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#marriage au
etfrin · 6 months
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NSFW
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mean husband!Regulus Black who swears that every time he spills his cum into you, it's just his duty as a Lord so you can give him his pureblood heir. It's not because of how cute the dress looked on you and it would look even cuter on you when you're pregnant.
mean husband!Regulus Black who gets hard when you smile at him so prettily and wants to wreck you whenever you insult him ten times worse than he does. you're not afraid of him, he loves that. Thrives on the fact that he can make your bratty mouth drool with his fingers and tongue only.
mean husband!Regulus Black who loves you, truly loves you but won't ever admit it out loud unless you're unconscious from a heavy session of getting bred and he kisses your forehead, oh so gently, and whispers, "My darling, my love." He kisses your cheek, "Oh, how you have my heart, sweet." He is unaware of the fact that sometimes you're aware and that you hear his words and it just makes you fall harder for him every time.
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dersacerj · 6 months
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renegades
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lijojo · 9 months
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love is in the details.
after years of being married and living together, you two have settled into a little routine. what’s the little moments that make your life special?
genshin characters x reader 
brushing each other’s hair in the morning
early in the morning, regardless of whether either of you have to go out or not, you help brush each other’s hair. if you’re in a rush, he’s groggily following you into the kitchen, hairbrush in hand. you’ll be sitting there eating breakfast while he’s standing behind you trying to manage your bedhead.
his touch is gentle, loving as he files through your strands. if you have a specific hair routine in the morning, he’ll do that for you. rubbing your favorite hair oil in his hands, he’ll gingerly comb it through your hair, massaging your scalp in the process.
and you’ll brush through his hair and try to micromanage the little tufts that stick out. when you’re finished, he’ll turn around to give you the softest kiss on the forehead and say “thank you, love.”
when you two know neither of you are going out for the rest of the day, you’ll pull out your collection of flowery clips you saw the other day at the market and tie his hair up in multiple silly little ponytails decorated with butterflies.
even if he doesn’t like it, he’ll never tell you. not when you look so happy, content with making a mini ponytail that made him look akin to a unicorn. instead, he’ll sit still and look pretty, watching through the mirror’s reflection as you clip his hair back with a giggle. his eyes will soften, like you’re the most precious thing. 
kaeya, kazuha, diluc, zhongli, baizhu, albedo, alhaitham, xiao
 brushing your teeth together
it doesn’t seem like a big thing, but you two make it a point to never brush your teeth without the other. not if you can help it, at least. when one of you gets out of bed before the other, whether it’s because you have something you need to do or you’re making breakfast, the other will quickly follow suit. 
when your eyes accidentally meet each other’s in the mirror, he’ll raise his hand to ruffle through your hair. and depending on his mood, he might put you into playful headlock, not letting go until you squeeze the fat at his waist. 
sometimes while you’re doing other things, he’ll come from to tug at your wrist, signaling that he needs to brush his teeth after eating something sweet. he won’t say anything, but the two of you have quickly reached a silent understanding. 
and if he’s feeling a little bit annoying that day, he’ll press a messy kiss on your cheek. you’ll groan as you clean the toothpaste off your face but he’ll just smile smirk cheekily at you as he tries to dodge your own kisses. 
in the midst of your scuffle, if toothpaste lands on your shirt you’ll point at it and laugh together. 
some days, when you’re sad, you find it hard to keep up with personal hygiene. there are days where it feels too hard to get out of bed and take care of yourself, but he’s always there to make self-care seem just a bit easier. 
childe, thoma, tighnari, scaramouche, kaveh, ayato, gorou, alhaitham
singing songs in the kitchen
when you two are cooking, the two of you will sing together. it’s not some loud thing. if one of you has a song stuck in your head, you’ll hum it in harmony as you fry the eggs. 
occasionally, you two will break out in full-on concerts. you’ll pretend that the spatula is your microphone as you preform a grammy-winning duet. as you wait for the pot the boil, you’ll dance as if you’re on stage in front of thousands. 
as time passes, you guys end up leaving a notepad and pen somewhere in the corner. while you’re cooking, baking, or simply getting a snack from the fridge, if you have some kind of song/lyric idea you’ll messily scribble it down and be on your merry way. 
and so, you two probably have a couple albums worth of silly songs. sometimes you write it together, sometimes you’ll pass by and check to see if he added something new. sometimes the songs are about the new cooking recipe you’re trying out, sometimes it’s a sweet love song. 
either way, the two of you are jamming it out in the kitchen. whether the two of you are cutting vegetables or stirring the pot, you two are in harmony. 
venti, kaeya, kaveh, kazuha, cyno, childe, itto, thoma
playing little pranks 
when you least expect it, he’ll switch your rings. just to see if you’d noticed. he’ll give you at least a couple of hours (at most a day, but that’s only if you’re really busy) to notice. if you do, he just smiles cheekily and switches them back. if you don’t, he’ll pout and ask for a kiss to make up for it. 
when you’re feeling overworked and burnt out, he’ll walk into the room with a glass of water and some fruit. he’ll give you a kiss for good luck, nuzzling his nose into the crown of your hair and walk out swiftly as if he was never there. 
if you don’t look up fast enough to catch him before he’s out the room, you’ll miss the fact that he’s wearing your bra outside of his shirt and walking as if he was on a runway. when you do, you’re quick to act on it. you sprint out of the room with the biggest grin. by then, he’s heard your footsteps and is already on the run. when you catch him, you pepper him with hundreds of tiny little kisses.
“that’s what you get for taking my bra,” you say in-between giggles. 
he wraps his arms around your neck, peppering you with equally as many kisses. 
“i don’t think this is a very good punishment. i’m not supposed to like it,” he muses cheekily. 
when the two of you’ve calmed down, he’ll give you a final kiss goodbye before you return to work, recharged.
his little shenanigans might be distracting sometimes, but it’s because of him that you’ve learned the importance of stepping back and letting yourself breathe. 
venti, childe, kaveh, kaeya, itto, ayato
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bound-tosydney · 5 months
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Marriage AU : payment
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sorcerous-caress · 4 months
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Heyyy!! Could I request the companions taking care of a new baby + a toddler while their partner recovers?
Taking care of the kids while you recover
[Fluff, marriage, raising kids, nb!reader]
[Astarion, Wyll, Gale]
I'm not feeling the best rn so I did just three, i hope you enjoy anon.
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Astarion
Seeing that this is your second baby together, he feels less out of his element now. He is more confident in his ability to care for this little bundle of joy with pointy ears cradled in his arms.
He almost doesn't recognise his own self these days. When did his sharp edges grow so soft? When did he become so tender, and when did his eyes become so round and happy?
When you proposed to him that day in the underdark, when you presented him with a modest ring that made him go speechless. He has seen many more glamorous ones, much more expensive ones, but somehow, this simple band with the most precious gem completely took his breath away.
That's how he ended here on this cozy couch with a silver haired toddler running around enthusiastically. Astarion calls them over to gently wipe some crumbs from their face, looking at their innocent adoring eyes.
They had your eyes, he couldn't help but squeeze their adorable cheeks and give them a kiss on the forehead like any dotting father would.
Him, a doting parent? That idea would've made him choke with laughter some years ago.
The ring glimers on his finger as he holds the newborn baby closer to his chest, humming a soothing melody in elvish for his second child. The first stared at him from the side with a pout.
His child was so obvious with their emotions that Astarion couldn't help but chuckle, "Jealously isn't a good look darling, come here." With that, he had another kid cuddling up to him and demanding a lullaby too.
Astarion obliged, relieved that his presence seemed enough for his children at the moment while you were recovering. Part of him was anxious about what if they only wanted you? What if they weren't as attached to him as he thought?
He was never happier to be proven wrong in his life.
Wyll
The sun shines brightly through the thin white curtains in the kitchen. Wyll is mixing together a baby formula on the counter, measuring the right amount on the spoon as he scoops away the extra powder from the top.
Adding the powder into the baby bottle, he gently shakes the warm bottle. The sound of light footsteps approach him in a failed attempt of stealth as a toy wooden sword is pressed against the back of his legs.
