#when i see them they always run into my arms and it's my favorite thing in the world
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i2rizz · 2 days ago
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Daddy’s Little Girl
Fandom: Blue lock
Characters: Dad!Sae x Mom!Reader
He might slightlyy be out of character but cmon wont he love his little child?
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Sae was never one to show much softness. As a star athlete, he had always been known for his confidence, his cocky smirk, and his unshakable focus on his career. But one thing about Sae that only a few people knew was that underneath all the bravado, he had a deep love for his family, and that love took on an entirely different shape when it came to his daughter.
It was a rare Sunday morning, and Sae was at home. Normally, he’d be out on the field or doing something related to his career, but today he had promised you—his wife—that he would spend the day with your little girl, Mia. She was just shy of two, with a wild mop of dark hair, sparkling eyes, and an energy that never seemed to run out.
“Papa! Papa!” Mia’s little voice rang through the house as she padded toward the living room, her tiny hands clutching a stuffed animal to her chest.
Sae, who had been lazily lounging on the couch, shifted slightly and glanced over. His expression softened the second he saw her. Despite being the most competitive and intense player on the field, there was something about seeing his daughter that made him forget about everything else.
“Hey, princess,” Sae said, his voice dropping an octave, the usual cocky edge replaced by something more tender.
Mia squealed and ran toward him, her little feet stumbling as she got closer. “Daddy!” she said, her arms wide, ready to climb up into his lap. Sae didn’t hesitate. He opened his arms, and Mia scrambled up, snuggling into him with the kind of trust that only a child could have.
You stood at the door, watching the scene with a smile. It always made your heart swell seeing Sae like this, soft and completely in love with your daughter.
“Morning,” you said, walking in with a mug of coffee. “How’s my favorite girl and her daddy?”
Sae gave you a small smirk, his hand gently ruffling Mia’s hair. “We’re just fine, aren’t we, Mia?” he said, looking down at her.
Mia nodded solemnly, hugging her stuffed animal even tighter. “Papa,” she said, her voice a little quieter. “I want to go outside. Please.”
Sae raised an eyebrow but didn’t miss a beat. He stood up, cradling Mia against his chest as if she were as light as a feather. “Alright, let’s go outside, princess,” he said, his tone commanding but filled with warmth. “Let’s show Mommy just how fast I can run.”
You laughed, watching the two of them. There was no denying it—Sae was a natural dad, even if it didn’t fit the image most people had of him.
Outside, the sun was shining brightly, and the air was warm. You watched from the porch as Sae jogged a few steps away from Mia, who was standing still, her tiny hands clenched into fists as she stared up at him.
“Come on, Mia! You can do it! Run to Papa!” Sae called, his voice much softer than it was on the field, but no less full of encouragement.
Mia’s eyes sparkled as she glanced at you, then back at Sae. Without missing a beat, she took off toward him, her small legs carrying her as fast as they could. Sae knelt down just in time to catch her when she got close, lifting her up into the air with a delighted laugh.
You could hear her giggle as he spun her around. “You did it! You ran so fast, Mia!” Sae praised her, and you could hear the genuine pride in his voice.
It was moments like this that reminded you just how much Sae loved being a father. His intensity on the field was matched only by the care he showed at home, especially when it came to Mia.
After a few minutes of playing outside, Sae set Mia down and handed her a small soccer ball.
“Let’s see what you’ve got, Mia,” he teased, tossing the ball to her.
She grinned widely and kicked it with all the force her tiny legs could muster. Sae clapped in approval, giving you a look that made you roll your eyes.
“You’re teaching her to play already?” you asked with a chuckle.
“What?” Sae said, feigning innocence. “She has potential. I’m just showing her the ropes early.”
You shook your head, but you couldn’t help but smile. Sae might have been a little overzealous when it came to his career, but with Mia, he was a doting father. It wasn’t lost on you how much he loved being her dad, and you were certain that, even with his complicated, sometimes difficult personality, Mia was his soft spot.
As the day wound down, Sae was lying on the couch, exhausted from chasing Mia around and playing her favorite games. Mia was snuggled up against him, already asleep in his arms. Her head rested on his chest, her small breaths even and calm.
Sae looked down at her, his expression unreadable at first. Then, his gaze softened. You could tell he was thinking about how lucky he was, how much he loved this little family, and how he’d never give it up for anything.
“You’re a good dad, you know that?” you said, sitting down beside him.
Sae glanced at you, his face only slightly flushed from the afternoon’s excitement. “Yeah, I know,” he said, a small grin tugging at his lips. “I’m a girl dad. Can’t go around letting my little princess down.”
You smiled, resting your head on his shoulder. “She’s lucky to have you.”
Sae’s arm slipped around your shoulders as he gently kissed your forehead. “We’re lucky to have her,” he murmured.
And in that moment, with Mia nestled in his arms, you knew that this was everything Sae had ever wanted—even if he hadn’t always known it. He might be a professional soccer player, always chasing greatness, but when it came to his family, Sae was everything you could have hoped for—a loving, protective, and completely devoted girl dad.
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This is wholesome
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gravestrain · 12 hours ago
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gave you too much but it wasn't enough (qh43)
In which you wonder if your relationship with Quinn might end in death by a thousand cuts.
This is my submission for the eras tour fic challenge hosted by @wyattjohnston and @comphy-and-cozy! I am thrilled to be a part of this event. I received DBATC, and if you know me you know any kind of angst is not my wheelhouse, but I was thrilled to get this challenge and try to create something angsty. It will never be unresolved in my world but hopefully this does the trick :) 2.5k words, fem reader, no warnings that I know of, not proofread.
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When Quinn was named the captain of the Vancouver Canucks, you had never felt so proud.
Being with Quinn for two plus years at the time, you were over the moon to see the love of your life, your favorite person in the world, being given such an honor, an honor he worked so hard for, an honor you know he deserved. Quinn was one of the most dedicated people you've ever met. With that dedication of course, comes time. Quinn dedicated countless hours to improving his game, practicing with his teammates, working out in the gym, going on runs, anything he could do to be the best he could be, he was doing it.
Under the moonlight, as you and Quinn celebrated his accomplishment, he promised you that he wouldn't stray away. That his commitment to the team wouldn't outweigh his commitment to you. To being a loving partner. A companion. However, when you woke up, stretching your arm out to feel an empty bed yet again, despite knowing that it couldn't have been much past 7 am, you wondered what went wrong. What happened to cause those promises to crumble. His words to be empty, lifeless. Void of meaning. When did you and Quinn become a couple that told each other lies? Told each other things just because the other person wanted to hear them, not because they genuinely intended to fulfill them.
It was the start of Quinn's second season as the Canucks captain. At first, you thought it was too good to be true. Quinn was thriving in his new role, yet still being the perfect partner. Attentive and on time, compassionate and loving. Now, that version of Quinn is a distant memory, mocking you as you think of him.
It started after the holidays in Quinn's first season of being captain. You chalked it up to post holiday stress and all star weekend buzz, maybe even trade deadline drama. Then the all star game passed, and even the trade deadline. Shortly after you started blaming it on the playoff push, then the playoff loss. And now here you were in November, searching for answers, trying to figure out what happened to the love of your life who turned into a stranger right in front of your own eyes, with nothing you could do about it but watch it happen.
You got yourself ready for work, looking around in the bathroom, on the bedside table, and eventually the kitchen to see if maybe Quinn left you a note, a cup of coffee in your favorite travel mug, a bagel from your favorite bakery around the corner, a sign of his love, signs that he used to never leave the house without showing. Just as you thought, there was nothing. You couldn't even remember the last time you felt Quinn kiss your forehead before he left for God knows what. Another workout, another two mile run after the three miles he did on the treadmill, or locking himself in his office watching film.
Work came and went that day, taking the long way home, dreading going home to an empty house. You thought it would be worse trying to interact with the stranger you lived with, but the silence, the emptiness, the sterile, unwelcoming cold was always worse. You stared up at the traffic lights, wondering if others saw just how foolish you felt. Writing lines to a story that was long over. Grasping on to the book, hoping for a surprise ending, one that would make everything worth it.
To say you were surprised to see Quinn's Porsche in the driveway was an understatement. Usually on practice days he didn't get home until well after 6 pm. You unlocked the front door, not expecting much. Just because he was home, doesn't mean he wasn't locked up in his office, taking notes from last night's game. A game that you never bothered to go to anymore. You knew the other WAGs missed you, people speculated about your absence on the internet, always cruel and judgmental. You couldn't bring yourself to go. You had learned to despise hockey for taking Quinn from you.
You opened the door and were surprised to see Quinn in the kitchen, grabbing a snack. Quinn looked as surprised to see you as you were, almost like he didn't know where you were, or if he even remembered that you lived there. Quiet "hi's" were exchanged, Quinn leaving a soft kiss on your cheek then awkwardly brushing past you to go towards the fridge.
"I thought we could have chicken and pasta for dinner tonight. It sounded good on my way home, I hope that's okay," Quinn muttered out, but already getting a pot of water for pasta ready, as though it didn't matter what you truly wanted. "That's okay," you offered back. "I'm gonna go sit down and read my book. If you need me, just holler." You offered and Quinn gave a nod in response. You wanted to grunt and groan under your breath. How could this be okay with him? It was as though you didn't know him, despite him knowing everything about you.
You tried to distract yourself with your book, but frustrated tears welled up in your eyes. You wiped them away aggressively, not wanting Quinn to see you cry. He couldn't muster up simple greetings, and an I love you would be almost toxic coming out of his mouth. He didn't care anymore, that much was obvious. So why should you?
You didn't know how long time passed, but it was enough time for Quinn to come over with a plate of dinner, unaware of your state. Your heart swelled. Most days, you had been eating dinner at the table, the memories of the two of you loved up on the couch, enjoying your meal and watching your latest binge watch were long gone. It seemed that Quinn was looking for one of those nights, until he saw your tears. His face dropped, setting your plate down and kneeling in front of you.
"Everything okay, sweetheart?" He asked, trying to get you to meet his eyes. You shook your head. How could he be so oblivious? "Are you serious?" You ask and Quinn's expression changed, like you had hurt him. "What do you mean by that? Why would I not be serious?" he asked, causing you to shake your head. "Quinn, things haven't been right between us for months. You leave me everyday without saying goodbye or even kissing me goodbye, you act like spending time with me is the worst thing in the world. I never go to games anymore because I resent hockey for taking you from me. When you were named captain, I was so proud of you I could explode. Now I can't even bare to be in the hockey setting because it reminds me of everything you chose over me. Quinn, I don't even know if you love me anymore." You took a breath after getting it off your chest, but at the same time a wounded gasp came out of Quinn's mouth, like he was a wounded animal.
"You think I don't love you anymore? How could you think that?" he asked, clearly hurt by what you had said. "What else do you want me to believe, Quinn? I can't even remember the last time you told me you loved me. And beyond that, that you ever even showed that you might. I feel like I live with a stranger. You can't honestly tell me that you have felt satisfied in this relationship. That you feel that we love each other to the fullest, that we love spending time together. I haven't felt confident that you feel that way in a long time." At this point you both had tears in your eyes, Quinn feeling devastated by what he was hearing.
Of course Quinn wasn't 100% satisfied with your relationship. He wasn't delusional enough to believe that everything was perfect. He knew that hockey had been his number one priority lately, and he had been trying to make that not be the case.
"Baby, I know I haven't been putting you first lately, and I'm sorry for that. I truly am. But I feel like it's only been this way since the start of the regular season." This had you scoffing immediately. "You don't seriously believe that. Quinn, I could say I have felt this way on and off since January." This caused another hurt gasp to leave Quinn's lips. "Why didn't you say something..." he trailed off, hurt, but he knew the answer.
"I shouldn't have to beg you to love me, Quinn. I shouldn't have to tell you that you have been neglecting me, neglecting us. If you truly can't see what's been going on, I don't know how I can explain it to you. If you think that this relationship has been satisfactory for both parties, I can't change your mind of that. But I won't be treated like this any longer. I think we should spend some time apart." Quinn backed up as soon as the suggestion came out of your mouth, looking like he had been shot.
"You don't mean that, you can't" he gasped. "Quinn, I'm not saying I want to breakup. If I didn't believe this was salvageable, if I didn't believe you could fix this, I would just say I wanted to break up. I believe we can fix this, but I think some time apart would do us good. For us both to figure out what we're looking for and what we truly want. If we find that this is still what we want, that's great, I believe that we will make it work. But this, this... arrangement, this isn't working. I know you seem shocked and hurt, but I know you don't believe that this is working for both of us, or honestly either of us."
"I'll go stay with Petey, I don't want to be in your way," Quinn suggested and you shook your head. "It's okay, really. I can go stay with Brock's girlfriend. Since she lives by herself it won't be awkward for any of us. I do believe we can make this work Quinn, I just don't think we can do it in these conditions." You put your hand on his cheek and his face softened, leaning into your touch.
"Tell me how to fix it, please, I'll do anything," he begged, tears steadily streaming down his face. "I can't tell you that, Quinn. I want you to figure out. To understand where I'm coming from, and want to work to fix it. I haven't been perfect either Quinn, we can both work on this. I shouldn't have to tell you that spending time together once a month isn't enough. I don't know how it can be enough for you, either. If that's okay with you, then this just isn't going to work."
"I'll fix it baby, I promise, I'll do anything." he whispered, almost defeatedly but feeling much better. "I believe you, baby. I do."
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The flowers started on Mondays. Each Monday, a different bouquet of beautifully arranged flowers arrived at your office. The message was also different each week but it always ended the same way: " I love you, I believe in us." You texted Quinn every week when the flowers came to let him know you got them and to send your thanks. After four weeks of flowers, you were sitting in the front room of Brock's girlfriend, Bella's, apartment, getting stuff done on your computer on a chilly Saturday afternoon. A knock on the door sounded, causing you to pause your work. You had been staying with Bella long enough that you felt comfortable getting the door. Not to mention Bella liked to sleep in super late on weekends, meaning you would be the only one to even be available to open the door.
Your heart sank to your toes as you looked through the peephole, seeing Quinn. He looked different. If your gut was right, he looked tired, a far away look in his eyes, almost as though he missed you as much as you missed him. You didn't want to believe it, wary of getting your heart broken. He was holding something in his hands, fidgeting with it as he waited for the door to open.
"Y/N, hi," Quinn whispered out, taking a step towards you. "Hi Quinn, it's great to see you. How have you been? Would you like to come inside?" You asked, causing him to shake his head. "I can't stay, but thank you for offering," he stopped himself, wanting to keep boundaries in between you two in order for you to be most comfortable.
"It's been a while since we've seen each other, and I wanted to come ask you something. I was hoping you'd like to come to the game tomorrow night? I was hoping this would be enough time, but if not it's okay." His voice was shaky, unsure, almost like he was scared of your response. "I'm not sure, Quinn. Won't it be weird that I'm there? I don't want to cause any drama." You said apprehensively. You were also nervous of what that step in your relationship would be.
"There would be no drama at all, babe. You could just sit with Bell in the stands if you would prefer that, but I know the WAGs have really been missing you. I heard Millsy's daughters have been waiting for you to paint their nails on intermission again," he joked, causing you to smile. His heart melted at the smile on your face, finally feeling fulfilled, that he made you happy.
"I'll be there, Quinn. You can put me in the box. Don't worry about parking, though. I'm sure I can catch a ride with Bella." You both smiled, joyful at the step in the right direction for the both of you. "I can't wait."
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For all the time you had spent at Canucks games, you never thought you would be so nervous about what to wear, but here you are. Finally, settling on a stylish Canucks long sleeve with no distinction of Quinn on the shirt, paired with dark jeans and sneakers.
Quinn played a great game, getting a goal and an assist, the Canucks winning 3-1. You were ecstatic. Being back at the games, with your friends, cheering on Quinn, just felt right. It felt like where you were supposed to be. When you met Quinn after the game, he couldn't help himself either, jogging up to you and wrapping his arms around you, lifting you up off the ground. "Quinn!" you exclaimed, laughing out loud. "You did so good!" You laughed as he set you back on the ground. "It's because you were here, my good luck charm." He mused, causing you to blush.
Before he could stop himself, Quinn asked: "come home with me?" Your breath shortened, definitely not expecting that to come out of his mouth. "Are you sure?" You asked him, heart racing at the idea of going home with Quinn, truly where you belonged. "I would want nothing more."
It felt at times that no matter how much you gave to Quinn, it would never be enough. But as you both grew and learned more about yourselves, you both knew that all you could give would always be enough for the both of you.
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whatifitis · 11 hours ago
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♡ Nine Lives - LH 44 ♡
Summary: Movie night with you and Lewis leads to yet another silly love declaration from the both of you.
Author's Note: This was a request that asked for a fluffy Lewis fic so here is my attempt at some extra fluffy stuff! Hope y'all like it. Feedback is always appreciated <3
WC: 964
CW: fluff, this whole thing is basically the nine lives song from webkinz so there's no originality i'm sorry 😭, roscoe mention
It was movie night and it was your turn to pick the movie. Well, it’s been your turn to pick the movie. Usually, you and your boyfriend, Lewis, will alternate who gets to pick the movie to make it fair, but the past 5 times, it’s been Lewis’ choice. 
You pointed out the other day that it was meant to be your turn since you hadn’t been able to pick one in ages, to which Lewis argued that the both of you had been mutually agreeing on movies which is a flat out lie. While you do enjoy watching his favorite movie Cool Runnings, it was getting to a point where you got annoyed every time the opening scene played. 
The alternate choice Lewis would give sometimes was Frozen and you could no longer let it go and love was soon gonna be an open door that would be shut in Lewis’ face. 
After some bickering, Lewis finally let you pick the next movie. You had decided that you were going to make him watch your favorite movie of all time, The Three Lives of Thomasina. You had watched the film for the first time as a child, and since then, it always brought you a sense of joy and comfort. 
The two of you prepared for your movie night by doing the usual, setting up a fort built out of couch cushions, pillows and blankets. Tonight you added some fairlights for some extra flair and in celebration of it finally being your turn to pick the movie. You had also gone out earlier in the day and bought a ton of snacks just for tonight, as well as ordering some takeout. 
Once everything was set up, Lewis, Roscoe, and yourself got settled and comfortable in your little fort. You and Lewis immediately dug into the food as you clicked play on the tv. Don’t worry about Roscoe though, you had prepared a special, vegan meal for him so that he was included in the family activity. 
When the opening scene began, Lewis was already, jokingly, sighing exasperatedly, rolling his eyes an excessive amount of times. His arms folded across his chest with a playful smile playing on his lips every time he complains about the movie, side eyeing you from time to time to watch your reactions to his antics. 
Half way through the movie, you and Lewis are cuddled up and the food has been run through. As the movie continues playing, a question pops into your head. 
“If you were a cat, would you live them all with me?” you asked curiously. 
Lewis looks down at you, brows furrowed a bit as he’s unsure where this question came from. Then he smiles, loving all the times you would ask him questions like this. They were just silly questions asked for fun and out of curiosity, but they were also ways he could profess his love to you in new ways. 
“If I had nine lives, I would live them all with you. We would go on more adventures than we do now. I would take you on a trip around the world on a sailing ship. It would be a simple boat built just for two and we’d set sail, just me and you. We'd go round and when we’d reach our destination, we’d start over. You’re the only one for me, darling. Can’t you see?” he tells you. 
“I can. For life two, we could build a home with lots of kids and garden gnomes. We would listen to the pitter-patter of feet running up and down the street.” you tell him, eyes sparkling like the night sky that shines over the two of you through the window.
“For number three, it’d be like now. I’d work a lot because that’s what I was always taught. But we’d buy all the things we’d need for a healthy family. And for life four, you would read because you love to. You’d have your own library that I built just for you. Every now and then, I’d look for your face among them.”, he rubs his thumb on the bare skin of your hip and continues, “For lives five, six, seven and eight, we would try and alleviate the sounds of suffering and the cris of hunger, pain, and forlorn eyes. We’d help people everywhere.”
Your heart is beating warmly in your chest, being reminded of all three love you and Lewis share for not only each other, but for the world that brought you two together. 
With a deep breath, you finish the story, “For life nine, we would be somewhere on a pair of rocking chairs. We’d be happy, slightly grey. If you’re lucky, I’ll bake a cake. And when I wish on a star, I will wish for nine more lives, cause nine lives would not be enough with you.” tears are now streaming down your face. 
Lewis holds the side of your face, wiping away the tears with his hand. He pulls you close to him and presses a kiss to your head, then moving to capture your lips in a soft and comforting kiss. He keeps you there for a moment, reminding you that you are his and he is yours. When you pull apart, Lewis is looking at you with admiration and love in his eyes. 
“You are my one and only love.”
Roscoe lets out a little whine, to which you and Lewis laugh at. 
You sit up and pull Roscoe to sit between Lewis and yourself. 
“How could we forget you, Roscoe? You’re the best thing to ever happen to us. My beautiful, beautiful boy. You would join us for all our lives as well, cause we wouldn’t want to do it without you.”
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jsmelodies · 3 days ago
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Cassian thought it was supposed to be simple. 
Find the witch in the woods.
Convince said witch to give him Ataraxia.
Rescue the princess from the dragon guarding her tower, with said sword, from said witch.
If only the damned witch stopped getting in his way.
Read here on ao3
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3
And she's done, folks! Thank you to everyone who's read this/interacted with it in any way. It feels so strange to say goodbye (for now), but I had to finish a multi chapter one of these days.
**Slightly nsfw chapter**
Chapter 4
Being wrapped in Cassian’s arms was her favorite thing, she decided.
He held her close, not letting her out of his grasp as they slept, his breath tickling her where it hit the crown of her head. He was all muscle beside her, his chest slightly hairy and soft to the touch, and she nestled closer, tucking her head beneath the crook of his chin.
She wasn’t used to cuddling after sex. Not in this capacity, anyway. At most, she’d stay for an hour or two, just until both parties came down and their heart rates settled, but her pride always forced her to leave.
She didn’t want to leave Cassian’s arms.
When they’d finished, and Cassian finally separated himself from her, he cleaned her up with such care that she’d almost teared up. Then they’d settled together under the blankets, his arm over her waist while their legs tangled together. Her chest pressed against his, and they’d fallen asleep that way.
Peaceful. That was the right word for it. The slow movements of his fingers on her back, and feeling his heavy breathing beside her—it was everything she didn’t know she needed until she had it.
She felt the moment he woke, when he shifted and let out a long, deep sigh.
“Nes,” he said, with a voice hoarse from sleep, his hand playing with the ends of her hair.
She tilted her face back to look at him, and his eyes blinked open, with the adoration she’d quickly become used to directed at her, mouth curving as he remembered where he was.
“Hey,” she said softly, running her thumb over his cheek.
Cassian’s stubble was rough on the pads of her fingers. In a split second, she decided this was how she wanted to wake up every morning from here on out: across from Cassian’s lazy grin, the warmth of his arm seeping through her as he reached over the crook of her waist. 
She didn’t stop him from leaning down, connecting his lips with hers. He swallowed her whimper with his kiss, and delved his hand into her hair. His tongue lingered on her lips, and she opened for him.
He groaned against her mouth, the sound reverberating through her bones, and his knee slid between her legs. Parted them.
The movement of her hips, as she aimed to get closer, had him pausing. He forced himself away. Forced himself to look, without giving into that raw, physical need.
“We need to talk about it,” he said, resigned. “Before we go again.”
“Do we?”
“Yes, princess.”
She had to admit he was right. Cassian deserved the truth—all of it. “What do you want to know?”
His mouth opened, and closed, as if he wasn’t quite sure what he wanted to say. Eventually, he settled on, “Why?”
Why.
Why do any of it? She knew that was what he was really asking. “Because I tend to be very, very overprotective of my sister.”
Cassian lifted an eyebrow. “And that’s all?”
Her pulse fluttered. Not out of nervousness to tell the truth, exactly, but because she’d grown used to not sharing her secrets. Secrets that, as her betrothed, Cassian should know. “A lot of people pass through here,” she explained. “I’ve become quite skilled at determining who is good at heart, and who isn’t.”
He waited silently. Patiently. Letting her tell the truth of it at her own pace, face filled with understanding.
“These woods can bring out the worst in a man. More often than not, that’s what I see.” She stroked his cheek tenderly. Fondly. “But in rare cases, it can bring out the best in one, too.”
He clutched that hand in his own, bunching it and bringing it to his mouth for a kiss. “Which category do I fall in?” he asked, the lines of his face crinkled in amusement.
“What do you think?” she said, chuckling. “I have seen your heart, Cassian, and I know that it’s good. And perhaps, selfishly, I kept it for myself.”
She watched it all soften, the look on Cassian’s face. “I’m glad that you’re the one to hold it,” he whispered. “And I think that you are allowed to be selfish, when it comes to love.”
She’d guard it fiercely. And from the look that Cassian gave her, he knew that truth as well.
“Why did you leave?” he asked. “All those years ago. People speculate, and I suppose the witchcraft has something to do with it. But…why?”
“Because my mother deemed me dangerous.,” she said, looking away and drawing circles on his arm. “There was another witch here, once. I apprenticed under her for a time, until she passed away. It’s just been me ever since.”
“How long?” 
“Five years.” Right before she met Tomas. But she wasn’t quite ready to talk about that yet.
“You could have come back,” he said.
Nesta shrugged. “Enough people called my kind monsters,” she said. “And there is a kingdom’s worth of knights who would see any kind of monster killed. So why would I?”
He took her chin, tilting it back up to meet his gaze. She saw guilt, of all things, flash across his eyes. “It must have been lonely,” he said quietly.
“You have no idea,” she said.  “I love it out here. It’s my home. But sometimes, I couldn’t help but wonder if there was more to life than this.” She opened her mouth to continue. “I…”
She tried to find the words, but they didn’t come to her. Instead, water blurred in her eyes, a tear escaping onto her cheek.
“Hey,” he said, wiping away that stray tear. “You don’t need to tell me all of it today. You know that, right?” he said. “We have a lifetime ahead of us. When you’re ready, I’ll listen to whatever you need. You can throw whatever you need at me; I won’t break.”
For that, she was grateful. 
He got close again, chest going flush against hers. “And I don’t ever want to make you cry, Nesta,” he said against her lips.
She closed the distance, kissing him again. He had no qualms about doing it back, and he peppered them across her cheek, her nose, her forehead.
He traced her curves with his hand, from her breasts down to the small of her waist. “I’ve wanted to touch you like this for days,” he admitted. “From the moment I saw you, I wanted you in my bed. Is that so bad?”
A part of her softened at that. “You can have me whenever you want.”
He chuckled. “No. I didn’t mean that. Well, yes that. But I meant…this.” 
He established what he meant by resuming his earlier attentions. He kissed the crook of her neck, and slid his hand over her back.
“Getting to know what your skin feels like, when it’s been a long day, or week, or month, and to be able to just be with you.” He kissed a freckle on her shoulder. “You are everything to me, Nesta.”
“Cassian,” she said. Perhaps it was a bit desperate.
His voice was guttural as he said, “Come here.” He parted her mouth with a press of his lips, tilting her head up and holding it steady with his hand. 
He lifted up onto his elbow as he kissed her relentlessly, moving to pin her beneath him on the mattress.
But that wouldn’t do. Her promise to herself from earlier came to mind, of what she wanted to do to him, and she halted him with a hand to his chest.
Then, she retreated from the bed. Stood at the foot of it. He watched her hungrily, eyes silently questioning why she wasn’t beside him.
“Come here,” she said, crooking a finger.
Cassian crawled. He made his way towards her, lifting himself onto his knees when he made it to the bottom of the bed right before her. 
“Come back to bed,” he whispered. 
“I will,” she promised. She traced her finger down the side of his face, over his strong chin. “Sit down for me.”
He leaned away, the skepticism clear on his face, but he did as she asked anyway. He swung his knees out from beneath him and sat on the bed.
His face was as hard as stone as he looked down. Up. Over the peaks of her breasts, which he took in his hands, to her hips, and all the way back to her eyes.
His hands slid down, moving to cup the bottom of her thighs. To pull her onto his lap, which she couldn’t find it in herself to stop.
She was unable to tear her gaze away from his cock that had gone hard again, jutting upwards between their stomachs. She wrapped her hand around it, tightening her grip until his head fell back with a groan.
“Nesta,” he rasped, letting her do as she wanted with him. His throat bobbed, and she leaned in to kiss it, relishing in his muscles tightening beneath her.
It wasn’t enough. She leaned forward and kissed him once on the lips before releasing him and kneeling on the ground before him.
His eyebrow raised in amusement. “What do you think you’re doing, Nes?”
“I’d think that’s rather obvious,” she replied, leaning down until her lips were right over the head of his cock. 
Her hands ran up the inside of his thighs until her right one gripped his base, giving it a gentle squeeze. She nearly got her tongue on him before his hand was wrapped in her hair at the base of her skull, pulling her head away from him with a simple tug.
“Oh, no you don’t,” he said, snarling slightly. “Princesses don’t get on their knees.”
Cassian pulled her up to his level, likely assessing what, exactly, he wanted to do with her.
“I should return the favor, shouldn’t I?” she asked, her tone light. “You’re making me think you don’t want my mouth on you.”
His gaze intensified. “I never said that.”
“That’s too bad for you then, isn’t it?” she teased. “Poor Cassian, not getting what he wants–”
He silenced her with another tug to her hair, fingers tightening until the feeling bordered on pain. His hazel eyes glinted as she saw him formulating his plan.
