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minhosimthings · 3 months

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Dances Avec Les Etoiles ft. Heeseung

Synopsis: God how boring is love? For Lee Heeseung, it was perhaps the most boring thing in this rotten world. But for his parents, it meant buisness. And buisness meant getting Heeseung married off to a princess from another kingdom. And when the princess shares a peculiar interest, Heeseung starts to believe in Cupid again.

Pairings: Prince!Heeseung × Princess!fem!reader

Warnings: Brief smut scene in the beginning (not with reader), SMUT MINORS DNI (with reader), fingering, edging, orgasm control, french kissing hehe, dom!Heeseung × kinda dom!reader, mentions of food, sexual tension, hee is kind of a pervert, suggestive at places, fluff, swearing, angst, did I mention sexual tension, enemies to lovers (kind of), arranged marriage, playboi heeseung × playgirl!reader, reader wants adventure and Heeseung is the adventure

A/N: I have been writing and editing this for so long now and it's only part 1! Thank you for being patient with me and I promise to release the second part which has more smut in it very soon! @candewlsy your daddy papi has arrived

Part 1 || Part 2 || The wedding

The French Quotes Series Masterlist

Lee Heeseung was a man of logic.

Which left no room for the poetry in him, although he did say that he enjoyed it a lot.

He was a prince, a ruler soon to ascend the golden throne of Tarnow. Stupid name, he had always thought, it sounded like a wheelbarrow carrying a bunch of tar pieces.

But he had often heard that the poets never allowed someone to go on with their life just like that. What kind of poets would they be if they did that?

And so he had to be betrothed. With a star studded ring on his finger, an imitation of a smile on his face, and a bride by his arm. And a ceremony where there would be flowers, and dancing.

Dancing!

Heeseung had a clandestine love for dancing. The curve of arms and fingers, the movement of hips, the ballet of the feet twirling to create an invisible picture on the ground. And yet, no one knew of this rendezvous of his. Well, almost no one.

"Hyung are you really sure you're alright?" Heeseung's daydream was interrupted by a honey sweet voice from above him. "Get down from the tree, idiot." Another voice, strong as iron reprimanded him.

Sim Jake and Park Jay.

Two of Heeseung's band of best friends.

They had grown up together, due to their parents being close friends, what with the never ending borders they shared between the kingdoms. And he could always count on them to give him advice, whether it be of a bastard's or of a sage's.

"Unless you want to break your arm again, get down from that dumb tree." Jay scolded the brown haired boy, who was, at the moment, hanging upside down from a willow tree, "But you need another reason to visit your best friend don't you loverboy?" Jay added with a cheeky smile.

"As if you have more love in your life" Jake shot back, promptly jumping down from the branches onto the grass with a soft thump.

"Would you two stop bickering and help me out of my current predicament?" Heeseung snapped, letting out a sigh and leaning against the bark of the willow. He had always liked this particular tree. He remembered his mother's hands carefully handling the roots and planting the tiny sapling into the wet mud, talking about how the Duchess' daughter had ran off with some ragamuffin. It was a majestic tree now, like how the poets described the trees of the Gods to be like. He had liked that poem a lot, the one about trees and princesses and first kisses under first snows.

"You're going to get married to a completely random princess, big deal." Jay rolled his eyes, settling comfortably onto the freshly mowed grass. He was often the more mature one out of all of them.

"Where on earth are Sunghoon and Sunoo?" Heeseung questioned, checking his pocket watch. He shook his head, his other two friends didn't exactly know the meaning of being on time.

"Probably kissing themselves." Jake smirked, flicking a leaf at Jay to annoy him, which worked when Jay got up from his sleeping position with a glare smeared on his face and slapped Jake's head.

"Just pretend you have affection towards her and all that and it'll be over in a minute." Jay adviced wisely, looking over at Heeseung's drooping figure. "I wish it was that easy." Heeseung sighed, "I don't want to get married, what if she's snobbery?"

"Hyung don't get poetic." Jay said sternly, moving his head to face Heeseung, "What is even love in these ages? And I am sure she'll be wonderful enough to make you some heirs."

"What's her name again?" Jake questioned, looking at the tree with his tongue stuck out, probably contemplating whether he should climb it again or not, "I hear she's of the far East."

"Princess Y/N of the Kingdom of Witchelm." Heeseung scoffed, "Ooh maybe they have witches!"

"Absolutely not." Jay sighed with a tiring expression.

"Whatever, I'm hoping to pay Priscilla a visit today." Heeseung pushed his hair out of his face.

"Does she love you yet?" Jake ashed with a cheeky grin.

"God I hope not." Heeseung shuddered, "She's just got a good mouth and a nice pussy for me to take. See you later boys."

"Fuck I needed this." Heeseung sighed laying back. The girl looked up at him as she placed her hand onto his cock, her other hand resting on his thigh. She licked the underside of it slowly back up, circling her tongue around the head.

"Fuck has your mouth gotten prettier since last time?" Heeseung chuckled, looking at the girl.

"Shut up and let me do my work." She responded, "You know this is the last time right?"

Heeseung scoffed and placed his hands on her head. "I know."

The girl took the head into her mouth, causing him to jolt. He patted her head which soon turned into him gripping her hair when she went back down again, now bobbing her head up and down. Making sure she reached all the way to the base, Heeseung helped by pushing Priscilla down further.

“Keep doing that thats a good girl” he stuttered out. The hand that was on his thigh reached down to massage his balls, lightly squeezing.

Would his new bride be good at giving him what he wants? Heeseung didn't know anything about her. Nor did he care really. She's probably the regular Mary Jane, a dull lifeless, smiling body, without balance in anything. He wished and prayed fervently that some sort of ballerina took her place instead.

Maybe that'd finally make him happy.

The reflection of Heeseung's mirror stared back at him, not noticing the utter beauty of his eyes. He never cared much for his handsome features, much preferring when people complemented how light he was on his feet.

But it was shameful for his parents.

Dancing? For a crown Prince? Preposterous!

It would have been outrageous if the kingdom found out that their prince preferred dancing over decrees. It wasn't that his mother and father didn't encourage his dancing, they loved seeing their son do what he loved. But to be a prince, a ruler, was to keep a reputation, and that couldn't be spoilt by something their son loved doing.

Heeseung sighed, taking a deep breath and counting his steps, every slow movement bringing him his happiness back inch by inch. Would his bride like dancing?, he wondered, that would be a pleasant thing. Atleast one thing in common with her.

His thoughts wandered carelessly as his feet did, sliding across the floor effortlessly, a gentle sway of the arm here and there, the ballet of a sawn without his mate.

He would be betrothed by tomorrow.

A fateful tomorrow, he hoped.

"And now we introduce, Princess Y/N of the Witchelm Kingdom!"

The man had a ridiculously nasally voice in Heeseung's opinion. Maybe they should replace him with someone who doesn't sound much like a parrot.

"Heeseung stand up straight." Heeseung's mother snapped at him from his right shoulder. Silently grumbling, he obeyed and adjusted his drooping figure along with the drowsy expression on his face. He would have rather ate a carrot than do this right now. The sound of bells and trumpets and what not, and all the ridiculously maroon stained curtains irritated him far too much. The sun was broiling hot, and there was not even an inch of a cloud in the sky. And his nose was rather itchy as well. Perhaps he should ask Jake for that rum again...

"Welcome to Tarnow, Princess." His father's formal voice broke Heeseung out of his train of thoughts, and as he snapped back to his senses, he realised the presence of a figure standing before him. Not caring to lift his eyes to look at the figure, he quickly bowed.

"How was the journey, my dear?" His mother asked in a saccharine sweet voice. She only ever used them with babies, Jay and extra important guests.

"Well the carriage certainly did not like the hefty rocks, but it was pleasant." Heeseung thought he had heard an angel speak for a moment, "Your kingdom is magnificent, Your Majesties." The figure in front of Heeseung curtsied, and that's when he caught a whiff of her perfume.

It was intoxicating, as if it was pulling his closer.

His eyes flickered up, to take a peek at the woman. She was clad in deep shades of maroon with gold trimmings illuminating her figure perfectly. Was this his bride to be?

"Prince Heeseung." You threw a curtsy to him, noticing the way his fawn like eyes were staring at you. Maybe the rumours were right. All the princes of Paradoxica were scoundrels who lounged after women.

"Princess Y/N." Heeseung finally bowed back, and you took note of the fact that his eyes stayed to the ground, not lingering over your figure as most usually did. Maybe he did have a tinge of respect in him.

"Well why wait here in this heat? Shall we lunch inside?" The Queen said in a joviant manner, extending her hand to you, which you took gratefully and stepped inside the castle walls, finally feeling at peace.

You were completely unaware of the pair of deer eyes following you.

Heeseung's first thought upon seeing you was the way you wore yourself. He had often learnt that the best of dancers always moved differently, which was always evident whenever he'd attend balls. The truest dancers would always walk as if they owned the very earth they walked on. Heeseung always felt that they had clouds for shoes.

And the way you walked, the way you held your shoulders, the way you each step echoed with the sound of the air, there was no way you couldn't have been a dancer like him.

But you were a princess, he reminded himself, his soon to be Queen. Dancing was to be put to the side for some time.

Or so he thought.

The luncheon had went quite well in your opinion. Apart from the fact that the King and Queen would not stop talking about the proposal ceremony and the wedding, and their son smirking into his peas whenever his parents came upon the topic of grandchildren, it had gone by in a breeze.

You were happy that Heeseung hadn't talked to you. You were far too tired to have any 'getting to know each other' conversations. He seemed a bit monotonous to you, at first glance atleast. You had always learnt never to judge a book by it's cover. But sometimes advice was made to be ignored, so you simply went on with your day, not caring about what kind of a person Heeseung was.

The rumours were enough for you to summarise his persona anyway. The people of Witchelm talked about him as if he was a splendid rose, one everyone wanted to take a look at. Kind, courageous, handsome, generous, blah blah blah. You would rather have married a fish if it was described as more interesting than him. Although the rumour that he really 'got around' in terms of pleasure had interested you. If that had been true, maybe you did like him. Atleast he would be understanding to the fact that had lied to everyone that you were still a virgin.

Tarnow had been a luxuriant kingdom, known to everyone as the first kingdom formed in all of Paradoxica, the oldest one, it spoke quite well through the aching castle walls when you were exploring the southern wing.

It was in a word, beautiful, with the fading architecture and all the women clad in luxurious silver, dancing their hearts out on the street. How you wished ever so fervently that you could join them.

Dancing was your life ever since you took your first steps. Witchelm was renowned for dancing, for ballet, ballroom and everything in between. It was a pity that you hadn't heard anything about the hobbies of the Prince. Perhaps he preferred dancing too. That would be a pleasant surprise, you thought, as you stepped into your chambers, where all your luggage had been arranged neatly.

"I think I can take over from now on." You curtsied to the girl who had led you over to the chambers. She bowed back and was about to leave when you thought to ask her the question that had been lingering in your mind for long.

"Is there a ballroom here?" The girl turned back abruptly at your question. She had hair as dark as coal and eyes even darker. A pretty sight.

"Oh yes, your Highness." She smiled at you, "We have the biggest ballroom in all of Paradoxica in fact. Most of the King's balls and state dances are held here."

"Then, there must be a place where they practice their dances is there not?"

The girl chuckled at your question and clicked her feet together.

"There is a humongous room in the western part of the castle that's basically empty space for dancing. But the Crown Prince spends most of his time there at night, so we aren't allowed to go there much. I can show you the way if you want."

"The western wing." You sat on the bed with a soft thump, "I can find my route don't worry. Thank you for everything."

The crown prince and dancing..... Peculiar. Very peculiar, you thought as you lay on the bed. You were thankful for finally getting out of the heavy purple gown, and putting on some actually comfortable robes. Although you had begged your mother to let you wear your favourite lavender shades, your mother has refused and put you in the darkest and most sweltering maroon gown. It was safe to say that you were a panting dog by the time you got out of the gown.

Picking up your quill and paper, you smoothed out the creases as you thought about what to write to your best friend back home. Gaeul was the kind of person to find out everything about someone before loving them, no matter what methods she used, so it wouldn't be a problem if you wrote 'i think the Prince likes dancing because a girl told me an extremely insignificant detail' in the letter to be sent to her.

Dipping your quill into the ink pot, you were about to start your letter when-

Knock knock knock

The door tapped thrice. It was safe to say that you were confused. Lunch was just five hours ago and it wasn't even dinner time yet, the sun hadn't set even though the sky had turned a deep purple.

Donning a clock over your robes, you stepped out of the comfortable silks of the bed and strode over to the magnificent, carved door. Tugging on the handle, the door made a creaking noise at it opened, making you cringe at the sound. You caught a figure lingering at the door. The same girl was there, the one who had led you here earlier today.

"Oh hello there." You said, opening the door to its full length, "What is the matter?"

The girl shuffled her feet before your eyes fell on her hands. A tiny black box.

"Someone left this in my chambers with a note attached to it your Highness." She said, "It gave the instruction to give it to you."

You looked at the box with uncertainty before snapping your eyes up to the girl. You took the box from her, your finger gently brushing against hers.

"What is your name?" You questioned, realising that you hadn't asked for it before. "Giselle, Your Highness." She answered, still looking at the ground.

"Thank you Giselle. You may go now." You shot her a smile which she returned meekly and scampered off.

Closing the door behind you, you eyed the box with uncertainty. What if it was some poison which wafted into the air as soon as you opened it? What if there was a lizard inside? You really did hate those dumb creatures. Thousands of thoughts flooded your mind as you looked at the box. You were reminded of your father's words to stop reading so many books with plots of bloodshed and mystery. As if you'd ever stop.

Caressing the box with your hand, you noticed how fine of a quality it had, it couldn't have been sent by any ordinary person. You lifted the lid of the box with hesitation running through your veins, only to find inside......a necklace?

A dainty pearl necklace lay inside the box, along with a tiny note, which you did not notice at first. You were far too captivated by the shimmering necklace. Pearls were a rare occurence in Witchelm, with it being a landlocked kingdom. But Tarnow, you had heard, had a vast coastline, so pearls were easily found.

You pondered upon who it could have been sent by. A secret admirer perhaps? The thought did excite you. But who on earth would send a box like this in these times?

As your thoughts ran wild through a forest again, your hand slightly tilted the box, and the note fell out. You bent down to pick it up and immediately took note of the fact that it was paper which was used for royal decrees. A secret admirer from the ministry?

Unfortunately your mind was disappointed as you ran your eyes through the note.

Wear it for me princess. Love, Heeseung.