"Surrender!" A high voice calls from behind him, his very own kid with determination in their eyes as they press the dull edge of the sword more against Wyll's pants.
"Oh noble hero, may I know what crime am i being accused of before I surrender?" Wyll plays along, a smile painting his lips.
"The crime of!!" His child starts with confidence, "of...." trailing into uncertainty as their grip on the sword falters.
Wyll is patient as he lets them have the time to gather their thought. cleaning and wiping the counter down.
"Of not giving me food!"
"Didn't you just eat your breakfast after stealing my breakfast?" Wyll scooped up his child up in his arm, holding him with one hand while carrying the bottle with the other. His kid kicked their feet in the air as they dropped the wooden sword.
"But dad!! That was hours ago, I'm hungry."
"I clearly recall it being minutes ago."
Moving to the living room where his youngest laid peacefully sleeping in their small rocking bed, Wyll let go of his hold just as he sat on the couch.
Climbing into his lap, the most adorable brown puppy eyes looked up at him. "I want pancakes please" stretching on the end of the word, his kid whined.
With a defeated smile, Wyll agreed to it. Knowing you'd scold him for spoiling the kids too much if you were here right now, still he was weak against them. Somehow, his own kids were more persuasive than any devil this warlock has ever encountered before.
Gale
"There you go, all dry and clean" he said as he started to put on the baby bear onesie back on the giggling infant in front of him, their small hands gripping on Gale's beard with surprising strength as he zipped them up.
Yet the discomfort barely mattered to the wizard, he happily let them play with his face as he admired how adorable they looked in the fluffy animal custom. Smiling and giving their belly a soft kiss to make them laugh even louder.
The loud crash from outside the room barely phased him either as he kept coddling the infant, calling them endearing names and cradling them in his arms. "Papa's here, no need to fret."
"MR.DEKARIOS!" Tara's screech followed shortly after, "your presence is required immediately!"
Still too busy entranced by how adorable his child was, Gale took slow steps out of the room, contouring harmless light tricks to impress his youngest.
The sight that met him was one that would've probably given his younger self a heart attack no doubt, the countless torn pages of books thrown around the floor, the spilled ink and the crumbled magical scrolls.
But as the years went by, he found himself mellowing out much more. Very few things phased him by now, especially with how ironic life tended to be. The fates must be snickering right now. to give him a kid with wild magic in their veins, brimming with sorcery from such a young age.
You usually kept them in line, Gale was too guilty of being an enbaler as you've put it. It's not his fault he thought his kid was the coolest person in all the realms.
"Books are for losers!" Ah, there they stood, his own flesh and blood. Amidst the chaos of papers and magic, a potted plant.
A talking potted plant.
"Did your magic surge again?" Gale could only feel amusement as he leaned down to pick up his child, making sure to hold it far away from his other child so they don't nibble on the leaves of their sibling.
It seemed like both his cat and his child prefered to continue their argument. "Why, I have never heard such nonsense before! Mr.Dekarios, would you please get your spawn in line." Tara, his beloved elegant tressym, was flying around him in an attempt to smack the plant with her soft paws.
With a giggling wobbling infant on his right arm and a potted plant polymorphed kid on his left, Gale effortlessly casted the necessary incantations to reverse the polymorph while avoiding Tara's claws.
A poof of sparkling light filled the room as a full toddler replaced the potted plant, Tara blinded by the light, crashed into them and they all stumbled down onto stacks of torn papers.
The three of them buried under the pile, only the fluffy bear onsie wearing emerged unharmed on top.
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mikrokcsmos · 1 year
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Chubby Bunny
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synopsis; in which your son steals the show, and hearts of thousands of people.
pairing; idol!jungkook, dad!jungkook x non idol!reader, mom!reader
genre; fluff, humor, established relationship, marriage au, dad au, PTD LA au
rating; PG-13
warnings; best dad jungkook will destroy your ovaries (along with best uncles as well)
w/c; 2,077
a/n; y’all writing this gave me so many feels, my heart is full. pls leave some love. like and reblog if u wanna see more <3 this is a repost from my old account.
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Your son, Hiro’s, favorite song was Permission to Dance. Especially since his father, Jungkook, taught the five year old how to do the chorus choreography, perfectly. Which was a pretty easy task to accomplish, considering Hiro also helped come up with that dance, albeit with a little direction from Hobi in the dance studio during group rehearsals. But mainly it was Hiro’s imagination. Cause let me tell ya, that kid loved to dance, just like his daddy.
Grinning fondly, you clapped your hands to the beat, watching your son dance with his daddy in front of the big floor to ceiling mirrors located in the rehearsal room for their upcoming concert in Las Vegas. It was so cute to watch Hiro with such a look of determination on his face, being just as serious about rehearsals as Jungkook. Wanting to hit every mark with an expert precision.
“You’re doing so good, baby!” You exclaimed enthusiastically, encouraging your son further.
“Thank you, mommy!” He replied without missing a beat.
“What about me?” Jungkook pouted at you in the mirror wanting some form of praise from you as well. Rolling your eyes fondly, you decided to humor the big man baby of yours.
“You’re doing exceptionally well, kookie. Just like you always do, honey. I’m so proud of you!” You feigned being lovesick, batting your lashes at your husband, smiling cheekily. He winked at you in response, accepting the praise, however fake, gratefully.
As they finished up practice for the day, you stood up from your seated position on the floor. Purposely dancing the wrong moves while walking towards your boys, knowing it’ll get a giggle out of your son. You were right. His father lifted him by surprise, throwing him up in the air to catch him. Hooking his arm underneath his son’s bum holding onto him tightly, Jungkook began dancing terribly along with you. All of you making silly faces in the mirror. Your son threw his head back against his father’s shoulder in a fit of laughter, his bunny toothed smile on full display, a direct replica of Jungkook’s current smile. His chubby cheeks making you want to pinch them, so you did, cause you’re mom and you’re allowed to do so whenever you want too. It’s common mom law.
After your little fit of laughter, your son let out a big yawn and rubbed his eyes, a sure sign he was ready for sleep. Perfect, the parents thought. Now he’ll crash for the night and be ready for the big day tomorrow. Day one of Las Vegas.
It was a beautiful day in Vegas, you thought. Sunglasses on your face, and one of Jungkook’s bucket hats on your head to help block the sun, you stretched your hands up in the air and took a deep breath. Letting it out, you put your arms back down and set them on your hips in a superwoman pose and looked out at the ginormous stadium around you that would be BTS’s venue for the concert tonight.
All the boys started to come on the stage to start rehearsal chatting animatedly to each other, so you started to walk back down the long catwalk towards them. Upon close inspection of the group you noticed that your son somehow convinced Yoongi to let him sit on his shoulders. Your son’s chubby thighs were on either side of the normally reserved rapper’s head. His hands settled next to his ears, holding on for dear life and smiling like crazy upon seeing you.
“HEY MOMMY!” He bounced excitedly, making the rapper’s eyes widen and clutch onto your son’s ankles tighter not wanting him to fall off and face the wrath of you and Jungkook. Especially Jungkook. He’s even more protective of Hiro than you, and that’s saying something. As a matter of fact you could see Jungkook’s line of vision go from you with a smile and a wave to a look of absolute terror once he noticed his son start to get excited while on the rapper’s shoulders. His entire body shifted towards the duo ready to jump in at anytime to catch his son incase he somehow did end up falling. Thankfully, it never came to that.
“Be careful baby, you don’t want to give your daddy a heart attack do you?” You asked playfully, shaking your finger at your son, smiling at him to let him know you weren’t serious. “And remember, you have to be more careful with Uncle Yoongi’s shoulder, yeah?” You stated the fact softly in your motherly voice.
“Right mommy. I’m sorry Uncle Yoongi.” Your son then leaned down to kiss the top of the rapper’s head, making his cheeks get a dusty pink color to them. All the members, including you, awed at the sweet gesture.
“No worries, kid.” He replied in typical Yoongi manner, but made sure to give your son a genuine smile to thank him for his apology.