“Such a brat,” he muttered. “Fine, sweetheart. You want to suck my cock so bad? You’ll do it from your throne.”
She was about to ask him what he meant by that until he dragged them both back across the bed. Cassian laid on his back, pulling her thighs over him so they rested on either side of his face. 
“Sit.”
He used his demanding tone that she rarely heard, the one that sent shivers down her spine, and forced her down so that she hovered right over his face.
Holding her leg steady with one hand, he used the other to push her down so her mouth was right in front of his cock, his instructions clear. 
The last thing he said before pulling her onto his face completely was, “I assume you know what to do.”
***
He had her one more time on that bed before they pulled themselves off of each other. After she took him in her mouth, she’d laid down on his chest until she felt him pressing against her once more.
All it took was one amused glance, one twinkle of her eye, for Cassian to flip them over, snarling as he held her hands over her head.
And the rest…Well. She supposed if they had a lifetime together, she could grow used to wasting hours in bed, feeling Cassian move in her.
If she had to.
The sun was fading, flickering through the leaves of the forest when they finally cleaned themselves off and managed to get their clothes back on.
“We should go back,” she said. “I imagine my father will want to have a ceremony in the next few days.”
And she wanted it, too. Even if she hadn’t just brought him to her bed, she’d want him at her side sooner rather than later anyway. Permanently.
She’d fought her feelings towards him since she met him, and she was tired of it. She wanted the entire world to know that this was the man she had chosen, that he was the man she loved.
“It’ll be strange going home,” she said, looking out the window to the field outside the cottage. 
A part of her would always love it here. It was her home when nowhere else seemed to be, and for that, she would always be grateful.
But everything didn’t always have to stay the same.
“I can see why,” Cassian said, agreeing. “It’s nice here, though. We don’t have to stay at the castle, not if you don’t want to.”
“I like it here, too,” she said, looking back at him. “Maybe we could come back here, some of the time.”
“We will.” Cassian extended a hand, waiting for her to take it. “Ready?” he asked.
With one last glance around the cottage, she slid her hand into his. The smile he gave her was warm, bright, as her fingers wrapped around his, and he guided her towards the door.
Something pulled at her. Not at her heart, but the source of her power—
Nesta stopped, and put her other hand to his chest. “Wait.”
Someone was here. The magic of her wards alerted her to their presence. The sensation was neither glowing and warm like with Cassian, or chipped and cold like Kallon and the others. It was…perfectly neutral. 
“We need to start heading back, sweetheart,” he murmured. “It’s going to get dark soon.”
“No, I know. But someone’s here.”
She moved to the window, looking to see who had ventured in. At the very perimeter of the fence were two knights, donned in leather armor that allowed them to move freely.
The wards let them through, and they tackled each other to the ground just as they got beyond the fence.
“I got here first, asshole,” the dark haired one said, climbing on top of the other red haired knight.
“I don’t think that makes much of a difference,” the one on the bottom said with a sneer.
“Do you know them?” she asked over her shoulder.
“That’s Sir Azriel,” he said, pointing at the dark haired one. “And the other is Sir Lucien.”
“And? Tell me of them.”
She looked back, to where his eyebrows had bunched on his forehead. “They’re both good,” he seemed to settle on. “I’m partial to Az because he’s like a brother, but they’d both be good to her. And they’re both fond of her, I know.”
With any other man, she would not have believed the words so easily. But he was Cassian, and she found that she trusted his input, and valued the truths that he spoke. So she turned on her heel, grabbing Ataraxia as she made her way outside.
They were too consumed in their brawl to notice her approach. “You want to marry Elain?” she asked.
Both of the men straightened up in her presence, as if they were two boys caught with their hands in the cookie jar.
The one with red hair—Sir Lucien—cleared his throat, and said, “Yes, my lady.”
She was silent for a few moments, giving the pretense that she was deliberating. Then, she threw Ataraxia onto the grass.
“Figure it out amongst yourselves,” she said. “I have somewhere to be.”
***
It didn’t take long for the two knights to scramble off, dashing back into the forest. When she could no longer see them, Cassian joined her outside, and they once again prepared to depart.
Nesta patted Ruby’s nose as Cassian tacked her up. She admired the way he bent over, how a few stray curls made their way free from how he had it haphazardly tied behind his head.
Ruby pushed into her hand, looking for treats. “She likes me better,” Nesta said.
“She does not.” Cassian ducked under her neck, fixing the saddle on the other side. “Speaking of pets, what’s Bryaxis going to do while we’re gone?”
“Oh, I don’t feed him,” Nesta said. “There’s nothing I can catch that he’d be that interested in, anyway.”
Cassian visibly shuddered, looking up from where he tightened one of the leather straps. “Your cat freaks me out.”
“Again, not a cat.”
“Yes. He’s made that perfectly clear, thanks.”
She chuckled. “He likes you, at least. If he didn’t, he would’ve torn you up ages ago.”
“Reassuring.” Cassian stepped back, patting Ruby’s neck as he joined her. “I’m not going to ask how you came into the possession of a beast that takes the form of a common house cat, because I have a feeling it’s a long story.” He kissed her cheek. “And one that you’ll tell me eventually.”
She thought of the story—of how she’d tracked down the beast in the darkest parts of the forest. Offered him the hearts of the cowardly men who trespassed and overstayed their welcome, and a warm roof over his head, in exchange for the protection that came with his fangs and claws.
A symbiotic relationship, if she had to put a word to it.
“You would be right.”
Cassian merely waved it off, and motioned for her to step to the horse’s side.
He placed her on the saddle, leading the two of them through the forest by the reins. He kept his hand at his sword, as if expecting some threat to appear. She wondered if he was always this way when he ventured through the trees, or if it was different, now that she sat on Ruby’s back.
His more than occasional glance over his shoulder confirmed there may have been some merit to the latter.
When the forest cleared, he joined her in the saddle. She felt the warmth almost immediately as Cassian pressed up against her back, drawing her closer to him with an arm around her waist. Her body relaxed into his, letting him steer Ruby closer to the castle gates. Towards home.
Ruby ran through the grass, and Cassian kept his grip firmly around her, not willing to let her go. And all too soon, they passed underneath the first of the gates, towards the edges of the city.
Knowing he was behind her gave her the confidence to bring down her hood, letting the fabric down to her shoulders.
The sun streamed down, a delicate warmth in the setting light as they walked the cobblestone streets. There were women unclipping the last of their laundry from the lines and putting them into baskets, and the children in the streets paused in their playing, peering at her while Cassian clicked his tongue, urging Ruby along.
Some of the kids ran off, returning with their friends, their mothers, their fathers.
Slowly, the pool of people became larger, thicker, as they emerged from their homes to see who Cassian brought home.
They loved him, she realized. The children watched him with awe, at the show of strength he displayed. They looked up to him.
There was no one better suited for it.
“Nervous?” he asked, tightening his arm slightly around her.
She scowled. “No.”
Even though he couldn’t see her do it, he chuckled at the tone of her voice anyways. “They’re excited to see you.” He leaned in even closer. “Their princess, the woman I am to marry.”
A moment later, “The woman that I love.”
Something about how he said it in her ear, the low gravel, the assurance, had her taking in a sharp breath. Only he could say things like that, could take her apart with just a simple statement.
She wasn’t used to a man being so…steady. Immovable as her insecurities crashed, unyielding in his affection.
It was everything she loved about him.
They spent the rest of the ride in a comfortable silence, and Nesta even dared to smile at some of the folks they passed on their way, giving polite dips of her chin to those that waved. Those looks of shock turned to fondness—that Cassian had found happiness. 
Fondness that was extended to her, even though they barely knew her.
Cassian guided Ruby into the castle courtyard, where the sound of clashing steel echoed over the stone. He dismounted first, his thighs flexing as he landed in the dirt. Then he brought his hands to her waist, lifting her from the saddle with ease. 
He placed her down right in front of him.
“I can get off of a horse myself,” she said.
“Can you?” he whispered. His hands lingered on her waist a few seconds longer than he needed to, though Nesta couldn’t say that she minded. “I wouldn’t want you to fall, sweetheart.”
Maybe he just liked having her close. He’d been that way with her all day, not letting her out of arm’s reach for more than a few minutes. 
With heated cheeks, she realized the rest of the knights were watching. Despite pretending they were busy training, or talking with each other, she knew they were watching every single moment of this interaction.
He cleared his throat. With a flourish, he bowed and brought her hand to his lips.
His eyes flickered up, hazel dancing through his dark eyelashes, and all she could think about was how those eyes met hers in the same way only that morning, his lips on a decidedly less honorable place.
He seemed to remember it too, the corner of his mouth rising into a smirk.
“My lady,” he murmured against her skin.
She fought her blush with everything she had, but she still felt it painting her cheeks. “Don’t call me that.”
Cassian’s grin was a feral thing. “My apologies,” he drawled, “princess.”
Oh, mother.
Princess. The word echoed around the courtyard, whispered from one person to the next. It didn’t surprise her. She hadn’t been seen here in any formal capacity for years, after all. It was too much to ask for her return to be…quiet.
No one dared to approach, though, only looking in with shock, frozen in her peripheral.
Rhys found them first, arching a singular brow when he saw Nesta on Cassian’s arm. 
She’d met the arrogant asshole years ago, when she’d knocked him down a peg in front of his father. He hadn’t seemed to like that.
He seemed to recognize her as well, his gaze hardening as he approached.
He bowed his head, offering deference. “Princess Nesta.”
“Sir Rhysand.”
“Come, now. Only my enemies call me that.” 
Her brow lifted. “And you have many of those?”
His teeth glinted as he gave her a cruel looking smile. “Some things never change, I see.”
Cassian threw his arm around Nesta almost immediately, stroking his fingers against her as he held her in his steady grip.
“Rhys,” he said, a cautious edge to his voice that she wasn’t familiar with. “I’d like to introduce you to my future wife.”
She looked up at him, noticed the set of his jaw in a firm expression. Cassian had his brow raised at Rhys, almost as if daring him to say something.
Drawing his line in the sand. 
Rhys blinked. He paused, his mind thinking, before nodding slowly. “Congratulations to you both. I suppose I’ll be your brother in law soon in more ways than one.”
Cassian noticeably relaxed, the arm around her shifting more towards a touch of affection, rather than a protective one. As if Rhys would be able to harm her, anyway. Even though she didn’t technically need it, the gesture was nice, regardless.
It took a couple of seconds for the words to register. “Feyre?” she asked.
“Yes. We’re to be wed.”
“How the hell did you get her to agree?” Cassian asked. “Last you told me, things were…” he grimaced beside her. “Rocky, if I recall.”
Of all things, Rhys looked away and blushed. “A story for another time.”
Nesta narrowed her eyes. If the red mark on his neck was anything to go by, there was more to the situation than he let on. She’d be talking to Feyre later, to get the details. Although, she didn’t have too much room to judge given the way she had let Cassian have her just that morning.
“Nesta!” Feyre dashed down the palace steps, running towards her.
She slammed into her, hugging her as if she hadn’t seen her in years. Maybe…maybe she’d spent too much time away from this place.
Nesta hugged her back. “Hi, Feyre.”
Feyre leaned back, and beamed. “Welcome home.”
***
Nesta’s father smiled broadly when he saw that she’d chosen Cassian. She’d noticed him fidgeting and trying to hide the nervousness from his smiles ever since he broke apart from his conversation with Rhys, and part of her knew that he was terrified of the judgment her father would give.
He’d told her of the insecurities he faced, of being looked down on in the knighthood for his lower status. She hadn’t cared one bit, even though her mother had insisted once that only a duke or a prince would ever suit her. But the woman was dead, and couldn’t input her opinions anymore.
And quite frankly, Nesta hadn’t paid any mind to her words after her mother sent her away. 
Her father welcomed him with open arms, though, saying he was glad to have Cassian as a son. She could have sworn Cassian froze as the man hugged him, eyes comically wide, before returning the gesture. 
Then her father proclaimed they would be wed the following night.
That evening, they ate and they drank as they celebrated the upcoming union. And when Nesta’s mind started to go blurry, Cassian guided her from her seat, gently holding her wrists and saying she’d had enough.
They were set up in different rooms the night before. It was tradition, and as far as everyone knew, Nesta was still virtuous. 
So while the hall was rowdy and chatter made its way through the halls, Cassian led her to her room and paused in the doorway. His was right across from her—so they wouldn’t truly be too far apart, but it felt like it regardless.
He drew her close and placed a kiss on her forehead. “This’ll be our last night apart, princess. I promise,” he said.
She grabbed his wrist, trying to pull him inside. But he stopped her with an easy flex of his muscles, not letting himself be persuaded otherwise.
“You’re drunk,” he said, chuckling. “We’ll play all you want later. Get some rest, you’re going to need it tomorrow.”
They shared one last kiss before he broke away, Cassian pressing his forehead to hers, and Nesta longed for the following night. When she could drag him into her room, and no one would blink an eye.
She watched his retreating form reach his door before she closed her own. And when the world had gone quiet, and she made her way into her bed, she shut her eyes.
***
Nesta ran her hands over the smooth fabric of her gown. For the wedding being this last minute, it was perfect—a satin gown of deep red that she knew Cassian would nearly weep over.
Two ladies from the palace pinned small braids atop her head into an updo that weaved across itself. While she typically favored her coronet, this seemed to suit the occasion. 
They were twins, from the look of it. They chattered as they worked, and Nesta was content to let them gossip the morning away. 
She had years of gossip to catch up on, after all.
“Could you give us a minute?”
Feyre’s voice was the last thing she expected to hear. In the mirror, she could see her sister standing in the doorway, paused by a slight hesitation and an unsure smile.
“Feyre.”
The ladies left the room silently, bowing their heads as they passed her sister. Feyre took a seat on the settee in the corner.
“You look beautiful,” Feyre said.  “Cassian’s a very lucky man.”
Nesta snorted. “It depends on how you look at it, I suppose.” 
“I think we’ll have to disagree on that,” she said lightly. Feyre stalled for a minute. “Elain arrived back today.”
“Did she?” Nesta’s mouth curved up. “With a suitor in hand?”
“With two.” She heard Feyre shifting in her seat. “It’s caused quite a scandal. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”
Nesta hummed. “I might have been a little distracted.”
“With a certain hulking knight?” Nesta lifted her eyebrows, meeting her sister’s inquisitive look through the mirror. But her sister waved it off. “I’m the last person to judge. Those three can be…persuasive,” she clarified. 
Nesta just stared for a moment, unused to the openness between them. The familiarity in the words. But she couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her. “That’s one way to describe it.” Her eyes crinkled with it, and she said, “I’ve missed you, Feyre.”
Feyre’s expression turned hopeful. “Does this mean you’re going to come back home?”
“Can I say that I haven’t decided yet?” Nesta asked. Her shoulders tensed slightly, waiting for her sister’s response. Not that she thought Feyre would cast her off, but…
She’d seen the look of disappointment on Feyre’s face too many times to count, on the days where her little sister begged her to stay instead of returning to the forest. She’d always hated being the cause of it.
But Feyre merely smiled. “You’d make a wonderful queen,” she offered. “If you want a reason to stay.”
“I always thought you would,” Nesta rebutted. “You’ve always been brave, when I never was.”
“Well, that’s not true in the slightest,” Feyre said. “You were always my big sister. Nothing could scare you. Plus,” Feyre added, “You have no trouble keeping all those knights in line. I think you could manage to rule a kingdom.”
“I’m not certain I wish to,” Nesta admitted. “Listen, Feyre. I’m sorry that I wasn’t here, that I didn’t—”
“Don’t,” Feyre said, cutting her off. “I get it, Nesta, I do. It sucked, but I understand why you stayed away.” Her sister stood, joining her in front of the mirror. The next thing she knew, Feyre had wrapped her in a hug, holding her tightly against herself. “I just hope it doesn’t always have to be that way.”
They broke apart, and as Feyre held her hand, her smile still on her face, Nesta couldn’t help but agree.
***
Their wedding took place that evening. 
The first thing that Nesta thought when she saw Cassian standing at the altar was that for once, he was polished. She knew he was nobility, that he was the son of a lord, but this was the first time that he truly looked the part.
He’d always been beautiful in the rugged way, like he was carved from stone. Like the gods themselves had crafted him in their hands. It was the sort of beauty that was wild, that was not meant to be kept behind palace gates.
Today, though, that wild hair was contained behind his head. Instead of armor, he donned his court finery: nice pants and a black tunic with silver embroidered on the edges. Over top, he wore a dark red jacket. Simple, but elegant.
His mouth broke into a wide grin when he saw her at the door. And she found her heart filled with hope, with every step that she took towards him.
It went faster than what she wanted. A priestess named Gwyn tied their hands together with a white ribbon. His palm was beneath hers as she promised her undying devotion, and he squeezed her hand as he did the same. 
His voice wavered as he repeated the words, sparing no attention for the crowd that had formed beyond them, curious to see their princess again. No, it was fully on her. His eyes locked on her own, tears swimming with the hazel, swearing off all others and tying his life to hers. 
She watched as those tears formed fully, streaming down his face as he finished the words, and the priestess started her speech.
And before she knew it, Nesta was declared his wife.
He smiled into their kiss. Chaste, and merely a promise of what was to come later, when she had him alone.
The last few days had been a whirlwind, but Cassian’s hands kept her steady, gentle as they held each other in silent embrace where they stood. The guests began to filter out, but Cassian took the moment to hold her there with him, only separating from her to cup her face in his hands.
“You look beautiful today,” he murmured.
“You don’t look too bad yourself.” She reached up to wipe those tears away. “Let’s go make an appearance, husband.”
***
The mid summer breeze was cool when they stepped outside of the temple. There were cheers as they walked through the courtyard and into the great hall, which was bedecked for the celebration.
Despite the short turnaround, Nesta’s father went all out: there was a feast that could feed hundreds, with a roasted pig and barrels of mulled wine that filled goblet after goblet along the walls.
Cassian didn’t hesitate to spin her around and around on the dance floor, and when the guests were distracted he pulled her into an empty alcove where only the echoes of the music could find them.
She half expected him to kiss her right then and there. He hadn’t touched her in over a day, and he was probably as restless as she was. 
He offered her his hand instead, leading her into him gently as the orchestra began another tune. She raised a questioning eyebrow.
“One dance, just the two of us. With no one watching,” he explained.
Her heart melted a bit at that. He pulled her in closer, humming softly to the music that played while they swayed together. 
And although knowing the little things would come over following months, and years, she felt at home in his arms. She knew him. Her soul knew his, connected on some level that she couldn’t explain. Maybe it didn’t need an explanation.
Nesta wasn’t afraid of what she saw. And neither was he.
People she hadn’t seen in years came up to congratulate them as the night went on. With each interaction, her back tensed up tighter and tighter, until Cassian finally took notice and drew her away.
“Should we turn in for the night?”
She blushed slightly, imagining what the guests might say about their early departure. But she found she didn’t care about it in the slightest. She nodded, and his hand slid to the small of her back as he led them to their quarters for the night.
Once he shut the door, Cassian kissed her once, twice before slowly turning her around so she faced away from him.
He started undoing the buttons down her back, his large fingers struggling to separate the tiny things from the fabric that held them together.
“Who designed this?” he asked, curiosity lacing his tone. “The enemy of husbands everywhere.”
She stifled her laugh, trying to stay as still as possible. “It’s part of the wedding night experience, struggling to get your bride’s dress off her.”
“I think you’d be disappointed, sweetheart, if I struggled too much to get it off.”
She was just glad he hadn’t gone the route of ripping it off her body. Though, to be fair, he’d nearly done it the morning before. He was more in control today, content to enjoy the moments of the day as they happened.
And she liked this dress. She was glad it wouldn’t become a pile of shredded fabric, destroyed by a man with no taste.
Once he got it to a point where he could, Cassian pushed the dress off of her shoulders, but there were still buttons going all the way down to her waist.
“At this rate, it'll take all night,” she muttered.
“It’s ok, Nes. I’m a patient man.” His breath was right there, hitting the ridge of her ear. “I’ll have you in that bed soon enough.”
“Something tells me you’re not patient at all.”
“You’re in a mood today, aren’t you?” Cassian bent over then, picking up the bottom hem of the gown and bunching it around her waist. “Since I’m apparently so impatient, maybe I should just fuck you in this.”
She whimpered softly, letting her head fall back to rest on his shoulder. Which he took advantage of. He hummed, leaning in to press his lips into the side of her neck. Her cheek. Her ear. 
“Is that how you want it, Nes? Rough and uncontrolled?” 
“I—” Nesta could barely speak.
Even though she couldn’t see it, she could feel the smirk that graced his lips. “Where do you want me to take you, then? The desk? The wall?” He nipped at the bottom of her ear. “The floor?”
“That’ll destroy your knees.”
“So be it.”
Before he could begin his plan, though, Nesta turned in his hold. She took his chin in her hand, pressed between firm fingers, holding him right where she wanted. His smile only grew.
“Maybe I wish to take you.”
“I don’t think you could manage it,” he teased.
She hummed, considering, then gave a gentle tug with her hand. She watched intently as he bent over, amused as the large, hulky knight that was her husband allowed himself to be pulled without complaint. 
“I’m going to be on top,” she said.
One slow hand ran down her back. “Are you?”
The flecks of green in his eyes sparkled in the candlelight, like tiny stars that were only hers to look at. They roved over her. “In the dress, I hope?”
She scoffed, rolling her eyes, despite knowing she didn’t want to go through the process of taking it off, either.
“Lie down, husband, so I can have my way with you.”
She caught the hitch of his breath, the indication that he was just as excited about the prospect as she was.
He took off his jacket first.
Then, with a fluid motion, he tugged his shirt over his head, revealing the prominent lines of muscles on his abdomen. Which he made sure to flex as he dragged the shirt from his shoulders.
Her mouth parted, struck by the beauty of her husband. Everything from his tanned skin, to the stunning hazel of his eyes, to the jawline that could forge steel. 
He undid his hair, and it fell into its normal waves. All of the heat she normally felt when she looked at him intensified, and he smirked.
He took a step back towards the bed. “Whatever you command, wife.”
***
She didn’t know if she would ever get used to how sweet he could be after they came together.
He kissed her softly, worshiping her like a goddess, and asking if she needed any water, or food, or blankets. Even though she had been the one to ride him until he couldn’t think straight, holding his release with an unrelenting grip until he begged her for it, somehow he was still taking care of her.
She’d collapsed next to him, stray hair from her updo sticking to the sides of her face from sweat. He’d brushed them away, his soothing hands running over her skin, lingering at the dress still bunched at her torso. “Let’s get this off of you, yeah? I wouldn’t want it to be ruined.”
He carefully undid the last of her buttons so that it could slide down past her hips. Then she was bare, and she realized as he held it out to her that he’d brought over a shirt for her to change into, one of his. She blinked away tears as large hands found each of the pins in her hair, removing them and letting it cascade down her back. He ran his fingers through it, combing out the tangles that had gathered over the course of the day, with a heartbreaking tenderness.
“Are you feeling okay?” he asked, once he’d hung the dress on the chair in the corner, returning to the bed with her. “I know that was intense.”
She was still tingling with the aftershocks of pleasure, but Nesta found she was completely relaxed. “I’m perfect,” she said. “Come to bed with me, Cassian.”
She grabbed his hand, pulling him beside her, and they made their way under the covers.
“No one else,” he said. “For either of us.”
“No one else,” she replied. With one more kiss before she settled, Nesta said, “Cassian. I love you.”
Her brave knight hummed, and his steady arms were around her once again. This was right where she belonged. The thought came to her as her eyes drifted closed, as she burrowed deeper into the warmth of his body.
“I love you too, Nesta,” he whispered, as she teetered on the edge of being asleep.
It was the last thing she recalled, before she dipped into unconsciousness. And while she safely slept in Cassian’s arms, she couldn’t deny the pure contentment that flowed through her.
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wcrldcffantasy · 11 hours ago
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Something in Sano's head snapped as he turned his head, sensing dark energy coming their way.
"Ami, take the deer and the girls and run."
The flute player looked confused for a second before he grabbed Maria's hand and started to run, as Bambi was already nudging their head to make Hime move.
Bringing out his large steel sword, he smirked and easily swung it towards his front side and held it strong, "Been a while since I fought some evil bastards. Let's see what you're made of~"
Grotesque and glass like looking creatures were snarling and growling at Sano as he readied his sword, and soon pushed forward with a cry as he made his first attack. Some of them shattered, some of them got a few hits at him, but Sano stayed strong...
That was until an arrow whizzed past him and hit one of the monster dead center at his head. Watching the creature fall, Sano looked up and then snorted, "Wow...is my eyes deceiving me?"
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"Shut yer gob 'an keep fightin'!" Merida huffed as she shot more arrows, even shooting a fiery one in the sky as a rain of magical arrows aimed at her targets.
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"Yeesh, what ugly looking critters," Hak hummed as he looked at the monsters and held up his own weapon on his shoulder, then smirked over at Sano, "A pleasure to be figithing alongside you, Sagara."
Sano blinked, before he snorted and was prepping up his weapon at the ready and grinned, "Dunno who you are, but if you're here with Princess Fire Hazard, then you must be an ally,"
Both men let out a war cry as they kicked off to attack, Merida covering their backs.
Meanwhile, Hime was backed into an alleyway with Maria holding her close, Bambi letting out angry bleats and Amiboshi holding his flute up. Some of the monsters came out of the shadows to corner them, and Amiboshi was soon playing a tune to get them to fall asleep...or at least fight each other so they will be distracted enough to let him and the others escape.
Hime clasped her hands together, closing her eyes as she was about to let off some Clow energy, hoping to dispel the monsters. Please, please, please work...
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Davion closed his eyes as he then let a tear fall for a moment, but then sighed as he was opening his eyes again and moved a hand to bring Beelzebub closer, squeezing the hand.
"I thought...even when I died, that Yun's suffering would end. That at least you're here and maybe it was wishful thinking that there will be no more things that could hurt him and give him happiness..."
Davion looked back at Yun and felt his heart ache.
This time. I'm not going away. I'll fight anyone that tries to take me away from them again...
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"And miss out on reading in the Sacred library? Plus, keeping you company was always my aim if not being stopped by Ed and Al," Milo said in a cheerful tone as he was walking over to the pale man and patted his arm gently, giving a bright smile, "Another book today?"
Eric did shift a little at the mention of Ivory and Li, almost wanting to say something about it and Milo sighed.
"Eric, if you did want to go and see them, you can. I'm sure that I'm plenty company for Wěi qí~"
Eric hummed a little, "A-are you sure?"
Milo nodded his head, "Yeah, yeah I'm sure~! Not to mention I'm pretty sure they miss your company anyways,"
Eric tried not to look flustered about that, before he then was waving goodbye to them, and Milo turned back to Wěi qí and softened.
"Anyways, I thought maybe we could look into one of your favorite readings today?"
Alphonse yelped when he was pulled by Iago and then felt his cheeks fluster at the affection, although his own heart melted as he smiled and reached to pate his head.
Edward was indeed surprised. But relieved that it seems that they were receiving good vibes and even talking about a possible wedding. While it was all happy and well, Edward still had the inkling in his brain that there was still some questions to ask.
That if Zen had a hand in bringing Davion back? If not, then who? And who else are they going to expect in this development?
Edward took a breath as he looked around the room.
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"Let's not be celebrating just yet, there are still some things we gotta take note. With Davion back, there's gonna be word spread in the White Faction and they might try to come and investigate. Even call for Davion to come back with them to meet with Zen,"
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"Don' go doin' that to yerself, Davi. You and I both know that Rex was never going to survive. We did all we could, Rex knew that. He's probably been reincarnated to live a more peaceful life." Beelzebub replied with a sigh.
Gods, today is really reopening a lot of old wounds. "Turns out, Akhir and Hope were also starting to affect Yun's mind by accident. Hope hadn't realized that some of his more traumatic memories slipped through and merged with Yun's-that was one helluva fun talk..."
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Hearing her name, Beelzebub had to rein in his own temper. "We don' talk about her in this house." He replied. But knowing that Davion earned an explanation, the Deadly Sin told him what happened between Yue and Yun. "The long and short of it is they had a pretty nasty fight, where Yun finally told her everything and what he's been holding back. And when I say nasty, it nearly became a brawl, and you know how much damage our dragon can do."
And with Yun not holding back, Yue would have been seriously crippled or worse.
"I know Shiro was your friend, Davion. Yun, an' I won't stop you from trying to have a relationship with her. Just be careful."
Back with Citalee, the Ars Goetia-like demon looked back at Alphonse and told him that he would need to trust in Beelzebub to get to that at some point.
Davion had just been resurrected and, by now, possibly learned of Akhir. And at Edward's concern, Citalee reminded him that the council members were chosen by Sai Gong himself because they all got along with Yun in the first place.
"I'm still shocked by also thrilled at this, Sir Edward. This will benefit us all, especially King Beelzebub in their bedroom."
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"Gross, Cita! I didn't need that image!" Iago whined and startled the Ars Goetia demon. The tiger demon apologized before pointing out that he just overheard that Davion was back. "Anyone inform the kids?"
"We will handle that after the meeting, Iago." Citalee replied before sighing softly.
Upon entering the room, Iago made it to his seat but not without grabbing Alphonse so that he could cuddle next to him as Citalee took to his place. From there, Edward got his answer about Davion's return: It was a good reaction. Many, if not everyone, were excited about the news, and Carmen, the Councilwoman of War, even asked if they should prep for another wedding.