Of course. A secret admirer, what were you even thinking? No one would have the courage to give the princess of a foreign country, a pearl necklace.

Rolling your eyes, you settled the box and the necklace into a drawer and put the tiny note into a separate one. The prince had a handsome signature, far better than your scribbles anyway.

The western wing had never seemed like a more interesting place

"I hope you find the chambers a comfortable place my dear?" The Queen's voice rang in your ear. God the atmosphere of the dining table made your hands sweaty.

The little conversations you had with the King and Queen weren't enough conversation for you. It was too.....formal, to regal. You wanted fun, but you knew you wouldn't get that. Not until tonight atleast.

Your plan to sneak out into the western wing was extremely flawed but you had not a care in the world. So what if there would be hundreds of people standing guard? You were quick on your feet, a dancer's gift.

You had silently observed Heeseung throughout the dining session. He seemed quiet, all the talkative ones do at first glance. You noticed the way his foot tapped away every now and then without a care and his fingers drummed his fork in hand. You hadn't a single idea if it was on purpose or not. You had read in the book Gaeul once loaned you that artists, like painters or dancers, can never keep their body still. They always have to be doing something with their hands or feet. So either Heeseung was secretly a painter, or he was a dancer. The former seemed to have more possibilities but it could always be the latter considering Giselle's words about the western wing.

Only one way to find out.

Your skin was filled with goosebumps as you walked down the chilly corridor. You were greatly surprised that there weren't many guards, perhaps Tarnow cared less about security.

You shouldn't doing this, this is dangerous, said a voice in your mind, but did you ever listen to it? No, no you did not.

The western wing was easy to locate, what with the huge painting of a woman pointing her finger towards a large corridor, with the words "Western wing" engraved onto the painting. It was darker than the other parts of the castle, maybe it was a secret wing shut off to everyone else except the Prince. There weren't many doors here either, which caused you to let out a sigh of relief. The dancing room would be easier to find.

And it indeed was, as you now stood in front of a huge oak door, the only one for miles on end. You hoped fervently that it wouldn't creak like the door to your chambers. And to your relief, it thankfully didn't, and the spectacle inside made you let out a gasp.

The prince.

So he wasn't a painter after all.

He was a dancer!

A plain show of beauty, you thought, the Prince was. He looked ordinary at first glance, but now, as your eyes trailed his moving figure, his feet gracefully gliding across the floor, hitting each moment to the melodies of the song he was humming, you'd have thought it was Apollo's incarnate himself. You were mesmerized by him, by his every movement, he was gentler than a swan with his fingers, his robe moving in sync as if he had been commanding it.

My my, he looked like a groom in need of a bride, you thought. You didn't know whether it was past midnight yet, even as the clock struck itself and made a loud noise, you were too distracted by the dancing prince. You would have loved to watch him for a bit more, if not for-

CREAK!

Stupid door!

Heeseung's head whipped around to the door as his humming and dancing stopped abruptly. "Who's there?" He cried, clutching his hand to his sword belt, "Come out!"

There was only one idea in your mind at that moment.

Run.

You hoped fervently the next day that the bags under your eyes would be put off by everyone as exhaustion from the long journey. You hoped that no one thought "Oh the princess obviously must have sneaked out to the dance room and ogled the prince!" Although the possibility of that happening was very low.

You slyly avoided the Queen's questions about your sleep by asking her about when the royal potrait of the groom and bride to be would be painted. And she responded with much happiness that it was to be this afternoon!

This afternoon. With the prince. Wasn't that a joy?

Your schedule was much packed that day, which was disappointing since you had wanted to sneak out to see the main ballroom which Giselle had informed you was in the Northern wing. First, you had to get into your gown for the portrait, which would easily take the entire afternoon. Then the actual portrait session would arrive and God knows how much time a simple layer of paint will take to dry.

"Do you paint my darling?" The Queen asked. "Yes." You answered, knowing damn well you couldn't draw a line if you wanted to. Well a lie in a lie is a truth wasn't it?

Afternoon arrived and so did the sweat drops on your forehead. Damn this gown, you thought as you dragged the heavy on the floor. You decided the first thing you'd do after becoming Queen is ban whatever material this is.

Approaching the door where the Queen had directed you to, you took the handle in hand and tapped it thrice to let whoever was inside know that you had arrived. "Come in." A familiar princely voice answered.

Oh great.

"My Lord." You sunk into a curtsey, not letting your eyes meet Heeseung's. Had he always been this tall and handsome or were you dreaming?

"Heeseung, princess, call me Heeseung." He wore pride quite well in his cunning smirk, you thought, as you looked at him quintessentially.

"Then you may call me by my name as well." You replied, glancing behind him to see an easel propped up, "Where is the painter?"

"Oh him? He's always late." Heeseung leaned back against the table behind him, "So princess, enjoying the palace's attractions?"

"Stop calling me that." You said, rolling your eyes out of annoyance, "And if the attraction is you, then no I'm not." He made the word seem like an enchanting melody, the handsome bastard.

"Would you prefer darling?" He smirked, pushing the stray strands of hair out of his face again. He looked like a siren, pulling you into an ocean you wanted to escape from, but didn't know how.

"Say, my darling," he leaned forward, looking at you with darkened eyes, "You're still a virgin aren't you?"

"Why, do you want to corrupt me?" You scoffed, settling yourself down on the loveseat, "Well bad luck, I'm not."

Heeseung looked taken aback for a moment, his eyes widened and he blinked a few times, but he composed himself quickly.

"Ah we have a little liar do we?" He chuckled lowly, his eyes still looking you up and down, "So you're a bad girl aren't you?"

"I don't care Lee." You crossed your arms, "This is just a marriage for politics, there's no way in hell you are going to magically make me fall in love with you, like in the books."

"You read romance?" Heeseung cocked his head to the side, "Well there's a thing we have in common."

The door to the room burst open before you could get another retort out and you breathed a sigh of relief as the painter rushed in with his assistants and started running about arranging everything.

You were even more thankful when you had to sit down for the portrait, far away from Heeseung. Although a weird pose, you supposed the painter would magically make something out of it.

Heeseung was more interesting that you had previously thought. Atleast he didn't treat you with the insufferable respect most princes did. He was....cocky, rude, daring. A rather sweet taste on your tongue.

Oh how you couldn't wait to sneak out to the west wing again.

You remembered to bring a shawl this time, draping it around your shoulders so that the cold, carved rock of the palace wouldn't let your skin break. You cursed yourself for almost knocking over a piece of what looked like driftwood sitting atop a table, willing aways it's time. The kingdom of Tarnow really had its unusual traditions.

The conversation you had with Heeseung today ran in your mind over and over again and again. You liked the taste of him, the way he stood, the way he held himself. And the way he spoke. You were going to have to come up with new retorts everyday. Well that's more interesting than suffering a life of 'i love you' or 'i will die for you'.

But for now, peering at him through the slightly ajar door was more than enough. Oh how he danced, the movements he made, an astral ballet in the air. He looked at peace, that cocky and confident demeanor was no more, it was replaced, instead by calm and cool. Your eyes tried not to linger to his waist and arms, how his shirt pressed tightly against his muscles. The sinful thought of having a touch of them echoed through your mind. The curve of his body fascinated you, oh he looked as pretty as an angel. Perhaps there is more to Heeseung than you thought.

"She's interesting, too Interesting." Heeseung drawled, as he chewed on his quill tip. To his right sat Park Sunghoon, another crown prince, who had inherited his kingdom without marriage and without everything Heeseung despised. At the moment, he was the only one who could provide Heeseung some comfort.

"Interesting as in she didn't fawn over you or interesting as in she's no a virgin?"

"Both." Heeseung answered leaning back in his chair, "And she's such a mystery, god I want to know more about her."

"There is a thing called conversation you know." A third voice called from across the room. A red haired man was sitting atop the table, casually willing away at grapes.

Kim Sunoo. The youngest crown prince.

"Oh really?" Heeseung smirked, "I though conversation wasn't mandatory or what was it you said last time Sunoo? 'Conversation is only for the loveless?'."

"You know who I meant it for." Sunoo rolled his eyes and hopped off the table promptly, "Anyway the Princess of Witchelm seemed a lovely character. I had a brief incursion with her out in the garden, and she's.....interesting."

"That's what hyung said too." Sunghoon popped a grape in his mouth from the table, clenching his face at the sour taste, "Just run up to her and you know, ask her what she likes."

"Great advice, Sunghoon."

"As if you can do better."

The gardens of Tarnow were a place you reveled in. The freshly mown grass, the sweet scent of daffodils, and the sight of bees almost everywhere elated you. And most importantly, the willow tree.

The grandiose tree reminded you of someone who knew what they were worth, like a Queen who knows exactly what she wants. That's who you wanted to be. A Queen who rebelled, headstrong like your mother always told you to be. And you would fill the streets with dance, music and laughter. Maybe even prompt Heeseung to show off his moves....

"And to what do I owe this pleasure?"

Death would have been more pleasurable than to endure Heeseung right now, as his voice disrupted your peace and quiet.

"You owe your hand in marriage apparently." You stared straight at him, not daring to break eye contact, which was hard considering how menacing Heeseung's stare was.

"Admiring the willow eh princess?" Heeseung plopped down next to you, landing on the grass with a soft thump, "You know, I planted this when I was an adorable child."

"Adorable?" You scoffed, "More like a fiend." Heeseung chuckled at your statement, turning his head to look out towards the landscape.

"I planted most of the trees in this garden." He said, staring ahead with unwavering affection in his eyes at all the greenery, "They've grown a lot since then, my mother says that planting them at a young age allows them to grow with you." The love in his tone made you want to coo at him, but you composed yourself, remembering what kind of a person he was.

"Was that too cheesey?" Heeseung smiled, turning his eyes to yours. "Just a little." You responded, not having the heart to break the moment.

The silence that followed was a dire one, but it was peaceful. Heeseung and you sat in it as if you were fluent, letting the breeze whip your hair about, and the grass seep into your veins. You were so immersed in the butterfly landing on the daffodil that you didn't even notice the leaves sticking to your hair.

"Your hair looks like a bird's nest right now, princess." You heard Heeseung laugh as you turned your head towards him. "Excuse me?" You said, pulling your hand up to stroke your hair, being horrified when you pulled pieces of leaves sticking to it.

"Oh for fuck's sake." You mumbled under your breath, "Ah damn this, I'm going back to the chambers. Good day, Heeseung."

"With a nest in your hair?" Heeseung raised a cocky brow, "Princess, be logical. No one is going to respect a future Queen who looks like she's walked out of a jungle." Heeseung's words were mean but true, "You know I can just remove them, if you ask kindly with that pretty mouth of yours."

You had never wanted to slam his head into a wall more than now. But your reputation also mattered. You were torn between the two choices; Heeseung or risking your reputation?

"Fine." You sat back down on the ground, "Take them out."

"Nicer, princess. Add a pretty please too."

Oh he was on thin ice. You rolled your eyes and grumbled, "Could you please take these leaves out of my hair? Pretty please?"

The scent of Heeseung's neck pressed to your nose as he leaned over to remove the leaves carefully. He touched your hair rather gently, as if you were a fragile doll, which surprised you. Your hand kept lingering at his stomach, holding itself back from touching his muscles.

"There." Heeseung leant back, "All pretty princess again." "Thanks." You muttered, making your way to get up.

"Uh uh uh princess, we aren't done yet." Heeseung pulled you back down, making you snatch your hand away from him, "I want to strike a deal with you."

That night as you watched Heeseung dance gracefully on the stone floor, you wondered how this was the same person you had met in the morning. The same person who had made you a wretched deal, now danced under soft candlelight, unaware of his future bride watching him through clandestine corners.

"Meet me in my chambers tomorrow, and I'll think about not spilling to everyone, your little 'pureness' secret."

Fuck the world. That was your first thought as you woke up the next day, got dressed, had breakfast, had a conversation with the Queen, and made your way down to Heeseung's chambers.

For what purpose must this have been done? For what purpose did you have to be betrothed to a man like him?

"Fine day, isn't it princess?" Heeseung smirked at you from behind his desk. Papers and scrolls were strewn all over the desk, along with ink pots and a couple of what seemed to be drying paintings. A few more were hung up on the wall.

"Is this why your mother asked me if I paint?" You traced your finger over a dried painting of a daffodil. Still life, boring as it may be, still caught your eye. Heeseung smiled to himself.

"She asks everyone that, thinks her grandchildren will be some sort of prodigies." "Grandchildren?" You looked up from the painting to Heeseung's smug face, "We aren't even close to friends and she wants grandchildren?"

"Rule of Law princess, there's an entire book about it." Heeseung leaned back, spreading his legs a bit further, god that shirt stuck to his muscles well.

"What am I doing here anyway?" You scoffed, sitting back on the chair facing him, "You want me to do your assignments or something?"

"Assignments, actually." Before you could blink a huge stack of papers lay in front of you, all stamped with decrees, "And in return you'll get some get sex and your secret not being spilt."

"Good sex?" You laughed haughty, "I highly doubt that. Especially from you."

"You think I can't fuck you better than your lovers?" Heeseung raised a brow at you, leaning back against his desk. "No I don't think so." You simply replied, reaching out a hand to get one of the decrees, but it was caught by Heeseung and before you could even flinch, he had you pressed against the desk.

"Want to test that theory?"

Your retort stuck in your throat when you engaged in a searing kiss and your lips met aimlessly—a real mess of tongues and teeth. Heeseung licked a strip across your teeth and thrust his tongue deeper, exploring the inside of your mouth like a sacred temple with only one chance to visit. Heeseung opened his mouth and gasped, lingering with a few more short, honeyed kisses between his panting breaths and your muffled moans. You scolded yourself for even getting a sound out of yourself at Heeseung's touch.

Heeseung's hand moved up your thigh, and you pressed your mouth to his throat, sucking hard enough to leave a mark.

"That's not the ideal place to leave a mark princess." Heeseung glared at you, to which you merely shrugged your shoulders. So what if Heeseung had a few hickeys on display to the kingdom?

Heeseung's hand travels upto your back, easily removing the dainty dress you had on. You silently thanked Giselle for giving you a dress instead of a gown today.

“is this what you wanted?” you slid your panties to the side, as Heeseung was about to reach further down your slide. He wouldn't have admitted it but he almost drooled at the sight of you. Taking a second to admire you, his voice echoes through your body, “I wonder how many others can have you like this.”

"Not many." You keep your eyes on him, "none of them fuck me as well as I want them to."