The rest of the members came around Yoongi and your son to take turns ruffling his hair, each greeting you with a hug or high five before walking past you to the markers to start rehearsing. Jungkook being last in line, picked his son up off the rapper’s shoulders finally giving him some relief. Rolling his shoulders, Yoongi walked towards you and gave you his usual fist bump, you complied knowing full well he didn’t do hugs that often, and took his spot at his marker. Jungkook carefully set Hiro down on the floor. Kneeling down to his son’s height, he gave him a hug and a kiss on the forehead and quietly praised him for his good manners. Promising him some sweets later that you weren’t aware of. He never failed to spoil his son any chance he could get.
Jungkook straightened himself up as you stepped closer to them, wrapping his arms around your waist briefly, giving you a short but sweet kiss on the lips, which you happily returned with your hands splayed against his chest. He gave you one last forehead kiss, tapping the tip of your hat with his fingertip and playfully said, “nice hat.” before winking, and walked to his marker, joining the rest of the members. Time to begin.
There was only one song left in the set for their concert for tonight. Your son grinned knowingly, clapping his hands in delight and anticipation. Noise cancelling headphones adorned his head to be sure his ears were safe from the loud speakers that were all around you, you donning your own, having been watching from the side of the stage like you always do.
Jungkook started the song effortlessly, all the members joining in singing during their respective parts and choreography. Then it got to your son’s absolute favorite part, when he watches all the back up dancers join the members on stage to finish off the song in a huge flash mob. You had to be honest, it was your favorite part as well.
You should’ve known that your son was up to something, being the clever little one that he was. The way he kept fidgeting in your lap more than normal, a sure sign of his impending plan to escape your grasp. And he did, taking advantage of the fact that you always trusted him not to run off without permission. But not this time. This time it was his turn to shine like daddy.
He hopped off your lap in a flourish, swiftly pushing the headphones off his head and ran straight onto the stage with the backup dancers.
Your eyes widened considerably, hands flying to your mouth, covering your gasp of shock. All you could do was watch as your son, knowing the layout of the stage, and his dads foot paths, made a bee line towards Jungkook. He was left center stage down the catwalk with the rest of the members, gearing towards the final steps of your son’s favorite choreography. Not even noticing how his son just ran on with the back up dancers, nearly blending in perfectly in his matching outfit he wore like his father.
Popping out from behind the dancers, Hiro stood proudly next to his daddy and executed the dance with a precision that made Hobi wanna cry tears of joy. And you. And Jungkook, of course, who started laughing while still singing his lines and dancing. The entire stadium erupted into laughter, applause, and awe at the little mini me. All the phones being pulled out to catch the intimate moment between father and son that you know will be headline news for days, if not weeks, or months. Never doubt the power of ARMY.
Once the song was over, Jungkook swiftly picked his son up and held him tightly, one hand behind his head and the other under his bum. Crying silent tears of joy and love and straight pride for being the father to this perfect little human he was lucky enough to call his son. Purple balloons and confetti were falling all around them in waves.
Pulling away slightly to give Hiro a kiss on the cheek, Hiro wiped away his father’s tears with his little hands, making Jungkook smile softly at him in response. Jungkook brought the microphone up to his lips, chuckling into it slightly before speaking to the crowd.
“Everyone, I would like you to meet my son, Hiro.” Once again, the stadium erupted into applause, your son starting to get shy by all the praise, hiding his face in his father’s chest.
“Isn’t he such a great dancer?” Hobi chimed in his mic with pride, clapping for the little one exuberantly. The crowd clapping louder in response to the dancer’s words.
“Isn’t he so handsome, like me?” Jin, Mr. Worldwide handsome himself, stated. Winking at the camera that’s been following the members throughout the concert, projecting his image on the large screens. The audience once again erupting in shared wolf whistles and laughter alike.
“I think Hiro is more handsome, actually.” Your voice boomed across the stadium, you holding a mic that the staff gave you, still looking on from the sidelines of the stage. Smirking to yourself, with a wide grin.
Hearing your voice made all the members double over in laughter and scattered applause, nearly crying from laughing so hard. Minus Jin of course, who just cutely pouted towards the camera, once again being displayed on screen. Jungkook could only throw his head back in laughter, still holding onto his son, your son giving a little giggle of his own upon hearing your voice.
“Mommy!” Your son excitedly yelled into the mic being held by Jungkook, wriggling in his father’s hold, making him hold onto him tighter in response.
“Hey, baby.” You replied a second later, gazing adoringly at him.
“That would be my amazing wife, ladies and gents.” Jungkook stated with pride and a gleaming smile in your direction, locking eyes with you for a second and winking at you. You winked back at him, blowing a kiss and mouthing an ‘I love you’ at him.
He mouthed it back right away, turning to look at the crowd once again with a bunny tooth smile and signaled to Namjoon to close the show with his usual heartwarming speech for ARMY.
Hiro signaled he wanted to be put down to his father, which he did a little reluctantly, scared for the boy’s safety on the stage not wanting him to fall off, even though he knew he would never let that happen.
The five year old, in classic five year old behavior, began kicking the purple BTS themed balloons around the stage in glee. Picking up piles of confetti and throwing them over his head. Taehyung leaned down towards Hiro, and even let him throw it on his head willingly. Jimin and the other members mirroring V’s actions, wanting to make the boy equally as happy as he makes them on a daily basis.
Sighing to yourself in content, you crossed your arms over your chest and watched your entire family all become little kids in the span of two seconds. And, you thought lovingly, you wouldn’t want it any other way.
Pushing the headphones off your ears, you gently set them on the chair you were sitting on with Hiro earlier and immediately sprinted onto the stage, joining your family, and deciding it was your turn to turn into a little kid as well.
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slayagami · 1 year
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wedding day with izuku, katsuki, & shoto !
┊ ➶ 。˚ ° m.list ! ┊ ➶ 。˚ ° mha m.list ! ┊ ➶ 。˚ ° enjoy !
i. midoriya
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ִֶ𓂃⊹ ִֶָ izuku 100% could not sleep the night before
ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ would arrive to the venue with you extra early to help decorate and prepare
ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ his groomsmen were bakugo, todoroki, shinsou, and iida
ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ best man was def todoroki
ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ he got ready with his groomsmen, ranting anxiously to ida and shinsou, hoping that the wedding today would go to plan and be everything you wished for
ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ right before the ceremony, he stood tall and proud with his back towards you, hands fumbling as he waited for the reveal. you stood behind him, wedding dress shining under the natural sunlight and giving you an ethereal glow
ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ you patted his shoulder, giving him the 'ok' to turn around. nervously, he spun his body and locked eyes with yours, green orbs tracing your face that wore natural makeup, down to the beautiful dress you picked months prior after your engagement
ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ his eyes grew teary, hugging you tightly and crying into the crook of your neck. hands glided down your back, feeling the silky material, mumbling how gorgeous you looked and how lucky he was to be marrying you today
ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ your eyes watered, hugging your soon-to-be husband back and a hand to trace his fluffy locks. you kissed the side of his head, pulling him to look at you. your hand caressed his face, smiling stupidly in love
ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ izuku wore a dark green tuxedo. it was almost black in normal lighting, but once the sun engulfed his figure, the tuxedo shone in a marvelous dark green, almost emerald color that brought out his features. his broach on his chest was a pink carnation, and his pin to his tie was silver.
ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ he looked so handsome to you, your heart growing warm and in awe. your sweet boy, was finally going to be (officially) the love of your life. through thick and thin, hell and back, in sickness and in health, life and death. your last name was now going to be midoriya
ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ not far off, the groomsmen and bridesmaids watched from a distance, taking pictures and videos, bottom lips puckered out from the cute scene
ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ you both read your vows in secret, saving you both the tears from your conjoined family and friends in the room. with the say from the marriage officiant, you both shared your kiss as people cheered and cried, clapping to celebrate
ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ your first dance was to 'make you feel my love' by adele, you both singing to each other like you were the only ones in the room, crying softly in the lyrics
ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ ‘i could hold you for a million years, to make you feel my love’
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k. bakugo
ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ katsuki is the type to keep a calm face but be so fucking anxious on the inside
ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ constantly checks himself out in the mirror to make sure nothing is out of place, black suit hugging his broad shoulders and small waist nicely
ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ his groomsmen consists of kirishima as his best man (obviously), kaminari, and sero. maybe midoriya, if it was later in the years and he actually came to terms with him, but i don’t think he would go out of his way and ask
ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ he promised he wouldn’t cry, not wanting to be embarrassed in front of quite literally everyone.. but as soon as your song queued the moment you walked in, wedding dress enveloping you in a warm hug with a bright smile on your face, his eyes immediately glossed over
ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ of course, he’d try to blink them away and use this time that all eyes were on you to be rid of his water works.
ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ his voice was shaky saying the ‘i do’s, but nobody else could tell besides you. i mean, he is your husband (finally)
ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ kissing in front of the venue was the least of his worries, he could kiss you all day if he wanted, no matter who was looking. definitely held your waist tightly and pulled you to him, a passionate yet loving kiss being shared between the two of you
ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ your first dance was to ‘the only exception’ by paramore, one of the first intimate songs that played in the car at midnight after your date in high school, feeling a strong hold and connection to this song
ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ he held you close, swaying to the song with his face in your shoulder, humming softly along the words with you. tears slowly streamed from your face, while a huge and dorky smile was on his. though, he used your shoulder to cover it from his friends ad family, leaving it only for you to see
ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ you both had your fair share with love problems. you felt used by others and unappreciated, choosing that being alone was better than trying so hard at love when it never worked
ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ and bakugo’s young childhood never gave him the correct sense of love, only deprivation of it. he swore he didnt need to be loved, that he was all he needed
ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ until your second year at u.a. when you were paired for a class project, slowly falling into each other’s presence and being. until the trips to his house lasted long after the project, becoming familiar with his family
ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ you allowed yourself to try and be loved again, knowing full well that this would be katsuki’s first time, and might not know how he’d react in the long run. but loving him was too easy not to try
ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ he tried hard for you. never raising his voice, refusing to let you open any door, bringing you food when he cooked or leftovers he knew you loved. he’d walk you to school, and walk you home, 100% attentive.
ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ sure, some acts took longer than others, but you never pushed him to do those things. they were all his choice, his timing, when he was ready and wanted to do so
ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ your wedding cake was non-traditional, and you both opted for cake pop to pass around, putting one in each others mouth
ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ ‘you are the only exception’
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s. todoroki
ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ another ‘calm face, malfunctioning brain’ type of guy
ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ wore a plain white tuxedo, his undershirt a wine red. his flower combination on his chest being a red and white dahlia
ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ his groomsmen were midoriya, kirishima, iida, bakugo, and kaminari
ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ almost didn't invite his dad, though you persuaded him to let endeavor come anyways
ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ as you walked into the venue, his eyes never left yours. walking down the aisle make him smile warmly, sporadic heart calming down. it felt to him like you two were the only ones on the planet
ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ he held yours hands at the front, repeating back whatever the minister had said, thumbs running across your knuckles to calm your nerves
ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ a little.. a LOT embarrassed to kiss you in front of everyone, moving to stand in front of you and block the view (except from the bridesmaids and groomsmen)
ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ cheeks were flushed pink as you shared your vows in private, tears flowing down on your end. he held your ands lovingly and kissed your temple, reading his to you with a wobble in his voice
ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ your first dance was to ‘merry-go-round of life’ from howl’s moving castle. a movie you both favorited. the same movie from your first date where you both laid in the same bed watching from your room
ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ you two ball-room danced, smiling at each other like fools at the different music choice that held so much emotion and memories
ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ he refused to leave your side the whole night, holding your hands wherever you went and telling you (whispering) how much he loved you
ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ he reminded you how gorgeous you looked, eyes never leaving your figure in your dress. he was in complete awe, jokingly asking you to wear it everyday from now on
ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ your wedding bands were luxury diamonds custom made, a pink diamonds heart in the center with his silver band matching and complimenting yours (the inside was engraved with your marriage date)
ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ your wedding cake is a red velvet cake with white frosting, a cute mini-figure of the two of you at the top and faux flowers at the base
𓂃⊹ ִֶָ shoto dances with his mother in a mother-son dance
2K notes · View notes
sleep-drink · 8 months
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Marriage AU Wally
Here’s the one, the only, Wally Darling!
He certainly looked like this on the television show, didn’t he?
You could also call him Wallace but he probably wouldn’t answer. He doesn’t even remember a time before Welcome Home… Poor soul. What. A. Shame.
Just a little breakdown of the story thus far:
Dolores and Wallace Dorelaine married in 1973 after meeting and subsequently working on the Welcome Home Puppet Show, created by Wallace’s Brother Ronald. Wallace puppeteered for the main character Wally Darling, while Dolores helped to produce the show. Welcome Home was suddenly cancelled due to a studio fire that completely burnt the Playfellow Workshop along with the disappearance of Wallace and Ronald in the fire. No bodies were ever recovered of the two men.
Nearly a decade later Dolores settled into a quiet life where she never remarried, and believed Wallace and Ronald were still alive out there somewhere. Traumatized by the event her nights are filled with restless, vivid and nearly prophetic dreams, until one fateful day where she receives a phone call urging her to sell the lot that housed the rotting structure of the old playfellow workshop. After revisiting she is transported into the neighborhood of Welcome Home where she is transformed into a puppet and treated as though she has always been a neighbor. It’s a race against the clock to return to her world as her concept of time and her memories slowly fade. She must find a way to escape the technicolor neighborhood, as well as discover the truth of her missing husband.
312 notes · View notes
flowerwrites06 · 8 months
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l'amour de ma vie — myg
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L'AMOUR DE MA VIE | Love of my Life | Requested by anon.
Plot: Insecurities pile up in Yoongi's marriage after months of distance and neglect. Pairing: Pianist!Yoongi x Ballet Teacher!OC (Name: Kiku) Genre: Music & Ballet | Marriage on the Rocks Type: One-shot Rating: 18+ Word Count: 4.6k+ Warnings: marital insecurities, unintentional neglect, jealousy, mentions of divorce, mild mentions of injury from ballet, explicit sexual content (rough sex, unprotected sex, squirting). Author’s Note: new one-shot, friends! i really hope you enjoy this one, I loved writing it! be sure to let me know what you think!
REQUESTS ARE OPEN! Send your ideas in by August 1st before it closes!
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Yoongi was a serious man. Kiku knew this well in the years she knew him. Their marriage didn’t flourish like fresh romances with many kisses and open affection but quiet trust helped their relationship stand strong.
When the doors closed, Yoongi often made up for his silence with soft kisses on her skin, calloused finger pads running down her neck and sneaking in between her core until she soaked the sheets.
However, things changed as the concerts began to pile up. When they were touring together as equal performers, Yoongi was active in ensuring that she heard compliments whispered in her ear. That he stared her way when she was on stage and she would sneak a look back whenever able.
Now Kiku wasn’t an equal performer and Yoongi’s attention on her was. . .low. Though Kiku understood why. It was concert season. Of course. That’s the only reason.
Of course, Yoongi was active and his face brightened like stars when he performed but lost the light in his eyes when he looked at her. It was exhaustion. It must’ve been. He would tell her if something was wrong.
Tonight was the same as the previous nights for. . .how long had it been? Two months, maybe three. Yoongi thrilled the audience with his performance, fingers dancing over the ivory keys like they were an extension of his own digits. Like the music was the air he breathed, exuding out of him. Kiku found it deliciously mesmerizing.
The audience roared with applause as the performance ended.
Yoongi bowed to the crowd, roses thrown his way before he walked backstage. Sweat slick on his forehead, pearling at the jawline. His grin disappeared immediately when he reached here. Kiku felt the weight of the lost smile but she leaned in and kissed his cheek anyway to congratulate him.
Yoongi barely leaned into it and rushed to change his clothes.
It was just exhaustion. Just exhaustion. Nothing more.
***
Today turned for the better. At least Kiku hoped as Yoongi received his first free day away from practices or concerts so he can enjoy the Italian sights for a while. The day was beautiful indeed, sun blazing gold amongst the sandstone buildings and flowers beds at the cafes burst in vibrant colour.
Kiku even wore her favourite silk corset dress with a thin cardigan over top for the spring breeze. Her black waves reached down to the small of her back and her enthusiasm thrumming to excitement. She felt as if she was waiting for a first date.