As with Milo and Eric, Wěi qí slowly opened his door to reveal himself. He looked ragged and tired, the same as usual, but he was a lot paler than normal for him. "Milo. Eric. I thought you two would be with Ivory and Li down at the cottage."
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"Do not fail me this time." A voice from the depths growled at the monsters.
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niallandtommo · 8 months ago
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yesterday my niece was sitting in my lap and we were cuddling and i told her i don't want her to grow up and she was like why don't you want me to grow up and i was like because i don't want you to ever stop cuddling me and she said i will never stop cuddling you 🥺
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curryshesus · 5 months ago
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jeon jungkook fics that had me going feral
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hi guys, here's a part 2 to my favorite jjk fics on tumblr! note that many of these fics contain 18+ content. you are responsible for the content you consume! as always, if you enjoyed any of these fics as much as i did, please take a moment to send some love to the authors! part 1 | other bts members
➺ cold nights & blurred lines - by @awrkive
summary: jungkook and you have been in a sexual relationship with each other for four months now, and it’s casual for the most part. but as time passes, you can’t help but feel that some of the lines suddenly got blurred in the process. is it a cliché to blur the lines with your fuck buddy? it definitely is. will you do something about it? both of your emotional constipation have a hard time saying yes.
➺ night crawlers - by @alphabetboyluvr
summary: jungkook’s always been good at running. track, field, red lights, shit outta luck. drugs, now, too. but he doesn’t expect to run into you. in your shared lecture halls, sure. maybe. but not down the back alleys of daerim at ass o’clock in the morning. there are only three types of women he ever sees in daerim: hookers, sugar-babies and addicts. you aren't any of those; you're a trust-fund baby who can get percocet on private repeat prescription, if you really want it. he's sure of it. so it then further begs the question: why the fuck are you here?
➺ this is how you fall in love - by @jeonqkooks
summary: after years of drinking and clubbing most days of the week and leaving every gig with a different girl on his arm, jungkook feels what it’s like to want someone with his entire being.
➺ the dilf installments - by @mercurygguk
summary: this series follows jungkook’s life as a divorced father. but wait, how exactly does one balance being a father, a boyfriend, a friend, and a respectable boss at the same time? read the installments below to find out!
➺ ultimatum - by @parkmuse
summary: your pervy, idiotic boyfriend just so happens to also be your friendly neighborhood Spider-man (in bed).
➺ a hero's journey - by @hansolmates
summary: jungkook and jisoo are the mightiest power couple. however, one drunken confession and that whole facade fades in an instant. you realize that maybe you need to break from your unvaried life for a bit and be the hero of your own love story
➺ tempest - by @kooktrash
summary: you’ve always considered your life to be more mundane than you would like to admit. it was a constant cycle of the same things over and over again that when you meet jeon jungkook at a bar, of all places, you didn’t expect to see just how much he would change your life and those around you. he’s got an air of mystery around him with his charming good looks and a violent past that you slowly begun to unravel when it feels like everything is going perfect.
➺ by its cover - by @gimmesumsuga
summary: the one where Jungkook makes a horrifically bad first impression.
➺ slow dancing - by @yoonia
summary: when your countdown appeared on your wrist right in the morning of your eighteenth birthday, you had thought that perhaps the universe was on your side, especially since the final seconds were already ticking so soon. You just never expected to have your first meeting with your soulmate to be the day when you had to let him go. But hope was not lost when you still found love without the bond, and Jungkook showed you that it was possible to find happiness beyond the system that was written for you. Except that the universe doesn’t seem to have enough of its game, when your past sacrifice comes back hitting you straight in the face, just when you had believed that you had written off the perfect ending to your bittersweet tale.
➺ e s p r e s s o - by @joonberriess
➺ hold me closer - by @ahundredtimesover
summary: when you're asked to look after your parents' house and meet them before they go on vacation, you, Jimin, and Jungkook take the trip to your hometown of Busan and relive memories of your youth. While your new relationship has you feeling like a lovesick teenager with all the affection that Jungkook shows you, you're still you - a professional trying to make it in the corporate world, and an eldest child trying not to disappoint her parents. And that turns out to be your undoing, as a little blunder causes a rift between you and Jungkook, resulting in a trip that you might as well have messed up… Not if your brother can help it, though.
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seumyo · 7 months ago
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BAKUGOU KATSUKI ✰ 10:32
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You tell Bakugou once that you don’t know how to take the train home, and he almost blasted your ears off with semi-yelling (or full-on yelling at some point) insults. 
“Hah?” He scoffs, eyes narrowing. This information is new to him, and a surprising one at that. 
You? The nerd that always bested him when it came to academics, which pissed him off the first few months in U.A.? The person who was not only book smart but was street and people smart as well? 
The whole goddamn package doesn’t know how to take the train?
Really?
He’s calling bull.
“What do you mean you don’t know how to take the train home? What kind of idiot doesn’t know that?”
“I just—“ you’re abashed and really don’t know what to say, “I didn’t really— I’ve never had the chance to take one until now!” For a consistent honors student, you can’t really have everything, can you?
“How’ve you been getting to school and back, then?”
“We had a driver—“
“Fuckin’ course—“
“But hey! Listen—in my defense—my schools were usually a walking distance from our house.”
“And now what? Gonna stand here and wait for a miracle to happen?”
You nudge his side with a frustrated frown (more like a pout, Bakugou thinks.) “Quit it, asshole.”
He backtracks briefly, though you could barely tell at this point. And it’s clear enough that he takes your words into consideration. It could be the fact that you actually look scared shitless right now, something foreign to your typical lax and carefree persona.
“C’mon.” Bakugou grabs you by the arm.
“Ow— hey! Where are we going?”
“You have to learn somehow, or else you’ll look fuckin’ clueless and dumb, nerd.”
You don’t argue because you really just wanted to get home, and while you could just call in your driver, you considered that this was important information that would help you in the long run. Besides, you do agree with Bakugou that not knowing how to commute like this is embarrassing, especially at your age.
“What’s this?” 
Bakugou hands you a card. It’s decorated with a minimalist logo of Musutafu’s native flower, whose color is your favorite.
“An IC card,” he simply answers.
It’s cute, you thought. You noticed how the other commuters had the standard design, so Bakugou must've gotten it personalized to your preference. How thoughtful.
“You could’ve just helped me get a ticket, though,” you murmur. You fiddle with the card in your hand, glancing at him with a puzzled expression. “I don’t think I’ll be using this card that often. It’ll be a waste.”
“Then try and use it as often as you can, nerd.”
“I’ll pay you back for this—how much was it?”
“Forget it.”
“Really, Bak—“
“Forget it,” he barks. “Keep up, you shitty extra. Or else you’d miss the last train to your station.” Bakugou starts walking, and you follow suit.
You can load your IC card at the ticket machines or the nearest ATMs. Different stations call for different ticket gates that obviously have different fares. The expiration of cards usually depends on what provider you got them from—
“What do I do now?”
You’re hesitantly in front of the ticket gate, with Bakugou on the other side. You’re like a kid who’s lost their mother in the mall.
“Just—“ Bakugou had to take a deep breath and not make a scene in the train station. He pinched the bridge of his nose, calling for all his ancestors to give him the strength to remain patient.
“Place your shitty card on the card reader. That’s it.”
You do as you’re taught, and you awed when the gates opened and let yourself walk through with a stupidly big smile on your face. “I did it!”
Bakugou thinks it’s fucking stupid of him to think that your enthusiasm for mundane things was cute. But fuck, something must be wrong with him because suddenly he feels a flurry of butterflies lodged in his throat, his heart beating ridiculously fast. 
“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” 
He gives you directions, how to navigate through Musutafu without getting lost, and the basic stations you’ll be passing by to get to your station. He sees you type most of the things he says on your phone, and the way you were so eager to learn was a sight to see, really.
Boarding the metro, people were just as eager to get home as you two. So you two stood, not that there was much room to do anything about it.
“Hold onto the handle unless you want to fall on your ass,” Bakugou says. His tone is hushed to not disturb the other passengers. At least he followed basic commuting etiquette. 
“It’s so beautiful,” you breathe out. The passing buildings were as huge as those of U.A.’s, if not bigger. With the golden hue of the apparent descent of the sun below the horizon, Musutafu just became more beautiful in your eyes.
He scoffs.
“What’s so interestin’ about a buncha tacky buildings? Never seen one before you came here?”
“Of course I have; they’re just not like this.”
Bakugou follows your line of sight, and he thinks about it carefully. He couldn’t see what you saw, but maybe it’s because he grew up looking at this scenery. It doesn’t amaze him as much as it did when he was younger, he concludes. To you, this was a first. 
An experience that could become a core memory in this city. And he’s with you as you live through it. The thought causes a familiar feeling of pride to exude from his chest.
Maybe he’ll learn to appreciate more mundane things with you too in the future.
The train stops at another station, and the people scurry out. Once in motion, you were surprised by the speed when it took off, and the motion had you stumbling back. You stumble against Bakugou.
“What did I say about keeping a firm hold on the handles, you shitty extra? That’s what those are for.” Whether it’s by instinct or unintentional, Bakugou guides your hand to hold onto the support pole. He doesn’t let go, and you didn’t make a comment about it.
“Sorry! Still getting used to it,” you quietly laugh. “I hope the people here don’t think I’m really that inexperienced when it comes to taking the metro home,” you told him. “It’s embarrassing to think that I haven’t taken one until now.”
Bakugou thinks it’s alright because you were actually on set to learn. No matter what those other extras say or comment, no matter if they give you unimpressed glances, he’s there to grant them one of his own spine-chilling glares if they had the balls to do so. 
A passenger who appeared to be around your age stood up from his seat. “Excuse me, you can take my seat. I get off at the next stop,” he says. You’re a bit hesitant to take the offer, but he reassures you that it’s fine. It’ll be an awkward death for you if you don’t accept it, because now he’s standing. “Please, I insist.”
Unknown to you, Bakugou had an obvious scowl on his face until the stranger left.
“You look like you’re about to shit yourself.”
“Shut up, I’m not.”
“Jealous?”
“Hah? Why would I be—”
“Shh!” you kicked his shoe with yours.
“Quiet, remember?”
Bakugou rolls his eyes, still frowning. You hold his free hand, cheekily smiling when he tries to free it from your hold. And in the end, he lets you do whatever the fuck it is that you want, but he would never ever admit that he was jealous of some nameless extra. He’s too far into liking you to help you board a train, get you a personalized IC card, miss his stop two stations ago because yours was still three stations after his, but he doesn’t think he’d be vocal about it anytime soon.
He’ll leave it to you to confess.
Then again, you already knew.
Bakugou Katsuki would not go above and beyond like this for anyone else, but he unknowingly does for you.
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SEUMYO © 2024, PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.
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leclarifies · 10 days ago
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letters (MV33)
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꒰ max verstappen x childhoodbestfriend! reader ꒱
synopsis┊it was confusing, even though you were continents apart, you never understood why max never responded to your letters, until you attend the belgium gp to finally get the answers you were looking for. inspired by the prompt, "why did you never reply to my letters?" "you wrote me letters?"
genre┊ fluffy, the fluffiest fluff i've ever fluffed.
word count┊ 4.4k
aria yaps┊ i have worked on this non-stop for two days, and i loved the way it turned out, maybe one of my favorite works. enjoy reading this as much as i enjoy writing this!!
SECOND PART
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she was always around max, either from the sidelines or the first person max ran to when he won a race, it was always her. not even his father, even though he held his father to the highest regard, but it was always her.
the little wrinkles on the edge of her eyes when she smiled at him, the way her lips would curl up, or the way she would giggle every. single. time. that he would come and hug her after every race finish. he remembers it all. and the way he would snuggle his face in the crook of her neck and asked her softly after he would win a race, 'did you see me win, schatje?'
she would always smile back with a laugh, 'of course i did maxie.'
it was always about max, her life revolved around him, whether he liked it or not. she adored him and maybe he adored her a little bit more. they were childhood friends, they were inseparable since they were little babies, their mothers being friends made it even harder for the both of them to not be attached at the hip.
she loved being in his presence and he loved her.
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the divorce between jos and sophie was hard on max, he blamed himself and his career but she was always there to tell him that it's not his fault. that their decision was their own and she never forgot to tell max that it wasn't his fault, no matter how much they told him that it was.
she saw the way jos had pushed max to his limits, get physical with his own son and his way of escaping that life was run to her arms, she was there tending to every bruise, every wound whether physical or emotional. she was his rock and it was final. nothing anyone could ever say or do would change his name.
"schatje," max had gently woken her up from her slumber, and she stirred awake from his soft voice, she noticed where she was and finally remembered what happened.
max had finished lower than expected and jos had thrown hurtful things about max, she was there on his mother's couch, comforting him and had fallen asleep that way, with max on her lap, "are you sleepy?"
she shook her head, not wanting to admit that yes, indeed she was sleepy, but if max needed comfort then that wasn't a big deal to her, "what's wrong maxie?"
"nothing, you can sleep on my bed if you're tired. i can sleep here," max had brushed a stray strand of her hair behind her ear but she refused, she hated taking his bed because she knew how uncomfortable the couch was, she wanted him to sleep well.
but he wouldn't allow her to take the couch, so they both slept on sophie's couch almost cuddled with eachother because they were both stubborn.
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max was necessarily content with how he was living his life right now, but she made it better and that's all he could ask for. was it her smile? maybe her presence? max didn't care. the first memory he could remember from his early childhood was her, and it was etched into his memory like stone.
she was content with being max's rock, she was there to keep him grounded and she too only had memories of him from her early childhood. she wouldn't replace him for the world, he was too precious for anything in this earthly world.
but there was one day, it felt like a bomb dropped on her. her father had told her that he would have to move to korea to continue work, and she didn't know how to break the news to max until a few days before she had to leave.
she knew it was wrong to keep something this big away from max, but she was so stricken with anxiety that she never got the chance to until max came over to her house and saw all the packed boxes with their belongings.
"why didn't you tell me sooner?" max was angry, she could tell, by the way he was pacing around her room, looking at the packed boxes around. max thought he meant more to her than just a measly friend, he felt frustrated— betrayed almost. why wouldn't she tell him? why would she keep something as big as this away from him?
"why didn't you say something before? why now? why before you could see me race this weekend?" max was raising his voice now, and she didn't know what to do. her eyes turned glassy and those doe eyes max loved so much just looked so sad.
she stayed quiet, a guilty look on her face. she knew max would break from the news, and she knew that it would affect his performance, but she didn't know how to stay, how to convince her father that she didn't want to go, so yet again, she stayed silent in important moments of her life.
"schatje, can you say something? say anything?!" max yelled and she flinches, she didn't know what to say or what to do, she wanted to say something, say anything. but nothing would come to her lips. it was so hard for her when he was angry like this, it reminded her of his father and his father was deathly scary when angry.
a sigh escapes max's lips when he sees her flinch, coming close to her to wrap her in a hug. tears escaped from her eyes as she held onto max tight, "i didn't know how to tell you," she whispers into max's ear but max didn't say anything to that, just held her even tighter and he did not want to let go.
"it's okay schatje, i'm not mad at you. i could never get mad at you, i'm sorry for raising my voice. i just don't want you to go," tears started to escape max's eyes too, he didn't want to see her go. he wanted her to stay, and she did too. but the universe was pulling them apart and there was nothing either of them could do about it.
the ride to the airport was tough, being only fifteen and sixteen respectively. max held her hand the entire time, not wanting to let go, he didn't want her to leave, she was his biggest support system and he couldn't imagine her gone like that.
she was the most scared of the two of them, what if her father never returned to belgium? what if she was stuck there in korea forever? what if she never got to see his pretty blue eyes anymore?
max was the one to ground her, no longer lost in her thoughts, "can you promise me we'll keep in touch? or maybe visit from time to time?" max was holding onto her hands tightly, she felt like they would bruise, she could only smile and nod.
her mother had called her over, it was time to go. she looked at max for what it felt like the last time and left her life in belgium.
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dear schatje,
hi, this is the first week that you're gone and it's bene been so hard without you here with me. i forgot that you weren't here anymore and i was expecting to see your face, but when i didn't, i may or may not have almost cried.
i miss you so much. tell me how it is in korea, is it cold? do they have bears there? what about the food? is it good? can you eat it? i heard there's a lot of spiy spicy food there? honestly i don't care about what they have there, i just care about you.
when can you visit again? can you tell me if you're ever coming back? i'm so worried about you there, i miss you... so much schatje.
written with a lot of love, your maxie.
max always handed off his letters to his father, telling his father to hand it off to his mother because apparently they kept in contact and wanted to send it off to the post office on behalf of him.
he just wondered how she was doing there.
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it's been months and countless of letters max had sent, and none of them replied. he was starting to lose hope, he didn't want to think that his best friend would forget about him so easily like that, but he held out hope. he knew that she wouldn't magically forget about him now that she was there.
jealousy bubbled within him when he realized that she would be meeting new people, what if she met someone like him? who enjoyed karting and wanted to steal her attention?
no, he couldn't be thinking like that. he loved her and he knew she loved him as much as he did, so he told himself to just be patient, maybe letters to korea took months to reach?
the naviety was almost laughable but he was fine with it. he just wanted to hear back from his pretty girl.
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"i do not understand why you keep writing letters to that stupid girl, she doesn't reply to you and all it does is distract you," jos had reprimanded his son, but max was stubborn. he didn't care what his father had to say, he loved all of her, even when she was thousands of kilometers away. he wanted to talk, even when she never replied.
max was in the process of writing another letter, but he never listened to his father, not about her. not about how much of a distraction she's been to his career, he didn't care. he used it as motivation to get better on the track, so the next time she saw him, he would be a world champion, that's what he silently promised to her.
it had been two years, and he hadn't heard a peep back. slowly, he was starting to lose hope but he couldn't lose hope, every single time he would send off the letters, he told himself that maybe it got lost in the mail.
max kept writing though.
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max's debut in f1 was explosive to say the least, his interviews would absolutely go viral by the things he was saying in them. he didn't understand why, he just said what was on his mind.
what was truly on his mind was her.
was he not good enough for her? was him being in f1 not enough to impress her? why wouldn't she write back?
oh god how he missed her.
he still wrote to her weekly, it was religious at this point. he never forgot and he always told his father to send them off to his mother and the week after that was always disappointment because he wouldn't hear anything back.
little did he know, she never received those letters.
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max had slowly stopped writing letters as he got into f1, he didn't see a point in it anymore. she never replied. she didn't care. letters didn't take years to reach korea, and he finally lost hope.
winning his first championship felt empty, the pretty girl who used to be waiting for him wasn't there for him anymore. of course, he was happy to win such an impressive feat, who wouldn't? but it just... lacked her.
max indeed lost hope that she would ever write back, but never lost hope that she was out there, somewhere, watching him race every single week and beat the shit out of his rivals. she loved watching him race and that's what he intended to do until the day he died, he wanted to impress her, maybe that was his ulterior motive to becoming a formula one driver.
all just to impress his best friend who had lost contact with him for a decade now.
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"you need to stop figdeting so much," her mother had scolded her, she could only laugh nervously and stop fidgeting around. she wondered why max never wrote back to her, she had written him letters. did he hate her for moving out to korea and not coming to visit belgium?
she shook the thoughts out of her head, she was here now. for his home race, and for the rest of her life. her father had now decided to move back to belgium, because and i quote, 'i don't want my daughter to lose touch with her culture'.
she was 26 now, and she had guessed that he turned 27 not too long ago. it's been so long since she talked to him and she hoped that the spark that she had been yearning for had not been lost to the passages of time.
getting the paddock passes was not easy, it was a war and a half but she managed to snag some for herself and a friend that wanted to visit belgium and would arrive later on in the week.
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"how did you even manage to get paddock passes for us?" heejin, her friend that wanted to visit had asked, she could only laugh and explain how she got them, it was a war and a half. heejin laughed along with her as they both arrived and scanned their passes at the entrance.
"i'm gonna meet my best friend here— well it's complicated. i don't think he considers me a best friend anymore, but i still do," she had softly told heejin who was a big formula one fan even before meeting her, heejin raised her eyebrow when she said that.
the both of them were walking down the paddock, passing all of the different team's hospitalities. heejin raised her eyebrow at her friend, who shrugged.
"who's your best friend?" heejin had asked as they pass by the red bull hospitality, she stopped which signalled heejin to stop as well, she looked at the redbull in awe. she hadn't been to a formula one race yet, the closest she'd been was to karting but that didn't bring on the feelings she felt when standing in front of this red bull building.
"well, he's driving the number one car."
"YOUR BEST FRIEND IS MAX VERSTAPPEN?!"
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"YOUR BEST FRIEND IS MAX VERSTAPPEN?!"
max had heard a girl yell, he slowly turned his head. he was confused, he didn't have a best friend— well not anymore. she had moved to korea, all memories of her stuck in his head being replayed all over and over again.
that's all he had left of her.
the other girl shushed the girl who yelled, and that's when it dawned on max. the other girl looked awfully familiar, he couldn't quite place why she looked so familiar but she looked like her, like his best friend.
"shh! you can't just yell that out in public," she clamped a hand on her friend's mouth, "they're gonna think i'm insane!" then the both of them giggled, it did sound ridiculous but now he was curious.
was she back? was that her? who was she with? is that her new best friend? is that her?
as they both walked away, max wanted to run up to them, to ask that one particular girl what her name was. what she was doing here and who she was with but all of that died when he got approached by his race engineer.
then he forgot all about that familiar girl that he saw in front of the red bull hospitality.
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max would only get another glimpse of her when it was race day, they were walking through the paddock in a similar fashion, but max promised to himself that he would approach them, that he would ask but there was doubt in his heart.
what if she forgot about him?
she couldn't, right?
and so approach them he did, tapping the girl that he felt was so familiar to on the shoulder, she had turned around and they had locked eyes.
it was as if she never left.
the sparks, they all came rushing back and then his heart started beating out of his chest, he wanted to ask so many questions, why she was here, who she was with, when she came back— why she came back, why she never wrote him back.
but the only thing that left his lips were a simple, "hi."
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heejin was freaking out, she could tell. she knew that heejin was a big red bull fan too, always talking about how the team was dominating and they had the better car. she had heard all about it. but the little dutchboy she left all those years ago was standing in front of her and not-so little anymore and all those thoughts about her girlfriend was forgotten.
he looked the same, but grown and decked out in red bull merch. she wanted to laugh at how innocent he looked when he tapped her on the shoulder to get her to turn around, he looked stupid, stupidly cute.
all of those feelings from when she was back in belgium came back, she almost forgot what it felt like to be around max— her max. he looked like he was going to cry when he got a good look at her, that he finally realized that yes, it's her. the one that left him in belgium all those years ago.
and maybe she could cry too.
"maxie?" a familiar nickname slipped from her lips and she didn't get a response back, but a bear hug in return.
god, her scent. it was everything to him. he fucking missed it— miss her.
"i thought... i thought you forgot about me," max buried his face into the crook of her neck, she too wrapped her arms around max and buried her face into his chest. his voice was so vulnerable, all she wanted to do was curl around him and tell him that she would never.
she shook her head as she sank into the hug, "i could never forget my maxie," she mumbled into his chest, he held onto her tighter. he never wanted to let go, not now, not ever. she was where she was finally supposed to be, right in his arms.
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once they got time alone after his race, max had stolen her away from her friend and dragged her into his driver's room, locking the door and pushing her against the wall, slamming his lips onto hers. he had been dreaming about this for so long, his lips on hers.
he didn't want to so sexual with her, no not yet. being in the small driver's room where they couldn't be free out of the public eye wasn't a good place. he just wanted to touch her, hold her, love her, make sure that she knew how much he had missed this.
missed them being together.
her hands instinctively went up to hold onto his shoulders, holding on for dear life as he kissed her softly. the feelings going through him were a mix of nostalgia, longing and love. he loved her for so long and it was so like her to show up when it mattered the most.
he won it for her today, to show her, that the little max she knew still had it in him to win and to impress her even with a world championship under his belt.
she felt the softness and the gentleness that max was touching her with, she knew how much he loved her. how much he care, how much he longed for her touch and she did too, only so much more.
she had so many questions in her, on why he never replied to the letters she sent or why he never sent any himself, not knowing what happened with her letters and why they never arrived properly.
but she didn't care at the moment, all she cared about was that she was safely in his arms, never to be let go ever again.
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safe to say, her lips were to the point of bruising that night. max had forbade her to go back home, or to be away from his sight. he had kissed her silly, not wanting to let her go and there she was, settled nicely in his arms.
it's not like she wanted to go anywhere anyway.
the movie in the background was long forgotten, max's lips felt like they were molded for hers. he had waited for her for so long, waited to feel her skin after so long and this just felt right, it felt right when he was with her.
"maxie— mmhh— my love, stop," she had to talk in between kisses, max didn't want to let her go, his fingers were basically imprinted onto her waist. she was straddling max as he sat upright and kissed her, so softly. like she would break if he was any harder, even though he absolutely did want to kiss her harder.
max released her from the kiss with a pout, his pretty lips were red and swollen from all the kissing they did. everything in the world just seemed to fade into the background when they were together, like everyone else in this world was so insignificant for their time and they were the only people worthy of each other's time.
"but why? i wanna kiss you, i miss you. i have waited for you for ten years, the least you can do is let me kiss you until you're sick of me," max mumbled against her lips and all she could do was giggle.
god, her laugh, he loved it.
she shook her head and left a final peck on his lips, "because i want to talk maxie, we can't just kiss whatever questions we have for eachother away," she told him but he seemed to think otherwise, she had moved back to put a bit of distance in between them, to make sure max didn't go in to kiss her again.
"oh yes we can, i don't care about the questions, schatje. i just wanna be with you, just like old days, but now it's so different because in those ten years without you, i finally realized what i felt and how i felt for you and i can't wait any damn longer to finally kiss those pretty lips of yours, so please. just let me do this for another three hours and we can talk," max begged as he pulled her closer.
she couldn't imagine kissing for another three hours as they spent the last hour doing it, but with him? she would do it for another life-time if she could.
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the both of them later had the serious talk when they were done kissing each other, now wanting answers from eachother. their legs were tangled and intertwined with each other's, not wanting to let go from their skin to skin contact.
"first off, why did you never reply to my letters? i wrote you so many. so many that i lost count, i would always write to you but you never replied, why?" max's voice came out strained, all of the painful feelings from the last ten years of his life were coming out, her doe eyes looked up from where she was, laying against his chest.
"you wrote me letters? i wrote you letters, you never replied. i thought you got too busy with your karting career to reply—"
"i could never get too busy to reply to you, but i never got any of your letters, schatje," max murmured against her forehead, kissing it gently after he spoke. she hummed a response before it dawned on her, she had always sent the letters to his father's address and she knew that his father wasn't fond of her, even offering her a huge lump sum of cash just for her to stay away from his son but she never accepted it, always choosing to be beside max, no matter what happened.
she looked up and sighed, she knew what happened now, she connected the pieces, "did you send your letters off to your dad?" she asked, and max nodded before it dawned on him too.
"that fucker hid the letters from you and never sent mine..."
she could only nod sadly, but it didn't matter now. all that mattered was that they were reconnected now.
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scattered around them were the countless of letters max had written to her and all of the letters from her that he never received, the years of pining, longing— all of them tucked neatly away into these little envelopes that held all of those unsaid feelings.
a soft sigh escapes her lips, she looked at all of them, there were hundreds maybe. all of them posted to where she stayed in korea but never sent, always kept in a big box where all of his letters were and hers were stuffed in there in a similar fashion.
her heart clenched when she saw how many there were, there were far more many than whatever she sent, even though she did send quite a big sum.
when max had found out, he stormed into jos' house and demanded to ask why he never sent out the letters that he wrote and a big fight broke out, she had to hold of max from physically harming his own father. then they left after given the big box filled with letters.
"there's so many..." she watched in awe as all of them were sorted by date, from the latest to the earliest, max looked up at her with those big blue icy eyes of his, he looked really sad. stuck in his feelings almost, not understand why his father would do whatever he did in the past.
max held her hand gently, pulling her into his embrace, "i have always loved you, even when i was a little kid. i just didn't understand what those feelings were, i just acted on how i felt and being away from you... i just couldn't. so i sent you my love in the form of these letters."
she left a lingering kiss on his cheek, she felt sorry for having to leave all those years ago. she should've fought, should've stood her ground on how much she wanted to stay but she was just a 16 year old kid who didn't know how to, "i know. i'm sorry i had to leave all those years ago."
"don't apologize, schatje. i have never blamed you for leaving me. i have always held love for you in my heart, even if you didn't know it."
"i always knew max, and i still do."
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very willing to do a part 2 to this btw, will only do it when requested tho. not proofread, excuse grammar mistakes.
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honey-tongued-devil · 10 days ago
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i Beg you i mean BEG YOU to do more chubby person x jinx or vi or something BECAUSE IM LITERALLY FATTT and i love the hcs
DROP ANOTHER ONE AND MY LIFE IS YOURS 🙇🏽‍♀️
[Arcane preference] with a chubby s/o pt.2- cuddle time
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The second request of the week. Honestly, as someone who isn't exactly slim, I write these headcanons for those who ask me but primarily for myself. Requests are open, as usual, I ask for your patience because English is not my first language. I'll leave you the link if you'd like to follow me on Bluesky (I'll be posting Arcane content there soon as well, i want to build a 'public' meanwhile).
| Tip jar |
Jayce:
- Starting with the fact that this man is built like a wardrobe, and his clothes are already pretty roomy, he’s started buying even bigger shirts just to make sure you can borrow them, they’ll be oversized on you, and you’ll be happy.