You lean forward a bit, making sure he gets a fantastic view of your cleavage. You decide to push the boundaries a bit further, your voice dropping to a sultry tone, fingers playfully tracing the edge of your bra's strap.

Heeseung's exhales a shaky breath, "you're playing with fire, y'know that?" His voice is low, it only spurs the warning and longing lingering inside you.

The world narrows down to the heat of his touch, the electrifying sensation of his fingers on your skin. You feel the rapid beat of his heart against your chest, mirroring your own anticipation. Heeseung's eyes, lock onto yours, a silent agreement passing between you.

Your nails scrape against his scalp and you squeak in shock as Heeseung's hips surge upwards, forcing his hard cock against you. The unabashed moan he lets slip is sinful and it’s all you want to hear for the rest of your life. You can’t stop the urge building up inside you, you’re not even certain you can stop moving your hips even if you wanted to.

His fingers catch the waistband of your bottoms. Heeseung traces your clit over the fabric feeling the warm, wet patch you’re leaving in them and then he teasingly slips a finger underneath, swiping two fingers along your slit, thumb, and index finger opening your pussy to his gaze. He presses a finger inside of you, slowly stretching out your tight hole. You groan, and his eyes roll back at the way your walls stretch around him. You rock harder against him, fucking yourself into his finger and wrapping your arms around his neck again. you just want to feel him against you.

"Fuck you're a tight one." Heeseung smirks into the crook of your neck, taking in your delicious scent, "Is this good enough for you princess?"

His half-lidded eyes look up at you as you contort on top of him, feeling overstimulated, with a single finger. He coos, his other hand sweeping over the back of your head sweetly, pushing back stray sweaty hairs. He nudges your nose with his, hand on the back of your neck, and tries to meet your eye. The squelch as his finger fucks into you, fast and deep, is the most beautiful thing he’s ever heard.

You can feel the tightening of your stomach, your intestines begging for air as your mind wants nothing more but to break free. The sweet edge of release feels better than ever with Heeseung than anyone else you've ever done this with. Fuck was he good. Just as you felt his finger sweep across your cunt one more time, and hot liquid come upto your cervix-

"Heeseung!" You gasped, feeling the painful feeling of having him pull his finger away from you. His smirking face added the fuel to the fire of your anger, as he slowly bent away from you, collapsing onto a chair and spreading his legs far. God did you want yourself propped on that thigh.

"I already told you princess." Heeseung's smug voice infuriated you, "Sex as a reward remember? And you haven't done anything so no reward. Simple logic."

"fuck you" "When princess?"

You were thankful Heeseung didn't make you work all night, you had time to admire his dancing again. He seemed so different when he was alone, so much more gentler, and it only made you hate him more. Why all the cocky behaviour when he was surrounded by people? You liked this softer side of him. You wished that he would get the courage to show that side to the world. Maybe in due time as all things come.

The rest of the days went the same. Rise and shine in the morning, greet Giselle as she gave you your bath, breakfast and burrowings, rush off to Heeseung in his chambers, do your 'assigments' whilst glaring at Heeseung, who glared back, get the desk a bit messier than it had been, and then sneak off to the western wing at late night to watch Heeseung. It was a bit redundant, but you liked this. Maybe it was the fact that Heeseung was someone who made you cum properly (although you wouldn't admit it) or maybe it was the fact that, from the past few days, he had started opening up to your more.

Ignoring the fact that your time with each other consisted of making angry retorts, you noticed that now, you knew more about Heeseung than before. His friends, family, ancient history, his hobbies everything, from A to Z was in your memory now. And you had to admit that you liked knowing more about him.

His sunlit eyes everyday as they silently perked up at the sight of you, the way his mouth dropped to give you the daily retort along with a tiny compliment too, the way his smirks now turned into smiles, and the way he leant nonchalantly against the great willow, when you'd go out into the garden for a little rest. Was this the love the poets described?

"Good news princess." Heeseung strode into his chambers as you stretched your neck from sitting in the chair all day completing a decree, "We're having a ball."

Collapsing on his bed with a thump, Heeseung groaned as he stretched out his aching limbs. Jay really did always do a number on him in practice.

"A ball?" You questioned, rising from your seat, walking over to the bed and climbing on, "For us?" Heeseung looked at you and nodded. "It's supposed to be a pre-pre-pre wedding ball, according to mother dearest."

"Will there be dancing?" You asked excitedly. You hadn't danced in so long that your feet longed to be in some tap shoes and a big flowy gown again.

"Yep, and guess what?" Heeseung smiled at you, "We're going to dance together."

"Oh I am an amazing dancer." You bragged, raising your chin high, "So it's fine if I outshine you right?"

"Please, I am much better at dancing." Heeseung sat up, facing you, "It's fine princess, they'll notice you at the wedding if they don't at the ball."

"Dance for me then." You gave him a cheeky smile. Would he agree? This is what you had been wanting for a long time. "No." Heeseung merely said, checking his bitten nails.

"Are you that horrible of a dancer?" You chuckled. But before you had time to laugh more, a fluffy pillow landed straight on your face with force. Heeseung's smile had never been wider.

"Don't do that you bastard!" You cried, picking up a pillow and hitting his shoulder with it to which he laughed raucously. "Or what?" He laughed again, hitting you with the pillow repeatedly. Stray feathers let loose from the pillows but you had not a care in the world as Heeseung chased you around the room with the pillow clutched in his hand. This had been the most fun you've had in ages.

Young love? So refreshing for a narrator isn't it?

You looked stunning. Your reflection, clad in soft hues of your favourite colour stared back at you, as your eyes ran up and down your body, hugged tightly by the fabric.

The ball had came sooner than you had anticipated, maybe it was the fact that you were so excited for it.

You'd be dancing your heart out tonight. With Heeseung. How you had longed to match his movements for so long, and now you finally had the chance.

"How do I look?" You meekly asked Giselle, who looked like a jewel in her own gown. "Like a true Queen, my lady." She giggled, dipping into a tiny curtsy.

"Shall we move then?"

Heeseung hadn't been too excited about the ball. He had seen too many of them to be entertained by any. And plus, there wasn't a proper lady to dance with either. Where were you? His thoughts, which were running aloof, came to a halt as his eyes landed on someone descending from the staircase.

Was that....you?

Indeed it was, as he blinked his eyes a few times to get into his mind the fact that you, his bride to be, were walking down from the staircase, looking like someone he's always loved for centuries. That, he did, but of course he wouldn't tell you that. Your snarky remarks from time to time, the way you smiled at his retorts and the way you remained a complete mystery to him, no matter how much he found out about you. Love, love, love, was what Jay had told him.

"My lord." You dipped into a curtsey in front of Heeseung. God he smelled exactly like the willow, enchanting and sweetly poisoning. You tried your hardest to avert your eyes from the tightly hugging fabric around his arms and his belt too. You fervently wanted your hands to be tied to it.

"You look pretty, princess." Heeseung winked at you, wrapping an arm at your waist, but not before giving you a look of access, "May we?" He motioned towards the dance floor, where a few women and men had their arms wrapped around each other lovingly. Would Heeseung and you ever be like this, you thought, as he led you over to the marble floor. You would have liked that, you'd have liked that a lot.

You could feel the eyes on you as Heeseung took your hands to his lips and pressed a small peck there. "Ignore them." He smiled up at you, "Time to show off your dancing, princess."

Gulping down the breath you've had in for a long time, you gasped in silence as one of Heeseung's arms pressed against your waist in a position for your waltz. You took your breath in accordance with Heeseung as the violins whipped their bows and the grandiose music began.

Dance was often described as the art of the soul, you'd never seen a living example of it, until now, as your entire body and mind moved in synchronisation with Heeseung. It felt as if dancing on a cloud you've longed to be on, when you were swaying with him. His grip on yours, his eyes tracing yours, and his demeanor being the one of the swan you had spied on in the western wing, it enchanted you, pulled you in to the whirlpool of Heeseung himself. You could have stayed like this forever, swaying in a gown with Heeseung at your start.

Heeseung was intoxicated as well, it was sweet venom lacing his veins, as the clandestine rendezvous of your movements got him to the highest of highs, one that even the most addicted couldn't have reached.

"Enjoying the view?" You cocked a brow at him, noticing the way he was staring at you. You were thankful that a lot of other people had joined the dance and you weren't the only ones dancing now.

"Funny, I was about to ask the same thing." He smirked at you, his eyes tilting down to your cleavage.

"You've seen more than just my cleavage and it's still driving you crazy isn't it?" You raised your chin, "Pathetic, Heeseung."

"Pathetic is it princess?" Heeseung's voice dropped to a low, as he leant over to your ear, his breath hitting your cold skin, whispering words that made your breath drop.

"More pathetic than the western wing?"

To be continued.....

Taglist: @amazzwon @heeseungshim @yunabi436 @kvmariii @sacrificeatmeup send an ask to be tagged

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deadbydad-writes · 4 months

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Punk!Miguel x Ballet!Reader. Reader invites Miguel over to her parents for winter break. They sleep in separate rooms, but in the middle of the night, Miguel sneaks into her childhood bedroom and fucks her as she struggles to keep quiet. If you could include both daddy/mommy kink and breeding kink (the idea of Miguel getting her pregnant in her childhood bed, while under her parents roof, is just so hot for some reason), that be wonderful ❤️

This could also work for Ice Skater! Reader x Hockey Player! Miguel, either or would be fine with me. Whatever’s easier for you ☺️

I LOVE THIS!

You didn't know if bringing your boyfriend Miguel to your parents' place for the day was a good thing or a bad thing.

You had been nervous and terrified when your parents asked if Miguel would be able to come and stay during the winter break, but you said yes anyway since you thought it was time that they met him anyway.

You and Miguel were different types of people. He was a punk and you did ballet, there really wasn't more that you could say. Miguel was always quiet and seemed annoyed with everyone while you always had a smile on your face and loved talking to people. You guys were polar opposites, but that' what probably attracted you to each other, and you were okay with that.

When you guys had made it to your parents house and settled in, you were scared about how your parents would feel and think about Miguel. You had never dated a guy like him before let alone brought one home, so you didn't know what to expect.

But, to your surprise and relief, your parents loved Miguel. He helped your mom cook dinner and even helped your dad cut wood for the fireplace. Hell, your dad told him that he approved of Miguel, which you didn't know if it was a good thing or a bad thing, but you didn't ask. It made you happy that your parents liked him.

When it was time for bed you and Miguel had been placed in separate rooms that night. Miguel would sleep in the guest room and you would stay in the bedroom you grew up in.

Your room was pink with little ballerina's painted on the walls and the pillowcases on your bed were white with pink dots and your blanket was a baby pink shade. You were still small enough to fit in your old bed. Your bedroom had thin walls so when you had laid down you turned the volume on your phone way down while watching a movie.

Everything was silent...for about an hour.

It seemed that Miguel didn't like the fact that you slept in a separate room from him because about thirty minutes after your parents had gone to bed, he made his way out of the guest room and into your room, shutting the door and locking it behind him.

At first you thought that he just wanted to cuddle...but you were so wrong.

And this is how you found yourself laying underneath him with your face buried into the soft pillows underneath you to quiet your moans that threatened to escape past your lips, his large hands gripping your hips as he pounded into your tight wet heat from behind, his bare back pressed against your own and he kissed the skin on your neck and shoulders.

"Look at you," he whispered into your ear with a dark chuckle. "Taking my cock so well, even on your childhood bed.

He grabbed you by the hair and turned your head to the side so he could crash his lips against your own, instantly licking into the cavern of your mouth with a growl.

"Daddy," you whined against his lips, the pleasure from the tip if his cock hitting that one spot inside you that made you see stars was starting to hurt in the most amazing way possible. You closed your eyes as you felt one of his hands move from your hip to lay on your flat stomach.

"Is it bad that I want to get you pregnant on your old bed?" Miguel let out another growl and started to fucking into you harder.

You let out a moan at his words and the thought.

"You would look so good, round and full with my babies," he groaned into the crook of your neck, his hips still grinding against yours as he nibbled on your neck. "Gonna be such a good mami for your papi, aren't you mi amor?"

You nodded your head desperately, too cock-drunk to form an actual response. You couldn't help but think about his words, about how you would look with your belly all swollen with Miguels children.

He would take such good care of you and your babies, keep you and them safe.

Finally, after a few seconds later, you felt his movements come to a halt as his cum filled you up, his cock still inside you to make sure none of it came out. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you came on his cock from the feeling.

"Gonna be such a good mami," Miguel whispered into your ear and pressed gentle kissed along your neck and jaw as he spooned you from behind.

You closed your eyes and put a hand on your stomach, a smile on your face at the thought of his babies growing inside of you.

And sure, maybe your parents did ask you about the noises from last night and the marks on your neck, but they wouldn't care when in about a month after then you and Miguel would tell them that you're expecting triplets.

Maybe bringing Miguel to meet your parents for the winter break was a good thing after all.

Holy fuck my fingers hurt, but I enjoyed writing this!

Honestly, kind of want to do a part two to this with the reader being pregnant with the triplets...what do you, the one who requested this and the lovely people who are reading this, what do you guys think? Should I make a part two? It probably won't be smutty but send anything you want to see in my inbox!

#miguel o'hara smut #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara #across the spiderverse #miguel spiderman #miguel spiderverse #atsv miguel #spiderman #miguel x reader #atsv

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jaquemuses · 3 months

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i’m an angst comfort GIRL so if you would be interested in writing anything maybe about childhood friends enzo and reader where it’s right people wrong time for years ( definitely mutual feelings, maybe reader always thought enzo was too good for them so they never really thought they had a chance but is oblivious to the fact that enzo was head over HEELS for them but was worried about dragging them into the spotlight as he grew more famous) until they finally end up together i’d be thrilled!! ofc no matter what thank you so much!! have a great day/night!!❤️❤️

GIRL ME TOO !!! so glad you requested it, i wrote this, hope u enjoy it ♡♡

Starry night | Enzo Vogrincic

Synopsis: Sharing feelings has always been challenging, but under the starry sky, sitting right beside his childhood friend on the eve of his movie premiere party, Enzo confesses a love that has lingered his heart since he was seven.

Word count: 1.5k

Content: Enzo Vogrincic/Reader, mutual pining, childhood friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, fluffy overall, no explicit content, focus on emotions, and strong affection for Enzo, references to ghibli's movies.

a/n: hi there !! i hope you guy enjoy this i pulled an all nighter just to write it lmaooo so bear with me if there's any typos or such; english isn't my first language, but I hope it's a good read!

- xoxo Kara ♡

Time slips away so quickly.

