnation of Han Ri-ta and the 2nd of Do-ha, in the future.
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olymphianblood · 4 months ago
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ok guys its not funny anymore when is d&p hard lauching im starting to getting anxious /hj
#this is mostly in jest bc idk if they will and im okay with that they do what they feel comfortable and their life is none of my business#but if they plan to. can they do it faster. had a moment rewatching BIG where it got to me... wow... theyve had something REALLY special#for 15 years huh. dan is finally living his truth and a life happier than before but during this journey he had phil at a such important#point of his life. they endured so much. and probably fucked up in between bc we humans arent perfect and thats ok we make mistakes even if#they might hurt the person we love but hey. they persevered and now are thriving even more than before#and i got so emotional like... dudes... i want to tell you both thru the means where is possible for me that im so proud and so happy#for you both and you work and your journey and for experiencing pure queer joy that all queer people deserve#BUT LIKE AS MUCH AS ALL OF IT IS OBVIOUS AND SERIOUSLY DONT EVEN NEED A VERBAL CONFIRMATION ITS CLEARLY AS ITS PRESENTED#IDK I FEEL LIKE THEY HARDLAUNCHING WOULD GIVE LIKE. A SENSE OF PERMISSION FOR ME.#LIKE HEY WERE CHOOSING OURSELVES TO TELL YOU THIS INFORMATION ABOUT OUR PRIVATE LIFE#AND NOW YOURE FREE TO TALK ABOUT IT BECAUSE WE WANT TO HAVE A UPPERHAND ON THIS ON OUR PARASOCIAL RELATIONSHIP#SO ITS A BOUNDARY FOR US AND FOR YOU#AND ILL BE LIKE THANK YOU FOR THE PERMISSION. SO HAPPY FOR YOU MARRIAGE OF 15 YEARS#idk guys im weird i genuinely just like to treat celebrities like theyre just another human being i find while i go on about my day#it even took me a while to read phan rpf fics not bc i thought it was like OOOO PROBLEMATIQUE but bc i felt genuinely guilty even tho i#joined the phan bandwagon back in the day#i only let myself joke nowadays bc theyre more open and comfortable with it and such so like... i allowed myself for that and the jokes#but still. o|-< i get embarassed sometimes just bc theyve not publicaly disclosed what ARE they NOW (outside of all the soulmate metaphors)#its not a them problem tho its a me problem im too empathic for no reason#ANYWAYS SORRY FOR YAPPING ON THE TAGS CAN YOU TELL I MANAGED TO BUY MY ADHD MEDS AGAIN#j.txt
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earthtooz · 9 months ago
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cw: arranged marriage, fluff, neglect at the beginning, ratio falling hard, pining, ratio being jealous of aventurine, unedited bc i wrote this with my heart not my brain
my brain has been thinking about an arranged marriage fic with dr. ratio...
he isn't kind to you at first, less than happy to share a life with a mere acquaintance. he's heard about you before in passing, noting your achievements with a grain of salt because nothing about you particularly mattered to him, irrelevant against the mass of scrolls and books he needs to read.
you don't really disturb his normal routine too much. you move in to his estate with a fair share of your belongings, but none of them crowd his house too much. you have your own room, pristine guest room unearthed by your artistic touch.
aside from dinners, you don't get to see each other too much. he starts his mornings early, getting up at the crack of dawn to exercise and start his day with a hearty meal. you wake up later, partaking in a slow morning, and if you glanced out the window, you might be able to see your husband running laps around the expanse of his gardens.
you admire his dedication and routine, it's fascinating to live beside a genius. everyday, the chest table that sits in the living room changes, the black and white pieces never remaining where you last recalled. the size of his blackboard is impressive, and yet too small to fit all of the formulas his brain remembers, hands effortlessly dancing along the surface to scratch number after number.
a frequent order of his estate is chalk. a new pile is delivered every three days, and he goes through them without fail every time.
during dinner, he tries to spare some conversation with you. you don't tell him too much about your day, not wanting to bore him with your menial chores. he's only half-listening either way, so you'll feign understanding about his work when he explains what he's up to.
ratio is not an attentive husband, but he doesn't mistreat you, either. he allows you to spend his assets without too much care, doesn't police your everyday tasks, and also doesn't bat an eye at other men or women. his pursuit of intelligence is important, and your wellbeing would not come in between that.
your monotonous, distant routine changes one autumn dusk. you're perched in the front yard with an easel set up before you, the sky in front of you now a blend of pink-purple hues. he returns home earlier than you expected, carriage stopping at the front of his estate, and he witnesses you in your tranquil state.
the paint strokes on the canvas before you are skilled, and show years of dedication to the craft. you're so invested in the piece before you, that you don't even hear him approaching until he calls your name.
"the night turns colder with each minute. shouldn't you come inside before you fall ill?" the scholar greets, and you're snapped out of your creative reverie, looking over at him.
"oh, i had not realised. let me clean up here, first." you take your canvas off the easel, but to your surprise, your spouse kneels down to organise your oil paints back into their box.
"make haste, then," he urges.
during dinner, he can't help but be curious over your hobby, the stubborn splotches of paint clinging to your hands visible to him. that night, you engage in uninterrupted conversation, and discover that he's an artist himself- a sculptor. it calms him, and all the statues reside in a removed room, adjacent to his study.
despite your years of matrimony, you had never once dared enter his study, but the design is so fittingly him. it is organised (well, as organised a genius can be), with shelves and shelves filled with books, discarded scrolls lay around the room, but even then, his taste for greco-roman aesthetics are seen. roman dorics act like stands for little plants, and his many certificates are displayed, along with other achievements.
(his study is overwhelmingly filled with them. though you knew of the merit of the man you were arranged to be married to, you had never known just how expansive the list is. perhaps, that only made him more intimidating to you, standing beside a genius does not feel so light to say anymore.)
he shows you his sculptures, and though many of them are... self portraits... the likeness is disgustingly accurate. it was as if he had casted himself in plaster and displayed it proudly. you wonder how long he must have stared in the mirror to perfect their appearance.
but, there are also various other formidable statues. some of people you recognise. you compliment his skill and don't get to see the blush that spreads along his cheeks.
it seems that you've chipped a way into his heart, because between brushstrokes and chiselled marble, he falls in love with you.
ratio knows he didn't start off being the best husband, but he tries to now, and begins by being present. asks you to dine together where possible, listens when you're talking about your day, and the two of you can be seen venturing downtown together; an unbelievable sight for those who believed that ratio was romantically inept.
perhaps, an even more unbelievable sight, was the soft smile on his face that glanced at you very adoringly, and how you remained unaware of his affections.
and, maybe a jealous veritas ratio is just as unbelievable.
he is practically glaring daggers at the side of a certain blond's head. ratio has never been fond of the scheming businessman, aventurine, and is even less so of the fact that you seem so close to him, more than you are with your own husband. you're speaking with him like how one would with old friends, a peaceful visit to the markets turned sour by his presence.
when you finally, finally, finally, bid farewell to aventurine, who gave ratio a look that signified he was up to no good, your husband held your hand in his gloved one with an unforgiving grip. his mood is dampened for the remainder of the day, and is only made better when you enquire about his sudden glumness, visiting his office to see if he was alright.
you leave him with a kiss on the crown of his head, and a whisper of 'goodnight', before retreating to your chambers, and the only thought that circulates in his head for the rest of the night is you, and how he's going to sweep you off your feet.
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1800-fight-me · 5 months ago
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An Experiment in Desire
Aemond Targaryen x Female!Reader
Rating: E (EXPLICIT - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT)
Warnings: Explicit sex, takes place in a brothel
Word count: About 2k
Synopsis: You find yourself in a brothel and have an unexpected encounter with the one eyed prince.
Author’s note: So uh... that brothel scene in the last episode really did a number on me,,, this is the filthiest thing I've ever written and I make no apologies thanks @arcielee for the inspo! and also i borrowed this beautiful gif from @aegonx i hope that's okay!!
I do not have a taglist! Instead if you would like to be notified when I post new fics follow my side blog @jo-writes-fanfic and turn your post notifications on! Here's the link to my Aemond Masterlist if you want to check out my other stories! Also my requests are open, please send me some more!!
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You weren��t quite sure how you found yourself in this particular predicament. Despite your loud and frequent complaints throughout the night, you had none to voice now. 
It was a night out with your friends to celebrate the impending marriage of the loudest of your friend group to the baker’s boy. It was a good match, you were happy for her, she liked him well enough and he would be able to provide for her, which was as much as anyone could ask as smallfolk in King’s Landing. 
What you did object to however, was when the group decided that leaving the tavern, after entirely too many rounds of surprisingly strong beer, and heading to a brothel was a good idea. 
She had expressed nerves about her wedding night, and some of the others in your party overruled your protests and decided that bringing her to a brothel so she could ‘at least see what it’s all about’ was the perfect idea. 
You needed no such education, having laid with a man once before, well the word man was a stretch, it was a couple of years ago and he was a boy not much older than you who worked in the stables of the Red Keep. It wasn’t anything to write home about, but it had been sufficient, and your interest in sex had decreased since then. 
Now, you wondered if you had been wrong to not explore other options. The dark rooms were filled with incense, curtains, and moans of ecstacy. Many fornicators weren’t even hidden by curtains, but were completely out in the open for any and all to see. 
Your friends gasped and giggled, watching and whispering as a woman on her knees choked on a man’s cock. You were surprised that she seemed to be enjoying it, and it made you wonder if it was something you would enjoy too. 
A hand slipped into yours and you let your friends tug you along, this time you bit your lip to withhold your gasp as a man licked and feasted on a woman’s cunt. This was something you knew immediately you would enjoy, as a rush of heat filled you and you felt the desire to not just observe anymore, but to participate. 
There was a bit of commotion as a group of loud men filtered into the room and in an effort to get out of their way as the silver haired leader of the group stumbled through yanking back curtains in search for someone- your hand slipped from your friend’s and you were separated from your group. 
One of the men in the group slapped your ass, which startled you so much you stumbled back and pressed yourself against a wall in order to get away from the rowdy intruders. 
Some of the crowd paused their copulation, to look at the disruption and there were whispers. 
“What did you say?” you asked the unclothed woman walking past you. 
“That’s the king,” she replied. Then she looked you up and down, an innuendo in her eyes, and held out a beckoning hand to you. It took all your self control not to slip your hand in hers and follow her anywhere. 
Instead you politely declined with a small shake of your head, and she shrugged and continued on. You stuck to your post guarding the wall, and wondered where your friends had drifted off to. 
You decided you should wander into one of the adjoining rooms to find them, when a man stomped out of the enclosed curtained area the king and his man had gone into. 
The man was completely nude, that was the first thing you noticed. It was difficult not to notice. He was difficult not to notice. He looked like a carved statue, long hard planes of muscle everywhere on his tall form. Long flowing silver hair and an eye of sapphire also caught your eye.
You heard him mutter something to the king, “One whore is as good as another.” The king laughed, but Prince Aemond seemed to shake with anger. 
His presence was intoxicating and you couldn’t look away, especially not when he noticed your attention, and looked directly at you. 
You suddenly forgot how to breathe, how to stand, how to blink as he pinned you within his intense gaze. He stopped his stride as he approached you, standing closer than would ever be considered appropriate for a stranger, and looked you up and down. 
You resisted the urge to squirm as the nude prince dragged his gaze up your body and made you feel laid bare. 
He held a hand out to you, “Come with me.” 
Your pulse jumped and your hand itched to slip into his. 
“My prince, I am not a whore. I am here with friends…” 
He pursed his lips, “Even better. And you appear to be alone. Will you come with me or not?” 
His voice was rough with an unnamed emotion and you wanted to please him, to be the reason for relief from his torment, and you threw all caution to the wind. 
You placed your hand in his, his callouses scraping against your own, and you shivered as he brought your hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to your knuckles, as if you were a proper lady and not the bastard daughter of a blacksmith. As if this were a courtship, not a fuck between strangers in a brothel. 
He then slipped his hand across your back and down to your waist and led you out of the large room filled with others. You were quiet, but the same could not be said of the pounding of your heart as a prince of the realm led you to a room with a door. 
“What is your name?” he asked as he shut the door behind him, sealing the two of you alone in a small room with only a desk and chair within it. 
You answered and when he murmured your name back to you, your breath caught in your throat. 
“My Prince,” you breathed out as he took a step towards you. 
“Aemond,” he corrected. 
“Aemond, this is out of character for me, I-“
He raised his brow at you, and you acted rashly, fearing you were losing him, this opportunity, and decided not to talk anymore, and practically threw yourself at him. 
He groaned as his lips met yours, and as he stepped forward to meet you, your bodies collided and he guided you back a few steps until your back hit the wall. 
His tongue was inside your mouth and it was better than any kiss you’d ever had. He moved it with expertise that made your clit throb and you wondered if he would indeed want to use that tongue in other places. 
You realized there was nothing preventing you from touching him, not a single scrap of clothing, and so you let your hands explore. Down from his muscled chest, to his toned abs, lower… 
Aemond gasped in your mouth as your hand grazed his now hardening length. Your hand
continued its journey, cupping his balls and he ripped his lips from yours, a wild look in his eye. Before you could blink, he was ripping the clothes off you, baring you completely. 
You had half a second of feeling insecure as he took a step back and surveyed your naked form, before the prince murmured, “Perfect.” 
His lips and body crashed into you again, your back slamming into the wall, but you didn’t care, didn’t care, didn’t care as his bare skin brushed against yours, as all your curves pressed into his firm muscle, as his cock pressed against you, begging for attention. 
And as you reached a hand between your bodies to once again touch him, his lips pulled from
yours and he looked you in the eyes as his hand followed the same journey as your own. 
He ran a hand from the side of your throat, down your breast, taking a moment to gently squeeze and fondle which had you gasping. His thumb circled your nipple as your hand gripped his hard
cock. 
You both moaned in tandem at the action, and then his hand drifted lower, lower, and lower still, until his large hand cupped your mound and found you soaked beyond belief. 
He groaned as those nimble fingers spread your lips and explored your soaked cunt, quickly finding your clit, just as you rubbed your thumb across the sensitive underside of cock. 
“Fuck,” you panted as you both pleasured one another with your hands. You gripped and pumped his cock as you stared into his lust blown gaze. 
This, you’d never felt so wanted, so attractive, so powerful as when you held a prince
of the realm’s pleasure in your hand. 
His fingers drifted, and with a smirk, he plunged two inside you. You gasped, pleasure unlike
any other as your cunt squeezed him. 
And you could see that release was barreling towards you both, you knew he could tell the same as he batted your hand from him, yanked his hand out of you, and pressed you back against the wall. 
His lips were on you again, consuming you, as he lifted you up, using the leverage of the wall and you followed his lead as you wrapped your legs around his trim waist. 
His tongue tangled with your own as he plunged his cock inside you. 
His impressive length hit you deeper than you’d ever experienced before and you let out a whine. He chuckled, a cocky sound, and gripped the flesh of your hips tightly as he began thrusting in and out. 
You let your head fall back against the wall as you submitted to the waves of pleasure he brought you. 
His lips pressed against your throat, his
tongue and teeth, taking turns to make you whine as he continued to thrust inside you, his tempo hard and punishing and rough and everything you needed. You tried to grind down on him, to meet his thrusts, but he growled and gripped you tighter, pressed you harder against the wall, and you submitted control to him completely and let him use you. 
One hand tangled in his hair, the other gripped any muscle you could find, as his lips traveled down your throat to your breasts. 
As he licked and sucked your nipple, his cock hit the deepest part of you, and his groin ground against your clit, you shattered completely. 
You practically screamed his name as you came harder than you’d ever experienced before. 
This only encouraged him, and his grip on you tightened, you knew you would have bruises tomorrow, and you clenched down his cock as his thrusts increased in pace and intensity. The unholy squelching sound as he pounded inside you was music to your ears, you had no room to be bashful, not as you felt full, deliciously so. 
The frames on the wall shook as he pounded into you, and just as he was about to reach ecstasy, he pulled out of you and put you back on your own two feet. 
You watched as the prince touched himself, that large hand gripping his even larger cock, and your cunt throbbed at the sight. He moaned as his come splattered all across your stomach and breasts. 
You both watched each other, panting, coming down from unbelievable heights. You looked at his beautiful form and thought he was carved by the gods. 
He lifted your head with a finger under your chin, and as you met his gaze once more, and he pressed a swift kiss to your lips. 
“Perhaps we’ll meet again,” he murmured. Then he dropped his hand from your face, turned and left the room. 
You stood there, alone, completely naked, and covered in a royal come and wondered how you found yourself in this situation, but also hoped it could someday be repeated.
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byuntrash101 · 8 months ago
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𖤐 𝕯𝖆𝖒𝖓𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓 𝖔𝖋 𝖆 𝕾𝖆𝖎𝖓𝖙 𖤐
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pairing — fem!nun!reader x sin of lust!seonghwa ft. ateez as the other sins
rating — smut | mdni
wc — 13.7k
synopsis — life is dull when you are an immortal being such as seonghwa. every day is the same and you live (or rather, merely exist) through the times crushed by the burden of boredom. until something new comes along in the form of a kind, compassionate and righteous newly ordained nun. and so the sin of lust makes it his personal mission to corrupt the purest of souls: yours.
nsfw tags under the cut
tags — *strap up babes this is a wild one*, a tad of plot, my attempt at humor, heavy religious/blasphemous themes (don't read if you're uncomfy <3), inclusive writing (reader is not physically described), also reader is the embodiment of purity, 20240127 hwa (moodboard here), kinda slow burn kinda vibes, so much tensionnn, mentions of a pxrn magazine, sooo much teasing, hot make out sesh, dom!hwa, also very sly demon!hwa, virgin!reader, supernatural sex, corruption kink (obviously), masturbation (f), oral (f), the (un)holy trinity =teasing, begging, mind breaking), thigh riding, nipple play, clit play, some light impact play (kitty slaps + 1 face slap), breath play, hair pulling, fingering (f), monster cock!hwa, size training, pet names (angel, love, darling, sweetheart), praising, degradation (slut, whore), unprotected sex (don’t recommend), denied and ruined orgasm (f), dumbification, multiple orgasms (f), overstim, an ungodly amount of cum, cumflation, lil breeding kink at the very end
playlist — me and the devil by soap&skin, unholy by sam smith, going to hell by the pretty reckless, smells blood by kensuke ushio, american horror show by snow wife, toc toc toc by zazie
ateez masterlist | navigation
a/n: i had an absolute blast working over my fave fic ever posted. i love it even more now <3
also wanted to say a special thank you to @hwaightme who really helped me pulled through with one <3 ily bai <3333
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Seonghwa was bored out of his mind. Like he had been for decades now, even centuries. He couldn’t remember what it was like to feel… well… anything at all really. And after years upon years of vegetating he didn’t care enough to even try anymore. He just laid there, endlessly staring blankly at the emptiness. He tapped his slender finger on his thigh, comfortably set on the bed of dark purple smoke he had materialized out of thin air.
He let out an audible annoyed groan as he was nonchalantly stretching out his long limbs which didn’t fail to catch the attention of the others.
“What’s wrong?” Yeosang asked as he was feasting on some delicious meal he poofed out magically. He didn’t even take a second to look up the bucket full of chicken drumsticks, wrapping his greasy fingers around the bone and eyeing the meat like one would their life long partner. But then again, that wasn’t too far from the truth for Yeosang.
“I’m bored” Seonghwa complained, pushing his long silky black hair back on his forehead and choosing to ignore Yeosang’s lack of interest, dragging out the word on his tongue, transmitting his state of utter apathy to the others.
“Why don’t you go up and play with the Humans?” Mingi suggested while checking himself out in the mirror, readjusting his bangs and sliding his sunglasses up the bridge of his nose before striking a pose to himself, remaining completely self absorbed.
Once again, Seonghwa wasn’t getting much attention from his counterparts but he was somewhat used to it when it came to Mingi.
“What’s the point? They are no fun anyways!” Seonghwa sat up straight and crossed his long elegant legs on the cloud of cotton like smoke.
“Why?” Jongho asked, unlike the others he deigned looking in Seonghwa’s direction with somewhat surprised eyes. “You used to love going around and breaking up happy marriages, luring men and women in with your charms… That was always fun!” He said a little sluggishly, but still with as much enthusiasm as he could muster.
“Yeah… Maybe it was…” Seonghwa replied. “Two millenniums ago…” Another prolonged sigh. “When everything still felt fresh.” He got up from the comfortable cloud of smoke, pacing the endless void as his heels clacked and echoed with each step.  “Now I know that Humans are only self centered vile creatures who only claim to have better morals than us because they are scared of the consequences that inevitably ensue from succumbing to their primal desires. When in fact, all they want is to eat, kill, have sex or not do anything at all. They are nothing short of underdeveloped, unevolved, spineless piles of meat” 
“Meat? Where?” Yeosang said, finally lifting his head from the bucket of fried chicken to look around, eyes rounded in panic.
Not a single one of them reacted except Mingi who side eyed him with disdain before returning to more important matters at hand such as swapping the aviator sunglasses for narrower, more rectangular ones.
“That’s not entirely false” Jongho concluded, shrugging, easily giving up on the idea of comforting Seonghwa.
“I mean where’s the fun if you can’t break their minds to give in?” Seonghwa placed both hands on Jongho's shoulders, slightly shaking him while the latter lifelessly swayed back and forth. “What is the point if they don’t resist the call of evil? If you can’t erode their will like a rock made smooth by the incessant beating of the waves of the cruel sea.” Seonghwa huffed in a quiet, defeated voice, letting go of Jongho's shoulders to let his arms hang at his side while the other one stared at him blankly.
“Hm… okay” Jongho said before slipping off Seonghwa's reach to take his place on the fluffy bed of purple smoke, crashing head first onto the soft cloud.
A silence settled for what seemed like a long moment, even for them, immutable creatures to whom the very concept of time couldn't grasp at their permanence.
“Well you never tried with that girl…” Wooyoung said, slithering his way to Seonghwa without a sound. He had been watching the scene unfold from afar up until then. “What was her name already?” He snapped his fingers and looked to the side trying to access his memory. He turned to Mingi for help but he was too busy looking through the mirror, slipping on yet another dangling necklace and smirking, satisfied at the results.  Wooyoung then tried his luck with Yeosang but he now had his face buried in a huge bowl of chicken broth, the empty bucket of fried chicken abandoned and slurping up a big mouthful of noodles in a rather unpleasant way. “Jongho?” he called, finally settling for the one that looked almost passed out on the bed of smoke, but still this one wielded the most positive result.
“Y/n” Jongho responded without conviction, still laying flat on the cloud of smoke, eyes growing heavier by the second.
“Yeah! That’s right!” Wooyoung exclaimed. “That girl is unbreakable,” he affirmed. Seonghwa scoffed and threw an unconvinced look to his peer.
“No really! I’ve tried to corrupt her but I really couldn’t”. Wooyoung said, raising his brows and talking loudly to support his point. But that did little to persuade Seonghwa, he was convinced that Wooyoung was just not as good as him at breaking the mortals’ souls. So yes, it was possible that Wooyoung had struggled with that girl. But not him, surely not him.
When Wooyoung saw Seonghwa was not budging his face dropped, and he turned to the others. “Please someone back me up on this one” 
“Oh yeaaah… I remember her” Yeosang said, voice cut by various sounds of loud lips smacking and open mouth chewing. “Even I tried!”
Now, that was different. Seonghwa was interested. Most people are quick to indulge themselves when it comes to food. It was, so to speak, the easiest sin of the seven to succumb to. The Humans often say “there’s always room for dessert” and innocently eat a generous slice of cake after devouring a full meal. They don’t even notice Yeosang forcing the big spoon full of buttery sugary goodness into their mouths. They don’t even know Yeosang, himself, made this saying. 
“She refused to even do as much as taste the delicious meal I made her sister cook for her even though she was starving… instead she gave it to the homeless man living not far from her apartment.” Yeosang stated with aberration shaking his head in disappointment before plunging right back in the ramyeon bowl.
“Hmmm” Seonghwa scratched his chin, his curiosity for the mysterious righteous girl was piqued.
“One day I tried to make her give in” Jongho chipped in from the dark purple smoke bed, even pushing himself on his elbows to look at the others, to Seonghwa’s surprise. “Made her miss the train and the bus she needed to take to get home after work and conveniently laid a juicy wallet stuffed full of even juicier bills in the gutter. All she had to do was to bend down and get the money to take a taxi to her apartment. But instead she took the money and walked to the police station to report the lost wallet, which was in the opposite direction by the way and then walked back home only to take a shower and leave right after to attend the charity soup kitchen. Anddd… Explaining this made me tired. Please don't talk to me for the next two hundred years, thank you.” Jongho concluded in one single breath before laying back down and turning on his side to nap comfortably.
“Maybe that one can be interesting after all” Seonghwa thought aloud, his pretty face taking on a pensive frown, his sharp brows joining on his forehead.
“Yeah no kidding” Wooyoung added. “And you don’t know the best part yet…” A perfidious and sly smile pulled on his handsome features. “She was just ordained nun.”
Seonghwa’s face turned serious as his eyes snapped back to Wooyoung. All of a sudden the girl went from distraction of the day to possibly the ultimate challenge of corruption Seonghwa has been waiting for god knows how long (and he surely did not use the expression lightly).
“Don’t mess with me, Envy!” Seonghwa spat, suddenly calling Wooyoung by his biblical name, testifying the gravity of his statement.
“I’m not kidding, Lust” Wooyoung mocked Seonghwa’s serious tone by also using his sin name. “She decided the life of material things wasn’t the way to happiness so she devoted herself to a humbler one, gifting her time and belongings to the poor and destitutes while she devoted her body to God. God only…” Wooyoung said, feigning nonchalance while he snaked an arm around Seonghwa’s shoulders. “Look… Here she is” he purred in his neck.
With a flick of his wrist, green smoke emanated from thin air and formed a pierced circle where in the middle the reflection of a girl could be seen. She was quiet, in the very humble room, a single window shone down onto the bed as she knelt at its side, palms joined, retreated into silent prayers.
She’s perfect.
That was Seonghwa’s first thought as an obscene smirk tugged at his mouth, his tongue swiping across his lips making them shiny and wet. He eyed the girl kneeling by the bed as he lowered his chin, one strand of hair falling over the piercing siren eyes. The black and white uniform she was wearing, the habit, couldn’t fool the seasoned eyes of Seonghwa. All the fabric in the world couldn’t hide away the glorious curves of her body, the beautiful arch of her back leading to the roundness of her bottom gently resting on her heels. The holy swells of her chest softly lifting the thick black material of the habit and the simple wooden cross held by humble twine she was wearing around her neck.
Divine.
Was what described her best.
“She’s stunning,” Seonghwa huffed in a soft murmur, mesmerized and captivated by the image Wooyoung was showing him. And he smirked in victory, relishing on the way he had convinced his peer, once again living up to his name and very nature.
“Yeah I know.” Mingi said, finally turning his face away from his reflection to address Seonghwa. “I thought with such a pretty face she’d be easy to convince that she’s above everyone else and just make her a pretentious too-far-up-her-own-ass bitch. But I quickly realized she was a lost cause” he concluded, shrugging and stepping away from the mirror, sitting down next to Jongho, already fast asleep only to materialize another handheld mirror. seconds later.
“Yes…” Seonghwa spoke softly as he stared intensely at the girl. “She just might do.”
***
You were on cleaning duty at the church today after the mass. Even if the church was quite big it didn’t intimidate you. You settled the two buckets of warm soapy water and your floor cloth before tying your hair up in a rather unaesthetic but very practical hairdo and stretched your shoulders before giving yourself a determined little nod.
You started with scrubbing the ancient cobblestone of the old church with soap and a lot of elbow grease. Then you immediately followed up with dusting the chairs, the altar and the numerous effigies. 
You diligently washed, dusted, scrubbed, cleaned, polished, until everything was neat and right. Simply happy and content with the idea of being useful to the community. The rhythmic sounds of your hard bristle brush against the pavements were setting the pace of the silence which helped you connect to the spiritual nature of the ancient place of worship.
But as you were tidying the confessional booth you noticed a small piece of colorful paper peeking from underneath the bench lined with worn burgundy red velvet. When your hands reached under the seat and hazardly caught the object you knew it was a magazine from the glossy feeling of the paper underneath your fingertips and when you finally let your eyes fall on it you realized the nature of the magazine.
Porn. A pornographic magazine.
The cover displayed several nude women adopting very suggestive poses, one of them even dangerously leaning her face towards the intimate parts of another one.
The obscene imagery made your heart race and you started to feel dizzy. You sat yourself on the bench and rested the lewd magazine in your lap. You took a deep breath and, very slowly, parted the red curtains to make sure you were alone in the church. Then you opened the magazine and flipped the cover page.
“Oh my… Look at that! She is flipping the pages!” Yeosang exclaimed.
“Oh she’s definitely curious about it,” Mingi laughed, his lips stretching into a satisfied half smile. But Seonghwa was more cautious, he refused to believe it just yet. Something about your body language was not right.
“Shhh” he shushed the others and motioned for them to keep looking through the green smoke.
As your fingers glided across each page. You felt hot in the face with each scene more obscene than the last one, tension building in your neck. 
Seonghwa didn’t lose sight of you for a second, his lips curling on his teeth in a vicious smile as your trembling fingers went over every single page, your wide open eyes darting to every corner of each page. He could almost hear your heart thumping in your chest he could almost taste the adrenaline in your blood.
When you came to the end of it and closed out the magazine you sighed, letting your shoulders drop, closing your eyes in relief.
“Well…” you started “nobody left their name in it” you said to yourself, completely unaware the demons were spying on your every move. Not that you expected that anybody would leave their signature in such a piece of literature but still you had to at least try to find the rightful owner before taking actions.
A loud complaint erupted from the demons. All in disbelief. You looked at the magazine, true. But it was not for an impure purpose. It was only in the hopes of finding the name of the true owner and hopefully, returning it back to them. You had no interest in the salacious scenes presented in the glossy pages. The rushing blood to your cheeks wasn’t due to any feeling of arousal or libidinousness. It was only the shame of invading someone’s privacy.
Once again your intentions were completely commendable. Immaculate.
As the demons protested and complained, Seonghwa, on the other hand, stayed completely silent as he watched you bring the magazine to a trash bin without an ounce of regret. He wasn’t disappointed, he was excited. He felt excitement. A feeling so distant and faded that it felt foreign. Seonghwa had forgotten all about this thrill. He didn’t remember how tingles tickled the tip of his cold fingers or how his guts swirled around in frenzy. This feeling was joy. Pure joy. Sweet intoxicating euphoria. And it was all thanks to you.
“I’m gonna have so much fun with you” he whispered to you, as if you could hear him, his eyes glued to the reflection in the pierced circle of deep green smoke, he whispered to the image of the unsuspecting girl discarding the impure magazine. A paltry, too poor of a stratagem to have you yield to the darkness. You, the pious and saintly nun.
***
You never really liked cooking, before you joined the covenant your sister was always the one in the kitchen preparing delicious home cooked meals for the family. But what you did like on the other hand was helping. Usually you cleaned up the kitchen but when your sister was running out of time she would ask you to peel the vegetables or cut them. So naturally cutting the vegetables was not your favorite task around the convent. You liked cleaning and tidying up better. Only because you were more on the active side and you liked how cleaning would make you break up a sweat when the whole monastery needed a dust off but nonetheless what you liked most was to help the community. And knowing the soup you were cooking up with the help of two of your sisters was going to feed everyone was a fulfilling feeling. Well enough to make you happy.
So you were contemplating life cutting off the homegrown zucchinis when Sister Chaeyoung started to giggle. You didn’t pay much attention until Sister Nayeon started to snicker along with her.
You lift your eyes up and the both of them instantly stiffened up and started to act suspicious.
“What are you laughing about you two?” you asked, an amused smile playing on your lips.
“Oh nothing” Nayeon said, hiding something behind her back.
“Come on, I want to laugh too” you said, the smile spreading further on your face, lifting up your cheeks adorably.
You three were the youngest in the convent so you did many duties together, you grew quite close with the girls.
Chaeyoung ripped something from Nayeon’s hand and proudly showed it to you.
“Look at this carrot” she said, puffing an adorable laugh.
It was true the carrot had quite the… interesting shape. First of all it was quite large, abnormally thick for a simple carrot. Homegrown vegetables were never like the perfectly shaped ones you could find at the store and it was definitely the case for this one. It had a slight upward curve and the extremity had a very distinctive shape. It was phallic.
You delicately took the vegetable from the hands of Chaeyoung to examine the orange root closely.
It was almost unnatural how close the resemblance was, like it couldn’t be due to fortuity… The thick tip, the robust and curved upright shaft, the asperities reminiscent of the blood engorged veins, even the small slit at the top… The details were impressive.
“Look look” Mingi exclaimed, nudging Seonghwa in the ribs as he observed you through the green fog. “She looks interested. I think she’s done this time”. He declared self-assured, cocking a single eyebrow. But Seonghwa remained completely silent but a smirk pulled on his lips when he noticed how you were eyeing the forbidden vegetable (no pun intended), how your throat seemed to thickly swallow and how your lip slightly trembled.
It felt so empowering, finally getting to chip away at your strong willed spirit, finally getting lust to creep under your skin. For these long seconds of contemplation, Seonghwa could only imagine the wicked places your mind raced to. But right when he was about to open his mouth and declare victory. You laughed.
Seonghwa’s eyes nearly popped out of their sockets as this laugh ripped through him, like a dagger through the skin.
You laughed so openly, your head hung back, eyes creased. The laugh was like the rest of you, joyful, clear and pure.
You are only amused by such a coincidence. Nothing more, nothing less. Of course it was funny and you were never the stuck up kind and it felt right to have a bit of lighthearted fun with your younger sisters.
“I guess she’s only laughing at your stupid tricks,” Wooyoung said, his sly smirk mocking Seonghwa’s failure.
“Fuck off Wooyoung” Seonghwa spat as he watched the scene unfold.
The three of you just laughed, enjoying this bonding moment together while the stricter, older sisters and the Mother Superior weren’t there to dim down your childish and silly amusement. It was just some playful, innocent humor to you.
Nothing to shake your faith or virtue.
“Now let’s finish up the soup, girls” you said, setting the amusing carrot on the cutting board. Before chopping it up and tossing the pieces in the big pot.
“Maybe we should have kept it” Chaeyoung whispered with pouty lips. “It could have been useful.”
“Don’t be silly,” you replied with a smile.
Seonghwa felt anger bubbling up in his stomach and rushing through his veins to burn down his chest and neck. As much as he hated to admit it… Wooyoung was right, these stupid tricks were no match for the unwavering righteousness of your mind. These would certainly suffice if it was any other soul but not yours. Not you.
So Seonghwa resolved to resort to drastic measures. Something he hasn’t done for centuries. But something necessary. This anger he felt, the deception upon failing once again. He hadn’t felt that in so long, he felt alive finally. It was ironic how an immortal soul would forget how to feel alive for the simple reason that nothing is a threat to their existence. Their presence is immutable, infinite, certain. Therefore unexciting, monotonous and lifeless.
The negative feelings reminded Seonghwa of a purpose he once had, they reminded him of the stakes that used to be. In a way you reminded Seonghwa what it felt like to feel. You reminded him what it meant to be alive. Him, the unholy and vile Sin of Lust.
***
“You cannot be serious,” Hongjoong exclaimed, rubbing the deep crease between his eyebrows, this conversation was starting to give the Guardian of the Gate a headache.
“I am most certainly serious,” Seonghwa assured. “Now is the best time.”
“Why?” Hongjoong asked. “I’m sorry but I can’t let you through unless you give me a solid explanation.”
“Come on Joongie~” Seonghwa said innocently smiling at him leaning on the smaller man in front of him, wrapping his arms around his waist and tilting his head adorably. “You and I go way back, right?” 
“Your ways have no power against me, Lust. You know that.” Hongjoong just looked at him scornfully. “Now if you don’t tell me your plan I’ll shut the gates for the next century.”
“What has this place come to? We used to be able to go and play with humans all day and not get questioned,'' Seonghwa complained, throwing his hands in the air and slipping away from Hongjoong. But the latter didn’t budge. “Fine” Seonghwa spat.
“You see my dear friend, today she’s ovulating. Her body is most likely to respond to the primitive instinct of the survival of the species. Meaning that her spirit is most likely to be weaker.” Seonghwa explained his reasoning. 
“But how do you plan on actually interacting with her? You know you won’t be able to have physical contact, you'll go through her like a ghost. Unless she summons you. And I don’t see how or even why she would call your name three times” Wooyoung pointed out, as he was watching the feud from afar.
“I know that I’m not stupid” Seonghwa said with an eyeroll and a sigh. “I won’t need to touch her to break her” he assured.
“But how if she can’t even see you?” Hongjoong yelled, ready to pluck the hair out of his head. Seonghwa was about to become the Guardian's breaking point.
“Hey relax, okay” Seonghwa said, slipping behind the man and gently pinching the muscles of his shoulders. “You are starting to look like San.”
“What did you say about me? “ San yelled from across the empty space, interrupting his card game with Yunho. 
“Just play” Yunho instructed with a monotonous fed up tone, pointing his chin towards the deck of cards.
“This game is stupid anyways!!” San screamed before flipping the table over in a loud grunt as the cards flew everywhere, floating gracefully to the ground. Yunho sighed deeply.
“He always does this…” he whispered to himself, getting off the chair and walking to Hongjoong and Seonghwa as Jongho was peacefully snoring close by.
“How can he sleep through this?” Yeosang looked at Jongho in disbelief, as he was stuffing more cheesecake into his mouth. Yunho scoffed.
“How can you eat through this?” Yunho underlined and Yeosang just shrugged before smiling with his mouth still full, earning disgusted grunts and complaints from the others. 
“Can we focus for one minute here?” Hongjoong interrupted, desperately trying to get back on track. “How are you going to corrupt her if she can’t see you?”
“Oh but she will see me” Seonghwa smirked.
“Not in the monastery she won’t, not on sacred ground” Wooyoung mocked his overly confident tone.
“It’s true, you know” Yunho chipped in, putting his large palm on Seonghwa’s shoulder. “I can’t believe I’m about to say that but… I think you’re being greedy” Yunho concluded, as Seonghwa whipped his head to him.
“Wow… That’s so out of character for you.”
“Well that should speak volumes about the foolishness of your plan” Yunho shrugged, taking his hand back.
“It’s not foolish because she will see me. For the simple reason that she will invite me in” Seonghwa’s smirk grew wider as silence settled in the unholy space between hell and earth. Wooyoung laughed hysterically, holding his ribs as he wiped off a tear in the corner of his eyes.
“And how will you manage that?” Hongjoong asked with a raised, unimpressed eyebrow.
Just then a chiming sound could be heard in the emptiness. Seonghwa fished out of his pocket a small human device. All in the room looked incredulous As Seonghwa smirked at the small screen illuminating his pretty face.
“Since when did you-” Hongjoong started but Seonghwa simply brought his long pointer finger to his lips and shushed him.
“She’s waiting for me”
***
“A disaster” Mother superior exclaimed as she threw her arms at her side, looking at the flooded basement. “We cannot go to the retreat and leave until the problem is fixed. The humidity can damage the foundations of the monastery. “I’ll stay and sort it out.”
The sisters all let out frustrated sighs.
“You should go Mother” you stepped in. “The sisters need you at the retreat as well as the faithful… I’ll stay and get things in order. You can count on me” you said with a determined nod and a smile, tightly holding the wooden cross on your chest.
As much as you wanted to go. Someone needed to stay, that much was undeniable and the wisdom of the Mother Superior was needed at Lourdes. So it wasn’t without a little sting at the heart that you waved goodbye to a bus full of your friends, your sisters.
You went back in and sighed at the mess. The ancient timber beams were slowly soaking up the stagnant water, the old stones of the walls were being eroded and the humidity was not good news for the cheeses you were maturing, not even mentioning the ruined mushrooms you were about to harvest before the disaster. Of course the boiler was old and rustic but Mother Superior always made sure it was checked annually and repaired when it was needed before any damage could be done. But even the most diligent measures sometimes can’t prevent the unforeseeable hazards of life.
You went back up and searched for a plumber in the local newspaper. Luckily there was an ad for one that was living in town.
Park, plumbing/heating engineering at your service, the flashy ad read.
You looked at the time, it was late afternoon, probably a little too late to take up a new job, but you figured there was still hope he could at least pick up the phone and maybe appoint a day to come have a look at the leakage. You didn’t waste anymore time and dialed the phone number in the ancient and only phone located in the Mother Superior’s office.
As the tone rang you suddenly got nervous. Ever since you joined the convent you didn’t interact much with the outside world except the followers coming to church or the people you were helping. So this upcoming conversation was making you agitated.
“Hello, Park, plumbing and heating engineer, how can I help you?” You are surprised by the voice at the end of the line. You never expected such a smooth, melodic voice to pick up the phone.
“H-Hi! I’m Sister y/n from the Monastery of the Sacred Mission, our basement flooded, we think the boiler possibly needs to be replaced. Is it possible for you to come take a look?”
“Oh! Sorry to hear that. I’m guessing much damage has been done…” his concerned tone somewhat eased your nerves.
“Unfortunately yes”
“I see… I can come right now”
“Really?” you blinked your eyes twice in surprise. “Well that would be marvelous” you said cheerfully “but wouldn’t you be working past hours? I fear there’s quite a lot of work” you ask concerned.
“It’s okay. You help others so much. Now it’s my time to help you” his tone changed, a subtle switch you can’t put into words but the difference sent a shiver down your spine.
“Thank you”
***
“Thank you so much for coming this quickly” you thanked the man as he stood in the impressive frame of the heavy convent door.
You took a step aside to let him in but he just stood before the front steps not moving an inch. You threw him a puzzled look but he just stared back blankly at you. There was a moment of hesitation on his behalf that left you quite perplexed.
“Please come in” you hesitantly said while amicably smiling at the man.
“Thank you” he simply responded, almost sounding relieved.
As soon as he stepped foot in the door frame you felt a cold breeze run on your neck under the habit and shivers run down your spine. Autumn was indeed well advanced now but such cold winds were usually never felt before winter. Of course, you made little of a simple gust of wind.
“Hi. I’m Sister y/n. Nice to meet you” you stuck your hand out to him. He looked down at it and fumbled with the tool boxes but opted for a polite nod instead of a handshake.
“Sorry, I’ve been working all day and my hands are dirty” he laughed nervously “and the name is Seonghwa” he flashed the brightest smile you have ever seen. For a second your heart skipped a beat and a foreign feeling blossomed in your chest. You never expected this unknown plumber to be this handsome.
He had long and shiny raven black hair perfectly framing his face and just as healthy thick eyebrows complimenting the dark, round and benevolent eyes, reminiscent of boba pearls. A long elegant neck, a defined jawline, high cheekbones and tanned olive glossy skin.
His body was cladded in an unbuttoned navy blue overall that let peek out a simple white t-shirt underneath. You could tell the outfit had undergone various difficult jobs as the fabric was thinned out at his knees and had various stains of paints and plaster.
He looked like a kind man. Like the kind of person you would give communion to without confession. The kind of person that just has a good heart. It was that kind of reassuring and warm aura that you felt from him, something that put you at ease right away.
You led him to the faulty boiler.
Right away he got on one knee and started to inspect the recalcitrant piece of machinery.
“Well I’ll leave you to work on your own” you said as you retreated to take your leave. Seonghwa only politely nodded and smiled in your direction before turning his attention back to the problem.
While the plumber was working you put your time to good use and organized the paperwork of the Mother superior. Doing such work was always tedious for her because she wasn’t exactly the organized kind of woman but you were. You knew doing that you would be of great help. Since the task was quite large, it took quite a long time and it’s only when your stomach emitted a loud grumble that you realized the evening was well advanced.
You figured Mr. Park was hungry or at the very least thirsty after working for so long. So you grabbed a metal tray and brought him a set of the specialty sugar cookies the convent was selling along with a generous serving of cold water embellished with a dash of freshly squeezed lemon juice to make sure Mr. Park’s thirst would be thoroughly quenched.
When you passed the archway that was leading to the boiler room your heart nearly stopped beating when your eyes met the working man.
Swiftly you spinned on your feet and hid behind the wall, only peeking an eye out the corner to still be able to witness the novel scene taking place in front of you.
Seonghwa had tightened the sleeves of his blue overalls around his waist and was wiping the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand, clearly the labor was not restful. You couldn’t tell if it was from sweat or from the leaking water but his white t-shirt was wet and sticking to his skin, making the fabric lightly translucid. You could guess the dark pinkish color of his nipples and the outline of his well built body underneath. The short sleeves of his t-shirt were rolled up and were tightly hugging his arms while his long fingers were wrapped around a wrench as each twist of his wrist was making the veins of his forearm bulge out.
You loudly gulped down a lump in your throat. Your hands tightly held onto the tray in fear of letting it fall to your feet.
But your misery was far from over because before you could realize it Seonghwa was pulling on his shirt and passing it over his head. Every muscle of his back moving around, contracting and relaxing in a beautiful dance, shining under the golden hour sun seeping through the small single window of the basement. Water and sweat was running down his back and at his flanks, when he turned around, your eyes dashed around his naked upper body. You couldn’t decide where to settle them. His collarbones, his pecs, his abs, the dent at the sides of his abdomen, his (very) low resting overalls…
Your heart was about to give out. You had seen male bodies before, never in real life that was true but you did once or twice on TV or on billboard ads of men’s underwear.