Yoongi finally entered the living room, wearing a white shirt and trousers.
“Did you want to go out to a café today?” Kiku asked, her voice kept soft and sweet. “It’s a beautiful day.”
Yoongi barely looked her way. “I have a small meeting with the producer. He wants some changes to the later performances,” he said. His tone was rushed and serious. As always. Everytime he began thinking of work, that was his tone.
Kiku knew this and she told herself this the moment her heart started squeezing unbearably. “When will you be back? Maybe we can go later.”
“I’m not sure. You can go by yourself and enjoy,” Yoongi said before rushing out without waiting for a response.
Breathing through the aches in her chest, Kiku did pick herself up and enjoy Italy. It was concert season. It was concert season. Everything will be back to normal once they’re home. It’ll be fine.
***
France was the next destination. This time, Kiku was invited to a ballet studio in Paris to teach some classes and have a studio room of her own to practice if she needed. It kept her distracted. Italy emptied Kiku and even the plane ride to France was Yoongi discussing things with his producer, Minho while she sat alone in her corner.
The dance studio brought her full of life again, the golden vines consuming the marble building like a living organism. The varnished wood floors, silk shoes and flowing dresses that returned Kiku to past days. To. . .happier days, she thought with a pain inside her.
Kiku and Yoongi fell in love during a different France tour years ago. Kiku was a prima ballerina in her early twenties. Lovely and enchanting, they called her. Yoongi played all her songs for her, watching her every move as if catering to her own movements and not the choreography itself. There was an intimacy behind that cohesion, that connection that not even six years of marriage managed to create. Perhaps that was a bad thought to have. To romanticise the first year of love as opposed to the commitment they were in now.
She should be happier now. She was happy. Happy, yes.
Was Yoongi happy? Was he happy that he watched her perform? Was it okay that Kiku was no longer that prima ballerina? She was no longer quite as lovely or enchanting.
Kiku danced every now and then but after an injury, her doctor encouraged her not to do performances like she used to. Otherwise it may lead to permanent damage. Yoongi supported her through her strained muscles, helping her through her exercises and reassuring her. But perhaps Yoongi didn’t plan on needing to take care of her. Perhaps the thought of her never being that ballerina again dawned on him and he grew distant.
No, it was silly. Silly to think it so. They were happy. Happy. Happy.
***
Kiku made her way to the stadium where Yoongi had his practice and performance later in the night. She brought fresh food from a nearby café with a small spring in her step. Sweet notes of the piano echoed in her ears. Even the tonality and energy of the notes made her know that it was Yoongi. It gave her both this nostalgia and fresh nuance of something new, like a first kiss or a sneaky touch on the back of her hand.
Kiku smiled at the people backstage, placing the food on the table.
“This’ll be good for the newer performances,” she heard Minho say as they looked out to the stage.
Kiku followed their gaze and saw the new addition. The reason why Minho wanted to have so many meetings. A young ballerina was on the stage, dancing freely to the notes played by Yoongi.
Her grin was bright and energetic, understanding completely the importance of her performance carried out. Lovely and enchanting.
Kiku knew it was normal for pianists to do this. To have different performances showcase creativity and enthusiasm. But the sight of it felt like stones crushing her slowly. It was normal for this to happen, she told herself. Yet Kiku felt it deep in her heart, deep in her gut, this unbearable pain when the reality sank in.
Kiku didn’t belong to his world anymore.
She was a wife who tried to be part of his world but not in his world.
Perhaps Yoongi knew this and stayed silent to protect her feelings. He never liked confrontation. Or it just didn’t matter and he would get rid of her after the tour.
“It’s amazing, isn’t it?” Minho asked. “Back to his roots?”
Kiku attempted a smile as she always did. Attempting a smile. Maintaining an energy to make sure everyone else felt good. To make sure Yoongi felt good, without burden.
“I’m feeling a bit unwell,” Kiku said. “I’ll be going home.”
“Don’t you want to wait until he finishes?” Minho asked, confused. Kiku never left once she got to Yoongi’s practice, not even when she was sick.
How silly she was. Constantly leering at the edges of a place she didn’t belong to anymore. Trying to squeeze into a place in Yoongi’s heart that was probably getting smaller and smaller. He had no time for her. Kiku couldn’t force him.
Oh, the thought of it burned her eyes. Her stomach felt like it was singed.
Frustration pricked at her. “I’ll talk to him when he gets home.” She lied. He’ll be fine without me.
***
Yoongi adored having more performances linked to his piano pieces. While he enjoyed having his solo acts, it was nice to be in the background for a moment and allow for his music to be interconnected with dance or a story. The exhaustion and boredom that begun to linger in the past performances rejuvenated back into a sense of excitement. At least the final shows of the tour were something of energy and new light.
The ballerina bowed elegantly after the practice performance. Yoongi returned backstage with his heart pumping through his ribcages at asking Kiku whether she liked the new addition. She had grown a bit quiet towards the end of the Italy leg. Perhaps seeing some of her own art showcased on stage would bring her spirits up.
Except Kiku wasn’t there.
“Did Kiku not come yet?” Yoongi asked before gulping a bottle of water.
Minho, his producer, shrugged. “She said she felt unwell. But you have food.” He gestured to the apricot pastry, sandwich and coffee on the table.
Yoongi was used to having Kiku sit there with him as he ate or eat with him. Having the chair next to him empty felt cold and unwelcoming. She must’ve been really sick. “I can go early to check on her.”
Minho hummed. “I mean you can but it’d be safe to do another practice run.”
Yoongi stared at the empty chair for a while. Maybe she was asleep and he would only be disturbing. Besides, he had a few shows left. Might as well get it all out of the way.
***
Night already fell into a deep dark abyss by the time Yoongi was done with practice. He wanted to come back home in the afternoon but he got distracted at work. It was a habit of his, long rotting inside him yet hard to rip away. Moonlight painted their hotel room in a pale silver before Yoongi turned the light on for a splash of warm apricot light against the crème couches and opulent lamps.
“Kiku?” Yoongi asked.
There was no response for longer than Yoongi was comfortable.
But then Kiku walked through the bedroom door, wearing a soft cotton lace nightdress with her hair, a little messy from a nap. Her eyes were soft and glossed, her cheeks sweet and a little puffed. Kiku didn’t move from her spot, looking at him carefully.
A small part of Yoongi’s body had gotten prepared for her to walk to him and kiss him on the cheek. A more selfish part of him expected her to wait for him because she always did, even when she was sniffling from sickness. “You weren’t feeling well?”
Kiku stared at him, as if confused by Yoongi’s concern like it was foreign to her. Yoongi hadn’t seen that look on her face and something about it hurt her. “I’m feeling better,” she said softly.
“Is it your legs?” Yoongi asked, a little more careful this time.
Kiku still looked at him like that. Like Yoongi hadn’t spoken to her of such intimacy in a long time.
Well. . .he didn’t, did he? When was the last time Yoongi asked her if she ate well? Or slept well? Or even how she was? Yoongi tried his best to remember. He must’ve had asked her how she was this morning. Or kissed her. But he couldn’t remember. He couldn’t remember the last time he had any conversation with her.
“I’m alright, Yoongi,” Kiku said. “Get some rest, it’s okay.”
Yoongi wanted to argue that he could give her a massage or help her get better but Kiku already walked back into the room. Without a smile or a kiss. The air grew cold again and Yoongi worried that his habits may have touched a nerve too delicate for his own good.
***
“An extension?” Yoongi had a single finger tapping softly on a D note, not pressing it for sound but thinking as Minho announced that he wanted to have a few more weeks of shows. “The tour has already gone on for months. We all need rest.”
Minho hummed, waving his hand. “You can rest later. This’ll be good for your career.”
It would be. Especially with ballet studios from France wishing to administer their own ballerinas into the mix, it would be so good for his career. But a shadow loomed over him. Kiku’s distance wasn’t going unnoticed by Yoongi. She hadn’t been to any of his practices since that day and it had been a week already.
Kiku wasn’t sick anymore. Something else was wrong.