Beneath the starry sky, the weight of its passing moments engulfs you like a fuzzy tidal wave, heavy and suffocating. Sinking beneath its weight has become your routine.

A soft, resigned sigh escapes your lips, the midnight air crisp on your tongue, turning into vapor in the summer night. Beyond your sight, stars burn in tandem, the cosmos vast and immersive. The moon, tonight, is a big blob of reflected sunlight, smiling tenderly, casting a soothing glow like a mother's voice.

In the familiarity of the sight, there's comfort. The moon, always there, in crescents or hidden by clouds, a constant in a changing world. What a peculiar and lovely thing it is to be under the celestial dance, where even the moon, with its timeless presence, seems to join the ever-moving cosmic ballet.

As you lay on the rooftop, the distant melody of music from the house below reaches your ears. It's a reminder of shared laughter, playful banter, and the bond you once had with Enzo. The thought of losing him, not just as a childhood friend but as this life partner makes you wanna cry right there.

Another second lost, as you gaze into the nothingness of space. Time keeps passing you by, never stopping —seconds turning into minutes, minutes turning into months. that incessant moving of the hands of the clock; tick, tock, tick, tock. over and over again.

and, really, it's a little bit scary. you think you might be terrified of time. you're so afraid, afraid of being left behind, afraid that the world will turn its back on you and then walk away. afraid that everyone and everything will change shape before you know it

The music serves as a soundtrack to your memories, a bittersweet symphony echoing through the night. Enzo, your companion through the years, feels like he's slipping away, and the weight of that potential loss is heavy against the backdrop of the starlit sky.

But even in this always-changing, turbulent mess of a life

one thing remains the same;

"Ah, there you are," Enzo's voice, honeyed and familiar, breaks the silence. A small smile graces your lips at the sight of him.

That voice...

honeyed and smooth, but still rough around the edges, just a little husky. Deep and familiar, etched into your brain; even if you were to forget everything else, you're sure you'd still remember it. That familiar voice. It sounds like moonlit nights, and sunkissed kitchens.

it sounds like coming home.

A turn of your head. it's a subconscious reaction, as natural as the beating of your own heart, memorized down to the very marrow of your bones — muscle memory, to seek him out after hearing the low timbre of his voice. You do it as if it's the only thing worth hearing.

And Enzo is smiling, when your eyes meet his. That gentle upward tug of his lips, small yet sincere. The one that always puts your mind at ease.

"How'd you know I'd be up here?" you tease, a playful glint in your eyes.

"Lucky guess," Enzo replies, his grin revealing the comfort of shared moments.

Of course, he knew. Tracking you down was his thing, always has been. Like that time when he found you concealed under a table at your twelfth birthday party or the time he discovered you teary-eyed in the woods during your school field trip.

Finding you always comes easy to Enzo. Almost like he's always seeking you out, subconsciously or otherwise, always paying attention to your movements. You go south, and he follows, you go north, and he's already waiting up ahead.

"Damn, how'd you know?" you playfully pout, looking into him.

"I always know, silly" Enzo confesses softly, his eyes holding a warmth that speaks volumes. "I've known you since we were seven"

A gentle inhale passes between you as the silence settles, the moon casting its glow on your shared history.

"I thought you might be too busy with, you know, the whole famous actor thing," you admit trying to make it a joke but insecurity creeps into your words. "Congratulations on that, i always knew you'd make it"

The whole party underneath you both was for Enzo, you felt kind of stupid for leaving so suddenly, after all tonight's was Enzo's night. But before he realized it, you had slipped away, seizing the chance as soon as others grew too drowsy to take notice.

But he always notices you.

And he's worried. just a bit, is what he tells himself but truthfully it's more than that.

You look small, enzo thinks, curled up with your knees to your chest. Sitting all alone up on the roof of his home, a place you'd always go to on nights when you couldn't sleep. Together, sharing whispered secrets and hushed laughter until the sun began to rise again. Back then, it felt like the two of you were the only ones awake in the whole world.

(the safest world he's ever known.)

The distance between you grows narrower, as enzo makes his way over to you - and it always does, at the end of the day. No matter how much time you spend apart, that uncomfortable distance always, always ends up broached. One of you always moves closer. As if it's unavoidable, two planets spinning around each other's orbit.

Enzo sits down right next to you, crossing his legs and leaning back. his knee bumps against the side of your shoe, and his shoulder grazes yours. It's natural, as natural as the glow of the moon, this closeness between you. It reminds you of the gentle lapping of the ocean waves of Punta del este at your bare ankles; on mellow summer days when you were 10 and went to a trip with your parents and Enzo's, comforting and familiar. A warmth that never goes away.

The moon bathes the rooftop in a gentle glow as Enzo chuckles in response to your teasing remark. "Busy? Yeah, it gets a bit crazy, but it's moments like these that remind me of what truly matters. And you know im never too busy for you." He shifts, a thoughtful expression on his face, as he gazes at the city below.

A brief inhale, and your heartbeat settles into a tender rhythm again. The scent that always lingers on Enzo's skin drifts throughout the air, mingling with your own — it can be hard to distinguish between the two, with how often you end up wearing each other's clothes, but you could never mistake it for anything else. Cedarwood and earl gray, with a hint of coconut-scented shampoo enveloping every single one of your senses, grounding you in a way nothing else can.

Leaning just a little closer to him, subconsciously, youet a fond exhale slip from your lips. Barely audible. And Enzo mimics it.

The silence between you is a comfortable one. Always has been. A little fickle, always shattered by one of you before long —usually you, though enzo isn't much better. But this time, he stays silent.

He's waiting. You know he is, because he always does.

He's waiting, waiting for you to break the silence first. Waiting for you to say something, tell him what's wrong, explain why you're up here instead of celebrating with the others. Waiting for you to explain why your eyes have looked so tired, this past week.

Enzo is nothing if not patient. So he waits, unbothered by the silence. Admiring the stars, and the flicker of their light. A vague worry simmers in his chest, however, and he can't stop himself from glancing down at you every now and then.

An insatiable yearning to soothe you gnaws at his heart

—but he can't, not unless you let him.

A sigh drops from your lips, suddenly. Deep and heavy, ike a rock thrown into the depths of a lake. The silence breaks.

"En...?"

The guy stays quiet, just humming inquisitively. He avoids eye contact, showing respect. He figures you'll spill what's on your mind more comfortably without him staring.

Your fingers lightly tap the rooftop tiles out of habit. You take in a bit of the midnight air—it's got that summer taste. "Remember how we first met?"

Enzo glances at you, surprise flickering in his eyes. He can't resist the urge to peek at your face, savoring your expression. Then, a chuckle escapes him. "Are you feeling sentimental?" he teases, a playful note in his voice, light and airy like seafoam. "Did you come out here just to reflect?"

The corners of his lips lift when he hears you huff, pulling your legs closer with a furrowed brow. Cheek pressed against your kneecap, you meet his gaze.

"Come on," you whine, pouting childishly, a trick you know will make him give in. "Just indulge me a little."

Enzo smiles, soft around the edges, radiating unmistakable fondness. He always indulges you. "Of course I do," he assures you.

The quiet settling between your words holds a tender understanding, a silent agreement.

"Of course, I remember. How could I forget? You broke into my backyard."

A sigh, weighty and pointed, escapes your lips. Enzo fights back a grin; his eyes dance with teasing mischief in the darkness as you shoot a glare his way.

"Okay, first of all," you begin, "I didn't break into anything. I climbed over the fence. Peacefully."

Enzo raises a brow. "That literally doesn't matter; it's still trespassing."

"I was seven years old!"

"Damn! Some of you criminals start young."

Another playful huff escapes you as you halfheartedly attempt to sound annoyed. Unsuccessful, you hide your growing smile by tucking your face into your knees. "Whatever."

Then your gaze shifts, drawn to the expanding starry sky, the vibrant flicker of the moon like a moth to a flame, helpless to its charms. It resembles a giant sponge cake, reminiscent of the ones you and Enzo used to make when that was the only recipe you knew – you'd eat from the batter, and he'd scold you. Then he'd do the same when your back was turned.

A smile graces your lips. In each star, a new memory unfolds, and the warm nostalgia surrounding you makes your heart feel exposed. "I just wanted to pet Ada" you reminisce, softly rememberig how little the cat was back then.

Enzo nods, his gaze directed at you, reveling in the expression on your face – tranquil and at ease, a bit more of yourself. Effortlessly lovely, bathed in moonlight. "Yeah, I remember."

He lets the memory carry him away for a moment or two, recalling the sight of you all those years ago, an unfamiliar child in his backyard. It was as if you had fallen from the sky – quiet and shy, yet with an excited glimmer in your eyes as you looked at his cat.

"You just pointed to her and expected me to understand," he continues, a grin blooming on his face, hopelessly endeared. "You were so shy back then."

A raise of your eyebrow. "Um? I'm still shy?"

Enzo gives you a look. He doesn't have to say anything – it's written all over his face. The classic Vogrincic look, the kind where you can tell he's itching to say, "Oh, really now?" The kind where he tries to appear judgmental but never quite manages to hide the amusement in his eyes.

A soft chuckle escapes your lips, and Enzo smiles once more, utterly captivated by your joy.

"Then we watched movies at my place,"

You hum. "It was fun."

"Yeah," he agrees.

Another spell of silence descends, tender and incredibly precious. The air is cool but not enough to make you shiver – a mild summer night, gentle on your skin and light on your heart. A soft breeze tousles your hair, and in the distance, cicadas buzz – a familiar, unchanging sound.

(If only everything else could remain the same, too.)

"Do you remember what movie it was?"

A lazy smile graces Enzo's lips as he turns to look at you, one eyebrow raised.

"Is there a point to this, or are you just trying to make m–"

"I just wanna reminisce."

Enzo pauses, observing your gaze as it wanders across the landscape, from the moon to the distant city lights. Absentmindedly fidgeting with the strings of your hoodie, you seem a bit lost, your eyes forgotten within the depths of the endless night sky.

No more teasing, he decides, choosing a more delicate approach. He answers your question softly, as if each octave of his voice could potentially cause you harm. "Whisper of the Heart," he reveals.

A little nod follows your hum of agreement. "Thats a top-tier one."

Enzo shifts his gaze away, muttering something under his breath. Still audible, though. "Spirited Away takes the cake..."

Catching a glimpse of your unimpressed look, he suppresses a soft laugh. His teeth graze his lip gently, just enough to avoid any sting.

"You're so basic," you playfully grin.

"You just want to feel special," Enzo retorts, quick on the uptake. "And you only like it because of Seji."

"You're only a Spirited Away fan because of Haku!"

Enzo closes his eyes, leans back a bit, crossing his arms in a somewhat childlike manner – a move aimed at drawing out laughter. "I don't know what you're talking about," he pretends.

"Oh, come on," you scoff. "Do you really think I've forgotten your sudden "enlightenment"?"

"Hm? What's that?" Feigning confusion, Enzo puts a hand to his ear, amusement twinkling in his eyes. "You'll have to come closer; I can't hear you from here."

Another unimpressed look accompanies your exhale, a mix of a scoff and a chuckle. "If I get any closer, I'll be in your lap, goofball."

Enzo bites his cheek gently, holding back the words that almost slip off his tongue.

(He wouldn't mind)

"Sorry, can you repeat that?" A playful nudge meets his shoulder as you roll your eyes.

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever."

The banter fades away as quickly as it came. Then, smiles break out across both your faces simultaneously, the atmosphere shifting into something more sincere. Doesn't it always when you're gazing at the starry sky with the one you love most?

As Enzo continues, his voice takes on that softer tone once again—the one thats only reserved for you. "I always liked imagining us as them," he confesses. "Me as Haku, and you as Chihiro."

A soft blink, and your smile sweetens like syrup. "...That's amusing," you cross your legs, palms flat against the roof, knee comfortably leaning against Enzo's. "I always thought of us as Seiji and Shizuku."

There's a distant look in your eyes, something Enzo can't look away from. Tentatively, his fingers press into the skin of his palms, and he speaks, absentminded and a bit uncertain. ".. they get married at the end, don't they?"

A pause, then your gaze locks onto Enzo's, suddenly mischievous – and he regrets opening his mouth.

"Oh?" you purr, almost beaming, closing the distance like a

predator sizing up its prey. "Oh, really? Is this a proposal, Mr. Vogrincic?"

"I'm just stating facts" he quips, hands raised in defense, hoping you won't notice the red tint creeping up his neck, hidden by the night.

"Incorrect facts," you grin. Whether you catch the blush or not, you don't mention it. "They get engaged, not married. Big difference."

Enzo huffs, small, trying to suppress a smile. The beat of his heart is faint, a gentle rhythm stirred by every move you make. He pushes back the words he longs to say. "I wouldn't mind that, either."

Once again, silence envelops you, weaving around the space between you. It's comforting, just being like this; you and your best friend under the moon's soft glow. As if you're the sole inhabitants of an otherwise vacant universe, free from space and time.

Like the night could pause and stretch on forever.

Yet, there's an unspoken question lingering. One Enzo is still waiting for you to answer. One you won't address until he does the same.

Both of you have noticed, even if no one else has – the turmoil in your eyes, the fatigue under his. Those subtle signs of stress as everything around you keeps twirling on, as the future approaches with every passing day.

"Remember how school felt like it would last forever, and now... it's all just a blur."

Enzo's eyes light up with nostalgia. "Yeah, the days when we believed we could conquer the world. Time goes by so quickly." He pauses, a wistful smile playing on his lips. "But hey, we had some pretty great adventures."

A soft laugh escapes you. "Adventures, mischief, and a fair share of detentions. I miss those days."

Enzo grins, "Our secret base, the pranks we pulled, and the dreams we shared. Life was simpler back then."

You sigh, "Simpler, but full of possibilities. Now everything feels like it's rushing by, and I can't keep up."

Enzo reaches for your hand, offering a comforting squeeze. "You're not alone in feeling that way. I miss the simplicity too, but some things haven't changed." He looks into your eyes, his gaze holding a depth of emotions.

"Yeah, your talent and that dream that's not a dream anymore En. Its now your reality, and I'm so proud of you, I'd always knew you'd make it" You said with a nostalgic smile on your face.

Deep down, you knew you'd end up losing him; he had everything to succeed in the industry.

Enzo meets your gaze, a hint of gratitude in his eyes. "Thank you, sweetheart... It means a lot to hear that from you."