- So when you’re at home watching a movie or cuddling in bed, he strokes your belly with a smile, pretending to be surprised.
- “Is that my shirt?”
- This himbo, who handles a hammer that weighs as much as a horse, means no arguments when it comes to cuddles: you’re sitting in his lap.
- And when things get a bit heated, he’ll hoist you up with your knees on his shoulders, pressing you against the wall just to flex his strength and remind you that it’s absolutely no problem for him.
- After the dirty deeds, expect him to bring you something to eat (and especially drink) in bed, and don’t expect to be able to say no. 
Viktor:
- When you’re relaxing on the couch, it takes a moment to find a position that’s comfortable for both of you: usually, he sits upright with one leg stretched out, the other (his weaker one) draped over yours, and you either facing him or lying on your side with your head on his shoulder.
- The focus here isn’t on clothes, but blankets. They’re all queen-size, so the two of you can wrap yourselves up as comfortably as possible during cuddles without anyone getting cold.
- And when you stand up with one draped around you like a cape, he can’t help but chuckle and call you “Your Majesty.”
- As for clothes, you’d never think he’s clued in to your needs, but then you see the socks he buys for you both: to avoid any circulation issues, he only buys soft cotton and wool socks without elastic, so even at home, you always have cozy socks that match the season, like festive holiday ones.
- His secret move? Sliding his hands between your thighs when they’re cold, and playing with the little rolls there, pinching them when you’re cuddling.
- In your most intimate moments, he stops to kiss and nip at your thighs, leaving little constellations of marks that he traces over with his fingertips in the days that follow.
Ekko:
- Cuddle time is sacred.
- If he walks into the room and sees you sprawled comfortably on the bed waiting for him, a bomb alert goes off in his head: he shuts the door and runs to gather everything he might need.
- Water, snacks, extra blankets, anything he can think of.
- When he gets back and shuts the door behind him, he has a ridiculous grin on his face, warning you that he’s about to pounce with a playful growl, as if to show you just how much he wants to nibble you.
- Ekko is a huge fan of having your knees on his shoulders while you lie down, rubbing his cheek against your calf, and kissing it while you’re busy squirming.
- His favorite hobby? Getting his head caught between your thighs and becoming “deaf.”
- He’s always the big spoon because he has to protect you, hug you, and nestle his arms and hands into every soft spot.
- After any wild night, expect breakfast in bed and a hot bath waiting for you.
Vander:
- Zaun has a dreadful climate because the smog creates a thick layer of heat, but being underground and surrounded by cold materials, temperatures can drop sharply. So sometimes he shows up with a blanket, hands you a corner, and asks you to hold it for a moment.
- As soon as you take it, he calmly wraps it around you, picks you up, and carries you over to the fireplace, keeping you wrapped like a burrito on his lap while he enjoys his pipe for half an hour.
- Because of the cold, intimacy often happens right there in the living room, in front of the fire. Sometimes, he’ll give you the armchair and kneel in front of you, or you’ll both find yourselves on the rug.
- He’s a good lover, but don’t expect him to do much after expending all that energy at his age. On a good day, he’ll be a gentleman and carry you to bed; then it will your turn to cuddle and soothe him with gentle strokes as he enjoys them with his eyes closed.
- If it’s not a good day, he’ll pull the blanket over both of you and set the guard in front of the fire, resigning himself to the fact that you’ll be sleeping cuddled up either on the chair, the sofa, or even on the rug.
- In exchange, the next day, he’ll make it up to you with a long, hot bath and a massage.
Silco:
- This man has money, and he knows how to use it well.
- When the cold sets in Zaun, your bedroom becomes a place you’d never want to leave. Fur rugs are laid out on either side of the bed, soft, warm robes in matching colors appear in the closet, and if you want to stay in your den waiting for him while he works without freezing, you can even light the in-room fireplace.
- After he finishes his work, he washes up, dons his robe, and heads straight to bed, sometimes he doesn't even waiting, and begins going over his paperwork under the blankets while he absently strokes your shoulder or hair.
- If you complain enough, he’ll carefully gather up the papers, set them aside, and hover over you to kiss your neck and collarbones, sliding your robe aside so his lean, wiry body can press against yours.
- He’s incredibly gentle in everything he does, from how he touches to how he kisses or nibbles. Every movement makes you shiver, but he remains composed. Occasionally, between kisses, the cold tip of his nose brushes your skin, making you giggle; he then returns to your lips, asking for forgiveness before continuing his slow exploration.
- He’s the type for wine and a cozy dinner under the covers, a break for cuddles, and then back to work.
- If you protest that you’re eating too much, he’ll feed you himself—no time for nonsense (but always with a touch of tenderness).
Jinx:
- The most chaotic thing Jinx does is cross out or draw over posters that show people who are too skinny. They can’t make you insecure if you don’t see them, and any excuse for vandalism is a good one.
- With the cold setting in, her hideout transforms into a true nest: a heap of clothes and fabrics covered in blankets and throws to make everything softer and warmer.
- Jinx has cold feet, but it’s not her problem—it’s yours. She’ll press them against your stomach, your back, and if you react, it’ll only get worse.
- She’ll start laughing, and it’ll become personal. The only way to fight back is with tickling, but that would be a declaration of war.
- When you both finally calm down, she’ll wrap herself around you, clinging with her whole body, inhaling your scent deeply, and digging her fingers into your side.
- Don’t expect too much delicacy in intimate moments; if she needs you to move, she’ll grab and pull you into whatever position is most comfortable for her. She holds your legs up, and handles you like you’re her personal doll.
- For her, this is princess treatment; and the effort she’s putting in is what counts.
Vi:
- She buries her face in your chest, first and foremost. Feeling sad? Face in your chest. Happy? Face in your chest. Deep in thought? You guessed it—face in your chest.
- Her go-to stress reliever is squeezing your thighs and hips.
- During cuddles, she rests your head on her shoulder, strokes your back, kisses your forehead, and speaks softly.
- She always plays with your hair, and if it’s long enough, you’ll find small braids everywhere.
- When you’re cuddling in bed, she’ll either hold you close or be the little spoon herself, with one hand in yours and fingers intertwined.
- When things get more intimate, she becomes completely dependent on you, pressing her fingers so deeply into your skin that they leave marks, as if even that isn’t enough and she wants to be inside you, to reach into your very core.
- She never imposes anything; if you don’t feel like washing up, she’ll clean you up with a warm cloth, and if you don’t feel like getting up, she’ll carry you. Whatever you want, she’ll go along with it unconditionally.
- Occasionally, she’ll climb over you, propping herself on her arms, just to steal a flurry of kisses.
Caitlyn:
- Caitlyn can cook, and she will.
- Her way of cuddling starts at the table, with an evening set up like a royal banquet. Anything you like will be there, along with sweet and savory snacks, which, if there are leftovers, she’ll take to the coffee table or the bedroom so you can enjoy them later.
- There’s no rush; if you want to go for a walk or relax after eating, it’s fine by her—she just wants to be with you. She might ask a housekeeper for a bit of help, or she’ll clean up on her own while you get ready.
- If you lie down in bed, she’ll absolutely take the chance to gently knead your stomach like a cat, making you laugh but also helping you fall asleep rather quickly.
- She’s the ultimate big spoon, nestling her face into the crook of your neck and holding you tightly.
- When things get more intimate, she loves to look you in the eyes while she touches you, so she can savor every reaction, every shiver, watching your body melt with every move she makes.
- She becomes mesmerized by the way your body ripples under her touch, like there’s an ocean beneath your skin.
Mel:
- The real issue with Mel is that the rich never have anything better to do, so morning, noon, and night, they’re constantly organizing events. Breakfast at a noble’s home, brunch with the councilors, and of course, everyone must dine together. Tea at five with the Kirammans is absolutely sacred, and dinner is a moment for sharing ideas.
- Intimacy is this strange, almost absurd thing, as though everything is designed to give you no second of solitude.
- But when she does find a moment, she sits down and signals you to come into her lap or rest against her, cuddling you, playing with your earlobes, and winding her fingers through your hair until your eyes cross.
- She prefers giving affection to receiving it, simply because it feels like the only way she truly knows how to show love.
- Only in the deepest intimacy does she allow herself to do less, to enjoy your presence lying with her, to let go of control.
- She adores the way your body moves artistically, like it follows lines painted in oil, and these are the few moments where she can fully admire you.
- She’s quite strict afterward. You must drink those two glasses of water, and as you get up, she’ll call for someone to change the sheets and make the bed, so by the time you’re done showering, everything is ready and perfect.
Sevika:
- Bluntly put? She works with the chem barons, who are mostly old, misogynistic men with monocles embedded in their skulls, grotesquely altered rats with spider-like mechanical limbs, a very interesting gang of women in latex with disturbing port attachments, people with mechanical noses that pump in toxic stuff directly, and other highly modified, not-so-pleasant characters.
- I mean, sure, you have every right to feel insecure, but when she tells you you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to her, she’s being quite literal.
- Her delight in the fact that not only are you entirely flesh and blood but actually soft flesh is beyond words—she feels like she’s hit the jackpot with a premium relationship.
- There’s hardly a moment when she’s not touching you, holding your arms or cheeks in her hands, or kissing your skin.
- During cuddles, she prefers you on top of her, and if she’s calm and has enough time, she’ll even remove her arm.
- It’s a controversial choice, but she doesn’t want to be around you while wearing a weapon, and she doesn’t want you to see her the way she sees the chem barons. It’s almost a moral decision on her part.
- In bed, she can hold you easily with just one arm; she’s strong, it’s not an issue for her. But first and foremost, she wants to lie down with you, feel your soft arms, your chest, your waist where she can let herself sink in, and when you laugh because she’s tickling you, she kisses you.
- For her, the hardest part isn’t functioning with one less limb but letting herself appear calm, not on the defensive, even vulnerable.
- But she doesn’t regret it for a single second.
927 notes · View notes
nanaslutt · 11 months ago
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The JJK men’s fav cuddling postitions <3
incl: Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Choso, Sukuna, Toji, Megumi, Yuuji, Yuta
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cont: fluff :3, suggestive on Toji’s
note: i think this is my first full fluff fic…lol
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ
Gojo:
I know Gojo absolutely loves every position he can get you both into where you are physically as close as possible. Gojo's infinity is on automatically most of the time, the only touch he receives being from his students occasionally or from you. So when the time comes around for Gojo to be cuddled up with you, he needs to make sure every part of his body is touching some part of you.
I can see him being a fan of face-to-face cuddling, your limbs intertwined with one another, either his or your face pressed into the other's chest, your soft breathing tickling the skin of the other. Maybe something like the 'attack of the sloth' sleeping position. You on your back, Gojo's arms and legs wrapped around yours, leaving you completely enabled, his weight crushing you when you sleep; but you never complain.. well.. sometimes you do, Gojo's body is like a furnace.
Sometimes though, Gojo wants you to spoon him from behind. Of course, he loves it the other way around but theres just something so comforting about your small frame wrapped around his back. He feels so safe in your arms like this. He gets the same feeling one would when they were a kid, afraid of what was lurking in the dark, but the moment they pulled the blanket over their head, they were safe. Gojo felt untouchable, even more so than when he had his infinity on.
Geto:
A classic man, a simple man, a man of taste. I can see Geto loving the pretzel position. Him lying on his back, his toned arm above his head while his other wraps around your frame resting against him. His leg closest to you is bent, enabling you to interlace your leg with his, the appendage thrown over his thigh. He relishes in the feeling of your arm wrapped around his midsection, feeling safe and secure when you tuck you curl your fingers into his t-shirt on the side of his body.
He loves this position because he loves how close to you he feels, he also likes to see the size difference between the two of you when you're scooted down, your head on his chest. Another plus is he can scratch your back gently this way. His hands always find their way under your shirt, gently tickling and scratching the skin of your back, shoulders, and waist. He adores hearing you hum softly into his chest in approval at the relaxing caress.
You love this position for a variety of reasons as well. With your head on his chest, directly placed over his heart, you have free, unlimited access to the soothing rhythm of his softly beating heart, never failing to lull you into a peaceful sleep. You yourself were also guilty of slipping your hand under his shirt to feel up his abs. Running your fingers over the strong indents, counting them carefully in your head over and over, was the same to you as counting sheep. His skin was always so soft and warm, how could you resist?
Nanami:
Nanami's go-to is having you lay fully atop him, your head on the center of his chest, your bodies resting against one another while he strokes your hair. softly running his hands along your head, raking his fingers on the back of your neck, massaging your head, the whole nine yards. Nanami doesn't stop until he hears you lightly snoring on top of him.
Another thing about Nanami--if you drool or snore in your sleep, Nanami thinks it's the cutest thing in the world. You're always so embarrassed when you wake up and see the wet patch on his shirt after you had a particularly deep sleep, but Nanami finds it endearing; it means you felt safe with him, your body fully relaxing and letting go in his presence.
Another favorite is good ol' spooning. Nanami loves to be the big spoon. With both of your jobs as Jujutsu sourcerers, comes harrowing losses and injuries one cannot prevent, no matter how hard they try. So when Nanami gets the opportunity to completely encase your body in his strong, protective arms, it eases his nerves. He is constantly worrying about you, but in this moment he knows, nothing will touch you, nothing will get past his loving embrace.
This position gives Nanami unlimited access to the back of your neck. His lips instantly connecting with the soft skin, pressing soft kisses to the skin there, peppering down your shoulders, his fingers moving your nightshirt out of the way to touch your skin directly--god he loved kissing you. Your skin was so sweet and warm, how was he not supposed to kiss it? It was right in front of him after all.
Choso:
I have said this about Choso countless times, but he is a titty man.. so of course he's going to lay his head on top of your chest. He loves to feel the softness of your breasts agaisnt his cheek--if you have bigger breasts, you better bet he will lay face down and squish your tits around his face, holding his breath while he presses the fat against him, relishing in the feeling of your soft tits on his face.
His hands are without a doubt, on your chest as well. His large, warm hands engulf your tits in his grip, unconsciously feeling you up in his slumber, making you smile and laugh to yourself. He also loves wrapping his arms fully around your body too. The curse nuzzles his head against your chest while he slides his hands under the small of your back, his hands tickling the sides of your waist and back softly with the little mobility he has like this.
He has never felt love like this before, so when he feels your hands wrap around his back like it's the most natural thing in the world, it has his face heating up, a deep crimson blush spreading across his face while you rub his back, your nails raking over his back, over or under the thin material of his shirt. No matter how often the two of you cuddle together like this, he never fails to mumble how much he loves you into your chest, occasionally raising his head to look at you with a pout, still embarrassed even after all the time you spend together.
When you lean forward to press a kiss to his forehead, your fingers caressing his cheek before he drops his head back down to your chest to welcome the embrace of your arms around his body, he swears he's the luckiest man in the world.
Sukuna:
Your wrists and ankles are bound in chains while you sleep at the feet of his throne completely naked. <3
Toji:
I can see Toji being a fan of the 'pretzel' as well, same as Suguru. He gets a little more handsy most times, the hand he has wrapped around your back will creep down to the waistline of your night shorts. His thick fingers slip underneath the waistband, sliding under the band of your underwear as well as he grips as handful of your ass, massaging the fat in his hand, squeezing and rubbing it with his fingers.
At first, he did it as a way to tease you, and it worked, you always lifted your head to give him a stern look while he continued to massage the skin. Over time though, It became a comfort thing for the both of you. Whenever you're tired but Toji isn't, he'll turn down the volume of the TV in your shared bedroom and let you get comfortable on his chest, your ear resting where his arm and torso meet. He slides his arm around your frame, smiling to himself when you nuzzle and cozy up to him, his hand sliding down your back, rubbing up and down a couple times while you get situated.
When you get yourself to your desired position, throwing your leg over his hip; which meets his hand as he grabs it and pulls you over his pelvis more, caressing the side of your thigh soothingly; he slides his fingers into your underwear and stares groping you, his warm hands bringing you instant comfort, and familiarity. He'll continue to absentmindedly feel you up while he watches his show, his eyes occasionally darting down to look at you with softness in his eyes before he leans forward to press a kiss to the top of your head, drifting off soon after, leaving the TV running all night, as usual.
Megumi:
I imagine Megumi being super touchy with his significant other in private once he gets comfortable with you, but I still see him being a little awkward and shy about cuddling with you. It's so intimate after all. The two of you probably started with you lying on his chest with your hand resting on his tummy, you would have to make the first move because Megumi would rather die than initiate something like that at first, no matter how badly his body was itching to feel your warmth against him.
His body would go completely rigid when you laid on him out of nowhere. Megumi would hold his breath, not daring to move even in inches in fear you would move off of him. The weight of your head and your hand that was softly rubbing his tummy felt so comforting, although it did make goosebumps rise all over his body in shock. You would have to tip your head down to avoid him seeing your smile from hearing his heartbeat race out of his chest, the organ taking a significant amount of time before he gets used to your embrace, the rhythm slowing.
After a while of being together and countless cuddling sessions, I can see Megumi being more confident in initiating cuddle sessions when the two of you are watching TV or getting ready to go to sleep. His favorite positions are all of you cuddling him. You spooning him, him lying on your chest while his legs intertwine with yours--any position where your hands are wrapped around him and constantly caressing him in some way he is a huge fan of.
He also loves listening to your heartbeat. He didnt understand how you were always so calm, the soft lulling rhythm never failing to take him away to dreamland. He felt like he was going to have a heart attack every time you even smiled at him, but that was one of the things he loved about you--someone had to initiate the intimacy in the relationship and it sure as hell wasn't going to be him. If you weren't so forward, it probably would've taken him a year to even hold your hand on his own, so he was grateful you were more forward and verbal with what you wanted, because internally, he wanted the same as you, it just took a little coaxing to get him there.
Yuuij:
Yuuji has no preference! He loves each and every position, he just loves to cuddle with you. If he could always be touching you in some way, he would, and he sure as hell tries. You want to lay on his chest while he rubs your back? done. You want to spoon his large frame and wrap your leg over his waist while his fingers tickle your calf? done. Yuuji is ready for each and every cuddle position you propose to him, and he is not afraid in the slightest to initiate the cuddle sessions either.
I think Yuuji would find great joy in lifting your shirt up and crawling inside as much as his body could fit. His head resting on the soft skin of your tummy while your shirt blocks out most of the light emanating from the TV. "It feels like I'm a baby again." He would say, holding your hips in his hands on the outside of your shirt, his fingers tickling unconsciously along your sides, making you giggle.
I think Yuuji would really like coming home exhausted from training to sit in your lap and lay his head on your shoulder, his back arching slightly from the height difference between the two of you. He would hum into the crook of your neck while you stroked his back, raking your nails along him. He would smile to himself and close his eyes when you lift his shirt, scratching his warm skin directly while he falls asleep on your lap for a midday nap.
He was quite heavy and you're unable to breathe very well while he sleeps, but luckily he never naps long, and you do admit his weight crushing you felt weirdly nice, along with the ticklish puffs of his breath against your neck--it makes you feel close to him.
Yuta:
Yuta is a big baby. He handles enough in the Jujutsu world, trying to keep up his tough, strong persona while fighting, all he really wants when he comes to you is to relax completely in your embrace. Another man who loves it when you cuddle him from behind. He loves feeling your leg wrap over his waist, he knows he's not small, but he loves to feel like it sometimes, it's comforting.
One of his favorite positions to cuddle with you during the day is his head on your tummy/pelvis, his hands stroking along the length of your waist while you tangle your hands in his hair, running your nails over his sensitive scalp, down the back of his neck, reaching as much of his back as you can. It lulls him right to sleep, and he loves it. I think Yuta would struggle with falling asleep/sleeping through the night from insomnia, but when you're touching him, your warm embrace engulfing his body, he almost forgets about all the sleepless nights he spent without you by his side.
I can also see him loving to cuddle while facing you. Your head in his chest while he wraps his arms around you, and you likewise. Your legs tangled together, your bodies pressed as close as possible. During the summertime, this position is not the most comfortable because of the heat and the somehow awful AC Jujutsu high has. So during the colder months, the two of you constantly find yourselves in this position. He keeps his hand pressed snugly to the back of your neck, making sure your forehead stays pressed to his neck at all times.
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envy-of-the-apple · 3 months ago
Text
Moon Starves Sun (FULL VERSION)
Dark!Gojo Satoru x reader
Word Count: 5.8k
Part one: Sun Eats Moon
Part two: Earth Kills Moon
(Warnings: forced relationship, implied nsfw content, implied noncon/dubcon, dark content, implied baby trapping)
When Satoru's close like this, he can hear your heartbeat. 
It's been a while. Ten years. An entire decade. Everything about this is different, yet so familiar. He feels like he's finally reached the shores, feeling the warm sands underneath his feet. Like he's been given his favorite food after being starved for years. Everything melts. Everything except for you. 
He'd like to stay like this forever, listening to your rabbit heartbeat, feeling your soft skin, but for your sake, he pulls himself off you. Lying on a wooden desk probably isn't that comfortable. 
Your eyes are shut. Your breathing is shallow. You're so pretty like this under the moonlight. Your clothes are barely hanging onto your body. He can see every mark he's left on you. Part of him wants to make more, but he'll let you off the hook for now. He's nice like that. 
"Still with me?" 
Your eyes flutter open. You don't respond, but at least you're not crying anymore. He can work with that. 
"C'mon, pretty girl," he says, voice soft, "let's piece you back together." 
The belt left lines on your wrists. He'll kiss them better later. For now, Satoru collects your clothes and heels from the floor, placing them on the desk. He helps you reclasp your bra, runs his fingers on your arms when you finish buttoning your blouse. It's a quiet affair. Every so often, he'd catch your eyes. You don't let yourself linger for long. Satoru finds that a little cute. 
You say nothing when he wraps an arm around your waist, guiding you out of his office. Maybe you're still dazed, still gathering yourself back up, because you don't struggle as much as he predicted. You try to leave his grip when the two of you reach the lobby. He's quick to stop you. 
"Where, do you think you're goin'?" He grips your wrist when you take a step away. 
You look at him, eyes shimmering like water. 
You swallow. "My apartment. I—I need to go back—" 
He clicks his tongue, bringing you back in. 
"We can get your stuff later." He tells you with a grin. "let's just go home, tonight. I'm exhausted." 
You open your mouth. Satoru waits. You say nothing, and he thinks you're starting to get it. 
The moon is a dusky red tonight. Satoru thinks it's an ugly color. 
If Satoru could describe you in one word, it would be: predicatable. 
Normal, boring, a speck in the crowd—none of these are bad things. Just like how much of the universe is nothing, you're an empty void, too. Not everyone can be like him. From the minute he was born, Satoru was destined for greatness—a prodigy, heir to a millionaire conglomerate, the Sun itself. His life isn't written on his forehead for everyone to read. 
You are the exact opposite. Completely unassuming. He practically knows everything about you without even having to ask. 
Like how Satoru can instantly tell you've never been over to a boy's room before. 
You've probably never even been in a relationship before him, either. Even before he managed to corral you into his arms, you were always so annoying about the other things like school and friends. Though, you don't really have much of the latter anymore. His fault, Suguru never fails to remind him. 
He watches as your eyes linger over his shelf: the numerous trophies and awards. You're still standing meekly in the corner, still garbed in your school uniform, clutching your backpack. He has to roll his eyes at how obviously you're trying not to look at him. 
"What're you waitin' for?" He finally asks. You jump, eyes flitting over to find him before you find the floor. He resists the urge to roll his eyes again.
It's not like you two haven't done shit before. You sucked him off twice now, and he's finger fucked you against the bleachers. You should really stop being such a prude. 
"C'mere, pretty girl." 
You comply, dropping your bag, making your way to the bed. When you look at him from beneath your lashes, warily expectant, Satoru feels a thrill rushing through his body. 
He's always been impatient. It's in his nature to take. He nips at your mouth, eager to taste your soul from your soft lips. Soft. Everything about you is so soft—Malleable beneath his fingers. 
Satoru didn't explicitly say what his plan was, but you aren't stupid. He can tell you know what's about to happen when you stiffen in his hold, turn to stone within his grip. He would've allowed it if you hadn't gripped onto his shirt, pulling yourself away from his feasting. 
"Satoru?" You whisper, still leaning away. "The door...?" 
Annoyed, he glances over. His room is open. It shouldn't really matter. 
"It's fine." Satoru tells you. "No one's here." No one's ever here. 
You still look panicked, hands gripping his shirt. Satoru finds that adorably pathetic. How helpless you are. How that's all because of him.
He's sure to make a big show of it. Satoru gives a dramatic sigh, slumps his shoulders, but eventually pushes himself off the mattress to push at the door. He even clicks it shut. He's too nice, sometimes. 
"Happy?" You nod, you don't look very relaxed but your shoulders have dropped a bit. 
Satoru doesn't feel too guilty pushing you down, not when you're already in his bed. He isn't known for his patience. He tastes your skin, leaving marks when he can: teeth bites. He pushes you down down down down so he can sink his teeth into your flesh.
You're asleep and under the covers by the time he's done. The moon's out too. Satoru watches it, largely unimpressed. It's so tiny, a sliver of glowing white. 
And then you shift, turning ever so slightly, enough to catch his attention. He should probably kick you out and send you home. That's what he usually does. When he gets into bed with you, draping his arms around your limp body, he convinces himself it's because he's tired and waking you up would be too much of an effort. 
He lets himself enjoy your warmth; it's nothing like the cold glow of the moon. 
Sometimes, even Gojo Satoru wonders if he's dreaming. 
Sometimes, life is too perfect for him to realize it is real. Everything falls perfectly in place, fitting together like those jigsaw puzzles his caretakers used to distract him with halfheartedly. 
You're in his kitchen, chopping vegetables. 
It had already been a few weeks, but he still wasn't used to this. You, being in his home, in his kitchen, in his bed. Satoru thinks he's masking it well, but his mind is still reeling, it's a difficult adjustment. 
Not a bad one. 
It's like he's been drowning for years and he can suddenly breathe when he sees your toothbrush next to his. It's like he's been stabbed and waking up to your sleeping face is the aloe. It's like he's been suffering through a blizzard, and you cooking in his kitchen, humming a song he doesn't know, is the warm sunny day. 
Things have changed since he brought you home. His home doesn't feel incomplete anymore. As though the apartment itself has agreed that this is where you belong. There are more clothes in his closet, more shoes by the door. The space is ever so slightly less empty and it fills him with tangible relief. He can cook a meal, but it's still nice coming home to something warm already made. 
It makes Satoru wonder what things could have been like, had it not been taken away from him. 
You flinch when he wraps his hands around your waist, nestling into the space in your shoulder. You hadn't heard him come in, apparently. Regardless, you don't linger, fingers hesitating before resuming your task. He finds this part of you adorable. Ignoring the thing that makes your heart race, as though he'll just fade away into the shadows. 
It's his ego that makes him slink into your warm skin, making sure you know he isn't going anywhere. 
"Smells good," he says. 
You nod, pushing away the bell peppers in favor of the onions. Unlike him, you acclimated extremely well. It'd taken nothing to lightly push you to add more and more stuff from your apartment to his. You quietly moved from one setting to another. He remembered this trait of yours from high school. Go with the flow. 
Though, perhaps, it was less out of genuine apathy. Satoru doesn't have to say what will happen to you if you refuse him. He doesn't have to throw lectures about his family and the influence he has on you. He likes that you aren't stupidly brave. He likes that you're meeker, quieter. You pick your battles. 
But he thinks he'd like to see you crack, just one more time. 
"Hey," he says, "let's go out for dinner tomorrow night. There's this restaurant just out of town that has great shrimp cutlet." 
He expects you to nod, like you always do whenever he decides to do something impulsive and meaningless. Instead, you bite your lip. 
"I can't." You mutter after a minute of silence. "I have work. Mr. Higuruma just closed a deal and—and I think I'll be coming home later and later this week." 
Home. It's enough to make his heart flutter. It's the first time you've called the apartment that. Your words almost make him forget about the second thing you said.
Higuruma. The lawyer guy with dead eyes. Satoru remembers him. He always looked at Satoru like he was a child, too stupid to do anything. He never liked how the guy looked at you. Besides, he was way too old for you, never mind that you were taken. You were always taken.
"Oh, right." Satoru gives an exaggerated sigh, fully leaning on you. "Work. What a shame." 
You nod, clearly thinking the conversation is done with. Satoru wasn't so charitable. 
"Y'know, you don't really have to work. Not anymore, pretty girl." His grip on your waist tightens ever so slightly as he pulls you towards his chest. Your hands freeze. The knife glints in your fingers. 
"I make plenty of money. You should just stay home. That way, you don't have to work shitty hours." 
You stiffen underneath his fingertips. He's disappointed when your skin turns frigid. When he peeks over your shoulder, intent to look at your face, there's a nervous smile twitching on your lips. 
"I don't think that's a good idea..." you trail off hesitantly. 
"Hm?" He tilts his head with faux confusion. "Why not?" 
The knife moves up and down, as though you can't decide whether to place it back on the cutting board. Satoru realizes it's your way of fidgeting. 
"It...it would just be unprofessional to leave when everything is so hectic." You finally decide on. 