“Kiku and I’s anniversary is in two weeks. I don’t want to be busy in a concert during that time, we’ve never worked on anniversaries.” Yoongi shook his head. He remembered how she worked around her training schedules to ensure that their anniversary was always free. Something was already wrong and for Yoongi to break a tradition along with it was stupid.
“Well, Kiku can come along with you.” Minho smiled. “She can even train the ballerinas herself, she’s a qualified teacher. Spend your anniversary in Paris.”
Yoongi could try to get a free day during the tour again. He had a free day in Italy, which he used to have a work meeting. Maybe this time, they could explore France. “Alright, I’ll talk to her.”
***
Kiku was at a ballet studio, Yoongi was told. Not by Kiku but the hotel receptionist who was asked to send a message if Yoongi tried to look for her. Kiku always texted him directly if she wanted to communicate something but they’ve resorted to this now, he supposed. Yoongi made his way to the ballet studio, the smell of wood and perfume wafting in the air as he walked up the stairs to the top level practice area.
Kiku was there, wearing a flowy white skirt, transparent, crème with a black top. Her hair was open as she always kept it when practicing dances on her own. Even after the injury, her every move was precise, the pointe of her toes like an ethereal being and her form like a swan.
Yoongi remembered watching her all day. He had become so used to her presence, close to him like his own extension. After all this distance, he was once again the humble pianist watching a prima ballerina conjuring magic with her dance.
Dark, pretty eyes flickered to him then and Kiku stopped, her expression neutral again.
Yoongi tried to push down the squeeze in his chest. He wanted her to smile at him again, to rush to him and kiss him. But she stood there, distant and unmoving. “I—Minho wants to extend the tour.” He wanted to make a more personal introduction but the room turned cold so quickly, he couldn’t muster the right tender words.
Kiku stared at him, a twitch in her eye. So she was uncomfortable. “It’s alright. It’s good for your career.”
Now she was keeping her feelings hidden from him.
Hurt turned to a flash of frustration. “You weren’t at the practice.”
“I figured you didn’t need me hovering over you all the time,” Kiku said plainly.
“You’re my wife, I want you there.”
“Well, you haven’t exactly been doing a good job at showing it.”
Ah. His bad habit. Still rotting inside him and now it was rotting at the seams of his marriage. Kiku’s neutral expression flashed with truth now, making Yoongi wish she was hiding it again. It wasn’t anger. Not really. It was deep hurt and helplessness. “Kiku.” His voice was meek. It made him feel stupider that he realized it immediately yet too late.
The hurt solidified behind Kiku’s expression.
“I wasn’t doing it on purpose, I was—”
“Busy, I know. Believe me, it was the only word I’ve hinged on to. . .gain strength.” Kiku let out a long sigh, soft and weary and slow.
Yoongi knew it was to hide her voice shaking as her eyes turned glossier. He hated it. Hated that he was the reason. Hated that he didn’t even know it because he never felt he had to. Kiku always had herself put together, always a sturdy foundation. So much so that Yoongi grew too lax. Too careless. And now it was coming back to haunt him in the flesh.
“You can continue the tour without me,” Kiku said.
“No.”
“It’s stupid to cancel the tour on my accord. You’ve come this far.” She shook her head.
“I am not leaving you.” Yoongi’s voice raised a little, desperate and pleading. “Kiku. I wanted you to be with me, spend our anniversary in France.”
“I don’t want to be in France.” Kiku’s throat bobbed up and down. “It reminds me too much of what I’m not anymore. Of what I can’t be.”
“What do you mean?” Yoongi asked.
“I’m not the wonderful ballerina I used to be,” Kiku whispered. “People look straight through me and it never bothered me but now. . .you do too.”
Yoongi’s heart dropped. “Kiku, I never. . .I don’t care if you’re a ballerina or not, it doesn’t matter to me.”
“It doesn’t matter to you because you can always put a new one on stage.” Her voice cracked then, unable to hold herself together. “I can’t find some other person who will think I’m worth keeping.”
“I’m keeping you,” Yoongi argued. “I know I’ve been wrong to distance myself from you but that will never change the fact that you’re mine. And I’m yours. All of it, always.”
Kiku stayed silent, finally letting out a shaky sigh. It was that slightest glimpse of vulnerability that gave Yoongi hope. The wall wasn’t cement, it was a curtain still, giving him to room to walk closer so he could catch the faint waft of a tea and jasmine in her aura.
Yoongi held onto her fingers gently at first. He waited for her to slowly curl and clasp back, giving him another chance to walk even closer. His hand reached up her arm, cupping her cheeks and kissed her. A fire roared inside him, feeling her warm kiss back again. It had been too long. Feeling the soft strands of her hair through his fingers, the taste of her and her warmth pressed against him soared through him with sweetness.
Yoongi leaned Kiku against the barre, lifting her enough to rest against her back against the mirror. Yoongi kissed her neck, suckled on the softest part of her skin and bit into it. The slight ache on her skin awakened her nerves.
Kiku ran her fingers through his hair, tugged at the scalp to ground her to reality. That this wasn’t a dream but her own beloved husband, tasting her skin after so long. Her hips desperately rubbed against the bulge forming on his pants, the weight of her body already pressing down against the barre but she didn’t care.
Kiku snuck her hand in between them, rubbing his hardened bulge before unbuttoning his pants. Her fingers wrapped gently around his thick member, twitching against the soft skin of her palm. Her index traced up the angry vein, teasing the slick tip until he let out a moan against her collarbone.
Yoongi lifted to look at her. Kiku smiled and sucked his arousal off her index, keeping her dark lust-blown eyes fixed on him. Yoongi gripped onto her jaw, pushing her cheeks in until her lips protruded. He kissed her again, harder this time as he reached under her skirt and ripped her thin panties, the delicate cloth soaked in her own arousal.
Kiku laughed, drunk with lust as she grabbed onto Yoongis length and aimed it at her sodden cunt. Time showed in the way Kiku felt so snug. She let out a small shaky whimper as if Yoongi entered her for the first time. Kiku gripped onto the barre as Yoongi gently pushed through the tightness, letting her adjust to him again.
Kiku grazed her nails against the fabric of his shirt, yanking off the buttons so her fingertips could trace his skin. She let out a pleased sigh as his entire length sunk inside her, his body flush against hers until they were one.
“I love you,” Yoongi whispered.
Kiku let out a small whimper, forehead pressed against his as tears burned in her eyes. Both an overwhelming flash of love and pleasure soared through her deliciously. “I love you too.”
As the declaration left her sweet lips, Yoongi began to thrust into her. Slow at first, ensuring that she felt the tip of him at her cervix and every ridge inside her remembered him sliding out. She dripped with arousal, making the wooden barre glisten. Yoongis hips moved faster, pistoning in a pattern that maddened Kiku.
Yoongi pulled at the sleeves of her top, sneaking it down until her nipples popped from their covering. The cold air of the ballet studio made them erect. Yoongi leaned and wrapped his lips around one of them, lapping his tongue on the tip until he felt her clench around his cock.
Kiku threw her head back against the mirror before kissing his temple. Yoongi was patient in his attention, moving to her right nipple and giving it the same love. Such affection. His pace quickened as her pleasure began to swell to its limit.
Yoongi gripped onto the back of her thighs, locking her against the wall and pounding into her. Without mercy and with the most delicious desperation that forced a string of moans out of Kiku. Never had she felt so free to let out all the noises she wanted.
His thrusts got harsher, her wet cunt slammed over and over again until even the barre began to squeak under the pressure. Then he paused suddenly with a pant. Kiku let out a choked scream as Yoongi buried himself deep, shaping himself inside her and carrying her off the barre. Kiku spewed another whimper, muffled against his shirt.
Yoongi let out an excited breath as he placed her shaking feet on the floor. Turned Kiku around and had her face her flushed, tear-stained and pleased expression in the mirror. Her hair had turned dishevelled, the front strand matted to her forehead. Yoongi gently placed his fingers over her neck, nose buried in her hair, the lovely scent of jasmine and her sweet arousal suffusing the air. “You’re mine. My love.” He whispered.
Kiku smiled, swaying her hips before he started pushing himself in again. This time much easier, wet and welcoming. “I’m yours.” She caressed his sweat slick cheek. “Yours. All yours.”