As Enzo utters the endearment "sweetheart," a fluttering sensation courses through your stomach, a delicate dance of butterflies that seems to synchronize with the newfound warmth in your chest. With a surge of emotions enveloping you, you can't help but wrap your arms around Enzo's body, hugging him tightly and feeling the size difference between the both of you. A murmured "of course" escapes your lips.

The moonlight paints a soft glow around you both, and the distant sounds of the party create a gentle background melody. Enzo takes a moment after the hug, collecting his thoughts, his thumb gently caressing the back of your hand.

"There's something I've been wanting to tell you for a long time, You know?" He starts, catching your eye. "Oh look who's reflecting now" You say as you laugh softly. "What is it?"

"These moments, right here, remind me of the times when life was simpler, and we were just two kids dreaming under the same sky." He pauses, searching for the right words.

"You know, when we were younger, I used to take you to the cinema, to the lake, even on your 15th birthday... Each time, I wanted to tell you something important, but I never found the right moment. It's been on my mind, and I'm tired of postponing it."

Your heart quickens at his words, confusion mingling with anticipation. Enzo's expression shifts, becoming more serious yet tender.

"Do you remember those times? I was trying to say that..." He hesitates a little, his eyes looking straight into yours, noticing how every single star can fit on your gaze "I'm in love with you. From the days of our childhood adventures to now, you've always been the girl of my dreams. I wanted to share my success with you because you've been my constant, my anchor."

The weight of his confession hangs in the air, and your mind races to process the revelation. Enzo continues, "I know that recently the world sees me as this actor, but to you, I just want to be Enzo. The boy you've known since we were seven. I'm tired of hiding my feelings, and I didn't want to lose another moment without letting you know."

Silence stretches between you, the memories of your shared past intertwining with the present. You're caught between the familiarity of nostalgia and the unexpected confession, yet, suddenly, some things start to make sense.

Enzo's eyes search yours, vulnerable and earnest.

"En, wait... what do you mean? In love with me? Like, as a friend or...?" Your words trail off, searching for clarity.

Enzo takes a deep breath, his thumb caressing the back of your hand. You can feel him shaking. "No I mean, romantically in love with you. Since we were kids, I've tried to tell you, but I never found the right moment."

Your eyes widen, replaying moments in your mind. "Wait, are you saying all those times – the cinema, the lake, my 15th birthday – you wanted to confess your feelings?"

Enzo nods, a mix of vulnerability and sincerity in his eyes. "Exactly. I kept hoping for the perfect moment, but life just kept moving too fast"

Your mind races, grappling with the revelation. Enzo continues, "What im trying to say is you've been the girl of my dreams since i can remember. I wanted to share my success with you, not just as an actor but as the person who's been my constant through it all."

Silence envelops the rooftop, the city of Montevideo below seemingly hushed in anticipation. Enzo looks at you, his expression a mosaic of hope and uncertainty.

After a moment of processing, you break into a soft laugh. "Enzo, this is... I... i just never saw this coming... oh my god"

With a warm smile, Enzo pulls you into a hug, and you reciprocate, embracing the familiarity of his presence. "Its okay if you dont feel the same... but I... I've just been carrying this for so long; it feels good to finally share it with you." He says with a sad tone.

As you're held in Enzo's embrace, the vulnerability of the moment encourages you to share your own feelings. "Enzo, no... Its not that, its just that I... I never thought you'd see me that way. I always felt like you were way too good for me, like I'd never be enough, so i always thought it'll be pointless to confess because you'll end up leaving me... And its just the thought of losing you as a friend and now knowing you've felt this way for so long, it's just overwhelming."

Enzo loosens the hug, gently holding your shoulders as he looks into your eyes. "You were always more than enough. I never wanted to risk our friendship, but holding back these feelings became harder as time went on. Our friendship means the world to me, and the fear of losing you kept me silent."

Tears glisten in your eyes as you continue, "I spent so many nights up here on this rooftop, wondering if I was just another friend among many for you. I never thought I could be the one you'd be in love with."

Enzo wipes away a tear with his thumb, a tender smile on his face. "You were never just another friend. You were the one who understood me, laughed with me, and stood by me through it all. And I've been in love with you since we were kids."

The weight of unspoken emotions finally laid bare, you share a bittersweet laugh. "Guess we were both too scared to ruin what we had."

Enzo nods, his hand now resting on your cheek. "Maybe, but holding back feels like a bigger risk now. I don't want to waste any more time, not when i don't know how much of it we have left"

As the moonlight bathes both of you, you take a deep breath and finally say, "Enzo, I've always been in love with you too."

A shared understanding and a newfound honesty linger in the air as Enzo leans in and his lips meets yours in a tender kiss, a culmination of years of unspoken emotions and shared moments. In that intimate exchange, the rooftop becomes a sanctuary for a new beginning, and just for that moment: time seems to stand still.

#enzo vogrincic x you #enzo vogrincic one shot #enzo vogrincic fanfic #enzo vogrincic #enzo vogrincic x reader #enzo vogrincic fluff #enzo vogrincic blurb #friends to lovers #childhood friends

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tycutiovevo · 7 months

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got another batch of variants, this time with tangela! themed these guys around styles of shoe! which one is your favorite?

like with my dunsparce post, im gonna ramble under the cut about each one :^)

standard tangela, best known as sneakers tangela. this is tangela as most people know it. however, most don't know that it's signature red feet are actually shoes! they protect tangela's delicate feet from damage. trainers that know this will often buy new shoes for their pokemon, much to tangela's delight.

high heels (+roselia): grass/poison. this variant is highly popular with the most fashionable people and trainers. it has a haughty attitude but an incredible fashion sense, and can be seen in both contests and next to models on the runway, sporting a pair of shoes that matches the model. trainers are advised to be careful with its brambles, as they can cause acute poisoning.

rollerskates (+jumpluff): grass/fairy. these tangela variants are carefree and energetic, and love rollerskating alongside their trainers. they are capable of performing tricks on their skates due to their lightweight bodies.

high tops (+carnivine): grass. these tangela, along with the boots variant, are popular with people and trainers that want a cool looking pokemon. high tops tangela are up for anything, and are also capable of digesting things they wouldn't normally be able to.

boots (+cacturne). grass/dark. boots tangela are brooding and moody, but many teenage trainers and punk trainers alike adore their attitude and style. they may seem aloof, but they care a lot about their appearance.

ballet shoes (+hisuian lilligant): grass. elegant and poised, these tangela are popular with dancers. they have often starred as backup dancers in ballet performances of both humans and pokemon. wild ones will follow hisuian lilligant, as if it were their leader.

sandals (+comfey): grass/fairy. a laid back and companionable tangela popular with most everyone. the petals that fall from its body can be brewed in tea for a healing effect. additionally, the aroma that comes from the blooms is said to cheer up anyone.

#art #my art #pokemon #pokemon variations #pokemon variants #tangela #roselia #jumpluff #carnivine #cacturne #lilligant #comfey

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mangokabuto · 2 months

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Some dance + real-world-equivalent-ethnicity headcannons :)

Some more little bits i be thinking abt for those who want more dance content: (under the cut)

Usopp with his salsa fundamentals and luffy with his vague memories of samba end up, at some point, coming up with their own much more chaotic combo of the two. They r spinning around so fast its insane. Luffy is about to launch them into the sun. They're having a great time.

Sanji being absolutely miffed when the only other ppl on the crew who know how to couple's dance with him are Usopp and Luffy. He gets over it ofc, being able to actually dance with another person quickly overwhelms the "I wanted to tango with a beautiful lady" grief

Sanji being able to help Usopp re-learn salsa and them bonding over their moms abt it 🥲Luffy is a lost cause tho he's not learning shit /j

BaroqueWorks Robin and Bon Clay bonding over ballet Q_Q

Brook inventing the most INSANE new dips/twirls/transitions because he no longer has muscles or skin or whatever in the way

Also I firmly believe Usopp listens & dances to anything made by Spice, Mr. Killa, and Yung Bredda, but he refuses to let the crew know this. He's not embarrassed or anything he's just fairly sure Sanji would have a heart attack and die if he heard the lyrics

Sanji listens & dances to Rodrigo y Gabriela he's in love with their story

Zoro is one of those freaks who has no desire to listen to music at all but he won't turn it off if it's on, yk?

As made obvious above I think Usopp and Sanji are the 1st and 2nd most versatile dancers, but neither of them dance more Often than Franky

If i had to rank them based on how often/readily they will dance its....in the order I placed the pictures, with chopper between brook and nami. Luffy is only so low cause he'd usually rather be eating, and brook cause he'd rather be playing, and zoro cause he'd rather be drinking/napping

Robin will readily dance with you if you ask her but she's not going to initiate

If you love dance like i do and want to see some specific choreographers/dances i had in mind while drawing these, that will be the rest of this bullet list!

Sanji is doing Derek Hough's little solo bit from his pasodoble choreo on dancing with the stars. look it up it is so peak

Dancing with the star (chopper <3)

In my head Usopp is perfectly capable of dancing any choreography by Latrice Kabamba (west african steps), Tricia Miranda (dancehall), or Yeifren Mata (mostly male solo salsa)

For Franky I think some old way choreos by Nastya Batrachenko or Dashaun Wesley (he mostly does fem now but he has good old way stuff) r good

#my art #dancing HCs #they're all transgender if you didnt notice btw <3 #wano is such a clear and intentional allegory for isreal/palestine and zoro's family came from there. he has some brown in him i stg!!!#i know oda said Brook was from austria but oda is wrong <3 brook told me so himself in a dream i prommy #sanji is apparently french. his birth parents are clearly german royalty. his real father is irish. why is he french /hj #chopper is canadian ofc but he is also. a deer

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cricketpress · 2 years

Photo

Our poster design for this year’s...

Ballet Under the Stars

At this unique event, audiences experience a night of professional ballet, complete with stage, lighting and costumes in the unique setting of Woodland Park. This year’s preshow production will be A Night at the Circus featuring music form The Greatest Showman soundtrack.

Please bring lawn chairs or blankets for seating. Patrons may pack a picnic dinner or buy concessions onsite.

The Ballet Under the Stars preshow is a children's ballet and community ballet theater featuring young dancers from Lexington and surrounding counties.

Poster Details: 3 color screenprint 12″x18″ edition of 200 available at event

#art #illustration #design #ballet under the stars #sharehthelex #poster art #screenprint #printmaking #ballet #cricket press #summer events #woodland park

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redtsundere-writes · 2 months

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Jinx | Sukuna Ryomen

mma fighter!sukuna ryomen x femalecoach!reader

Part 4. Our Fight.

Beginning. ← Previous | Next →

Spynosis: Sukuna is a world champion with anger issues. It's believed by many that he is untrainable. Yeah, you can't train him, but you can dominate him. Contents: Fighting. Sukuna being Sukuna. female reader being dom. Jinx AU (the BL, not the character from lol) Warnings: Cursed words. Sexual harassment. Smut. Physical violence. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. MNDI. +18. Word count: 4692 words. A/N: Hello, peeps! Long time no see. I just bought my first PC, so I can finally write without slamming my old laptop for it to work. This is a long one, so enjoy!

There was something about eating a simple cup of noodles in a hotel room after a tiring day of training. It was somewhat special and comforting, like a mother singing a lullaby before taking a nap. That cozy feeling of surviving another day of training before a big fight. Yuuji settled the kettle and prepared the cup of noodles in the small kitchen area of our hotel room. We bought them in a nearby corner store when we took our break from Sukuna’s training.

We slurped our feelings away and let our bodies melt away with the hot broth. I sighed as my back laid fully in the cuck chair that every hotel room has for some reason. Yuuji ate his noodles like he hadn't eaten in days. Our bodies ache for all the training, but we could finally relax in the small room.

“He is going to fucking kill me one of these days,” I sighed before grabbing a mouthful of noodles.

“Same. I don’t know how I have been able to keep up all these years,” Yuuji said with a weak smile.

“Gojo told me you guys have trained since you were little, how was Sukuna back then?” I asked with curiosity, putting my feet up in the closest furniture piece to get more comfortable.

“He was a menace. He is still a menace,” Yuuji giggled. “Our parents were so tired of his ratty and chaotic behavior that they sent him to a pediatrician. She told our parents that they had to find an activity for him to get his energy out. They tried everything. Mountain biking, climbing, dancing. He ended up liking kickboxing.”

“Damn. I feel bad for your parents.”

I could imagine a small Sukuna trying all of those different activities. Riding a dirt bike and acing every trick he could learn, even if that meant breaking a bone or two in the process. Being one of those kids who wants to try the hardest path on the climbing wall but falls over and over trying to prove himself he can do it. A smile appeared on my face when I pictured him trying ballet in a cute pink tutu. That would be adorable.

“They are really proud of him. Except for that time when he slept with Choso’s fiancé, of course. Dad was really pissed at him, but Mom tried to defend him,” Yuuji remembered as if it was yesterday.

“Your brother is still single?” I asked curious, trying not to be too obvious.

“Yeah. He told me it was hard going back to dating when he has trust issues,” he answered. “Why do you ask?”

“No reason. Just curious,”

“Really? I thought you liked him.” I coughed out the noodles from the shock. Maybe I was too obvious. Yuuji looked at me in shock. “Oh shit, you really like him. I was just joking.” I blushed immediately. I outed myself, just like that.

“I mean… he is kinda cute,” I said as I fake like he wasn’t the big deal.

“Maybe I can set you up on a date with him one of these days. What do you think?” Yuuji asked me.

“If Choso is okay with that, that would be great,” I answered. I really didn’t want to bother him if he was still healing from his brother's betrayal.

The night rolled in Dubai. Little by little, the city was shutting down under the cloak of darkness with a vibrancy that rivaled the stars overhead. The skyline, a jagged silhouette against the ink-black sky, was a testament to human ingenuity and ambition. The air was balmy, the gentle breeze carrying the scent of the sea from the Persian Gulf, mingling with the exotic aromas of spices and perfumes that wafted from the open doorways of the bustling souks.

A ping on my phone woke me up in the middle of the dark room. I grabbed it weakly to check what it was. The white screen flashed my eyes for a second, blinding me. My eyes blinked a couple of times to get used to the light. It was a message from Sukuna who was responsible for waking me up.

Cocky Bastard: Come to my room.

I looked at the time on my phone. 2:31 am. “This bitch…” I thought as I sat on the edge of the bed and slid my slippers in while yawning. I put my hair up in a ponytail and grabbed a hoodie to cover the fact that I was in pajamas. I was getting out of the room when my phone pinged again.

Cocky Bastard: Now.

“It better be important, or I’ll fucking kill you,” I thought as I typed angrily an answer.

You: Omw.