But, never, you felt something like that. That feeling. This tingly feeling budding in the low pit of your stomach, making your guts stir around, making your palms sweaty, making your heart helplessly hammer against your ribs, making your eyes widen as you couldn’t peel them off the naked wet skin of the handsome stranger. This feeling of immoral interest for another person’s body, this longing for somebody else’s touch.
This feeling of Lust.
It was completely foreign to you.
If it wasn’t for Seonghwa you would have chugged the whole carafe of lemony water by yourself because you never felt your throat as dry as it felt right now.
“Look! Look!” San shouted, wrapping a strong hand around Wooyoung’s forearm and making him wince in pain as they both stared at you through the green smoke. “Y/n is giving in!”
“Look at the way she’s staring at him!” Yeosang said, briefly reaching for a napkin to wipe his mouth.
“Wow” Yunho added “She definitely isn’t thinking about church-appropriate things”. Yunho laughed but Mingi scoffed.
“If she likes him, wait till I show my human form. I’m infinitely more good looking than him”
“Not everything’s about you, Mingi” Yunho scolded him.
With trembling hands you settled the metal tray onto the window sill. You poured a glass of water and presented it to Seonghwa.
“Here” you unexpectedly manage to keep your voice calm and steady. “I figured you might be thirsty or hungry.”
“Oh thanks” he said, wrapping his hand around the glass, carefully avoiding touching your hand in the process, probably trying not to get sweat and dirt smeared on you. “I just got done actually”
“Oh wonderful” you exclaimed, maybe a little louder than expected. Maybe eager to get rid of that immoral feeling that was awakened by his presence. Seonghwa cocked an eyebrow and gave you a puzzled look at the unexpected outburst of joy.
“Why? Are you impatient to throw me out?” he smirked, pushing his long and soaked hair back as he took a step closer, doe eyes narrowing, becoming sharp. You did your best to lock your eyes with his, not to let them wander down his still half naked body. Seonghwa didn’t make any effort to cover himself. Your heart seemed to be trying to break through your rib cage to get a chance to beat closer to Seonghwa’s chest.
“No, it’s just that…” you took a step back “you have been working for so long you must be wanting to go back to the comfort of your home” you quickly get back on your feet before smiling politely at him, trying to conceal your uneasiness.
“Why?” he asked tit for tat, taking a step closer again, siren eyes bored deep into yours, trying to lull you in. “No one is waiting for me at home.”
Seonghwa heard the faintest little gasp escape your lips and he knew you were shaken. You, the unwavering nun, the faithful saint. You were at last considering him. Contemplating giving in to the primal and lowly instinct of desire.
Seonghwa sensed it. He saw it in the way you hurriedly licked your dry bottom lip, he saw it in the way your eyes darted between his lips and his eyes, he saw it in the way you stopped backing away from him.
You, y/n, you were giving in to pure sensual need. No love, no sentiment involved. Only desire to feel a complete stranger’s body against yours, only pure, untainted lust.
If only he could touch you. If only he could, it would be so much easier to help you gently fall into the welcoming and serene arms of corruption. But he couldn’t and that was making the whole experiment that much more exciting. He had to use deceit and trickery. Like a siren numbing your mind with a beautiful song.
But if you gave the slightest hint of submitting, if you let your guard down and let him into your heart then he would have won and that was all that mattered. If you tilted your head and you puckered up your lips to kiss him, if you took a step towards him to press your body against his, if your lifted your hand to feel his wet, glistening skin under your fingers, if you did anything to welcome the unholy desire, if you opened yourself to lust, then touching you would have been unnecessary because Seonghwa would have won and you and God would have lost.
And victory was oh so close. So close when he was as near to you as he could. So close when he slowly approached his face to yours. So close when your heart was pumping scorching hot blood through your veins, so close when your mouth started to water, so close when your lips started to quiver, so close when your eyelid started to flutter but…
Again, you stepped back.
“WHAT?!” San shouted.
“No way!!” Yeosang added, staring at your unsuspecting reflection in the green smoke.
Seonghwa’s shoulder dropped along with the satisfied little smirk.
“Thank you for fixing the boiler this quickly, Mr Park” you said, averting your eyes, finally breaking the spell he had casted on you and peeling your eyes off him.
Seonghwa had cried victory too soon. He had counted the chicken eggs before they hatched, he had put the cart before the horse. In other words… he had underestimated you.
He underestimated your will, your faith and your unwavering sense of righteousness. The other Sins had warned him though but he didn’t listen. They told him it was impossible to bend you. All of them had tried before and none succeeded so it was undeniable now that Seonghwa was just going to join them in failure.
“Don’t worry about it” he smiled at you, disappointment peeking behind his shiny brown orbs.
Seonghwa had accepted defeat when you led him back to the door of the convent. He walked away but turned around half way only to see your still body standing straight in the doorframe, perfectly incarnating your strong, unbending mind.
You only politely smiled when you pushed the big heavy door with difficulty, finally closing it in with a loud thud.
“Fuck… I guess Seonghwa failed too…” Yunho stated as he watched you close the door. But Wooyoung looked at you with a knowing grin.
“I’m not so sure…” he said as the smirk tugged further at his lips.
***
When you finally escaped Seonghwa’s taunting eyes, you leaned your back on the sturdy door, your spirit drained, your mind exhausted. You closed your eyes to catch a breath but the only thing you could see was the working man’s godlike figure carved onto your retinas, the translucent white t-shirt clinging to his golden skin, the sweat dripping down his temples and wetting the beautiful long strands of black hair, the bulging veins of his forearms and the dents engraved at both side of his lower stomach. And the more you thought about it, the quicker your breathing got.
You were all alone here… Your sisters and Mother superior were all gone. What wrong could it cause if you gave in just this once? Not that much, right?…. Just this once.
With big strides you walked to the kitchen and handpicked a nicely shaped carrot, almost regretting not listening to Chaeyoung and keeping that other one.
But this one was going to do the trick. It was not too thick and just long enough to help you carry out your shameful business but not too big to actually taint you and strip you of the precious veil of chastity that you managed to keep intact all of these years.
You climbed up the stairs with haste, avoiding the marble eyes of the holy figures represented in the halls only to take refuge in your bedroom.
You slipped out of your shoes and laid on your bed. You didn’t even bother taking the habit off, it wasn’t going to take long anyway, you simply pulled it up.
When you slid off the white panties you realized how soaked you were. You couldn’t believe it. Your whole life you’ve never felt this way, the feeling was overwhelming and needed to be dealt with immediately. Yes, that was what you were doing simply ridding yourself of an impure feeling! 
You whipped out the orange root and clumsily rubbed the thinner tip on yourself. The cold sensation took you aback and pulled a small gasp from your lips.
You coated the root with your juices and then you aimed it at your entrance. You slid the carrot inside, it was too thin to hurt in any way but it was well long enough. When you reached the bottom of yourself you couldn’t help but to let out a satisfied grunt at the sensation of the vegetable rubbing against your sensitive spot.
You pulled it back out and slid it back in, this time a little faster. Heat gained over your body as your eyes fluttered close and you recalled the unfairly handsome and devilishly sexy working man.
The muscles of his back, his long slender neck, his collarbones, his beautiful sun kissed skin.
“Aaah” you sigh. “Seonghwa” his name rolled off your tongue so naturally, almost like it was meant to be said like this.
His long and dark wet hair, his plush lips getting close to yours, his warm breath fanning your face.
“Seonghwa” you moaned again, more high pitched this time as your wrist was getting more and more reckless, each time deliciously scrubbing your walls in divine and forbidden pleasure.
The way he looked at you, the way his dark eyes were filled with the same desire you had for him. The way they spoke volumes about the sinful things he wanted to do to you. And God… did you almost let him have his way with you.
You started to clench around the root, each time you pulled it out your walls were eagerly gripping on it, refusing to let it go, so you smashed it back in with force to grant their wish. Your walls quivered around the vegetable, a foreign and unknown euphoria was taking over you and you knew you were done for.
“I’m… ngh… c-cumming” you whispered to yourself as you felt the tightness in your core reach a brand new level. “Seonghwa” you cried out one more time, being only a few back-and-forths away from your sweet release but alas you couldn’t pull it through.
Because without knowing, without realizing, completely unsuspecting, you called his name. You called his name three times. You summoned him.
Purple smoke started to erupt from the corner of the small dimly lit room by the late evening sun. With terror you ripped the vegetable out before you could finish and covered your modesty with the habit you were still wearing.
From the smoke appeared slick black leather chelsea boots resting under a pair of anthracite gray dress pants coated with a shiny silverish finish. As the smoke got thinner you could distinguish a matching cropped blazer with an asymmetrical and deconstructed silver vest underneath that was held together by one single button right under his neck, you could see the soft and glistening golden skin underneath. And finally when the smoke was completely gone you saw his face. The sharp features and the slender slithering body reminiscent of the one of a serpent, eyes just as sharp and presence just as menacing. A face you hadn't known for long but couldn't forget. Seonghwa’s face.
But he looked different. His long bangs weren’t framing his face anymore, instead he had tied the long wavy strands in a high half bun. His aura was also different from when he was wearing the blue and spotted overalls. Now cladded in the revealing ensemble he looked expensive, confident and sensual.
Your jaw practically dropped to the floor when your mind finally wrapped around the information your eyes were transmitting.
“Well well…” Seonghwa stepped closer while you jolted yourself up the bed, your body cornered between the headboard and the wall.
“What are you?” you whispered with trembling lips, heart pounding, adrenaline rushing through your veins, ready to flee if need be.
Seonghwa looked at you, puzzled for a second. Then he laughed, head tilting back. The laugh made the hair in your nape stand. It was unnatural, cold and fundamentally evil.
“Me?” he asked. Right then you felt your body being magically lifted from the soft mattress. You shrieked again, utterly confused while Seonghwa’s magic slammed you against the bare walls of the humble bedroom, the tip of your toes barely scraping the worn out wooden floor.
“Oh my, please pardon my awful manners,” he said in an overly polite tone. “I’m Seonghwa, Cardinal Sin of Lust” he said, bowing respectfully, elegantly bringing his right hand on his chest in a princely manner. “But for you, love…” Seonghwa stepped towards you, taking his time to look at you. He leaned on your ear to whisper.
“I’m a dream come true” his voice was deep, sultry, self-assured. Everything you’d imagine it to be.
A faint gasp escaped your lips as you felt his warm breath on your neck.
You wanted to scream to all heavens, you had brought a demon into the convent. You had desecrated the sacred ground of this place of worship, your home. You led the wolf to the sheeps. But you couldn’t scream, you couldn’t even if your life depended on it. 
“W-what do you want?” you managed to push the few words past your teeth. Your voice, perfect opposite of the one of the demon: muted and trembling.
“Just want to finish my business with you” his face stayed right where it was, nestled in the crook of your neck. Lips so close you could feel the heat radiating from them but somehow they were still too far, unable to touch you.
“What business?” you whimpered.
“Darling.” Seonghwa clicked his tongue and shook his head in disapproval. “There’s no point in fighting anymore. Stop playing dumb with me. I know you’re a smart girl.” He took a deep breath, inhaling the sweet scent of your shampoo. “I already won, darling… that very second you decided to give in to the thought of me. That second you closed the big heavy door and thought you escaped my eyes. That very second I had won.” A wicked smirk pulled on his lips. But his words didn’t make any sense to you.
This languish was torture, this state of expectation, of suspense. This proximity. You wished it would just stop. Be it touching you for good or get away finally. Just as if he read your mind he got even closer. Now it wasn’t only his lips taunting the thin skin of your neck, it was his whole body, hovering over yours; but still… Not touching you.
“Sure winning felt good. But you know what feels even better, darling?” You couldn’t bring yourself to formulate words and only whimpered in response.
“I asked you a question, sweetheart” he grinned, relishing on your anguish, placing both of his palms at both sides of your face, trapping your frail figure between his arms and the wall.
“It’s to finally touch you.”
So he finally let himself take a deep dive into you. The plush warm lips crash onto your neck, giving wet sloppy open mouth kisses while you couldn’t help but to tilt your head back giving him more access.
“What a good girl you are” he purred, not taking the time to part his lips from you.
His left hand went to your chin and turned it to make you face him, without much hesitation he planted a wet kiss on your lips, your cute whimpers and gasps were the perfect opportunity to deepen the kiss.
The kiss got heated as Seonghwa pried your hesitant mouth open with his long thumb and pushed his tongue inside to breach your lips. His delicious taste spread through your mouth, making your head dizzy. He tasted like candy, like you just took a bite of the juiciest strawberry. Ripe, just in season, absolutely delicious.
You moaned into his mouth and he smirked as his grip around your chin got tighter, he lifted his knee to part your legs and his thigh rubbed against your center through the habit. You couldn’t help but to moan louder, the unsolicited pleasurable friction made you incapable of reciprocating the kiss, your dangling feet nervously giving small kicks in the air.
Seonghwa finally parted from you, allowing you to catch your breath. But he was far from done with you.
“I know you long for more than this, angel” he whistled while his hand went up your thigh, still clothed with the thick black fabric of the habit. “I know you languish for pleasure” his blunt nails went up your arm and you realized you were still holding onto the carrot. He ripped the root from your hand.
“You won’t need this anymore” he said before smashing the poor vegetable on the ground sending millions of orange pieces flying across the room, you flinched once more at the demonstration of strength.
“Mine is much bigger than this. But don’t worry, love, I’ll make you nice and ready for me” he purred before placing both of his strong hands on the habit and just like that with astonishing ease he rips through the black gown. But not only, everything covering you is ripped in two and that also goes for your bra that fell to the ground. With the deafening sound of the fabric ripping you found yourself completely naked in front of the demon apart from the veil on your hair and the rosary beads laying on your chest.
You flinched and your hands flew to cover your nude frame but Seonghwa once again laughed and you felt an irresistible magical force pin your wrists at each side of your face. You sniveled and squirmed trying your hardest to go against the invisible force to hide away from the avid eyes of the demon.
“How cute.” The demon snickered when you failed to fight back. “Sweetheart, you don’t get to hide anything when you look this good” he said in a breath, eyes darting over your naked figure. From your dangling feet, to your thighs tightly pressed together, to your flushed face and to the Rosary beads sitting between your gorgeous breasts, swaying every time you kept trying to break away from the spell pinning you against the wall.
He brought a cold hand to the side of your breast, you couldn’t help but to moan as you felt his soft hand against you, his finger suddenly pinching your sensitive and hardened nipples. You let out a high pitched whimper.
“So sensitive” Seonghwa mocked you before he flicked the sensitive bud. Then he lifted his hand to harshly slap against the innocent lump of flesh, you jumped in surprise at the sensation. The surprise didn’t lie in the sudden surge of pain but rather from the enjoyment you got out of it, the sting sending electricity down your spine to light up your core.
With another faint movement of the head Seonghwa made you open your legs widely. You whimpered and felt tears build up in the corners of your eyes when he finally laid eyes on your most private part. And you realized with dread how wet you were. Soaked. Juices streaming down to your inner thighs making them glisten under his persistent gaze.
“Fuck, sweetheart” he exhaled out one heavy breath. “You got this fucking wet for me?” he said as he crouched down, inching his face dangerously close to your exposed center.
Embarrassment and shame reached an unbearable level, tears finally spilled out of your eyes, wetting your cheeks as you squirmed, trying your best to escape Seonghwa’s spell.
“So here’s the little hole I’m going to split in two” he said as his breath brushed over your wet folds.
You squirmed even harder, somehow feeling Seonghwa’s spell loosen around your wrists and ankles. But when he aimed his pointer finger right on your swollen bundle of nerves, earning a loud scream from you, the sudden pleasure from the perfect amount of pressure he applied on you made you completely immobile. Torn between the need for more of the foreign forbidden joy but also the fear and shame of letting the demon have his way with you, tainting you, taking away your most precious possession: your purity.
“What? Are you not fighting me off anymore?” He started to draw small circles on your bud. Your wetness made it easy for his finger to glide across the small and stiff nub. You moaned a little louder and he started going faster.
“Does it feel good, angel?” his voice went down an octave as pleasure got to your head, making the room spin, luckily you don’t have to stand on your legs.
Seonghwa went even faster when you didn’t reply.
“I said, does it feel good?” his tone was as harsh as his restless teasing of your clit. Hellish circles sending blazing heat to your whole body as you felt the pleasure rising in the deepest part of your core, your walls quivering on themselves.
But Seonghwa slowed down at the worst moment, a wicked smirk pulling on his plump lips, narrowing his piercing siren eyes.
“Good little sluts should answer when asked a question.” His pace was now just fast enough to keep you at your limit, each spasm of your core, testifying of the agonizing muted pleasure he was inflicting on you.
“Answer!” he ordered while he delightfully pressed on your painfully sensitive bundle of nerves.
“YES!! Yes it feels good” you blurted out, panting, sweat pearling between your breasts, giving in to the pressure.
“Good girl” he praised as he finally lifted his hand from your sensitive parts. You sighed in both relief of finally being let off the hook but also in frustration at the displeasing feeling of his denial.
But before you could celebrate or pester he pushed that very same finger inside you. You didn’t know by what ungodly miracle he managed to aim straight at your sensitive spot, but he did, applying divine pressure deep inside you. Your eyes instantly rolled to the back of your head as you felt the will of fighting off slipping through your fingers.
Seonghwa chuckled at your reaction, he was enjoying himself very much. After centuries of boredom he intended to savor every second of your agony.
“Darling, you really are hungry for my fingers, aren’t you? Your slutty little cunt is gripping so tightly” he chuckled again while he pulled his finger back. You hated how right he was. You hated how you felt your walls clench around him, how you felt your own body crave for more of him as soon as his finger slipped out.
But the yearning didn’t last long because he pushed past your entrance again, this time fitting two fingers inside you, taking the time to gently stretch you until his blunt nails reached as deeply as they could.
You let out a moan through gritted teeth, the pleasure making beads of sweat pearl at the sides of your face.
“Fuck! Your virgin little pussy just loves to be stretched out like this, doesn’t it?” He leaned even closer to your sopping center.
Tears continued to run down your cheeks as pleasure rose again. Seonghwa picked up the pace, stretching your walls so deliciously, pumping his two fingers in and out of you, each time he pulled out he ripped a moan out of you. Again, you started to twitch around his fingers and he smirked down on you. Pleasure continuously grew as you made this silent prayer that he would finally take you over the edge, over the barrier of this beautiful and forbidden land that you stayed away from all these years.
But again he slowed down and came to a stop. This time tears of pure frustration ran down your cheeks as you pathetically bucked your hips up trying to fight against Seonghwa’s spell pinning you down the wall.
“Aww.” He cooed in a mocking tone. “Darling, I’m sorry… were you about to cum?” He said while you shot him a death glare. He chuckled at your reddened cheeks and your frowned brows.
His finger swiped across your fold, pressing on the lonely bud once and you instantly dropped the angered look, your eyes drooped at the sensation and you couldn’t help but to grind against him, your womanliness made so eager by his touches.
“Fuck, look at you” he slipped one finger back inside, pumping it very slowly in and out. You bit down on your lip. “Acting so fucking distant only a few minutes ago…” he added a second one as you moaned out in bliss. “When in fact you were craving this… craving me…” he fitted a third one inside your already crowded heat as your moans now mixed with confused sobs. The intense feeling of pain and pleasure blending into a dangerous cocktail.
“Fuckkk” you cursed out, allowing yourself another sin you managed to avoid up until now, which has the demon showing more teeth.
“What a good little slut taking all of my fingers so good” he said as he took his time thoroughly stretching you out, his blunt nails pushing against your sensitive spot, while his face was closing in the distance with your intimate parts. Your eyes fluttered close as the muscles in your neck gave out and you let your head hang back on the wall.
“Look at me” Seonghwa grunted and your eyes snapped back open instantly meeting his dark ones, his irises seemed to go black with perversion.
“Now I’m gonna make you cum” He announced as he picked up the pace once more, you can tell he didn’t intend to stop before it was over. “I want you to never forget this. This feeling you’re about to experience.” His wrist took on a punishing pace as your eyes were locked with his. Pleasure sending radiating heat through your body, chest heaving up and down as you moan out loudly with your jaw hanging open. “Every time you’ll think of me I curse you to feel exactly… like… this”
Seonghwa finally wrapped his mouth around your lonely and eager little clit, flicking his tongue on it as his fingers relentlessly punched your g spot, both sources of pleasure go to your head and your first orgasm finally drops over you like a wave, taking you away with its raging current.
Your cum squirts out of your body, water like fluid rushing out of you and filling Seonghwa’s mouth, drenching his neck and exposed chest in the asymmetrical silver vest. He moaned, lips against yours and sending delicious vibrations into you.
You screamed out as the level of pleasure ripped through you, your walls clenching around Seonghwa and twitching uncontrollably as your whole body shook, still magically pinned down to the wall.
When you finally settled down he slowed down and took his fingers out of you, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and licking his fingers clean.
“Hmmm” he hummed contentedly and smacked his lips, seemingly enjoying your taste. “It’s true… Good little sluts, like you, taste much better”.
Seonghwa cut the spell and stood back up, your exhausted body dropping to the floor, your weakened legs unable to support your weight.
Seonghwa had enough of this teasing and had grown impatient. He brushed back the cum-soaked locks of charcoal black hair sticking to his forehead and cheeks, the wet skin of his chest glistening under the silver asymmetrical vest. Your eyes trailed down below the belt you gasped as you saw the outline of what was hidden from your eyes all this time… Even still restricted by the fabric of the shiny gray dress pants, the thickness and the length had your heart racing again.
“I want to feel you around me. Now.” he ordered, in a sultry tone that lifted goosebumps all over your naked skin.
Suddenly your body was magically lifted up again but this time Seonghwa threw you on the bed. The veil was barely hanging onto your hair anymore.
Seonghwa walked to you as he took off the cropped blazer along with the rest of his clothes. You gulped down at the sight of his nude and perfectly sculpted body standing beside you. The glistening chest made wet with sweat and cum, dripping down his abs even down to his groin where you barely even dared to look.
There it was. The Absolute Sin.
Seonghwa’s long, thick, twitching, veiny, hard cock.
You could have screamed at the monstrous thing if you weren’t still in a daze from your first crushing orgasm . It was so thick, so long you couldn’t even begin to imagine how this was about to fit inside you.
Seonghwa chuckled when he caught the panic swimming in your wide eyes. He thrived on this fear. And he knew exactly how it was going to go. And he couldn’t wait. He couldn’t wait to see the very same doe eyes grow heavy with pleasure and look back at him with need when you will inevitably beg him to keep going, to never stop fucking you. Because he broke you once and he intended to do it over and over and over again until you will no longer remember anything but him.
Seonghwa dipped both his knees at your sides, his body weight making yours sink in the soft mattress while he shimmied his way up between your wide open legs.
He rubbed the thick blazing hot tip on your still very sensitive bud while he stared down at the place your two bodies met. You tried not to moan by biting down on your bottom lip.
“Please” you meekly whimpered, his dark eyes shot back to yours.
“Please what?” he slithered between his teeth, smirking.
“Please don’t… do that…” you puffed, as fear crushed your chest. Seonghwa snickered again and brought his hand to very gently and softly brush his thumb over your wet cheeks and lips.
“Darling” his deep voice purred so softly. “You are not under any spell here. You can control this tiny little body of yours. So go ahead” he taunted you as his hand went down from your face to your sensitive nipples. “Go ahead and close your legs.”
What? No… It isn’t possible.
There was no way he was not the one forcing your thighs apart like this. But when you gave it a try, when you attempted to lift your ankle it actually worked. You indeed could move. But… somehow you…. still didn’t.
“Come on show me. Go ahead, pretty” his hand went down again to your stomach. “Close your legs on this poor, aching, desperate….” he flicked his pointer finger on your clit “virgin little pussy”. The sweet sting made you moan out and arch your back instinctively.
Seonghwa waited a few seconds staring down at you with amusement as you didn't move an inch. Your body kept your legs nice and wide for him against your own will.
“You know what?” he took his hand back and you swallowed back a whine and the loss of contact. “Okay, I won’t… if you are still this strong headed after all of this maybe you’re right. You are a pure spirit and I can admit defeat when I have lost.”
The smug look he wore completely gave him away. You knew it was a ruse, a ploy to get to you, to toy with you but you weren’t listening to reason anymore, only your delirious body tortured with vicious need and you just couldn’t risk it. You couldn’t risk him leaving you, not like this.
“NO!” you wailed, extending your hand to him as he was already getting off the bed and on to his feet. “I-…I-… Ok… do it”
Seonghwa’s expression here took a turn. The smug smile was completely wiped off his face, only dark brown and grave eyes looking down on your naked frame.
“Yeah?” he came back to bed and laid over you. He brought his lips close to your ear and he seductively whispered against your neck as your eyes fluttered close. “If you want it, sweetheart. You’ll have to properly beg for it”.
Your eyes snapped open. But Seonghwa only looked dead serious.
“I- I-” you started but Seonghwa lifted his hand to let it slap against your wet cunt. The whacking sound bounced off the bare walls and the stinging pain had you grunting in unsolicited pleasure.
“I said properly. I want to believe you” his voice had nothing of the playful undertone it had a few moments ago. You didn’t think twice, maybe not even at all.
“Please, Seonghwa. I implore you to fuck me. Please fuck and use my slutty virgin cunt as much as you’d like. Please hurt me and rip my virginity away. I want to scream and cry out your name. I want to be yours. I want to forget everything about the good girl I used to be, I want to be your whore. Forget about my soul, just take it with you back to hell.”
Silence fell as a grin played on his lips. It’s not smug or playful, it’s wicked, downright evil. 
You were not just begging him. The desperate prose was not just a plea. It was a prayer. You were praying for him to taint you. Begging him to take away your purity like it was nothing but a nuisance to you, discarding it. Seeing you abandon your values and principles was the greatest achievement, a victory so sweet it made Seonghwa lose control. The feeling was intoxicating, blissfully filling his veins and making his evil heart thump. In his infinite existence he had never felt that. And it was all thanks to you.
Suddenly his body was elevated in the air and purple smoke enveloped him again. For a second you were scared that he was actually leaving you but the thought vanished as quick as it appeared when you heard the distinctive shrill sound of the metal scraping against the wall. You looked above your head and you witnessed with dread the crucifix above your bed being slowly turned upside down, engraving the white plaster of the bare walls. The foreboding omen lifted goosebumps off your skin and sent a cold shiver down your spine.
Soon you saw his body peek out as the smoke evaporated. It was still him but he had changed.
Huge wings were open behind his back, covered in raven black lustrous feathers, shining under the moonlight peeking from the window as the dark night was now settled. Two black horns have pierced his skin at each side of his head, pointing upwards, resembling the ones of a spanish bull. His body, somehow, looked even more defined, the muscles of his abs and shoulders seemed to bulge out. He looked strong, ominous, dangerous.
“You have such a way with words” he said as he floated back between your legs and settled his huge cock on your stomach. “Now I’m gonna make all of your wishes come true”. He brushed the tip of his cock, wet with precum, once again on your slick folds. “I've never fucked a mortal in my true form before.” he started, still rubbing against you, the muted pleasure making your brain fuzzy. “I can’t guarantee you’ll come out of this alive”.
But you were already set on it and if you had to die, so be it…
“I don’t care” you whispered as your eyebrows met and you looked back at him with need.
You braced yourself when you felt him finally push himself inside you. You could practically hear your hymen rip in two to make way for his huge cock. The puny little carrot could have never compared to the size of him.
“What a good little slut you are,” he cooed, before grunting as you were gripping around him. “Willing to die for a round of fun on my big cock”.
Sharp throbbing pain ripped through your lower stomach as you frowned and grunted.
“I know…” Seonghwa purred as he leaned over in your ear “I’m big” he said as he finally reached the bottom of you, linking his hips with yours. And he pulled out a lot faster than when he came in. Your eyes rolled back and you crushed the pillow over your mouth to yell in it.
But when he went back in again somehow the ache had lessened and pleasure was slowly taking its place. Soon the pain, as sharp as it was, vanished to become only a vague memory you couldn’t even recall as your mind was too preoccupied by the incommensurable pleasure Seonghwa made you feel.
“Fucking whore” Seonghwa grunted as he mercilessly ramed up your pussy, making it the shape of his cock. “Cheating on God feels good, doesn’t it? Your whorish little cunt can’t resist this fat demon cock, can it?” he growled.
You started twitching once again around him and Seonghwa instantly recognized the familiar clench he felt earlier around his fingers.
“Are you going to cum?” he asked, panting above you.
You couldn’t even process the words you were hearing as your eyes rolled back and your jaw fell open. But you were brought back to your senses when Seonghwa’s big clawed hand slapped your cheek forcefully. The burning pain took you aback and stopped your never ending ascension to pleasure. You whined a complaint and Seonghwa grabbed your face into a strong grip making your lips pout.
“Good little whores have to ask first” he said, still deeply pounding your precious little pussy.
“Pleasepleaseplease… C-can I cum?... F-fuckk… Please” you mumbled as his pace made it hard to hold yourself back.
“No!” he responded sternly. “Not now” he said, smirking evilly. Enjoying this anguish in your eyes as you tried your best to control your body. He brought his hand and pinched hard on your swollen little clit.
“Aaaah” you screamed, arching your back and pressing your head back into the soft mattress.
“You’ll cum when I’ll tell you too” he snickered, looking down at you. And the pleasure kept on building, frustrated tears starting to wet your cheeks again.
“My God please…” you whined, as tears streamed down your face and your pussy clenched around his thick cock. Seonghwa scoffed.
“Sorry but he has left you, darling.” He started to draw circles on your sensitive and aching clit, still maintaining the punishing pace of his cock rearranging your guts, making the rosary beads jump along with your breasts with each powerful thrust. You cry out as it’s becoming nearly impossible to keep yourself from cumming. “He abandoned you to me” he growled, his low voice sending electricity down your core.
“Pleaseeeee” you pleaded once more, desperation oozing out of your broken up voice and finally Seonghwa pronounced the magic words.
“Cum. Cum for me like the godless little whore that you are”
Finally you let go. You let Seonghwa’s skillful hand and monstrous, merciless cock take you down to the hellish pit of lustful sin. Pleasure took over you and clouded your vision, everything came to a blur as you could only concentrate on the throbbing of your cunt around Seonghwa’s thick dick. You moaned out his name in pure agonizing bliss. The orgasm was even longer lasting, even stronger than the one he gave you moments ago. And you knew for a fact now that there was no going back.
The good girl that you were had died, Seonghwa killed her. And you had let him do it without batting an eyelash. But fuck did it feel good. You felt no shame, no regrets, only unholy desire for the demon’s heavenly cock.
Soon the high wore off but Seonghwa didn’t seem to care and kept on pounding you, taking a bruising grip on your parted thighs with both his hands.
“Please” you whimpered again as your poor little pussy might split in two from clenching and throbbing this much right after an earth shattering orgasm. Seonghwa chuckled in between heavy breaths.
“I just came” you cried out, turning into an over-stimulated mess.
“I don’t care” he spat, using you like a fucktoy just like he pleased, after all you had asked him to do so… ‘to fuck and use your slutty virgin cunt as much as he’d like’. The exhausted quivering of your restless pussy started to build up again and before you could even realize it, Seonghwa’s thick cock had you flirting with the edge of the bottomless pleasure pit again.
“Please” you whined “Please stop” you begged him, breast lewdly jumping up and down with each of his brutal thrusts. But he kept on going, growling as his eyebrows met, handsome face contorted in pleasure, biting his lip. Body pressed over yours and full black feathered wings completely concealing you, one of his horns even scraping the wall with one too violent move.
“Pleaseeeee” you whimpered yet again. And suddenly your body was being lifted and flipped over by Seonghwa’s spell. You land on all fours, completely confused but worst of all, completely empty.
“Don’t you get it?” Seonghwa said as he slowly pushed himself back into your soft, warm little throbbing cunt. You moaned as you gladly took him back. “You sold your soul to me. You don’t get to ask for anything anymore. So I’ll fuck you for as long as I see it fit” He said before pushing down on your face, shoving your head into a shamefully submissive position, your ass up in the air, ready to be destroyed by him once more.
His fat cock parted you so deliciously as lewd wet sounds rang to your ears. It was like your once virgin pussy had completely taken the shape of his monstrous dick. Every movement he made ripped a delighted moan out of your lips, you didn’t have the will to fight anymore. You only wanted him and this delectable high he made you feel.
“Fuckkk” you cried out as he started to go faster again, the quiver in your lower stomach making a quick return.
“You’re my thing now.” He ripped the veil of your hair, the last relic of your past self and sent it flying across the room. He grabbed a fistfull of your hair, harshly pulling on it maintaining your face forward but your chin still firmly planted in the mattress, asserting his dominance on your frail figure. “My toy, you hear?” the sting on your scalp added to the full feeling of his cock had you completely fucked out. Your eyes rolled as heat spreaded through you again, your jaw fell open and your tongue slipped out. You were fucked out dumb, completely. Brain nice and thoughtless just from him.
“Yeshhh” you mumbled.
“I’m gonna make you cum again and this time I will fill your dirty little cunt with my cum” The obscene sounds of his balls slapping against your slick folds and clit bounced off the walls.
“Yesshh pwweathe” you replied as your tongue slapped against your chin with each inhuman thrust of his hips deep into you, sending strings of drool on your chin and staining the sheets.
“Today you’re ovulating, you know what it means?”
Your eyes snapped back open.
“I’m gonna force a child into you. You’ll take my seed into your fertile womb and life will sprout inside you” His grip on your hair tightened and you felt him start to twitch inside you.
“You’d like that?” he teases, knowing the answer.
“Yesssshhhhh!!!” you yelled, you were ready for anything if it meant he’d let you cum again.
“Then take it. Take my cum you depraved slut” His second hand left your hips to grab the rosary still around your neck, twisting his wrist to wrap the beads around his fingers and pulling on it while still maintaining his grasp on your hair.
Bloodstream to your brain became restrained and you started to feel dizzy. A deliciously light headed sensation filled your head up as your pussy quivered with a third orgasm. Your hungry cunt squeezed Seonghwa’s thick length as if its life depended on it, demanding every last drop of cum the demon had to offer. You clenched and throbbed around him in pure joyful sin as he took you to the deepest part of this abysmal and cursed pleasure, taking your sanity and everything that was left of the old you to the pits of hell with him.
Seonghwa’s rhythm faltered and he shuddered and grunted in bliss as his throbbing cock gushed out streams after streams of piping hot cum that stained your walls with white, shooting straight up to your womb, assuredly knocking you up in the process. 
You yelled and moaned one last time. You were so full of him, belly round and swollen with the ungodly amount of cum Seonghwa gracefully gifted you. You were so unbelievably full that you couldn't help but to let it flow out of you and run down your thighs, no matter how much you clenched to keep it all inside. 
You were in heaven. This was pure euphoria. A kind of contentment not any amount of spirituality and virtue could ever give you. The kind of happiness you could only experience when you let go of everything you’ve ever known to throw yourself into the arms of the most pleasurable sin of all.
Lust.
***
The next morning when you woke up at dawn with the chirping birds you felt nauseous and disoriented. You looked around the room and found it immaculate. Your habit was not ripped in two, it was neatly folded on the wooden bedside table along with your veil and underwear. The room was clean and neat: no traces of small pieces of orange carrot anywhere or puddles of cum on the wooden floor. And you were wearing a comfortable full length pyjama gown.
In a flash, disjointed memories came back to you. You remembered the anthracite gray suit, the black bull horns, the raven wings, the defined abs, the devilishly handsome good looks, the tempting smirk and the huge thick angry cock and the immense forbidden pleasure that came along with it.
You sat up and looked behind you hastily, the wall was perfectly smooth, no scrapes of the black horns and most of all the crucifix was perfectly normal, hanging right side up.
You spotted the small, thin, intact carrot next to your pillow and sighed in relief. Yes, you had sinned but you knew if you confessed and prayed hard enough God would forgive you. Afterall, you had never done such a thing and it was shameful and wrong, yes, but they were far greater sins than this one, like selling your soul to the Sin of Lust and bearing his child… You shook your head, chasing away the blurry memory of the nightmare, feeling a weird tingly build up in your lower stomach as you saw flashes of the evil smirks and the huge monstrous-
“It was a dream” you said out loud, sighing, hoping the sound of your own voice would prevent your mind from imagining more of the sinful imagery. “Just a meaningless dream” you told yourself again.
Convinced the soreness between your legs was only due to masturbating for the first time, that the nausea was nothing to worry about and that the spasm inside your belly were benign little cramps.
Seonghwa smirked in victory as he looked at you through the pierced purple smoke. He made it. He broke you beyond repair. He went, won and marked you. And soon he would back to take what you had promised him: an offspring and your soul, body and mind, you.
“See you soon, y/n” he chuckled.
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a/n: leave a comment or even a cheeky lil reblog if you liked it <3
taglist: @written-in-flowers @wlv-asteria @wisejudgedragonhairdo @skz1-4-3 @atinism @watamotee33 @sanhwalvr @alicedawitchbish @caratsmatic @reeateez @bts-army380 @woohwababes @yoonivjpg @salam2salang @seokqt @hotteokkay @itza-meee @stanredvelvetforstdprotection @meowmeeps @ingloriousbasterdss @roomsofangel @cheynalexilaiho @kyukyustar @seonghwasstar @oddracha @aaa-sia @lol-imtrash2000 @luminouskalopsia @yandere-stories @shocymer @bangchansbackohmygod
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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 month ago
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The Vow 1
Warnings: non/dubcon, arranged marriage, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Character: mob!August Walker
Summary: your father's murder leaves you in the hands of a dangerous man.
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️
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"This is how we stay safe," your mother tugs the laces so your lurch. 
Your eyes widen at your reflection. The gown is tight yet too big. The bodice pinches as your mother yanks and yanks. The skirt is full and fluffy. Layers and layers of tulle.  
You can't breathe but you don't think its the boning. You touch the front of the gown, feeling the delicate embroidery, and shudder as you exhale. Strange how days before you wore black and cried, now you're in white in what many deem the happiest day if your life. 
"Hasn't he taken enough--" 
"Shh!" She whips her finger up. "He can always take more. Your father didn't think so but he can, god rest. There's always something to lose." 
"Mom," you croak. You've never seen her afraid. She's always been pompous, always unfazed, but now her eyes are like sparklers, flickering and frantic. "I'm scared." 
"Be scared but be obedient. And smile," she moves around you and frames your face, "smile. Please. He can always change his mind. Don't let him. If he does, we are lost." 
"How do you know? Daddy's gone. We can leave--" 
"The vultures are waiting," she snarls. "Don't you understand? It's only the wolf that keeps them at bay." 
"Why... why would he want me? If daddy--" 
"Hush, I won't tell you again. Do not speak of your father. Especially in front of him." She dabs your lip with her thumb as she fixes your make up, "from this day forth, he is the only man in your life. Understand?" 
You pout. That night comes back. The echoing bang the woke you, your mother's scream, and the barrels that pointed through your doorway. Quick, clean, horrifying. As if your father never was. 
"Yes." 
"You better. You know this man is cruel. Do you want to test him?" 
You shake your head and she lets you go. You back away and heave. You won't mess up the hours of work put into your hair and face. If you look in the mirror again, you will. 
You stare at your skirts as your mother pins the veil on your head. She pulls on it, arranging it around you. It drapes almost to your feet. 
A knock at the door. She goes to it. Whispers. The door stays open. Your mother calls your name. Your soles stick before you can make yourself move. 
As you get to her, your mother takes you by your wrist. You feel her warmth through the lacy gloves. She guides you behind a party of women. Some you recognise, some you don't. Their makeup is thickly caked on and their hair teased. 
"Look up," your mother snaps under her breath and lets you go. "You will not shame your family by hiding." 
You raise your head. Your head is light and bobbly. You march down the hallway behind the train of solemn women. 
You’ve never met the man who killed your father. The very same you are about to face. The one you are to marry. It’s the sort of irony that hurts. 
You’re stopped as the other women keep going. They leave you, one by one, until it is only your mother. She gives your hand a final squeeze and goes. You wait alone, uncertain. 
The music changes and you flinch. You know you have to go but you don’t want to. You don’t want to die either. And you don’t want to lose your mom. She’s all you have left. 
You can picture the house. Ransacked, bullet-riddled, crowded with strange men. You push away the memories and step forward. One foot in front of the other. Keep going. That’s what this life will be. Do what has to be done, not what you want. 
You enter the large hall. Peaked ceilings, music echoing off the walls, full pews, and a man waiting. You look ahead to the figure at the altar. Two, but the shorter one fades into the background. The priest is a blue as your eyes fixate on the man in the white suit. 
As you get closer, his features come into focus. Dark curls, a shadow of a beard and a thick line of hair over his lip. The cleft in his chin adds to the chisel of his jaw and he’s tall. Very tall and broad. His blue eyes meet yours. 
You trip as you try to step up beside him. He’s quick to catch you. His grip is iron on your arm. He helps you up and stands you across from his. Your eyes cling to him. You can’t look away. You’re terrified. He can’t look away from you either. 
You stand facing each other; you trapped him shock, him in triumph. This day is the first day of the rest of your life. The end of the empire and the birth of another. A vow to seal your fate and those of all watching. 
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bunny-lily · 8 months ago
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Satoru, who...
Did you ask for more fluff? I did, ehe~
Pairing: Gojo Satoru x fem!reader
CW: pure fluff, just fluff, no angst, only happiness | proposal, marriage, pregnancy, husband!Gojo, dad!Gojo, soft!Gojo, categorically fucking whipped Satoru, domesticity, kinda slice-of-life, mildly suggestive at the end
The starstruck boy, Gojo Satoru, who is utterly obsessed with you in every way possible.
AN: while I’m in the middle of writing an absurdly long fic, I wanted to post some shorter stuff to 1) keep my hands loose and brain active/busy, and 2) post something while I’m working on the fic to come. I won’t post much about it rn because I want to actually finish it first and not make any promises, so enjoy a lil fluff in the meantime <3 just something short and sweet
WC: 3k
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Satoru, who is smitten with you from the very moment he first lays eyes on you. Sure, he's had infatuations before, but they were short-lived and typically lasted no longer than a week. A quick fascination, then poof. You, on the other hand – you are different.
And it is plain to see for pretty much everyone. He is normally cocky and outgoing, even during the little fads he’s had, he never let down his façade of bravado. You, though? You melt all his walls until he’s a goopy puddle of a blushing, giggling school girl.
He is whipped, almost to an annoying point. He rambles off Suguru's and Shoko's ears enough times for them to know when he’s about to start singing your praises and avoid him, or distract him somehow (which is a monumental task when his ditzy head is full only of thoughts of you).
Even so, they are conflictingly bewildered and happy for their friend. For him to have found someone that he is interested in for longer than a week – let alone several months, now – is a riveting change of pace. He seems so genuinely delighted any time you two interact, bubbly, dreamy sighs leaving him as hearts dance in his eyes.
He has fallen for you bad.
Satoru, who’s a stuttering disaster when he tries to ask you out on a date, and damn near collapses in relief when you’re able to decipher what the hell he’s going on about and agree to go to the new café that opened up near campus with him.
One date turns into two, then three, then a dozen more that become routine for you. You meet up after classes let out, then head to the café side by side. Or, if one is running late, you have each other’s orders memorized. You even go the extra mile and order him a sweet he hasn’t tried yet to surprise him with when he bursts into the establishment, panting like he ran a marathon. He might as well have, he booked it for the café as soon as he was free, dying to see you.
Satoru, who is somehow in even more shambles when he gets the nerve to ask you to go steady with him, despite the two of you being borderline boyfriend and girlfriend by now. He’s jittery, sweaty, downright vibrating with tense energy when he brings you to the sakura tree near the back of school that you two had laid claim on. Oh, and when you say yes? He’s certain he’s died and gone to heaven. Nothing can explain how an angel like you decided to grace him with your existence as is, let alone love him – even while you called him an idiot and said you thought you two were already dating.
Satoru, who was already protective over you when you first met, dials it to eleven after you agree to being his girlfriend. Gojo Satoru, the strongest man alive, could inspire fear and respect simply by being in the room with his confident and brash nature, completely relaxed and faithful in his skill. But if, gods forbid, something happens to you? Gone is that cocksure attitude. Gone are the coy smirks and passive-aggressive taunting meant to rile others up. Gone is everything but his one track mind that focuses solely on two tasks: protecting you, and destroying whatever harmed you.
Satoru, who spoons you to his chest and watches ASMR, random videos, or movies on your phone with you 'til you both fall asleep. It became routine shortly after you began officially dating. You'll climb into bed first and decide what you want to watch while he finishes his nightly regimen, then he'll slip under the blankets and pull your back flush against his front, prop his chin atop your head, slide a thigh between your legs, and off to cozy dreamland you two go as whatever you choose acts as white noise. 
It brings him an immense amount of comfort, and though he doesn't need as much sleep as normal folks, he'll refuse to leave bed until you're awake (with the exception of any needs he might have to take care of that will only see him away for a couple minutes at most before he’s cradling you in his protective hold again).