Satoru scoffs. "So? Who cares. I'm sure everything will work itself out. Just rely on me, pretty girl." 
You don't like the answer, but you don't make a comment on it. Satoru just watches you rotate the knife in your hands. He wonders if you want to use it on him. Slice at his neck, leave him out to bleed on the pretty tile floor. Cut straight through his heart, ending it quickly. 
Or would you like to carve out his eye and keep it as a souvenir? He thinks he'd happily let you. It sounds romantic.
You don't do anything. Instead, you pull back your shoulders as if you're physically ready for war. 
"'Toru," you say gently, softly, and it works in his eyes, "I...can't let you support me like this. It's not right. It's not like we're married or anything." You laugh, like it's a joke. Satoru doesn't cave. 
"I mean, not yet." Satoru rocks you back and forth in his hold. "But gimme' some time to shop for a ring, okay? It needs to be perfect for my perfect girl." 
You follow his movements. He can see your mouth twitch out of the corner of his eye. Your eyes get glassy. 
He knows he's terrible, but he really wants you to crack. 
"You're right, Satoru." You say, "I'll put in my two weeks tomorrow." He grins in delight. 
"That's a great idea, baby." Satoru kisses you on the cheek.
Right, you pick your battles. 
Satoru tells you he loves you, and you're gone, not even three days later. 
He breaks and shatters into pieces he'll never be able to put back. Each day without you is torture. He feels like a corpse, just going through the motions. His clothes feel looser. His skin doesn't feel like his own anymore. Every time he looks in the mirror, he sees someone he barely even recognizes. 
It's like you left with his heart. 
No, you ran away with his soul. 
One day, you were Satoru's, safely tucked underneath his arm...the next, you just weren't. 
His parents don't acknowledge it beyond casual disgust. Every time Suguru talks to him, Satoru can barely comprehend it. Days pass by. Everything reminds him of you. His bed feels emptier; he hates it when he reaches out to the space you used to take up and finds it cold. Your locker remains untouched. Nothing is ever the same. 
Satoru tries looking for you, but you're untraceable. No social media, no friends left to tell where you went, not even your fucking parents know where you are. 
You left him. 
You left him to rot. 
Denial comes first. It can't be. You wouldn't. You wouldn't fucking dare. Anger seeps in the next. For weeks, Satoru can only imagine what he'll do when he finds you. He'll break your legs this time. He'll squeeze your neck so hard that your head pops. He'll kill you over and over again until your corpse is begging to be forgiven. And he won't ever stop, because you're Satoru's. 
That doesn't stay for long. He feels himself get weaker day by day. Food tastes like dirt on his tongue. Any of his earlier vices are gone. 
He misses you. 
Why wouldn't he? You were his everything. 
Like all things, it passes. You aren't there to fuel the flames, so the fire wanes in his chest. The ache in his heart gets smaller and smaller. Things keep him busy. College. Then, his new position in the office. 
Ten years pass. He’s forgotten what you look like. But he remembers parts. Every so often, he sees a flicker of you within someone else. Your eyes are on another woman’s face. Your lips on a girl's smile. It irritates him to no end. It’s even worse when he starts seeking them out, keeping those parts of them for just the night. 
Sometimes, if he closes his eyes, he can still hear your voice—what he thinks is your voice—soft, needy Toru Toru Toru. 
“Gojo, sir?” 
He blinks. Ijichi stands in front of him. Satoru looks down at the meticulously crafted pages. 
“Mr. Higuruma needed you to sign this,” Ijichi lifts a paper filled with bureaucratic bullshit he pays other people to understand.
Why did Suguru take off now? 
“Sure sure,” Satoru says, “I’ll get it done.” 
Ijichi shifts nervously. “Well, it’d be best to finish it right now, Sir. His paralegal is just about to leave the building.” 
Oh, right. The lawyer’s assistant. Gojo could never get a good look at that person, but the assistant resembled a shaking deer to him at most times. He’s not even sure if they’ve ever talked to each other, but he always found the other a bit odd. Big eyes. A shaky expression. 
It was a little annoying to look at. 
Some executive was throwing an office gala, and since he is Gojo Satoru, he needed to come along. 
And since you are Satoru's, you're dragged along too. 
Honestly, the only upside to this is you and that new dress he bought you. A velvet turquoise dress that he can't take his eyes off of. The gold jewelry draped across your neck makes you even more delectable. But his favorite part of the outfit is the shimmering diamond ring. 
The ceremony hadn't been anything extravagant. He'd just booked out one of his favorite restaurants, ordering lobster and sweet wine. He remembered hearing his heartbeat when he bent down on one knee, opening the elegant ringbox, like an oyster revealing its pearl. Looking back, he didn't know why he was so nervous: it's not like you'd say no. 
"What do you think of it?" He asked when you were back in his bed, bare from everything except that glistening ring. 
"It's pretty." You spoke, perfectly nestled in his chest. 
He feels in his heart when he hugs you, a small kiss in your hair. You say something, but he can't hear it; he is too preoccupied with feeling you in his arms. It's still so new, even after all these weeks. It's the anxiety, knowing at any second you could leave and he'd be nothing. He won't allow that, he can't. 
"I thought about something else, y'know?" He speaks quietly in your hair. "Ropes, chains, maybe. I could keep you here, forever. But—but then I realized how sad you'd get. I couldn't go through with it." 
You give no reaction. When he tilts your chin up to get a better look at you, your eyes are glassy. 
"You get that, right?" 
You nod. He's really too nice, sometimes. 
He spends the entire evening with you, tucked away in a corner, away from prying eyes. Just because he has to be there doesn't mean he has to be sociable. Every time someone walks up to him and you, a drink in one hand, he resists the urge to bite their head off, feigning politeness. He complains about their lack of decorum to you multiple times throughout the night, his head resting on your shoulder. You pliantly sit there, listening and nodding. 
About ten minutes after the last board member left, someone else walks up. By then, Satoru's patience has mostly declined. He peers over with disdain before he can really process who he's seeing. 
"Suguru!" He waves over. 
You stiffen, and Satoru remembers you haven't seen him in ten years. 
Suguru walks over with an easy smile on his face. He's nicely tanned, and Satoru is reminded of the pictures he sent over of the Maldives. Maybe that's where the honeymoon should be. 
"Had fun slacking?" Satoru asks with a grin; Suguru shrugs. 
When his eyes meet yours, he feigns delighted surprise. Suguru speaks your name with practiced shock. It's imperfect, only Satoru can see the amusement dripping from his fangs. 
"Long time, no see!" Effortlessly, Suguru corrals you into a hug. You follow, giving into the cold touch of affection before pulling away back to him. 
"Hello, Geto." You say when you're rightfully by his side again. "It's nice to see you again." 
Suguru laughs, light and airy. "You as well!" He looks at your hands, tilts his head. "Oh? Congratulations, you two! When's the date?" 
"Eh, we'll figure that out later." Satoru gives a quick kiss on your cheek. "Everything happened so fast, y'know? Us reuniting and everything: It feels like fate." Suguru's eyes flash. "Let's not rush this. We'll take our time." 
Suguru nods along thoughtfully. He's looking right at you, and you stare right back. Not used to feeling left out, Satoru is quick to intervene. 
The conversation is light, two long-time friends reuniting after a long spell. You stay quiet like decor, settling into Satoru's side. Suguru doesn't acknowledge you after that. 
"We gotta' go. It's getting late." He eventually says, tugging you along. 
Suguru gives a pleasant smile. "Of course, of course. We should catch up sometime." He directs this at you. You give a strained smile before Satoru leads you off. 
"Suguru." The man turns. Satoru grins. 
"I loved my gift. Thanks, man." 
Suguru's smile is catlike. 
"You kids have fun." He calls out right when Satoru's dragging you away all over again. 
You're silent. Not in the way you usually are, pliant and cute. You're thinking. He gives you a nudge. 
"What's goin' on in that pretty head of yours?" 
You shake your head. "Nothing." And then you say, "He's changed." 
From your view, Satoru supposed that's true, but really—
"Nah." Gojo shakes his head. "He's just dropped his act." 
Satoru's hand was wrapped around your waist when you two ran into him. You hadn't noticed him yet, eyes fixed on the floor. The lawyer hadn't changed since the last time Satoru saw him. That dead expression, those creepy eyes. Higuruma's eyes flit over your figure, before he finds Satoru's. 
He stares. Satoru stares right back. Something gives, and the lawyer calls out your name. 
"How are you?" His tone is cool, and this is another reason why Satoru can't stand him. The guy has no tells. He's just a talking robot. 
Unlike you, fidgeting by his side, practically vibrating with nerves. 
"I'm fine, sir." Your smile gets more painful to look at by the second. 
Your voice earns you a tired smile, a mild pinch of humor. Higuruma shakes his head, waving you off. 
"No need for formalities. We aren't at work." His smile drops just a bit, as he watches you for a bit more, eyes flickering to your hand. "I was...surprised when I saw the announcement. I didn't know you and Mr. Gojo were involved." 
Satoru grins, making himself known like a shark in the water. His grip on you tightens. 
"Oh, you didn't tell your boss 'bout us, baby?" He looks down at you with cruel mirth, pinching your cheek. You wilt. "We go way back—highschool sweethearts. Lost contact for a couple years. It's actually thanks to you we were able to find each other again. We'll send you the invites." He presses a kiss to your hairline. 
Higuruma hums at that. Satoru expected jealousy in his eyes; he's even more upset when he finds none. 
"I'll be sure to save the date." 
Then he shuts Satoru down completely. 
"I heard about your resignation. It's sad to see you go," Higuruma says. 
You nod, but you don't look at him. "Satoru and I talked about it, and we decided it's best if I focused on other things." 
"Very, very busy, this one nowadays." Satoru interrupts. "Between wedding plannin' and all that."
"Is that so?" Higuruma says dismissively, "in any case, you already knew this, but I've begun preparations to start a new firm." He reaches into his wallet, pulling out a card. "I always thought you were good at what you do. If you ever want to get back into the industry, call me." 
You take the laminate slip with a quiet thank you. Satoru feels blue turn into red. 
When Higuruma slips into the party, Satoru tightens his grip on you a little harsher than necessary. He's dragging you through the halls. Behind him, he can hear you stumbling over your heels, begging him to slow down. He knows he should care, but he doesn't. That damn lawyer. Those dead eyes. Mocking him. 
"Did you fuck him?" He asks when his anger has reached a high enough peak that he presses you against the wall. 
Your eyes are wild, flitting back and forth. He'd your expression a little cute if he wasn't feeling like a furnace, at the moment. 
"No. I—we never." You say. "Mr. Higuruma was my boss. And—and he's married—" 
"Really? 'cause you're precious 'Mr. Higuruma' was eyeing you up and down like he's already seen what's underneath." 
"'Toru." You plead. "Let's—let's just talk about this at home. Please? Let's just go home." Home. You said that word again. If he were a better man, he'd melt, but he's not. 
"Shut up." He spits out. "Hike up your dress." 
You stare at him. Then, you try to smile, like he's making a shitty joke. It wavers on your lips. 
"It's...we're still in public." You whisper and it's so cute you think he'd actually care about that. "We—we can't...we shouldn't—" 
"Baby." His voice drops, as he licks at your neck. "Pull up your dress, get rid of those panties. Otherwise, I'm just gonna take it off myself." 
He doesn't need to explain anything further. You already get what he's saying. Right now, Satoru doesn't care if you leave this building with your clothes intact. 
He thinks the worst part is that he knows he's being unreasonable. He's backing you into a corner where you'll have no choice but to surrender, and he knows that, but he keeps thinking about those man's eyes and how he looked at you and it was just all so much. 
He'll apologize to you later, with flowers and shiny gold earrings. He'd give you the world; just be good for him now. 
He just needs his fix. So just be good for him now.
When Satoru discovers it's been you all along, he feels like an idiot. 
In a pathetic way of defending himself, he convinces himself there's no way he could have recognized you. You're so different compared to your high-school self. 18-years old, fresh-eyed, naive. The you now is all grown up: a mature voice, a new hairstyle, clothes he'd never even think you'd wear. 
It also didn't help that he couldn't even see your face since you turned away every time he looked at you. 
Embarrassing. He's just glad Suguru wasn't here to call his blunder. 
He thought about it a lot. He spent an hour in his office, pacing around, doing nothing but thinking and thinking and thinking. Part of him wants to corner you already. He can already feel your rabbit heartbeat on his fingertips, the look you always had in your eyes when he was right in front of you. Part of him wants to ruin your life the same way you ruined his. He wants to tear you apart, piece by piece. Leave you in tattered pieces. 
But he can't do that. Satoru still loves you. 
You left him a hollow shell. Broken. Tainted. There are pieces of him he still can't find. He should hurt you. He's hurt other people for doing less. But they weren't you. Even after all those years, he's never quite stopped loving you. 
But he wants to sate his bloodlust, just a tiny bit. 
His perfect opportunity comes where he, the lawyer, and you are all sitting in one of the waiting rooms. The lawyers explaining something, possibly about the ongoing case. Satoru doesn't really care. Besides, this is what Ijichi's here for. 
He waits until everyone is quiet. You're unassuming. By then, your shoulders have lowered, like you think you've gotten away with it 
"Hey," he says, "do we know each other?" 
The other two don't bother, but you stop completely. The pen in your grip shakes. Satoru resists the urge to laugh. 
You timidly glance up like you're still delusional enough to think there's a fifth person he's talking to. Satoru has always been told his eyes are like two suns: bright and intense. He lowers his glasses. You wilt under the solar flares. 
"Hm?" He prods, enjoying the way you shrivel. "Have we?" 
You swallow, glassy eyes flicking from side to side. Finally, you clear your throat. 
"No." You mutter, voice barely a whisper. "I don't think we have." 
"Are you sure?" To intensify the magnifying glass, he leans closer, like he's examining you. "'cause you look really familiar." 
To his delight, you chew on your bottom lip. He can imagine biting it until it's bloody and raw. He stops just when you're about to shatter completely. Breaking you too soon would take the fun out of it. 
"Oh, wait. I don't think that was you." He relents, pulling back and he can see the relief ooze over your face. "I think I got you mixed up with someone who interviewed here a couple months ago. My bad. Maybe you have one of those faces." 
You nod, eager to take the out. 
"Yes," you quickly say, "one of those faces." 
How adorable. You haven't changed since high school. 
He's usually not this obvious, but Suguru isn't here to berate him about it and it's not like anyone else will get on his ass. The women he brings in are his usuals: tall models with full lips and perfect bodies. Satoru parades them around like expensive jewelry. He wants to see you seethe in envy, stew in it. He wants you to see what you abandoned. 
But you don't do any of that. You just sit there, like the dutiful little workbee you are, right by your boss's side.
And then, you give one of them your jacket. Satoru can't stand it wrapped around her waist like she fucking owns it—own you. She wears it so flagrantly, like any token from you shouldn't be worshipped and coveted. He hates it. He hates it. 
"I've never done this in an office before." She squeals when she shuts the door behind her. "So, how do you—" 
"Get out." 
The girl pauses. What was her name again? Satou was too pissed to give a single shit. 
"Um, what?" 
"What, you deaf or something?" He waves her off as if he weren't seething. "Get out." 
"Oh," she says, blinks, and then she takes a step back. 
"Wait." Satoru stops her. 
"Take that off." He points to your jacket. She does it with zero complaints. When he tells her to drop it on the chair, she follows that too. Reluctant expectation. Kind of like you. Maybe that's why he was initially invested in her. 
He only takes the fabric after she's gone. It's soft underneath his fingertips. Nothing designer, but good quality. When you're finally underneath him again, he'll buy you better clothes, all the jackets you want. 
He needs you. He can't wait anymore. 
He needs you, whether you want him or not. 
Satoru wakes up to something crashing. 
It's faint, obviously coming from the bathroom. Not the best way to be woken up. He remembers the first few nights he brought you home. He'd hear you crying in your sleep, choking on tiny sobs. It was the sweetest little thing, like a whimpering puppy. 
These noises are a little more concerning. 
He yawns, sliding out of bed. You didn't bother locking the door. You didn't even close it all the way, either. A sliver of light comes from the crack before he pushes it open. 
"Baby?" He calls. You don't answer. 
You had knocked over a caddy. Toothbrushes, hairclips, soap dispensers, perfume bottles were scattered all over the floor. You're curled up in the corner of the bathroom, huddled right next to the tub. You seem physically okay, no blood, no bruising, but he can't see your face. And you're shivering. 
Satoru's about to call out to you, when he steps on something. He looks down at the tiles. 
A positive pregnancy test. 
"I'm not keeping it." Your voice is hoarse, like you've been crying for hours. "I'm not keeping it." 
"Pretty girl." He coos, trying his best to keep the glee out of his voice and failing. "Let's not worry 'bout that, right now. C'mon, let's get you off the floor." He reaches for your hand. You smack it away. It stung. 
When you look at him, eyes bloodshot and brimming with angry tears, Satoru's heart skips a beat. He feels like he just trapped a wild animal, making it pace in a corner. Any wrong move could result in his hand getting bit off. It's scary. 
He's finally cracked you. 
"Fuck you." Your voice shakes and wobbles, but it's loud and you're clear. "Fuck you. You're a sick, twisted man-child. You ruined everything. You ruined my entire life and—and now you—" 
You're cut off by his giggling. It sounds psychotic even to his ears. He's beyond caring. You flinch when lifts your face up, forcing you to look into his eyes. He's smiling so hard it hurts. 
"Yeah, I did that. I ruined you. I ruined your entire fucking life. For me." He stresses, squeezing your face so hard you try to pull away. "But I had to. You—you wouldn't be here if I didn't." He sighs, pressing your body to his. "I need you."
You're both huddled on the bathroom floor, captive and lover. He's clutching you to his chest, smiling, nestling his face in your hair. You don't say anything for a while. 
"I'm not keeping it." You whisper. "I'm not. I wouldn't stand it if it ended up like you." 
It's spiteful. You're still in that phase where you think your venom can hurt him, as though he'd see your blows as anything but blessings. Satoru thinks to his own childhood. Where he was given everything, lathered in gold and silver. Yet, the house was always cold. But you were always so warm. 
"That won't happen." He tells you. "'cause you're here." 
Your anger has dwindled to smoke. Maybe you've finally realized how crazy he was for you. 
"Please let me go." It's not a beg. It's not even a request. 
"I can't," he honestly says. 
"You won't." You correct him. 
He smiles in your hair. 
"No baby," he says, "I can't." 
If you ran away again, if you escaped his claws, he'd probably die. Drop dead, rot on the floor. He needs you. Even more than he needs food, water, and oxygen. You won't understand that. You've never been in love before. 
You don't fight him. If anything, you sink into his hold. He's there to catch you, heart soaring. You lean into his chest 
"I hate you." You whisper. His heart beats a little faster. It's probably the first time you've ever been so honest with him. 
God, he loves you. 
"I hope our baby has your eyes," he says. 
"I hope our baby looks exactly like you." 
You say nothing, but when he leans down to kiss you, you finally kiss back. You're cracked, and your essence is ready to be molded in his image, just like he's always wanted you to be. 
If Satoru is the Sun, then you must certainly be his universe, the plane in which he rests, because there would be no existence for him if not for you. 
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lalunanymph · 4 months ago
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𝟏𝟏:𝟒𝟗𝐏𝐌 ─── your husband notices everything about you—even the things you don't notice about yourself
˚୨୧⋆ sylus x wife!reader
˚୨୧⋆ warnings: wife!reader, reader has just given birth a few months ago, jealous sylus!!, pregnancy, implied mentions of a fight, injuries, mentions of b/lood, explicit s/mut, implication of o/ral, teasing, petnames (wife, darling, doll, sweetie), daddy k/ink, breeding, shamelessly self-indulgent AND very selfship-coded :')
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Nothing ever escapes Sylus’ attention. 
Other than cunning resourcefulness being his trademark which many associate with ravens—his favorite bird—another marker of your husband’s personality is that like a hawk, he’s acutely aware of everything.
Tonight’s date night after you’ve given birth to the twins didn’t go exactly as planned.
While Sylus was in a convenience store, buying the both of you drinks to whet off the balminess of the summer evening, you were approached by an obviously drunk man who asked if you were here alone.
After countless times of trying (and failing) to convince him that your husband wouldn’t be too happy about his unwanted advances, the man in question whose ring is around your finger appears, tall and imposing.
Safe to say, the night ended with one bloody nose, and a pair of split knuckles, the latter being the ones you were currently patching up. 
Your husband is reclining back against the plush pillows, black dress shirt unbuttoned slightly and showing off the deep divot of his pecs. His face is a mixture of emotions—anger, frustration, possessiveness, a hint of concern. All coalescing into one tense ball he keeps close to his chest as the adrenaline from the encounter with that sleazebag still hums through his veins. 
You stow your phone back into your purse, sighing.
“I've texted Sara to keep the twins for the night. I think we're both too angry and might say or do something rash.” 
His expression softens and he lets out a sigh, the anger and tension slowly starting to ebb away as he gazes at you.
“... that’s good. I wouldn’t want them to see me in this state.” 
You sigh again, picking up his bandaged hands.
“Y’know, I did tell him my husband was a big, scary man, but he still persisted in demanding a date,” you bring your husband’s knuckles to your lips, kissing the contused flesh softly. 
Sylus grunts, rolling his eyes, though his expression softens at your sweet gesture. “Some people just don’t know when to take a hint… so, I had to make a point.”
You scoff, clutching his hands tighter. “Yes. By socking him in the face. Very classy.”
Instead of appearing reticent like a sane person would, Sylus chuckles. “Didn’t see you complaining when you were cooing all over me, patching up like a good, little wife.”
His words make a flash of heat run through you, and you shoot him an exasperated glare. “Well, at least you looked sexy doing it. Punching that asshole in the face. Consider that compensation for tonight’s turn of events," politely, you add, “Thank you for defending my honor, darling.”
He lets out a low chuckle, and wraps his arms around you, pulling you onto his lap. Crimson eyes darken with a mixture of desire and affection, his thumbs rubbing circles on your hips. 
“No need to thank me, sweetie. It’s always a pleasure of mine to defend your honor. No one gets to disrespect you without facing repercussions.” 
You squirm in his lap, hitching a breath when you feel his hands play with the straps of your dress. Slowly, he drags them down, touch hot and insistent as the pads of his fingers graze your bare shoulder.
“Really, Sylus?” You try to look vexed, but the breathlessness his touch incites only fuels him to misbehave further. “Defending me has seriously gotten you all hot and bothered?” 
Your husband grins at your teasing tone, a wicked gleam in his eye as he continues to push the straps of your dress down further, baring more of your skin to his heated stare. His hands continue to explore, tracing over your exposed skin. 
“Hmm. I suppose seeing you in danger… really ignited something in me. Hearing someone insult you and disrespect what’s mine… makes me want to claim you all over again.”
Warmth fills your cheeks, and you fail to fight back a shiver. “T-that doesn’t make any sense.” 
Sylus’ fingers are now trailing your collarbone, tracing the marks he left there from the night before.
“It doesn’t need to make sense, doll. It’s something primal. Seeing you in danger like that… and the look on your face when I punched that idiot senseless… It's titillating. I just want to claim my wife, remind you and everyone else that you belong to me, body and soul and future baby.” 
Heat licks down your spine, and you shudder at his words. 
“F-future baby?” 
Sylus’ hands snake to your bare back, caressing the expanse of skin with soft, ticklish circles. Without warning, he leans in, lips hovering close to your ear, his breath hot against your skin.
"Yes, doll. Future baby. I'm going to fill you with my seed. Breed you over and over until I'm sure you're pregnant. And in a few weeks, we'll have a mini-us growing in your belly, a physical reminder of my claim on you."
His words are soft and sound almost sweet, but the filthiness in them makes you gasp, involuntarily arching your body into his. 
“Sylus…”
The idea of him claiming you again so boldly after defending you from danger turns you on like nothing in this world can. You know you have much to discuss with him about having another baby, considering you had just given birth to Sabrina and Protus a few months ago. But, in this instance, desire overtakes logic and all you want is to feel your husband deep inside you again. 
His lips are cool when they touch your jugular, trailing down the column of your neck until they reach your heaving chest. 
“Sy…” you whisper, eyes fluttering close. “Stop… teasing me.” 
You want this, he realizes with a jolt. You want this as much as he does. 
He lets out a low chuckle, hands continuing to caress every inch of your skin. 
“Oh, my pretty little doll. It’s not teasing anymore. It’s a promise.” His lips touch your ear, the heat of his breath and words snapping the last of your resolve. “And you know I never break my promises, doll.” 
A whimper slips from your parted mouth. The heat in this room is too much to bear, pressing down on you with the weight of an ocean closing in.
You can barely breathe when you exhale, “Breed me. Please… breed me.” 
Your bastard of a husband grins at your desperate plea, his hands gripping your hips tighter. It’s the predatory confidence of a man who knows he has you completely at his mercy, begging for him to claim you completely. 
“Say it again,” his fingers dance to the hair at the nape of your neck, sinking his fingers into your soft locks and using it to snap your face up to meet his darkened gaze. “Tell me you want me to breed you. Tell me you want to only belong to me.” 
The bite of pain pulls a wanton moan from your trembling lips, and you lose all bearings and composure, giving in to the desire which always leaves you wanting more of him on your knees.
“Oh god... please... breed me, Daddy. Make me yours. P-put a baby inside of me and make me a mama again…” 
Sylus’ eyes darken at your plea, the possessive need flaring in his chest. Those blood-red eyes burn with the desire of keeping and making his promise come true.
“Lay back, sweetie. Go on—there’s a good girl.” His bigger body hovers over you, pressing you into the bed. “Good girl. You're such a good girl, doll. Asking Daddy to breed you, begging to be filled with my seed, to carry my baby. You're mine. Mine to breed, mine to claim. Mine to make you a mommy again."
His words whip through you like an electric shock. You gasp, eyes fluttering and body arching further into his touch. 
“Please… yes…” 
As much as his self-control is reaching its breaking point, he needs to hear the words coming straight from your mouth; his grip on your hips tighten, eyes darkening with possessiveness. 
"You want this, doll? You want Daddy to fill you up—make sure you're pregnant with my baby?"
Your nod is equal parts desperation and desire. You lick your lips, nodding.
“Yes,” your whisper is like a bullet tearing through his chest, leaving it hot and stinging with pure need. “Yes, I want it so badly.”
Sylus groans, your words igniting the unquenchable thirst inside of him to make you his, his, his. 
Tearing the flimsy dress off your frame, he digs his fingers into your hips, mouth leaving a burning trail of kisses and bites across your neck, your jaw, your chest. 
Your hands grapple at his clothing, pulling off his expensive, tailor-made button-down and slacks, reaching into the heart of him to expose him fully to your lustful gaze. 
He sucks and licks on your nipples until they become all puffy and swollen just for him, and the second you tell him you can’t take it anymore, Sylus stakes his claim by sinking inside of you—inch by delicious inch.
Your pretty, milky pink nails stab into his shoulders, dragging down red lines across the pale expanse of his back. Your heels dig into his hips, and the way you’re desperately clinging onto him, makes him wonder if you want to fuse your body as one with his. 
“Sy… Sylus…” 
Fuck. He digs his teeth into the soft flesh of your neck, strong hips snapping forward, giving you one powerful thrust after another. Your walls suck him so perfectly, like you were made for him. 
He fills you up over and over again, until every load becomes more painful. But, you can't get enough. You keen, beg, and cry for more, milking his promise to make you a mama again for what it’s worth.
Hours seem to pass, ravaging passages of time that are marked by more cum filling you; his shuddering, animalistic groans for you take it darling, take it all, take all of me like music to your ears.
Sylus collapses on top of you, breathing hard and red in the face. His chest heaves as he tries to catch his breath, his hand coming to rest gently on your stomach, caressing the soft skin with shaky fingers.
“Mhm… you’ll be the death of me one day, you know that, sweetie?” 
Giggling, you use what remains of your strength to twine your arms around his shoulders. The both of you stay like this for a while, slowly coming down from the high.
Briefly, your hand grazes your belly, and you wonder idly if what he promises has come true—if his seed has already taken.
Sylus, ever keen and observing, chuckles. It’s like he knows exactly what you're thinking. Planting a gentle kiss on top of your head, his voice is low and tender.
“I wouldn’t worry too much if I were you, sweetie. I have a feeling you're already pregnant with my baby."
Your eyes widen, and you give him a shock look. 
Stammering, you say, “How do you know?” 
But, you should know this is Sylus you’re talking about. Mastermind of the N109 Zone. The leader of the most notorious organization alive. 
He’s always two steps ahead of you, seeing what you can’t see, anticipating what you can’t expect. 
Your husband’s palm drifts down to join yours on your stomach, his hand gently resting on yours.
“Call it a lucky guess… or, intuition. A few little signs here and there. Besides, I'm not letting you out of my sight until you confirm it."
His words make your head spin, and you give him a look of reproachful intrigue.
“A… few signs here and there? What are you talking about?” 
Sylus nods, his touch reverent and tender. 
Without caring for your astonishment, he lays down his observations like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
“Your scent has been different, sweeter, a little intoxicating. Your body is more sensitive, more responsive to my touch. And there's a glow about you, a soft flush on your cheeks, a sparkle in your eyes. It's subtle, but I notice when it comes to you, doll.” 
You gape at him, and without thinking, tighten your grip on your belly.