The hotel halls were an embodiment of luxury and tradition, where polished floors and golden lantern lights welcomed me into a clear path to Sukuna’s room at the other end of the hall. Ornate lanterns cast intricate shadows on walls adorned with rich tapestries and art, bridging ancient and modern worlds. The air, perfumed with jasmine and sandalwood, carried the blend of traditional Arabic melodies and contemporary tunes, adding to the ambiance.

A slam on the door woke my body up in a survival instinct. The sound of clicking heels against the marble floors were coming right to me. A beautiful and hot woman in a stunning red dress walked angrily past me while mumbling something to herself in Arabic. She was fuming. I wanted to help her, but I don’t think we spoke the same language.

I got to the room and knocked on his door three times like a secret code. He yelled to get in from the other side, naturally, I followed his order. The elegant living room of the most expensive suite of the hotel welcomed me with open arms. I walked in to see Sukuna drinking some red wine in the hotel’s comfy bathrobe.

“What the hell are you doing up at this time? You should be resting,” I scold him as I get to him. I tried to take the glass of wine out of his hands, but he pulled it away. Instead, he poured another glass for me.

“I’ll get straight to the point. I am a little bit desperate, you see,” Sukuna scoffed as he pushed the glass of wine to me without looking. “I have a luck ritual before every fight, I have to have satisfying sex before the fight to win.”

Oh, that's what it was… Was Sukuna really asking me to fuck with him? I was only his coach. I didn’t know he could see me with those eyes. Maybe he was really that desperate. The red wine was tempting me, I really needed alcohol in my system after hearing that.

“So you want to fuck with me?” I asked bluntly.

“‘Want’ is a strong word. If I wasn’t in this situation, I wouldn’t fuck you. You are not my type at all. I like petite girls I can easily break,” he scoffed. For some reason, that last comment made my blood boil. “It’s just to avoid my jinx. I won’t ask you to do it again.”

I was about to suggest hiring a prostitute, but I remembered we were in a very conservative country. There were very strict laws against prostitution, so looking for one would be an impossible task.

“Fine, I’ll do it,” I said as I grabbed the glass and stirred it to oxygen the maroon liquid.

“That’s all the convincing I need to do?” He asked, a bit surprised.

“At least that way, you won’t fuck another person’s fiancé.” Sukuna laughed, clearly offended.

“Yuuji told you?… That bastard.” He smirked, not believing his little brother would tell on him with his own coach.

“Yuuji told me about your jinx, so I believe you,” I said before gulping down the wine in one shot. “Since this is a one time thing, let’s get this done then.” I said before pushing him by the chest, cornering him back against the counter to kiss him.

Our lips collided into a frenetic dance to show each other who was really in control. We tilt our heads to deepen the kiss and reach for our tongues. He bit my lower lip to pull me closer to his face. His hand reached for my scalp to pull my head closer by my hair. My sneaky fingers snaked around his neck and shoulders to grab the back of his pink hair to make him behave. We were two wild dogs whose owners were pulling on their leashes to control them.

His big hands wrapped my waist to turn the tables. Sukuna pulled me up to make me sit on the cold kitchen counter. I grabbed him by the robe to keep him in place. Kissing Sukuna was like surviving in a thunderstorm. It was fierce and strong, but oddly warm once you get to the coldness. He grabbed me by my ass to pull my pelvis to his crotch. He was too damn good at this for his own good. I could feel my panties getting wet.

“I didn’t know you were such a slut,” he moaned against my lips. I pulled away to slap him across his face. He smirked, surprised by the sudden act of violence.

“I am sorry, did that hurt?” I asked in a fake innocent voice.

“Oh… you’ll fucking regret that,” Sukuna spat as he tossed me over his shoulder and spanked my ass. I squealed and covered it as I could with my hands. “I am sorry, did that hurt?” He imitated me. I scoffed in shame.

Sukuna took me to the sofa and tossed me in it. He quickly removed his bathrobe to expose himself to me. I took a quick scan of him. His fluffy pink hair was a mess with black hair poking underneath. His massive pecs were shaved and ready for tomorrow’s show. He had perfectly toned abs to die for, but what really surprised me was the star of tonight’s show, his massive thick cock. I was long and meaty, perfectly straight. With that cock, he could be a porn star. I couldn’t help but gulp with worried eyes.

“Don’t be scared, it doesn’t bite,” he said while stroking his already hard cock. “Quick. Take off your clothes,” he demanded.

“You are the one with the jinx, not me,” I barked, offended. “If you need to fuck me, show it.” He rolled his eyes and got close to me.

“You are such an annoying brat.”

He unzipped my hoodie, took off my shirt, slid down my shorts and ripped my underwear off me. Sukuna didn’t want to waste any time on a meaningless task. Once my whole body was exposed to him, he manhandled me to make me bend over the couch. He gripped my thighs hard to shove his monstrosity in one back shot. I gasped for air. It was too big. I opened my ass so it could fit better in me.

“Take your hands off there,” he spat as his hands grabbed both of my hands to put them behind my back. “I’ll have to teach you some fucking manners.”

That first thrust almost killed me. It was powerful and desperate. From the very beginning, he wanted to go all fucking in. I moaned every time he shoved his dick in my poor pussy, which wasn’t ready for a massacre. I opened my legs wider to give him better access. The slight pain was fading away with each thrust as my body was getting used to his stiff stick.

“You are going to fucking kill me… ‘kuna…” I moaned in despair as my breasts and ass cheeks bounced in perfect synchrony.

I was used to getting beat, punched and kicked, but this felt completely different. He was beating me to an addictive rhythm I could barely resist. The worst thing about it was that I didn’t want him to stop. His cock was hitting every inch of my intimacy so good that I just needed more. I felt full, but I could eat some dessert.

“Fuck, you are taking me better than that hoe I hired,” he groaned as his hips were hitting my ass in deep strokes.

“So, I wasn’t the first option…” I thought. I was a bit disappointed. I shouldn’t be. Sukuna was horrible enough to not want to fight another woman over him, but my competitive soul wasn’t happy with it. I knew I wasn’t a sexy bombshell, but I was pretty enough to be the first option. Shit, I was really offended.

“Turn around,” Sukuna ordered as he pulled out of me to put me in another position.

When I turned, he freed me from his grip. This was my opportunity. I pushed him to make him sit down on the wood coffee table. He was clearly in shock. If he wanted to avoid his jinx, it would be under my conditions. One of those conditions was making him understand I am the top dog and not a simple bitch he could hire on a Tuesday. I grabbed him by his chin and pulled his face towards me.

“Open wide,” I demanded.

“Why would I do that?” Sukuna argued with a smirk. I pulled his hair hard to make his chin face me.

“I said ‘Open wide’,” I repeated myself, forcing him to open his mouth.

I was starting to get tired of his whining and his bullshit. He needed to learn some fucking manners. If this was the way I had to do it, fine. I’ll do it in my own way. Sukuna tried to close his mouth, but he was going to behave, like it or not. I spit directly on his tongue and closed his jaw.

“That wasn’t that hard, wasn’t it?” I asked him with a smirk. I could see in his eyes that he wanted to be offended by it, but he low-key liked it.

My hands pushed him so he could lay down against the coffee table. He tried to fight me to regain control, but I grabbed him by the wrists and pulled him further back so he could stay still.

“Just fucking relax for once. I’ll do the dirty work from now on,” I whispered against his ear. My tongue flickered around his earlobe, just for the funsies. Sukuna retaliated and tried to fight me over, but when he saw that he was already under my claws, he stopped.

My hips humped against his crotch, and his cock twitched against my pussy in excitement. I slid his dick on me slowly and pushed it deep. He wasn’t just handsome and had a fantastic physique, his dick was perfect as well. It was big and thick, but it wasn’t scandalous enough to be scared of it. He was the perfect man, too bad he had a shitty personality. No one was really perfect.

My hips ride his cock without mercy. It felt like heaven and hell at the same time. His moans and grunts were a clear sign that I was doing a good job. I could feel he wanted to free himself to latch onto my body, but I was in charge tonight. I moved in slow circles, and he jerked his head back in satisfaction. He closed his eyes and his toes curled as I rode him like a real cowgirl. My breasts bounced, following the rhythm of my movements. Wet and squishy sounds with our moans filled the air, creating a perfect symphony of lust.

His dick was pushing and rubbing every part of my insides. It was raw and rough. I was desperately getting myself dumb fuck with the new toy I just borrowed. I never felt more tired and alive at the same time. I haven't felt this way in a pretty long time. I had to make the most of it. The coffee table was creaking with every hard bounce.

“F-Fuck… I am so close,” he moaned under his breath.

“Do you want to cum in me, baby?” I asked him in an innocent tone. He nodded in response. I smirked and made a full stop.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” He yelled at me with a slight blush on his cheeks.

“You need to ask for it nicely,” I asked. Sukuna frowned. “Say ‘Please, mommy. I want to cum.’” I got close to his face as if I was about to kiss him. “Just once, and I’ll let you cum all over this warm and slutty pussy,” I offered. Sukuna looked away. He was actually thinking of it. It was either saying the magic phrase or jinxing his own fight. I only saw an easy answer.

“Please, mommy… I want to cum…” He whispered while blushing intensely.

“I can’t hear you,” I said with a mischievous smile. Sukuna scoffed and bit his lower lip. He didn’t want to repeat himself.

“Please, mommy. I want to cum so bad,” he repeated, avoiding eye contact.

“Good boy,” I said before releasing his wrists. “Go crazy.”

He clasped his hands on my ass and made me ride him like I was just doing previously. He shook my hips up and down to ride him in a wilder rhythm, trying to compensate for the time we lost. The wood table was creaking and squeaking in pain. It didn’t take long for it to collapse, but that didn’t stop Sukuna. His hands continue bouncing my ass to his cock as he thrust against me.

“Just like that ‘Kuna…” I begged as I arched my back towards him. My nipples were rubbing against his pecs with each rough move. My legs were barely resisting. My eyes were tearing up from the power his cock held over me. He spanked me a couple of times as a celebration that he gained control over me. He pulled my hair to the side as he grunted to the rhythm of his hips.

“Sukuna!” I moaned as I drooled over his shoulder. The pressure and stiffness left so good inside of me. My tight pussy hugged his big cock every time he pushed it in. After a couple of wet strokes in, I felt it inside. His thick and warm milk inside of me. It was what I needed to reach the climax. His cum felt like that cup of noodles after training.

“Shit…” we both moaned as we relaxed our bodies.

I pulled slowly out of me and laid next to Sukuna on the broken coffee table. Our breathing and gasps filled the silence that always came with every climax. I came back to my senses after what happened. “I just fucked my trainee,” I thought as I closed my eyes, embarrassed. What have I done? I needed to go now. No one could find out.

“Where’s the bathroom?” I asked in a shy tone as I picked my clothes up from the floor. Sukuna pointed in the direction as he kept lying down on the table.

I ran to the bathroom and washed my face to fully wake up. I looked straight at my face in the mirror. The face of a slut. I gripped the zinc and sighed out loud. It was already done. I fucked him. It was a one time only thing. There was nothing I could do now.

“Just live with it,” I said before putting my clothes back on.

I exited the bathroom and looked for Sukuna to wish him a goodnight. I found him sleeping on the couch in just his bathrobe. “This dumbass will catch a cold,” I thought as I looked for something to cover him up.

I went to the fancy master bedroom to just grab a decorative blanket. I was just going to grab the blanket and go off, but something caught my eye. There was a Polaroid photo on top of his night stand. It was a cute picture of a little trio. Sukuna, Choso and Yuuji as kids at what appears to be a kickboxing tournament. They were wearing their cute sporty outfits and smiling as they showed their participation medals with pride. I knew he looked adorable.

Taking important photos everywhere is a habit only sensitive people have, like artists or musicians. I didn’t think Sukuna was the type of guy who kept memories like that.

Why did Sukuna carry something like this? I thought he hated his brothers. What made him act so cold towards them? I didn’t know, and I couldn't get answers. I didn’t care about the old Sukuna, I just needed the present Sukuna to behave. I placed back the picture where I found it and went back to the living room.

I placed the blanket on top of his massive body and moved around the cushions to make sure he would sleep well. His eyes shut, his chest going up and down from breathing and his fluffy messy hair was a delight to see. It was the first time I have seen him so relaxed. I wish I could see him more like this so he didn’t have to overwork himself.

“Why do you have to be an ass to everyone who cares about you?” I thought out loud.

The next day, under a starlit sky, the UFC Championship Night unfolded with electrifying intensity. The arena, alive with the roars of fans from across the globe who were watching live, set the stage for a night of unmatched athleticism and spirit. Fighters, embodying determination and skill, clashed in the octagon, their every move watched by an enraptured audience.

Between bouts, the energy never waned, as performances dazzled and discussions flourished among the diverse crowd. The main event, a pinnacle of strategy and strength, held spectators in a spell, culminating in a moment of pure triumph and emotion. As the night waned, the echoes of the event lingered, leaving behind memories of a spectacular evening where sport and spectacle had intertwined beautifully in Dubai.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the event that everyone was waiting for! Give it up for Sukuna “The King of the Ring” Ryomen!” The host welcomed him and his team to the big stage.

The Search by NF started playing as his anthem. His fans went crazy as he made his great appearance. He flexed his boxing skills with a couple of ghost jabs to warm up to the adrenaline rush of what being on the octagon meant. He looked focused and ready. I knew he was ready. I was confident he could beat Toji.

After last night, he ignored me the whole day. In the morning run, he avoided me. In the warm-up session, he didn’t even look at me. I didn’t know what I did wrong to deserve his cold treatment, but he followed the schedule I made, so I didn’t have any grounds to be mad at him. My legs could be weak, but my pride was strong.

After the medical and cheating check up by the referee, he got up on stage. Gojo, Nanami, Yuuji and I put ourselves by his designated corner, ready with our supplies for each round.

Toji and his staff made their own great entrance, and he got up to the octagon as well. The referee made them get close to recite the rules so they could bump gloves. After that, the real show was about to start.

“This is a no-blinking fight, everyone!” The commentator announced, and the public went crazy as the two strong fighters were about to clash. My palms started to get sweaty, and my eyes were focused only on him.

“Fight!” The referee announced, and they threw themselves at each other.

Punches, jabs and strikes cut the air in the tight space. Toji was the one who was building up his way to Sukuna’s space. He was conquering the fight little by little. Toji knew how strong Sukuna could be, he needed to take his time before he could kill him. After some minutes of teasing and a minute left on the timer, he went full beast mode on him. Sukuna wasn’t doing any offensive, he was just surviving being in the same cage as him. Gojo and Yuuji kept screaming incoherent instructions to him, but the public was so loud that Sukuna probably couldn’t hear him. Ten seconds on the clock and Toji connected a perfect jab to his ribs, taking air out of him.