Satoru, who salts and peppers your face with endless, ticklish kisses to wake you up, saving the best kiss for when your sleepy, pretty little eyes open: right on your lips. He always wakes up before you do, and spends hours watching your blissful, precious face as you snooze, content and relaxed like a cat with full trust in its human. The comparison always makes him smile, because he, truthfully, envisions you both as being cats all the time. Lazy ones that cuddle in the sun, your smaller form using his ridiculously fluffy and larger one as a pillow-slash-blanket. His tail twined with yours, your ears twitching as he grooms you with kitten licks, ah, the dream.
Satoru, who wants to slap a ring on your finger the very moment he can. You two spend so many days and weeks raving about your imaginary wedding that he so desperately wants to be real, setting up plans, picking out what you would want for decor, scrolling through forum boards for ideas on a wedding dress for you. He is practically more excited at the prospect of getting married than you are, eager to help in every step of the process and more. 'Let me handle all the hard stuff, baby,' he nearly begs. 
He won’t tell you the cost of anything, and insists you go all out. Get the dress you want, don't you dare look at the price tag. Choose the perfect venue, he doesn't care if it's in Japan or fucking Dubai, he'll handle paying for everyone's travel and hotel needs on top of the whole wedding. Only the absolute best for you, nothing less, everything more.
Satoru, who is a train wreck of nervous excitement, anxious anticipation, and giddy trepidation when the day comes for him to propose. He takes you to the perfect location – up a short and easy hiking trail that leads to a cliffside with the most magnificent view of the ocean and setting sun. You think it's just a sweet date trip, until you see the path of tea candles guiding you to a romantically set up picnic blanket, a basket resting atop it, waiting to be opened.
When you turn around to express your shock and confusion, you find Satoru on one knee, looking up at you as if you are the most gorgeous and divine creature to ever exist. He's confident and boisterous, as always, as he plays out his little speech about how much he adores you and wants to keep you by his side, forever and ever, but he's a shaking trash fire inside. A shivering little dog that's relieved he didn't stutter or screw up the speech he practiced a hundred times over and then some.
Satoru, who's thanking every god to ever possibly reside above (and even below) when you throw your arms around him, sobbing into his shoulder as a flood of yeses pours out of you, slurred as you ramble through your tears and tell him you love him, how happy you are, and a plethora of other things that make him genuinely the most elated person to ever live.
Satoru, who slides the brilliant engagement ring he had custom made for you onto your finger; smooth, with an inset blue diamond that shares the same shade as his eyes, nestled in with a dozen tinier crystals in vine-like spirals flowing outward from the center. Swarovski, of course. He made sure that it was all flush with the platinum to ensure it wouldn't snag on anything. 
He was practically breathing down the jeweler's neck during the entire process, needing to guarantee it’s positively perfect for you. And, when he sees the glimmering jewelry cozy on your finger, the evidence of your bond and the next step in your journey to unite as one, he knows he made all the right choices.
Satoru, who only uses the finest material for your matching wedding bands, and has the insides of both engraved with each other's names. Yours in his, his in yours. He has the same jeweler as before (poor guy) design them to have two stripes of platinum within the gold of your rings, delicate and stunning for himself and his wife.
Satoru, who's jubilant and so incredibly ecstatic that you're now his wife that he can't help but tell everyone he knows, everyday, multiple times a day, even those that were at the wedding. He just can't get over it. You're his wife, the girl he's been crushing on since highschool, the girl he swore to make his, and to devote himself to. It feels like an incredible dream, and he worriedly pinches himself from time to time to make sure it's real. 
He did it. He married you, and now you carry his name in yours, in your wedding band, everywhere he could put it to subtly (not really) show you off as the unquestionably precious treasure you are, his wife, and how overjoyed he is that he managed to catch you and keep you.
Satoru, who forgets how to function when you hold up a pair of white and pink sticks on his birthday, from different brands, both showing positive symbols. You. You're pregnant. With his baby. He swears his brain short-circuits because one minute, he's staring at you like you'd grown a second head, and the next, he has you wrapped up in his arms as he showers your forehead, cheeks, nose, jaw, lips, neck, ears, anywhere he can reach, with kisses.
He's a babbling, sniffly mess as he practically crushes you to his chest and coos and preens and weeps with elation. He reveres you like a deity and he’s your loyal and pathetic servant who was blessed beyond measure that you decided to give him the gift of life. He's going to be a father, and it's all because of you.
Satoru, who completely spoils the living hell out of you during your pregnancy (as if he hadn't already been), bending backwards for you for everything. Weird cravings? He's on it. Swollen ankles and nausea? He's rushing to the store for medicine, then rubbing your feet to ease the ache. Insatiable horniness? He's your slave for you to use for your pleasure. Hormones swinging wildly back and forth? He's there with a box of tissues and his firm chest for you to beat on when you feel like you're going crazy. It's his fault you're pregnant, after all. You're doing the hard work of not just carrying his child, but of nurturing it, growing it, letting it take from you to develop strong and healthy. Of course he's going to take care of you.
Satoru, who refuses to let you do any work. You're on indefinite parental leave. From the moment you show him those positive tests, he sits your pretty ass down on the couch and tells you firmly that your only job now is to help your baby develop. He'll take care of everything else, don't even think about lifting a finger.
Satoru, who's there at every appointment with you, clutching your hand tightly as you talk to your doctor about everything you need to know. And when you have your first ultrasound, and see your fetus together for the very first time, he's crying right alongside you.
Satoru, who spent meticulous hours packing a duffel bag with everything you'll both need for when it comes time for you to go into labor. Spare changes of clothes, plenty of water, blankets to keep you warm, a couple pillows, anything and everything. He refuses to go in unprepared. As soon as it's all packed and ready to go by the 8 month mark of your pregnancy, it's in the backseat of the car. The baby car seat is in the trunk of the sleek and top-of-the-line SUV he purchased specifically for your soon-to-be family. He doesn't care that it's taking up space, or that it’s too early, he refuses to go in unprepared.
Satoru, who immediately ditches work the very instant your water breaks. Who gives a fuck if he's in the middle of something important, nothing takes precedence over you and the incoming birth of your infant. He's breaking several driving laws to get you to the hospital, but neither of you care. Not when you're panting in the passenger seat, white-knuckling the grab handle with a palm pressed to your stomach, grunting and crying out in pain any time you have a contraction. It's a miracle he doesn't get pulled over, and he's incredibly thankful (and proud of himself) for thinking of calling the hospital ahead of time so that they're ready for you.
Satoru, whose entire world becomes a blur from the second you reach the hospital, to the second you're crushing his hand in your grip, screaming as you fight to bring his baby into the world. He's letting you yell at him and blame him for the pain you're in, easily accepting and agreeing because it is his fault. 
But while your shaking sobs and shrieks of agony wound his heart beyond any possible measure, he also can't help his elation at knowing it's time, all the waiting has been worth it, every minute spent catering to your every need, want, and desire. He'll do it indefinitely, wait on you hand and foot for the rest of his life, treat you like a queen, because you deserve it and so much more.
Satoru, who's shocked by how well he's holding up when the nurse puts the wrapped up, pudgy little newborn in his arms, gazing down at the tiny being. His tiny being, your tiny being, the fragile and priceless life you both created. Looking down at his kin, his reason for being, he knows he'd do anything and everything to protect you and your child.
Satoru, who sees you, a disheveled and tired disaster, with your hair all tangled, frizzy, and astray, strands stuck to your sweaty skin, your body slack in relief as the hardest part is finally over, watching your husband hold your baby, and he thinks you're more beautiful now than you've ever been. 
You look like you’ve been dragged through hell; your legs are sticky with residue blood, amniotic fluid, placenta, and whatever else that needs to be cleaned off (though your legs are covered with a few layers of blankets to keep you toasty warm while you recover from labor), your face is a little pale and sallow, you're barely clinging to consciousness, and he's marveling at how he's never seen anything or anyone as utterly blest and sacred as you. 
A goddess amongst men, the only one the strongest man in the world would ever willingly bow down to without you even needing to ask.
Satoru, who helps place your baby on your chest, the nurse having opened the blanket for skin-to-skin contact as you feed it, and finally lets himself release all his pent up emotions of raw, unfiltered joy. Every cell, every fiber, every atom in him is dancing in overwhelming happiness. He'd do it all over, again and again, as many times as you'd let him, if it means he gets to see you this blissful and tranquil. The glow of maternity suits you like no other, even in all your unkempt and chaotic glory. 
Satoru, who can't believe he's a dad. He goes above and beyond, insisting he takes care of the baby at night so you can sleep – he doesn't need as much rest as others do, after all. He murmurs to his newborn about how much he cherishes and adores you, how much you mean to him, how you're the best wife and mommy a man could ever ask for and more. He reads the kiddo bedtime stories to help it sleep, feeds it, changes it, whatever it is that is needed, he's there and doing it. 
On top of that, he continues to be your doting, devoted, caring husband. He makes sure you're taking your vitamins, takes you to all your postpartum appointments, aids you through your subsequent depression, all of it. He's sworn himself to you for life, not just in this timeline and universe, but in any and every single one of them.
He made and said his vows with purpose and conviction. He meant every word, and upholds them like his life depends on it. Because, in his mind, it does.
Satoru, who is patient with you, and firmly commands you to not push yourself to do things you can't do while you're still in recovery. He doesn't care if he has to wait months or even years for you to be ready to lay with him again, he'll wait it out. He might not be a patient man, but for you, he'd wait until all the stars die. 
Oh, but you, darling little minx that you are, do your best to take care of him, too. Even when he urges you to rest, or not worry about it, or anything other arguments he might have against it, you tend to him in whatever way you can. Touching, sucking, rough and heavy petting, whatever it takes. You refuse to leave him alone to suffer through months and months of dryness with no relief save for his hand and the toy you surprised him with to help take the edge off.
Satoru, who can't be more grateful to you. You're more than his wildest dreams, the perfect wife, the perfect mother, the perfect person as a whole in the entirety of the universe. He really can't help boasting about being the Chosen One, because he really is, if the cosmos decided to gift him with you.
Satoru, who swears to take care of you for the rest of your lives, and does well on his promise.
Satoru, who fights for the sake of you and your kin alone. He refuses to leave you in any way, shape, or form. He refuses to let the world be a danger to any of you. He refuses to have anything happen to his family. Nothing will tear you apart, not now, not ever.
Satoru, who loves you more than the sun, the moon, and all the stars combined.
—-—-•(-•ʚɞ•-)•—-—-
Banner by cafekitsune ♥ thank you for reading
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moonchild1 · 1 year ago
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min yoongi fic rec list (Ⅵ)
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she's back bet you didn't think i'd post another list this quick but since they've been building so much i figured why not soooo this week is yoongs and next week with be taehyung i've been reading alot lately so i wanted to share them asap so before my week gets hectic again i thought i'd post it, i honestly loved these ones i am exploring a little bit for with certain genres and i must say it like a whole new world i'm enjoying it and i hope you like them too. remember too always show lots of love and support to these amazing writers they dedicated so much time to writing these fics and they are absolute geniuses and deserve the world for sharing them with us so please follow them and take a look at their masterlists cause i will 100% guarantee that you will find your very own favourites there as well, leave the a little comment i know they will appreciate it so much and send them all the love in the world... i will reblog these through out the week and as usual minors do not interact i will block those who do.... happy reading everyone see you next week with taehyung's list and if you have anything you would like to share with me or you just wanna ramble about a fic you loved my asks are always open i love hearing from you🖤✨
a- angst s- smut f- fluff
series
stalemate by @shina913 f s a
↬"The truth is, I'm not afraid to take that gamble anymore...in the off-chance that I get lucky again and feel the way I felt when I was with you. I'd happily make that bet over and over."
oh, my darling by @yoongiofmine f s a
↬ starting your second semester at one of South Korea’s most prestigious universities should be stressful enough. Between juggling classes, good grades and a social life, your plate was full. Hoping to spice up your academic career, you thought it was a good idea to enroll as an assistant for your literature professor, whom you've held a very secret and very forbidden crush on for the past several months. What will happen now that you’re forced to work closely together? And what if your crush isn’t as one sided as you thought?
little bit of your heart by @/yoongiofmine f s a ft. jjk
↬You had everything you could ever dream of; the career of your dreams as a music producer, the best friends you could ever wish for, and a exes-turned-friends-turned-fuck-buddies relationship with Min Yoongi. You knew you and Yoongi would never move past that and you were okay with it. Until a friend from your past comes back into your life, offering to give you everything you deserve, everything Yoongi couldn’t. Will Jungkook show you what you’ve been missing? Or will the new guy threaten Yoongi enough to do something about it? 
sinful lust by @oddinary4bts s a ft. jjk
↬ in an attempt to spice up your bedroom life with your boyfriend Min Yoongi, you suggest bringing another man into the action. Yoongi seems reluctant at first, but when you mention his friend Jeon Jungkook, he can’t deny his attraction. All that’s left to do is to convince Jungkook into participating...
after hours by @archivedkookie f s a
↬ staying after hours with Yoongi for months proves to be a mistake when your heart falls for him.
Vows by @hamsterclaw f s a
↬ You're five years into your arranged marriage with Min Yoongi, and he's never once retaliated for anything you've done to him. One day you realise you've lost your appetite for provoking him, and you set about trying to win his heart instead.
sutures by @farfromsugafanfic f s a
↬ There was only one thing you and Min Yoongi had in common that night. You were both brokenhearted. You only intended to be together for one night, but when you both end up in the hospital the next day you discover that you are soulmates. It could kill you to be apart. As you and Yoongi attempt to sever the bond between you, will another be formed?
and so it goes by @prodagustd f s a
↬ You and Yoongi have been hooking up, having dates and spending most of the week together for almost seven months. He was comfortable without a title, until the last two weeks, when you couldn't see him because of your busy schedule, Yoongi can't understand why he misses you so bad if your relationship is just sex to him. Or maybe he does, but he's too much of a coward to admit it.
collateral by @theharrowing f s a ft. jjk & knj
↬ Your ex-boyfriend gets in over his head working for the local mafia, and Boss Min has come to collect his payment: You.
till death do us part by @colormepurplex2 s a
↬ Marital bliss isn't always a guarantee, especially when you find yourself marrying into the family responsible for your own family's demise. Sometimes, marriage is just a game of kill or be killed. Even when there is love involved, bullets still hurt.
grey area by @blushoseoks s a ft. jhs
↬ you spent the days staring at your wrist and tracing the skin where your soulmate’s name would one day appear. the nights were for telling your wrist about your day, as if the person whose name would one day stain itself there, like red wine to a dress, could possibly hear you. for years you thought up countless scenarios, imagined numerous possibilities, formulated conversations and rehearsed them over and over, until your mouth ran dry. outcomes and conclusions performed in your head on a repetitive loop. but out of everything you thought up, out of all of the time spent towards thinking about your soulmate, about what could possibly occur, none of it could ever prepare you for what would actually end up being. none of it ever came close to the way it happened when you finally met him. and now, after it’s all been said and done, you were left asking yourself one thing, and one thing only: “was it really worth all of this in the end?”
isn't it romantic by @jeonqkooks f s a
↬ Many things in life have a polar opposite: left and right, night and day, yin and yang, you and Min Yoongi... Hopeless romantic meets gloomy cynic. The only thing you seem to share is a magazine column but even then, you still can’t seem to understand how Yoongi can be called ‘The Love Doctor’ when he is the antithesis of everything love represents.
Flux by @yoonia f s a ft. jjk
↬ One of them is your longtime secret crush, while the other is the man with whom you had shared many heated nights filled with lust and forbidden desire, forever kept as your biggest secret of all time. You had sworn that those sinful nights would end, and that your secret crush would remain a secret. (poly au)
mean yoongi by @jjkpls f s
↬ Min Yoongi asks you to take care of his plants when he’s gone. It doesn’t go as planned and well, he has to deal with your misbehaving ass.
pretend by @gimmesumsuga s a
↬ “You know what they say: the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else, right?” idol au infidelity
naughty little kitten by @jungkooksxo s a ft ksj
↬ Jin figures out that you’re super into the idea of Yoongi listening in on you two having sex. Yoongi is super into listening to you and Jin having sex. Jin invites Yoongi to come play with his naughty little kitten.
babydoll by @jungcock s a
↬ Your childhood crush, now famous and successful, comes to visit you while you’re drunk and have a lot to prove.
eleven months by @bratkook f s a
↬ it’s been years of yoongi living his routine life, accustomed to his pace of living, going with the flow and simply existing. until you come along. yoongi absolutely can not see the logic in the way you live, but he weirdly craves it. craves the feeling of not being afraid of not knowing what's coming, being able to just let the cards fall wherever they land. and maybe you can help with that.
pause by @whatifyoulivelikethat s a
↬ Life is like a cassette tape. It seems like it’s constantly repeating, flipped from side A to side B, and the songs can’t be skipped. You can only pause, rewind, fast forward, play after you’ve already heard the song. After you’ve already lived it. All Min Yoongi knows is his own tape, until it smashes right at his feet, and then he has to learn to dance to a different beat.
darksided by @eoieopda f s a
↬ It all started with a bad joke and a bottle of Tanqueray.
three squeezes by @nomnomsik s a ft jhs
↬ Yoongi is notorious for his grumpy and emotionless behavior as director of an upcoming company. Yet, it’s a mystery to everyone how manager Hoseok always seems to soften him up. The truth is that the two are actually engaged. Unknown to this fact, you happen to take an interest in Hoseok… and he does too. 
one-shot
bad decisions by @jjungkookislife f s
↬ Jimin is desperate to get his apartment back to himself. He’ll move hell and earth, and even drop to his knees to beg you to take his brother, Yoongi, out of his hands. Who are you to say no to that pretty face and sinister grin?  
breakfast in bed by @joonbird f s
↬ “Min Yoongi, a grumpy Ikea employee, is wondering who you are and why exactly you’re sleeping in the display bed at his Ikea.”
Tricks of the Trade by @stutterfly f s a
↬ The convenience store across the street from your apartment carries your favorite energy drink. That's why you frequent it. It's definitely not because you have a big fat crush on the owner you've been flirting with for the better part of a year. Of course your brand of flirting can also be misconstrued as bickering. When a strange man wanders into the store, he thinks you need a little nudge to embrace the strings connecting you. Next thing you know you're waking up in a body that definitely doesn't belong to you. You can't decide if it's the best or worst thing that's ever happened to you.
threads by @yoonia s a ft. knj
 ↬ Life is full of surprises, just like how people are full of secrets. Just when you had thought you have been lucky enough to have your life figured out, life decides to throw you a curve ball when you least expect it. And there is nothing you could do to avoid it, except to hope that you could hold your secrets as tightly as you possibly could before everything blows up into smithereens.
under the willow tree by @orchidyoonkook f a
↬ The town outcast shows up in the one place you find solace from it’s residents. The people you force yourself to fit in with, even though you never want to be anything like them. Will he ruin your only place of salvation, or become the most unlikely friend?
mami by kithtaehyung s ft. knj
↬ you somehow have a conversation with yoongi, and you tell your roommate about a date date.
the devil wears valentino by @orchidyoonkook f s a
↬ Having known him for years—from a small mistake on your behalf, and a favour on his—you’re one of the only people he seems to be able to put up with for company. Certainly the only one he’s half-way decent with. But what’s more surprising to you is that despite his name, reputation, and the fact he’s always joked he’d have killed anyone else by this point, is that he’s never once tried to cause you harm. 
angel by @sailoryooons f s
↬ Yoongi never meant to keep coming back. You never meant to become Yoongi’s favorite. Being Min Yoongi’s favorite has dire consequences
a boy like you by @cinnaminsvga f
↬ for whenever you are feeling low, always remember that there is a boy you know who would lift the sky for you. {or alternatively: Min Yoongi loves you, though he never says it. He’s always been a firm believer in that actions speak louder than any words ever could.}
last nite by @tayegi s a
↬ This is a zombie apocalypse AU based on The Walking Dead, The Stand, World War Z, and elements of Attack of Titan
zombie bites by @luffles424 f s a
↬ Your friends have always been willing to assist you when you need a model to practice makeup on. And with the upcoming zombie film on campus is no difference. But something feels different this time, can a zombie movie be more than just a zombie movie? 
heaven's winter by @jksangelic f s a
↬ your duty as the village daughter places you in line for the season’s Offering; a tradition not to tread lightly upon. as the snow falls slow and heavy, and the seraph awaits in the shallows of the mountain, you fail to realize what the winter has in store for you.
heavy sugar by @kinktae s
↬ The Roaring Twenties were a time of great economic wealth and social change. But beneath the jazz music and colorful speakeasies were mafia led organized crimes and bloodstained cash. You knew this well, but try as you might, you just couldn’t ignore the dark and enigmatic gangster whose eyes lingered on you from across the room.
all that holly, jolly shit by @daechwitatamic f s
↬You haven’t seen or heard from Yoongi since he broke your heart five years ago, laying out a logical list of reasons why you were better off breaking up. When a Christmas Eve blizzard traps you together for the night, you have no choice but to examine how few of those reasons are still true. And if they’re not… where does that leave you?
calling the shots by @chans-room f
↬ College basketball captain Yoongi
until death by @kpopfanfictrash s a
↬ Jade has always shaped the island of Kekon. Mined from the mountains, it enhances the abilities of Green Bone warriors who wear it and allows them protection from outside harm. No one understands these threats better than you do, second-in-command of the mighty No Peak clan.  When a new danger appears, seeming to come from within, everything you once took for granted is called into question. Including the bonds you’ve made, some more dangerous than the others. None more so than Min Yoongi, head of No Peak and the only one capable of destroying your heart.
whatta catch by @aredheadedmess f a
↬ One, two, three strikes you’re out. When opposing opinions find you roughing it up with the university’s star pitcher, he makes it his mission to show that you’re wrong about college sports—and maybe your feelings about the player himself.
shatter me, embrace me by @95rkives s
↬you longed for him, yearning for love, yet all that awaited you was heartbreak.
you're losing me by @/archivedkookie a
↬ ❝ He’s losing you, and yet, he lets the flower die in front of his eyes instead of doing everything to save it. Alternatively, Yoongi and you are losing your love toward each other. ❞
spotlight by @back2bluesidex f a
↬ No matter how much you run away from Yoongi, Yoongi always comes right back to you.
all the wrong places by @mrworldwideshoulders f a
↬ After getting separated from your friends during a night out, you get stuck with a hefty bill – one that you can’t pay. So when a handsome, emotionless stranger covers your tab in a random act of kindness, you’re determined to track him down and pay him back. inspired by 24K Magic by Bruno Mars.
now we reign by @/oddinary4bts f s a
↬ when working on a collab together makes you and Min Yoongi seek comfort with the other, you discover there’s more to life than loneliness. Only, hurdles mark your path in Min Yoongi’s life, and it’s unclear what the outcome will be. Will you be destroyed by him and his world, or will you learn to reign over it, together with him?
stay by sugarwithtea f s a
↬ what happens when you get stranded in a remote town with no place to live except for a lodge owned by a dangerously handsome but annoying man? yeah, a lot.
when the stars align by @itskimtaehyung f
↬ With cuffing season approaching its end, you thought you had escaped the pressures of finding a boyfriend for the holidays. That is, until your friends set you up on a blind date that goes horribly wrong. This prompts you to enlist the help of your roommate, Yoongi, to fake a relationship so your friends will stop meddling in your love life. And it turns out Yoongi is a lot better at this romance thing than you originally thought...
egotstic by @pasteljeon s a ft. knj
↬ The timing was never right. He loved you when you were kids, knees scraped and cheeks red. You loved him when pimples bloomed across his skin, voice cracking and he found solace in the scribbled lines in his notebook. The stars never seemed to align for the two of you, but perhaps it was because you were meant for someone else.
on the court by @centerhaechan f
↬ As captain of your school's winning women's basketball team, it is only understood that you despise the men's basketball team and their captain. Your main rival, Min Yoongi, enjoys testing your patience while he attempts to lead his own team to a championship victory. Your coaches believe you both have problems with teamwork, and insist that working together will produce a promising solution.
sugar by @zehakoo f s
↬ desperately in need of sugar to make coffee in order to ease down your headache, you find yourself knocking on a strangers door who happens to be your best friend’s friend and the finest man you’ve ever encountered.
from the ashes by @fortunexkookie s a
↬ Someone is sobbing ugly, wrecked sounds that shatter the silence in the room. You need them to stop; it’s distracting and you need to focus. You need to clean the ash from his skin. You need to comb the knots from his hair. You need to dress his beautiful body in something befitting the king you know he is… but the sobbing is too loud, and your vision is blurry. It takes Yoongi wiping your tears away for you to realize that the gasping cries echoing off the stone are coming from you.
the dark by @/bratkook s
↬ your small town thrives on the occult, luring tourists in with endless themed festivities, but the only place you’re determined to see is the mysterious club that comes to life the week before Halloween. what makes The Dark so exclusive, and what secrets are they hiding behind closed doors?
Triplicity by @kainks ft. jhs
↬ Distance is a cruel thing, and when you find yourself going astray, they are there to help remind you of just where exactly you belong.
fermata by @jeongi f s
↬ fer·ma·ta: from fermare, it means to stay or to stop. min yoongi teaches you exactly how to let go.
private lessons by @dntaewithluv f s
↬ Your little sister finds it odd how you’ve been taking private lessons from her piano teacher for over a month now, but she hasn’t heard you actually play even once…
first love by @geniuslab f s a
↬You learn a lot of new things in your first year of university, including what it feels like to fall in love.
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↬looking for other myg fics or the other bts members check out my library
3K notes · View notes
bluesidez · 8 months ago
Text
The Love Lab presents:
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Wash Day 🫧🚿
pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Fem!Reader
summary: Miguel offers to wash your hair because wash days can be a lot, mischief ensues.
content warning: 18+ MDNI, lots of fluff and banter, talks of marriage/proposal, lovey dovey!miguel, head scratching + massaging, p in v sex (wrap it up 🫵🏾, healthcare is expensive and so are babies), just the tip at one point, cussing, subby + service-like miguel (he does start to enter a daze that is similar to a sub drop, but it's not really that and the reader checks up on him immediately), needy!miguel, creative use of miguel's talons, kissing, hickys, a little hair pulling, manhandling, cunnilingus, fellatio, squirting, slight edging, praise kink, breeding kink towards the end, mentions of cum, overstimulation, a little aftercare, reader is a bit of a tease, miguel is a bit of a brat, more references to cats than I thought, no use of y/n
credit for the art/dividers: Me! (+ illustrator and canva)
a/n: This is my first fic that I am posting on here! 🤠 This one has been in the works for a while, but I am happy with the result. This story is written with a black reader in mind, but it's very inclusive minus the hair situation, so anyone can enjoy the story. There is one unrealistic part that NONE of my natural brethren would ever allow, I beg you to just go with it. 😭 I also used a little Spanish in here, to my Spanish-speakers, if anything is wrong, just let me know and I 'll change it right away!
I also imagined the shower to be one of those fancy walk-ins like this or this but big enough for two, because in my mind, Miguel is stacked in the money department as well.
word count: 6.9k (I got carried away)
To all my sub Mig lovers and fiends! Love ya! 🩵🪮
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It was finally time for the day you’ve been putting off for about a week now, the taxing Wash Day.
Normally, you would drag this day out because you knew that once you started, you had to keep going until your hair was done and either ready for the bonnet or the hood dryer. Although today, you were lucky because you had a braid appointment the following morning, so that meant just a simple wash and a blow-dry. You were even luckier because your boyfriend, Miguel, was more than happy to wash your hair for you.
“I know how tired you get afterwards and I just want to help make the process easier,” is what you remember him telling you last night in your sleepy, whiny state.
Now, here you are the next day watching his eyebrows furrow in confusion, lips pouted in a crooked M as you guide him to the old faithful: the kitchen sink.
“Why are you giving me that face? You said you were gonna help,” you chuckle at his expression, watching as his eyes turn to your hair supplies littered across the counter.
“No, no! I still want to help. It’s just that,” he picks up your wide-tooth comb, running his fingers over the teeth, “I thought we were going to be in the shower.”
You look at him, a little dumbfounded at the statement. You didn’t mind washing your hair in the shower, you did it all the time, but what was the point of getting you both wet?
“I just thought it would be easier for you this way,” you reply, pulling the faucet from the sink and waving it around in an attempt to hype up the situation. “I’ll bend my head in the sink, and you’ll wash it that way. Or! You can hike me up on the counter and I can lay down with my head over the sink. That one’s a little less comfortable for me, but it gives you more than enough room to maneuver.”
“Hm,” he grunts, eyes going from you to the counter, then right back to you. “That’s fine and all, but what if my back starts to hurt from bending for too long.”
You just stare at him, unamused. If anyone would be in pain, it would be you.
“In the shower, we can stand together and I can see exactly what’s going on. Plus, you can wash my hair too,” he continues, pulling you flush against his chest, comb forgotten. He starts to rub your hips in a slow motion. “Let’s make it a date.”
“Ok, first of all, you’re not that old to where your back can just give out like that,” you quip, leaning back from his embrace to look him in the eyes. “Secondly, you expect me to believe that the Spiderman is unable to wash someone’s hair in this sink.”
“At 6’9? Absolutely.”
“Touché.”
Truthfully, Miguel was a bit turned on after spending the last 20 minutes watching you completely melt under his hands from scratching your scalp.
It was such a simple task but all of your sighs and whispers of “right there” and “harder” had him internally groaning.
When it was finished, you were up off the floor easily and blissfully unaware, while he was left with a few of your shedded curls covering his clothes and pre-cum threatening to seep into his underwear.
So yes, while technically the shower was the best option for him, he really wanted to ignite that same reaction from you again. It was addicting.
You reach up on your tippy toes and squish his face to give a quick peck to his lips. “Fine, fine! Quit your puppy dog eyes, we can go to the shower. Just let me pee first.”
Step 1 of Miguel’s master plan was already successfully underway.
He started to pick up your supplies, reading the ingredients out of curiosity. Today you were trying a new line of products that was making huge waves online. He remembers seeing how excited you were when the package came in. You had barrelled into the bedroom in a squealing frenzy, and had it not been for his spider senses listening out for you, he would have jumped from the way you threw the door open.
Even though it was another line of products that would fill up the bathroom cabinets, your giddiness rubbed off on him, so he was ready to see results.
“Baby, come on! I’m ready!”
Miguel quickly huddled up everything from the counter and made his way to the bathroom.
He walked in to see you standing next to the sink, birthday suit on and your hands reaching up to push your hair from your forehead.
Heaven-sent were the first words that came to mind. Here you were, standing in the steam of the bathroom just for his eyes. He couldn’t help but linger in the doorway, heart skipping a beat at the sight of you.
You turned to look back at him, mirth in your eyes, “Mig, come on, the water’s running.”
He didn’t even comprehend the sound of the water hitting the tiles, he was so zoned in on you.
“I’m coming, I was just…admiring you,” he replies, moving to prepare for the shower.
“There’s no way you’re eyeing me up right now. I look a little crazy,” you say, turning back towards the mirror.
“Querida, you could be rocking a spiked mohawk right now, and I would still have the same reaction. You’re beautiful no matter how your hair looks.”
You bit your lip, heart fluttering at his words. If you didn’t have to get ready for your hair appointment tomorrow, you’d stop everything then and there to love on your boyfriend.
For now, you settled on helping him out of his clothes, a smile growing on your face. You pulled his shirt up as far as you could reach, then let your hands roam over his chest, watching the goosebumps that followed behind. You kept your fingers walking down to the waistband of his pants, lightly scratching at his happy trail.
His stomach twitched in response to your touch, hands itching to pull you closer.
You placed your hands at his sides, gripping the waistband of his sweatpants and underwear, slowly tugging at the bands. You stepped forward to get a better leverage, breasts pressing against his torso.
His breaths were coming out in short beats, not wanting to disrupt the spell that you put him under. He looked down at the closing space between you all’s bodies because if he looked up at your eyes, he’d stop everything and take you right there against the counter.
But the shower. He was supposed to make it to the shower. Which was in an area by itself. In the next room. With your hands roaming everywhere, he wasn’t even sure if he could even make it past the toilet.
His eyes fluttered closed as you slid your hands back up his thighs, a deep breath building in his lungs. Like this, he was really able to tune in on both the heat of your body against his and the lingering touch of your hands. Hyper-focused on you and you alone.
Then he heard a loud slap.
His eyes bucked back open, body rigid as the sting came back in waves on the side of his ass.
“Come on, we’ve got heads to scrub!” you said, voice as clear as ever.
He watched you twirl towards the shower, his mind muddled from your switch to playfulness. Had he read that all wrong?
He looked down and sighed at the sight of his dick, half-hard at what could have been.
All he could do was stagger out of the clothes that pooled at his ankles, grab the hair products, and waddle to the shower.
You were already halfway under the spray of the shower head, head leaning back, waiting for the water to completely soak through the layers of your hair.
Miguel came up next to you and detached the shower head, bringing it closer to your scalp, careful not to get water in your ears.
“So first, we have to use the scalp scrub shampoo,” you say, grabbing one of the taller bottles and unscrewing it. “Just take this in your hands first, lather it, and work it into my scalp.”
You pull his left hand forward and squeeze some of the liquid in his palm.
“Is this enough?” he asked, noticing the little amount you put in his hand.
“Yep! A little can go a long way, baby,” you say, turning around to him, trying to determine how you would reach the top of his head.
Oh, how Miguel was so well acquainted with that phrase. Especially after this cat-and-mouse game you’ve been playing with him all day.
You faced him as he placed his fingers on your scalp, beginning to move in circles, spreading the shampoo in several sections.
“You can add a little pressure. I can take it,” you mumble out, almost low enough for Miguel to miss it.
So he does. He starts to scratch at your scalp, remembering that this is an important step. For your hair of course, not his plan.
“Ugh, that feels so nice,” you sigh, trying not to sway under him. “I should have had you do this sooner.”
Miguel thought so too. Here you are, head leaned back, eyes closed, and completely oblivious to his inner turmoil. He kept scratching at your scalp, your head nodding along with the motions.
“Can you scratch over here, please?” you ask, pointing at the right side of your head, eyes squeezed tight to not let any soap fall in them. Even after all of your teasing, you were still so cute in this moment. When Miguel complied, you showed your gratitude by groaning out a quick thank you. With a long sigh, you placed your hands in front of his chest, fingers balled up in loose fists.
“Does it feel good?” Miguel knew the answer, but he had to play along. “You want me to move anywhere else?”
“Yeah, could you just-” you leaned your head over, mindlessly guiding Miguel’s hands. “Right there, baby.”
You brought your hands up to grip at his wrists, needing something to hold onto. Miguel felt insane.
To curb the feeling, he quickly leaned down and kissed your forehead. His head was overloaded with the sound of your voice and he had to keep himself composed.
You looked up at him, eyes big and wide at his affection. He kept making you feel warm doing such mundane things. You purse your lips, silently begging for more.
Miguel brought his soapy hands to the water to quickly rinse them off, then placed them on your cheeks and leaned down again to kiss your lips.
One. Two. Three pecks and you were giggling.
Four. Five. Six pecks and you were on your tiptoes, arms crossed behind his neck.
Seven. Eight. Nine pecks and you were turning your head, opening your mouth for more.
Ten. Eleven. Twelve kisses and you were in his arms, feet off the ground, biting at his bottom lip.
By the thirteenth kiss, you were pulling your head back, staring into his eyes, grabbing at his nape.
“We still have to wash the shampoo out,” you say, watching as his eyes linger on your lips.
“We can do that,” he mumbles, still holding you close.
“Are you gonna put me down?” you ask, tone a little cheeky.
He snaps his eyes up at yours, eyebrow raised. “Are you gonna finish what you started?” He started to move one of his palms down your back, taking a thigh to pull around his waist, and placing his mouth on your jaw.
“Nuh uh, O’Hara,” you chide, pushing against his chest and wiggling to get him to remove his embrace. The water smacks against the tiles as you jump down, one calf still in Miguel’s hand.
“O’Hara?” Miguel scoffed, playfully pulling at you again and tickling your side. “I’m not sure who that is, but maybe you forgot how to say baby, mi vida.”
You laughed at him, finally calling out his bluff, “No, because my baby said he would help me wash my hair, and right now he’s being bad and trying to distract me. So, until you finish, it’s O’Hara.” You folded your arms and tilted your head to the side, daring Miguel to counter your words.
He dropped your leg and muttered out a gruff “fine” with his lips downturned. Two could play at this game and if he wanted to distract you, he just had to turn up the heat.
He grabbed for the shower head and started to rinse the thick shampoo from your hair, carefully weaving through the locks.
“When do we detangle it?”
You started to smile again, happy at his verb usage. He really does listen to you when you talk about your hair.
“When we put on the conditioner, but you can start a little now while the water’s running on it. Need the brush?”
“No, I’ll just use my fingers for a little bit.”
You turned your face back to him, shocked that he remembered another technique.
“You’re gonna finger detangle, ba- I mean, O’Hara?”
“Yes I am, corazón. Why are you looking at me like that? I’m a great boyfriend that knows what his girl needs.”
You squint your eyes, wary at his words. “Uh huh, I bet you do. If you know so much, what’s next?”
“We shampoo again. Rinse. Then it’s conditioner and detangling, just like you said.”
You hummed, internally ecstatic that he actually did know the answer. “Another point for you,” you say, turning back around as Miguel places the shower head back on the hook.
Miguel smirked. He listened to you, he really did, but he also made sure to watch over 20 videos about washing coily hair while you were sleeping. You didn’t have to know that though.
His high was short-lived when you bent over to grab the next shampoo. He grabbed at your hips, watching as the swell of your ass aligned against his front. He pushed his head back and breathed in deep. How unfair.
You leaned back up slowly, turning the bottle around trying to fish for any specific directions.
“This one is a hydrating shampoo. It says you can just put it on my hair and just work it through.”
Miguel repeated the same shampooing process, although this time with less scalp scratching and more scalp massaging. You were once again in bliss at his ministrations, like a cat who couldn’t stop purring.
“O’Hara, you really have a way with your hands. Super relaxing,” you say with snickers underlining your voice.
Miguel just reached for the shower head, ready to rinse for the second time. “This guy sounds like a real catch. Too bad he isn’t here.”
You just laugh at how sulky he sounded, ready to grab the conditioner.
“Well, is there a Mr. O’Hara here? I kind of need him for this last step.”
Miguel stopped in his tracks.
You really didn’t understand how much he wanted to make you his wife. In fact, he started planning the proposal to a T after a year of you all being together. He started to dream about a future with you after the first couple of dates, despite how often he had to tell himself to slow down. It was terrifying yet thrilling how much you left an impression on his life.
Mr. and Mrs. O’Hara.
Mr. O’Hara.
Mrs. O’Hara.
Miguel bent his head in your neck and wrapped his arms around your waist, face burning from his running thoughts.
“Y-you can’t use that against me. You know how I get,” he said petulantly, voice softened in the juncture of your neck, drowned out by the pouring water.
“And how do you get, baby?” you ask, reaching over to run your fingers through his damp hair. You tugged lightly at the root causing Miguel to hug you tighter and groan against your neck.
As hot as the water was, the heat of your body against his left him burning. The angle was weird so he couldn’t exactly rub up against you, but he could kiss along the surface of your shoulders.
He started to slowly press kisses down your neck, moaning as you tilted your head to give him more space. He stopped to linger at the top of your shoulder, taking in a small amount of skin. After he was happy at the mark he left, he opened his mouth a little wider, canines grazing against your skin.
You reach to pull his head back up, resting his jaw on your shoulder.
“Focus, Mr. O’Hara, it’s only one more step.” You say these words lowly right next to his ear, pressing your lips on his tragus then pushing his head up to kiss against his jaw.
When Miguel stood up fully, you could see the dazed look in his eyes. Staring closer, you noticed they were a little dewey.
You had to bring him back down to Earth. You couldn’t have him lost in this steam.
“Hey, baby look at me,” you even your tone and angle his face towards yours. “Are you alright? Do we need to sit down?”
You wait for his eyes to find yours, searching for discomfort.
“No, I'm fine. I’m ok, sorry,” he says, leaning into one of your hands, wrapping his hand around it for extra support.
“Positive? I know the water is really hot so if you need to step out and cool down, then that’s fine. I’ll help you settle down then come back and finish up by myself,” you say, adamant in your words.
“No! No, no. I’m really ok. I’m so cool and calm right now that it’s crazy,” he replies, frantic at the thought of leaving you in the shower. “Hand me the conditioner.”
You look at him again, tickled at the change in condition. All you could do was sigh, twist the cap off of the conditioner, and pull the inner lid off.
He dabbed two fingers on top of the cream, scooping a small amount off of the top. “A little goes a long way, right?”
“A little does go a long way.”
“Can you turn around, please?”
You comply, placing the conditioner in a corner.
“If you need it to lather a bit more, just add a little water,” you remind him.
He began to work the conditioner through, going from the root to the ends. The results were quick and he could see your curls begin to sprout. He started to thoroughly pull his fingers through, working out any leftover tangles. He got to a bigger knot and held the section of hair in one hand, and carefully combed through the knot with the other.
You were feeling peaceful until it dawned on you: you never gave him a comb or a brush to work with.
“Hold on, baby what are you using to take the knots out with? Do you have a comb?”
Miguel placed one of his hands in your face and pushed his talons out, like a cat showing its claws off when you press the center of its paw.
You panic, remembering that they can tear through people and metal, “Um. I don’t think using these bad boys on my hair is the right way to go.”
“Tranquila, mi amor, I got it. I’m using the dull side, see?”
He put a tuft of hair in front of your eyes and showed the process of him detangling while talon-less, then working out the final tough knot with the side of the talon, turning his hand sideways to avoid cutting your curls.
As a result, the section was completely detangled, allowing him to run his fingers straight through the thick strands, and the curls springing back up once he was finished. Plus, from what you could tell, there was no breakage.
Color you impressed because Miguel was pulling out all of the stops today.
“Alright, just. Be careful.”
“Always.”
“If you jack up my hair, Lyla will have to place Jess in charge permanently.”
“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”
You stand, arms placed under your chest, waiting for Miguel to finish. Subconsciously listening to the pattern of his breaths and the sound of his talon going through your hair.
“Ok, that’s it. Do you want to wash my hair while this sits?”
Such a smart boyfriend.
“Yeah just let me go ahead and finish this shower while you get your hair wet.”
Miguel stepped back to get under the overhead shower head, letting the water fall on him like rain, watching you as you began to lather body wash on your net sponge.
You were scrubbing away at your skin getting into every crevice, peach fragrance filling the air.
He wanted to reach out and touch you, but look where that’s gotten him so far. Almost kicked out of the bathroom.
You were just as stubborn as he was, no, resolute.
He admired it, especially when you gracefully brought him down from clouds that were his own fantasies.
Focusing back on you, he stared openly as you folded your body in half to reach your ankles causing everything to be on display.
A normal person would put their foot on the ledge to reach below. You were definitely fucking with him.
He watched as you pulled the net sponge across your body, leaning up as the languid movements of your hands pulled the net side to side.
He was glad that the water drowned out his harsh breathing.
You finished off your shower, working the detached shower head over the soap, clearing up your skin.
You brought the shower head lower, making sure that there was no bubble left behind.
When you held your ass to help the water pass all the way down the back of your body, Miguel jumped to hold the base of his cock, softly groaning at the picture you were painting.
He lifted his face up and pushed his hair back, in hopes that the stream could help him clear his mind. But, the water was hot, all it did was make him lightheaded at the thought of you.
“Miguel? Come over here so I can wash you too.”
Miguel tottered over, looking down at your body, shining after all your thorough work. You were placing soap on a pair of exfoliating gloves you had bought for him, lathering them together once you were satisfied with the amount of soap.
You got to work on his body, starting at the shoulders and moving in circular motions.
Miguel stared in silence, hoping you would put an end to this charade. But you continue to be meticulous, covering every inch of his upper body. Lifting his arms when you wanted to. Moving him around when you wanted to.
In this moment, he felt like a ragdoll, letting you do whatever you pleased.
You squatted down to do his lower body, eyes laser focused, not missing a spot.
All Miguel could focus on was your face so close to his dick that was twitching in anticipation. You just ignored it and continued to rub the rest of him down. Miguel wanted to cry.
You were touching everywhere, slowing down on his inner thighs and ass causing his knees to shake.
You held him steady by gripping the back of his thighs and finally looked up at him, acknowledging his presence.
Your eyes traced him all the way down to the gift that was in front of you. You parted your lips and let your tongue brush against the tip, watching as spurts of pre-cum escaped. You couldn’t have that. You leaned forward a little more, taking the head in completely, and allowed yourself a few more licks and a suck before you let go with a pop, watching the thin trail of spit grow as you leaned back.
Miguel whined in frustration, a cloud of desire fading so quickly.
“Amor, why did you-”
You quickly jumped up and rested against him, arms wrapped around his waist and hands lightly groping his butt.
“I didn’t even wash your hair yet, silly,” you quip, chin nuzzling against his sternum. “Now, go rinse off and sit on the bench so I can reach your hair.”
Forget wanting to cry, Miguel might actually do it.
He was so, so hard.
After the soap was gone he trudged to the bench, glancing over at you washing the conditioner out of your hair.
“I could have washed it out for you,” he protests, half bothered by his situation and half annoyed that he let it blindside him from the main point of this shower.
“It’s ok, baby. You really helped me out a lot today and I’m thankful. I’m also making sure you don’t drop to the floor right now, so hold on for me,” you reply earnestly, chuckling at the look of frustration slapped across Miguel’s face.