Yoongi hummed, thrusting into her again. Deep and hard. Each thrust felt like a shake through her whole body, making the memory of him linger until she dreamt about it days later. “Am I yours?”
Kiku let out a soft chuckle. “You’re mine.” Another rough thrust had her nearly sobbing as it hit her sensitive spot. He still knew where it was.
Yoongi panted, using her noise to thrust in that same position. Kiku bent over against the barre with a whimper, her knees nearly buckling but still wanting more. “Does it feel good, baby?”
Kiku stammered a response as he fucked into her again, her lower belly felt full, ready to roll over the edge. Yoongi pistoned into her ensuring that the same spot touched again and again. “Feels good, baby, don’t stop.” She cried out.
Yoongi groaned, leaning in and sneaking one of his hands between her legs. His calloused fingers rubbed her clit as his own orgasm rushed to the edge. “I’m gonna cum.”
Kiku let out a trembling breath, gripping on his forearm as her lower belly. Begging to release. “Cum inside me.” She turned her head and kissed his cheek. Then the coil sprung. Spurts of sweet nectar had her whimpering, a light choked scream as a light gush splashed on the floor.
Yoongi panted as his orgasm burst into madness, thick and warm as it filled Kiku’s womb. Messy and beautiful. Their thighs slick with the most wonderful arousal as he held his love in his hands, most of her weight rested on his grip as she trembled through her high. “Fuck, I missed you.”
Kiku chuckled, the tingles of ecstasy flooding through her like a blind bliss. “I missed you too,” she whispered, touching his cheek again. “Don’t be away from me.”
“Never. Never again.” And Yoongi held to that promise just as he held her. He would never let this go again.
***
Minho never hid his disappointments when it came to him. Except Yoongi wasn’t quite the same as all his other rookie musicians, who would fall back in line once they saw the displeased purse of his lips. “It would’ve been good for your career. Your wife should understand that much, she’s done the same with her career.’
“Kiku made her career without sacrificing time in our marriage,” Yoongi said. “I should be held to that same standard.”
Minho hummed, raising his hands in defense. “I mean if that’s what you want.”
“You did want to go to Greece for another tour so if that’s in the cards.” Yoongi already expected the sudden brightness in Minho’s face. He didn’t like disappointment but he did like something to do. Perhaps preparing for a future tour in Greece would allow for Yoongi to spend more time with Kiku.
Minho clapped his hands. “Greece and a few more dates in Japan as well. Kiku’s home country, that could make her happy.” He waved his hands, smiling to himself as if he wasn’t just ready to have a tantrum a few minutes ago. “Enjoy your anniversary.”
Yoongi smiled, feeling a wave of relief that he was appeased. No more tour dates anytime soon. Which meant he could go home when the sun was high in the sky and he had comfort waiting for him at home.
***
They took a plane back to their apartment in Korea the next day. The familiar dark wood, ferns and home-grown lettuce were well-tended to by their friends while they were gone. Kiku recognized the smell was different after a few months. Sadness pricked at her but it was bittersweet, not all bad. She was home again.
Kiku and Yoongi made dinner together to revive the smell of home. Warm rice soup, spinach salad, fresh steamed rice and spiced mapo tofu to fill their bellies.
“I’m thinking of opening a ballet studio,” Kiku said.
Yoongi’s brows raised mid-chew. “You want to teach?”
Kiku nodded with a smile. “I still want to dance and the doctor said just not to do performances. So teaching.”
“If you want a part-time piano player, I’m free.” Yoongi grinned.
“Without an interview?” Kiku frowned playfully. “My ballet studio would have more standards than that.”
“I mean I am sleeping with the owner, you could pull a few strings.” Yoongi shrugged.
Kiku’s lips parted in slight shock. “That’s highly inappropriate. You would have to show me your talents.”
As they put away the dishes for their lunch, Yoongi walked over to the grand piano perched on the space between the kitchen and living room. He reached out to his work bag and pulled out a few pieces of paper with hand-written music notes.
Yoongi played with the ease of breathing as he always did, except this music was the softest it had ever sounded. Delicate and sweet. Even the way his fingers moved on the keys were floating like a swan. A ballerina.
Kiku padded over to the piano, stood behind him and leaned her chin against his shoulder. She peered over the title and saw L’amour de me Vie. Love of my Life. Her heart burst with joy as she rested against the crook of his neck. “Who’s it about?”
Yoongi laughed, playing softer. “Depends, do I get the job?”
Kiku smiled and kissed his cheek. “Fine. You’re hired.”
“Then it’s you,” Yoongi said, smirking. It will always be you. 
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masterlist
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sugarspikesart · 6 months
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The sillies are getting married!
Jake the type of mf that's always looking at Sherry like: omg she's so pretty and cool....omg....
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httpisaoki · 3 days
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moon of tears, PROLOGUE
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you could remember the day that both of your parents called an engagement. It was a regular work day, you were 20 years old, called for dinner by your parents.
It was a regular day. Until it wasn’t. 
you could remember it all being too sudden, karina knew who you were, the daughter of the well-known mysterious moon dynasty. both of you never wanted any of it but your parents claimed it to be beneficial for you and her, suggesting for a marriage not out of love was insane for the both of you.  
being young, you wanted to focus on work and marry later, while karina wanted the right person before marrying— which made the both of you despise each other, you thought she was selfish, while she thought you had bad intentions.
in a way, it felt wrong. to both of you, but you felt inclined to agree with the arrangement. you wanted to put you studies and responsibilities first, but the pressure from your parents were overwhelming.
as you sat at the dinner table across from karina, your parents were talking and speaking. it was all arranged, everything was already decided even before the formal proposal. all that was missing was a yes from both of you.
all the while, karina sat there, her facial expression cold. she was the opposite of you, she refused to agree, to her, marriage was something that had to be with the right person. she didn't care about how beneficial the marriage would be for either of the families, she wanted it to be an arrangement based on love, not forced upon them.
you looked at each other across the table, her gaze boring into yours. there was something in both of your eyes, something you knew what it was. all it took was one of you speaking, one of you agreeing to stop this.
you stayed silent as she spoke, your eyes on her, she seemed to be serious with wanting to call off the whole wedding. the thought itself surprised you, you'd never expected her to want to back out, but deep inside of you, you wanted to.
karina didn’t know what she was saying, nor what she felt about the situation— the arranged marriage, the nagging of her parents, she didn’t know what to feel about it. through the hard glares she sent you, she wasn’t sure. She wanted a person who loved her, a marriage made out of love, not the desire for success.
She was curious, that was the word karina described the day her parents told her about the marriage. She wanted to know about you, and least to say what she found made her wonder. 
Was it really worth it? was your thoughts on that dreaded day, you still didn’t answer the question, and neither did she. but when the day had come, the both of you thought of hope, if this had worked out, who would know?
you watched her walking down the aisle with an expression that made karina wonder if you were actually calm about this. The truth is, you were nervous. For the first time since your childhood, you were anxious about something. You were always calm and nonchalant about everything. But what is it about her that made you so nervous?
There was nothing you could do, and it was obvious. As the priest proceeded to the vows, the both of you said words you never meant, but it somehow gave hope, even if you didn’t know each other personally— even if it was just arranged, it gave hope to the both of you.
The priest gave you a look, signaling the most difficult part of this whole event. “Will you, han junhi, take karina yu, as your lawfully wedded wife?”
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-> would you though? HDUIDSJ (i would)
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tn-pt · 28 days
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a request where tony and peter are married and spending their honeymoon in a relaxing private beach that tony may or may not rented. they fuck everywhere
Honeymoon fun on a private island 🏝️
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[NFF] Peter stared into the full-length mirror one last time to straighten his Iron Man-themed trunks, despite knowing that Tony would most likely rip them off the moment he stepped outside.
In any case, he had more on his mind: he still couldn't believe it—he was married to Tony Stark! What was even more unbelievable was how they were actually able to have a honeymoon.
Their fellow avengers had taken it upon themselves to cover for them as they went on a very much needed vacation alone. Of course, Tony did not waste this opportunity.
Peter had almost had a heart attack when Tony explained to him, very casually, why he wouldn't have to worry about paparazzi taking pictures of him in his swimsuit.