As if he has a sensor on you, Sylus immediately notices the subconscious gesture.
“Mhm... You've been doing that a lot lately, doll. Touching your belly, caressing your stomach, as if you're already feeling the baby growing inside you. It's adorable, but it's also a bit of a giveaway.”
His tone turns teasing and you flush, flustered beyond measure.
“Wh-what are you? Some kind of werewolf?” You hiss, “How're you so attentive?!”
Your husband chuckles again, amusing himself by brushing a strand of hair away from your face, his fingers gently tracing your jawline.
“It's not a matter of being a werewolf. It's just a matter of paying attention to the woman I love.” His grin turns soft, becoming tender at the edges. “I notice everything about you, doll. Every little detail, every change in your body, every little thing. I can't help it. I can't stop watching you. And you just happen to have a few tell-tale signs right now that are screaming 'pregnant'.”
Pouting, you glare at him churlishly, deciding to challenge him. But, underneath the pomp and bravado is an innate curiosity to see how far your husband’s perception can go.  
“Tell me more then, since I myself don't seem to notice anything.”  
Sylus grins at the sarcasm dripping from your tone, and decides to indulge you. 
“Hmm, you really want to know? Well, here's another one... Your taste has changed, darling. A little sweeter, a little richer. Something I can't seem to get enough of, but it also seems to have gotten stronger lately.” 
You blanch, warmth flushing your cheeks.
“You mean... whenever you eat me out... you noticed my taste? That's...” 
Your speechlessness amuses him, and he chuckles, voice growing deeper, laced with hunger and heat.
“I notice everything about you, remember? Even the smallest changes in your body,” he drawls, glancing at the spot between your thighs. “Especially when it comes to the places I spend the most time on, tasting and exploring... Every. Single. Time.”
He punctuates his words with soft kisses to your neck, flustering you even more.
All you can mutter is a cute, little, “Hmph,” scowling and fanning your cheeks. 
Sylus adores your reaction to his words, and leans in, his lips brushing against your neck, teasing your skin.
“Mhm... why are you scowling at me? Are you embarrassed? Are you... thinking about all the times I've tasted and explored you, doll? I can practically see the memories playing in your head… it's delicious.”
You squeak, slapping a palm to his mouth, feeling like your face is hot enough to explode.
“Sylus!” 
He laughs, though the sound is muffled against your palm. His hand drifts down to your belly again, the gleam in his eyes possessive this time. 
The white-haired devil pries your hand from his mouth, kissing your wrist and placing it back down onto the bed. “Oh, doll. You're just too cute when you're flustered. And it's even cuter when you try to shut me up. It just makes me want to tease you more, Y/N.” 
Emboldened and somewhat foolish, you plaster on your faux confidence, egging him on. 
“Oh, yeah? Well, I think you’re dead wrong.” 
Sylus snorts, finding your foolish certainty endearing. 
“Are you doubting my observation skills? Are you saying I haven't noticed a thing? That I'm not paying attention to the little changes in your body… that I haven't noticed how you're reacting?”
You smirk, nodding. 
“Mhm hmm. I know my body better than you, Sy. You may be my husband, but I’ve been living in this meat suit for years. And I’ll know when I’m pregnant. Besides—” you giggle, enjoying the look of faint amusement spreading across his features. “—I bet you a hundred dollars that if I take a test right now, it’ll come back negative.” 
Sylus cocks a brow, eyes glistening with the challenge. 
You continue, oblivious to his smirk. “My period is due in a week, and I don’t have morning sickness, nor do I have any cravings. Besides, weren’t you the one who said we have to plan our family smarter? Why do you want to be right so badly?” 
Your husband chuckles, enjoying your bold confidence. His grip on your hip tightens, and he kneads the flesh, shrugging. 
“You’re so endlessly fascinating, doll. Yes, I do think we should space out conception times, but I never did say I wouldn't want more babies. Especially when they are living proof of our commitment and love for each other.”
Oh. You swallow hard. When he puts it that way…
But, you’re much too thick headed to give in. 
You cup his cheek, gaze softening, though the spark of a challenge remains in your eyes. 
“Fine. We’ll see who’s right tomorrow.” 
Sylus grabs your hand, enjoying the warmth of your skin with a touch of feral amusement in his crimson eyes. “And if I’m right? What is my reward, doll?” 
Grinning, you tease, “A hundred dollars.”
Your husband tilts his head to the side, as if considering your strange wager.
“... make that a hundred kisses and a dinner, doll. I don’t want your money.” 
Scoffing, you roll your eyes. A hundred kisses and a dinner—that’s easy for you. 
“Fine. We’ll see that I’m right tomorrow, then.” 
Night fades and the next day dawns.
You wake up to an empty bed, sheets rumpled and still warm. Your eyes land upon an innocuous pregnancy kit on the side table, fresh from the store.
Sylus is nowhere to be seen, though you suspect he’s downstairs in the kitchen sipping on a cup of coffee. Not wanting to look like you were chickening out of this bet, you huff and go straight into the bathroom, putting the test to use.
You’re going to win this bet, and Sylus will have to eat his words. There is no way your husband would be correct. All he has is a hunch while you know your body inside and out. 
No singular person in the world, not even the one you share a bed with every night, can claim to predict something as mercurial and unpredictable as a pregnancy which hasn’t happened yet—unless they were a prophet or someone from the world of Dune, you think with a scoff.
The timer goes off and you grasp the test, about to smirk and prance downstairs to show Sylus how far off his observation was, when you come to a hard pause.
“...”
You blink, checking the test and rechecking it again. You look at it closer to the light, scrutinizing the stupid white stick from front to back, wondering if it’s faulty or broken.
A languid knock on the door interrupts your thoughts, and you look up to find your husband leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed and an infuriating smirk on his face.
“Go ahead, doll,” he gloats, noticing your reaction, the pallor of shock written all over your face. “Read the result out loud to me.” 
You swallow hard, setting the test down in defeat.
“Impossible.”
But, knowing how competitive your husband can be, he’s not going down without a fight.
“And the result is…?” 
Tossing him a scowl, you throw your hands up in the air, caving in so he can pipe down and just kiss you already. 
“Positive,” you groan, wrapping your arms around him. Sylus responds without a shred of hesitation, grasping your smaller body and holding it tightly to his, secretly elated at this reveal. The ghost of his chuckle brushes your neck.
“Yeah, doll? Say it again. Tell me I’m right.” 
You exhale a watery giggle, tears filling your eyes. The feeling of pure love fills your chest, and you look at him like he’s hung the moon up in your sky.
You’re going to be a mommy again; Sylus has made his promise come true. 
Touching your forehead to his, you breathe in his comforting scent, feeling the softness of his sleeping robe underneath your palms on his chest.
“You’re right, darling. You’re always right,” you whisper, the love you feel for your husband overflowing from your eyes. “It’s positive.” 
Nothing ever escapes Sylus' hawk-like attention, and for that, you love him a little more than you did before.
sydawn lore: we have twins together—a baby girl and a baby boy named sabrina and protus. initially, the scans and tests only picked up sabrina and it was literally on the surgical table when the doctors made a discovery that there was another whole ass baby inside of me (they called it a shadow pregnancy when one twin completely overshadows another) so long story short, we have two babies together with a third on the way :,) ok thx for reading bye !
— reblogs and feedback are seriously appreciated !! thank you all for your support <3
© lalunanymph. do not copy elements of my selfship and reproduce it into your own bodies of work. do not translate and share across on other platforms.
2K notes · View notes
natsukishinomiyaswife · 4 months ago
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Lovesick
This is a love letter to all of my wonderful friends, who I appreciate so so much!! ♡ These are short scenarios featuring their favorite characters being sappy and in love with the Reader ♡ Enjoy! ♡
Characters included: Leona, Ruggie, Jack, Jamil, Rook, Vil, Idia, Lilia
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Leona Kingscholar
☆ For @midnightmah07, @meltedbluecaterpillar, @nicoliharu, @crystallizsch ☆
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The botanical gardens was home to many plants, interesting and unique. Some were breathtaking, some were bizarre, drawing people in with their appearance and scent.
Napping in the gardens Leona has seen many, none of them getting his attention. Flowers, bushes, trees. None of them could compare to you, to your smile, to your eyes.
He cracks an eye open when he hears you enter, familiar with the sound of your footsteps. He'll go back to sleep later, after he admires the scenery for a bit. You always were his favorite sight ♡
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Ruggie Bucchi
☆ For @midnightmah07, @nicoliharu ☆
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Ruggie's a thief, and he'll take whatever he can get from you.
Your attention, your laughter, your smile. He wants it all, and all for himself. So he'll tease you, taking something small while you're unaware. It guarantees he can see you again, talking and laughing as he teases you once more.
It's only fair, after all. You already stole his heart. So let him steal yours too, alright? ♡
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Jack Howl
☆ For @skriblee-ksk ☆
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Comfort, safety, piece of mind. His feelings for you feel too much at times, wishing to take care of you however he can.
To protect you, and that smile he adores. He doesn't even notice at first how you do the same for him, looking out for him and caring for his safety.
He's supposed to protect you, yet here you are, protecting him in turn. He can't help but smile at the thought, knowing you had each other's backs. You can rely on him, just like he can rely on you. His amazing partner, his one and only. The only love for him ♡
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Jamil Viper
☆ For @crystallizsch, @midnightmah07, @cheerleaderman, @0honeybones0 ☆
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You don't need an excuse to dance, no party or music needed. Dancing comes naturally to you and Jamil, the motions, the laughter. The looks, the mutual smiles.
Your dance was cautious and slow at first, Jamil keeping his distance. Over time the dance changed, each of you moving closer, your hands joining together.
Your dance isn't perfect, filled with bumps and missteps. Yet, it was perfect for you, moving alongside Jamil with a laugh. He hopes this dance will never end ♡
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Rook Hunt
☆ For @offorestsongs ☆
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There were many beautiful things in the world, many that he's seen. None of them can compare to you, to the beauty that you have, to the love that you've shown him.
Watching from afar isn't enough, and photographs can only capture so much. Your personality, your heart, that voice that rings in his ears and drifts him to sleep. The eyes he dreams of, the smile he longs to wake up to.
He'll write you as many letters as it takes, as many poems, as many songs. Until you feel just as beautiful as he sees you, until you know just how loved and adored you are ♡
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Vil Schoenheit
☆ For @offorestsongs, @ladyzsgolla ☆
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We all have bad days, days that don't seem to go right and leave us feeling down. Vil understands, he experiences them too. Days he's unhappy with his appearance, with his acting, with the work that he's done. Feeling like it's not enough.
He gives you a space to relax, a space to breathe, alone in the comfort of his room. He takes the time to remove your makeup (if you wear it), drying your tears as he soothes you with his words.
He touches you gently, as if you were fragile, precious. Running his hand's through your hair, giving you something more comfortable to wear. He gets you to bed, holding you close in his arms.
You've done the same for him in the past, helping him remove his makeup, taking down his hair. The comfort you would provide him after a frustrating day meant so much to him, just like the hold you had on his heart. It's the least he could do, wanting you to know just how much he loves you. Just how much he cares ♡
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Idia Shroud
☆ For @cheerleaderman (and myself lol ♡) ☆
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Late night messages, gaming sessions, voice calls that last for hours. You were different than he expected, having similar interests and hobbies. He wasn't sure when the shift happened, when your friendship became so much more.
He doesn't want to call it love (he can't, there's no way), but he can't ignore what he feels either. The smile he gets when there's a new message from you, how his heart races when you remember a show he likes or a reference he made.
When did he start ordering merch from a game he doesn't play, knowing you would like it? When did he start buying snacks you like, hoping you'd stop by?
He won't say he's in love (he can't), but he might be... falling for you (even if it scares him to think about) ♡
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Lilia Vanrouge
☆ For @ladyzsgolla ☆
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The years pass by, yet Lilia remains, watching as people come and go. The days were too short, the months not long enough, Silver growing before him.
He watches his sons, teenagers now, making friends and considering their futures. It makes him think of his future, of the time he has left, how short the years seemed to be.
Then he met you, with your playful words and teasing banter. The surprise in your eyes as he appears in front of you, how your face lights up as you laugh at his mischief.
He feels younger, like a boy with a crush, his heart racing as he watches you fondly. How long has it been since he felt this way? He couldn't recall, moving the thought to the back of his mind.
For now, he wants to enjoy every moment he can with you. For however long time will allow ♡
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𝓣𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓴 𝔂𝓸𝓾! ♡
1K notes · View notes
milfgyuu · 6 months ago
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Hot Wheels [M] Pairing: Kim Mingyu x Fem!Reader Tags: 15.9k, 90's AU, Co-Workers to Lovers, Fluff, Humor, Smut 18+ Collab: Now That's 90's Summary: There has been something brewing between you and your part-time co-worker (full-time hottie), Kim Mingyu. Endlessly flirting on the clock at Wheelies, making out in the back of the movie theater, rolling around in the sand with a mighty good man...no other 90's dreamboat could ever compare. Warnings: SMUT 18+, MINORS DNI!! mxf (consensual) sex, fingering, low-key breast play, making out (in public), hickey talk, Mingyu is hung (obvs), he's also portrayed as 'taller' than the mc in interactions, mild to moderate language use, gyu's roomies are sloshed at the end (unrelated to smut or main characters), that should cover all the bases...
Fridays at the roller rink are always busy but this is the first official skate-night of Summer Time ‘99 and it’s like opening day all over again. The schools let out just a few hours ago, releasing hoards of teenagers with pent-up energy loose on your small town and there is a line out the door waiting to get into Wheelies to jump-start their next few months of freedom.
Thankfully, the owners prepared and bought a whole new stock of skates so when you inevitably have to help out at the rental counter you’ll have enough to go around without having to argue with some sixteen-year-old about not having their size.
For now, you’re on the floor making sure everything is running smoothly, gliding around in circles with your hands in your pockets. It’s not too packed just yet even though you can see the steady stream of kids filtering through the doors after hitting the ticket booth. Mothers are packing up their little ones knowing it’s time to head out before it picks up pace and the exchange in skaters coming on and off the floor keeps things pretty even for a short while. 
As you pass by the DJ booth for the hundredth time this evening, Vernon pauses to make a goofy face at you while he sets up his equipment. He’s probably the one person who enjoys the summer nights the most because he gets to put on light shows and mix tracks to his heart’s content. 
After letting the floor empty a bit more, you come to a stop in front of him for a quick break, crossing your arms and resting them over the top of his carpeted booth. 
“You gonna play something special for me tonight, Nonnie?”
He rolls his eyes but grins all the same. “You ask me that every night.”
Laying your head on your arms, you look up at him with a pout, “And yet, no romantic song dedications to your favorite Wheelies girl,” you pick your head up and bat your eyes at him, “I’m starting to think you want to break up with me.”
“I promise if I want to end our made-up relationship, I’ll tell you like a real man. Besides,” Vernon laughs and tilts his chin up, looking at something behind you, “I think you’ve been seeing other people. Hotter Wheels if you catch my drift.”
“Heh, I think he hates that name,” you turn, catching sight of Mingyu ducking into the locker rooms to change out and stow his bag, most likely coming straight from hockey practice. Vernon is back to messing with things when you turn, humming, “Lets be real. I only like boys who don’t like me, Nonnie, that’s why you’re the one.”
“What if he’s like you and only goes for girls who don’t want him?”
At that you laugh, preparing to depart as the floor begins to steadily fill again. “Well then, he’ll be lonely forever because I am pretty sure everyone wants him.”
“Including you?”
Very stealthily, you flip him the bird.
Vernon just laughs it off and gets back to work as you skate away, toying with the whistle tied around your neck. You can tell he’s about to get started with his new set when the lights dim and the carpeted walls and floors outside of the polished skate floor start to glow. The little whirls and shapes coming to life with a neon purple hue.
You catch the line piling up at the rental booth but thankfully, it looks like they called in a few extra hands tonight to help there and in concessions which means you get to stay on the floor. Rentals isn’t the worst, that would be birthday party hosting, but you also hate concessions so you don’t put up a fuss when you’re asked to help with skates or in the front on the rare occasion one of the sweet old ladies manning the ticket windows is out.
As more people start piling onto the floor you slow your pace and skate backward for a few feet to check out your surroundings and find teenagers everywhere, loud and wildly unaware of their surroundings. They aren’t too awful this early in the night but you’re sure you’ll have to escort someone off the floor before closing time.
You’ll enjoy your leisurely pace for now and it seems Wonwoo is keen to do the same on the opposite side of the crowd. He weaves in and out of skaters bobbing his head to the music. His glasses are sitting lower on his nose than usual and you’re sure he’s broken them again…or his little brother did and he’s waiting for their exact replacement to come in so he can switch them out without his brother noticing and feeling any more guilty. 
He’s only eight but Wonwoo is his very best friend. They come in on Saturdays together, one of Wonwoo’s only days off, and he teaches his brother to skate for an hour or so before he lets him loose in the arcade and they leave with matching ice cream cones in hand. They even have matching shaggy hairstyles. It’s adorable.
In truth, you’re fond of many of your co-workers but Wonwoo is definitely in your top three for that reason alone. You get along really well with any easy-going personality, it's the same with Vernon. They are both just nice, quiet guys and the exact opposite of the giant shadow hanging over your left shoulder. 
Although, you suppose you get along just fine with him as well.
“Quit checking Wonwoo out, you’re breaking my heart.”
Even before he opened his mouth, the distinct cologne he always wore told you Mingyu was finally on the floor, ready to chase you around for the rest of the night like it was his full-time job. He spent more time trying to charm your pants off than doing what he was actually hired to do but he is so damn charming that he somehow gets away with it.
Besides, this is just a part-time gig for him. Might as well enjoy himself while he’s at it.
When you don’t answer right away, he decides to show off his stupidly impressive hockey maneuvers and he swings around in front of you, casually skating backward without bothering to look behind him. He’s big enough that people can’t miss him and they tend to move out of his path pretty quickly. Now that he sees your face, he’s smirking because you don’t even have it in you to hide your smile tonight. “Oh, that’s pretty,” he coos, “My heart’s healing already.”
You grab his arm to pull his hand away from his chest and he spins around to skate at your side, eyes briefly scanning the floor until they’re back on you. 
“I wasn’t checking him out but believe me… you’re going to be absolutely devastated when Vernon finally admits he’s in love with me. Game over, buddy.”
Mingyu looks wholly unconvinced. “Well, he’s had long enough and you’re going to fall in love with me by the end of the week so…” he pinches his lips together like he’s just delivered the real, honest, awkward truth and you’re battling butterflies in your stomach. 
“End of the week, huh? Are we sure?”
He gets distracted by an increase in volume but for only a moment because Wonwoo is already on it and the quick, sharp sound of his whistle means Mingyu’s full attention is on you again. “That’s what I have circled on my calendar,” he shrugs, “Nothing we can do about it now but let it happen.”
Mingyu’s sense of humor and playful nature are the literal nails in your coffin. You can handle hot with no personality…this one is hot with an overabundance of personality.
You look up at him, probably grinning ear to ear, “Bet you have little hearts doodled all over it with a hot pink gel pen, don’t ya, Hot Wheels?”
He grumbles something under his breath and it makes you snicker. Wonwoo started that one and it seemed to spread throughout the building like wildfire. Now, even the ticket ladies call him Hot Wheels though you’re sure they mean it quite literally whereas Wonwoo was actually just busting Mingyu’s balls about a particularly embarrassing tumble he took.
“Purple gel pen, actually,” he turns and pouts as you both bank around the curve again, “Lost my pink one.”
“Could always steal another one from your little sister.”
At that, he scoffs, the corner of his lips pulled up into a half-smile, “She threw a Barbie car at my head the last time I visited,” he doesn’t even sound upset…it’s more proud than anything, “She reminds me of you sometimes.”
When you go to respond, a young boy accidentally skates too close to you and his wheels knock into yours throwing you both off balance. You catch him by the arm, meeting his panic-stricken eyes, and wait to hit the floor but you rock back against a hard chest and thank all your lucky stars Mingyu was there to save you. The older you get, the harder the floor feels. 
“I’m so sorry!” The boy exclaims once you’re all steady again, “I’m not good at this! I promise I wasn’t trying to take you out!”
His genuine concern is sweet and you laugh it off. “It’s totally okay and nobody got hurt,” you tell him and he takes a deep breath, “Wanna go around together a few times?”
The boy’s eyes shine and he nods his head rapidly. Mingyu drops back a few paces and you hold out your arm, elbow tucked into your side. “Okay,” you pat your forearm, “Hold on here…there you go…and we’re going to push off at the same time with the same foot. Hey, Gyu,” you call over your shoulder and he comes back up to your side, waiting for your instructions, “Will you skate a little ahead of us so he can watch you?”
“For sure,” Mingyu grins, picking up speed until he’s far enough away to slow his pace again and remain ahead of you.
The kid is a bit wobbly but he’s trying really hard and it makes you smile. You remember when you first learned to skate and how intimidating the rink was though you were around eight and he looks to be around fourteen. There wasn’t a floor full of bigger, faster kids to compete with though so you think maybe you got off easier.
“You’re doing great,” you encourage him, “Watch him go around the curve to get a better idea of how to steer yourself.”
Mingyu banks it beautifully, as usual. It’s surprising to most people that someone his size could skate so fluidly especially after learning that he only started playing hockey in his early teens. It was just something he had a natural talent for and trading out blades for wheels hadn’t altered his ability to move with grace whatsoever.
You work through the turn together, a little less smoothly, but you make it around and he lets out a short laugh. “He makes it look so easy.”
“Yeah, well he’s had lots and lots of practice and likes to show off.”
Your eyes settle on Mingyu again and as if he can sense you watching, he turns over his shoulder and winks which is not solely witnessed by you because the kid chuckles, following through the next curve with more confidence. “Is he your boyfriend? He’s kinda cool.”
The question catches you off guard and you laugh, covering your mouth with your free hand. “Not my boyfriend but yeah…I guess he’s kinda cool.”
He looks up at you…almost mischievously you’d think, if you knew him better. “I think he wants to be your boyfriend,” he snickers, “He keeps looking at you.”
You huff out a laugh, placing your hand over his before swinging you both into a stop out of the way. “I’m starting to think this is all a ruse and he’s paying you to put in a good word.”
The kid laughs and shakes his head, “No, I’m just nosey and a really lousy skater,” he says, looking up at Mingyu who’s come over and stopped next to you, “Thanks a lot for helping me out,” he looks a little sheepish, hand reaching around to scratch the back of his neck, “There is this girl at school I like and she’s a figure skater. She asked me out on a date at the ice rink when she comes back from vacation with her family in two weeks and I said yes even though I’m probably going to make a fool of myself. Figured I should start practicing now and falling on wheels is less intimidating than falling with knives on my feet.”
You laugh softly and Mingyu grins, shaking his head. “I admire your dedication to getting the girl, kid. Listen, I coach a youth hockey league at the ice rink down the road and have a free hour a few days a week that I use to practice myself. I’d be happy to teach you if you want.”
The boy’s eyes light up. “That would be so cool!”
Mingyu chuckles, “Alright, awesome. Are one of your parents here with you? I can go talk to them and give them my information.”
“Yeah! My grandma is sitting over there,” he points to the corner where you both make out an older woman sitting alone with a book in hand, surrounded by way too many boisterous young people. 
You meet Mingyu’s eyes and both make a face. “Yikes, okay, let’s go save grandma.”
The boy thanks you again and starts to merge back into the flow of skaters as Mingyu smiles at you, pushing off with a ‘Don’t miss me too much’ and a stupid kissy face. 
His grin is wild and gorgeous when you wiggle your fingers and whisper, “Bye, lover boy.”
Vernon is smiling at you when you reach his booth and you hop up onto the small ledge that allows a good look at the floor as a whole while also giving your legs a needed break. He’s playing one is his 80’s to 90’s pop mixes and tweaking the rotating lights that dance over the skaters until they start changing colors, neon polka dots as far as the eye can see. 
There is a steady exchange of kids coming on and off the floor. Most of the early group heading into the arcade or bombarding the concessions counter while the later crowd takes their place. In between all that, you catch sight of Mingyu speaking with the boy and his Grandma. You don’t even realize that you’re unabashedly smiling at the scene, thinking about how kind and attentive he is when he’s listening. The way he leans in and pulls back, grinning and laughing. 
“Still think you’re not into him?” Vernon says over your shoulder, laughing when you startle.
You purse your lips, eyes wandering back over. “I’m simply admiring his social aptitude,” you flick your eyes back up to Vernon and grin, “Why? Is it making you jealous darling?”
He smirks, “Not yet. Gonna have to try harder.”
“Ugh,” you swoon, hand over your heart, “I love it when you play hard to get.”
Vernon nods his head laughing, “Yeahhhh, I know you do.” Then he notices you’ve got your eye on an issue that needs handling and reaches out to pat the top of your head, “Two more hours and they all have to go home to be someone else’s responsibility. I’ll throw in some of your favorite jams.”
Ten o’clock couldn’t come soon enough but you appreciate his offer and toss out a few songs for consideration though he’s pretty familiar with your tastes. You step back down onto the floor and blow Vernon a kiss when you immediate recognzie the song he’s jumped into…just for you.
 “You really are the best. Check on you in a bit, undercover lover.”
He throws up a peace sign and you cut across the floor to ask a couple of kids who were just blowing and popping bubbles to go spit out their gum as it’s clearly stated that it's not allowed on the floor. They don’t love your request and start to argue but Mingyu sneaks up behind you again and dazzles them with a smile. Just like that, the two young girls start giggling and falling all over themselves to do exactly as asked…all because the pretty guy said ‘Please’. 
It’s comical, honestly. 
Mingyu is smirking when he rolls along beside you, bending at the waist to peek up at your face because it’s aimed at the floor as you try to school your features. He’s so irritatingly flirtatious and you’re too quickly playing into his hand tonight. You’re usually better than this, holding out well until you’re pulling out of the parking lot. 
“Oh, yeah,” he intones, “Tonight is definitely the night. You’re giving in. You can’t resist me any longer. It was bound to happen. You’re still smiling! I can see it!”
Laughing, you pull your head up and give him a look that you would have loved to be firm but it’s not in the slightest. How can you be serious when he is so not serious? “Don’t you dare,” you warn with a loose laugh tacked on at the end, “I told you, we’re not going on a date.”
Mingyu shrugs, “So, movies tomorrow night?”
“Don’t you work tomorrow?”
He bats his eyes with a saccharine smile, “I love that you know my schedule by heart,” he ignores your eye roll, “Wonu’s covering my shift since he owed me one and also because he’s a true romantic. He’s rooting for us and we can’t disappoint him.”
“Well, I suppose if it’s what Wonwoo wants…” you look up at him, eyes glittering with excitement, “When are you picking me up?”
For as calm and cool as Mingyu keeps it on the outside, he’s buzzing on the inside because he’s been toying around with the idea of taking you out forever. And he’s asked…more than once…but you’ve kept him on his toes and he’s enjoyed the playing the game but he’s elated that you’re finally saying yes.
He tries to school is face but he’s still beaming as he tries to casually say, “I’ll pick you up at seven.”
“Seven?” you snicker, “Isn’t that a little late to get started? You keeping me out all night?”
He just shrugs, grinning. “Maybe.”
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Mingyu shows up nearly twenty minutes early and you can see his car outside your condo. He doesn’t make a move to get out and it’s amusing to watch as he nervously drums his fingers on the steering wheel for a few beats before reaching for the door like he’s going to get out, and then shaking his head before resuming the fidgeting. It’s also a relief to know he’s feeling the same jitters you are. 
The thought crossed your mind to pop your head out to wave him inside but he might be giving himself a pep-talk and you’re still contemplating your outfit. 
The movie theater is always so cold. You debated the pros and cons of wearing something short-sleeved because on one hand, if you’re cold it might prompt your date to keep you warm but on the other hand, if he didn’t, you’d be freezing the whole time. 
You could bring a jacket, but that’s an extra thing to carry. 
Digging through your closet, you pull out a fuzzy black long-sleeved sweater. You hold it out, admiring the way it’s cropped a little shorter in the front, and then turn back to the mirror, holding it up to your chest. It would look cute with the Levi’s you’re wearing…decisions, decisions.
A car horn beeps and you peer out of your window seeing Mingyu rigid behind the wheel. You laugh, thinking he probably did not mean to do it and is embarrassed at having accidentally made too much noise. That’s pretty obvious by the way he’s looking around, paranoid and frustrated. It’s actually super cute and you’re lingering by the window now just admiring him from afar without care
Until you see Mingyu cut the engine and get out of the car. Then the panic sets in because you’re still not ready and well…it’s the first time he’s seeing you outside of work and not in uniform. You want him to be wowed and are probably still taking too long to get moving considering how brisk of a stride you know his to be. He’ll be here any second.
You scramble to pull on the sweater in your hands and run into the bathroom to grab your gold hoops, fix your hair, and check your makeup one last time. Your heart is racing but you smile at your reflection. He sees you all the time at work looking not even half as done-up as you are right now and thinks you’re a solid 10, so there isn’t really any doubt he’ll be pleased. Then the doorbell rings. 
A few deep breaths to calm your nerves comes first. When you open the door, Mingyu’s mouth is fixed like he had a line locked and loaded but when he sees you, he chokes on the words. He’s so flustered that he stumbles back a step, laughing at himself. “Oh, you’re not going to take it easy on me, are you?”
That lights you up from the inside out and brings your confidence back around full circle.