You bring over the hydrating scrub, some conditioner, and the shower head, and stand in between his legs, ready to start.
Miguel looked up at you like you hung the stars in the sky, undeniably in love and unbelievably aroused.
You started to unscrew the scrub, making sure to part his hair down the middle.
“You’re using your products on me?” he asked, confused at your actions.
“Just the shampoo. I don’t think this conditioner will do you any good, but for the most part, the line is pretty inclusive. Ain’t that neat?”
“Mm-hm,” he responded, cheeks squished against your chest, arms wrapped around your thighs.
“Look forward, for me, baby,” you say, starting to spread the shampoo on his scalp.
He just hummed and groaned in the safety of your torso, while you scratched at his scalp and pulled the shampoo to his ends. He started to kiss and nibble at any skin he could get his mouth on. His grip was getting tighter and he felt a stutter in your breaths.
“Lean back so I can rinse this out.”
He placed his chin on your stomach again, eyes full of hearts.
“I’m almost finished, I just need to put your conditioner on.”
Miguel hummed once more as you placed the conditioner at his ends first, then scrunched his hair up, careful not to mess with his scalp. Mindful of his wavy, curly hair texture like he was for yours.
His wine eyes kept staring at you, as if you were the 8th wonder of the world. You felt heat in your face, an accumulation of the almost boiling water and Miguel’s full attention.
He was simply grinning, face wet and tinted from the water.
“You’re so cute,” you say, rinsing out the last of the product.
“Only with you,” he replies, still trying to make you look into his eyes. “Can you come closer?”
You set the shower head down and run your hands through his strands, “I feel like I’m already as close as it gets.”
“Not really,” he said, swiftly sitting you on his lap like you weighed nothing. “You could always be closer to me, cariño. I can think of many ways to make that happen.”
You finally allow yourself to indulge in his shenanigans. Leaning your forehead on his, you open your mouth to say, “Is that why you were so adamant about getting in the shower? To get as close to me as possible?”
He looked from your eyes to your mouth, “No?”
You bring your hands from his hair to his neck, “You know you can’t lie. In fact, you’re like, really bad at it.”
“Fine. It was partially because of that. How did you know?”
“Like I said, you can’t lie and neither can your face. You’ve been pouting ever since I let you scratch my head and especially when I wanted to wash my hair in the sink.”
“Am I that easy to read?”
“Kind of,” you say, a laugh twinkling off your lips. “I can always tell when you want me.”
“Yeah? And what am I telling you right now?” He starts to move your hips, placing his erection right under you, grinding your lips against him.
You close your eyes, a flame beginning to blossom within you, “I guess that you need, fuck, you need me.” Your clit was throbbing against his length as he dragged your body back and forth.
“I do, bebé, I do,” Miguel was moaning loudly, melting at the feeling of your pussy finally warming him up. He moved his lips to yours, desperately trying to have more of you, gripping your hips even harder.
“Baby, s-slow down,” you say in the midst of his kisses, trying to put your feet on the bench next to him to gain some sort of stability. You knew he was pent up, but he was moving so frantically, you were scared he might slip off.
“Te necesito. Please, just-” Miguel cut himself off with a groan in your neck, grinding your slit along himself faster. He started to kiss down your chest, finally getting to your breasts, and gliding his tongue along the wet skin. He took a nipple into his mouth, allowing himself to suck.
The flame from before was starting to grow, “Miggy if you keep going, I’m gonna cum.” He was just starting and you already felt everything coming to an end.
How were you so close, yet he was the one who was riled up?
“Miguel, I’m-” you hold on harder to his neck, eyebrows furrowed.
“Uh huh. C’mon, give it to me,” he encouraged, staring at you, eyes cloudy.
You break above him, a scream crawling from your throat, hips stuttering in his hold, and liquid leaking onto the floor.
“Oh my god,” your mind was hazy, reveling from how quick you came, but mostly at how needy Miguel looked.
“Was it good?” he asked, hugging your body as he switched angles, dragging his body closer to the edge of the bench, letting your feet fall to the floor. His voice was whiny, desperate, wanton. “Was I good for you? Did you feel good?”
You brought your mouth to his temple, movements shaky and heart still thumping, “You were so good for me, baby. So good.”
He sighed, breath leaving his lungs as if what you told him was a matter of life and death.
“Then use me,” he leaned back, hands pressed against the seat. “Use me, however you please.”
You stared at him, a little stunned but fully immersed. When you brought your hand to his chest, you could feel how fast his heart was moving. You brought your mouth to his once more, a thumb on his chin pushing so that lips could part. You kissed him deep, making sure to direct his focus there while you placed your knees on the bench.
Sitting just above him, you guided your sex to his, allowing his tip to barely kiss you. You wanted him, yearned for him inside of you, but not yet.
You slid his tip past your slit, only edging it in partially, then rubbed your pussy up and down the head, allowing yourself to open up.
Miguel moaned into your mouth, hands curling into fists as he felt your walls close around the top of him. He started to move in tiny thrusts matching your rhythm.
“Nuh uh, baby, it’s just me right now, remember?” You break your kiss to reprimand him, bringing your hand from his chin to his stomach, and stopping all movement.
Miguel could only cry out and nod, upset at the loss of your body devouring his own, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, keep going. I’ll be still, cariño, please.”
“Good. There he is, my sweet baby,” you say, voice a prime example at how much Miguel begging for you was affecting you.
You start back, ass moving with a bit more force. You lean to press a long kiss against his neck, losing yourself in the sound of him barely inside of you, his groans a lovely melody filling up the room.
“You feel amazing, Miguel. So big, and you’re only giving me so little,” you pant in his ear, knees starting to hurt from how hard the tiles were.
“It’s all for you. Just for you,” he gasped, twitching when the sounds of your juices got even louder at your constant movement. “Mi amor, please, can I hold you?”
“Always, baby.”
Internally you chuckled, you never told him he couldn’t touch you, you just followed his plea to use him like a toy. He was so pussy drunk, he forgot the parameters he set for himself.
He wrapped his biceps around you, your arms folding behind your back in the process, but that didn’t stop you from riding out the high that was another orgasm.
“That’s right, keep going. Úsame, take what you need,” he requested. He was itching to dive deeper into you, not wanting your pleasure to end.
You threw your head back and whined high with Miguel’s name on your tongue, gushing out your release for a second time.
“Fuck.” Miguel was still holding onto you, legs taut in their position. He swerved your pussy across his length, listening at how wet you were.
You laid your head on the tile above Miguel, relieved with its slight coolness and trying to slow down your rapid heartbeat. Your hips kept bucking as an aftereffect.
You didn’t get that much of a cool down before Miguel was at it again, finally sliding his dick in until he bottomed out.
The two of you let out long moans in unison, a harmony that wasn’t unfamiliar to your apartment.
In this position, your face was back in front if Miguel’s, eyes watery from the sensation of him filling you up.
“You’re perfect, you feel perfect,” Miguel cradled you, trying to get as comfortable as he could, despite the impossible position he put himself in.
Lifting his hips off of the bench, he held himself up by his back pressed against the tiles.
Before you could even ask him if you all should move to the floor, he knocked the wind out of you, holding you up as he slammed into you.
“Miguel!” you shout, clamoring for anything to grab onto after the impact had you knocking forward.
“I got you, I promise. Won’t let you fall,” he heaved out, words spilling out as fast as his hips were snapping.
All you could do was mutter out words incoherently, the sound of his hips slapping against your ass reverberating off of the walls. Your eyes finally let go of the tears they were holding, overwhelmed by your state of being.
“What’s that, mi amor?” Miguel cooed at you, licking off one of your tears and kissing your cheek. “Can you feel me? Is it too much?”
“I, ngh, I,” you could barely get your words out, your brain turning into mush after each thrust. Miguel kept going, humming as he spread kisses around your face.
“You gotta answer me, baby. I need to know,” he whispered.
“I’m trying,” you respond, voice cracking from overuse. You were still peeved at his composure. “I thought you said, oh my god, you said you didn’t want to hurt your back.”
Miguel just pursed his lips, eyes clearing up for just a second, “I didn’t. And I’m not going to, super-healing, remember?”
“That’s-” your sentence was cut off by Miguel hiking you up and smacking you back down in time with one of his thrusts.
“Shit! Do that again,” you sob, thoughts coming to a stop.
“Yeah?” Miguel tried his best to keep his eyes on you, but you were squeezing so tight around him that his eyes kept rolling.
“Yes, Miggy. Right there, that spot. It’s so,” you were drooling at this point. “It’s so much.”
Miguel kept it up, glad to be hearing those words, proud of himself for igniting you.
You held your head down, body wound tight, “I think I’m gonna cum. I’m close.”
“Again?” Miguel asked, heart fluttering at you falling apart on his dick.
“Yes, baby. Don’t stop,” you say, voice wavering.
Right as you felt your body beginning to let go, Miguel halted and sat back on the bench.
“No, no, no. Why did you-” You were cut off by Miguel grabbing you and placing you on your shoulders, pussy in his face.
He opened his mouth and pushed his tongue in where his cock once was swirling in and out, sucking at your folds. He starts to hum as if you've fed him his last meal, causing your orgasm to come in waves.
“Oh!” you shout, thighs quivering around his head, one hand gathering a fist of hair and the other pawing at the wall. Miguel was lapping everything up, holding you so that you couldn’t even think of falling.
“Ok, ok,” you say, mewling as he kept you in place while your hips shook. “S’too much.” He finally let’s go, placing you back in his lap.
“Did I do good?” he asks, chest rising and falling rapidly now that he catered to you. His face was a mess, evidence of you all down his neck.
You kissed his nose, giggling at his need for praise, “Yes, baby. You did amazing. Fantastic. Perfecto.”
He was practically vibrating with joy, kneading at your thighs.
“But Miggy, there’s still a problem,” you say, holding his face with both hands. “You still didn’t cum yet.”
You watched his face flit through several phases: ecstatic, worried, then hungry.
“Can I keep going?” he asks, hands starting to roam again.
You simply nod and try to prepare yourself for him moving you around again.
He sinks back in slowly, careful of your sensitive body. You try your best to move, hips working in circles, hands holding onto his thighs. You couldn't help but to squeeze onto him, despite how tired you were.
“You look so pretty,” Miguel mumbled.
“Bet I would look prettier if you finished. Inside.”
That fired him up even more. He started to help you to bounce up and down his length, teeth gritted. You held your head back, eyes scrunched at the feeling of him inside again.
Then he started to whimper, a telltale sign that he was close.
“Can you say it again, please?” he said, moving to stand with you in his arms.
“Say what?” you ask, exhausted yet in awe that he still had so much energy. “That I want you to cum inside? Fill me up?”
You could feel him twitch inside of you, mind hazy at the thought.
“Shockingly, no. My name. Porfa, mi vida. I need to hear it.” He was still holding you as he pounded away, eyes never leaving yours.
You’ve been saying his name the whole time, so surely that can’t be it. Then, it dawned on you.
“Let go, Mr. O’Hara,” you say, mouth right next to his.
And so he did. He bent over, hands gripping your sides as he snapped his hips frantically, groaning into your mouth as he kissed you hard. You could feel him seeping inside you, hot liquid filling you up.
You clutch at his shoulders, feeling your hold slipping from how wet his skin was from the shower and the heat. You cry out again, body sore from all of fun and sensitive from overstimulation.
Miguel finally let up for what felt like hours, standing up straight and pulling you off his dick. He hissed at the feeling, angling your body parallel to his so that everything could fall to the shower floor.
You lay your head on his shoulder tiredly, grateful that he was still carrying you.
“That’s going to mess up the drain. You should have just let it stay in me until it took,” you mumble into his shoulder, hearing his breath hitch at your words. “Or until I got to the toilet or something.”
He brought you both back to the bench, “You're on the pill so stop teasing me about that.”
“But that doesn’t mean that you can’t live out your breed-”
“Yeah, yeah. I got it, mi amor,” he says, pecking your lips to stop you from continuing. “Now let's clean you up. Again.”
He reaches for the shower head and checks the temperature. Humming, he aims the spray at your lower area.
You jump and yelp, “That’s so fucking cold!”
“Bébe, it’s literally warm. I just checked!”
No wonder he was about to die in the steam, “You know how hot I like my showers, and that’s ice cold right now.”
“Well I’m sorry it’s not burning, but we have to clean you up,” he said, trying to console you. “I’ll warm you up later.”
You look at him and there’s this playful look on his face. “No,” you say, just the thought of doing this again making you sleepy.
You eye his body up and down. “Maybe later.”
He just chuckled and finished up.
An hour later, the two of you are dry, blow dried, and comfortably laid out across the couch with baking competition shows queued up on the TV.
You look up at Miguel from your position on his chest, cheesing from ear to ear.
He feels you staring at him and looks down, eyes warm. “What?” he asks, watching your face light up.
“Nothing. I just love you,” you say, unable to look away.
He kisses you, heart keeping a steady beat, “I love you too.”
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I hope you enjoyed reading! 🩵🩵
Any likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated and welcomed.
(And did anyone catch my Beyoncé Cécred refs?? I have no idea how brand names work with fics so I just stuck to nameless descriptions😭)
- Blue 🧼
1K notes · View notes
changbunnies · 3 months ago
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Evermore (18+)
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♡ Pairing: Beast!Changbin x fem!Reader
♡ Genre: beauty and the beast inspired fantasy au, monster/human relationship, some angst, fluff, eventual smut, mutual pining, slow burnish?
♡ Word Count: 15.1k
♡ Summary: Desperate to flee an arranged marriage, you take your chances fleeing into the woods. The home of countless myths and legends, many in your village believe the forest to be enchanted, with all manner of dangerous creatures lurking within. You never took stock in such tales, much less in that of the most feared of them all– “The Beast.” But when you are saved from a pack of wolves by The Beast himself, you quickly realize that there is more truth to the fables you grew up on than you ever believed. 
♡ Warnings: mention of an arranged marriage for reader, referenced misogyny, risk of death / near death experience, mild blood and injury, bin's appearance as the beast is based on minotaurs because i think it's sexy!, his height is never stated but i pictured him as ~10 feet tall while writing so :)
♡ Smut Warnings: monster fucking but make it Soft and Sweet,  size difference, size kink, bin is touch-starved and feral for reader (but feral in a way that is somehow still soft?), handjob, oral (m + f rec), cum eating
♡ Notes: happy very late birthday to my sweet binnie <3 i wanted to get this out on his birthday but my life has been a mess tbh lmao but i'm back now and here's to loving changbin with my whole heart <3
♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.
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There were many things in your life you were willing to sacrifice for the sake of family.
Time, if they were in need or want of company. Money, whatever little you had, if they were in need of something they couldn't afford on their own. Your health, if they were sick and needed caring, even if giving them aid brought their illness upon you.
But the one thing you could not bring yourself to do was marry that terrible man.
They wanted you to marry a local hunter with some wealth, one who could provide for you and your family with his talents. He wasn't unpleasant to look at, and admittedly his wealth had appeal to families suffering from poverty, but you just couldn't get past his dreadful personality.
He was insufferably arrogant in his pride, and truly awful in his views towards women. He didn't want a wife– he wanted a maid; one he could lie with and have bear his children. His desire for such was clear every time you spoke with him.
You knew that he'd never see you as a partner, or an equal, or even love you. In his eyes, you were nary more than a pretty object for him to do with as he pleased. You didn't want that to be your life, refused to be a glorified servant to such a horrid person.
And so, in the dead of night on the eve of your wedding, you made your escape. Tiptoeing through your house as quietly and carefully as you could, you tucked away what little belongings you had and food your family could spare into a basket, and fled into the woods surrounding your village.
You veered off the beaten path, hoping that if you fled into the dense heart of the forest no one would risk trying to find you. Your village believed the woods to be inhabited by dangerous creatures– all manner of fae and magical beasts that would not hesitate to bring harm to lost humans.
All who left the village stuck strictly to the dirt paved roads, and even hunters didn't wander too far inside the woods. You didn't fear the creatures of fable, to be honest; you didn't even believe they existed. You were an avid reader, and enjoyed your share of fairy tales; you just found it hard to believe such creatures existed beyond the page.
It was risky and dangerous to flee into the woods at night, but not because of the stories of magic beasts and trickster fae; such things were the machinations of imaginative writers, and nothing more. Those who believed in them were simply overly superstitious, fearful of what could be instead of what is.
What you were scared of were the tangible, real threats that you knew very well existed. Wild animals, strange men, violent hunters– those were the things lurking in the woods that people should really be scared of; not silly stories of fairies who lure unsuspecting villagers deeper into the forest.
Regardless of what is real and what isn't, one thing is for certain– the forest is frightening to navigate at night. To ensure you remained undetected and hard to track, you forwent bringing a lantern with you, and having only the moonlight to guide you is both challenging and unnerving.
Even the smallest of noises puts you on edge, but you refuse to stop moving onward. You want to put as much distance between you and the village as you can before your family rises in the morning and notices you missing.
While you doubt many will be willing to follow your trail once they've put together that you've fled off the road and deep into the woods, you can't deny the possibility that someone may wish to try. Especially your arranged husband considering what a skilled hunter and tracker he is.
Still, you do need some rest– you've been walking through the densest parts of the forest for over an hour now, and you're more than a little tired; especially since you only got a few hours of sleep before setting off.
Just a short pause should be acceptable; you can rest against a tree, rummage through your basket for some of the food you tucked away to replenish your energy while giving your legs and feet the break they need.
It's nearly impossible to see inside your basket, so you simply feel for the food you want with your hand. It doesn't take you long to find the loaf of bread you packed inside, and you carefully tear off a piece to eat. You take a bite, and then another, but before you can take a third you hear a noise that makes you freeze.
The snapping of a branch, much louder than any previous forest sounds you heard, followed by a slight rustling of leaves. You look in the direction you heard the noise, met with the terrifying sight of a pair of glowing eyes looking straight at you.
Their low proximity to the ground tells you enough about the creature to make your blood run cold; and as it steps closer, and its silhouette becomes clearer, you realize what you thought was correct. It’s a wolf. And by the way it’s sizing you up, you can guess it’s hungry.
To make matters worse, it soon becomes clear it isn’t the only one as more glowing eyes emerge between the dark trees. You start running before you can even truly think, your body running purely on survival instinct, your basket dropped and forgotten behind you. The small amount of food inside is enough to draw the attention of some of them, but the rest ignore it to give chase.
You flee with all your strength, doing your best not to stumble and fall over protruding tree roots or your own feet. You keep your eyes forward as you do, worrying that looking over your shoulder to see the wolves close behind will only worsen your efforts to get away. 
Your lungs ache, your feet hurt, your dress torn in multiple places from snagging on branches– but still, you can’t stop running. The wolves are faster than you, they’ll catch you eventually, you know it; but the desperation and adrenaline coursing through your veins keeps you going beyond your limits. 
Your legs will give out before long, you'll falter and lose speed, it's inevitable; but you will yourself to keep going for as long as you can despite it. Realistically, your only hope for survival is the wolves losing interest before you grow too tired to continue. But is that even a possibility?
Maybe you should climb a tree? Can wolves climb? No, more importantly, can you? It’s over for you if you misstep or lose your strength during the climb up– falling would assuredly be the end of you. 
Still, maybe it’s worth the risk. You can’t run forever, and it’s unlikely the wolves will give up the chase– better to try and fail than to not try at all, right? If you are to face death tonight, you wish to do so knowing that you tried everything you possibly could to escape it.
You scan your surroundings the best you can whilst running, looking for a tree with a branch low enough to the ground for you to feasibly reach and start your climb. It's a difficult task, the images before you as you run a dark blur; but eventually, you spot a branch you think will be suitable enough.
As you turn your body to reach out for it, one of the wolves lunges towards you, salivating jaws snapping at you. The wolf narrowly misses, instead biting through your dress and tearing a significant chunk of the fabric off, exposing your leg up to your thigh.
You let out an involuntary shriek at the sound of the fabric ripping in the wolf’s jaws, the knowledge that it easily could’ve been your leg chilling you to the bone. You’re terrified, but you can’t let yourself freeze up– it missed, and now is your best chance to get up the tree before it can try to bite you again, or the other wolves catch up with you.
You grab the branch, placing your foot on the trunk of the tree as you ready yourself to pull up your weight, but as you do you’re met with a sound that sinks your heart to the very pit of your stomach. The branch isn’t as sturdy as you hoped; it creaks and splinters as you pull, and it quickly becomes clear that should you attempt to pull your entire weight up with it, it will snap entirely.
So this is it, you think as you turn around to meet the gaze of the snarling wolf. You take a small step back, and then another, until your back is against the tree you hoped to climb. More wolves soon approach, and you know you’re cornered now. There’s nowhere else for you to go, nothing else you can think to try; your fate is sealed.
You try to make peace with it in these last moments you have; this isn’t how you imagined your life would someday end, but you knew the risks when it came to entering the woods. While you hoped differently, this was always a possibility. You were desperate, and you made your choice; and though the outcome is unfortunate, you don’t want to regret making the decision that brought you here.
As the wolves begin to fully encircle you, there is a loud thump in the distance that draws their attention away from you. The sound rings out again, and then again, and as it draws closer, you realize the ground is shaking, a cacophony of twigs and dried leaves snapping with each thump. Certainly you’re mistaken, but it sounds reminiscent of walking..
That’s impossible, isn’t it? The creature in question would have to be massive to cause the earth to shake around you this much, and to snap so many branches with each step. That simply can’t be reality– there’s no way something that big lives in the forest; giants and the like are nothing but fairy tales!
Still, the thumps continue to grow louder as whatever is causing the sounds draw closer, and you’re certain that if you weren’t already against a tree, you would’ve fallen over from how intensely the ground shakes. Some wolves whimper and flee with their tails between their legs, while the more ferocious of the pack stand their ground against whatever it is that approaches.
Its shadowy silhouette soon becomes visible through the trees, the forest floor shaking violently as it comes more clearly into view. You can’t tell what it is, but it's big– impossibly so. It’s too dark to make out features, and its height obscures the moonlight that was previously shining on you. The only thing you can make out through the shadow is.. Horns?
Unconsciously, you suck in a breath; it’s The Beast, you realize as it takes another hulking step towards you and the ravenous wolves. Half man, half monster, violent and aggressive, with an appetite for any foolish enough to wander into its territory. With horns and hooves, it easily towers over even the tallest of human men.
He’s the creature those living in your village fear the most, the subject of many cautionary tales told to children, the conjurer of countless hunter's nightmares. You never believed it– and it is only now that you think maybe you should’ve. Maybe if you had, you wouldn’t have been so reckless in your escape from home.
You wonder which fate is worse; to be eaten by wolves, or eaten by The Beast. You wish you could run while the wolves are distracted, but your legs are frozen; whether from exhaustion or terror, you aren’t sure. Regardless, you stand there trembling and helpless, watching as it easily shoves the wolves aside.
They bite and scratch at The Beast, but it makes no discernable sound of pain. Seemingly unphased, it (or he?) reaches out for you, lifting you from the ground with ease, as if you weigh little more than a feather. You sob as it does, squeezing your eyes shut as you anticipate the pain to follow.
But the pain never comes. Slowly, you open one eye to peek at The Beast; it isn’t looking at you, but simply straight ahead as it resumes walking. He continues to shove off the wolves that attack, and as the animals realize it is futile to stop or slow him, they slowly but surely give up and retreat back to whence they came.
He must’ve made a turn before you opened your eyes, because the moon is no longer obscured by his size, and now illuminates the creature’s face clearly. His face is mostly that of a man’s, with the exception of his nose. 
His nose is a rich brown bespeckled in pink, you can just barely tell, and its shape reminds you of the cattle that farmers own back in your village. You notice that his ears are bovine too, and fluffy in appearance. Brown in color, you think, or maybe black; it’s too dark to tell for certain.
The Beast looks down at you as if it can feel you observing him, and when he does, you can feel his breath envelop your body. Its smell is.. pleasant? Surprisingly so; like mixed berries, with a hint of tea leaves.
You expected something worse, given the tales; shouldn’t he smell like blood, or flesh? Even when his breath leaves you, you don’t detect anything remotely foul coming from him. In fact, his body smells unexpectedly clean.
“Safe now,” The Beast speaks, and you blink in surprise. You hadn’t expected him to be capable of speech, though you suppose it makes sense if he’s half man. It sounds like he’s trying to whisper, but his voice still comes out quite loud regardless; consequence of his size, you imagine. 
But wait– does he mean you? You’re safe now? It occurs to you then that he’s holding you gently in his large arms. He isn’t squeezing you, constricting your movement, or trying to hurt you in any way; he’s simply carrying you. But to where? Though you’re apparently safe, there’s still a part of you that fears you won’t be for long.
It’s likely that as a half man he has some measure of human intelligence, and it’s very possible this apparent kindness is part of a ploy to make eating you easier. Get you to his den, build trust with you so you don’t run, all so he can relish in devouring you later.
Regardless, you’re too exhausted to do anything right now. Fatigue has settled in you now that the adrenaline has run its course through your body. You wouldn’t be able to run in this state, nor be able to fight him off– not that you think you could anyways, but especially not like this. 
Your body falls limp, your eyes heavy, weary. As you close them, all you can do is hope that The Beast doesn’t toy with you in the end. If you wake before he decides to eat you, your wish is that he makes your death swift and painless. That’s all you can ask for as you lose consciousness.
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When you blink awake, the first thing you register is that you’re in a bed– a large one at that. It’s comfortable, plush, and warm, if not a tad dusty. The blanket that covers you too is warm, and you realize as you continue to blink away the grogginess that you’re staring up at a darkly colored canopy– a deep purple.
Turning your head to the left, you see stained glass windows with a design of red roses filtering in small amounts of sunlight through worn, tattered drapes. On the right side lies the door to the room you’re in, wooden and carved with a motif of roses identical in design to the one on the windows.
How did you get here? You stare back up at the canopy, trying to recall what happened last night. You were walking for what felt like ages, you got tired and stopped to eat.. Wolves found you, you were running, and then.. The Beast! 
You sit up quickly as the memory hits you, and take a panicked look around the room. He isn’t here, you realize after a moment, and your brows furrow in confusion. Did someone else stumble upon you and save you from The Beast? That must be it– there’s no way the dreaded beast of the forest brought you here.
The entire room is covered in a thin layer of dust, though it’s clear that someone made an effort to clean it recently. For your sake, you wonder? Removing the blanket and looking down, you can see you’re still in your torn clothes from the night before. You rise from the bed carefully, your legs still aching from the events prior to waking up here, and take another, more in depth look around the room you’re in.
It’s a rather empty room, with just a few pieces of furniture strewn about, and a fireplace sitting in the center of the wall opposite the bed you were sleeping in. In one of the corners of the room sits a large wardrobe, and next to it a chair with a dress laid atop it that you assume has been placed there for you to change into. 
You walk over to the chair and take the dress into your hands, and it does seem like it’ll fit well enough when you hold it up to your body. It feels to be made of silk, and while not necessarily lavish, it is much fancier than any of the dresses you could get back home.
You consider for a moment if it’s really okay to change into, but ultimately conclude that it was laid out with a purpose, and you should accept the kindness. Besides, you don’t think remaining in your now tattered dress would do you any good.
You change quickly despite the ache remaining in your limbs, and unsure of what exactly to do with your old clothes, you opt for placing them on the same chair you grabbed the new dress from. Afterwards, you step to the rose-carved door, and slowly pull it open to peek out.
You’re not sure if leaving the room is a good idea, but there’s no one in the hall to instruct you otherwise, and you’re admittedly starving. You hope you can find a kitchen, or the person who kindly saved you so you can thank them and ask them for a meal.
The door opens to a long hallway, lined with lattice windows and rusty knight statues. Wall sconces take up the spaces between the windows, though many are missing the candles meant to reside in them. 
Artwork lines the opposite wall, decorating the spaces between what you assume to be other bedroom doors. Some are askew and others perfectly straight, but all are old and worn. Landscapes, still life, portraits– regardless of type, the paint on each and every one has dulled and chipped, with a layer of dust atop them.
Continuing down the hall past the several closed doors, you come to a set of stairs leading down. Following it down leads to another long hall, though this one is quite different. Multiple chandeliers hang from the ceiling, evenly spaced apart in a line. There are vases and statues of various types; human, gargoyle, angel– some few perfectly intact, but many broken in some way, often missing entire limbs.
There are no windows, and the walls are not painted like in the previous hall, but appear to be carved of stone, with each vase and statue nestled between expertly carved columns. There are only two doors in this hall– one in the center of each wall. Both doors are locked when you try them, and so you move on down the hall, eventually finding yet another set of stairs leading down. 
They bring you to what appears to be a grand entryway. Across from you is an identical set of stairs leading to what is likely a similarly structured wing of the castle you appear to be in. To the left, between both sets of stairs, is a large door that nearly touches the ceiling, and to the right a large open hall with what you think are the doors leading outside at the very end of it.
Simply leaving would be tempting if you weren’t in dire need of a meal, or entirely unsure of where exactly you are. You can tell the castle you’re in is quite old given the state of things, but you can’t think of any such old, worn down castles you’ve heard tale of. All the castles you know of are well occupied by royalty; none, as far as you’re aware, have been left to fall to dust and ruin like this.  
It’s terribly confusing, and if you don’t find a kitchen soon, you at least hope you’ll find someone kind and willing to provide you answers. Forgoing the large door that you’re pretty sure leads to a ballroom, as well as the opposite staircase you’re confident will lead to a hall identical to the one you were just in, you step right, to the entry hall.
There are a few doors on each side, and to your relief, one of them is labeled “Dining Hall.” A dining hall has to lead to a kitchen! Eagerly, you pull open the door, and as you do, you gasp when you realize The Beast himself is standing next to the dining table.
He’s looking straight at you, ears flickering in response to the sound of your gasp. You can’t help but freeze, having convinced yourself that it was impossible for him to be here, for him to have been the one to bring you here. You’re too stunned to move– everything in you was expended when fleeing the wolves, and now all you can do is stand before him.
You can see him much better now than you could last night, his every feature clearly defined by the sunlight filtering in through the dining hall’s large windows. His hair is curlier than you realized, and deeply brown, as are his bovine ears. His cheeks are round, his lips pouty and entirely human in shape.
You can also now see clearly just how broad he is– and strong. His torso, while decidedly man, is still much larger than a regular man’s could ever be. His pecs and arms are muscular and well defined, while his stomach appears to be soft, and maybe a little squishy, with a dark patch of fur trailing down beneath his belly button. 
He is in no way similar to a man beneath that point. The Beast has the legs reminiscent of a bull, every inch covered in thick, dark fur down to his hooves. His legs are much thicker than any you’ve ever seen, human or otherwise; you can only conclude this is because he is as strong in his legs as he is in his arms.
Lastly, is a tail swishing leisurely from side to side behind him. You can just barely see it when he’s facing you, but the glimpses you get of it further reminds you of cattle. Long and thin, with a large amount of fur at the tip of it. Part of you wonders if his fur is as soft as it looks– you didn’t feel it last night to know.
Parts of his arms are messily bandaged, bits of red tainting the otherwise white fabric– blood, you conclude, from when the wolves attacked him. He’s wearing a cape, the same shade of deep purple as the canopy that hung over the bed you woke up in, clasped around his collar bone with a golden buckle. The buckle, similar to the doors and some of the stained glass windows, is beholden with the image of a rose. 
It feels wrong to think so, but he’s attractive– were he a purely human man, you’re certain many village girls would swoon for him.
“You’re awake,” he smiles for a moment, clearly human teeth showing for a split second before he stops and timidly breaks direct eye contact. “I wanted to help with torn dress but couldn’t. Hands too big,” he continues, showing his hands to you to further prove his point– not that you need him to. 
“I picked a new one for you instead, glad you found it. Glad you’re wearing it,” he says, and you’re still too surprised to even speak in turn. “Looks.. Nice?” he says with an unsure tilt of the head. It seems as if he wants to compliment you, but is unsure in his word choice. He looks contemplative for a moment, as if mulling over if there’s a better word he could’ve used. 
You get the impression he isn’t used to interacting with humans. You yourself aren’t used to interacting with beasts.
“I wanted to bring you food. You must be hungry! But I don’t know everything humans like to eat..” he muses as he turns his attention back to the dining table, where you now realize an abundance of food is laid out. Nice food. 
Fruit platters, veggie trays, fine meats.. He has it all. If you weren’t already in awe of The Beast, this alone would floor you, because all this food would cost a fortune in your village unless you grew it and hunted for it yourself.
“This is for me..?” you finally find your voice and manage to ask. He nods and waves his hand, beckoning you to approach the table. Cautiously, you do, still in awe of it all.
Tentatively, you stand next to him before the dining room table, taking a nervous glance up towards him. You knew very well he was big and tall, but your difference in height is positively dizzying up close.
Your own stature barely even exceeds past his waist; if you were to look at him straight on, your eyes would be level with his belly button. His hands are bigger than your head, his legs thicker than your entire body. It’s as amazing as it is frightening– how can a creature this big even exist? You swallow, trying not to think about his size as you turn your attention back to the food.
“How did you get all this?” you manage to ask him; you can’t imagine someone as huge as him going out to collect fruits and vegetables– you imagine he’s much too big to be able to do so without struggling.
“I trade with friends of the forest. Little winged ones love shiny, sparkly things. They give me food in exchange,” he answers as if it’s the most normal thing in the world. Well, for him, it is normal. But you can’t imagine this big, burly man-beast trading with fairies. You’re hardly even ready to accept he’s real, much less that fairies are!
It’s all too much to wrap your head around. Maybe you should just eat– maybe everything will start to make more sense once your stomach is full. You hope.
You find a bare plate on the table, and pick it up to start loading food onto. The Beast watches you, seemingly happy that you’re choosing to eat the food he has out on the table. Once satisfied, you take a seat, giving him one last cursory glance before focusing on the meal in front of you.
“Aren’t you going to eat too? This is a lot of food,” you inquire as you start to nibble on the fruit you picked out. “Wanted to make sure you got enough,” he replies, "You had a bad night, used a lot of energy. Need to have enough food to recover."
You can’t believe how seemingly nice, considerate, and intelligent The Beast is. Not only is he real, but he seems to be genuinely kind and caring. The stories paint him as violent, ferocious, ravenously blood-thirsty.. But the creature in front of you seems so far removed from those things.
“What’s your name?” you ask him, and he seems surprised for a moment. He must not have been expecting you to ask. “Little winged ones call me Changbin,” he answers. You repeat it back to him, and he smiles just a little as he nods his head. “Your name?” he asks after, and he repeats it to himself after you offer it, just the same as you did with his.
“Do you live here?” is your next question, and he nods once more. “Alone?” you follow up, and again he nods. It’s clear that Changbin isn’t the castle's original inhabitant, and you wonder how long it lay abandoned before he claimed it as his home.
Of course, he could’ve killed the owners to take it, but the more you speak with him, you simply can’t imagine him being so cold blooded. He seems too… sweet.
A more pressing question– where are you exactly? You’re certain you’re still within the bounds of the forest, as you saw nothing but trees every time you looked out a window. But if that’s the case, how has an entire castle gone unnoticed? Castles aren’t exactly small– surely you and the other villagers would’ve seen it poking through the top of the trees.
Was it the magic that people believed the forest to hold that left it obscured? Or was it so deep in the forest, with the trees that surround it so tall and dense that even spying it from a distance was impossible? No matter the truth, the simple fact remains that there is much more to the forest than you ever thought, and it’s a lot to digest all at once.
“Why did you save me?” you decide to ask him instead of trying to unravel the mysteries and secrets of the forest. “You needed help,” he answers easily, “humans fear me, but I always try to help.” 
It’s easy to imagine his words true. A human like you, perhaps a hunter accidentally straying too far into the forest. They find themselves lost, hurt, or in trouble, and Changbin finds them.
He tries to help, but in their terror, they flee further into danger, get themselves more lost, strain an already injured leg.. And the ones who make it back tell a terrifying tale of The Beast in the forest who wished to devour them when all he actually wanted to do was help them. It’s a bit sad to consider in all honesty. 
“When you're feeling better, do you want to go back home?” he asks once you’ve finished your meal, and it takes you by surprise. “I’d help you. Take you as far as I could. Help you find path."
He’d really help you get home..? Just like that? You begin to feel bad that even after he rescued you, gave you a warm place to sleep, a new change of clothes and a meal, there was still a part deep inside you that feared what his intentions with you could be.
“No,” you answer after a moment, “I was in the forest trying to get away from home. My life there.. It wouldn’t be good if I went back.” 
“Then.. you stay? I’ll help you. Protect you,” Changbin offers, a faint smile appearing on his lips when you nod.
“I’ll stay,” you affirm. It’ll be strange at first, you’re sure, living in a castle in the middle of the apparently enchanted woods with The Beast your village fears so much. But you’d rather live here, with a physical beast, rather than back home, with the metaphorical one you’d be forced to call “husband.”
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Living with The Beast, Changbin, is surprisingly pleasant. It was easier than you expected it to be; almost natural.
On your first official night in the abandoned castle he made his home, he gave you a tour. What was intended to be a tour of strictly the important rooms you’d be expected to frequent turned into a several hour long walkthrough of the entire estate. He took you through the kitchen, the bathrooms, the study, the drawing room, the library, the watchtower– everything.
You could tell which rooms he frequented most by how dusty they were. If there was very little dust, you concluded that he was there often. If there was a large accumulation of it, he stayed out of it.
The watchtower was one of the rooms he liked to be in the most, often finding himself surveying the forest from it. That's how he saw you fleeing the wolves– and the moment he did, he descended the tower in a rush, hoping to get to you before any harm would befall you.
Additionally, you learned that his bedroom is in the opposite wing of yours. Changbin said he purposely chose the room furthest from his own to put you in because he thought you’d be more comfortable that way if you chose to stay for a while. He’s used to humans fearing him, and he wanted to give you whatever distance you’d need to feel safe during your time here.
Truthfully, you stopped being scared of him very quickly. If there was anyone the term “gentle giant” suited, it was assuredly Changbin. He always stepped through the castle carefully, doing his best not to shake the ground too hard and risk shattering glass or knocking over vulnerable statues and vases. 
He knew his voice was booming, so he always tried to speak softly. It was still loud, of course, but you knew it could be much louder if he allowed himself to project it fully. When he handled porcelain or other breakables, he would move his hands so slowly and carefully that you’d think he was holding a newborn baby.
Changbin would often stare at you quietly when you were in the same room, assumedly out of curiosity. He’d never gotten the chance to share a space with a human, or to observe them up close for such great lengths of time; it made you wonder what he must think of you. 
You wondered if there was anything he assumed a human would be that didn’t prove true, similar to how wrong you were about him. You always noticed his staring, and oftentimes when you decided to return his gaze, he’d quickly turn away.
Did he have the gut human instinct to look away when eye contact becomes too intense or prolonged? Was he simply shy? Both?
Sometimes he would smile before he looked away, the faintest peek of a dimple showing on his cheek before darting his eyes elsewhere. Sometimes his cheeks would dust over a soft pink, and other times, on the rare moments he let himself smile more fully, the bridge of his nose would scrunch up similarly to a humans.
Was it strange to say you found such moments cute? He was oddly endearing in the way he went about life, in his mannerisms and complexities. And admittedly, you’d stare at him the same way he stared at you when his attention was elsewhere.
At first, you justified it to yourself by saying you couldn’t help it– you discovered a magical creature that you always thought was nothing more than a story is real. How could you not stare at him? But lately, you weren’t so sure that’s all there was to it.
Changbin was many things outside of being The Beast. He was warm, soft, and sincere. Caring, considerate, and careful. He was.. Attractive. Handsome. Cute. Words you never thought you’d use to describe a creature with protruding horns and other inhuman features. And with each season passed inside the castle together, the more you grew fond of him. 
You spent many afternoons together in the library. You were surprised to learn he could read; something that perhaps shouldn’t have been surprising in hindsight, given his capability of speech, but it still shocked you. The ability to read wasn’t something necessary to his everyday life, but he liked doing it to pass time, or ease the loneliness of living alone.
All the books in the castle’s library were dated, easily hundreds of years old; it was clear that every single book was one left behind by the previous inhabitants, and not a single new book had entered the library since. Their age didn’t make them any less enjoyable however, and in fact you found it exciting to have so many stories you’d never heard of before to dive into. 
Watching Changbin read was a treat within itself. Even the thickest of novels looked comically small in his large hands, and turning pages was always a struggle for him. You couldn’t help but giggle watching him try to turn a single page with his finger, only to instead turn several. There were many times you took it upon yourself to help him once your giggling subsided. 
Given his size, he’d often have to sit in a hunched position, or hold books up quite close to his face to read them. And the words– they must’ve looked so tiny to him; you were certain it was a strain. Then add his struggle to turn pages on top of it..
While it was cute to watch him pout after he turned way too many pages at once, you also didn’t want to just sit idly by if he was having a hard time. Especially not when you were more than capable of assisting him.
He was surprised when you first offered to help him read, curiously tilting his head as he watched you close the book you were reading to walk over to him. Changbin often sat on the floor, much too big and heavy to sit in the castle’s arm chairs or sofas. His place on the floor made it easy for you to climb up his leg, and sit on his thigh. 
“I could turn the pages for you,” you explained, reaching over to the book lying in his hands to demonstrate how easy it is for you to turn the pages one at a time. “Or read them to you, should your eyes grow tired from looking at the tiny words,” you said. 
You remember his smile clearly; how sweet it was, and the way his nose cutely scrunched as his smile grew the biggest you’d seen it. He seemed really thankful; he didn’t say it, but you think it meant a lot to him that you were showing him kindness.
That’s how you fell into a comfortable routine. At least a few afternoons a week, you’d sit somewhere on Changbin’s body; one of his thighs if you were reading the book to him, or his forearm if you were turning the pages for him. Sometimes his shoulder too, if a book needed to be held especially close to his face for him to be able to read the words written.
When the sun would set, and candles needed to be lit, you often sat on his shoulder as he moved about the room, helping him light them. He’d always help you up carefully, offering one of his large hands as support, or carefully wrap his fingers around you to lift you up to his shoulder. He wouldn’t move an inch or take a single step until he was certain you were steady and comfortable.
You’d always get sleepy after that. The moon through the windows, the soft candle light, the sound of turning pages as the wood in the library’s fireplace crackled, the warmth Changbin exuded.. It was just so comfortable; especially if you were sitting on his thigh.
His fur was like a blanket, his broad, soft torso like a warm pillow. And sometimes, when you relaxed all the way against him, you could hear his heart rhythmically beating. It wasn’t uncommon for you to fall asleep, and every time you did, Changbin would carry you back to your room.
He would carefully cradle you in his arms, and you’d unconsciously curl into him as he rose up from the ground to carry you to bed. The doors of the castle, while larger than any typical door, were still too small to accommodate his size. 
He’d have to duck through them while also minding his horns, your body pressing to his chest as he hunched his body to step through them. If you were awake enough to feel it, you never minded it. If you were being honest, you liked it. You liked the warmth when he held you, liked feeling his chest against you, liked hearing the thumping of his heart.
Sometimes, you were tempted to ask him to stay with you, or to ask him to take you to his room. Changbin was just so comfortable and warm– having him next to you all night just sounded like it’d be so pleasant. Safe too; you always felt safe in his presence.
The following mornings, you’d stare up at your canopy and wonder if such thoughts were okay to have. Changbin was a man– an inhuman man, but a man all the same. And it was in these moments, alone in your room and fresh from sleep, contemplating where you are and the life you lead now that you realize you are more than just fond of Changbin. 
You knew you would never leave the castle, but it wasn’t just because your best chance at survival and protection was here. It was because the thought of leaving him behind made your heart squeeze painfully in your chest. You didn’t like contemplating what a life without him in it would look like. 
And it was almost funny how despite being a beast, Changbin was the kindest man you’d ever known. Complicated as it may be, you think you love him more than you should. You want him more than you should.
It’d hit you when you shared meals, and he’d watch you with his impossibly dark, warm eyes. His attentive stare made you warm– too warm. You’d swallow, try to focus on anything other than his full lips, or the swell of his chest, or the flex of his arms when he reached out to grab a piece of meat. 
It'd hit you when you watched him split wood for the fireplaces with his bare hands. Your heart would swell when you'd step out to the gardens, and he'd carefully maneuver so as to not crush the growing flowers. From innocent, sweet love to deepest, carnal desire, and then back again, your thoughts of Changbin were like a pendulum.
It’d even hit you in the moments of comfortable silence, when ease settled over you both at day's end. When you’d tentatively steal glances at each other until your eyes accidentally meet, and you both look away, bashful and unsure. 
You’d feel it creeping on you, warming your body exponentially until you felt feverish with desire to be closer to him. Even alone, in bed or in the bath, your thoughts would linger on him. Innocent thoughts and curiosities about how it'd be for him to kiss and hold you quickly give way to perversion– impure thoughts you really, really think you shouldn’t be having. 
You needed to get yourself together. There’s no way an intimate relationship is feasible between you– you shouldn’t even be entertaining the thought. But God, you can’t stop your mind from going there. Even just watching him lick his lips and fingers clean after he finishes eating is enough to get your heart racing these days.
Every day, you desperately try to ignore it.
It’s easier on the days you venture outside the castle’s familiar walls. Warm, sunny days, where you explore the forest from the safety of Changbin’s broad shoulder. He showed you so many things you’d never seen before, things you never thought were real.