The bell rang, and the referee separated them. Gojo, Yuuji and I quickly got inside the octagon to assist Sukuna for his next round.

“I thought you were in the winner’s team,” Toji yelled at me. I ignored him to get to Sukuna.

“You see what you have done? Are you trying to embarrass me?!” I yelled at Sukuna while Yuuji was showering him with water and put an ice pack on his ribs. My fighter looked at me with a frown. At least he wasn’t ignoring me now. “Now you are listening. You have to get closer. He has longer arms than you, he will rail you in boxing. Go for his legs, man!” I ordered, and he nodded, knowing I was right. “Make me proud, Sukuna.”

The next round started and Toji noticed the change in Sukuna’s attitude. He was wilder and straightforward than before, so he acted accordingly. They had three other rounds, but this was looking like the last one. Toji tried to connect a kick to Sukuna’s ribs, but his opponent took that opportunity to drop him to the ground. The audience stood up to get a better look at what was going on.

“Get it, Sukuna! Just like we practice!” I yelled at him with the highest pitch I could, so my voice would stand out.

Sukuna crawled and fought to get to Toji’s neck. “Is he going to do it?” I was shocked. He quickly got onto him to lock his opponent down against the mat with his legs around his neck and torso. Toji tried getting up, just like with Geto in his fight against Sukuna, but he wasn’t going to let him go so easily. Toji growled under his breath. He punched his sides, but Sukuna couldn’t give up. He latched his left leg on his right arm, causing Toji to turn around slowly.

“Oh my god…” I mumbled without losing eye contact with his physique.

“Is he…?” Gojo thought the same.

Sukuna made Toji turn on his belly. The black haired reached for his pink head, so he could only choke hold him in between his biceps. The euphoric screams from the audience kept getting louder as the fight got closer to the end. I saw Toji start to breathe with difficulty while his hands tried to loosen up Sukuna’s powerful grasp. He wasn’t going to let what happened in Las Vegas happen again.

After seconds of contemplating his options to win this, Toji noticed he had zero. It was over. He got him, so he tapped his arms three times to release him himself in defeat. The referee allowed it and Sukuna loosened up. The buzzer went off to indicate the fight was over, and the audience went wild.

“Did you see that?! I taught him how to do that!” I screamed in excitement to Yuuji who was as excited as I was to see his brother keeping his title.

Sukuna jumped over the fence to better hear the excitement of the public. The whole staff, the cameramen, and round girls entered the octagon to celebrate. The fighters got to the middle and the host announced Sukuna as the clear winner by technical knockout. Sukuna shook hands with Nanami, Gojo and Nanami in celebration.

“I knew you could do it,” I said, bear hugging him to piss him off.

To my surprise, he hugged me back. He was sweaty and clammy. His heart was rushing from adrenaline. His arms were trembling from exhaustion. I patted his back to show him my support. A smile appeared on my face when I realized that, for the first time, he was being sweet.

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marvelsswansong · 2 years

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Can I request a Steve x reader fic with their "six nuggets"

𝐬𝐢𝐱 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐧𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐬

☆ word count: 2.2K+ (it ran away from me!!!) ☆

tags: dad and husband!Steve x fem!reader, cool uncle!Eddie and cool aunt!Robin, domestic bliss, fluff with smidge of implied smut at the end, this made me feel so fucking soft anon ur a genius x

⚠️ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞.⚠️

Steve doesn't need an alarm clock to wake him up in the mornings anymore, he's found.

No, ever since marrying you and having six kids, at least one of them is bound to wake him up if he hasn't already risen for the day. Sometimes it's his oldest, Heather, pulling back the curtains and chastising him under her breath that her ballet practice starts in an hour and he's still in bed. Other times it's the twins - Scott and Cory - brown tussels of curly hair peeking from the side of the bed as they excitedly tug at his sleeves, reminding him that he's chaperoning their school trip for the day.

But today it's his youngest, five year old Dianna, crawling into the empty space next to him and gently patting his chest to wake him up.

"Daddy." she says, shaking him awake with her small hands. At the sound of his youngest child's voice Steve wakes up in an instant, fatigue dissipiating as he quickly sits up with a tired smile.

"Morning, sweetheart." Steve says, heart overflowing with adoration with the way his daughter then giggles, jumping into his embrace, her neatly pulled back hair tickling his bare neck. "Where's momma?" he questions, pulling back to admire how adorable she looks with a red ribbon tied into her hair.

"She's making breakfast and asked me to come get you." Dianna dutifully responds, proud at her accomplishment. It makes him sigh contentedly, pressing a chaste kiss to her forehead.

"And so you did. Let me get dressed and I'll meet you downstairs, okay?"

She nods fervently and nearly slips on the wooden floor with how fast she runs down the hallway in her fuzzy socks, making Steve yell out for her to slow down. Amused at the five year old's antics, he shakes his head sideways in resign whilst getting dressed for the day: argyle black socks, blue linen pants secured with a darkened belt, white polo shirt with collars tucked in to his waist.

When Steve finally trods down the staircase you're humming along to a song flowing from the radio, Dianna perched on the kitchen counter with Heather next to her brushing out her younger sister's hair. The twins are arguing about a soccer match on the couch whilst Colton - second oldest and star football player - is helping set the table whilst you cook. The only person he doesn't see is his second youngest, Madison, until he feels someone run into him at full speed and embrace his legs from below.

"Morning, dad!" Madison gleefully quips, ever so the morning person. Steve chuckles, ruffling his daughter's hair fondly.

"Morning, Mads. Did you get a good night's sleep?"

She nods eagerly, practically bouncing up and down on her heels.

"I did! I went to bed early because the auditions for the musical is today!"

Steve gasps in awe, patting his daughter's head tenderly before sitting down on a nearby chair.

"Is it? What's the musical?" he asks, letting out a soft groan when Madison excitedly clambers onto his lap, awkward elbows digging into his lap as she climbs him.

"Once Upon a Mattress!"

"She's been singing all the songs for about a week, pops. I can't believe you haven't noticed." Heather notes from the back, turning around briefly to address him. Steve chuckles, lightly bopping Madison's nose.

"Well princess, I'm positive that you're going to do so well. You're going to blow all their socks off."

The sound of the stove being turned off catches everyone's attention, in addition to you calling out to everyone that breakfast is ready. All the younger kids dash to the long wooden table, playfully pushing against each other and arguing over who gets to sit next to you and Steve, whilst Heather and Colton help you bring over the stack of food from the kitchen. Amongst the chaos of getting all the kids to settle down and quickly eat their food, you're left to give Steve a quick kiss on the lips, hurried but still sweet and loving.

"Morning, handsome." you tease, winking at him as you set down the last stack of waffles. He grins at you, wrinkle lines by his lips.

"Morning, beautiful."

"Ew, mom and dad just kissed in front of us!" one of the twins, Scott, yells out, scrunching his face. It elicits most of the younger kids to also frown in disgust and pout immaturely, commenting on how 'gross' it is to see you two kiss, whilst it only makes Colton roll his eyes and Heather to laugh out loud in amusement.

"Hush and eat your breakfast." you chastise your children, stabbing your fork into your plate of strawberries and pointing it towards them. "All of you have a very busy day today and I don't want anyone to be late."

Breakfast is quickly devoured over small talk of what everyone's up to - Heather's date with Angelina, Colton's upcoming SAT exam and college scouts attending his final game, the twins talking everyone's ears off over wanting to learn guitar like uncle Eddie - and the moment the clock strikes half past eight, there's a rush of bodies up and down the stairs as you place all the dirty dishes in the sink.

Steve is the one to zip up the twins' jackets and to tie Madison's shoelaces when a familiar vehicle shows up by the front porch, accompanied by an obnoxious honking.

"There's my favorite little rascals!" Eddie shouts from his van as the twins and Madison quickly scurry towards him, each of them hugging Eddie's waist and squeezing his body tightly. Eddie's grin is bright and wide, hands patting against the kids' backs, before he looks up.

"Steve. The better Harrington." Eddie says to Steve and you respectively, winking at you.

You laugh, leaning against the doorframe as Steve scowls and places a protective arm around your waist - but it's playful, and everyone knows he doesn't mean it.

"Thanks for agreeing to drive the kids today." you say, pulling the cardigan closer towards you as the autumn breeze rolls in.

"Nah, it's nothing. Anything for my favorite married couple."

"I'm going to pretend that I didn't hear that so Vickie and I don't get offended." Robin adds from the side, leaning against her car. "Is Dianna ready to go?" she questions, only for the young girl to come barreling out the door and slam herself against Robin's legs.

"Hi auntie Robin!"

"Hiya hun, look at you with your cool bumblee socks and everything." Robin coos, leaning down to be eye-level with the young girl. Steve frowns at that, looking back towards you.

"I thought you were driving her."

You shrug, stepping one step closer towards Steve.

"Well, since Heather will be out late with her date tonight, Colton can drive himself now and Eddie's taking Mads and the twins... I figured we could have a date night all to ourselves." you slowly explain, deft fingers brushing against his cheeks. "So I called Robin."

"You owe me, Harrington number one." Robin warns and then winks, pointing at Steve, before letting Dianna into the backseat and getting into the driver's seat herself.

Pressing a soft kiss onto Heather's forehead as she rushes out the door and giving Colton a firm hug as he dangles the keys to his own BMW, the once bustling Harrington household is plunged back into silence in a mere matter of minutes. Steve blinks slowly before closing the door behind him, a soft grin appearing on his face.

"You little vixen." he murmurs quietly, pinning you down on the couch as you let out a squeal of joy upon feeling your back hit the soft cushions. "Spontaneous date night with all the kids handled? How do you do it?"

His hair's falling over his eyes as he stares at you fondly, boyish smirk marking his pink lips.

"Hm... Can't take all the credit. Eddie and Robin stepping in helps, but I guess it also helps that I'm an awesome wife." you tease, trailing your fingers down his arms, tracing the faint outline of his upper muscles. The flickers of infatuation in his eyes still never fails to send a chill down your spine, stomach afloat with butterflies.

Steve's aged beautifully, too. Slight wrinkles on his calloused hands, faded smile lines adorning his cheekbones, grey hairs peeking in between brown ruffles of hair. His wedding ring is cool against your cheek when he leans down and presses his lips to yours, moulding his mouth against yours, elicting a soft moan from your mouth.

"God, you're so fucking beautiful." he growls, left hand digging into your hips, slipping underneath your sundress in one swoop. You bat at his arms, giggling.

"Says you, Stevie. You're just as gorgeous as the first day we met."

He hums, leaning forward close to enough to brush his nose against yours, eyes not leaving your lips.

"Hm, if only you from the 80's could hear you saying that now. Probably would have a heart attack and insist there's no way you would fall in love with, and I quote, the biggest douchebag of Hawkins High."

You roll your eyes at his comment.

"Please. I'd pay good money to see 'King' Harrington's reaction back then. Old you probably would have had an aneurysm at the mention of marrying me and having six kids."

He clicks his tongue in annoyance, raising his eyebrows.

"Old me would have an aneurysm but not out of disgust, babe. Old me still had a huge crush on you, so he'd probably be spiraling on the floor, giddy with happiness and shock."

Grabbing a fistful of his shirt, you bring him down for another kiss, this one more slow and tender. It's the kind of kiss that has any smart quips he's prepared to die in Steve's mouth, mind completely preoccupied with how good you taste - strawberry chapstick and leftover maple syrup from breakfast - as well as how warm and soft your pilant body feels underneath him.

"I love you, Steve Harrington. Thank you for giving me this life and our beautiful six kids." you breathe against his lips, stroking his cheeks.

"I should be the one thanking you, doll. Our six little nuggets wouldn't have been born without you doing all the hard work. All I did was... deposit a lil something at the beginning." he shrugs sheepishly, making you laugh and smack him in the chest lightly.

"Ugh, that's such a disgusting way of describing how conception works."

He hums, amused, before biting at your bare shoulder lovingly.

"Mm, but it's true, isn't it?"

He shifts to sit you on his lap, your legs wrapped around his waist as he sits upright.

"We're such a great team, baby. Each of our kids, they're... smart, kind, good-hearted, talented... They're the best parts of both of us combined." he trails off, eyes glazing over with happy tears which he quickly blinks away (you pretend not to notice). "God, I have no idea how we got so lucky."

You let the sentiment hang in the air for a bit, the awed expression on his face too sweet to wipe away quickly.

"You're such a sap, Steve. I fear for what you'll do on the day of Heather's graduation." you tease, making him groan, head falling forward into the crevice of your neck.

"Oh, don't remind me. Our little girl's going off to college in a month's time." he moans, devastated. It makes you laugh, the down trodden eyes and the 'kicked puppy' expression on his face as he mopes openly.

"She's 18, Stevie. She has a girlfriend, she's got her own car and a driver's license, her own debit account... Besides, New York isn't that far away." you try to reason with him, but he still pouts.

"Still. That's too far. I can't stand the thought of any of our nuggets being so far away from us." he groans into your skin. You tut, running your fingers through his hair whilst massaging his scalp just the way he likes.

"What shall we ever do then, dear husband... Colton's going to follow suit in less than a year, then it'll be Scott and Cory off together, then Madison and even Dianna in the future-"

His head shoots up at that, an unreadable look glazing over his eyes.

"You're right." he whispers, left arm coming up to tug at the sleeves of your sundress whilst his lips brush against your collarbone. "We gotta have more kids so we'll never be alone."

"Steve-"

His lips are already sucking on bare skin, wet lips marking his territory as you feel his hands travel lower.

"Steve, as much as I'm enjoying this, I put in a reservation for us at the spa uptown-"

"When is it?" he questions, not even looking up from where he's kissing you - right underneath your ear, dark spots already forming around your neck.

"I-in, fuck, half an hour." you manage to stumble out, already feeling pleasure rush in. He smirks at that, grabbing your thighs.

"Then we have plenty of time."

"C-can't, we'll be late-" you try to reason with him, but all protests die in your mouth when Steve stands back up and kisses you squarely on the mouth.

"I'll be quick. Promise."

He wasn't. And you two end up being 20 minutes late.