“Have I ever made things easy for you?” you snicker, grabbing your purse off the hook by the door, “I think you like a challenge.”
“Nah, I just like you,” he smirks, tongue poking the end of his pointed canine as he watches you close and lock the door, trying his hardest to be respectful, “You look really good. Have I said that yet?”
Stashing your keys in your purse, you turn and grin up at him. “You alluded to it but I wouldn’t mind hearing you say it out loud.”
Always playing and teasing and flirting. It’s almost too much for you both to bear at this point. 
“I’ll tell you as many times as you want,” he says softly but he reaches toward you, slipping his hand just behind your hip to pull you closer with a bold, sharp tug. Startled, you bump right into Mingyu’s chest and look up at him with wide eyes. He doesn’t say anything for a minute and then tilts his head back, sighing into the sky above. He’s mostly amused when he looks back at you.
“You look incredible…and we should get in the car before I ruin the illusion of me being a gentleman.”
“That image has been splintering for a while but I don’t think I’ll mind if a manner or two slips,” you tease as you pull apart, taking the time to look him up and down…
Light-washed jeans, crisp white t-shirt, open flannel hanging off his broad shoulders…”You look really good too,” you murmur in appreciation.
He’s about to sweating straight through his shirt if you keep looking at him like that.
“...yep…time to go,” he mumbles, pinching is lips together as he grabs your hand. He pulls you toward the parking lot which isn’t far, and opens the door for you to slip into his passenger seat. He doesn’t let go until you’re settled and takes it a touch further when he reaches in and grabs the seatbelt before you. His hand purposely grazes against the exposed skin between your pants and top as he buckles you in and you let out the breath you were holding the second he closes your door.
It’s getting more difficult to play hard-to-get by the millisecond but you’re willing to give in first if your reward is Mingyu breaking down bit by bit right in front of you. 
You bite your lip to keep from giggling when he quickly rounds the car and settles into his seat next to you. He’s still shaking his head, quietly laughing at himself for getting so easily worked up. He turns over the engine, shifting into drive, and peers over at you with an air of disbelief. 
“I’m starting to think we’re gonna have to sit in separate rows at this rate.”
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Thankfully, the tension melts into easy banter and conversation on the ride to the theater. Mingyu entertains you with stories about his family and asks after yours, specifically your beloved niece whom he loves hearing about. He lets you toy around with his radio and blare some Spice Girls song that neither of you sings along to with the correct pitch…or words. It’s a blast either way.
Bold flirtation aside, Mingyu has always been a gentleman where it counts.
When you arrive at the movie theater, he opens all the doors, holds your hand every chance he gets, pays for your tickets and snacks despite your protesting, and lets you choose where to sit. The theater isn’t very full, though the movie you both decided on has been out for a while so it’s not all that surprising to see so many open seats. There are a few people scattered here and there and you don’t particularly love sitting next to others if you can avoid it. 
That leaves the very front or the very back. 
You glance over your shoulder at Mingyu, patiently waiting for you to decide, “You really don’t care?” 
He shakes his head again with a soft smile and you sigh looking back at the open seats, “I don’t like being super close…are you okay with sitting up top?”
Mingyu’s eyes scan the very empty top rows and widen like he hadn’t actually realized how secluded they were until just now. “Totally cool,” he manages after a moment, “Lead the way.”
“Oh boy,” you whisper to yourself, turning to make your way up the stairs. You have to focus ahead and calculate the distance of each step so you don’t screw up and trip because that would be awfully embarassing. It’s dark, cold, and quiet, and there is a huge gap between the section you’re headed toward and the next closest couple sitting in the middle. 
The very last row was almost too intimidating as if it somehow was the designated spot reserved for horny, depraved teenagers, and you were mid-twenty adults…so you stopped once you hit the second to last row and cut in a few seats before deciding that sitting in the middle was also weird so you dropped into the fourth seat from the aisle and forced yourself to stay put. 
PIcking a seat and sticking with it has never been so daunting before.
Mingyu doesn’t say anything at all about your choice, much to your relief. If he cracked a joke about it, you think you might just burst at the seams. He just sits down in the seat next to you folding his very large frame into the too-tight space between the armrests. You’re both quiet as the lights dim and the previews start rolling but you can still feel him wiggling and adjusting himself next to you.
Your eyes meet when he accidentally bumps your arm and you smile at the fact that he is genuinely embarrassed, for no reason at all other than unintentionally taking up extra space. “I’m so sorry,” he whispers, “I don’t remember the seats feeling this cramped.”
“It’s really okay,” you turn, tucking his elbow safely into his side as you lift the armrest between you to give him more room, “We can share.”
“Are you sure?” his eyes seek yours again in the darkness, “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”
You quietly snicker at his worry when he was the one being so brazen with your proximity earlier. At the same time, you can appreciate his consideration and reassure him with a gentle smile. “I really don’t mind…the extra body heat is appreciated.”
You can feel the moment Mingyu lets the tension flow out of his body. His shoulders relax until your arms touch lightly, his legs spread a little further apart as he sinks into his seat, firm thigh now pressed to the outside of your own. He’s warm and his cologne, as usual, is so rich and alluring that you know you’re going to be fighting the urge to mold yourself to his side for the next hour and a half. 
Surprisingly, the movie isn’t half bad even though it was one you chose because every other film out was either super sad or overtly romantic and neither genre felt like a good fit for a first date. ‘Black Mask’ had a decent balance of action scenes and suspense that pretty easily kept your eyes on the screen, at least for a little while, sharing sour gummy worms and a soda between the two of you. 
Your attention began to wane after the third time you bumped hands with Mingyu and it was lost entirely when he decided to simply hold your hand instead. Movie plot gone in an instant.
Instead of the screen, your eyes fall to your joined hands resting in his lap. They climb up to his chest, slowly rising and falling with each measured breath. Carefully, you let them slide higher, admiring the shadows projected over his throat and jaw. Higher to admire his handsome face. Higher again, just to get a little more of him, and when you get there, you find him staring back.
Neither of you shy away this time. Mingyu nervously licks his lips and his eyes flit down to yours, only for a second, just to reassure himself that you’re both on the same wavelength even though the chemistry between you has always been pretty clear. He still hesitates before he leans closer but you’re done waiting and choose to kiss him first. 
It’s soft, brief, and when you part, you can see the smile on his handsome face and it brings the butterflies in your stomach back to life all over again. He cups your cheek and pulls you back into another kiss, and then another, and another. A million times you’d thought about kissing Mingyu and this was still far better than any you’d imagined thus far.  
Actually kissing him highlights the small details you were missing. The bits of it that are unique and a part of him only. It’s the way his thumb strokes against your cheek, how he tilts his face and changes his angle so fluidly that you follow him like it’s completely natural, the tender way he’s slow to let go of your bottom lip and how he kisses it afterward. 
It’s certainly not your first kiss or even the first time you’ve made out with someone at the movies, but this feels entirely new. Mingyu is not some hopped up, horny kid. He takes his time with you, he’s gentle, patient. It’s not sloppy or rushed. He isn’t trying to clumsily cop a feel the whole time, though, you think you’d probably let him and that he wouldn’t fumble around at all. It feels like he knows exactly what he’s doing, even if he doesn’t.
You hope that you feel natural to him too.
He pulls back with a slow hum of appreciation and that’s good enough for you.. When your eyes meet, you’re both smiling, and Mingyu takes that as his good sign. He wraps his arm around your shoulders and tucks you into his side until he feels your body relax against his and you finish the movie just like that. 
Well, you’re both looking at the screen but you’re more focused on the way he continues to kiss your hair every few minutes and he’s locked on to the feeling of your nails gently drawing a line up and down his thigh. 
Eventually, the lights come on and you’re a little slow to untangle as the rest of the theater clears out. It’s entirely empty by the time either of you hit the stairs. 
“Soooo,” Mingyu hums, trailing behind you half a step, “Thoughts…opinions…? On the movie, of course.”
You laugh without turning around and nod your head, “Right…the movie, yeah. Just as the trailer promised,” you focus on your feet moving a step at a time and not tripping, “Perfectly executed action sequences.”
He grins to himself, tucking his chin into his chest. “I’m glad it lived up to all the hype,” he balances his weight on one foot before taking the next step, “Nothing worse than all that anticipation ending in disappointment.”
You peer over your shoulder at him, smiling coyly, “Oh, no disappointment here. I’m sure i’ll be thinking about it for quite some time.”
He huffs out a laugh, “Are we talking about the movie or the kiss?”
“What kiss?” you smirk, quickly turning around to hurry down the rest of the steps but he’s right behind you the whole way.
Just as you whip around the corner and into the dim hallway that leads to the exit, Mingyu catches you around the waist and pins you up against the wall. You can feel his heart thudding under your palms, the thrill of excitement hardly contained in his chest as his lips crash into yours. 
Disappointment is so very far from your realm of feeling at the moment. Any expectation you had, which admittedly was already pretty high, was shattered and elevated yet another level each time his tongue danced across the seam of your lips or when his hands made another pass over your body.
From the beginning, you theorized that Mingyu was more than just a smooth talker. You had him pegged as a man with follow-through and you’re simply rolling in it, knowing you were right, and now you’re experiencing it for yourself which makes things that much more gratifying. 
Mingyu was a certified lover boy. Called and confirmed it.
The very best part, you think to yourself as you feel him grin against your lips, is that he’s yours…or at least, he wants to be. You don’t have to let him know he’s already won.
He’s still smiling when you slide your hands over his arms, pointedly squeezing the ample muscle there, and he finishes you off with a few final, fluttering kisses. 
When your eyes meet, there is a buzz of nervous laughter and Mingyu again asks, “So, the movie or the kiss?”
Your gaze drifts back down to his mouth and your stomach twists torturously when his knowing smirk reveals a prettily pointed canine. The same that’s bitten into your bottom lip a few times already this evening. You look back up and narrow your eyes playfully, “I don’t recall any kissi-”
He leans back down, slotting his lips against yours and the second he so much as breathes the door at the end of the hall clicks open and you hear two voices, likely the staff coming to clean the theater, and here you two delinquints are still splattered against the wall playing tonsil hockey. 
Mingyu freezes and your eyes are wide as saucers. “Go, go around the other way!”
You have to slip out from under his frame and drag him a few feet before his mind catches up and you’re both scrambling back across the theater to the exit on the opposite side. As quietly as you can, you peek out of the small window to make sure the coast is clear and pop the door open for you both to come tumbling out. 
The wide corridor outside the theater is mercifully empty but the adrenaline in your bodies’ leaves you jogging toward the side exit, laughter bubbling up and out into the open space around you. It’s all so silly and exhilarating, and when Mingyu grabs your hand, pulling you through the doors out into that warm summer air, you’re sure you can’t remember the last time you’ve felt so…alive. 
Or maybe there is just something about the moon and stars, and the way their enchanting glow seems to make everything in their wake just a little more beautiful. He’s one of those things - bright, beautiful, feathered and soft around the edges. 
You’ve stopped to catch your breath but it remains trapped in your chest the longer you look at him. It’s suddenly a little heavy, this crush of yours, weighed down by impression of his hands on your hips, your face, the small of your back. Flirting and teasing was easy. Agreeing to finally go out with him was easy. Realizing the potential for more was real and standing in front of you was a shock to your system because you’re uncovering very quickly how much you want that with him.
“We should definitely go to dairy queen.”
It takes a minute to process his words and then with a little shake, you lift your head to find Mingyu smiling back down at you. “Feels like the movie might have left you with a lot to think about and nothing helps me sort through my head quite like ice cream.”
You cock your head to the side, the tension in your chest evaporating just like that.
“Have you always this charming?”
“When I put in the extra effort, which is only for you, sure,” he chuckles, using your joined hands to pull you a little closer as you walk alongside eachother through the parking lot, “I’m not everyone’s cup of tea though.”
“I don’t believe that for a second,” you scoff, bumping into his arm with your shoulder, “Everyone loves you. I’ve seen it with my own two eyes.”
His tongue pokes into his cheek, rolling his eyes skyward, “You missed the guy I had to escort out of the rink a couple weeks ago who took a few swings at me in the parking lot. Pretty sure he was not enthralled by my dazzling smile and strapping good looks.”
“One person…that’s all you got?”
Reaching his car, Mingyu opens the passenger door for you and waits until you’re seated and looking up at him expectantly. He licks his lips and smirks, “Buckle up, you’re in for a ride.”
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After grabbing ice cream, you decided making your date drive over to the shore was favorable to sitting on the sticky red tables outside the DQ, so instead, you’re sitting side by side on a small gym towel he miraculously had in his trunk, eating your deserts and swapping stories to the tune of the gentle waves crashing ashore. 
So far, you’ve learned that the sole reason Mingyu got into hockey in the first place was because he was in constant trouble as a kid…in school, at home, or literally anywhere else he happened to be. His poor mother tried to put him in every sport and hobby she could think of to keep him busy and out of trouble but baseball wasn’t a fit, basketball ended in another fist fight and suspension, football benched a few and landed one kid in the hospital, and any form of martial arts was out of the question. 
Finally, she found an ad in the newspaper for boy’s hockey team tryouts and the rest was history. You can clearly hear the admiration in his voice when he spoke about his original coach and his teammates. How it was touch and go from the start but no matter how much hot water he found himself in, they wouldn’t quit on him. When he realized that, he started pouring all of his pent up energy into the game and it changed him in all the best ways. It’s the whole reason he coaches today…to be someone who can make a positive change in a kid’s life the way his coach did for him.
Honestly, it’s hard to imagine Mingyu as anything other than the kind, gentle, playful guy you know him to be but everyone grows and changes. He still has a wild sort of glint in his eyes at times that lead you to believe every word he’s said about his younger years. 
The sea breeze is crisp and almost a little chilly despite the warm air it mixes with so you push a little closer into Mingyu’s side and he wraps an arm around your shoulders. “Cold?”
“A bit,” you roll your head toward him, resting it against the crook of his shoulder, “Kinda just wanted to be close to you again…despite your delinquent past, I think I like you a little.”
“A little?” he smirks, eyes darting to your mouth briefly, “I think you like me a lot.”
Scrunching your nose, you make a face at him and he tosses his head back and laughs. 
“If you don’t admit it soon I’m going to have to make a huge, probably embarrassing,  for you, romantic gesture,” he counters, looking very half-serious, “A big old fashioned declaration of love…in public…loudly.”
“You’re still a little shit, aren’t you?”
“Don’t pretend you aren’t loving the reformed bad boy thing.” He’s spot on because Mingyu is the exact kind of guy you would have had a crush on back then too. 
You let out a long sigh and pick your head up, leaning to the side to bury your now-empty cup in the sand so it doesn’t blow away just like Mingyu had on his side. In the process, Mingyu slips his arm a little lower on your back, his hand curled around your hip to keep you balanced. You love every single point of contact so you fall right back into his side when you sit up again.
“To be fair, I think you’re only partly reformed,” more smirking, “Mhm, that’s exactly what I mean,” you hum in amusement, “Listen, I’ll give in…just a little…and admit that there are a lot of things I love about you..”
“I’m listening,” he purrs, ready for the boost in confidence you’re surely about to give him. Anything that could even vaguely resemble a compliment would send him over the moon coming from you. 
“I love the way…you genuinely enjoy helping people,” you start quietly, soothing the subtle nerves beginning to tingle in your fingertips, “I love that you put so much time and effort into coaching your kids and how much you love talking about them…how you’ll roll your eyes and shake your head telling me stories about them and yet you always finish with a smile because ‘they’re a handful but they’re good kids’”
Mingyu snorts softly and you knowingly ask, “There’s lots of little Mingyu’s on your team, aren’t there?”
He nods slowly, pushing the tip of his tongue against his teeth. “Ohhh yeahhh,” he breathes out with a light chuckle, “I understand now why my coach made me run drills until I dropped. I’ve got a couple that have already outshined my reputation at their age and some days it’s a battle of wills but they’ve come along way,” he ducks his head, grinning, “Hoping they’re the extent of my karma and it doesn’t come back to bite me in the ass when I have kids one day.”
He makes a face right after he says it and looks down at you almost apologetically, “Was that weird to say on a first date? I feel like that’s something you’re supposed to avoid but you’re easy to talk to and words just fall out of my mouth sometimes.”
“You don’t have to apologize,” you laugh, quirking an eyebrow at him, “I know it’s a first date but we’re not strangers, besides, I’ve always just assumed you were a family kind of guy. You talk about yours all the time, super close with your little sister, and from all i’ve witnessed, you’re just kinda great with kids in general,” you shrug, easing his worry, “I promise, it’s not a shock to me that you’d want your own and I’ll save you the torture of wondering whether to ask or not…yes, I’d like to have kids someday. Someday farrrrr away in the future.”
“Oh, good,” he chuckles, “Me too...lightyears away.”
It’s not on either of your radars currently but it’s nice to know that you have common goals for the future. It leaves a brief pause in the conversation, though not an uncomfortable one. Just a quiet moment to soak things in. 
First date, first kiss(es), and it’s all going…perfectly. 
It’s one thing to flirt and banter with a cute co-worker but taking the leap and going on a date together is a whole different game. There are very real feelings on both sides of the court and the potential for something real and permanent is so palpable you can feel it pushing you closer to one another. Leap again. Put yourself out there and trust the other will catch you.
Mingyu breaks the silence first and you feel his fingers twitch against your back. 
“I really like you,” he says steadily, like that was the easy part, “I think you’re beautiful inside and out, stop laughing i’m being serious,” he grins and you try to reel it in for his sake, “My first day on the job I was blatantly called out and laughed at by Wonwoo after he caught me spacing out and staring at you for the third time…I don’t think I even made it an hour into my shift before I was hooked.”
“Oh, I thought you were being serious?” you grin.
“Shhhh,” he counters, “I’m not done.”
“Where was I? Oh yeah…you’re a good friend and a good person, and I like having you in my life,” he says softly, picking up your hand and pulling it into his lap, “I want to bring you home to meet my family so my mom can drag out the photo albums the way she’s always joked about doing while my sister spends the whole time telling you embarrassing things about me. They would like like you a lot. The boys on my team already like you.”
“Oh?”
He laughs, “Oh yeah, they’re always in my business and I made the mistake of bringing you up at a practice once so you’re a regular topic of discussion. I should have known I was doomed from then on and they’re brutal sometimes. One kid called me a loser because he’s fourteen and has a girlfriend and I don’t.”
“Is that how you’re asking me out? Trying to get the sympathy vote because you’re getting picked on by a bunch of kids?” you smirk.
“Maybe…is it working?” he asks, gaze dipping to your mouth for the millionth time tonight.
“I don’t know yet,” you inch a little closer, “Maybe you should try softening me up a little more before you ask again.”
He pauses, hovering just a breadth away from your face and his open mouth pulls into a sly grin, “By any means necessary?”
“Do what you have to do I suppos-”
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“Niiccceee hickey.”
You slap a hand over the mark you swore you’d covered well enough with concealor, apparently not, and whip your head in Vernon’s direction. “Can you not announce it loud enough for everyone to hear?”
Vernon glances side to side. “There is literally no one except us in here and that thing announced itself.”
“What thing?” 
Wonwoo comes in and drops his bag on the wooden bench, pulling out his uniform top to shrug over his shoulders. His glasses sit askew on his face and you really hope he’s got good insurance because they’re always in awful shape. 
You turn and press your forehead against the cool metal of your locker door and Vernon chuckles, stowing his things noisely. “The physical evidence to prove that her date went abundantly well.”
Wonwoo smirks, walking closer to pry your hand away from your neck. He whistles. “Damn, Mingyu’s a biter…not surprised. Good luck hiding that thing - it’s going to be with you for a while.”
“Ok. Hickey expert. Thanks for your input,” you grumble.
He shrugs. “We all have interests and hobbies, and you’re welcome.”
You roll your eyes and turn around, leaning back against your locker with a pout. “I’m kinda nervous that we’re working together tonight for the first time since we went out. Do you think it will be weird?” 
Vernon makes a goofy face. “Why would it be weird? I thought you said everything went well and you’re like, dating now? Did something happen?”
“No, everything was great,” you slump down a little further, “Like…too great. I’m trying not to jinx things or be weird. Are we too old to call each other boyfriend and girlfriend? Is that a thing for adults? Or did we grow out of that after high school?”
Wonwoo rolls his eyes, fixing the notch on his belt, “No, we’re not too old for that. He’s your boyfriend. You’re his girlfriend. Simple.”
“Is it?” you reply with a unintentional snap that doesn’t phase either of them.
Vernon sits on the bench in front of you and stretches his back out, groaning like an old man. “Yes, simple. You like him and he likes you, and you have fun together. I fail to see the problem.”
“Yeah, that’s like, the opposite of a problem,” Wonwoo agrees, “Besides…being left alone in the rink after hours sounds mighty convenient if you ask me.”
Snapping your jaw shut, your eyes widen, “What exactly are you suggesting?”
Wonwoo smirks, “I’m not suggesting anything but an opportunist would use their imagination.”
Both you and Vernon peg Wonwoo with a suspicious stare.
“With all due respect,” you say slowly, your eyebrow steadily raising with each word, “I didn’t think you rolled like that.”
“Neither did I,” Vernon adds, equally intrigued.
“You’re kind of a freak, aren’t you?”
“Who’s a freak?”
All three of you startle and whirl around to see Mingyu coming through the door. His hair is wet, likely freshly showered after hockey practice, and he’s looking at each of you with a clueless grin. 
“Nothing and no one!” you reply with a grin, already floating toward the hunk in the doorway, “Hi.”
“Hi,” he grins down at you, “I see you and I got stuck closing tonight.” 
You swallow down the knot in your throat and hold up a middle finger behind your back directed at Vernon and Wonwoo’s snickering. 
“Yep,” you bounce on your toes, “Just you and I…closing everything down…together…tonight.”
Mingyu’s lips pinch together to hold in a laugh. You were always so bold and confident when it came to teasing him and now, he can tell you’re having to make a great effort to hold it all together. “I’m sure we’ll find a way to make it fun,” he chooses, satisfied when your eyes widen just a touch, “I think Jim’s looking for you by the way. If you’re done getting-” 
“Yes,” you squeeze his arms and then move past him at lightening speed, rushing out the door. 
Mingyu just stands there and laughs quietly before looking up to see the grin on Vernon and Wonwoo’s faces. “Alright, how much did she tell you?”
“Didn’t have to tell us much at all.”
Wonwoo shakes his head. “The bite marks you left told us everything we needed to know.”
Mingyu’s eyes drop to the floor as he awkwardly scratches the back of his neck. He’s glad the ones you left on him are covered by his collar because he just barely got away with blaming it on equipment mishandling when one of the older boys in his youth league pointed one out with a mischievous laugh.
Vernon claps a hand over his shoulder on his way out the door causing Mingyu to look back up again. “Happy for you, dude. She’s a good one.”
Mingyu smiles softly, “Thanks, man.”
When he leaves, Mingyu pushes further into the room and starts getting himself situated, glancing over at Wonwoo every now and then like he’s waiting for him to say something.
“I can feel you staring,” Wonwoo mumbles, eyes now glued to his Game Boy Pocket as he tries to save his progress from earlier.
Mingyu shrugs his shoulders up to his ears, pushing his bag into his locker. 
Wonwoo puts his game down and looks up. “Whaddaya want, Hot Wheels?”
He pauses, making a face at the nickname, and then carefully asks, “On a scale of one to ten, how bad of an idea is it for me to-”
“Make a move tonight?”
Mingyu’s mouth pops open. “Oh,” he blinks, “You read minds too?”
Wonwoo sighs and leans back a touch, both hands gripping the edge of the bench beneath him. “To be fair, that’s exactly what I’d be thinking about if I were in your position. Empty building…gorgeous girlfriend…”
Mingyu scoffs, “Alright, easy…”
He gets a smirk in return and Wonwoo stands, stretching his long limbs. “I’m not wrong and also not interested in your girl so relax,” he leans down and tugs on the laces of his skates and then straightens out, “You both think too much. Just be normal. Do the same lovey dovey, flirty shit you always do and see how the night goes.”
“You’re kind of good at this,” Mingyu compliments, his lips pulling into a half-smirk, “What do you get up to when you’re off the clock and not playing big brother of the year?”
Nearing the door, Wonwoo just turns over his shoulder and tosses Mingyu a wink.
He’s handed out enough advice for one night.
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You were still jittery when Mingyu joined you out on the floor but falling into the same routine was pretty simple, just like Vernon and Wonwoo said, and it took loads of anxious tension off your shoulders. If anything, Mingyu was more playful with his teasing and a little more bold with his physical affection when others weren’t paying attention. 
It was like a game of how flustered he could make you without getting in trouble for fooling around on the job. The floor was crowded which simply meant he got to stay a little closer to you without looking suspicious which allowed him to find out how fun it was to pull you around by the belt loops of your pants. 
He loved the little noise of surprise you let out every time he snuck up behind you, hooking his finger through the loop to tug you back against his chest where he pretended to tell you something important. Like he was just trying to talk to you over the sound of the music when he had nothing but more teasing to whisper in your ear. 
The hours flew by unnoticed and before long, you were bidding your last goodbyes to the rest of the staff having finished their own cleaning and closing duties. 
Mingyu went into the office to toy with the audio system after you asked to throw something on just so it wasn’t silent in the big dark building while you followed Vernon and Wonwoo to the doors to lock up after them. 
Vernon shifts his bag on his shoulder and cuts a sideways glance in your direction. “You gonna be okay?”
You shrug, touched and confused he’d asked. “Yeah, I’ve closed up a million times. All good.”
Wonwoo pats the top of your head like a puppy. They both have a habit of that.
“He meant, are you gonna be okay here alone with Mingyu? Are you comfortable with us leaving - not that I think he’d ever do something to hurt or upset you…I’d kill him and he knows it…but you give us the word and we’ll stay.”
“Oh,” you blink and wave your hands dismissively, “No, we’re good! I was just worried about being a loser earlier but we’re totally fine!”
“We thought so,” Vernon grins, pushing the glass door open, “Just checking.”
It’s sweet and embarrassing that they’d thought to ask and you tell them as much as you gently push Vernon through the doorway. “Thought for a minute you were finally ready to confess,” you joke, fake pout on your lips and all, “I’ll drop him like a hot potato if you ask, Nonnie.”
Wonwoo follows him out and laughs, “You’re full of shit but I’m sure he appreciates the sentiment. By the way, if you find yourself in need…Jihoon keeps condoms in his locker.”
You slap a hand over your mouth, covering your shocked laughter. “First of all, mind your business and second, what the hell?!”
Vernon shrugs, “Man likes to be prepared I guess!”
….Line cooks are one of a kind. Truly.
You’re shaking your head as they wave goodbye and walk off toward Wonwoo’s car as it must have been his turn to carpool. Pulling the doors shut, you carefully lock each one and double check them before turning on your heel and then the music cuts on over the speakers. It’s not crazy loud but enough to keep the odd sounds that accompany a big old building from rattling in your ears. 
Mingyu pops his head out of the office when you round the corner and you cock your head in question, “Beastie Boys?”
“Couldn’t get the discs to work so radio it is,” he shrugs, “I can find something else if you want.”
You shake your head, brushing past his shoulder into the small office to sit down and reconcile the financials for the night. “I’m not picky. Did you already grab the bags from the registers?”
He nods, “Yep, everything’s there and Jim left the keys for the safe in the desk,” Mingyu squeezes your shoulders when you sit down and you smile up at him. “I’m going to knock out the kitchen and rental walk-throughs while you count if that’s okay? After that we will just have shut down the arcade and I can take out the left over trash bags.”
“That would be amazing,” you tell him, head still cushioned against the office chair as you smile lazily up at him, “I just love a man that knows how to take charge and get the job done.”
He immediately chokes out a laugh and turns on his heel muttering something about how ‘he’s not going to get anything done if you keep that up’ as he walks away.
It takes another full minute to bring the task at hand back into focus and you have to consciously fight off the intrusive inappropriate thoughts clouding your brain when it’s supposed to be crunching numbers. You even have to recount a few bags because the image of Mingyu sitting you on the desk you’re working at to do dirty things with you keeps popping into your head and it’s getting harder and harder to focus. After probably twice the amount of time it usually takes you to do the financials, you’re finally done and locking the safe when Mingyu returns. 
“Oh, hey,” you perk up when you notice him in the doorway, “Ready to go do the arcade?”
“Already done,” he snickers, “I came back after walk-throughs and caught you cursing and restarting your counts so I just went ahead and finished up the list.”
“Oh!” you shift on your feet, “...guess we’re all done then.”
Mingyu crosses his arms, leaning against the door frame looking extra swoon-worthy. Not a single poster of your favorite 80s and 90s heartthrobs plastered to the walls of your old bedroom held a candle to the picture in front of you and he knows it. 
“You sound disappointed. I’m sure we could find other things to do if you wanna stay a little longer,” his eyes shift over to the audio system, still playing a mix of alternative and pop hits, and fixes his eyes back on you, “Ever considered making out with someone in an empty skating rink with No Doubt playing over the speakers?”
“Can’t say I have. What about you?”
Mingyu grins, shifting his weight to tower over you, “Thought just now crossed my mind.”
He slides one hand beneath your jaw and the other over your hip, slotting his lips against yours as he walks you back until you bump into the desk behind you. After teasing you with your belt loops all night, you decide to return the favor, licking at the seam of his lips as you hook your fingers in his front loops and pull him closer. He laughs against your lips and pulls back to meet your eyes. “That’s my move.”