Fairy villages, magic healing ponds, meadows of enchanted flowers. His fairy friends were excited to meet you, and similar to Changbin himself, you realized they were much kinder than tales would lead you to believe. 
They were tricksters, yes; many were fond of a good prank. But really, they just wanted to have fun, and there was no inherent harm in that. (Though Changbin did advise you to speak carefully, lest you accidentally end up in a fae pact he’d have no way to help you out of.)
You watched Changbin trade with them too. A few beads from a broken necklace or marbles from a forgotten child’s playset he found within the castle you called home was all he needed to provide to receive bushels of their freshly grown fruits and vegetables.
If you returned back to the castle with a good chunk of daylight left, you’d spend them together in the castle’s flower garden. It was overgrown, and sometimes hard to navigate, but you always enjoyed your time there. Changbin would always set you down to the ground carefully, letting you roam the garden at your leisure while he picked a sunny spot in the grass to relax in.
You got the idea to make him a flower crown once. It was something you and other village girls enjoyed doing, and it was common to give them to people you cared for. It was simple, but you thought it’d be a good way to show your appreciation to Changbin for all the ways he helped you since the day you met him. 
You wondered, as you went around the garden picking flowers, if he had ever received a gift before. Apart from his dealings with the fairies, he lived a very isolated life before he met you. And while the fairies were his friends to some extent, you couldn’t imagine them giving something away without receiving something in return. 
You suppose you just wanted him to have the feeling of joy that comes with a gift. The warm feeling that settles in your chest when you realize someone was thinking of you, the delight that seeps inside you when you see the effort they made to give you a visual representation of how much they care for you. You were thinking that Changbin deserves to have that feeling.
When you were done collecting what felt like dozens of flowers, you sat yourself in the sunny grass clearing next to Changbin. He was lying flat on his back, the sun highlighting his face beautifully. His eyes were closed, and the soft snores (for his size, anyways), told you he’d fallen asleep. 
You observed him for a moment, smiling to yourself over how soft and cute his features looked whilst sleeping before you got to work on the flower crown. It took quite some time considering you had to make it much larger than you typically would. Changbin eventually stirred awake and sat up, watching you work curiously but ultimately saying nothing as he observed– he didn’t want to distract you.
“Finally! All done!” you exclaimed after threading the final of the flowers you picked together, and Changbin did his usual inquisitive tilt of the head. “It’s pretty. What is it for?” he asked, watching as you rise to your feet with your creation in hand. “It’s a flower crown,” you answer as you hold it out to him to accept, “for you.” 
He simply blinked in response, saying nothing as he processed the information. It may not have been the first time he’d ever been given a gift by another, but it was certainly the first one he’d ever received from a human. You didn’t intend to let it be the last, either. “Crown?” he finally asked after a moment, “I wear it?”
“Mhm! Like this,” you said as you held the crown around your head to try to show him what you meant. “It’s too big for my head since I made it for you, but.. Here, let me put it on you!” You hooked the flower crown you made gently around your arm after you spoke, and grabbed at one of his hands.
Changbin understood what you wanted him to do, and so he lowered his hands to the ground so that you could step onto them. You sat on your knees whilst in his hands, finding it much easier to keep your balance that way as opposed to standing; and then, as he had many times before, he lifted you carefully up.
You instructed him to tilt his head towards you, and he did without question. It occurred to you then that maybe you underestimated how big you needed to make the flower crown.
The one you made was definitely big– too big for a human head, that was for sure. Still, Changbin is at least double the size of every man in your village, and he has horns. Realizing there was no way to make it sit around his head the way it's intended to, you opted for simply placing it on his head between his horns, and letting it rest there.
You smiled at him when he lifted his head, and told him what you truly thought– that he looked cute. “Really?” he questioned, surprised to be considered such. There have been many words by humans and his little winged friends used to describe him, and ‘cute’ wasn’t usually among them.
You watched him as he processed his thoughts, another few moments passing before he moved his hands to one of his shoulders, urging you to get on. You did, clinging to his cape tightly when he moved faster than you expected him to. Changbin was always patient and careful when you were on him, always moving slowly– you hadn’t anticipated the sudden change in the slightest. 
You were a little confused, unsure of what his sudden rush to leave the gardens was, but it quickly became clear; he was looking for somewhere to see his reflection. He tried the fountain first, but when he realized he couldn’t see himself clearly enough in the water, he made his way back to the castle.
The entry doors to the castle were tall and wide enough that he didn’t have to hunch or awkwardly step through them, but he still moved carefully through it. Despite his rush to see himself, he still wasn’t walking as fast as you both knew he could.
He was trying his best not to break the glass and porcelain inside nearby cabinets with his steps, though he was still moving quick enough that the castle’s floor shook as he continued through the entry hall. His desire to be careful even whilst in a rush was endearing; it brought a smile to your face.
The ballroom was Changbin’s ultimate destination. It had a large mirror, floor to ceiling, encompassing a substantial chunk of the wall opposite the windows. It was the only room in the entire castle that had a mirror large enough for him to see his entire reflection with, from the tips of his horns all the way down to his hooved feet.
His eyes changed when he first saw his reflection– so fast that you would’ve missed it if you’d blinked. He got up close to the mirror, examining himself with the flower crown you made for him resting between his horns, and truly, he looked happy.
You chose the colors of the flowers well, each one meant to compliment the deep brown of his hair. Soft yellows, vibrant blues, and light, pretty pinks– each selection, in your eye, was perfect. You were relieved that Changbin seemed to agree.
He wasn’t just looking at the flowers atop his head in the reflection though; he was also looking at you. Sat there on his shoulder, looking at him with more kindness than he’d ever felt from anyone. Your eyes met through the reflection, and he could feel his heart starting to beat faster– he wondered if you could feel it too, with your legs dangling over his chest.
He’d never felt this way before, and didn’t know what to do with himself. He knew from his books that humans give gifts to people they care about, and for many reasons. Kindness, appreciation, love.. What was your reason? He found himself hoping it was all of them. He hoped you cared about him as much as he cares about you.
“Thank you,” Changbin said, realizing that he should’ve done so from the start. He thought maybe he should read more books on human manners and improve himself. He hoped he didn’t seem inappreciative by taking so long to thank you for doing something kind for him. His worries melted away when you smiled at him again though, sincere and sweet as always.
“You’re welcome! You’ve always done so much to help me, I wanted to thank you somehow,” you explain. Changbin didn’t think you needed to thank him for anything. No matter who it was out in the forest that night, he would’ve helped them. He’d have let them stay in his home, fed them, and made sure they were well.
But he’s glad it was you; he doesn’t think he could envision the castle without you in it anymore. There may come a day when you grow tired of Changbin being your only companion, and of your daily life in the castle. On that day, you may wish to return to human society, even if your return isn’t to the village you grew up in. 
He’d let you go if you wanted to; he’d never, never force you to stay. But he hopes you stay. He hopes that you’ll always be here with him.
“But that’s not the only reason I made it,” you continued, finding a moment of bravery to be a bit vulnerable with your feelings. Changbin watched your expression change in the mirror, your brightness replaced by something more timid as you twiddled your thumbs.
Apart from your tentative first nights here when you were still getting comfortable with his presence, you always met his gaze head on while talking. This was the first time since then that you hesitated to look him in the eye whilst speaking to him, even if it was just eye contact through the ballroom mirror. He found it curious; he wondered if he should be worried.
“The girls in my village also like to make these for people we care about. I wanted you to know that too. That I care about you,” you told him. It felt incredibly nerve wracking to say it aloud, though you didn't think he'd pick up on the underlying romantic sentiment that village girls usually tied to their gifted flower crowns.
Honestly, it was okay if he didn’t recognize how much you like him. Perhaps in some ways it was better if he didn’t; because you are a small human, and Changbin is so much more than that.
Difference in anatomy aside, you don’t think humans and beasts are supposed to have deep feelings for one another. Friendship was fine, you thought, but love? You just weren’t sure that was a line you should cross.
Still, regardless of whether or not such feelings towards him were okay to have, they were already there. Before that day, you thought you loved him; but seeing him look at you, pink in the cheeks and happy, with the flower crown on his head that you made him, you knew for certain.
You love him. And watching the concern melt away and turn to joy when you told him you care about him was more than enough to tell you how deeply you adore him.
You decided to leave the moment with one last, small gesture. You leaned over, and placed a soft kiss on his cheek. It was a simple, innocent sign of affection, but his heart stuttered all the same, as did yours.
“I care about you too,” he’d said with his usual soft, timid smile when you looked at him again, the pink on his cheeks deepening, "very much.”
Laying awake as you are now, recalling your memories with Changbin, you yearn for him even more. You want him beyond friendship, foolish and impossible as it may be. You want to tell him you love him, to kiss him, to lie with him at night and feel his warmth envelope you all over. 
You want to touch him, want him to touch you, want to straddle as much of his waist as you can as he lies beneath you, and– God, enough, you huff to yourself. You roll over, bury your head in your pillows and let out a frustrated yell into them. 
You wish you knew what to do with these feelings. How would things go if you simply told him? What if you said nothing, and instead acted on them in one of your quietly shared moments of comfort? Would he accept your kiss? Would he return your feelings?
Tossing onto your back once more, you stare up at your canopy as you always do when your brain is plagued by thoughts of Changbin. You sigh after a moment, and close your eyes, wondering if he ever lies awake at night like you do, if he has feelings like yours that he too doesn’t know what to do with. Though you probably shouldn’t, you can’t help but hope that he does.
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The arrival of winter didn't make your struggle with your feelings for Changbin any easier. The outdoors used to serve as a distraction; your growing love and attraction to him was never truly silenced, but at least you found it easier to focus your attention elsewhere whilst you were outside the castle walls.
All you can do when you're inside the castle is think of him. When you're in the same room, you find it hard not to stare at him. And sure, you stared at him a lot before, but now it felt different; because before, you were simply curious about him. Now it's purely because you're too lovesick to look anywhere else.
When you read books together, you often find that you don't actually remember what happened in the story. At some point, your thoughts always travel to Changbin, and they linger there despite all efforts to focus on the book in your hands.
The fact that his body is touching yours more often these days doesn't help. It's a particularly cold winter, perhaps the coldest it's ever been in all your years. Snow is piled up to your calves when you step outside, tree branches are completely frosted over, and icicles hang from nearly every inch of the castle's exterior.
Suffice it to say, you are often very cold. Changbin doesn't suffer from the cold nearly as much as you do, but he does his best to keep the castle warmer for your sake. The minute you step into a room he lights the fireplace for you, and you stick close to it, sitting before it with a blanket wrapped around your shoulders.
But even still, you found yourself shivering much more than either of you'd like. The only time you stopped was when you were in his lap, likely thanks to the inhuman amount of warmth that radiates off his body.
So now, instead of sitting or laying in his lap just being a part of helping him read, you'd spend a majority of your winter days there, clinging to his warmth. He'd sit himself as close to the fireplace as he could, with you curled snuggly on his lap.
His fur was like an extra blanket, warm and soft and comfortable. Nearly every day was spent next to the library's fireplace, as reading was about the only thing you could do whilst trying to stay warm.
Though, as previously stated, you found it hard to focus on reading lately. And even when you did manage to focus on the words in front of you, your eyes would quickly grow heavy; Changbin was just too comfortable to lay on– you just couldn't resist dozing off.
Every night was cold, but some were worse than others. On the first of one of those extra chilly nights, when the time in which you'd go your separate ways for bed came, Changbin hesitated to carry you back to your room. Even if he lit your fireplace before he left, you'd be cold without him, he knew it for a fact.
He looked down at where he held you in his arms, asleep and curled into him, cozy and warm, and he made a decision; he took you to his room. You would understand, he thought. You may be confused when you wake up in a room that isn’t your own, but you’d understand why you were there.
And you trust him now; you wouldn’t be upset with him, especially not when he has your best interest at heart. He hoped not, anyways; in his experience, humans can be unpredictable. But you're a good human– one that he likes and cares for more than he ever has for anyone else.
With such thoughts in mind, he carried you to his room. And as he hoped, you weren't upset in the slightest to wake up the next morning beside him (or more accurately, atop him.)
You were certainly confused at first, opening your eyes and blinking away sleep only to be met with slightly unfamiliar surroundings. The windows and the view through them were the same, but the room was brighter than your own, with no curtains to obscure the sunrays pouring over you. There was less furniture strewn about than in your own room, and you were higher up from the ground than you’d be if you were lying in your own bed.
It took a moment for you to become cognitive enough to register that the reason for this, along with what the blissful warmth you were feeling was, was Changbin's body underneath you. One of his hands was resting on your back too, heavy and limp with sleep, but you didn't mind it. Strangely, you found the weight of his hand on your back comforting.
Your head was on his chest, and you could hear the rhythmic beating of his heart, slow but steady. That too, was comforting. You closed your eyes again, but you didn't fall asleep like you might otherwise expect. You were simply basking in the comfort, enjoying lying with him in bed like you'd been wanting to for so long. You wondered if he'd let you stay even once winter came to an end. 
When you felt him begin to stir awake, you lifted your head to look at him, watching him fondly as he stretched and hummed, and blinked away the last bits of whatever dream he was having. When your eyes met for the first time that morning, he seemed apprehensive; it was easy to deduce that he thought you may be uncomfortable with his choice to bring you here. 
Ideally, he would've asked you first, or let you know that the option would be available should you want it; but when he thought about how cold you'd be shivering alone in bed, he just couldn't leave you be. When you smiled at him and whispered a soft good morning, you saw nothing but pure relief in his eyes.
You knew Changbin's heart, that he was nothing but sweet and caring. The trust you placed in him, and the way you wordlessly understood him made his heart soar. But not just that– laying with you every night, and waking up to you in general made his body react in ways entirely foreign to him.
Naturally, from that cold winter’s night onward, you always slept with him. Your body, so soft and smooth, felt good pressed against him. If you weren’t yet asleep when he’d lie down with you in his arms, you’d hug him after you both settled in; your arms obviously couldn’t wrap fully around him, but you’d still try to get as much of his body in your embrace as you could manage to. 
And every morning, when you’d sit up in his lap and look down at him, his heart would always stutter, his already incredibly warm body growing hotter. Your sweet smile, your softly spoken “good morning”s, the way your lightly tousled hair beautifully framed your face– all of it affected him in ways he never imagined would happen to him.
Changbin knew of such feelings conceptually– he’s read more than his fair share of novels featuring romantic subplots within the library. But he always thought such experiences and sentiments would be out of reach for him; he was the only one of his kind in the forest, and normal humans feared him too greatly to build a bond with him.
Even you feared him at first, and while he hoped that it wouldn’t always be that way, he wouldn’t have been surprised if you never grew to like him. He was so, so happy when, in only a short time, you were no longer scared of him. He was even happier when you showed him kindness. He was happier still when he realized you considered him a friend. Having a companion after so many years of loneliness was more valuable to him than words could express.
In some ways, he supposes falling in love with you was natural. How couldn’t he fall in love with the first person to ever see him for who he was past his appearance? The first person who told him they liked his appearance. He didn’t believe you the first time you said it– how could he? All he’d ever known before from humans was fear and scorn.
He didn’t know how to accept it, always left in disbelief when you complimented him. But even if he didn’t quite believe it, he still liked hearing it. He liked it when you called him cute, or said he looked handsome, or kissed his cheek after calling him sweet.
He liked when you smiled at him, and the way you’d try to hold his hand despite how much smaller yours were than his. He liked listening to you talk, whether it was because you were reading a book to him, or because you had a lot on your mind; he could listen to you for hours, no matter the topic.
He likes hearing about your dreams, he likes the sound of your giggle, he likes the way you twirl in your dresses. He liked it when you taught him how to dance, and how you encouraged him when his steps were initially awkward. He liked how thoughtful and good you were to him. He likes that you help him believe he truly is all the kind things you describe him as.
No, he shouldn’t say he likes those things about you– it was much more accurate to say he loves them. Changbin loves everything about you. He wants to tell you as much, but he never imagined it’d be so difficult to say; he always thought that when the characters in his books struggled to find the words, it was merely exaggeration for dramatic effect.
In reality, it actually is quite hard to speak such things aloud. Changbin is normally a very candid person, able to speak whatever he thinks freely; but when it comes to you, and the feelings he has for you, his mouth runs dry, the words lodging in his throat. And realistically, should he even say them?
He knows it's true when you compliment him, he knows that you genuinely care for him and enjoy his company. But it’s hard to believe you can love him, it’s hard not to think he’s too different from you, hard to completely shut out the memories of humans fearing him. Sometimes, he’s scared that deep down there’s a part of you that still fears him.
"Changbin? Are you asleep..?" your voice calls to him softly, breaking him from his thoughts. It honestly startled him just a little; he's so used to you already being asleep before you're brought into the room, or falling asleep quickly if you aren't. He hadn't expected your voice to break the silence. 
As is typical for your nightly arrangement, you're lying atop him with your head on his chest. It's only now that he realizes your fingers have been absentmindedly tracing his skin the entire time he was lost in thought. 
Changbin doesn't have a bed in the traditional sense– he's much too big to fit on human mattresses. Instead, he has various pillows and blankets piled together on the floor. It's surprisingly comfortable, but you always find yourself laying on him, rather than next to him on his makeshift bed. 
"I'm awake," he murmurs, trying to keep his voice as soft and low as possible, "..was thinking." You hum, and lift yourself up to look at him. The room is dark, but his lack of curtains allows you to clearly make out his features in the moonlight.
He can see you just as clearly, and it makes his heart squeeze in his chest; you're always so pretty when the moon illuminates you. 
"So was I. Made it hard to fall asleep," you reply, and Changbin eyes you curiously. He can tell by your somewhat solemn expression that something seems to be weighing on you. "There's something I've been wanting to ask you for a while now, something I can't stop thinking about," you continue. 
Changbin swallows, suddenly nervous. Given where his thoughts were just moments ago, he can't help but fear that the moment he's been dreading has finally come– this is where you ask him to take you home.
Maybe not home, as the village you grew up in is a place you don't wish to return, but away from here– away from him. Back to human society where you belong, to a place that he could never hope to follow, a place he could never live in with you.
"Wh-What.. What is it?" he asks, hesitant; he really hopes you can't tell how anxious he is, but he's certain his voice has betrayed it already. He wishes he wasn't so terrified of losing you.
Even in the dim lighting, you could clearly see the way his expression changed to one of immense trepidation. You wonder if he's nervous because he can see that you're nervous. It takes you a moment to even begin to speak again, timidly fidgeting with your fingers as you try to will your voice to return to you.
"Have you ever.. been in love..?" you ask him, voice so soft and timid that Changbin almost misses it, even with his exceptional hearing. You watch as his ears flick, his eyes widen slightly as he takes your question in, his cheeks growing ever so slightly pinker.
His surprise is to be expected– from his perspective, this question must seem incredibly out of the blue. But truthfully, it's been eating at you for weeks. You know you're in love with Changbin, but you don't know how possible it is for him to love you back. You don't know if he's ever loved anyone at all– and you have to know.
If not to give yourself hope, then to put your infatuation with him to rest once and for all. If he rejects you, living with him may be awkward for a time, but at least you could try to put an end to your hopeless pining.
Changbin blinks, unsure how to respond. If he were to answer on the basis of what his life was like before you were in it, then the answer was no– he'd never been in love. Never, in all his years, had met someone and fallen for them.
But if he were to answer for the present.. Is he in love now? Yes, he is– he's in love with you. Your eyes search his desperately, and it's clear there's an answer you're hoping to hear– but which answer is it? You chew your bottom lip nervously as you watch him consider his answer. "No, and yes," he finally responds.
"No, and yes..?" you mimic, uncertain and curious. Changbin nods, and he's thankful you're no longer laying on his chest, because you'd certainly hear the quick, erratic thumping of his heart.
"I was never in love. Not before. I.. am in love now," he says, letting out a nervous exhale as the last word leaves his lips. The implication is clear, and he watches apprehensively as your eyes widen, and the truth fully settles itself within you.
Changbin is always honest and forthright, in a way that humans typically never are. Free of societal norms and expectations, he's never had to lie about anything, nor does he feel the need to. So when he looks into your eyes, deep and vulnerable, and tells you that what he feels now is love, you believe him entirely.
"Me too," you utter softly, voice a timid whisper, "I was never in love, not before.. I am now."
Changbin sits up from his makeshift bed, quickly bringing one of his large hands to your back so that the sudden movement doesn't cause you to topple off him. He doesn't want to be lying down when he asks you if this means what he thinks it does– he wants to meet your gaze directly.
"Do you mean that? Can you really love me?" he questions, hopeful but unsure– it nearly breaks your heart that he even has to ask. If there's anything in your life that you're certain of, it's that Changbin is the best man you've ever known.
It doesn't matter that he's not entirely human, it doesn't matter that he eclipses you in size and stature, it doesn't matter that he has horns, hooves, and a tail. All that matters is how he treats you, and makes you feel; and you've never known anyone who makes you feel as warm, safe, and cared for as he does.
Sitting in his lap, you look up at him and smile, warm and affectionate. "I've never meant anything more than I mean this– I love you, Changbin."
In all his life, even at his loneliest and most isolated, in his most saddened and hurt, he'd never had the urge to cry. But now he feels it, welling from deep inside and choking him up. He's always wanted to be accepted, loved– even when it seemed impossible and entirely irrational, he wanted it.
What is it that humans do when they're filled with so much emotion for another? All his books have different answers, but there's one that sticks in his mind predominantly– they get married. And perhaps he can't marry you the way a human man can, but he can make the same vow; he can, and will, promise to love you for the rest of your lives.
You reach out to him, placing your hands on round cheeks, the heat of his blush incredibly warm on your palms. "Can I kiss you?" you ask him, and he sucks in a breath, nodding shyly. His ears pick up on the loud thumping of his quickly beating heart– he wonders if it's loud enough for you to hear it too.
You lean up as he leans down for you, both of you closing your eyes as you touch your lips softly to his. You linger there, feeling the blush on his cheeks flare with more heat as you kiss him. When you pull back, you can see his eyes sparkling with awe and adoration. Shyly, he breaks his gaze away from your eyes, darting them down to your lips; it’s easy to tell he wants to kiss you again.
With your hands still on his cheeks, you guide him back to you. You kiss him again and again, slow and gentle. Eventually, you let your hands move to his chest, and you can feel the rapid thumping of his heart beneath your fingertips. He brings one of his hands to your waist, and pulls you closer, until your tiny body is flush with his.
His lips are so plump and soft, and now that you know what they feel like against your own, you never want to stop kissing him. Unfortunately for you, your lungs are much smaller than Changbin’s, and you run out of breath very quickly, often having to be the one to pull away first.
He always watches you intently when you do, all the care and affection he has towards you pouring out of him in droves as he stares at you. But there's a new emotion written in his eyes too– desire, yearning. All you’ve done is kiss him, but he’s positively, undeniably enchanted by you, a deeply rooted need for more of your touch clawing its way to the surface.
When you kiss him again, you tentatively run your tongue across his bottom lip. The feeling jolts him, sending a shiver down his spine. He parts his lips, cautiously slipping his tongue out to run over yours, butterflies erupting in his stomach over the soft noise of approval you give him in response. 
His tongue is longer than yours, as well thick and textured– it makes you imagine what it’d feel like if you progressed further, and allowed him to run it over every inch of your body. For now, you simply open your mouth for him, letting him lick and explore; it fills you with a strange sensation unlike anything you’ve ever felt, but you love it. 
Changbin carefully scoops his hands beneath you, lifting you up so he doesn’t have to hunch down to kiss you anymore. You wrap your arms around his neck, clinging to him as closely as you can whilst your kisses continue to deepen and become more heated. He eventually grows just as breathless as you, his broad chest heaving as his thirst for you grows in intensity. 
It’s almost too much for him– the feeling of you in his hands, of you trying to press as much of your body to him as you can, of your sweet scent all over him. The need he feels for you goes beyond anything he’s ever felt, a deep innate hunger and desperation beginning to gnaw at him, clawing at his sense of reason.
He wants more of you– how much more he doesn’t know, but to simply kiss you isn’t enough. All of you, he thinks; he needs all of you in every way. He wants to feel you everywhere, to taste you everywhere, needs to experience the depths of love and intimacy with you.
He’s been trying for so long to deny how bad he wants it, so scared of scaring you off with unwanted advances– but now that he knows you feel the same as him, now that you’re kissing him like this, fevered and hungry, he can’t deny his craving for you any longer.
“Please,” Changbin whines under his breath when you next pull away, his voice the most light and airy either of you have ever heard. Anything, he’ll take anything you’re willing to give him– he just wants you, so badly he can hardly think straight anymore. It sends a wave of heat through your body, butterflies thrashing in your stomach. 
“Set me down, please?” you ask, and instantly he worries that he crossed a boundary, made you uncomfortable by wanting too much too soon. Still, he does as you ask, lowering his hands to the ground so you can reunite with the ground. He swallows nervously as he watches you step off his hands; thankfully, some of the tension he feels is eased when you shoot him your characteristically sweet, yet currently more bashful, smile.
The heat on his face flares when you break your gaze away from his face to look at his erection, fully unsheathed and visibly leaking large amounts of pre-cum. It’s thick, as is to be expected given his size, but to actually see it with your own eyes is astonishing. “Sorry,” he mumbles, embarrassed, starting to grab one of the many blankets littering the floor so he can cover himself.
You shake your head and reach for his hand, stopping him in his tracks. He slowly sets the blanket back down, both of you gazing at each other shyly as you swallow down your nerves to speak. “I want to.. Can I touch it..?” you ask, and oh, the way he throbs from the question alone. You can see it, heavy where it lies against his thighs, throbbing with desire and anticipation.
“Y-You- you want to?” he asks, very nearly sent reeling when you shyly nod your head. He’s wanted this for so long; and he tried not to, really. It felt inappropriate to want you that way, almost shameful every time he got hard with you in mind.
You always interacted with each other so sweetly, innocently– it felt perverse to lie in his makeshift bed at night and throb over the way your breasts looked pressed together in your dresses, or over the glimpses he got of your legs and thighs when you twirled around.
It wasn’t this way from the start; when he rescued you deep in the woods, he had nothing but pure intentions. He didn’t know you were beautiful, he didn’t know how soft and sweet you were, didn’t know how radiant you were in body and soul. He didn’t know he’d grow to love you, nor could he have predicted how badly he’d want you as his infatuation for you grew. 
Little does he know that you always wanted him just as bad, your late night thoughts always consumed by him. None of the village men ever made you feel the way Changbin does, never made your heart race or stomach erupt in butterflies, never filled you with such insatiable need for touch. 
“Ahh, I-” he exhales, trying to discreetly wipe away the sweat accumulating in his palms due to his nerves, “I.. yes, please, I’d like it.” Even just the thought of you touching his cock makes him feel like his heart is going to leap out of his chest– he has no idea how he’ll feel when you actually do it. Still, he wants it; and he watches you, unconsciously holding his breath as he waits for you to act.
He’s leaking so much, and it occurs to you that your dress will get very wet and messy if you leave it on while you touch him. The thought of being naked in front of Changbin makes you nervous, but also excites you somehow; and technically speaking, he’s always naked in front of you– apart from the cape he wears during the day, anyways. So there’s no reason to be so shy about it, right?
You gaze up at him, still timid despite the pep talk you’re giving yourself internally, and you reach behind your back to untie the ribbons that keep your silk gown on your body. You can hear Changbin’s breath hitch as the fabric loosens and begins to fall away, your bare torso becoming visible to his eyes for the first time. 
Your breasts were so pretty, so full– and yet even then, they’d surely look small in his large hands. Still, you weren’t done revealing yourself to him just yet; reaching lower down your back, you loosen another ribbon– the one keeping it held around your waist. Your gown falls down your hips and to the floor once untied, now left only in your panties before his eyes. 
Fuck, he wants to touch you– but you asked him first, and he’s not going to interrupt whatever you have planned for him. You step closer to him, and climb up his leg to sit yourself on one of his large thighs. He can’t help but gasp when you bring your hands to his cock, and just as you thought it’d be from seeing it, it’s heavy.
It’s much too thick to wrap your fingers around, your hands appearing impossibly small in comparison. You rub your hands over his sensitive tip, glancing up at Changbin’s face when he lets out a whine. Your hands quickly become slick from the steadily leaking pre-cum, gliding easily up and down the length of his cock. There’s not as much friction as there’d be if it was Changbin’s own hand, but he prefers this despite it– having you touch him is much, much better.
He moans when you lean forward to kiss and lick the tip, his pre-cum smearing over your lips and cheeks. He fists the blankets below him, his breaths growing harsher as he watches you work him up. Your hands stroke his length in a steady rhythm while you continue to lavish his tip with attention using your mouth, and he can’t help the frequency of his whines and moans.
He already feels so close– you're so soft, so wet, it drives him crazy. When you stop kissing and licking his cock, you sit up to look back up at him, and God, the sight of you– you’re glistening with his pre-cum and your own saliva. It’s dripped down your chin, falling to your breasts and the sight proves too much for him– he whimpers, stuttering out your name as his cock twitches and spurts of thick cum begin to shoot from the tip.
You make a noise of surprise, watching in awe as it coats your bodies; his stomach, your whole torso, your hands– you wouldn’t be surprised if some ended up on the blankets beneath him too. Your stomach flips when he finally comes down from his high and looks at you. Reddened cheeks, flushed body, harsh breaths– and yet he still gazes at you hungrily.
“Your turn,” he breathes as he effortlessly scoops you into his hands, paying no mind to the mess that covers you. His carnal desire for you is fraying at him, his shyness becoming increasingly eclipsed by his need. “Can I-” he starts, lifting you up towards his face, “Is it okay? Can I do the same for you? Please?”
He’s sure you can feel how much his hands are trembling for you– he hasn’t even seen between your legs yet, hasn’t yet tasted you, but his mind already feels like it’s in a frenzy. “Yes, please,” you tell him with a nod, and he brings you closer, responding with an appreciative, hungry kiss. He licks away the mess left there, then swipes his tongue over your torso, not at all minding the taste of his own cum.
You squirm in his hands, and when he’s done, he gently nudges you with his nose, urging you to lay back. Your back meets his fingers, your butt cradled in his palms while your legs dangle over his wrists. “Can you take them off like this?” he asks, and you nod, letting out a nervous exhale as you bring your hands to your sides, and hook the hem of your panties in your fingers.
You know Changbin would never drop you or let you fall, but you’re still careful not to make big movements as you slide them down your thighs, and then lift your legs to pull them off. You toss them aside, and shyly spread your legs open for him to look at your dripping pussy. You smell so sweet– he imagines that you’ll taste even sweeter. 
You shiver when he starts by placing kisses between your thighs, your legs spreading further apart to accommodate him. He sticks out his tongue, and the whine you let you when he licks between your folds is intoxicating. His tongue is too big to focus only on your clit, but the sensation of him licking up and down is still utterly delicious.
He moans and hums as he devours you, and the vibration of it makes you tremble. You let out a loud whimper and your eyes roll back when he dips his tongue carefully into your hole. It reaches deeper than your fingers ever could, feels so much better than them too– you never imagined something could feel this good. 
Your nails dig into his palms, but Changbin pays no mind to it, continuing to alternate between dipping his tongue into your hole and licking you up from top to bottom. He can feel your body tensing, the shaking of your legs and twitching of your thighs growing more intense as he drives you closer to release. 
You cry his name over and over, the syllables broken between whimpers as your back arches and your cum gushes on to his tongue. He licks it up and swallows it eagerly, and it serves to effectively draw out your orgasm, the sounds you make easily the prettiest he’s ever heard. 
You collapse back against his fingers when your high ebbs away, and you feel positively euphoric, every inch of your body buzzing from the pleasure. Changbin waits until you catch your breath again to kiss you, and you bring your hands to his face, holding him close as he shares the taste of your release with you. 
He carefully adjusts his hold of you afterwards, cradling you in his arms and laying you against his chest as he rises from his floor bed. “Need to take a bath,” he mumbles to you as you instinctively curl into his embrace. He cringes when he thinks about how much effort it’ll take to clean the mess from his fur and sheath, but he wouldn’t have done anything differently; the night was perfect– you were perfect.
You’re exhausted, but you do your best to help him get clean once you’re done washing yourself, and he covers you with appreciative kisses when the task is done. You giggle from the attention, and Changbin giggles too before he scoops you back into his arms to carry you to bed.
Doing away with the soiled blankets he’ll leave to clean tomorrow, he replaces them with some from the many empty rooms littered about. You’d fallen asleep shortly exiting the bath, and it was a bit challenging for Changbin to fix the bed one handed, but he wasn’t going to set you down onto the cold floor– and you surely would’ve pouted if you woke up without him in reach. 
He heaves a heavy sigh once he finally lays down, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before he rests his own against the many pillows beneath him. He whispers that he loves you before he closes his eyes, and he guesses you were just awake enough to hear it, because you sleepily whisper it back. 
It makes him smile, and he squeezes you in his arms just a little. And as he drifts to sleep, he thinks about how lucky he is to have you, how wonderful it is to be loved, how happy he’ll be spending every moment in his life together with you.
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network tags: @ksmutsociety @skzstarnet
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your-nanas-house · 11 months ago
Note
I have an idea for a smutty dark/Dom Tommy fic if you're open to writing it! I'm not sure on a plot but involing him wearing and keeping on his leather gloves, thank you in advance!!!
Yessssss, love it. Thank you so much! ❤️❤️❤️❤️
Not a virgin anymore
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(credits to the owner of the gif)
◇ Pairing: Dark!Tommy Shelby X Finn's girlfriend!Reader
◇ Warnings: smut, age gap (both off age), fingering, dry humping, mean Tommy
◇ Summary: Tommy checks if Finn's girl is as pure as he claims.
◇ Note: Sorry if it took me so long. A huge thank you to @mrkdvidal1989 that helped me so much, you helped me so much with my mood and the writing of this. Thank you 😭 Also It's pretty much a collab.
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“I think I wanna marry her” Finn informed his brothers without being able to hold back a bright grin, his eyes scanning them as he waited for a reply, any advice or.. a comment of any kind at least.
He knew that he was quite young to think about marriage, since he hit adulthood just two years before, but the emotions he felt for this young woman were true.
As no one opened their mouths to say something, just continuing to glance at each other, Finn spoke up again ”I fookin’ love her” his mood still so eager and happy.. like a puppy in love.
Still nothing, everyone was mostly waiting for Thomas to say something, but the older man kept staring blankly at his younger brother, seated on his armchair.. legs open and arms resting there, supporting his head and cigarette as if he was lost in thoughts.
“Nothing to say?” Finn asked, getting impatient, his eyes glancing between the older ones, Tommy and Arthur.
As the youngest brother got clearly frustrated, Arthur cleared his throat.
“Hmm… you fookin’ know her for how long, eh? Nearly six months?” he reminded his brother, mocking him before being interrupted quickly
 “SO? When John married he didn’t even know Esme’s damn name!” Finn quickly pointed out, already getting riled up by the situation. 
Fin always did that. Hating how his brothers treated him because of the age difference, completely oblivious to the fact that he… was acting very childish too often for Tommy to see him as an equal to John or Arthur. 
His poorly thought-out decisions and lack of discipline when it came to listening to orders of his older brothers were playing a huge part in how Thomas viewed him. 
”Have you thought about the responsibilities that come with becoming a Shelby, Fin? Have you already introduced them to your chosen one? Risk Our ways and how we deal with things?.. Have you thought about that? Huh?” He pressed, leaning forward as his patience ran short with how snappy Fin was. Lack of respect was just another thing he despised in his younger brother.
”I-I…” The young man stammered out, looking for any line to defend himself.. unsuccessfully, making Thomas scoff while putting out his cigarette into an ashtray. 
”What’s her name again?...” He rasped out, his now free hand tapping impatiently against the fabric of the armchair, his cold gaze piercing his brother's face without a hint of any positive emotions.
“Y/n..Y/n Y/l/n” Finn replied in a murmur, his older brother’s comments affecting him more than he wished they would. 
The name kept repeating in Thomas’ head, before a cocky amused smirk cracked his serious expression.
“Now I get why yer want to marry her” he chuckled bitterly leaning forward, face to face with Finn. 
“She’s as good as her mother, eh?” he asked mockingly, pouring himself a glass of whiskey “You don’t marry whores, you just tame them, Finn. Am I right?” he asked his other two brothers with amusement in his voice, not really expecting an answer.
His mischievous mood changed quickly as Finn suddenly got up from his seat.
“She’s not!.. She’s not like her mother.. She's a good girl, goes to church, helps around and works in the local bakery." The youngest Peaky Blinder informed them, narrowing his eyes at Tommy’s reaction. Watching with a clenched jaw as the older man hummed mockingly, gulping fast down the strong drink before he spoke again, not changing his attitude.
 “A good girl, huh… I bet”, making the other laugh at Finn as well.
“It’s true! You… I’ll make you fookin’ meet her”
.
It took him just a couple of days to organise a meeting between them, inviting them all to her house. It was a pretty cosy, little, modest house settled in Small Heath. Nothing fancy but it was visible that the people living there were doing their very best to keep it nice. 
The male part of the family of Shelby's stood on the porch on the agreed day and time. 
Their expensive suits looking odd contrasting with the domestic and homey look of the building and little wooden decorations standing in the garden. 
Finn was smiling, standing at the forefront of the group while Arthur and John kept joking back and forth, in front of Tommy, whose face remained serious and uninterested as he waited. 
After knocking on the door, they didn't have to wait long before an old woman, probably in her 60s, appeared in the doorway. A friendly smile lingering on her wrinkled face that looked great accompanied by the dark pink dress she wore.
”Good morning, Mister” She spoke up seeing Finn, earning a polite smile from him. They clearly had met each other previously, so she wasn't very alarmed by the sight of four men in suits standing at the door. “Good morning, nana” Finn greeted, removing his hat for respect, cleaning his shoes before entering the familiar house, heading directly towards the living room. 
John was the next to enter the house, along with Arthur, a smirk still on his face due to the jokes they were sharing previously 
“Good morning, na— Mrs. Y/l/n” he corrected himself quickly as Arthur slapped the back of his head “Be fookin’ polite” he murmured under his breath, smiling at the older woman before kissing her hand as he bowed his head slightly “Good morning, ma’am, thank you for inviting us into your house” he stated, winking before following the direction Finn took, not noticing the weird side eye Tommy gave him as he cleaned his soles before walking in as well with the same unbothered expression. 
”Mornin’” Thomas nodded, keeping his cap on. After all he didn't come here for a tea, he had his own purpose. 
Purpose of proving Finn how wrong he was when it comes to little Y/n. 
The older woman’s eyes widened as she felt the weird, intimidating aura surrounding the middle brother. Mumbling her greeting, she quickly disappeared into the kitchen, chatting with Arthur and John as she put the kettle on the stove. 
As Finn tried to head towards the same direction, Tommy's calloused hand grabbed his shoulder roughly. Turning him to face him, he leaned to his level. The serious and business expression on his face. 
”I’m going to have a chat with your little fiancé, eh? You stay there and entertain the old woman and your brothers while I check if she is who you say she is.” he stated harshly in a fierce voice, his eyes glancing at the older woman and back at him before messing up his hair as if he was still a child. 
Ignoring completely the worried expression on his face, because Thomas was aware that Finn knew better than to ask questions. 
The younger brother stood still for a moment before nodding with a resigned expression, turning around and slowly walking away towards the kitchen. Practically leaving his girlfriend in the lion's mouth. 
It was Tommy’s first time in that house so he didn’t really know where to go, luckily for him Y/n’s soft voice led him to what it looked like a small studio. A pretty dark room, with only one window which was close, it was decorated with lots of books and a wooden desk where the young woman was standing behind, holding an old phone, busy talking with someone.
”Yes, aunty. I'll let her know” she replied with a smile, despite the fact that the person on the other side of the phone couldn't see it, her hand busy playing with the tiny golden chain with a cross. Her eyes moving from the spot she was staring at to move closer to the desk “I have to leave you now, we were supposed to have guests today.. I think they are here already” she informed her, glancing towards the door, getting startled by Tommy’s figure standing there as if he owned the place.
He didn’t say anything to interrupt her call, his gloved hands just woven together in front of him, his head tilted to the side as he watched the girl. 
“I love you too, auntie. Bye” she murmured, hanging up the call to give Tommy’s her complete attention
 “Mr Shelby— Welcome, I didn’t hear you come in…” she started, eyeing him suspiciously, her innocent girl facade. staring back at him.
“Nana doesn’t like when people wear caps inside of her house… it’s a way to show respect” she pointed out, already a bit annoyed by his attitude. Thomas chuckled hearing her words, as he adjusted the peaky cap on his head.
”Nana didn't offer me a cup of tea, which isn't really polite either, eh?” He spoke up with a hint of mockery before entering her room and closing the door behind, making sure to lock it.
“She’s probably still preparing it, we have fresh baked cookies, though.” Y/n pointed out as her expression softened. Her demeanour changed as she tried to keep her temper down. It should have been a calm day but a lot of things that set her off happened, so she wasn’t in the right state of mind to deal with Tommy fucking Shelby.
Be proper, Y/n thought just like she was always told. Plastering a small smile on her face, her eyes moving from Thomas’ face to the door and back. “They are in the living room, sir,” 
Tommy chuckled at her words, walking slowly further into her room, looking around with a grin as he hummed. 
“That's one way to decorate a girl's room, eh?” He scoffed, eyeing her suggestively, touching the colourful figurines standing on shelves. ”Definitely furnished to be a whore's own.” he casually pointed out, checking the books casually. “Guess they paid your mom good enough, huh? Family business it is, sweetheart?” the older man moved his gaze towards her standing form, smirking amused at her blank stare.
“Pardon?” she stuttered out through her utter shock, her head tilting  to the side.“You here to disrespect a dead woman, Mr Shelby? If so.. You can fucking leave!” she spat out angrily, staring blankly at him for a couple of minutes before sighing and looking away, playing nervously with her cross while she headed to the door.
“My condolences… I’m here because of the sick idea you put in my little brother’s head” Tommy spoke in an emotionless tone, reaching for a pack of cigarettes in his pocket.. Lighting one without even asking for approval.
“Finn talked about you quite a lot lately, speaking about how pure, innocent, religious… and a good girl you are. You got him quite smitten, eh?” Thomas pointed out after inhaling deeply, his hand rubbing his chin “Well… what I was wondering about was how much of this is actually true.” He murmured, meeting her gaze with a smirk as he moved closer, hand reaching for her chin. “How much of a little saint you actually are, eh? Sweetheart.” he added, blowing out the smoke in her face, his fingers digging painfully into her skin as she looked into his empty, blue eyes. 
Y/n’s eyebrows furrowed at his harsh tone, her eyes narrowing as her mouth remained shut. Struggling in his grip, she tried to free herself, unsuccessfully. 
She was losing her patience quite quickly and it wasn't something that happened frequently… but there she was, angrily standing in front of what was the most feared man of Birmingham.
“I am.. I'm.. intact, if that's your concern, Mr. Shelby” She informed him in a sarcastically pleasant tone, a hint of harsh arrogance clear as day, caused by how annoyed she was by the conversation they were having. 
Her small hands curling into fists, squeezing tightly when Tommy just nodded almost mockingly, his icy stare moving across her body slowly, carefully measuring each part of her body. Not worried about gentlemanly manners, Thomas stared, as if he was checking her out.
“Sure” he simply said, the tone of his voice intact, but the look in his blue eyes wasn't trying to hide how little he believed her. Putting out his cigarette, he threw it on the floor while keeping eye contact, showing disrespect to her words and the place she lived. Simply because he could. 
Y/n gasped at his behaviour, quickly moving towards his silhouette as she pushed her finger against his chest, threatening.
“I fucking am, fucking check if you don’t believe me.” she whispered yelled, staring in his eyes boldly as he looked down at her, not a single emotion visible on his face. Almost like he was a statue carved from stone.
Tommy’s eyebrows raised slightly, his cold stare piercing her own, before lowering down to her chest which kept heaving with her deep breaths, caused purely by the anger she felt. 
His hand moved to the edge of her dress, grabbing onto the fabric as he tried to raise it up, making Y/n realise his intention quickly and act impulsively… her hand made an impact with his cheek suddenly, throwing his face to the side slightly. Only after a second she realised what she's done, eyes widening in fear at the sight of his skin turning red.
The loud noise echoing in the room, as Tommy’s, now, dark gaze met her fearful eyes. Not a word was exchanged as his hands grabbed her roughly when she tried to escape from him, manhandling her smaller body harshly against the wooden surface of the desk. One hand kept her body flat against it, pressing painfully on the centre of her back, while his other gloved hand pulled up her dress.. revealing her white panties to him.
A hum of approval escaped his lips as he kneaded her flesh, ignoring her whimpers and pleads to stop. The view in front of him, so strangely innocent and pure, made his cock hardening in his pants, in a quite painful way. 
Lowering his icy eyes with his hand he moved her thighs apart, rubbing slowly two thick fingers against her clothed folds.
”Look at that, already wet” he cooed mockingly as he moved his fingers, spreading her wetness by using the fabric of her panties. 
His left hand digging in the flesh of her covered back, to hold her down and to keep his urges under control. It took much more self-control than he thought it would, not expecting that a girl that pretty would take interest in his inexperienced little brother.