-> a/n: if you're wondering how I went about the kids - thought it'd be cute to have a neat 3 girls and 3 boys split, and I chose the names based on US data on most popular baby names of the 90s.

ngl i loved writing this and am tempted to expand it into a universe with blurbs/oneshots connecting all the stories: idk lmk if that sounds gucci

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington x fem!reader #stranger things #steve harrington #1k #2k

3K notes · View notes

byhees · 9 months

Text

romance tropes.

엔하이픈 ・ female reader + word count 3000 genre fluff varying au fake relationship childhood friends2lovers love at first sight roommates2lovers soulmates enemies2lovers opposites attract warnings not proof-read kissing skinship mention of darkness — more

a/n. blank

fake relationship trope | heeseung

starts with an intent of being a publicity stunt; it’s only meant to create media attention, and promote the release of a drama that you both are starring in.

wanting to make the whole scheme believable to the public, you both devote the highest degrees of effort into this.

wearing each others clothes out in public to ‘keep up with the agenda’; finding yourself wearing his shirts and hoodies far more often than your own.

meticulously planning ‘candid’ photos, and intentionally uploading them to your socials at around the same timestamp.

coming up with more ridiculous stories about your ‘relationship’, and laughing at how unbelievable, yet surprisingly believable, they sound.

calling each other late into the night, under the excuse of ‘fake-dating practise’; it’s not said, but neither of you wish for the conversation to end— you both are secretly enjoying one another’s company.

trying out flirtatious lines on one another, and feeling a light flutter of your heart, as though interpreting the words, which feel far too real, as actual flirting.

suddenly using pet names, like ‘baby’ and ‘love’, just because it feels natural to; gazes that feel like real love, without the need of forcing or pretending.

both subconsciously seeking the other’s hand, fingers interlinked, palm pressed against palm; the feeling of wanting to do this for a lifetime, to capture the snugness and warmth of this moment in time.

after a reminder of it being fake, you both are brought into a state of uncertainty of when, or rather how, the line between your careers and your hearts, blurred into nothingness.

“you didn’t stop me when i kissed you…”

“that’s because i didn't want you to stop.”

childhood friends to lovers trope | jongseong

him leaving a mark on nearly every memory of your life; in photo albums, he’d be there, posed with a radiant smile. in notebooks, his doodles would be left unerased on the corners.

being the first to practically everything in one another’s childhood— first playdate, first trick-or-treating buddy, first photobooth experience.

inside jokes that only you two can understand; mentioning one of them in passing, and watching in pure adoration as the other tries to recollect memories, and has that lightbulb of realisation.

being comfortable to initiate casual affection with one another; hugging each other at random moments of the day, laying your head on the other’s lap, and even holding hands.

creating nicknames for one another, and using them despite the passing years; jokingly calling the other ‘babe’, and leaning into their embrace, eliciting confused brow furrows from surrounding friends.

playfully teasing the other and mentioning childhood experiences, sparking a sense of nostalgic remembrance in the air; jay initially finding your smile a gentle surge of serotonin, a sunbeam that’d grace his mornings, afternoons, and nights. now, he finds it heart fluttering, like a symphony of heartbeats— there’s a ballet of butterflies in his chest, and it feels different from before.

recreating childhood pictures together; going to the ice skating rink, and gauging if your skills have improved. him breaking your falls by offering himself as tribute, and feeling his heart thump at the sight of your face, in close proximity with his.

him holding onto every lighthearted “i love you”, replaying your words in his head, and wanting to hear them slip from your lips once more.

him using the secret language that you two created back in elementary school to write a love letter, pouring out all his feelings.

“there’s never been a day that i haven’t thought about you.”

love at first sight trope | jaeyun

accidentally bumping into the other whilst on a walk, books from the previous hour of library browsing tumbling onto the concrete ground; him scrambling to help pick the fallen paperbacks, hands inadvertently brushing against the other’s.

him taking a glance up at the owner of such a heavy stack of books, and being absolutely starstruck; time wavering, mind absolutely entranced by celestial visage in front of him— that is, you.

breath hitching in a symphony of awe, body frozen in the uncomfortable stance; the cramp forming in his legs being long forgotten, the thought of getting your name being more important than anything else in the world.

the mere locking of your gazes told him words; that’s the one.

he’s almost left second guessing himself; from not believing in phenomenons such as ‘love at first sight’ to experiencing it firsthand.

quick apologies and swift scurrying that don’t seem to process in his mind. his gaze lingering on your fading figure, wanting to absorb everything that’d just happened.

being unable to disregard the incident, head still rewinding images of you; hoping under the stars that’d fate would play its strings.

almost forgetting the radiance of your eyes, and the feeling of butterflies in his stomach, until that one day.

meeting again in the most unprecedented of ways, as though the world had just weaved your paths together, a response to his endless wishing; being united under the shelter of a solitary umbrella in the midst of a sudden downpour, laughter dancing like the falling raindrops.

making sure to get your name this time, not wanting the chance to slip away from his fingers again.

“i’ve never felt this way before, and truthfully it scares me. but, the idea of never trying scares me even more.”

roommates to lovers trope | sunghoon

him hesitantly opening his doors to you, after much conviction from a mutual friend; acquaintances would be the best word to describe your relationship.

being extremely awkward with one another, and hiding behind the comfort of your bedroom doors; the only interactions being short greetings of ‘good morning’ and trips out to the kitchen for a bite.

coincidentally cooking meals at the same time, and having to move around the other, bodies bending in strange directions to avoid the other.

trying not to hit anything, or bump into each other, when there’s a power outage; keeping arms fully outstretched as a distance radar, and keeping communications to short, panicked “sorry”s, and “found the circuit breaker”.

dividing errands amongst the two of you; small quibbles about who’s to take the least liked chores.

getting stuck in the bathroom, as a result of negligence to call a locksmith; the other sprinting to grab a screwdriver, silent hallway being filled with their nagging.

slowly starting to cook for one another, and coming up with excuses to avoid their confused questions.

having movie nights that start happening more frequently the more you two bond; him purposefully choosing a scary movie, because he likes to tease you for clinging onto him all night.

accidentally falling asleep on the couch together, and being flustered beyond words the next morning.

gradually asking to borrow one another’s belongings, like clothes, and realising how the other looks downright adorable in them.

getting worried when the other comes home too late at night, eyes glued on the front door, fingers floating above the call button, hesitant to contact them.

jealousy when you go on dates, and come home telling him all the details; pretending that he’s interested in those little things, and putting up a very straightforward front when responding.

finding it cute when you deliberately avoid him like the plague in the mornings, head constantly turned away from him to hide the redness of your face— perhaps his morning voice is a little too nice to listen to.

drunken confessions, where you go on a spiel on how “unbelievably pretty he looks, especially with his tousled bed hair”, how “your heart aches whenever he falls ill”, and of how much you “like him, more than a roommate, or a friend”; he takes care of you, mind whirling and heart pounding at the suddenness of it all.

pouring his morning cereal into a bowl, and nonchalantly saying “i like you too, yn”; perhaps you choked on your drink, eyes darting up to the glance at him. he’d have the smallest of smiles on his face, as though restraining the urge to giggle.

“i love you, i love you, i love you. and i’ll repeat it how ever much you’d like.”

soulmates trope | seonwoo

the world being draped in shades of black and white, every vista and wisp of existence cast in a monochromatic light; constantly feeling the missing piece of your life.

silently envying those who have cured the phenomenon of grayscale panorama, their arms interlinked sweetly, kisses planted on one another’s cheeks, faces seemingly flushed and pink from overflowing affection— there’s not much of a difference from your perspective anyways.

being desperate enough to scour the streets for your destined other-half, and feeling silly for thinking that the idea would work.

rushing to catch a bus one day, and accidentally bumping into another person, coffee pelting out of the little cup in hand; looking up in pure horror, mouth already opened in the preparation of an apology.

eyes meeting with the equally-as-mortified stranger, and time pausing in response; with the brushstroke of their gaze, the universe looks as though it’s painted anew.

colours flowing into shared reality, the once-muted world blooming with sheer iridescence; gasp slipping from your lips in realisation.

skies painted a shade of cerulean blue, emerald green radiating beneath the feet of surrounding passers-by; being able to see the reddish-pink hue of his lips, the raven blackness of his head of hair, the light blue shirt he’s wearing (though there’s a hazelnut brown stain from the coffee, near the center).

wanting to stay close with the other person, for fear that the ability to see colours might be robbed once again; completely forgetting the incident from earlier, and taking a seat by the nearby park to simply talk.

gradually getting to know the other person— their hobbies, their occupation or schooling major, and more importantly, their name.

establishing a friendship, and starting things out slow; being more comfortable with the other person with time.

him being able to initiate small forms of skinship, such as tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. him being able to be casual with you, often sending pictures and videos of his daily life, and lightly adding that he wishes you were here with him.

being more than happy to make time for one another, wanting to be in the other’s presence for ‘just’ a little longer.

taking care of the other when they’re sick, not hesitating to cancel scheduled plans, being ready to dart over to the nearest pharmacist for medicines; staying over to cater to the other’s sickly needs, and willingly sleeping on the floor next to the bed.

both of you naturally reaching out to hold the other’s hand, finding the action far more comforting that it actually is.

bonding over shared interests and reveling at how common your likes and dislikes are.

“if the multi-verse exists, then i hope that you’re my soulmate in every one of them.”

enemies to lovers trope | jungwon

the classic ‘competition to be the valedictorian of the year’ between the student council president and vice president.

being forced to work together for a project, and deliberately staying up till the late hours of the night to research heaps of information, hoping to out-shadow the other.

purposely going out of your ways to irritate the other person; it’s the small, petty inconveniences that throw you off the most.

banters that are short but potent; pretending that you two weren’t just arguing seconds ago, in front of other students and teachers, wanting to maintain the perfect image in front of their eyes.

comparing marks with the other after every assessment, even small tests that don’t count in the final grade; having the biggest grin after seeing that your score’s even half a percentage higher than his.

being paired together on a project once again, except he doesn’t exactly pull his weight, leaving his portion of the slides empty, to sparsely edited. you’re annoyed, or rather borderline enraged at the lack of participation, only to find out that he’s sick and overworked.

now, you take it upon yourself to take care of him, buying little vitamin bottles from convenience stores, reminding him to take his medications and drink water regularly— for the project, of course.

finding that you’re going out of your way to share your packed lunches with him, but still doing so anyways— ‘it’s for your overall credit score’, you tell yourself.

still caring for the other, even after the project’s been graded; subtly gazing over at his direction, and feeling a smile instantly tug at the corners of your lips when he frowns in a combination of disgust and confusion at your hard staring— great, he’s perfectly okay.

both of you being unable to sleep one night, mutually bored out of your minds; you’d be browsing the internet for some interesting slices of life, when an email notification would pop up; he’d spam your inbox with small, disconnected sentences, hoping that you’d respond and entertain his own state of bore.

somehow staying up most parts of the night emailing, unknowingly spending hours lightly bantering and teasing the other, smiles and giggles uninvitingly appearing every so often.

helping the other with academics, almost as though forgetting the intense rivalry in the air; video-calling one another and sharing opinions on an essay. additionally, giving study tips that are supposed to be top-secret and confidential.

buying the other snacks and little drinks because why not.

him finding you asleep on a table in the library, and draping his school jacket over your shoulders, not wanting you to freeze in the presence of a chilly air conditioner.

sitting beside you during your nap, and convincing himself that it’s to guard your personal belongings; after a mere glance at your sleepy face, his heart skips a beat, heartstrings unknowingly pulled on. he simply wants to stay there.

walking you home after late student council meetings; no matter the weather— it could be thunder-storming— he’d always walk alongside you, disguising his feelings for another lame excuse.

using old nicknames to address the other person, except this time, there’s a sprinkle of endearment lacing them.

being puzzled at how you’ve strayed away from your initial goals, mind now wholly focused on the other.

“why are you doing this to me?”

“doing what…?”

“making me like you. stop it, god damn it, i’m not supposed to— i’m supposed to not— this goes against every moral that i’ve ever set for myself..!”

opposites attract trope | riki

a metal guitarist and a classical violinist having to share the same practice room due to scheduling errors on the school’s part; to sum it up, it’s not great.

the mixture of riffs, which crackle like lightning, and notes, that shimmer like stardust, don’t go well together— similar to how you both don’t get along well (or at least, that’s what you two thought).

with one being an absolute bookworm, and the other pursuing basketball as a beloved hobby, interests clash; it doesn’t seem like there’s a common standing ground for you both to relate to.

going to the library one day, and being in a quiet sanctum of the place, standing before a towering bookshelf; eyes solely fixed on that one paperback at the top of the shelf, the words on the cover calling out alluringly.

tiptoeing in an attempt to decrease the height disadvantage, fingers reaching out and barely brushing against the hard spine of the book.

him coincidentally strolling in with the intent of finding a friend, only to see you by the edge of the library; noticing, and going over to offer his help.

after coalescing his intentions into words, he reaches up and grabs the book of interest, narrowly preventing you from yanking at the very foundation of the wooden shelf.

briefly explaining the meanings behind the paper and ink of the book after spotting the furrow of his brows, and the brief turn of the paperback.

standing against the shelves, and flipping through the book, rippling the silence of the air at that particular corner with the flutter of pages; inadvertently giving him a form of motivation and inspiration, like a fresh look into his music.

going back to the practice room, and sitting on the polished wooden floor to continue the flip through; he can’t quite tell if he’s more interested in the knowledge-filled content, or if he’s more intrigued by the constant flipping of his stomach and the racing of his heart, at the sight of ethereal grace in front of him.

him looking forward to attending practice, because he genuinely wants to hear more about these book anecdotes and undermined poetry.

him being keen to know more about you; your favourite foods, your go-to ice cream flavours, your hobbies, vice versa.

bringing a bottle of your favourite drink the next practise session, and leaving it at your designated area; not forgetting to stick his sticky note on the table surface, the words ‘good morning’, and the doodles, being greeted by the morning rays seeping through the windows.

exchanging contact informations, and smiling a little too hard whenever you both text one another.

him developing a habit of patting your head, or ruffling your hair; finding it really cute whenever you tiptoe, and stretch your arm outwards to give him a pat back, standing victoriously afterwards.

buying you a cute stuffed animal for valentine’s day, and being a tad bit too embarrassed to admit that it’s out of genuine love; using lunch period to try out boxed chocolates together.

cheering one another before an important musical performance; tight hugs, gentle hair strokes, light shoulder squeezes and reassuring smiles.

finding it ironic how your differences became the very threads that stitched you both together; perhaps it’s possible for there to be a portrait of harmony amidst a canvas of diversity— you two simply just compliment and complete one another.

“i know i say this a lot, but i really do adore you.”

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