“I liked it, so I think I’ll steal it,” you smirk, tugging at the loops still.
“We should probably get our things and head out before I do something stupid and incredibly irresponsible,” he chuckles though there is a very real edge to his tone like he’s trying hard to behave himself right now.
“What kind of stupid and irresponsible things?” you test him, releasing his belt loops to hook your index finger into the waist band of his pants instead, “I might be interested.”
The hand on your hip squeezes and he bites out a laugh. “Who’s the delinquent now?”
“Still you, but I recounted those bags because I kept getting interrupted by steamy office fantasies popping into my head so if you’d rather take me home before we make questionable decisions, we should probably leave now.”
He groans, torn between having to wait or giving in and having you right here, right now. The cons would be that it’s A.) your work place, B.) it’s not the cleanest place to hook up, and C.) he has to wait when his body is begging him otherwise.
As luck has it, you decide for him.
“Can we go to your place? My roommate is home tonight and she’s got hard rules against hooking up when the other is home. She doesn’t even really like when I have friends over but her name is on the lease so I don’t argue much.”
Mingyu shuts off his internal debate processing, grateful to have you choose for the both of you. “My roommates work the late shift at the bar on 89th so they will probably come home at some point but they don’t care about guests…or girlfriends. We respect that rule in regards to privacy.”
“Ugh,” you rolls your eyes, relaxing in his hold, “That must be so nice. Got an extra room at your place?”
“Got plenty of space for you in mine,” he smirks, “Alright let me grab our bags from the locker room and we’ll get out of here. Did you drive?”
You shake your head, moving to turn off the audio system, “No, I took the bus today.”
“Sweet, we’ll take my car home and won’t have to worry about leaving yours.”
It’s funny how you’re both being so casual at the moment as if you weren’t pinned up against the desk, debating whether you should desecrate the business office, and now you’re both going about your normal routines as if you didn’t just agree that you’re leaving to go directly to his place to hook up for the first time. 
It catches up with you when Mingyu pulls up to the front of his shared beach house and cuts the engine. You look at the light blue house and catch the subtle sounds of the ocean not far off. “I had no idea you lived on the island,” you share as you get out of the car and walk together toward the door. 
Mingyu hands you the key and takes your bag so you can open the door. “Yeah, we’ve been here about a year now. Used to share a condo a little further in but we spend a lot of time at the beaches here so when this place opened up we snagged it as quick as we could.”
Pushing inside, it’s exactly what you imagine a triad of bachelors to live in. Everything is clean but the couch is a futon, there are two cd towers filled with music you’d love to check out, a few bean bag chairs, a stereo system big enough to take up half a wall, and theres a couple of empty corona bottles spread on the low table in the living room next to a few gaming controllers. 
Mingyu groans when he sees them and glances over apologetically. “I definitely asked them to clean those up when I left this morning. You’d think a couple of bartenders would know how to recycle empty beer bottles. I swear we have manners.”
You laugh and follow him to what you assume is his bedroom down the hall. He opens the door and drops both bags next to his dresser before flicking on a lamp. “Wasn’t expecting to bring you back here so I am glad my cleaning habits are something of use,” he pulls open a drawer and grabs a random t-shirt before handing it to you, “Here, you can wear this if you want and I’ll show you where the bathroom is…I just uhhh..I thought maybe you’d be more comfortable changing out of your uniform.”
You raise a brow at him, “What? My Dickies and pinstrip ref polo aren’t sexy enough for you?”
He smirks back, “Anything you wear is sexy enough for me but the sex and dating column in Cosmopolitan’s spring magazine says a woman’s comfort comes before all else and is the key to a healthy, thriving relationship.”
“You read Cosmo?” 
He shrugs, “Had to pick my mom and sister up at the hair salon and got there on time which was apparently thirty minutes early. There was nothing else to do.”
“Learn anything else?” you ask just before he leaves you at the bathroom door.
Mingyu tugs the frosty bleached tips of his hair. “Learned six new ways to accesorize with butterfly clips and that my horoscope for last month was only half correct,” he grins, “Let me know if you need anything, babe, i’m gonna use the other bathroom to clean up.”
You mumble back an OK and shut the door, bumping into the counter. “Babe?” you repeat quietly, looking at yourself in the mirror. 
The reality of you having a super-hot-hockey-player boyfriend who is also insanely sweet and volunteers his free time to coach a youth league, and is an amazing kisser, and the kind of guy that calls you babe, crashes into you completely and you’re scrambling to clean yourself up, change, steal some mouthwash, and give yourself a full pep talk before you emerge god knows how long later. 
Following the same path back to Mingyu’s room, you pause at the door and take a deep breath before re-entering his space. 
He’s laying in his bed tossing a small blue ball up and down with one hand while he waits. You’re pleased to see that he decided not to put a shirt on, lounging only in a pair of basketball shorts, because you also decided to ditch half your clothing. The opposite half.
The ball lands in his palm with an audible smack and he looks up when you step into his room, closing the door behind you. 
“Wait right there,” he throws out a hand as you take a step closer and you hesitate, “I just want to burn this image into my memory for all of eternity.” 
Rolling your eyes with a soft laugh, you walk the rest of the way over to Mingyu who reaches for your hand and pulls you up onto his bed to straddle his lap comfortably. His hands move up and down your thighs and he’s smiling at you all the while. “You’re so beautiful,” he sighs and then shakes his head when you try to brush him off. “Genuinely. I’m not just saying that to get in your pants. You’re not even wearing pants to get into.”
He’s amusing and captivating when he’s like this, hands exploring every inch of exposed skin, chest pressed against yours, his face turned up as he looks at you with that white-hot gaze. It further drives your need to touch and feel him so you wrap your arms around his shoulders loosely, letting your fingers dance over the muscle in his back. 
Mingyu’s eyes flutter closed, only for a moment as your nails trail over his spine, and you smile to yourself, overjoyed with the feeling of his body beneath yours.  
“This feels a little surreal,” you speak quietly and he hums in response, setting his eyes back on your face, “I mean…”
“Ahhhhhh,” he grins, lacing his fingers together where his hands rest on your lower back, kept warm under your shirt, “Because you’ve been dreaming about me every night since we met?”
“Something like that,” you sigh and Mingyu shuts up, not expecting you to give in so easily. You pinch the hair at the nape of his neck tugging it nervously, “You should probably kiss me before I say something even more embarrassing.”
Mingyu chuckles and his eyes dip to your mouth. He captures your lips easily, moving his hands against the planes of your back as he kisses you until your mind clouds over. 
His hair is soft between your fingers, the silly frosted ends tickling your skin when you give a little experimental tug. Wonwoo teased him endlessly for falling for the fad but you had to admit you liked it on him. 
You’d probably like anything on him though. Besides, it wasn’t long before Wonwoo broke down and tried it too albeit a bit more subtle and less Backstreet Boys. 
Mingyu braces his forearm behind your hips and tugs. His skin is hot and he keeps you still against him, not like you plan on shifting away, but the need to be touched, held…anchored to him is met without needing to ask. It feeds into your confidence allowing you to move more freely, rolling your hips, arching your back until your chest is pushing into his and he just can’t stand the fabric in the middle. 
The shirt he’d given you doesn’t even fully hit the ground before his arms are wrapped around your body again and he buries his face in the crook of your neck, lips trailing over your throat, shoulders, collar bones. Whatever he can reach without letting go. 
A sharp gasp hits the air when his tongue dips to the base of your throat and he closes his lips over that same spot with a kiss. Thighs trembling, you hope he doesn’t comment on the pathetic way your cunt squeezes around nothing. He says nothing though. Instead, he groans deep in his chest and his hands tighten possesively. 
Then he does it again, and again. He encourages your real, raw reactions, full intending to pull them from you until you let go of whatever mental block is keeping you from letting him know exactly how much you love the way he makes you feel. 
Pretty soon he succeeds and you’re no longer trying to hold yourself together, holding your breath, or trying to be quiet. 
Mingyu drags his teeth along your collarbones and grins at the soft hum you let out, so at odds with the way your body jumps at the sharp sensation. 
“You like that, huh?”
It take an extra few seconds to process his words, brain near mush from his attention.
“So you do like it,” Mingyu laughs, pecking a small kiss to your shoulder, “What else do you like?”
You’ve only just now formed a response to his first question and now he’s asking another and he’s smirking. It’s almost like he’s doing it on purpose…
Your mouth pops open to say something, what that might have been, you’ll never know because at the same time, Mingyu leans back a little and drags your hips over his, grinding his erection against your sensitive cunt. “You like that?”
At this point, you give up on words and just nod your head fervently. Yes, I fucking like that.
His hands ghost up your sides until his thumbs are brushing against your breasts. He pauses, testing the water before diving in, and he catches the hitch in your breath. The way your head drops back just a touch like all this is making you a little dizzy. He leans forward and presses a kiss against your sternum before falling back against the pillows to take in the full picture. 
You, perched in his lap with your back arched, pushing your aching breasts into his hands to play with. It’s the exact shit he’s fallen victim to in a wet dream but this is real and far better because here you are, in the flesh, gripping onto his wrists and rocking your hips against him for an inkling of relief from how much he’s turned you on.
It’s wearing his patience down and is going to bite him in the ass if he doesn’t move things along. He prematurely finished one time and it still haunted him at night. Never again.
Hopefully.
Mingyu makes a miraculous maneuver, with you landing on your back at his side, somehow, without twisting or pinning someone’s limb in the process. 
“That was very smooth.”
You’re staring back up at him in wonder, partly because you’re not used to being tossed around like that, but also because he’s looking down at you with a serious, heated expression and it’s making your heart beat a little too fast.
“Can I touch you?” he askes softly and you’re immediately nodding. “Yeah?” he mimics the motion in a daze, eyes glued to your mouth, “Come here.”
Easy. You kiss him, well, it’s pretty equal efforts but you get to him first, too impatient to wait even half a second more. His hand moves over your hip slowly, then shifts to brush against your naval where he rests it for a moment, heat from his skin seeping into yours. 
He’s planning on making good on his request, though you beat him to it again. 
Mingyu parts his lips with a sigh when he feels your hand slide over his. Your fingers curl around his palm and you guide his hand lower. He asked to touch you and then made you wait - whether it be on purpose or just his own nerves - you’ll help him help you.
He doesn’t seem to mind and rewards you instantly with his thick fingers rubbing against your cunt through your panties. Your mouth falls open with a soft moan and his brows knit together right as the sound hits his ears. His gaze is unwavering and you almost wish he would just kiss you again instead of studying your face this closely…then his middle finger presses down a little harder and the sound you let out that time makes the corner of his mouth turn up into a half-smirk. 
It doesn’t even slip away when he leans down and kisses you, his smirk still obviously tugging at his lips when they touch yours. His hand pushes inside your underwear and he groans into your mouth when he feels how wet and warm you are but he doesn’t have time to waste or savor the feeling because he needs you to cum on his fingers at least once before he fucks you and his will to wait it out is all but gone. 
You’re responsive to every stroke, gasping and whimpering, digging your nails into his arm. Your back arches up off the bed every time he pumps his fingers faster, rubbing them up against your g-spot with expert ease because, hell yeah he reads cosmo, he’s too fucking good at it to not have been guided by the devine-feminine mind. 
Mingyu’s mouth envelopes one of your nipples and his tongue rolls against it at almost the same pace and pattern he’s rubbing your own slick into your clit and that’s enough to send you over the edge. He tries to be patient, to let you come down before he goes reaching for a condom but he catches the time on his digital alarm clock, the numbers glaring at him in bright red. 
It was already past midnight meaning having the house to himself is ending relatively soon. 
You don’t need the extra recovery time though, in fact, it’s the opposite. What you need is more and you need it now. “Mingyu…” he hums in response and you will your mouth to work again, “Do you even play basketball?”
He huffs out a laugh and shakes his head. Poking your tongue in your cheek you nod and point to his shorts, “...Off.”
Mingyu grins as he leans down and kisses you before rolling out of bed and your lips turn up into a smile, a breathless laugh floating up into the air. He drops his shorts and steps out in white Calvin Kleins stretched taut over his golden thighs, showing off every inch of his assets, and you have to prop yourself up on your elbows to even get the full picture.
Move over Marky Mark. 
You’re too busy staring at Mingyu’s body to notice him taking the opportunity to appreciate yours. It’s just a brief moment to sate both your curiosities because though neither of you would prefer to admit it, you’ve thought about each other naked and probably more than once. Getting handsy on your date gave you a bit of an idea but the overwhelmingly obvious dick print staring you in the face at the moment confirms your indecent theory about what Mingyu might be packing…
And that has got to be the ‘Pony’ Ginuwine was singing about.
When your eyes meet somewhere in the middle, you both turn away quickly, embarrassed only slightly for getting caught. It was a good feeling to know that the attraction is mutual. You hear a drawer close softly and feel the dip in the bed when he slides under the covers next to you. Rolling over, you land almost nose to nose and Mingyu grins, “I like it when you check me out.”
You answer him with a kiss that starts out innocently enough but it’s such a dizzying sensation to be so wrapped up in him that whatever witty retort you had been thinking of is lost in the way his fingers squeeze into your side. He sighs against your lips when he drags you closer and your thigh settles high on his hip, wrapping your body around him tightly. Without thought or hesitation, he drives his pelvis forward, rubbing his erection into your sensitive cunt. 
It makes you break for air, drawing too much of it into your lungs just to sharply moan through the exhale when he doesn’t stop. The muscles in his arms are so taut beneath your fingers that you know he’s not doing it to tease you - he’s at his breaking point and really just can’t help himself.
One hand slides down and pushes against the waistband of his briefs, rolling the material down as best you can until it catches his attention so his can finish the job himself. He groans, mostly to acknowledge your intentions, but also because he’s slowly trying to reel himself back for a moment. Just long enough to peel the last bits of clothing off you both and get a rubber on. It’s probably one of the most ridiculously inconvenient things he’s been made to do in a long time.
Neither of you say a word as he rips open the foil, trying to keep his hands still enough to roll the condom on correctly. It feels like static in his veins, trying to sit still when everything inside his body is screaming go, go, go! You can feel it too, the buzz of anticipation, the pulse between your thighs. 
Then, there is a pause after he rolls back over, covering your bare body with his own, and he just looks at you for a moment, mouth tight. Your hands slide over his arms, up his shoulders, and settle on his face. “Everything ok?”
“Just wanna do this right,” he whispers back, turning his face to kiss the palm of your hand. 
The corners of your lips lift in a small smile. “Feels pretty right to me, if that helps.”
The tension in his shoulders melts away and he relaxes his pinched brows. “It does help,” he says, one big hand stroking the outside of your thigh around his waist, “Just…talk to me if there is anything you want or don’t like.”
“I will,” you reassure him and he eyes you wearily one more time until you sigh, “I promise.”
That seems to be enough for him as he shifts between your legs and you let your hands fold over his shoulders, trying hopelessly to relax your body when you feel his fingers on you again. He doesn’t keep them there long, just enough to make sure you’re still wet before he’s gripping his cock, guiding himself into your heat. 
The pressure is immense and Mingyu feels you tense up beneath him. He pulls his other arm up and shifts his weight over to one side, grabbing your face with his free hand. “Breathe,” he says quietly, tipping your face up to look at him, “Just breathe, baby.”
Easier said than done but you exhale shakily and his thumb brushes against your cheek. Mingyu draws his hips back slightly and pushes further in, eyes falling to your mouth when it pops open. The feeling of fullness is all encompassing and all you can think about. So full you might burst at the seams but again, you will yourself to relax and he finally, finally bottoms out.
You let out a sharp breath and just can’t seem to catch it. 
Mingyu seems unsure of whether he should move or not and he barely gets the question out before you’re nodding. The first few thrusts are still tender and he’s still mindful of that but after a minute or so, the tides turn and you’re digging your heels into his backside, pulling him deeper. 
Mentally, emotionally, physically deeper. 
He’s a romantic through and through, including in times like this where he’s drunk on pussy and pure infatuation. He can’t get enough. The way you feel around him, clinging to his body, hands against his chest, eyes glued to his. He’s in severely dangerous territory and clamps his lips shut until the words sitting there fizzle out. Patience is what he needs. In his mind and in his heart.
His body is on an entirely different page. 
Mingyu is smooth and consistent in his movements, like water in and around you. His name spills from your lips reverently, whispered into the air between you and it feeds him, pushes him to fufill your needs in a way you knew deep down he would. He’s a pleaser in every way. 
So, when you slow him down with your palms firmly planted against his chest, he stops and listens. His attentiveness almost makes it harder to speak.
“Can I uh…like would you mind if I…laid on my stomach?” you ask unevenly, not really sure why you’re hesitating to share what you want when that is what he’s asked of you.
Mingyu looks like he’s died and gone to heaven. He doesn’t even answer. Carefully, he pulls out and moves so he can roll you over, prop your hips up, and fill you right back up. This time there is no slow start. His hand settles on your back, just between your shoulder blades, and he holds you there, pinning you in place in such a way that your eyes close on contact. Perfectly content to stay put.
The room is filled with lewd noises. Skin slapping against skin. Deep grunting and moaning sounds mixed together. Your muffled voice chanting his name over and over again. Mingyu’s quiet praises tickling your ears when your head turns fuzzy. 
It’s a good thing no one is home because it’s almost embarrassing how loudly passionate you both are. You regret not asking Mingyu to turn on the radio to drown out the noise but it’s too late now and with another tug upwards on your hips, he’s stroking your walls just right and you hit an entirely new set of notes. 
Mingyu can feel you squeezing around him, mewling into his pillows and he’s hanging on for dear life because you’re still skirting around the edge and he’s seconds from toppling over. An idea pops into his head, a catch twenty-two really because in doing this, he puts himself at further risk of finishing first but it’s still too enticing to pass up. 
Somehow, he manages to roll your bodies together until he hits the mattress, successfully claiming his spot as your big spoon. He hooks his left arm under your head so that it’s rested on his bicep while his hand is free to roam your chest and his right arm snakes over your hip before you feel his middle and ring finger slip between your folds. 
With you tightly wound up in his hold he picks up a brutal, finishing pace. He hits all the right spots and works your body until you’re seeing stars. Your breathing now harsh and uneven limits your ability to speak but you don’t need to say anything at all. 
Mingyu knows your coming and he’s going right along with you. When your orgasm hits, you bear down against him, crying out in broken sounds as he pumps his hips through his own release. He continues to hold you against his chest, gently kneading at the fleshy part of your hip. 
He presses kisses against your hair and then carefully, he pulls out before rolling you onto your back. Mingyu’s smile is adoring and beautiful, it makes you want to bury your face in the pillows again. The blanket will have to do. 
“Why are you hiding?” Mingyu chuckles, grabbing at the blanket, “Was it that bad?”
You flip the sheet down and give him a blank stare. 
“Shut up,” you bite, a hint of a smile appearing, “You know it was good. Better than good.”
“How good?” he smirks. 
With an eye roll, you pull the blanket up just high enough to cover the lower half of your face. “Really fucking good…and you’re not even slightly winded.”
He’s on top of the world. 
“My stamina is just another one of my many desirable qualities,” he half-shrugs, “If you’re still not in love with me, I’m happy to keep trying.”
“Will you stop when I do?”
“Not a chance,” he grins, one hand squeezing your thigh as he swoops in to steal another kiss, “Stay with me tonight. I’ll make you anything you want for breakfast”
You pretend to think about it when you know you’ll say yes, and not just because you don’t have a car. A sleepover? With your hot boyfriend? Who just rocked your world and will probably do it again and then cook for you in the morning? Yeah, that’s a no-brainer.
“I could probably be convinced if you find me something comfy to wear and have a spare pack of noodles…I’m starving.”
Mingyu jumps out of bed, the sight of his bare cheeks making you turn and giggle. “I’m about to make you the best noodles of your life,” he walks over to his dresser pulling out underwear for himself, a clean t-shirt, and blue-plaid pajama pants, then he tugs open another drawer and turns to you, holding out a big soft-looking jacket, “I think you’ll like this one. I don’t have any pants that will fit you but this is pretty long. Oooh,” he pauses, “I didn’t think about underwear when I-”
“Ruined mine?” you raise your brow teasingly, sitting up and making grabby hands for the sweater he tosses to you.
He scoffs, tip of his tongue poking at his teeth. “Yeah, that’s my bad.”
Your voice is muffled as you pull the sweater over your head before climbing out of bed, pleased that it indeed covers you well. “It’s okay. It’s not the first time and I’m sure it won’t be the last. I’ve learned to keep an extra pair in my bag.” You mention this so casually that he’s stunned when you walk over to grab said panties from your bag and kiss his cheek before turning to leave, “I’m gonna go clean up. Meet you in the kitchen for those mind blowing noodles?”
Mingyu hollers back as you near the bathroom door. “I’ll blow your mind in the kitchen alright!”
He slumps against the dresser when he hears you respond with, “I’m sure you will, babe!”
Babe. Ugh, you’re so it for him. 
The steam of the shower mixed with some kind of masculine aroma in Mingyu’s body wash gives off the same feeling of being in his arms and the thought warms your belly again. It’s almost embarrassing, how much you want him just after having him in full, but you’re sure he’d be happy to oblige even if you so much as hinted at it. 
Maybe he will blow your mind in the kitchen.
As you’re wrapping up and getting dressed you hear music, oddly loud for the hour but it’s vaguely familiar, still muffled by the sound of the vents running to air out the steam in the bathroom. Then there’s a crash, not earth shattering but enough that you’re slightly concerned. You hurry to hang your towel and pull on your clean underwear and his sweater when you hear another bump against the wall. Then…singing?
“Kiss meeee out of the bearded bobby~”
“NIGHTLYYYY beside the greanbeann grass~”
You poke your head into the hallway, “Um…Mingyu?”
“SWIIINGG SWIINNG-”
“Swing the spinnnning stem~”
Definitely not Mingyu. Also, definitely not the right words to this song but your interest is piqued.
You come around the corner to find him in the center of the living room, quietly laughing, holding the hand of one of his very jovial (probably drunk) maybe roommates while the other (definitely drunk) maybe roommate is spinning around them in circles, bumping into things along the way. 
The one with bright blonde hair pokes Mingyu mid-spin, “You wear the shoes and I’ll wear a dressss~”
Then the his drinking partner joins in and their both belting out, “oOHHH Kiss meeee, beneath the melting twilight~”
Mingyu points to the blonde and shouts over the noise, “That one’s Hoshi.”
 “Lead meeee, out on the moonlit flooOr!”
He gestures at the one hanging off his arm, the tall boy with shaggy black hair, “This one’s Minghao. They’re plastered, obviously.”
They’re delightful and Hoshi is coming your way with a cat-like smile. He bows, almost stumbles, and reaches for your hand which you’re happy to share. “Lift your open hand…” he serenades, lifting yours into the air, “Strike up the band and make firefights dance silver moons sparkly~”
And he spins you away so quickly you almost stumble but Mingyu catches you around the waist with Minghao singing over your shoulder in a whisper, “So, kiss me.”
And Mingyu does, of course, he’s not going to miss the opportunity. Minghao grins, leaning against the wall to catch his balance, and Hoshi claps…a little bit like a buffoon but you really like them both. Mingyu must really love them because he doesn’t complain one bit about the noise and overly dramatic show, especially with it being your first impression. It helps that he knows how laid back you are and can see the delight still dancing in your eyes. 
He does however, turn down the music on the stereo so everyone can talk without shouting. 
“You do know you guys are supposed to be serving the alcohol…not drinking it…right?”
“Don’t be r- *hiccup* -rude!” Hoshi flaps his hand dismissively, “I’ll tell your pretty girlfriend about all the times we had to hold your hair back, our sweet little Mingoo ~”
Minghao giggles, bumping into Hoshi’s shoulder, “Or about how you,” he pauses, the two of them bursting into hysterics as Mingyu sighs like he knows what’s coming. Minghao wipes away a tear, still cackling, “About how you got totally tanked that weekend you first started working at Wheelie’s and whined alllll nighttttt-”
Hoshi whacks Mingyu’s shoulder laughing and then looks at you, “He wouldn’t shut up about you the entire night. Crying into his beer…because he thought you were dating the DJ.”
Your hand flies over your mouth, giggling up at your boyfriend who is being a really good sport right now. Even as he pokes his tongue into his cheek, shaking his head at his friends. 
“Vernon and I were never dating,” you fake sniffle, “Sadly.”
“Sadly?!” Mingyu swings his head around toward you, “I thought the soulmate thing was a joke?” he laughs.
“Oh, baby, it is a joke,” you reassure him, patting his chest gently but just when he relaxes you whisper, “Until it isn’t.”
Hoshi sticks out his hand as he’s stumbling toward the kitchen and you land a low-five as he goes, and one up top when Minghao follows behind him excitedly mumbling about making drinks for everyone, then Hoshi is shouting about noodles ‘for the love of god, we need more noodles!’
Mingyu sighs and you know he’s about to complain that he no longer has you to himself. Can practically hear it in your head already. So, you cut him off before he can start, tugging him down into a kiss hot enough to make him groan against your lips as his hands dip down to take handfuls of you. 
Then he’s laughing, falling out of rythym and you pull back, smiling. “What?”
You squawk in surprise when he smacks your ass and says, “You know you’re still not wearing pants, right?”
Actually, you forgot because of the whole song and dance thing. 
“That’s embarrassing,” you mumble, tugging his sweater further down your thighs, “I could go throw my work pants-”
“I can try to find you som-”
You both look toward the kitchen when music starts playing and Mingyu shakes his head, almost regretting stowing his portable radio in there for when he’s cooking. It’s quiet for a few seconds and then, like someone cranked the volume all the way up, it’s starts blasting and they’re both singing.
“Ooooh baby, baybay, b-baby, baybaby, oooh baby-”
Mingyu just laughs. “On second thought, don’t even worry about it. They aren’t going to remember anything tomorrow morning anyway.”
“I like them,” you grin.
His shoulder shake with mirth, “Of course you do.”
You giggle when one of the guys starts shouting the words and grab Mingyu’s hand, pulling him along behind you. “Come on, noodles, drinks, Salt-n-Pepa,” he fake groans and you squeeze his hand, “This is the most fun I’ve had at a sleepover in years.”
Then he’s grinning, “Well, we can make it a regular thing if you want.”
You turn, just before you get to the kitchen and push up to kiss his cheek, “Whatever you say, Hot Wheels.”
“Oh, come on,” he drags his feet after you, “Can we pick a new nickname?!”
“Sure. Come on, Coach Kim. Let’s go play in the kitchen.”
He stumbles a step and shakes his head. “Am I supposed to pretend it doesn’t make me kind of horny when you call me that? God, please don’t hold that against me. I am only a man.”
Oh? Good to know. “Whatever you say, Coach.”
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Thanks for reading! 💖
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snoopyearss · 5 months ago
Text
Husband/Family-Man!Nanami
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A/n: Gege confirmed Nanami wanting to get married and starting a family so here some head canons of Nanami and his family. I’m so emotional about him right now he’s actually the love of my life
CW: Fluff! Tooth rotting sweetness idk
Husband/Family-Man!Nanami who calls off work at any minor inconvenience when it comes to his family. His daughter fell off the slide and got a minor scratch? He leaves work to make sure she’s okay. You catch a cold? He calls off work to take care of you. Dance recital? Work is an afterthought. Soccer game? What is work?
Husband/Family-Man!Nanami who secretly gets excited to come home to a full house. As soon as he unlocks the door, he sees his little girl running to greet him and give him a big hug and a sloppy wet kiss. “Daddy!” She squeals, pigtails bouncing up and down as she runs to latch onto him. He squats down to match her height and opens his large arms to engulf her in a warm embrace. Whatever happened at work that day didn’t matter anymore. The stress of the day was melted away because of a miniature girl version of him.
Husband/Family-Man!Nanami who loves family outings. Saturday mornings would be the time you three would run errands. Getting new clothes for your daughter, new furniture or decor for the house, or groceries for the week to come. Nanami would push the shopping cart while he watches you hold your daughter in your arms showing her all the different clothing options. Saturday afternoons would also be for doing more fun things too. The three of you would go to the aquarium together. It was your daughter’s favorite place. Nanami would hold her in his arms and help her name all the fish. You would take pictures of the both of them and send it to him later.
Husband/Family-Man!Nanami who secretly loves the attention he gets from other people when they see him with his family. He loves the adoring stares he gets when others watch how you three operate as a family. “Is that your daughter?” One elderly lady said to him as him and your daughter took a day trip to the library. “Yes. She is. Honey, can you say hello?” He gently takes her arm to wave at the lady. “Hello dear! She’s adorable! What a sweet child. You’re doing a wonderful job with her. Not many kids like to read these days.” She chuckles and walks off. Little did she know, it make Nanami’s heart swell.
Husband/Family-Man!Nanami who drives you all back home after a road trip. With nothing but the road lights to illuminate yours and your daughter’s faces. He looks in the rear view mirror to see his little girl sound asleep in her fastened car seat, clutching onto the plushie he bought for her a few days before she was born. He smiles at the drool slowly escaping her mouth. Nanami then turns to you in the passenger side, with your head resting against the door and hair scattered across your face. His eyes trail down to your left hand with the ring twinkling at every street light that passes. At a stop light, he gently brushed strands of hair away from your face. “I love you,” he whispers. “Thank you for giving me what I’ve always wanted.”
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