Her eyes were tightly shut, forcing her mouth to stay closed, to make sure she wasn't making any noises. Her mind was a mess as his hands travelled down her heat, touching the places that nobody else ever saw. 
As soon as his thumb pressed on her clit, her hips involuntarily jerked forward as she bit her bottom lip, trying to muffle the sigh that so desperately tried to escape her lips.
”So needy, eh? What would your grandma think?” Thomas chuckled, feeling how her body tensed, her hands trying to reach him, and push him off, unsuccessfully.
The young woman was so focused on trying to make him stop that she didn’t notice the moment when he pulled her panties to the side, allowing the cold breeze of the room to hit her wet bare pussy. 
“No, please– sir!” she yelled in a moment of panic, Tommy’s free hand quickly covering her mouth as he toyed with her folds, opening her so that he could take a look that sent shivers down his spine. That sure was a pretty pussy, he thought while daring to move his index finger to her entrance. 
Her sweet nectar wetting his gloved hand, making it even more noticeable “Look at you, sweetheart” he cooed mockingly again, as his finger pushed slightly deeper, in need to find out the truth.
Angling it slightly to the side, with a tip of his digit he could feel the thin barrier that was in the way of her tight tunnel.
Shaking his head, he leaned towards her, his wet lips brushing against the shell of her ear.
”So innocent, aren't you? Such a small, untouched cunt.” He breathed out, the urge to fuck her becoming increasingly stronger.
Letting out a breath, he pressed his index finger inside without even warning her… just grunting quietly into her ear, as she bit down his hand because of the pain.
So tight and warm, he thought. Tommy could feel how wet she was as he moved his gloved finger against her walls, biting on his bottom lip as he kept going further.
By the way she was moving it looked like it hurt her, as if she was feeling the burning sensation. One felt by a pure woman when her cherry was about to be popped.
“I guess you were right, honey” Tommy hummed, now circling her clit with her gloved hand, his middle finger helping his index one to feel her hymen before pressing against it harshly. Leather covering his hands caused his fingers to appear even thicker, stretching her pussy out so much that they both had to fight the urge to groan at the feeling. 
Tommy's cock was fully hard at this point, leaking with precum into his underwear as his fingers explored the depths of her virgin pussy.
His eyes daring to close, so that his mind could wander in places it shouldn’t. The mere thought of his thick cock wrapped and squeezed for dear life by her pussy was driving him wild, making his finger start to thrust faster as he moved his hips against nothing, just unable to fight the fantasy that he was inside of her precious cunt.
“Fuck, that’s it, honey” he praised, moving his wrist in a quick motion, leaning closer again. His hot breath hitting her neck with each exhale. ”I knew you were a little slut.” He rasped out in a shaky voice, struggling to keep his composure while feeling her pussy clench down on his fingers like a vice. 
“Can feel your filthy cunt squeezing my fingers. Yer fookin’ close, aren’t ye?” he growled in a low tone, parroting back mockingly her noises of pleasure. 
Y/n cried out at the humiliation and the overwhelming feeling in her lower belly. Despite her desperate attempts to not give into it, she couldn't fight it as he kept fucking her with his thick, gloved fingers.
”Give it to me. Stop fighting it.” He commanded through his teeth, as he felt his cock throbbing impatiently in his pants, demanding attention. 
”N-no!” She pleaded quietly, trying her best to suppress the tension that pushed her on the edge of her first orgasm. Breathing deeply, she caught his wrist, trying to stop him, but Tommy just laughed quietly. 
”There you go” He whispered, leaving a small kiss on her temple before shoving his fingers knuckle deep, fucking her with hard and quick strokes, curling his fingers up to hit her g spot with each thrust. 
His other hand was clamped over her mouth, which she ended up biting as he made her cum so hard, that just a couple seconds into the orgasm, her body shook and vision went blurry as her juices shot out on his hand, wetting his glove when she squirted for the very first time in her life. 
Y/n’s eyes rolled in the back of her head as she trembled, muscles relaxing as the feeling got… way too much. She was too long gone in her pleasure to notice at first the sound of his belt clicking open, the zip of his pants being pulled down with the fabric, so that his cock was finally free. 
After licking his gloves from her wetness, he grabbed a hold of her hips, pressing his rock hard cock against her flesh, hsi eyes fluttering shut when he started to move his hips. Grinding at an animalistic pace, his main goal his own pleasure.
He needed to rub his cock, keeping it squeezed tightly between their bodies, for a couple of minutes to finally shoot his load on her lower back.
As they both breathed heavily, he moved carefully away from her, gathering his cum with his hand to shove it in her mouth before fixing his suit and walking out of the room without a word.
He walked followed with the same powerful aura, at a fast pace towards the front door 
“Let’s go” Thomas ordered his brothers while walking to the front door, patting Finn’s shoulder with a serious expression 
“She’s not a virgin… anymore” he informed him as he stole a cookie and walked out, nodding at the old lady with a crooked grin. 
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Taglist:
@gabile18 , @mrsfullbuster500 , @rex-ray , @elizamalfoyy, @eovjjj @wife-of-magic-monkeys , @jeremiah-va1eska , @gothamchic16, @rabbiteggz , @dieg0brandos-wife , @rottenecstasy , @lazyexcuse , @teh-vampire-bunny , @lobotomy-lover , @slasher-smasher, @sleepycreativewriter, @mrkdvidal1989
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honeekyuu · 5 months ago
Text
photo booth strip. [kageyama tobio x f!reader]
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>>Kageyama makes you smile that first day in the sandbox, and he spends the rest of his life learning what it means to make you happy.
or
You ask Kageyama to marry you, and he says yes, but you both realize over the years that it's just not that simple.<<
____________________________
tags: smut, fluff, angst, childhood best friends to lovers, childhood marriage agreement, sandbox confessions, emotionally stunted kageyama, hinata is too smart for his own good, younger yachi, lessons in growing up, college age kageyama, penetrative sex, first time
a/n: everything about kageyama in this fic makes me want to put him right in my pocket. enjoy!
[feel free to buy me a cup of coffee!]
------------------
Will you be my prince?”
The first words you ever speak to Kageyama Tobio, in the middle of the sandbox at the neighborhood park.
“I think we should get married.”
The last words you say to him, that same day, as your parents are warning you that it’s time to head home.
You’re wearing a princess costume, holding a plastic fairy wand.
He’s holding a volleyball, the crown you’d placed on his head an hour ago now lopsided.
“ Okay .” 
His response, both times. Nothing more, nothing less.
It’s enough to make you smile. Both times.
He doesn’t smile back. He doesn’t know why you’re so happy.
Only when he sees you the next day, waiting in the sandbox for him, does he realize that he doesn’t know your name.
You’re a year younger than him. He learns this for the first time when he mentions the elementary school he goes to, almost a week after you meet.
You tell him that you’ll be going there once the summer’s over.
He thinks nothing of it, not until he hears someone calling his name on the first day. He turns, surprised, because he doesn’t really talk to his classmates.
And then he realizes it’s the girl from the park.
You run up to him excitedly and reach for his hand. He lets you take it.
“Can I see you at lunch? Will you come find me?”
He doesn’t think that’s how it works. His teacher always lines them up and they eat lunch in a circle, out in the courtyard.
“Okay.”
He wonders if it hurts when you smile that wide.
By lunch, you’ve forgotten about his promise. You’re meeting so many new people and making friends, and your teacher is a nice lady who lines you all up and leads you down to the courtyard to eat lunch. 
You’re in the hallway, waiting for the line to move outside, when you hear the tapping of a finger on a window. You turn, finding Kageyama inside his classroom, standing on his tiptoes and tapping gently on the glass for your attention. His face is blank even when he waves.
That’s the first time you properly fall for Kageyama Tobio. Because he’d remembered, even when you hadn’t.
On your first day of middle school, you hover nervously around your classroom door. You check and re-check that you have everything in your bag, if only to have a reason to look busy.
This place is a lot bigger than your last school, and you haven’t been able to find your friends yet. Not everyone from your elementary school class would be here, so you’re desperate to find the few familiar faces that will.
You hear his voice in the stairwell, just beside your classroom. He sounds irritated, that harsh edge easy to identify. You peek around the corner, finding him on the stairs. He’s berating someone, telling them they need to give more energy during practice.
“Kageyama!” You stand at the top of the stairs, clutching your bag and beaming down at him. You’re filled with relief, because at least you’d found him .
He and his teammate turn, and you can’t help but think the boy next to him resembles a turnip.
“Oh. Y/n. You made it.” Tobio’s face is blank as always, but he’d lost the edge in his voice. You giggle, skipping down the steps to meet him, and cling to his arm once you’re within reach. The unfamiliar boy watches you with wide eyes.
“Don’t tell me you have a girlfriend , Kageyama.” He stares down at your linked arms and then meets Kageyama’s eyes, dumbfounded. “There’s no way the King got himself a girl.”
You scrunch your brows together. King ? Tobio had never mentioned a nickname like that.
From the way his arm tenses under your hand, you realize that it’s one he doesn’t like very much. 
He takes the volleyball that’s in his other hand and shoves it into Turnip Boy’s chest.
“Focus on what’s important, Kindaichi. Learn to meet my sets before I find someone else.”
You’d heard him talk like that before – his tunnel vision when it comes to the sport had gotten him into trouble a few times in elementary school, too.
The boy leaves with a huff, and Kageyama turns to face you. His arm slips out of your grasp, but he says nothing when you just reach for his hand.
“Do you have practice today?”
He tilts his head.
“I have practice every day.”
You nod, expecting that. “Can we eat lunch together?” You’re not sure if he has other second-year friends that he hangs out with. But he just shrugs, putting his free hand on your elbow and moving you out of the way of a group of girls coming up the stairs.
“Okay.”
You hear your name being called, and you realize one of the girls is a friend from your last school. She giggles when she sees Kageyama and teases you.
“Oh, it’s your husband!”
He says nothing about it, watching you blush and brush your hair behind your ear. He doesn’t understand why you get so shy. You’re the one who had spent all of elementary school telling anyone who would listen that you would marry him one day.
The other girls who don’t know you yet become curious, whispering to each other when your friend says that. Your ears turn pink, and you glance at him nervously. He just blinks at you, because you’re snatching your hand out of his like you weren’t the one who’d grabbed it.
The girls disappear around the corner, and you look at him with a crease in your brow.
“I wasn’t sure if you’d want me to tell anyone here. It’s probably embarrassing.” You’re in middle school now. It’s harder to talk about your crush so openly, and he might not want that kind of attention.
But he just glances at the spot where those girls had been and then meets your eyes.
“But they already know.”
You look him over, your face flushed.
“So… I can… talk about it?”
He shrugs. “Okay.”
He’s not really sure why you squeal and throw your arms around his neck in a hug. He’s just glad he doesn’t lose his balance on the stairs.
By the end of the day, even his own classmates are teasing him about you. He’s too busy reviewing videos from his last practice to care.
Both of your families know that you plan to marry him. His sister bullies him anytime he doesn’t greet you with a hug, saying he’s going to be a bad husband. Your mom calls him ‘ Son-in-law ’, and he’d decided early on to call her ‘ Mom ’, because that had seemed like the logical response at the time.
Both of your dads often try to help him practice out in your backyard, even though his sister’s the only other volleyball player and, frankly, your father never really got a grasp on the rules.
Your mother starts teaching you how to cook after you beg her to let you make a bento for Kageyama’s lunch, and your father only knocks you affectionately on the head with his newspaper when he finds you drawing hearts around Tobio’s name in your notebook instead of finishing your math homework.
Your friends don’t complain when you disappear up to the roof every day for lunch, because that’s your only real alone time with him. And by the time you graduate middle school and secure your enrollment at Karasuno, Kageyama’s waking up every day to the 20+ texts you’d send him every night while he’s sleeping.
Half of them are about wedding planning, which you both know is way too far in the future, but you have fun dreaming about the perfect wedding and he only really shuts down your ideas when you say something absurd.
What do you think about having goats bring our rings down the aisle?
Where are we going to get goats?
Oh… You’re right.
And wouldn’t the goats eat the rings?
Oh. That’s true too.
And how are we going to get the rings to balance on the goats?
Okay, I get it!
You’re not oblivious. You know that Kageyama has no interest in wedding planning. He only thinks about volleyball, and he lets you do whatever you want – not because he wants you to have everything your heart desires, but because he simply doesn’t care .
But he’s a man of few words, and he’s also quite literally incapable of lying for someone else’s sake. So if he continues to accept you and your fairytale daydreams, then you’ll continue to see him as your prince.
The first time you meet the Karasuno Volleyball Club, it’s with a shy bow and Kageyama’s bento hiding half of your embarrassed face. 
It’s your second week of high school, and there is an entire volleyball team of boys staring you dead in the eye in shock.
You skirt around the edge of the court toward Tobio’s bag. He’d mentioned a lunchtime practice, and you’d just wanted to drop this off so he could eat when he had time. He hasn’t noticed you yet, and you don’t mind, because this is one thing you’d rather not distract him from.
You don’t mind being second only to volleyball.
You set the lunchbox down and turn to sneak out of the gym, but there’s a boy with orange hair in your face.
“Who are you? Why are you bringing Kageyama his lunch?” His voice carries, catching the attention of everyone in the room, including Tobio.
“O-Oh, sorry, I’m just–” You fumble for your words, trying to duck around this shockingly agile shorty.
“Y/n.” Kageyama’s calling from the court, and you feel embarrassed that you’d interrupted him. He shows no irritation about it, though, his face blank as ever.
“ Sorry …” You whisper, as if you’re trying to avoid detection. As if you don’t have everyone’s eyes on you. 
You manage to dodge the small boy and make a run for it, calling back to him while you race for the door. “Make sure you eat everything and drink lots of water– Okay, bye !”
You fly off the steps of the gym and round the corner, slamming your back against the wall outside so you can catch your breath. Your head is just under the window, which is propped open. You hear his teammates grilling him as he approaches the side of the court for the bento.
“ Is that your girlfriend?! She made you lunch! ” It’s the small boy’s voice. 
You hear the rattle of chopsticks as he unpacks the containers and pops them open. His mouth is full of food when he responds, and he’s deadpan as always, not an ounce of emotion in his voice, but–
“That’s Y/n. Be nice to her. We’re going to get married.”
–that’s the first time he says it.
You fall for him all over again.
You’re a second year when Kageyama Tobio asks you out.
He’s napping at his desk at the beginning of the day, exhausted from morning practice. His phone keeps buzzing in his bag, the usual stream of texts from you, but he’s honestly too tired to even notice.
Hinata slams down into the seat in front of him, and Kageyama cracks his eyes open in annoyance. Yamaguchi and Tsukishima aren’t far behind, their own desks beside his.
“Could you be a little less annoying?”
Hinata just stares down at him with narrowed eyes.
“Hey, Kageyama.” 
Tobio puts his forehead back on his desk with a grunt of acknowledgement.
“How far have you and Y/n gone?”
He hears Tsukishima choke on his drink, and Yamaguchi’s scolding Hinata under his breath.
“You can’t just ask him that-”
“What do you mean?” Kageyama lifts his head, staring straight at his friend. “How far we’ve gone – what does that mean?”
Even Yamaguchi stares at him in disbelief now.
“What are you talking about?” Tsukki’s voice is judgmental as always. “He’s asking what you and your girlfriend have done together. You know…” He waits for Kageyama to get it, but it never clicks.
Tobio just looks at each of them blankly. “Y/n isn’t my girlfriend.”
He wonders if the bugs outside are buzzing louder than normal, or if it’s just really quiet in the room right now.
“But…” Yamaguchi scratches his cheek. “Did you guys decide to not get married after all?”
Kageyama tilts his head. “No…? We still are.”
The freckled boy stares back. “Then wouldn’t you have to date first?”
“Date?”
“Oh, my God-” Tsukishima leans his elbows on his desk and buries his face in his hands. Hinata grabs the front of Kageyama’s uniform roughly.
“Dude. Don’t tell me you never asked her out.” When Tobio just glares at the grip Hinata has on him, his friend gawks at him. “You have to date first, Kageyama! What if she’s been waiting all this time for you to ask her?!”
“ I think there’s something wrong with her .” Tsukishima’s voice is muffled. “ How could she possibly still be set on this guy? ”
Kageyama looks around at his friends as their classmates finally start to file into the room for the day. They all just sigh in frustration, as if this were something he should have known already.
Oh.
He reaches into his bag for his phone. He starts to type out a message, but Yamaguchi snatches the thing out of his hands. He looks appalled.
“You can’t ask her over text , Tobio.” 
Tsukishima just laughs and shakes his head. Kageyama ignores him.
“Well, how do I-”
“You ask her in person.”
Oh.
He waits until lunch, when you appear at the door to the third-year classroom. He follows you upstairs to the roof, and then he lets you excitedly explain the lunch you’d made him. He eats in silence, listening to you ramble about your classmates and the fact that your teacher had told you to start thinking about college.
“-think that maybe I should start looking at majors–”
“Hey. Y/n.”
You pause, surprised at his interruption. He’s staring down at his lunch, poking around with his chopsticks. Does he not like the food?
“What’s wro-”
“Do you want to be my girlfriend?”
You don’t think you heard him correctly.
“What…?”
His ears turn red. He knows this moment is important, but he doesn’t know how to make it go smoother.
“Uh-” He pokes at a piece of rice. “The guys said that I-That we need to date before we get married. They said I should have asked you sooner, but I didn’t know that I was supposed to-”
“O-Oh, that’s okay!” You flap your hands at him frantically. “It’s okay, I wasn’t waiting or anything!” To be honest, you hadn’t thought this moment through at all. You’d known that you would date eventually, but you thought it would happen later. Or maybe that you’d skip that part entirely and just plan the wedding after college.
You never thought that he’d…
Is the day suddenly warmer than it was before? Did the sun come out? 
You fan yourself, pressing your cold drink to the side of your face. Dating Kageyama Tobio is… not something you considered, even after all this time.
“Hey.”
You meet his eyes, flushing when you see how nervous he is.
If even he’s nervous, then…
“You never answered me.”
You swallow.
“O-Okay.” He watches you carefully, and you can feel it even when you look away in embarrassment. “Sure… Let’s date.”
“What’s the difference between dating and what we were doing before?” Kageyama’s twirling his pencil around his fingers, trying and failing to focus on his homework. It’s just too boring.
You’re across from him, almost done with your own work. You’re sitting at the table in your room, just a couple days after he asks you out. In that time, nothing’s really changed.
You flush, trying to think of what to say.
“Uh… I’m not sure. I think we just go on dates…? Hold hands and… stuff…?” You don’t want to give him more information than that.
He yawns, reaching for his phone. “Okay. Let’s go on a date, then.” 
You lean forward to see what he’s doing, and you watch him type ‘ places to date’ into his search engine. You giggle to yourself and then gasp, because the local movie theater had popped up in the results.
“Ooh, a movie!”
He says nothing, clicking on the website and scrolling through the showings silently. You point to one that’s just come out.
“The trailer for that looks interesting. You might like it.”
He buys tickets without even thinking about it.
You wonder if he even wants to see it. But he doesn’t say otherwise, and he’s already paid, so you’re not sure what would change if you asked.
When he picks you up the next morning, leaning his body lazily over the fence of your house and tapping obnoxiously at the small bell that hangs from the metal bar like he always does, you’re stunned to find that he’s dressed well.
He looks effortlessly pretty, his sweater well-suited to the pair of jeans he has on – you didn’t even know he owned clothes outside of his sweats and his uniform.
You stop short just outside your door, taken aback by how good he looks. You watch his eyes trail down the length of your body, analyzing your dress, your hair, and your jewelry. You’d spent far too long deciding on it all, and your mom is currently standing behind you with a camera, squealing as she takes pictures of the two of you.
But Kageyama says nothing, about any of it. He just keeps his eyes on you as you approach the fence.
“Hi… You look nice.” You mumble the words, trying to keep your blush in check.
“Thanks…” He trails off, looking like he wants to say something else. But he doesn’t, only straightening and waiting for you to join him on the sidewalk. And then he waves blankly at your mom, his hand finding yours as you start to walk away. He gives you a simple response when you look up at him in surprise.
“What? You said we were supposed to hold hands.”
You stare down at your shoes the entire walk to the theater, your face painfully warm. 
He buys you a large popcorn and drink to share, and you sit in the crowded theater with the bucket in your lap, grateful that it’s dark. You smoothe out your dress and tuck your hair behind your ear, trying not to ruin your outfit.
He takes your hand again once the movie starts, his voice low when he mumbles something to you.
“You look nice, too.”
You don’t really know what the movie ends up being about. Your heart is beating in your ears the whole time.
“Hey, Kageyama. How far have you and Y/n gone?”
Kageyama glares up at Hinata through his lashes. “Why do you always ask me that?”
“Because you’re a case study in idiocy.” Tsukishima flips another page of his magazine, his back against the frame of Yamaguchi’s bed. He’s not really reading it. He just likes to roll it up and smack Hinata over the head with it when he gets distracted from his studies.
Yamaguchi pushes gently at Tsukki’s arm without looking, just writing down another answer on his worksheet as he studies at the table with Hinata and Kageyama. “Leave him be. He’s doing his best.”
Kageyama wonders if the flush to Tsukishima’s cheeks is because he’d been scolded or because it was Yamaguchi.
He texts Hinata about it discreetly.
Does Tsukishima like Yamaguchi?
And then he stills when he watches the way his best friend’s eyes flit to the screen when it lights up and then up at him like he’s stupid. Hinata never takes his deadpan stare off of him, not even as he’s reaching for the phone and typing out a response.
They’ve been dating since first year.
Oh.
Kageyama purses his lips and puts his phone down. That’s enough meddling for one day.
It buzzes again a second later.
Answer my question, Dipshit.
Kageyama scowls.
I don’t know what you want me to tell you.
You’ve been dating for six months. What’s happened?
He furrows a brow.
We go on a date every week.
Hinata looks impressed.
You hold hands?
Yeah.
Kiss?
Kageyama blinks.
Kiss what?
Hinata no longer looks impressed. He meets Kageyama’s eyes again, that deadpan starting to get on Tobio’s nerves. And then he reaches across the table to show his phone to Tsukishima without a word. Kageyama watches Tsukki’s eyes dart down the length of the conversation.
And then he’s slapping his magazine shut and rolling it up. Kageyama doesn’t have time to avoid the harsh smack to the top of his head. 
He barely gets his arms up and over his head in time to block another well-aimed swing.
“What the fuck!”
“You haven’t kissed her yet ?” Tsukishima smacks him again, and then once more, because he’s properly tired of Kageyama Tobio. And then he leans back against Yamaguchi, sighing through his nose. “I feel so bad for her, I’m considering dating her myself.”
“Hey!” It’s Yamaguchi, his pout obnoxious.
Kageyama really wonders how he hadn’t noticed their relationship before this.
Tsukishima pinches the bridge of his nose. “Someone please teach Kageyama how to be a boyfriend with feelings. I don’t have the time.”
Hinata snorts. “I don’t think we’d ask you for the time, anyway.” He doesn’t even bother avoiding the magazine smack to the side of his face. He deserved it.
Yamaguchi reaches into his bag for his laptop, nudging his boyfriend with a knee. “Go make snacks. I’ll find movies.”
Tsukki says nothing, just ruffling Yamaguchi’s hair as he stands and steps over him.
Surely, they didn’t always do things like that. Kageyama would have noticed… right?
He shakes his head, watching Yamaguchi set up his laptop at a distance where they can all see the screen. He doesn’t know what’s happening, but at least he doesn’t have to do his homework.
His friends keep him trapped in Yamaguchi’s room for the next six hours, forcing him to watch rom-coms and yelling ‘ Do that! ’ every time they see a romantic gesture, because they know Kageyama won’t think twice about it otherwise.
“Hey. Y/n.” He’s standing at the door to your classroom, just after 6pm on a Thursday. The sun is starting to set, but you’re both still here.
The volleyball season had ended a few weeks ago, his last time playing for Karasuno there and gone before he’d realized it. But he and Hinata had been scouted by the same school in Tokyo, so they use the now-empty gym to practice almost every day.
You’d waited for him after your student council meeting, filling out homework with a speed that he’d always envied just a little bit. You’re brighter than you realize, especially with numbers. 
He hadn’t noticed until last year, when you’d gone for fun with them to Tokyo for the annual summer training camp and met Kuroo. You’d gotten on extremely well with him, and Kageyama had watched you two talk about chemistry and math as if they were exciting TV shows he’d never heard of.
Kuroo had gotten him alone soon after, mentioning to him that Tokyo had one of the best STEM programs in the country. He hadn’t realized what the Nekoma captain had meant at the time – not until he’d first been contacted by the university and had started, unknowingly, thinking that it would be nice to keep going to school with you after graduation.
“Oh, Kags!” You finish writing something with a smile and then start packing up. “I have a packet due next week, so I wanted to finish it before you were done practicing.”
He wouldn’t have started that packet until the night before.
He watches you skip up to him, in a rush even though you’re the only two people here. You walk down the hall together, and you peer up at him while you ask him about his day.
“Did you eat well? Sorry that I couldn’t see you for lunch – my class president wanted to talk about…” You talk excitedly, and he stops listening just as you’re approaching the top of the stairs.
There’s no one around right now, just noise drifting through the open window on the first landing of the stairs �� the soccer team, running laps outside. It’s almost March. The frost is finally melting off of the grass. He’ll be graduating soon.
His mind drifts to what Hinata told him as they were parting ways, not even fifteen minutes ago.
‘Don’t make her wait much longer.’
Have you been waiting? Have you been expecting him to make a move on you? It had been a week since the forced movie night, but you haven’t given him any of the so-called signs he’d been made to notice in those scenes. 
No lingering close to him, no biting your lip and looking up at him wistfully.
He’s starting to think the movies were being dramatic.
Do you even want him to kiss you?
“-yama… Kags?” 
He stops at the landing, just in front of the window. He turns, realizing you’d stopped halfway down the stairs, just examining him with lifted eyebrows. You look mildly concerned, a soft smile tugging at your lips when he mumbles ‘ Huh? ’, and you move to join him.
“Are you okay?” Your eyes flit around his face. “Are you worried about training?”
No. He’s not.
For once, he’s not.
“Yeah. I guess.”
Does he want to kiss you? 
He’s not sure. He enjoys your weekly dates – movie and cafe dates, and one amusement park date where your photo booth shots had been so funny that he’d snorted milk out through his nose. Those photos sit in his wallet now, because he couldn’t think of anywhere else to keep them and because the fact that he’d put them there had made you oddly happy.
 And he’s realized recently that he likes the feeling of your fingers interlaced with his, hands joined and shoved into the pocket of his coat to stay warm. He likes having you close like that. And when he’d ask you to remove his finger wraps for him after practice, he likes how delicate you’d be about it, how soft your fingers were against his calloused ones.
Not to mention the strand of some unplaced emotion that would sit in his chest when his teammates would complain about him having a girlfriend. They’d whine anytime you would help him – ‘ We don’t have pretty girls who do that for us, Kageyama. Stop showing off. ’ – and he’d always feel a little weird. A little too proud that you wouldn’t do that for anyone else. A little too happy that he’s special.
Still, he has no idea about kissing. He hadn’t thought about it before last week. It had never crossed his mind. But now… he feels like he should do it. Hinata told him to. Yamaguchi and Tsukishima told him to. They were sure that you’d been waiting for him to do it.
You must have been waiting, then. They would know better than he does.
“-m sure that your drills have been going okay with Hinata, right? And you have some time still, if you wanted to fix something-” You cut short, realizing he’s stepping close to you. His face is blank, but he still looks like he’s thinking hard about something.
He steps in again, and you step back to give him some space. He follows, and soon you’re backed up against the wall on the stairs. Cold air drifts in through the window, along with the sounds of a soccer practice. 
You swallow, meeting Kageyama’s eyes nervously.
“What’s… What are you…”
He looks you over. Your nose is red from the chill, and you’re looking up at him in confusion, like you have no idea what he’s doing. He realizes that, no, you hadn’t been waiting. 
You hadn’t been expecting anything from him.
For some reason, that bothers him.
He sets his hands on your elbows, stepping close and dipping his head. You don’t have time to think, and Kageyama’s leaning in before you can bring yourself to wonder what he’s doing.
There, on that set of stairs between the first and second floor, just after 6pm on a Thursday. There are people outside, with no idea what’s happening not that far away. The sun is about to set, and the bugs are starting to come out of their winter hiding, a quiet buzz filling the air. It’s almost March. He’ll be graduating soon.
That’s the first time Kageyama Tobio kisses you.
He pulls away after a moment, tilting his head away to give you space but staying close enough that his hair gets in your eyes a little bit. You don’t remember the last time you took a breath, but it doesn’t matter, because you’ve never seen Kageyama blush before. Not like that.
You swallow hard, your skin tingling where he has his hands on your elbows. Another cold breeze drifts in, but you barely feel it. Your face is warm enough, and you think the heat radiating around you might not just be you.
Eventually, he takes a small step back, his head still ducked when he releases you. His ears are ringing, and he doesn’t like the fact that he can’t feel his fingers. And when he looks up at you through his bangs, seeing the way you’re still leaning against the wall for support as you hug your arms around yourself, he finds himself wanting to do it again. 
He wants to be close to you like that again.
It’s not the same as holding your hand. It’s worse. It’s a feeling that sits in his stomach and makes his heart pound. The same feeling of adrenaline and excitement he gets when he wins a game.
He doesn’t know what to do with this feeling.
So he doesn’t move. He just stares. You stare back. Eventually, you lift off of the wall and smile shyly, crouching to grab your bag. He hadn’t even realized you’d dropped it.
You grip the strap so hard your knuckles turn white. He clears his throat.
“I’ll walk you home.” It’s soft, but it echoes loudly in this empty stairwell.
You just nod, following him down the stairs and out the front door.
It takes him ten minutes to gather the courage to hold your hand. You don’t say a word the entire way back.
Kageyama graduates, and you become a third year preparing for college applications. Things between you somehow return to normal with little issue, although you’d been expecting some level of awkwardness.
He doesn’t kiss you again or even give you any sign that he wants to. You don’t know what to make of that, but you choose not to push it. You think that he would probably let you kiss him if you wanted to, because he lets you do anything you want. 
But the thought of kissing him when you’re not sure if he wants it or even cares about it – that makes you feel weird.
So you just don’t.
He’d moved to Tokyo in the summer to start training, and you find that, although you miss him immensely, you’re doing just fine here in Miyagi.
You talk every day, and you take the train to see him once a month, staying the weekend in his tiny dorm room and then rushing home to prepare for class on Monday.
You still text him random thoughts about wedding planning, but they’re far fewer than before. Now, you mostly just check that he’s eating and sleeping and that he’s not failing his classes. 
You let yourself be woken up when he calls at 4:30 every day because he has to be out for his morning run by 5 and he knows he won’t be able to stay awake unless he’s talking to you while he gets ready. And then you sit at your desk, studying for your entrance exams and prepping your application materials while the sun rises outside your window.
You make an extra trip to the city whenever he has a game, rushing out of school and racing for the train station like an olympic runner, because every game means the world to him and you would never dream of missing one. And every time he wins, he holds you extra tight at night, excitedly recapping the moments of the game into the crook of your neck as if you hadn’t witnessed every second with your own eyes.
It never occurs to you to tell him about your day anymore. He doesn’t ask, and you don’t think about that enough to be upset by it. His world revolves around volleyball, just like it always had. And your world – your grades, your achievements, your future – had always just been expectations you’d set for yourself. Top of the class, student council president, stellar record. They’re all normal to you. You’d worked hard for them, but you’d never found them to be novel or exciting enough to tell Kageyama.
You just… existed.
And you never realized that maybe your priorities weren’t in the right place. That maybe making Kageyama Tobio your whole personality wasn’t the way it should be. You had slowly stopped doing that, slowly eased yourself off of him, slowly started hanging out with your friends more than you used to.
Nothing could change the way you feel about him – he’s your prince. He’d always been your prince, from the day you’d met. But you’re becoming an adult with a life and a future, and you’d never thought that that was important enough to share with him. Your whole world is still him .
Until it isn’t.
“Have you told Kageyama about your midterm grades yet?” Yachi spoons food into her mouth, eyes sparkling cutely when she asks. “I bet he was so happy for you.”
You tilt your head at her. “Oh, I didn’t think to tell him.” And you don’t think you’ve ever seen him get happy about anything other than volleyball.
Your friend’s expression dampens. “You didn’t tell him? Why?”
“It never came up.”
She looks lost. “But you worked really hard for it… And you got top of the class… You didn’t mention it at all?”
You furrow a brow, pushing food around your bento.
“I guess I just didn’t think about it.”
She hums and then claps as a thought comes to her.
“What about the school festival?” 
You’re in committee meetings for that almost every day. It’s coming in the spring.
She frowns when you just shake your head blankly.
“Y/n, you haven’t told him anything? You even got sick the other day from the stress…”
“I didn’t want to bother him with it.”
She looks entirely unsatisfied. There’s silence, one where you’re eating slowly and trying to figure out what this feeling in the pit of your stomach is. And then she’s clearing her throat softly.
“Does he… ask about you? At all?”
No. He doesn’t.
You swallow. “He’s a busy guy.” 
Now Yachi just looks mad. “And you’re a busy girl! He’s your boyfriend! He should be asking!”
You laugh sheepishly. “He’s never really been that way. It doesn’t bother me.” Right?
“That’s not the point!” She frowns deeply. “What kind of guy doesn’t want to hear about his girlfriend’s day?”
The kind of guy that only asks you out because his friends told him to.
The thought hits you like a truck, and suddenly your lunch tastes like cardboard. You swallow what’s left in your mouth, wincing as it goes down, and cover your container. You don’t feel hungry anymore.
“It’s fine, really.” You smile at her, reassuring her. “I’ll tell him about my day today, okay? I just never thought to do it, that’s all.” 
She scowls, like that should never have been an option, but she lets it go.
You call Kageyama as you walk home later, the sun low in the sky. There had been 3 back to back meetings after school, and you’re rolling your shoulders in exhaustion. You’re already dreading the mountain of homework you have to do when you get home.
He picks up after a few rings.
“ Hey .” 
You can hear the squeak of tennis shoes in the background. He’s at practice.
“Oh. Sorry, I thought you ended at 5.”
“ It’s fine. We stayed longer to prep for the game next week. I’m taking a break .” He sighs. “ I’m still not super satisfied with my jump serves. I get them right 90% of the time, but… ”
He rambles on like that, and you try to push down that lingering feeling from lunch. This is how every day goes. You’re never anything but happy to talk to him. You like hearing him ramble – it calms you down, lets you have a moment of serenity in the chaos of your day.
Now, you’re just wondering why he didn’t ask how you are.
Eventually, you clear your throat, seeing the shadow of your house in the distance.
“Hey, I should probably go – I’m home, and I don’t feel super great today, so…”
“ Oh, okay. Bye. ” He hangs up, and you stand in front of your house, staring down at your phone.
He hadn’t asked why you weren’t feeling good.
You shake your head, heading inside. After your shower, you settle down at your desk with a sigh, switching on the overhead lamp. It’s dark now, and you’re just starting on your work. It’s all due next week, so you decide to take it a little easy because you’re supposed to see Kageyama next weekend and you don’t want to get sick again.
You try one more time with him, sending a quick text.
I’m excited to see you next week <3
You put your phone down, oddly anxious, and open your math textbook. Your phone buzzes beside you, and you reach for it with a rush of nerves.
It’s just a thumbs up.
You stare down at it. 
And then you close your textbook and switch the lamp off. You get into bed and cry into your pillow.
He doesn’t ask why you sound a little down when he calls the next morning at 4:30.
You decide to go see him early. You’re supposed to go next weekend, but you’d spent the last two days with a pit of anxiety in your stomach, and you think that maybe if you just see him, you’ll feel better. Reassured.
You get off the train, nothing but your backpack with you. You’d come right after school, but you hadn’t packed an overnight bag because you’d had this idea literally an hour before class had ended.
You make your way to the gym with ease, used to the lay of the campus by now. Kageyama has practice until 5, so you’re right on time to see him.
You stop short when you round the corner, your heart dropping. 
He’s out front with Hinata and his teammates, all chatting excitedly about something from practice.
He’s laughing brightly at something his senior is saying, his eyes screwed up and his arms clutching his sides. Hinata puts him in a headlock with a grin, and he’s fighting back, the two roughhousing on the steps.
You’ve never seen him smile like that before.
Your bottom lip quivers against your will, your eyes filling with unshed tears. You turn to walk away.
This was a bad idea. You’ll just sit at a cafe and wait for the next train home.
“Y/n?”
It’s Hinata, calling out to you from afar. 
You freeze, unable to turn back to them. You can hear the sounds of Kageyama’s teammates as they tease him.
“ Ooh, Kageyama-”
“ -your girlfriend’s here- ”
You blink, wiping furiously at the tears that finally slide down your cheeks. And then you swallow and turn back to them, seeing that Kageyama and Hinata are jogging to meet you where you are.
“Hi…”
“What are you doing here?” Tobio tilts his head at you, confused. “I thought you were coming next week. And-” He looks you up and down, a brow furrowed. “-where’s your bag?”
You’re not sure what to say to any of it.
I wanted to see you .
That would have been fine before. Now you just feel clingy.
I had a bad day. I missed you .
He won’t care. He won’t ask. He’ll just accept that.
Hinata leans toward you a bit, a frown tugging at his lips.
“Are you okay? You look sad.”
Tobio looks at his friend, blinking in surprise, and then down at you.
“What happened? Why are you sad?”
You try not to let it show when your heart cracks a little.
He’d only noticed because Hinata had.
“Uh-I’m fine.” You watch him closely, watch him accept your answer at face value with a nod. Watch Hinata lean away, eyes narrowed in disbelief. You wonder why your friends can see right through you but your own boyfriend can’t.
“Could we maybe get dinner…?”
Kageyama looks back at his teammates, frowning. You wonder where that bright smile had gone and why it had left when he’d seen you.
“The team was supposed to get dinner today…”
Your heart doesn’t even drop anymore. You’d expected it, the rejection. 
“Oh. Yeah, that’s fine. I’ll just meet with you later.” You smile, starting to pull your phone out so you can look up some nearby restaurants. You’d shown up unannounced, anyway. Kageyama hadn’t expected to fit you into his schedule today.
Hinata nudges him hard with his elbow.
“Dude, your girlfriend came all this way to get dinner with you. You can just come along next time.”
Tobio turns to him, and then to you. He blinks.
“Oh. Okay.”
That word feels like a knife through the heart.
You sit silently across from him at the ramen shop, listening to him talk about the upcoming game.
“-maybe if I can just get there a little faster, I could probably-”
“Tobio…”
Kageyama freezes, noodles halfway to his mouth. You almost never say his name. It’s always Kags, or his full last name.
He looks down at you, eyes skimming over you quickly. You won’t meet his eyes, and your hand is trembling just a little. You’ve barely touched your food, and you’ve looked upset for a while now. He hasn’t wanted to push, because you always tell him when something’s up, but…
You put your chopsticks down and take a deep breath. Smile up at him. It doesn’t reach your eyes.
…he’s worried.
“I got top of the class on all my midterms.”
He blinks.
“Oh. Okay. Nice.”
Your brow furrows for just a moment before you fix your expression. 
Something’s not right.
“And I’m organizing the school festival this year…” You bite your lip and look out the window. “It would mean a lot if you could come…”
He puts his chopsticks down and reaches for his phone right away.
“Okay. When?” He opens his calendar and looks up at you expectantly.
You just stare, your eyes full of an emotion he’s never seen before. And then you whisper to him.
“Why did you ask me to be your girlfriend?”
Tobio stares. Locks his phone and puts it down without breaking eye contact. Stares some more.
He’s confused. 
“I thought that’s what I was supposed to do…”
You don’t think you can do this.
There are tears filling your eyes. Your voice cracks when you respond.
“Then I think we should break up.”
He just stares. 
What? Where is this coming from? What are you talking about? You’re supposed to date and then get married. Breaking up isn’t in the plan. 
At all.
“Oh.”
You flinch and look away. ‘ Oh ’. That’s it.
“Why?” He looks serious when he asks, like he might actually be worried about this. You’re not really sure you’ve ever seen him worry about you.
“Because I don’t want to marry someone who doesn’t want to marry me.” You smile bitterly up at him. “Because I never asked you what you wanted. I just decided what we would do.”
You’re having trouble breathing. You feel selfish and guilty. You’d decided what his life would look like, and he’d gone along with it because he’d had no complaints about the choice. He’d done everything right, exactly how you wanted him to. Exactly how he was supposed to.
“Because I don’t want you to wake up one day and realize that you wanted something different out of your life. Or for you to meet someone else and realize that you should have married for love, not obligation.”
He shakes his head, face blank. “That wouldn’t happen.”
You smile sadly. “You haven’t asked me about myself for as long as I can remember.”
He frowns. “I figured you would just tell me the things that were important.”
“And I figured you wouldn’t care because you never asked.”
Kageyama’s heart feels a bit strange. He doesn’t like the look on your face. It upsets him to see you unhappy.
“Oh.” 
“You don’t really know what I’ve been up to. And you don’t know how I’ve changed since you left. You don’t ask. And that’s okay.” You hold eye contact, willing yourself not to cry. “But can you really say that you’re marrying me because you love me?”
He just stares. You stare back. And then you make up your mind.
“Me loving you enough for the both of us still isn’t enough to build a life together.”
He doesn’t react. All he says is–
“Okay.”
It’s been four days.
In those four days, Kageyama Tobio has learned several things about himself.
First, that he’s entirely incapable of getting out of bed on his own. He oversleeps three of the four days and misses his morning runs, barely rolling out of bed in time to get ready for class. The fourth day, he only wakes up on time because he’d put his phone on the bathroom sink the night before so that he’s forced to get up when his alarm goes off.
Second, that the days go by in a blur. He doesn’t remember eating breakfast, and he’s certain he doesn’t go to the cafeteria for lunch like he usually does. He subsists on the protein bars he keeps in his bag, and he only remembers dinner because, by the time practice is over, he’s so hungry that he’s stealing food from Hinata’s bag, too.
The third thing is that he’s messes up at practice in things that he had perfected years ago. He screws up during drills, he somehow is off-tempo during warm-ups, and – most importantly – he’s snapping at his teammates. The stress gets to him on day three, to the point that he’s running drills by himself and pushing his own limits every time he forgets even the smallest thing. When that doesn’t work, he’s yelling at Hinata and then blaming a senior for moving too slow during a set.
He hadn’t done that since high school.
“Dude-” Hinata approaches him after practice on day four. It’s Monday, and they have a game on Friday. Tensions are already high, and he knows well enough that he’s making things worse. “-what is with you lately?”
“ What ?” Kageyama shoots him a glare, one that has Hinata’s eyebrows flying up, because his best friend hasn’t looked at him like that since their first year at Karasuno.
He doubles down, keeping up easily with Kageyama’s long legs when the setter storms out of the gym. “What’s your problem? No one asked the King to make a special guest appearance.”
Kageyama turns so fast to face him that he skids to a stop, bumping into him. And then his shirt is being balled up in Tobio’s fist, and he’s being dragged onto his tiptoes and into Kageyama’s face.
“What the fuck did you just call me?”
Hinata breathes out a sigh, recognizing the frustration in Kageyama’s eyes.
“Why are you snapping at everyone? You’ve been in a mood since Friday.”
“No, I haven’t.” 
“Did you get dumped or something?” Shouyou knows he’s right when Kageyama’s glare and furrowed brow turn into a blank slate. He’s realizing something. “Oh, my God, you did. You got dumped.”
Kageyama drops him back down, releasing him. He blinks.
“I mean… Yeah, I did. But so what?”
Hinata looks at him like he’s crazy.
“What do you mean, so what ? You’re upset!”
Kageyama only swallows. He knows he’s upset. He was upset all of Friday, after you left him sitting there in that ramen shop, claiming you needed to catch the last train home.
But has he been upset enough to disrupt his days this much?
“I…”
“You’ve been oversleeping and barely making it to class.” 
That’s true. 
“You’ve been skipping meals, which is probably why you’ve been crabby and fucking up during practice. You haven’t been eating enough.”
That’s also true. That makes sense.
“And you’ve been distracted.”
Kageyama blinks down at him.
Hinata sighs. “You’ve been checking your phone constantly, dude. You never look up from it anymore.” He points up at the man with renewed frustration. “You almost got hit by that biker when we were crossing the street on Saturday!”
That… had happened. He remembers, barely. That he’d only looked up because Hinata had yanked on the back of his hoodie, that the student on that bike had yelled at him as he’d passed them by.
That he’d been checking his phone, wondering why it had been so silent all day.
“What are you waiting for, Kageyama?”
For her to text me .
“She usually texts me… about eating and… and wedding stuff.” There’s dread in his stomach, and his nerves are twisting painfully in his chest.
Hinata sighs dejectedly, running a hand through his hair.
“What wedding, Kageyama? She broke up with you.”
‘ What wedding, Kageyama?’
Oh.
If you broke up with him, then… Then there’s no dating, and that means no wedding.
Right.
Kageyama scowls at his short friend.
No.
No, he doesn’t like this.
He’s waiting for you at the Karasuno gates on Tuesday afternoon. You spot him as you’re walking out of the building with Yachi. You’d spent the weekend crying in your bed, and you’d decided on Monday – after you’d opened your wallet and promptly started sobbing, because you’d had the other photo booth strip from the amusement park in there –  that you had to get yourself together.
Yachi links her arm through yours and pulls you back when you walk out of school, because she’d noticed him first. You look up, freezing when you see him lingering there. He’s out of place without a uniform, and he’s pacing back and forth in the corner, running his fingers through his hair.
What is he doing here?
You meet Yachi’s eyes anxiously, and the two of you walk to meet him. He looks up when you get close, eyes widening when he sees you. He takes a breath. You think he looks nervous.
“Can you un-dump me, please?”
Your lips part in surprise. Yachi slips her arm out of yours and walks away without a word, realizing that this is probably not something she should be present for.
You stare up at him.
“What?”
He scratches his neck. “This really sucks, Y/n. Can we date again? Please?”
“I-Kageyama-” You look around, wondering if he’s really doing this here. “Can we at least go somewhere else?”
He just blinks. “Okay.” 
You try not to sigh. You hadn’t missed that word.
You lead him past the school grounds, crossing the street and toward the park that’s nearby. There’s no one around, and you take a seat at one of the benches. He sits next to you, silent. And then he turns to you.
“So…”
“I don’t think we should get back together.” You stare down at your hands when you say it.
He shifts to face you, huffing under his breath. “Why not?”
“What’s changed, Kageyama? In the last four days, what’s changed that would make things better this time?” You run a hand through your hair. “Because, from where I’m sitting, everything’s the same.”
“Then sit closer.” He pats the empty space between you for emphasis. 
You sigh, growing frustrated.
“You don’t get it-”
“No, I don’t get it.” He cuts you off, angry. You’ve never seen him get upset with you before. “I don’t get it , Y/n. I thought we were fine. I thought I did everything I was supposed to-”
“Yeah, you did!” You stand, facing him. He stands, too, his chest heaving as he breathes harshly. “You did everything you were supposed to, Tobio. Because Hinata told you to. Because Tsukki and Yamaguchi told you to. You did everything they told you to do.”
“So what ? They were helping me figure out how to be a good boyfriend-”
“Did you even want to be my boyfriend?” You throw your hands up, annoyed. “Did you want to do those things ?”
He looks lost. Lost and frustrated that he’s lost. “Does it matter ? I was fine doing them, and they were things you wanted, and I didn’t mind-”
You fist the front of his hoodie, shaking him. Your eyes are filling with tears. “ It matters, Kageyama!” You drop your forehead to his chest, your breath shaky. “It matters . Those things mean nothing if you don’t want to do them yourself.”
You lift away from him, stepping back and covering your face with your hands. “I thought that if you didn’t have any complaints about the things I wanted, then that meant that everything was fine-”
“Everything was fine.” He’s looking at you like he’s begging you to explain this to him. “ I asked you out. I kissed you first. I did those things-”
“ Because they told you to! ” You bury your hands in your hair. It feels like you’re going insane, saying the same things over and over again. “They didn’t ask if you wanted to . They told you to.” You breathe deeply. “ I didn’t ask if you wanted to.” You drop your hands, sighing. “I just told you to.”
“And then you didn’t ask when you left me!” He digs the heels of his hands into his eyes, frustrated. “You just decided that what we had planned on doing was no longer the plan. You didn’t ask.”
You stare at him, processing. Realizing.
You thought you’d done wrong by pulling him in and keeping him close. So you let him go. 
But that had been wrong, too.
“I’m sorry.” You can’t tell if your apology reaches him. He’s just glaring down at his shoes. “I’m sorry, Tobio. I felt guilty that I had forced you into this relationship and this future with me, and then I realized that I had made you my whole life without ever considering you.”
He meets your eyes. He’s listening.
“And then I saw that you weren’t interested in me or what’s happening in my life. You weren’t asking about my day or asking why I was tired or seeing when I was in pain. And I thought that meant that you were just going along with my plans for our future without ever thinking about if that’s what you even wanted for yourself. And that hurt, so much.”
Kageyama knows what you’re telling him. He’d been thinking about what you’d said on Friday, your words on repeat in the back of his head through the entire weekend.
‘Me loving you enough for the both of us still isn’t enough to build a life together.’
But he had never felt that you had forced him into this. He’d never felt that he might want something else. Even when he was just going along with your ideas because he couldn’t care less, there were no ill feelings. He’d been making you happy your whole lives, without even trying. All he’d ever had to do was be there, and you were happy.
You were never upset around him, never upset because of him. 
So he didn’t know how much he hated it until it had happened.
He had never considered that you might ever need more than that from him. That you might need him to make this an equal-efforts relationship.
“Ask me.”
You just blink up at him, confused. He swallows.
“Ask me what I want.”
There’s a moment of silence, and then you’re inhaling nervously.
“What do you want, Kageyama?”
“I want-” He takes a step toward you, and then another. “-you to be where you’ve always been.” He grabs your shoulders, forcing you to come close to him, right in front on him. “Right here, Y/n. I want you right here .”
You tilt your head back to really look at him, your eyes wide. He’s meeting your gaze evenly. “I need you next to me , Y/n. I cannot function if you’re not.”
You’re confused. And extremely nervous.
“What?”
He tightens his hold on you. “I have not been doing anything right the last few days. I don’t wake up on time. I don’t eat . I am fucking everything up at practice.”
“Kageyama-”
“I keep checking my phone, waiting for you-I almost got run over on Saturday because I wasn’t paying attention-”
“What?! Kageya-”
“I miss you , Y/n.” Do you understand what he’s saying? Is he being clear enough? “I’m useless without you.” 
Butterflies swirl in your stomach, but you still furrow a brow, protesting weakly.
“I’m not your mother, Tobio… I can’t keep doing everything for you-”
“Oh, my-” He releases you, stepping away and running a hand over his face. “Okay, fine! Yes-” He looks at you, exasperated. “I will work on that. I will work on being-I don’t know-” He’s fumbling for his words, trying to figure out what he should say. What’s right. 
“-I will work on myself, okay? But-” He sighs. “-don’t break up with me. Please. Can’t I work on those things with you still here with me?”
You just stare. You’ve never seen this. You didn’t know this side of him existed. This person who is flustered and frustrated and lost. This person who is trying to communicate with you but is struggling.
He looks around, thinking hard. He rubs a finger over his brow, scowling. And then he tries again.
“Okay. When I asked you out, I was really nervous. And you had never made me nervous before. And when we went on our first date, I thought that you looked really pretty when I picked you up, but I didn’t know how to say it.”
You blink. What is he doing?
He starts pacing.
“And when I held your hand on the walk to the movie, I kept wondering if my hand was sweaty and if you could feel it. And I really liked that cafe you wanted to go to the week after, because they had that banana milk latte thing and I thought that was good. And you looked really happy with the cake I bought you, and I thought it was weird that I noticed that part specifically, because you always look happy.”
He scratches his forehead. Is he doing this right? If he’s just completely honest about everything, that would be progress, right?
“And when we went to the amusement park, you wanted me to buy you the cat ear headband, but I thought you looked really cute in the bunny ears. That’s why I bought you both.”
You didn’t know that. He never told you.
“And I look at the pictures from the photo booth thing all the time, but definitely after a bad day at practice. Because you look funny, but also because after I snorted out that milk, you laughed so hard that you cried, and I can never forget that. It makes me smile to think about it.”
He stops pacing. Turns to face you.
“And when I kissed you that day. On the stairs.” 
You flush, your ears already warm and your heart already thrumming nervously in your chest from everything he’s been saying. He sighs, shaking his head.
“I wanted to kiss you again. I should have kissed you again. Because the guys, they did tell me to kiss you. That’s why I did it.” He steps toward you, swallowing hard. “But I wanted to kiss you again. I wanted to. I didn’t, because I was nervous and I couldn’t figure out why I couldn’t feel my fingers. And every time after that, when I wanted to kiss you, I would start to feel that way again. And I didn’t know what to do with that, so I just wouldn’t kiss you.”
He feels it now. His fingers are numb, and his heart is beating in his ears. And his stomach kind of hurts, and he’s terrified that this still isn’t enough. He’s terrified that your silence means that he’s not doing this right.
“I would have liked that.” You purse your lips when he blinks at you in surprise. “If you had kissed me again. I would have liked that.”
He sighs in relief and looks away, putting a hand on his stomach and clutching at his hoodie, scrunching the material. He nods, his eyes shut when he responds.
“Yeah. I would have liked it, too.”
And then he looks at you, eyes examining your expression. 
“Y/n, I… I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know how to do this. I’m bad at everything that’s not volleyball-” He cuts off to roll his eyes. “Well, now I’m bad at volleyball, too. But that’s not-” 
He sighs.
“I don’t know how to make you happy without you telling me, and I don’t know how to be a good boyfriend because I don’t know what that means . I don’t know if what I feel is love because I don’t know what that feels like, and I’m convinced that all the rom-coms the guys made me watch were full of shit.”
You don’t even want to know what that means.
“But I know now that I should try harder. That I should ask you about your day, and that I should talk less about me and more about you, and that this -” He points between the two of you. “-shouldn’t just be you doing everything.”
He steps toward you. “So I’m going to do those things. Not because you told me to and I’m just following along, but because you told me what makes you happy, and I want to make you happy.”
You can only stare, your breath shallow and shaky. He closes the distance, and then, after a beat, reaches hesitantly for your hand. You let him take it. He meets your eyes nervously.
“Can you say something, please?”
You look at him for a moment longer, and then you smile.
“Okay.”
He rolls his eyes.
You lace your fingers through his. He watches the movement, swallowing.
“I like when you do that. It makes me happy.”
Your face starts to warm. “I didn’t know that.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I’ll work on that.”
You nod slowly, thinking. “I’ll work on… growing up, I guess. Being an independent person. Becoming successful on my own, just like you.” You smile softly up at him. He just quirks an eyebrow.
“You already are. Your grades, and your student council stuff…”
You lean forward, planting your forehead on his chest. “You’re a nationally scouted volleyball player, and you think me having good grades makes me successful?”
He puts his free hand on the back of your head, tangling his fingers in your hair. “I think I’m failing two of my classes.”
He smiles when you snort into his shirt. And then he chews on his lip, thinking.
“So… am I un-dumped?” 
You laugh, letting go of his hand so you can wrap both arms around his waist, pulling him in. “Yes, Kags. You’re un-dumped.”
His heart swells, just a little.
“And the wedding?”
You think about it. Your fairytale wedding, with the prince of your dreams. The prince, who is flawed. And you, also flawed. And the fairytale, which apparently needs a lot of work.
“We’ll see.”
You feel him huff. “But you promised me goats.”
You look up, surprised. You hadn’t brought that up since middle school. “I thought you said no.”
He pouts, sheepish. “That’s because I’m pretty sure animals don’t like me very much.”
You can’t help the smile that’s growing on your face. He looks down at you, his fingers still tangled in your hair. And then he leans down, using those fingers to angle your head so he can drop his lips to yours without a word.
You feel his grip tighten nervously, and you raise onto your tiptoes, wanting to be closer, wanting to keep feeling this nervous. Wanting to stay like this forever.
Eventually, he pulls away, but only enough to whisper to you, his lips still against yours.
“ Will you still come to my game on Friday ?” He smiles wide when you snort and nod. “ And you’ll stay with me? The whole weekend? ”
You whisper back. “ If you want me to. ”
He just kisses you again.
Things are different now. Even though those four days had been a blip in the radar of your lives – which haven’t changed very much – things are different because of them. Kageyama becomes a boyfriend in more than just title alone.
He sends you awkward pictures of himself at the cafeteria, showing you that he eats without you needing to remind him. He still calls at 4:30 for his morning runs, but he tells you within a few minutes that you should go back to sleep, that he can get ready even if you’re snoring on the other end, because he doesn’t want you working so early in the morning. And then he calls after practice to ask about your day, about your student council meetings, about your college applications. He asks more questions as you talk, because he wants to know more about you.
He wants to keep knowing more about you, with every part of you that changes.
He comes home for Christmas, sitting through your joint family dinner with that blank stare but with his hand firmly nestled in yours, his arms reaching after you anytime you move to do something that would separate you. And then he takes you to see the Christmas lights in town, buying you anything that catches his eye and pulling you in for a kiss under every mistletoe he sees, because there’s nothing he likes more than a free excuse to kiss you. He comes back for the school festival, even though he has a game the next day, because he know it means everything to you that he’s there. And he wants to support you the way you support him.
He slowly stops looking to you for what he should be doing as your boyfriend. He starts relying on himself, because he knows now that it’s okay if he doesn’t know everything. He just does what he wants whenever he wants to, because more often than not, it ends up being something that makes you happy.
You graduate in the spring and follow him to Tokyo after being admitted into their Chemistry program. It’s nerve-wracking, leaving home like that, but you know it’s for the best that you do. You even fight Kageyama when he tries to get you to move in with him right away.
‘ We’re going to live together forever anyway’ , he says when you tell him you decided to be assigned to a dorm instead. You tell him that that’s exactly why you should live apart now. You have forever.
You’re terrified on your first day of the program, but those fears fade away and are replaced with relief and gratitude, because Kuroo Tetsurou is waiting for you outside, already a fourth year in the same major. He takes you under his wing, introducing you to your new seniors and giving you advice about which classes to take and which professors to avoid.
You make friends with the people in your year, and you hang out with Kuroo whenever you can, because he treats you like an adult, asking for your thoughts on his thesis and giving you opportunities to network with the right people but never doing it for you. Because it’s your future, so you’re the one that has to work for it.
You and Kageyama get into fights now. There are days when he clearly isn’t listening, when he needs to be told multiple times to do something like his laundry or writing that email to that professor about that missing assignment. He asks you multiple times to remind him, and you tell him you’re not his mother and that he’s an adult, for fuck’s sake. He always grumbles when you say it, but he never needs telling twice after that.
And on the days when you feel insecure, when you worry that you’re telling him too often what you want and not giving him enough freedom to act on his own, you close off. You stop communicating, because you forget that the whole reason you feel guilty is because you’re worried he’s not communicating. He’s never gentle with you on those days, because he doesn’t know how to be. He just snaps at you, warning you that you better not get trapped in your destructive cycle, that you just need to talk to him because he’s not a mind reader. You always end up spilling your guts to him afterward, crying like a baby because of the guilt and also because you’re mad that he yelled at you. But you’re still glad that he had.
Those days when you fight are always hard, but they feel real. They feel like a relationship created by people who try for each other because they care about each other. Kageyama slowly becomes a self-sufficient adult who learns to read you better than anyone else, and you slowly let go of the anxiety that had filled you for those first few months after getting back together.
Before you even realize it, two years have gone by and you’re moving into your new apartment for the start of the semester. Kageyama is graduating this year, and he’s still unhappy that you won’t move in with him, even now, but he leaves you to your decisions, because they’re yours.
You both make passing comments about marriage, but you never feel the need anymore to think about it the way you used to. You’d found your notebook from middle school – the one with the hearts around his name – while on a trip home, and you’d almost burned the thing in embarrassment.
Marriage is no longer the fairytale wedding you’d constantly dreamed of, to the prince who could do no wrong. Now, it’s just an expected next step in your relationship, to the man of your dreams – because you’ve always loved him, and you find new ways to fall for him all the time – but there are definitely days when you want to smack him with whatever you have on hand.
Despite that, though, he’s still your prince from the sandbox. That part would never change.
Things are good.
“ So, Hinata asked me how far we’ve gone again .”
You sigh out deeply through your nose when you hear that.
You’re in an otherwise empty lab, just after 7pm. Your studies had gone extremely well, and you’re on track to receive Honors, but unfortunately, that had come with the added responsibility of a rather rigorous independent study project. Your third year began with a pile of journal articles and the keys to your advisor’s lab, which you now use after working hours in order to develop your thesis.
You’re prepping materials for another round of experiments that you’ll run starting tomorrow, when Kageyama calls. You’ve got your headphones in, phone in your back pocket as you run around the room organizing. You can tell by the background noise that he’s riding his bike.
“You know, he is awfully interested in our physical relationship. What does he want, a threesome or something?” There’s a long pause after you say that, one where you can feel his desire to pick a fight. “I’m guessing you didn’t find that funny.”
“ Oh, could you tell? I was trying to figure out how to make my silence angrier .”
Ever since he’d picked up the concept of sarcasm from Hinata, you often have to wonder if that’s what he’s doing or if he’s still just being blunt.
“So what did you end up telling him?” You pull a blank chart from the drawer at your desk and open your laptop to check your notes. You have to document which chemicals you plan on using so you can file the report for clearance.
“That we fuck like bunnies and often in public.”
That was certainly sarcasm.
“You’re funny.”
“He thought so, too.”
Apparently, it was not sarcasm.
You look up from your work, staring out the window in disbelief. “You actually told him that?! ”
He laughs on the other end.
“Well, he didn’t believe me anyway, so–”
“You are so annoying, Kageyama-”
“ I work hard at it .”
You just shake your head, a laugh leaving you. “So? What did he end up telling you that you need to do?”
Kageyama sighs on the other end. “ I knew you would say that .” 
He’d stopped listening blindly to the words of his high school friend group. Hinata asks every few months about your relationship because he’s painfully nosy, and Tsukishima continues to insist that it’s actually because Kageyama is a specimen worth scientific analysis and that it’s shocking that he’d managed to get you back and keep you.
Yamaguchi is the only helpful one and therefore the only one that you meet up regularly with for coffee.
Rather than just doing whatever it is that Hinata thinks you two should be doing, however, Kageyama always brings it to you, asking if you think that’s true or if he should kick his friend’s ass. Most times, it’s the latter.
This time, Kageyama surprises you.
“ He didn’t suggest anything. I didn’t give him anything for him to go off of.”
You hum with interest. “Why?”
“ Because we kiss, and we hold hands, and we spend the night at each other’s houses, and there was that one time we both drank too much and then you jumped me as soon as we were alone- ”
“Oh, my God.” You groan under your breath, wishing he would let that go already. You were drunk and he was particularly pretty that night. And, if you remember correctly – and you do – he had wasted no time slipping his hands under your shirt when you’d started kissing him, so it wasn’t exactly one-sided.
“ -so I guess there was just nothing to tell him. The only thing he would really tell me anyway is that we should have sex, but I think if he’d said that to me, I would have thrown him out a window, so… ”
You flush but say nothing, only offering him a hum of acknowledgment. You two still haven’t gone that far, because Kageyama isn’t ready.
‘It’s one thing to learn to be a good boyfriend,’ He’d said. ‘ But I feel like, if I don’t do this right, I could hurt you. If I’m not good at knowing how to treat you – if I’m selfish with this, even on accident – then something bad would happen between us. ’
You had completely understood, and you’d just thanked him for being honest with you about it. It was back when you’d first started college, back when he still couldn’t read you the way he can now. It wasn’t priority for you, not enough to feel neglected and never enough to pressure him about it.
You had both still been kids back then. You weren’t ready either, to be honest. So it had just never come up again.
Even just a few months ago, on that night when you’d both gotten drunk and ended up in his bed, his hands fumbling for places he’d never been brave enough to go while sober, you had woken up to a guilty look on his face. He’d apologized so earnestly, terrified he’d gone too far, that he hadn’t done it right. It had taken you almost an hour to bring him down, assuring him that you’d had fun and that absolutely nothing was wrong.
You’d known then that even though he can read you perfectly now, sometimes better than you realize, he’s still worried about it. But it’s not like you’re in any rush to get there. You’re both extremely busy, and you barely have time to see each other outside of Friday and Saturday nights, which you’d both decided would be the time when no one else was allowed to contact you.
Just you and him on your couch with bad takeout, your phones lying forgotten in the kitchen. No teammates, no emails from your advisor, nothing.
It’s your favorite part of the week, and you know it’s his, too, because he always gets extremely affectionate on those two nights, his hands lingering on your skin and his lips on yours any chance he gets. That’s as far as he ever goes, and you’re more than happy with that. His attention, his time, his love – it’s all more than enough.
“ -guess I was kind of thinking about it, though… Or… I don’t know, I’ve been thinking for a few months… since that night… I don’t know.”
You have an inkling of what he’s talking about, your nerves suddenly on edge as you stop writing, giving him your full attention. You twirl your pen around your fingers, leaning back in your chair and putting your work aside.
“Thinking about…?”
There’s nothing but the sound of wind in your ears for a moment. It doesn’t sound like he’s in traffic anymore, which means he’s on campus. He must be close by.
“ I don’t know… I kind of feel like I might be ready…?”
You freeze, wondering if you’d heard correctly, and your phone slips and falls out of your back pocket in that stretch of silence. It clatters to the floor loudly, and you know Kageyama hears it on the other end, his voice judgmental in your headphones.
“ Hey. Alive and unharmed, please. I don’t ask for much .” 
You laugh nervously and shake your head, reaching down for your phone. That’s the first thing he’d said when he’d learned that you’d be spending 20 hours a week locked in a chemistry lab this year.
‘Try your best to stay alive and unharmed, okay?’
He’d had no idea that the chemicals are all safety locked, because of course he wouldn’t, so he thinks you’re just in a room surrounded by shelves of corrosive liquids all day.
“What, you gonna cancel the wedding if your girlfriend gets a really awful, face-altering chemical burn? That’s low, Kageyama.” You joke, checking your phone for scratches and then setting it on your desk. He jokes back with ease, his social skills having improved so much over the last few years that he can even go toe to toe with Tsukishima when he’s feeling particularly sarcastic.
“ No, I’m gonna cancel the wedding if my girlfriend manages to blow herself up, because that’s just embarrassing .” You laugh again, louder when he adds, “ -a national volleyball champion marrying someone who trips over her own feet? Pass. ”
“ Wow -” You throw your head back, your laugh echoing in the empty room. “You’ve gotten meaner over the last few years-”
“ Yeah, well, you grew up and became a mini Kuroo, which might be worse .”
You snort, letting a semi-comfortable silence settle between you as you think about what he’d said. That he might be ready. The thought of taking that step with him had always given you a little rush of butterflies, but they’d been easy enough to put in a box for another time.
Now… your hands are starting to sweat and your stomach is flipping.
You hear his bike start to slow, the wind less harsh in the mic of his headphones. He sighs quietly. 
“ Almost done with work? ”
You survey your desk. You’d gotten enough done to call it a day.
“I suppose I could schedule you in.”
“ Funny. Get down here .” He cuts the call without another word.
You grin, packing up and checking that the lab is in order as you’re heading out.
Kageyama’s sitting on a bench outside, bouncing his knee while he waits for you. He stands when he sees you, eyes a little wary.
“Hey…”
You smile wide as you run to meet him. He looks nervous. Probably because you hadn’t said anything when he’d told you he’s ready.
You can fix that.
You reach for his hoodie when you’re close, fisting the material in your hand and dragging him down to meet you. You plant your lips on his, stepping up onto your tiptoes to make things easier.
“ You sure that’s what you want? ” You whisper against his mouth, feeling the way he smiles when he hears it. 
He doesn’t answer, just taking your face in his hands and pushing his lips harder against yours.
“ Let’s go home .”
It doesn’t happen that night. 
You sit together on the couch in your apartment after dinner, but he must be more tired than he’d realized, because he’s asleep, head in your lap, less than ten minutes later. You just smile down at him, carding your fingers through his hair and scratching softly at his scalp for a few minutes. He eventually mumbles under his breath at the feeling, turning and burying his face in your stomach.
His quiet words, muffled in your shirt, reach you in the comfortable silence of your apartment.
“ Love you… ”
Your heart skips. He’s said it before, in the darkness of his bedroom with you wrapped in his arms. At the end of a phone call while he’s abroad for a game. In the middle of a fight, said with frustration and your cheeks squeezed between his fingers, because even when you’re not listening to him – even when he has to grab your face and make you look at him just to get you to focus on him – he still loves you.
And now this, when he’s asleep and has no idea what he’s just said. When he has no control over his thoughts and the way they take form on his tongue. When he can still feel you here with him, even when he’s not here at all.
He says it then, and you can finally see just how deep those words run for him. How engrained they are in his soul, just as they are in yours.
You fall asleep like that, fingers tangled in his hair and his words fresh in your memory.
You wake the next morning to the sound of rustling, the bed dipping next to you. It must be early, the sky outside your window still a bit dark. Had he carried you here?
“ Kags… ?” 
He says nothing, but there’s more shifting and then something’s hitting the mattress beside you lightly. You skim your hand along the sheet until you find it, your eyes still closed. It’s soft, and when you bring it to your face, you realize it’s his t-shirt, still warm with his body heat. 
You drape the thing over your face with a gentle smile, breathing in his scent and trying your best not to be soothed back to sleep by it.
And then you feel a hand on your waist, nimble fingers slipping under your shirt and pushing it up along your ribs. His mouth is warm on the newly exposed skin.
“‘m sorry I fell asleep…”
Your stomach flips when you realize what’s happening, and you’re suddenly wide awake. His mouth lifts off just enough that he can whisper to you, his bottom lip dragging along your skin as he moves up your torso.
“ I wanted it to be last night… ”
Your fingers start to go numb when he makes eyes contact with you, his gaze darkened with something you’ve never seen before. He climbs on top of you, caging you into the mattress with his elbows and dipping his head so he can attach his mouth to your neck, his lips hot on your skin.
You tilt your head to the side, mostly to give him better access, but also so that you can see the time flashing back at you from the alarm clock on your bedside table. It’s almost 6am.
“D-Don’t you have practice…?” It’s Saturday morning, which means practice is early, because there are no classes.
“It was cancelled.” He nips at your earlobe, and you feel him breathe a laugh into your ear when you shiver.
“I feel like you’re lying.” They have a game in two weeks. There’s no way it was cancelled. 
He just hums into your skin, nibbling on a spot under your ear and finding your hand with his, lacing your fingers together on the pillow. “They can survive a day without me. I have something more important to do.”
You can’t help the sigh that leaves you when he shifts between your legs, nudging your thighs apart so he can lay his body between them.
“And w-what would that be?” Your body feels warm, your head hot and fuzzy. You can’t focus on anything except the way his lips feel against your skin, the way he’s pressing his hips against yours, half-hard already.
“ Have to apologize to my girlfriend for making her wait .” He mumbles it against your throat, his tongue peeking out and swiping gently at your pulse point. Your thighs flex around his hips as a reflex, and he’s grinding down shallowly into you unconsciously. Your free hand trembles as you grip at his bicep.
“Wasn’t waiting… It’s okay…” You try to shake your head for emphasis, to show him that you don’t feel neglected, but your head is so heavy and foggy that you’re not really sure how successful you are. “‘s no rush…”
“No?” His lips move down your skin, hand leaving yours as he travels down to the collar of your shirt and then disappears, his mouth finding that exposed skin of your stomach again. His fingers dance along your ribs and under your shirt, stopping just under the swell of your breasts. “But I’m in a rush.”
“Huh?” You barely lift your head off the pillow, meeting his eyes shallowly. He just grins, kissing down your navel and bringing his hands down so he can tug carefully at the waistband of your shorts. He buries his face there, kissing along the marks your shorts left on you and nipping at your hip bones. His mouth starts to water as he thinks of all the skin he hasn’t touched yet. Claimed yet.
He plans to change that.
“ You’re not in a rush, but-” He leaves your navel alone, sliding down easily and pushing his hands against the hem of your shorts so he can have more access to you. So he can be closer.
He wraps his hands around your thighs, mouth finding your inner thigh easily. You’re warm, soft. His grip on you tightens.
“-now that I know what I want, and how much I want it, I want it now.” He meets your eyes, your own wide and nervous. Your thighs tremble just slightly under his touch. “So I’m in a rush. That okay?”
You just nod, your head falling back against the pillow as you breathe out an unsteady ‘ Okay… ’. You can’t help but jump when his tongue laps against your thigh, and then his voice is reaching your ears, a whisper of your name. You just hum unsteadily to let him know you’re listening.
“ I’m going to need your help… ” He just hold your thighs tight when you lift your head to look at him. “ I can’t do this without you .”
Your stomach flips at how innocently he’s looking at you, despite being in such a compromising place. It never fails to affect you, when he’s so blunt about the fact that he needs you. For a man with a face so neutral, a stare so empty, he’d always been vocal about wanting you by his side, ever since that confession in the park all those years ago.
You don’t think you’ll ever get used to it.
“ Okay… I’m here… ”
He breathes a sigh of relief, pressing his lips to your thigh one more time before letting you go, climbing over you again so he can push his mouth against yours.
His fingers curl around the hem of your shirt, and, with a nod from you at his curious tug, he pulls the thing up and over your head in one motion. You fall back against the bed, fisting the sheets in your hands as you lie there under him, chest exposed for the first time. 
He stares down at you, settling back on his knees and letting your shirt slip from his fingers and onto the floor without even realizing. He just stares, lips parted as his eyes dart between your breasts and up to your face.
“I…”
You cave when he trails off, finally bringing your arms up to your chest and hiding yourself, your face burning. Kageyama’s eyes widen, gaze flying up to meet yours firmly.
“What? What happened?” His fingers hover nervously over your arms while he watches you. “What did I do?”
You just shake your head, your ears ringing as you start to feel warm all over. “Nothing, I just… got nervous… that you wouldn’t like them…”
You watch his face, previously so vulnerable and scared that he’d screwed up, fall into a perfect deadpan. 
You know that face.
With a click of his tongue, he closes his fingers around your wrists and pulls them off of your chest, pinning them above your head.
“Stop being annoying.”
You scoff, not even slightly offended but still shocked he’d switched up on you like that.
“What the hell-”
“ Smartest fucking girl I know -” He’s mumbling to himself as he presses your wrists down into the pillow. He leans back onto his heels with a shake of his head. “- and you can still be so stupid sometimes .”
“Kag-” You jolt, cutting off, because he’s sliding his fingers up along your ribs and enveloping both of your breasts in his hands at the same time. He’d felt them over your bra before, that night that he’d gotten extra handsy, but to look down and see the way he’s got both hands cupping them, kneading gently with an excited glint in his eye – it makes you realize that you have nothing to be worried about.
Not with him.
“Can I…” He glances up at you, swallowing quickly. “Can I do what I want?”
Your stomach drops, heat building in your navel at the way he’s asking you to let him have his way.
“Yeah… Whatever you want…” You nod, and then your eyes widen, because he’s dropping his hands from your chest to your waist again, fingers hooking into your shorts. You meet his anxious glance with one of your own, but you lift your hips and let him undress you, let him explore. Let him get to know you better, because he’s always saying that that’s what he wants more than anything else.
Kageyama drops your shorts and panties to ground with your shirt, and then he’s hooking both hands behind your thighs and prying them open, letting them drape over his own. You inhale sharply at being so suddenly exposed, and your hands fly down instinctively to cover yourself, but they’re caught easily in his hold.
He sends you one withering look, daring you to try again, but he holds your wrists with the utmost care, feeling your fingers wrap nervously around his own as he stares down at you.
“You’re really pretty… You sure this is all mine?” He can’t take his eyes off of you, not even when your hips shift nervously under the weight of his stare. You whine his name, feeling vulnerable like this.
“I thought there was something you wanted to do…”
He doesn’t bother to look up at you when he responds. “I’m doing it.”
You breathe out a laugh of disbelief, shaking your head.
“Come on, you’re making me nervous again.”
Finally, he looks at you, seeing how anxious your gaze is. How your lips are pursed, how your eyes are begging him not to look so intensely.
He can’t help but smile.
Releasing your hands, he climbs back over you and lowers his lips to yours, gentle but firm. Sure that this is what he wants.
You slide your hands into his hair, anchoring yourself to him and trying not to gasp too loudly when he lowers his hips back down to yours, pressing the fabric of his sweats against your bare core. He pushes his tongue carefully against the seam of your lips, angling his head for a better fit when you part your lips for him.
You’re so focused on kissing him, on feeling the way he brushes his tongue against yours and makes your head swim, that you don’t feel one of his hands finding your breast until he’s cupping it and kneading softly.
“ This okay? ” He murmurs against your lips, growing bolder when you nod earnestly. 
“Little more is okay, too…” You feel him try again, feel his thumb pass over your nipple and then find it again when you twitch at the feeling. He focuses his attention there and flicks at it a few times, a weak moan leaving him when you dig your teeth into his bottom lip and pull it into his mouth in response.
The hands you have in his hair grip tighter, and you’re whispering his name against his lips, because he’s bucking his hips forward unconsciously again, bumping up against your core and sending a shock through your skin. 
He does it again, on purpose this time, because he likes the little shiver that runs through you, the way you lift your hips to meet his halfway. He likes how you feel under him, your skin soft under his hands and your core wet, starting to soak through his sweats and boxers the longer he touches you.
He drops his mouth to that spot under your ear that he likes, his heart pounding in his ears and his pants tight on him when you whisper into his ear, that ‘ Tobio ’ a half-moan and full of desire. Full of him and everything you want him to do to you.
And when he feels you push at his sweats with a shaky hand – when you arch your back and press your chest against his, asking him quietly to please take them off – he wants nothing more than to make you his.
With a sigh that holds everything he’s nervous about – hurting you, not being able to make you feel good, fucking this up – he leans away just enough to reach over for your bedside table, for the box that sits on top.
You had gone together to the convenience store last night, standing together in mortification and confusion by the condoms. He hadn’t known what size to get. He’d been so lost, and there had been so many options. 
You had watched him stand in the aisle with a box marked ‘Medium ’ for so long – long enough that you’d left him there to grab some snacks, to give him space – that by the time you’d come back, arms full of chips and drinks, he was still standing there, staring down at it. He’d switched it out for the large ones at the last second, and you’d tried not to blush at the implication.
Now, as you’re pushing his pants past his hips and staring down at his cock as it slaps lewdly against his navel, you’re realizing that he’d probably made the right choice in that store last night.
He fumbles for the box when he feels the cold air on his hot skin, and it falls to the floor. He swears under his breath, his voice shaky, and he reaches down for it. You watch him carefully, seeing the color of his ears and the flush of his cheeks. He meets your eyes nervously as he’s lifting back up onto the bed.
“ S-Sorry… ” He sits back on his heels, tearing into the box with shaking hands and pulling a condom out, throwing the rest onto the bed next to you. He starts to rip into the foil, but his hands are trembling so bad that he just ends up dropping the packet onto the mattress, between your legs. “Fuck, sorry-”
“Kags-” You sit up, fingers touching the back of his hand when he reaches for it again. He meets your eyes, and you can see that he’s more than nervous. He’s scared. “What is it?”
“I-” He swallows. “I just don’t want to ruin this.”
“You won’t.” You’d been so nervous this whole time, giving him that shy look while he’d been touching you. But now your gaze is firm, unyielding. “You won’t ruin this. You want this, right?”
“So much.” He nods harshly, trying to convey to you how badly he wants this. He’s just scared. “I want this so much.”
“Okay. That’s all that matters, then… Remember? What you want, and what I want. That’s what matters.” When he just blinks, nodding slowly but still unsure, you take his face in your hands and force him to meet your eyes. “It’s me, Tobio.”
Kageyama stills. 
It’s you.
The girl from the sandbox, all those years ago, with that princess costume. Asking him to be your prince. Beaming when he’d said yes.
The girl who would cheer for him at every game, screaming his name like there was no one else, like there would never be anyone else.
The girl who’d sacrificed pieces of herself to make him happy, even when he’d been clueless and stupid, too caught in himself to see everything you were giving up for someone as undeserving as him.
The girl who’d tried to leave his side. Who’d left him lost in his head when you weren’t where you were supposed to be, anywhere he would turn, searching for you.
The girl who’d forced him to grow up, loving him and caring for him in a way that he would never find again. The girl who laughs and cries for him, the girl who fights with him and for him, because you’d promised never to leave his side again, and you’d stuck firmly to that decision, no matter how impossible he can be sometimes.
The girl who had looked at him – had seen how much he struggles to understand people’s emotions, how selfish and unaware he can be – and had only ever seen a boy that she’d wanted to spend the rest of her life with.
“It’s you…” 
You smile at the dumb look on his face, empty and processing, and nod. “It’s me. I’m not going anyw– mm- ” 
Kageyama surges forward, cutting you off and pushing his lips against yours urgently. You hold tight to him as he knocks you off balance, your head meeting the pillow as he kisses you with everything he has. Finds your hand in the sheets and holds tight, like he never wants to let go. Whispers ‘I love you’ against your lips, like it’s not enough for him to say it – he needs you to feel it.
And then he leans away, leaving you to catch your breath with your hand pressed to your heart while he reaches for that forgotten packet lying between your thighs. 
He rips it open easily – still nervous, but sure of himself – and rolls the condom on carefully. He scoots his hips toward yours, laying your thighs flat over his, and meets your eyes again as he’s lining himself up at your entrance.
You smile sweetly, nervously. “You’re sure?”
He smiles back, a soft laugh leaving him on his next breath. “I thought that was supposed to be my line.”
There’s no hesitation in your voice when you respond.
“ I’ve always been sure. ”
Kageyama Tobio learns in that moment that not all heartbreak is bad.
His eyelids flutter as he looks down at you, breath caught in his throat. Your fingers find his wrist, and your smile knocks the wind right out of him.
Neither of you say a word as he nudges the tip of his cock past your entrance.
You inhale sharply at the sting, and he stops, eyes wide as he watches you. You nod after a breath, and he keeps going. 
He drops his head, feeling how tight you are, how hard it is to push into you. You bring his lips to yours, kissing him and letting him know silently that this is okay, that this is normal. That he’s not messing this up.
You cling to him, burying your head in the crook of his neck when he drops down over you with a shaky sigh. His hips finally meet yours, and all you can feel is your heart beating, everywhere. In your head, in your chest, in your ears. In the place when your body meets his, the place that almost seems to pulse with his heartbeat, too.
His lips find yours, and you kiss him with your hands buried in his hair, holding him close as you tell him everything that you don’t have the breath to say.
You stay like that for a while, and then he’s tensing, because you had clenched around him unconsciously, finally finding the stretch less painful and more pleasurable. 
He pulls his mouth away, leaning back so you can prop yourself up on your elbows and then pressing his forehead against yours. You both stare down at the junction of your bodies, breath mingling in the space between you as you fight to calm your hearts.
After a moment, you slide your gaze up to his, only to find that he’s already looking at you. His eyes are full of something – something soft, soft and warm and his – and your stomach flips harshly. You clench again without meaning to, and that look in his eye is gone, disappearing when his eyes roll back briefly, eyelids fluttering at the feeling of you around him.
“I-I’m sorry…” 
He only laughs breathily, eyes still shut, and shakes his head.
“Yeah, so am I.” He heaves out another breath, finally finding your gaze again. “This is torture.”
You blink, realizing what he means. “Oh! You can move now, Tobio, I’m fine-”
“You’re telling me that now ?” He looks distraught, and you can’t help but laugh. “Do you have any idea how much self-control it- agh- ” He shakes his head again, dropping his head to your shoulder and knocking you back onto the bed. He tangles his fingers in your hair, speaking into the crook of your neck. “You’re killing me here.”
You shift your hips, intending to apologize, but the feeling of him buried inside of you like this when you move has you gasping. He does the same, your name a half-moan in your skin. He pulls his hips back gently without removing his face from your neck, and you both breath shakily when he pushes into you again, slow but less uncertain than the first time.
The moan that tumbles out of your mouth is amplified by his own, low and harsh in your ear.
“You-” He moves again, and you start to crave the stretch he gives you when he pushes into you again. “-you feel-”
“ Kageyama… ” You cling to his arms, burying your face in his skin and wrapping an arm around his neck to keep him close like this. “It feels-” You cut off, moaning when he snaps his hips harshly.
Neither of you are able to form any coherent thoughts, and you can tell that he’s close when he reaches almost frantically for your hand, gripping so tight that his knuckles turn white.
He doesn’t last long, not when your moans are so close to his ear like this, flying straight down his spine and into a spot just under his bellybutton, shocking his system and shoving him closer and closer to something he can’t even begin to describe.
He comes with your name on his tongue, his face buried in your neck and your hand in his the only thing keeping him grounded. You mewl at the feeling, the sound forcing his hips forward one last time and drawing his name out of your mouth.
You feel full of him, your heart pounding harshly in your ears as he collapses on top of you. You keep your arm wrapped firmly around his neck, holding him against you. He catches his breath like that, his chest heaving against yours as he comes down from his high.
And then his fingers are wiggling against yours in your joined hands, and it almost aches to pry your fingers off of his when he pulls his hand away, sore from the tight grip. 
He reaches down blindly, and you think he’s going to lean away from you and pull out.
But he just skims his shaking fingers over your skin, reaching between you and brushing over your core. He stops moving when you jolt against him, and he knows he’s found your clit. He stays firmly there, his middle finger circling the spot gently and adjusting to the way your body responds, the way your back arches and you breathe in harshly at the feeling.
“W-What are you–”
“ You didn’t finish .” He mumbles against your skin. He can tell because you’re still clenching around him, your walls fluttering every time he does something you like. “ ‘m I doing okay? ”
“It’s perfect.” Your eyes start to fill with tears, your heart swelling with emotion. You hide your face in his neck. “ You’re perfect -”
“ Marry me. ” 
You almost think for a second that he hadn’t said it. His fingers never stop moving, and he pulls you closer and closer to the edge, still buried inside of you, as if he hadn’t said anything at all.
But you know he had, because he’s saying it again, even as your head is starting to fill with white static at the way he’s touching you.
“Let’s get married.” He pulls his head away from your neck, and his eyes are meeting yours. “Please. Marry me. Let me make you happy.”
His fingers swipe over your clit, and those tears that were filling your eyes are spilling over now, your chest drowning in that feeling of love that you’d become so familiar with over the years. It forces a choked sob out of you, and you’re nodding frantically as he’s nudging the tips of his fingers against that spot again.
He laughs breathily, and if you could see through your tears, you would know that he’s staring down at you like he’s never seen something so perfect. Your tears stream down your face and onto the pillow, and the feeling growing in the pit of your stomach has you reaching for his shoulders to pull him back down.
“ I love you– ”
Kageyama drops his head to your shoulder as you come undone, your body twitching and your back arching as you cry for him. He holds you tight, murmuring his love into your ear as you come down, breathing hard against his skin.
You lie there, wrapped up in him as you sob, because you can’t find your breath and because he’s holding you like you’re somehow still not close enough.
“I love you…”
His words are soft in your ears, soft against your tears. 
“I’ve loved since before I knew what that meant.”
You cry harder, squeezing your eyes shut and sobbing into him.
“I was so bad at loving you before.” He finally pulls away so he can meet your eyes. You can barely see him, vision blurry. “But I know how to love you now. You taught me how to love you. I can’t unlearn that.”
Your hands are shaking as they grip his shoulders. He waits until your breath starts to even out, until you’re blinking the tears out of your eyes and finally seeing him. Until your heartbeat can match his.
“Please let me keep loving you.”
You whisper his name, and then nod. He starts to smile, and you beam back at him, your smile watery and fragile. He combs your hair out of your face, wiping your tears away with his thumb while he talks.
“Is that a yes? You’ll marry me?”
You just nod again, leaning your face against his hand.
“Okay.”
He sighs, heated, and rolls his eyes.
“You’re annoying.”
“You love me.”
His smile gives him away.
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joonsytip · 7 months ago
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Only for Love || Mingyu [Teaser]
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Pairings: Mingyu x Fem!Reader
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut, Husband!Mingyu, Cold Wife!Reader, Arranged Marriage au, Contract Marriage au, Divorce au
Synopsis: When an accidental discovery has your perception of happy married life crumbling down, you do what you think is the best for everyone involved. Naturally, your opinion of the best doesn't cater to your husband's. So what happens when things spiral out due to unforeseen events?
Warnings: Reader is cold but also shy, Mingyu is gullible and impulsive, lack of communication, misunderstanding, miscommunication, reader is objectified once, hurt, crying, profanities, mentions of divorce, sexual intimacy, mentions of pregnancy, rest will be specified under the part when published
Main story out now checkout here!
[ SVT Masterlist ] [ SVT Flick - Fic Masterlist ]
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"Let's get divorced."
When Mingyu came home late at night to see you awake and waiting for him, there was an uncanny feeling that settled within.
Your hands are crossed, face void of any expression. If not for your next words, Mingyu would think he's hallucinating.
"We can decide on the terms and clauses, all as per your convenience.", you stress, "I do not expect any trouble from your side."
Mingyu finally registers everything you have said till now and everything hits him all at once.
"W-What are you talking about? Why do you want a divorce all of a sudden?"
Your monotonous tone rather asks him another question, "We have been married for over two years, nearing it's third anniversary. Do you want to be tied in this marriage?"
Though Mingyu thinks he doesn't know you well enough but he knows you enough to catch the wind of your words.
His gaze turns towards his office room and his suspicion confirms to be correct when he sees the door opened ajar.
"Why did you enter my office? I had clearly warned you about not doing so.", he says in a strict voice.
"That doesn't answer my question.", you say getting up, "Anyways it doesn't matter anymore, I want you to move out of our shared bedroom right now and shift to the guest room. I'll get a lawyer, you get one too and proceed with the divorce."
As you turn back, you feel your husband's hand wrap around yours.
"How are you so calm? Why are you not asking me anything? Do I really mean nothing to you?", you hear a string of questions falling out of his lips, "We are married for almost three years now and your cool headedness after, I'm assuming, knowing everything makes me aware of the fact that I really don't know you."
You jerk your hand out of his grip and turn back to look at him, "And how is that my fault? Maybe you've never tried to know me.", your voice drops another octave, "You can stop with the doting husband act, now that I know the truth."
Mingyu doesn't miss the way your eyes show vulnerability for a moment. Your words strike a chord within him.
"I'll sleep in the guest room.", Mingyu says in defeat, "And we're gonna talk it out tomorrow morning.", he sounds sincere when he says, "I'm sorry. I hope you'll give me a chance to explain everything."
But little does he know, you've already closed the room for any diversions, that you've decided to part ways with the person who has betrayed your trust.
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→ Do not copy, re-post, translate, or share any of my works on other platforms! All stories are copyrighted, joonsytip.
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sunshineandspencer · 5 months ago
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Jolene
A/N: I’ve managed to get sick and the thing that roused me from my deathbed was hearing Jolene and going ‘yes, this applies to a Hotch fic, my people need me’ if it doesn’t make sense, blame the headache.
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Girlfriend!Reader.
Summary: She desperately tries not to think that way about his ex-wife, but seeing them interact hurts way more than she thought it would.
Word Count: 1k
Warnings: established relationship, cutesy nicknames, Haley is alive, barely-negative self-thoughts, angst but a happy ending
be added to the taglist!!
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“I can easily understand how you could easily take my man, but he’s the only one for me, Jolene.”
Some part of her knew this wasn’t going to be easy, but she’d powered through it. Aaron had kissed her softly in the kitchen and told her that it would all be alright, slowly moving her to the stairs so that she could get ready.
Smacking her ass and laughing as she yelped, disappearing into their bedroom to get dressed.
They’d been together nearly three years now, only about a month until their third anniversary, and he promised something big - but that’s not important right now.
Jack has a big soccer game this afternoon, his team - little league but still important, as both men swear to her - had made it to whatever the ‘finals’ were. Aaron coaches his team, and as much as she tries to keep up, sports have never been her thing.
Despite this, she attends every single game and cheers no matter what’s happening. Plus, she gets the added bonus of seeing her boyfriend in a loose shirt and shorts, a rare and delicious sight. All the other moms have learnt that Aaron is taken, considering he comes over to kiss her whenever he can.
Honestly, Aaron is perfect. 
Even with his job, she doesn’t mind at all. She’s a photographer, and so she does all her editing work from home, and even when she does need to travel, she does it around his work and Jack’s school times. Occasionally bringing them with her, or just Jack when Aaron is away.
She absolutely loves their little family, and every single moment they spent together, and knew early on that days like this couldn’t be avoided forever.
Of course, she knows that Aaron loves her, he tells her more than enough and he still thinks he’s lacking in that department. But he loves her so desperately that he easily makes her feel seventeen all over again.
So Aaron is not the problem, but she is.
Haley, his ex-wife. The woman divorced Aaron, and moved on a lot quicker than he had, but that’s not the problem, people move at different speeds and she fell out of the marriage a lot sooner than Aaron did. The issue that she has is seeing them together with Jack.
They’re so.. picture perfect. Clearly a family. To the point where it hurts.
Haley is utterly gorgeous, and ageing has only done her wonders. Of course, she knows that she’s also aged pretty well, but not as well as her. 
The woman exists as if the phrase ‘fine wine’ was made just to describe her, and the quiet sting of jealousy hits deep whenever she and Aaron interact. It isn’t very often, thank God, but it still sucks.
The way she still talks to him so casually, as if they were friends who didn’t have an eight year marriage between them, it sets her on edge. It feels like she believes if she wanted she could easily stroll back into Aaron’s life. And why wouldn’t she?
She’s stunning, she’s Jack’s mother, there’s nothing stopping her from taking Aaron all over again.
Except the fact Aaron has reassured her that Haley is nothing to him anymore except the woman who gave him the greatest gift in his life bar his “wonderful girlfriend”, and she believes him. God- it feels so wrong to feel jealous and small when he’s told her that Haley is nothing. It feels like she’s doubting him, and it’s not that she’s trying to, she can’t help it.
How could she, when his ex-wife looks like that?
“Where’ve you gone sweetheart?”
Blinking softly, she looked up from where Jack was excitedly talking to his mom about all the goals he scored - uncaring that half were own-goals.
Aaron had come over to sit next to her, and hesitated from placing his usual peck to her lips when he found her so lost in her own thoughts. Moving to sit next to her and immediately place a hand on her thigh, squeezing softly and pressing his thumb into her flesh by the hem of her dress.
“Nowhere, no I’m- I’m still here.” He gives her a look and she sighs, leaning in to kiss him and grumble unhappily against his lips. “Everyday you make it harder and harder to like profilers.”
Humming, he kissed her a little firmer than usual and she pulled back, looking at him confused. Not that she was complaining, but he usually had a reason.
“She may be his mother, but Jack loves you just as much.”
Her heart seized, hating that he was able to figure her out so easily, but not surprised anymore. Reaching to squeeze his hand where it still rested on her thigh and turning to look at him fully.
“Aaron, I--”
“I mean it dove, we love you. She’s had her time in my life, and that’s over, you are the only one I want for any foreseeable future.”
A bright smile drew up on her face, the one he so loves drawing out because it means that she’s getting over whatever bothered her. 
He’s not stupid, he knows how much that bothered her at the start, and it had calmed down slightly over the years, and she believes him completely. Convincing her brain to believe him, however, had been the most surprising thing to try and overcome. For her, however, he’d reassure her everyday for as long as it takes.
With her hands smoothing up his arms to thread into the hair at the nape of his neck, that little bashful smile overcame her face as she got closer. Pressing a quick kiss to his lips.
“Careful there Hotchner, or someone might think you’re proposing to me.”
He huffed out a small laugh and wrapped his arm around her waist and tugged her even closer, kissing her deeply. Not caring that there were other moms watching and awing, or Jack making fake throwing-up noises, even though he really doesn’t mind.
Only pulling back to brush his nose against hers, smiling down at her and watching the way she couldn’t decide which eye of his to focus on.
“Just wait sweet girl, I’m not having you ruin my surprise.”
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Want more?! Good!
taglist ( ˘ ³˘)♥ @peachsodameg @angelinajolie0213 @jiggly-puff-12 @khxna @kennedy2156 @trulycayla @none-of-your-bullshit @alexxavicry @meg-black @anotherpassiongirl @princessjax @gghostwriter (please tell me if this works because I have never done this and google is useless, also if your tag is here and it doesn't work, check your settings to see who is allowed to tag you or this might not work)
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vivalabunbun · 2 years ago
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Do I Meet Your Qualifications Now?
Summary: A promise made long ago resurfaces during a night of drinks with colleagues. 
Word Count: 8.2k (now this is the longest fic I’ve ever written)
Tags: Alhaitham x Fem!Reader, Smut(r18), NSFW, MDNI, Modern AU, Childhood Friends AU, Office au? kinda, Mutual Pinning, Fluff, slight dubcon, slight angst, mentions of office sexual harassment, creepy boss, mentions of marriage, slight yandere!alhaitham, slight mentions of breeding maybe? Jealously, possessive!alhaitham, you enjoy drinks at a tavern with the sumeru boys.  
Authors note: This is my first smut in a long long time, I just thought about how alhaitham’s bottled up emotions will one day bubble over, inspired by a small ramble of mine lol. Enjoy. 
side note: here is a small continuation after this story
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You needed a drink, something strong enough to forget about your growing workload that your paycheck no longer justified. With each new stack of paperwork that reached your desk, the resignation form became increasingly more appealing. You were drained by the time you clocked out at 6 pm, after having to attend 4 meetings throughout the day, all of which could have been a simple email. 
“No no, this company has good 401K matching, paid time off, and dental included. 401K and dental, 401K and dental.” You chanted to yourself, trying to steel your resolve against throwing your two weeks' notice in the face of your manager who has been pushing more and more of his work onto you. 
All while having the gall to be flirty. As if that ugly gold band wasn’t visible on his finger. Your cheeks hurt after having to hold your business professional smile for the past eight hours. The moment you stepped foot beyond those sliding glass doors, massaging your sore face with one hand. 
‘It should be happy hour now, better get a spot at the bar now,’ you thought as you took off your stiff blazer. 
You swore one day you’ll catch a cold from constantly subjecting your body to the dramatic shift of your tundra of an office to the sauna that was Sumeru’s climate. Ugh, stupid professional dress code, and stupid you for deciding to wear your new heels today. The back of your ankles felt raw despite the thin layer of your stockings reducing some of the chafing.
As the saying goes, thank god it was Friday, even though you couldn’t take a half day like so many of your co-workers, you were just glad to finally be out of sight from your manager with wandering eyes. 
Pushing in the wooden doors to the tavern, you were quickly engulfed in the busy hustle and bustling of servers delivering rounds of glasses to rowdy tables and the hearty drunk laughter of flushed faces. 
‘Damn, it’s this crowded already.’ You felt your shoulders drop, ‘should I just pick up some wine on the way home then?’ Another sad weekend spent in your stuffy apartment, great. 
Just as you were about to turn on your heels, you spotted a familiar flash of blond hair. Was that Kaveh? You squinted your eyes to focus on that spot of blond through the wave of patrons. 
“HA! I’m telling you there is no way that shrewd man got his position without some sort of shady dealing. I bet he’s got some dirt on some higher-ups.” 
Yep, that was definitely Kaveh, you immediately recognized that dramatic shrill in his voice. You heard it many times during your college days together, increasingly so whenever he had an architecture final due. He was at a large table, there seemed to be plenty of room for one more person. Swiftly, you made your way through the crowd to tap the blond man on the shoulder, disrupting him mid-rant. 
“Kaveh? Oh my god, it is you. It’s been so long. How’ve you been?” You feigned surprise. 
“Oh? Oh!” His eyes lit up with recognition. “My college savior! How’ve you been? Come, sit down and drink with us!” 
Score, you’ve successfully secured a seat at the tavern. Thus, you avoided wallowing in self-pity alone on your beaten couch. You meet eyes with two unfamiliar faces, the trio seemed to have been setting up a game of cards before you joined, or before Kaveh began to rant about whatever he rants about. 
After a quick round of introductions and placing your order for a glass of sweet wine, you were quickly acclimated to their conversation. Tighnari was a part of the research and development team, while Cyno was the head of company security ensuring no classified information gets leaked to competitors. Kaveh, you already knew was the star of the architecture design department. 
It felt nice being able to relieve stress about redundant company policies and gossip, or at the very least it was entertaining to hear Kaveh whine nonstop about them. 
“Ah, I still just don’t understand how that man got the position of head secretary. I swear he has it out for me, he refused to process my request for approval because ‘it was outside of his working hours’ and because of that my project got delayed a whole week! There is no way he climbed the ranks with that work ethic!” 
You did not even have to ask who the subject of Kaveh’s dismay was, it was quite obvious to the 3 of you at the table. 
“Just because I can manage a healthy work-life balance, does not mean my work ethic is mediocre. My work hours are clearly posted outside of my office, it seems that literacy has decreased.” A husky voice rang out from just behind your chair. 
You felt a slight shiver run up your neck, leaving a trail of goosebumps along its journey. He was here, the main antagonist in Kaveh’s rants has finally shown his face. 
“Oh, ‘Haitham? It’s rare to see you come out of your shell of books.” You looked over your shoulder at the towering man as he loosened his tie. Scooting a bit closer to Cyno, making more room for him to sit at the last seat. 
“It is a surprise to see you here as well, did Kaveh drag you out to play a game of cards… or perhaps did he want you to foot his tab.” Alhaitham gave the blond man a slight side-eye before returning his attention back to you. 
“Hey! I can hear you!”
“It was intentional, couldn’t you tell?” 
“You-”
You let out a light giggle from behind your wine glass, noticing the sliver-haired man’s eyes turning back towards you. 
“Did you want to sample a bit of the wine? It’s sweet.” You offered your glass to him, hoping he didn’t notice the slight shiver when his long fingers brushed against yours as he accepted it. You tried to keep your face as polite as possible, not allowing your eyes to wander down along his neck as he took a sip. 
“Not bad,” he placed your glass back down in front of you. “Boss, this is good wine. I would have the same, please.” He turned his large body slightly as he called out to the tavern owner. 
Allowing you to see just how well that button-down shirt fitted his form, the top button seemed to be holding on with all its strength. 
“I thought we were all grown enough to not be entertained by mindless gossip,” Alhaitham remarked towards the table. 
“Not at all, we were just curious about the raising star of the company,” Tighnari commented. 
“There’s nothing special to talk about, I just arrive and do the task I have to before I clock out.” 
“It’s a bit odd for a man that lacks ambition to land such a high role within a year.” Cyno followed up, his eyes holding a hint of suspicion. 
“ It’s really nothing complicated. I’ve even rejected some promotions, the work of a secretary is simple, that’s why I wish to keep things this way.” 
“Ah, he’s humble-bragging now.” You hear the tan man beside you mutter as he crossed his arms. 
You also couldn’t help but feel the sting of jealousy as well. While you were proud of your childhood friend having success in his carrier, he advanced much faster than you even though you got a two-year head start. 
“Ugh, how did you stand this egomaniac for so long.” Kaveh harshly set his glass down, directing the question at you. 
Seeing this as an opportunity to tone your childhood friend down a few, you couldn’t help the slight grin that spread across your face. 
“Well, he’s always been this way,” you swirled your glass, “I guess I just got used to it.” 
“Makes sense, attitudes like his tend to develop at tender ages.” Tighnari vouched. 
“He was so cute when he was younger. This man used to pull on my sleeve and beg me to read Aristotle to him.” You stole a quick glance over your wine glass. 
“Oh? You two go that far back?” Cyno inquired. 
You hummed in confirmation as you took another sip, “I guess it’s partially my fault for not correcting him back then. But he used to have the chubbiest cheeks, I couldn’t help but be swayed. Who would’ve known that once that cuteness faded, all that’s left is a mulish man.” 
You heard Alhaitham tsk in annoyance at your jabs, crossing his arms as he leaned back in his seat. 
“Clinging onto the past will serve no benefit towards the future. Frankly, it’s a foolish thought.” 
You hid the sting in your heart with a teasing smile, hoping that it reached your eyes as well. He was right, the past was gone and over with, with little to no bearings on the future. The same stood with your relationship, childhood friends, and nothing more. 
Alhaitham had the looks, the stellar career, and was already a homeowner while being four years your junior. Even with your head start on life, it felt as if you were constantly behind him, trying to catch up. You knew one day he’ll leave you in the dust, so it is for the best that you let go of this one-sided crush. 
“Oh? Then I guess I’m released from that childhood pact then. How freeing.” You let out a slight laugh before taking a larger sip of your wine. You should probably order another glass, maybe two actually. 
The stoic man raised an eyebrow at your statement, “and what do you mean by that.”
“Aw, it looks like little ‘Haitham forgot,” you pouted. However, you could not let this opportunity to tease him slip away. 
Setting down your glass, you turned to face everyone gesturing a hand toward Alhaitham. “You see, when we were still children. He walked up to me with a flower and asked me to marry him when we grew up.” 
Instantly piquing the attention of everyone at the table. 
“Pfft, there’s no way that happened.” Kaveh let out a hearty laugh, waving his hand as if dismissing that notion. 
“Best believe it, he ignored me for a week when I told him no. Only ‘forgiving’ me after I gave him extra sweets and promised to think about it again in the future.” You supported your face with one hand. 
“So I guess you are to blame for his apatheticness? Traumatizing him so young? I’m starting to sympathize with you, Alhaitham” Tighnari scoffed. 
“Well, I apologize for my shallow taste when I was a child. I used to dream of being carried off into the sunset in a white dress by my groom.” You dramatically sighed. 
You mockingly patted Alhaitham’s arm, feeling the solid muscle hidden beneath the fabric tense up then relax at your sudden skinship. 
“Before he became an absolute tree, this guy used to be half my size and weight. Which is why I rejected him back then, I didn’t want to crush my groom to death at our wedding.” 
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Just what were your intentions when you brought up that childhood memory? Alhaitham was racking his mind, trying to pinpoint a motive, too distracted to be bothered by the snickering that permeated throughout the table. 
Your hand, which still lingered on his arm, brought pulses of heat along his skin, the hair at the nape of his neck pricking up from the sensation. 
“On the topic of marriage, have you gotten any luck so far? Found anyone special yet?” Kaveh tucked his hands under his chin, as he rested his elbows on the crowded table. 
“Ugh, Kaveh, stop you sound like my fucking mother.” You brought your hand up to your temple. Alhaitham’s skin immediately craved your touch again. 
“I’m taking that as a ‘no’ then.”
“Obviously, gosh, every time I go to visit my parents it turns into an interrogation of why I didn’t come back with a ring on my finger.” You took another swig of your wine. 
“Is that so?” Kaveh prodded, wanting the conversation to continue. 
“Honestly, at this rate, I won’t be marrying for love. I’ll be marrying to shut my parents up.” 
“Oh? And what would a husband candidate need? To be able to carry you off to the honeymoon?” 
“Har har har, Kaveh, very clever.” 
“Okay, now seriously.” 
“Well, obviously he needs to get along with my parents.” 
Just earlier this evening Alhaitham had responded to a message from your mother, telling him how thrilled they were to receive his housewarming gift basket. Your mother wishing that more young people were as considerate as he was towards his elders. 
“And I would prefer someone attentive.” 
Alhaitham did not even have to think when ordering coffee for you. A mocha with two shots of expresso, oat milk, and an extra drizzle of chocolate syrup. When it gets closer to the holidays, you liked to add one pump of peppermint syrup.
He also takes note of how your words tend to get more graphic once there's alcohol in your veins. 
“What about income, you want a man with 6 figures? 7?” 
“Ha, if my husband made 7 figures I’d run him a warm bath with rose petals, the house will be spotless, and have dinner set on the table at 7 o’clock sharp. A girl can dream, it would also mean I won’t have to see that ugly bastard’s face again.”
Roses were nice. However, lavender was much better for baths to relax the muscles. After 3 years Alhaitham was confident that he could renegotiate his salary. He knew that your organization skills violently oscillates between an absolute disaster to professional house cleaning service depending on how stressed you were. Your cooking though was always guaranteed to be delectable, 7 pm just so happened to be his preferred time for dinner. 
Pause, wait a moment-
“Huh? Is your manager still bothering you? Isn’t he already married? What a sleazebag.” 
“Tell me about it,” you were rubbing your temples more aggressively. “I’ve thought about staking my pen through his hand if he tried to place it on my shoulder again.” 
“Would you like me to file a report to HR?” Cyno looked over at you with concern and sincerity. 
“Thank you, but I’ve already tried. They said until there was hard evidence of such behavior they can’t move on with an investigation.”
“Ugh, it’s always HR protecting the top dogs once again. Seriously, I’m not even from the same department but even I can feel that slimy gaze of his whenever he looks at you. Makes me want to burn my skin off in the shower, how you withstand that is beyond me.” Kaveh, rested one over his chair, dramatically making a face to show his disgust. 
Your manager, yes, it’s been noted on several performance reports that his productivity has been on the decline. Perhaps, an additional report from Alhaitham about the suspicious disappearance of funds under your manager’s supervision would warrant a full-scale investigation. 
That fool had his wife listed as his emergency contact, the ashen-haired man wondered if he would detail her husband’s harassment of young women in his department to her. 
“Let’s move on to a different subject, shall we? I’d be damned if my Friday night is ruined by thoughts of that man.” You rubbed your thumb along the stem of your glass, a nervous habit of yours he noted. 
And with that, the drinking continued to pour, as Cyno and Kaveh began a round of cards. If you weren’t so distracted by Kaveh’s theatrical whines of how Cyno should take an easy on him, you would’ve seen the look that promised no good on Alhaitham’s face. Its true intentions are well hidden behind a stoic face. 
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“You would think he would have learned his limit by now.” Alhaitham couldn’t help but scoff at his housemate. 
The blond was absolutely hammered, slurring his words as if they were some encrypted message. Upon seeing the state that Kaveh was in, everyone unanimously agreed to call it a night. Cyno and Tighnari supported him as Alhaitham went to the edge of a sidewalk to hail a cab. 
“Are you not going to ride in the same taxi as Kaveh? You’re both going to the same destination no?” You inquired, looking up at him after he gave the directions to his house and cash for the trip. 
“And what, get puked on during the ride? Kaveh is a big boy now, I’m sure he’ll manage. Besides…” His teal eyes quickly trailed up your legs.
Your stockings accentuating the shape of your legs as they beckoned his attention towards that pencil skirt with a cheeky leg slit. Not revealing enough to be chastised as unprofessional, but oh so tempting. 
“It’s more important that I see you get home safely. Now, come.” He turned his back towards you, heading in the direction of your apartment. Not wanting to be caught staring at you. 
Throughout the walk the two of you were silent, but it was a calm silence that can only develop from a place of comfort and familiarity. The clicking of your heels and the taps of his dress shoes filled the air between you and him like a metronome. Alhaitham made sure to remind himself to match his pace with yours, lest his longer legs pull him far ahead of you. 
--
Finally arriving at the entrance of your apartment complex, you swiped your keycard to unlock the heavy security door. Perhaps it was because of the alcohol in your system but it took all of your body weight to pry the metal door ajar. You felt a small hand on your back, stopping your pitiful attempt. 
“You’re going to strain your back, here, allow me.” Alhaitham’s voice was so close to your ear that you sore the vibrations tickled it. 
Stepping aside, you allowed Alhaitham to grasp onto the side of the door as he swung the door open as if it weighed nothing. He took hold of the handle, meeting your eyes as he gestured you to enter. You felt a bit stupid for struggling so much with the door in front of him, so you quickly shuffled inside as he followed right behind you. Strolling through the lobby you finally arrived at the shiny doors of the elevator. 
“Well, I guess this is goodnight.” You looked up at Alhaitham as you pressed the call button. 
You heard the ding of the elevator arriving… only for the doors to not open.
 You pressed the button again, it dinged again, and again… then the light of the elevator flickered out. Great, just your luck, the elevator decided to break down now of all times. Further embarrassing you in front of Alhaitham. Even though his face remains stoic as ever, he probably thinks your place is shabby. 
“Ha ha, what a way to end a night. I guess I’ll be taking the stairs… You should call a cab to get back now.” You cringed a bit on the inside, why did you sound so awkward? 
The stairwell door creaked open with all the grace of nails dragging down a chalkboard, the noise almost causing a headache to form as you begin your ascension up the gray stairs. 
Only for your 6 flight journey to be halted at the second step as you stumbled. Once again, those new heels you were so excited to wear decided to rear their nasty face. Luckily, you were able to catch yourself on the solid hand railing. Sighing to yourself, you prepared to clutch onto it like a lifeline for the rest of your trek. 
Suddenly your body felt weightless as two solid arms hoisted you up, and you felt your figure way too close to a warm, built frame. 
“W-what are you doing??” Your hands were flailing as you did not know where to place them. 
“Quiet, it’s past midnight and your voice is bouncing off the walls. Do you want a noise complaint?”
“That wasn’t my question! Haitham put me down I can walk!!”
“Oh really? Did you seriously not notice how many times you’ve been tripping and stumbling on your way back? It’s safer for me to just carry you, unless you prefer tumbling down the stairs.” 
“N-no! I-” 
Alhaitham seems to be ignoring your plight as your slaps on his shoulder and arms elicited no reaction. His firm grip on your body did not let up as he effortlessly ascended the stairs, even shifting your weight a bit when he went to open the door to your floor. 
You were stone-cold sober at this point but your face was hot and flushed when Alhaitham finally placed you back down on your own feet at your apartment door. 
You couldn’t muster up the courage to thank him let alone even look at him, in case he sees the obvious red tint on your cheeks. Keys fumbling in your hands as you tried to line it with the keyhole, a small click and turn of the brass knob has your apartment ajar. 
What do you do now? Is this the final goodbye for tonight? Should you take a cold shower to purge these overwhelming emotions? 
“Um… would you like to come inside for a glass of water?” You spoke those words before you could think it through. Great, you just prolonged your suffering, great job. 
“Sure.” And much to your dismay Alhaitham agreed. 
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His teal eyes lazily observed the plush throw pillows on your sofa along with the soft blanket hastily thrown over the back of it. Alhaitham could hear you bustling in the kitchen as you prepared a glass of ice water for him. 
In stark contrast to his own walls, yours was crowded with many photos like a timeline of your life. A soft smile tugged at his lips as he observed a photo strip taped onto the side of your college graduation portrait.
It was a cheap strip of laminated plastic from some mall photo booth, but your smile was radiant as you had one hand squeezing his face trying to get the stone-faced boy to crack a smile. 
“Here, it’s on the house.” You clinked the frosty glass onto the coaster in front of him. 
He felt the sofa dip a bit more as you plopped your body on the other side, letting out a content sigh, probably finally being able to feel your feet again. He knew those heels caused you great discomfort, but he almost wished for another glimpse. 
“Thank you.” 
Once more a comfortable silence encased the air between the two of you. Somewhere along the line, your hand found its way to his gray locks, gently running your fingers along his scalp. 
“What shampoo do you use, ‘Haitham? Your hair is always so soft and voluminous. I’m kinda jealous.” He heard the amused quip in your voice. 
He both yearned and despised whenever you pet his head. As your fingers continued to rake through his ash hair he couldn’t help the rush of blood that flowed south. Yet, a pang of annoyance was felt in his chest. ‘You still thought of him as a kid’ was the message he decrypted from your actions. 
“Whichever brand is closest to me at the store. Or whichever bottles Kaveh left in the shower.” Alhaitham leaned a bit more into your touch.
“Tsk, of course.” He could hear the smile in your voice. 
There was no end benefit to be gained from his feelings towards you. In fact, his life would’ve been so much easier if only his brain didn’t release dopamine the moment he hears the slightest mention of you. 
As a person who prides himself on his objectivity and factuality, he could not explain why you were an outlier that skews his rationality. 
The peaceful moment was shattered by the sudden pierce of your ringtone, the name that flashed across the screen caused Alhaitham’s eyes to narrow. 
Manager Kimiya
The manager who has been the source of your frustrations, evident by your conversation back at the bar. Why was he calling you this late? Alhaitham observed the grimace on your face as you quickly retracted your hand from his hair, picking up the phone as you excused yourself back to the kitchen. 
Why were you answering his call? 
You were speaking in a rather hushed voice, even with Alhaitham straining his ears to try and hear just what was so important to warrant a phone call so late at night. 
“Yes, of course…. No… I see… okay… yes… I understand… yes, goodnight to you as well.” 
Before Alhaitham could stop himself, he found his form behind yours at the kitchen counter as you finally ended your call. Frown present at the corners of your lips. 
“Why did he contact you this late?” 
Your body flinched in surprise. Ah, so you did not even notice his presence behind you. As his teal eyes stared down at your smaller frame, he could feel the clawing of a green-eyed monster tugging against the restraints Alhaitham so carefully bounded it in. 
“No reason, just work stuff… mostly.” 
Mostly? Alhaitham pushed down at the monster, trying to bottle the disgusting foreboding envy. 
“Why did you answer?” 
“I just told you, Haitham. It’s for work.” 
Alhaitham’s teeth ground against each other as he clenched his jaw. The monster was thrashing around violently. 
“You didn’t have to answer.” 
Your eyes closed in annoyance as you opened your mouth, a snarky reply ready to be thrown his way. Only for it to be stuck on the tip of your tongue as Alhaitham’s arms grasped the counter at either side of you. Pinning you between the cold granite top and his towering frame. 
“Are you interested in him?” There was a dangerous edge to his low voice. 
“Did you have too much to drink?” You whipped around in disbelief, annoyance dripping from your tone. 
Your face was very close to his, nose almost touching, breaths brushing against each other’s lips. 
“Answer the question.” His voice deepened further, a dark glaze over his eyes. 
“I don’t.” You narrowed your eyes at him, inching your face closer as if to prove a point. 
Alhaitham’s restraint of the beast began to slip. He needed a moment to grasp back onto it, to regain control. No, he could not wait any more, not one second longer.
 It was as if all the past decade's worth of pinning that kept him up at night came rushing out. Bursting through the walls that Alhaitham spent years building to contain them. 
It all rushed out in a messy, heated, and disgusting wave that washed over him and drowned his rationality as he slammed his lips into yours. Capturing the soft flesh into an all-consuming kiss. It was ugly, yet it felt so beautiful. So all consumingly beautiful. 
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Your brain was trying its best to regain itself as you recovered from the whiplash, you were kissing Alhaitham. His larger frame pushes your body up against the kitchen counter, cold stone pressing up against your burning skin. His tongue brushed against your lips hungrily, asking out of courtesy for permission. Your lips parted, allowing him access as your fingers tangled into the hair at the nape of his neck. 
It was almost animalistic the way he devoured the air from your lungs, your head began to float as pleasure trailed up your spine. You harshly tugged at his ashen hair to break the near-airtight lock your lips were tangled in. 
Barely getting two much-needed breaths in as your eyes connected with lustful teal before lips clashed once more. You tasted the sweet wine that still lingered on his tongue, the sweet taste of crossing a dangerous line. 
Alhaitham released your lips then dived back into trail kisses from your glistening lips to down your face and neck. A pleased whimper escaped as you titled your head to the side, allowing him more access to your sensitive spots. 
You now had two arms thrown around his neck, back arching as his large hands began to rub your thigh over the thin fabric of your stockings. The heat from his palms and the friction creeping up to your core. You felt the suction of his mouth against your neck causing you to press your chest more into his as you whined. 
Two hands firmly gripped onto each of your legs then harshly parted them, allowing for Alhaitham’s solid torso to press up against your pulsing core. You couldn’t help the slight roll of your hips against his abs, your poor cunt begging for a crumb of attention.
The air was too hot, tension too thick, Your skirt now all bunched up as his fingers skillfully unbuttoned your shirt. You replicated his actions as you clumsily groped at his chest to locate the buttons of the dress shirt, your senses graced by the plushness of his pectorals. 
It was animalistic the way Alhaitham was claiming your skin with his kisses, every now and then marking the tender flesh of your breast and neck. ‘Fuck, how can simple kisses feel so good’ was the thought running through your hazy mind, pressing his head more against you. A hardness making itself known against your neglected wetness. Excitement spiking up inside you. 
“Wrap your legs around me.” He commanded. 
You obediently did so, locking your ankles together behind his back, intentionally rubbing your cunt against his trapped erection. Alhaitham straightened his posture as he scooted your bottom off the counter, large hands digging into the flesh of your ass then firmly squashing your core against hardness. 
The sudden movement causes you to let out a gasp. He shot you a look, warning that he did not have the patience to be teased. 
Effortlessly he carried you into the bedroom, kisses still desperately being exchanged the entire time. Tossing you onto your messy sheets, he took a moment to admire how absolutely wrecked you looked. Cheeks flushed red, lips glossy from mixed saliva, eyes teary yet burning with desire. If you looked like this from simple kisses, he couldn’t wait for what you’d look like during the main event.
With you now on your back, more vulnerable, it gave him the opportunity to finally strip the blouse off your body, exposing more of your skin. Feeling a tug at his shirt. 
“You too…” 
When you asked so shyly with those pouty lips, how could Alhaitham refuse? A silent game began, as for every piece of clothing one shed, the other would follow. Your bra, his belt, your skirt, and his slacks were now littered across your floor. Hands greedily groping at each other's flesh, a large hand cupping your breast as your hand dipped to rub his bulge through his boxers. 
“Excited?” Your confidence was boosted when you felt a small wet patch on the fabric. 
“You’re one to talk.” He scoffed. 
Hand releasing your breast to grope the contour of your pussy through your ruined panties. Harshly pressing against your eager clit, a moan tumbled out of your mouth. Alhaitham dropped his head right next to yours, baritone voice against your ear,
“See, you even soaked through your stockings. Just how wet are you?” 
Long fingers began to trace along the slit of your cunt, lazily rubbing a circle on your clit before tracing back down. Your legs wanted to clamp down on his cruel hand but with his body pinning you down it was impossible. The message was clear, you were at his mercy. 
“What do you want?” 
A simple question he asked you, but your pride would not let you answer. That bastard knows what you want, your cunt was practically sobbing for something to be buried deep in it. But he still continued his slow, torturous movement, eyes locked on your expression. You faced away from him, unable to handle the intense glaze on your flushed face. 
“Eyes on me.” His other hand squished your cheeks as he turned your face back. 
Teal and orange eyes piercing into yours, you wanted to protest, he was being so mean. His perfect face only had a slight flush, while you were certain yours was a mess. Alhaitham must have sensed this as he nudged his thumb into your mouth, letting it rest against your pink tongue. 
“Come now, use your words. What do you want?” 
Pride be damned, the burning sensation between your legs overtook your reasoning as his other hand was now harshly circling your sensitive bud. 
“Y-you.” You moaned around his thumb. 
A smug look was now plastered on his handsome face, you weren’t sure if you wanted to slap it or pull him into another kiss. 
“Good girl.” Looping his fingers into the waistband of your stockings, harshly tugging them down the length of your legs. 
He definitely ripped them, but your brain was too busy processing the words he just called. 
Shifting your body more onto the bed, he pried your legs open, giving him a direct view of your drenched panties. Snapping back into reality and suddenly now worried about your modesty you reached a hand down as if to shield your desire from his observant eyes. A quick slap to your hand echoed through the room. 
“It’s a bit late to be embarrassed now.” The same hand pushed the ruined fabric to the side before a long, thick finger was thrusted inside. 
Your head jerked back at the sudden intrusion, barely being able to bite back a moan. Your aching cunt now had a taste of what it craved so desperately, but now it only craved more. Something thicker, longer, heavier. It wanted more even as Alhaitham slipped another finger in with minimal resistance. Scissoring the digits inside of you, exploring deep inside as slick drooled out. 
You tried to suppress your moans by biting down on the thumb that still lingered in your mouth. He sucked a breath through his teeth at your actions. 
“Be nice.” He ordered, tearing his thumb out of your mouth at the same time as his fingers from your cunt. 
His two fingers coated in your juices were then shoved into your gaping mouth, giving you a taste of yourself. Wordlessly you maneuvered your tongue against his fingers, cleaning the slick from the thick digits. His cock twitched when he felt you welcome his fingers deeper into the gummy walls of your mouth.
Alhaitham wanted to play with you more, to tease your clit and pussy until it was swollen and soaking the sheets below. However, right now, he did not have the patience as the length in his boxers raged angrily. Perhaps, if his plan goes well he can save that desire for another time. 
He chuckled to himself, this is what you do to him, you turn him into a man so consumed by lust he would not even stretch you out with good foreplay. Your cunt felt wet enough, he could see how drops of slickness were trailing onto the sheets, you were ready for him. Finally releasing his member out of its confinement, he let out a small hiss that the feeling of his sensitive head rubbing along your slick folds. 
“Wait,” you got up on your elbow as another hand pressed against his toro, halting his movement. 
You swiftly reached over to your nightstand, digging through to find the box of condoms. You took a foil package out, turning back to Alhaitham you handed it to him. You did your best not to look at his member, but it was hard to when it was just that intimidating. On lonely nights, there were times you imagined what that tall, buff body hid beneath the layers. 
‘Would the condom even go over it?’ you wondered as Alhaitham stiffly ripped open the foil. Fortunately, the condom was able to encase his length, you patted yourself on the back for getting the variety pack. 
“Heh,” Alhaitham’s hands grasped the sides of your hips. “You were prepared.” 
It could’ve been your imagination, but his calm tone felt forced. Almost as if he was angry, but Alhaitham never got angry at you. 
“What’s the ma- AH!”
The concern died in your throat when the entirety of his length was thrusted into you. Your cunt clenching around him, not wanting to let go of the deep satisfaction of finally being full. Alhaitham let a quiet moan through his clenched teeth, pulling out halfway then snapping his hips back into yours.
Your hands desperately latched onto your sheets, twisting and pulling the fabric to try and ground yourself. The stretch had you stumbling over your words, never had you felt this full.  He felt so heavy inside of you, deliciously dragging against your quivering walls.  
Alhaitham followed the intrusion with a few slow thrusts, the squelch of your cunt welcoming his length sounded through the heavy air. The grip on your hips turned unyielding as his pace shifted, his hips settling on a punishing pace against your poor masochistic cunt. Moans leaving your lips without regard for your neighbors. 
“Were you expecting this tonight?” He ended his sentence with an especially deep thrust. 
You barely heard him over the wet slapping of skin, mind focused on how good it felt when his tip rammed into that one spot. Alhaitham noticed how your cunt contracted when he hit a particular place, quickly angling his hips to strike your weakness again, then again, and again. Each time he did you would let out a cry, tongue lulling out of your mouth. At this point, his fingers are for sure leaving purple marks. 
“Is that why you were at the bar?” He continued. 
The green-eyed monster clawed its way up inside him, if he had not gone to the bar earlier by chance, would you have shown this sinful face to someone else?
A voice at the back of his mind called for him to take you lovingly, to slow his pace, to caress your face with his hands and kisses. But the voice of the beast whispered in his ear to ruin you, use you to further his own pleasure, to pound the shape of his length into you. Yes, perhaps if he did that then no other man could ever satisfy you. 
“So, who did you plan to take home?” 
He thrusted his tip deeper, you swore it was hitting your cervix now. Breast bouncing along with his violent pace. A thumb dug into your swollen clit suddenly causing you to throw your head back as your mind came dangerously close to the edge of sanity. A delicious tension begins to form in your core.
“Answer. The. Question.” Each word was followed by a harsh thrust, as your bud was pinched between his two fingers. 
“Ah- ah!” Was the only reply you could muster. 
Alhaitham stilled his motion deep inside of you, heavy, thick member resting right up against your cervix. Fingers now cruelly rolling your abused clit in its grasp, making your toes curl and back arch. 
He could feel your walls convulsing around him, begging for more of his punishing thrusts, not wanting the tension to dissipate. But he didn’t want to give that to you, not until you give him what he wanted. 
“Who. Who are you thinking of? Are you imagining being pinned down like this by them?” 
Your lust-hazed eyes looked into his with confusion, brain barely able to string together a coherent thought to process his question. As if he asked you the most elaborate philosophical question. 
Even with your mind nearly liquefied by the heat of pleasure and vision blurred from tears, the self-loathing in his eyes was obvious. Releasing the sheets from your iron grip, you cupped his face as you pulled him into a soft kiss. The first of the night. 
“Y-you ah!” You moaned against his lips. 
His hand stilled for a moment, then quickly regained its pace rolling the bundle of nerves. His lips chased after yours, shallowing your moans as he pinned your body more into the mattress. 
“Say it, confirm it.” A trail connecting your lips as he pulled away. 
“Alh-ah! Alhaitham!” 
A switch was flipped as his hips sprang back into motion, the push and pull rocking the bed as your hands found refuge on his broad shoulders. The tension only grew in your core with every blow against your weak spot in tandem with the circles he was grinding into your bud. 
“Alhaitham! A-ah Alhai-yes, right there!” Shamelessly moaning out his name like you did on those desperate nights with your own fingers. 
Your toes were curling painfully from the pleasure currently engulfing your entire body, your cunt full and hair a mess. Arching your body more into his solid figure as his unforgiving pace continued to abuse your grateful walls.
The wet slooshing of your slick as your hole welcomed his member over and over again no longer embarrassed. You were growing close, the ball of tension in your core was so close to snapping, you wanted sweet release so badly. 
“P-please! Ah! Please!” You begged for him to let you fall into cloud nine. 
Quickly understanding your plead, Alhaitham continued his the motion of his hips, making sure to strike that spot with more force as his thumb rubbed your clit faster. He dipped his head down to kiss along the edge of your tear stained face. The sensation of his teeth sinking into your neck was the catalysis that finally pushed you off the edge. 
Your body pressed itself taught against his, walls clamping down like a vise around his member as the orgasm ripped through your body. Strangled moans against his ears as your vision turned white. 
He removed his thumb from your clit, now even redder and swollen, as he bit more into your neck, the sensation of your walls trying to milk him dry almost brought him over as well. However, he couldn’t let it end so fast, not when he had fantasized about this moment for years. 
He forced himself to drag himself out against the tight grip of your walls, then used his body weight to thrust back into you to continue with his rhythm. He felt his own release approaching as he stared at how your eyes were rolled to the back of your head. 
‘Would you notice if I were to rip the condom off?’ He wondered as you were still on cloud nine, but your body still responding to his moves. 
‘Would you even care? Would you want it too?’ The thought of painting your walls in white and watching as your cunt drank up his thick cum filled him with a dark desire. 
He wanted to fill you with his essence, to claim you as fully his from the inside out, to steep into every fiber of your being. His hands found purchase on your hips again as he pinned your frame below him, thrusting deeper than he had ever before into you as he spilled himself into the latex.
His body shook against yours as he panted from the exertion. 
The creaking of the bed stopped as Alhaitham pulled back to press sweet kisses to your temple, coaxing your consciousness back to reality. Using his fingers to wipe away the tears that still leaked from your eyes, as your pupils came back into view. Returning from their trip at the back of your head. There was a moment of stillness, as pants echoed through the air, breaths overlapping and caressing another. 
You felt him shift, pulling his length fully out from your gummy walls. Your cunt clentched at the sudden emptiness. You watched as he grabbed a few tissues from your night stand, then proceeded to roll the filled condom off, disposing it into the paper. 
You shut your eyes, chest still heaving at the exertion you had just put your body through. 
The sound of condoms shaking against their cardboard box made your eyes snap back open. As you watched the ashen haired man shamelessly pull another foil package out of the container. 
Oh… The night was still young. 
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The bright and pitched chirping of the birds outside stirred you from your slumber. Oh god, your hips were so sore, you questioned whether or not you would make it out of bed. 
Two arms firmly encompassed your waist, pressing your back against the warm source of the pain in your hip. 
As much as you hated to admit it, Alhaitham looked angelic when he was asleep. Usual stone face now relaxed and soft, the sunlight drawing blurred shapes along his skin and hair through your curtains. 
You wanted to brush the hair out of his peaceful face, fingers reaching out then freezing as the reality of last night hit you. 
You two had crossed the bold line that was drawn in the sand, now standing the cold ocean of the unknown. The questions of what your relationship had turned into violently crashed into you like unforgiving waves as you feel yourself beginning to drown in self-doubt. 
Was this a one-time thing? A closeness you will never experience with him ever again? Was this the final chapter of the story of you and Alhaitham? Did you ruin years of trust and friendship?
 The questions began to become overwhelming, you needed to get up, to just get somewhere to clear your mind. 
Slowly your tried to shimmy yourself out of his firm hold, carefully trying not to rouse him from his slumber. Only for your plan to come crashing down as his arms tightened around you, halting your motion. 
“Stay.” An uncharacteristic softness present in his tone. 
You stilled your body, heart pounding so hard against your chest you were certain Alhaitham could feel it too. Just like how you could feel the rhythmic beating of his against your back. 
His deep breaths brushed against your neck as he buried his face into the crook. Tension now hung in the air, but who was going to be the first to break it? Mustering up all the courage you could gather, 
“Alhaith-”
“I found you a nuisance when I was first introduced to you.” He began. 
You felt your heart sink at his confession, but he continued. 
“The way you dragged me out to play, fed me snacks, and especially when you pet my head. I found it all annoying… It was annoying because it would cause me heart palpitations, my breath would hitch, and my face would flush. I thought I had caught a sickness from you, a sickness that made me addicted to your presence.” 
Your heart was now jumping as if it wanted to burst from your chest, he buried his face deeper into your neck. 
“Then one day I read a book that detailed my exact symptoms. Do you know what the diagnosis was? Love - an intense, deep affection for another person. That day when I proposed with that small weed, I discovered that I was in love with you.” 
You froze, almost not believing your own ears. 
“Well of course back then I did not meet your qualifications. I hoped that the sickness would disappear. No actually, I used to pray to gods I don’t believe in that they would take you out of my head, where you always seemed to haunt . They must have cursed me because as time moved on, my illness just got worse. It began to border on mania, madness. So, please listen.” 
He turned your body in his arms so that you were staring right into his eyes, a hopeful and sincere glimmer present in the saturated teal.  
“I love you, I adore you, I wish to wake up every morning to you in my arms just like this. I want to walk through life hand in hand with you. Your parents hold me in high regard. I will get a mocha with two shots of expresso, oat milk, and extra chocolate syrup every morning for you, I can even learn to make it. If you are worried about finances, if this company doesn’t agree to my raise by the end of two years I will search for another position that will.” 
His fingers intertwined with yours as he brought your knuckles up to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of your hand. 
“And I am confident in my ability to carry you no matter what wedding dress you dawn. So do I meet your qualifications now?” 
His teal eyes looked into yours, yearning for your answer. Your eyes were wide and lips frozen. You were waiting to wake up in your messy sheets alone, fully clothed, and for the other side of the bed to be cold. This had to be a dream, this couldn’t be real. 
However, the hot tears that clouded your vision and dripped down your cheeks felt too real to be an illusion. The look of adoration in his eyes was too genuine to be conjured up by your pitiful imagination. 
“Could we… Could we take this slowly?” You whispered, squeezing his hands. 
“Of course. I’ve waited for over sixteen years, I can wait a little longer.” 
You buried your flushed face into his chest, he let your wet tears soak into his skin as he kissed the crown of your head. Embracing each other as if the other could disappear.
“I love you too.” 
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Fin~
DON’T PLAGIARIZE, TRANSLATE, OR REPOST MY WORKS ON DIFFERENT PLATFORMS.
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