Then, when Peter was done choking on his water, he sat between Tony's thighs and thanked him in the best way—by choking on his dick instead.
Of course, their vacation included plenty of such things; after all, it was their honeymoon. And, well, Tony didn't need an excuse to fuck Peter till he sobbed, but having the place all to themselves triggered wild fantasies in his mind.
The first night they arrived, Tony gave Peter a bridal carry to the flowery bed in their room, which overlooked the beach. The lights were dimmed, and Tony laid him down like he would break and kissed him until he couldn't. Then, they enjoyed the slowest and most romantic sex of their entire relationship, showing the lifelong promises they made to each other with their bodies.
After that night, things got faster and rougher. Since Tony had effectively made the island their second home for the two weeks they could stay, he wanted them to get as comfortable as they do at home, if not more so as there was no one to interrupt them.
The bed was deemed unnecessary for sex. Tony took Peter wherever and whenever he wanted or was asked to: on the open balcony, on the beach, in the sea, in the bar—where a poor employee had to go out back till they were done and then had to act like they didn't hear anything—on the boat, in the back of a restaurant. You name it, it happened there.
The pair were completely obsessed with each other and absolutely shameless, and it made for incredible sex each time. Whether it was Peter on his knees or Tony between the boy's thighs, Peter hopping on Tony's dick, or Tony mounting his husband until he screamed his name, they tried every position they thought of.
The first time Tony had taken him on the beach, Peter was laid under the sun, clueless, taking in how amazing it felt on his skin. He had started to drift off before he felt Tony's fingers trail to his hips and tug his shorts down.
In the haze, Peter's mind got mixed up, and for a moment he thought they were back in their room or that he was dreaming, but when Tony took his dick in his hand, Peter found his body again and sprung up.
“Wha-” Tony laid him back down with a gentle push to his chest.
“Allow me,”
Tony had told him he'd fuck him on the beach, but Peter didn't think he'd actually go for it. He stuttered about them being outside and about the possibility of some crazy paparazzi who might be using a drone to watch them, but never went to stop Tony's hand. Each of his concerns was answered shortly and sarcastically as Tony touched him until he got hard and turned his mumbling into moans.
Peter started jerking his husband off as well, begging to have him inside as Tony spread him open with two fingers. And who was Tony to say no? He immediately found his usual spot between the boy's legs, spread him wide open under the sun, and took utmost pleasure in watching his husband squirm and try to hold himself back as if they weren't alone out there.
Following that encounter, Peter started asking for it more often than Tony anticipated. After a day of surfing together (or attempting to do so), he practically dragged his older husband to the jacuzzi placed at the back of their beach house and slowly stripped naked in front of him before laying in the tub. Tony gravitated to the pointed finger Peter gave him, and next thing you know, they were vigorously breeding right then and there as the water and bubbles splashed around them.
Peter didn't even try to be quiet this time. His moaning and begging, their skins clapping together, echoed into the night.
The other ‘incidents’ followed and that's how they spent their honeymoon.
Now, that they had left and returned to New York, Tony found himself in trouble; he didn't know how to convince his dick that he couldn't fuck Peter's brains out everywhere he wanted anymore. Peter would lean on the table in the Avengers' meeting to point at something, and Tony's dick would involuntarily get hard.
It wasn't only that; it happened when they had just finished beating the lights out of a villain and Peter was in his trademark pose, thighs spread. It happened when Peter moaned at how good the food was at some restaurant. It happened when they went for a run together in the park, and Peter's shorts were far above his knees. Tony couldn't control his dick, it reminded him of his twenties, except this time he had eyes just for his one and only.
And it's not like Peter didn't struggle either; he wanted to be bent over every surface and feel Tony pushing inside of him at every hour of the day. Every time he caught sight of Tony's bulge, he had to stop his knees from automatically bending.
The couple would suffer like this for a while until they got the courage to try and get it out of their systems with “exposure therapy” (that's not what that means, Tony) and fuck in the living room of the Avengers compound when everyone was out.
The possibility of getting caught was still there, and it was thrilling— until it actually happened (sorry, Steve), and it was traumatizing enough that Tony and Peter would settle for roleplay afterwards.
———————————————————————————————
Thanks for the request! I hope this was ok.
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dersacerj · 6 months
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🍅 🏡💍
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eddiediazloathing · 3 months
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*buck and Eddie on their way to pick up chris*
Buck, singing along to the radio: show me the meaning of being-
Eddie: why I should be your husband.
Buck: lonely!-
Eddie: exactly why I should be your husband...
Buck: OML IF YOU JUST WAIT FOUR GODAMN MONTHS I WILL BE YOUR HUSBAND, SO SHUT UP OR I WILL SHOW YOU THE MEANING OF BEING LONLEY.
Eddie: ... jeez only joking
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bound-tosydney · 9 days
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Welcome to the world, little ones!
We've all been waiting to meet you
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The first step is always the hardest
But we knew you could do it!
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You are always surprise us
We are proud of you!
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We'll always be by your side
Please don't forget this
" You are my blessing. "
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" I love you. "
-Another story : daddy's new cross
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mikrokcsmos · 1 year
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Beautiful Dreamer
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synopsis; in which you’re on your honeymoon, and though you should be enamored by the sights around you – you still believe that your husband is better.
pairing; husband!taehyung x wife!reader
genre; fluff, established relationship, marriage au, honeymoon au
rating; PG-13
warnings; a LOT of nuzzling
w/c; 979
a/n; he’s so dreamy.
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He leans sideways against the tall, thick wooden railing, right arm folded over on top, hand tucked into his armpit. The other arm’s elbow dangles over the edge, his chin resting on it’s left hand as he gazes dreamily at the scenery in front of him.
You take up the same position next to him, albeit your dreamy gaze is zeroed in on him instead.
“What are you thinking about, husband?” Your voice is light and airy, not too loud, but not too soft either. He closes his eyes briefly to allow it to wash over him, only putting him in an even deeper state of tranquility.
He hums, a soft smile blooming over his features. He keeps his eyes closed, answering you with another question.
“What do you think I’m thinking about, wife?”
You scoot closer to him on the railing, and without hesitation, he lifts his left arm up to allow you to tuck yourself into his side. He nuzzles the top of your head, nose nestled in your hair, the lavender honey scent he’s come to know and love overtakes his senses for a moment. His arm wraps loosely around your waist, hand coming to lay on your stomach.
You take his left hand in yours, fingers playing with the thick, gold band of his wedding ring that you had the pleasure of putting there only but a few days ago when you said ‘I do’.
“Would it be selfish of me to say that I want you to be thinking of me?”
He chuckles, the vibration that exudes from his chest you can feel through your back as it lightly jostles you with its intensity.
You tilt your head to look back up at him, small frown adorning your lips that he gives a chaste peck too, the curve of your lips now threatening to curl at the act.
“What’s so funny, pray tell?” Your brow quirks up, which upside down, makes you look silly. He gives your nose a soft nuzzle, voice lilting with a teasing tone.
“The fact that you believe I would even be thinking of anything else but you, my love. That is funny.”
A loud mother duck, who has her hands full trying to get all her ducklings in line and back into the water off to the side of the wooden deck, is what breaks you two out of your lovesick haze.
Leaning back against Taehyung, you both watch as one by one, the ducklings plop haphazardly back into the water. Each one squawks momentarily in fear of their head being beneath the water for too long, before the mother duck nuzzles them back upright.
Taehyung now looks at you, your expression akin to something of both longing and fear. His fingers tap against your stomach, his voice caressing your outer earlobe that causes goosebumps to erupt onto your skin.
“What’s troubling you, sweetheart?”
As he rubs your stomach, you can’t help the anxiety that slowly begins to build within you, nerves on edge of the insecurity that passes through your lips. It has his heart clenching.
“Do you think I’m gonna be a good mom?” He can feel the emotion you try your best to keep tucked within you, and kneeling down beside you, he gently turns you to face him, his head now perfectly aligned with your barely there baby bump.
His hands come up to cup your stomach gently, as if afraid the weight of his hands alone could harm the little life that’s growing day by day inside of you. Like he did with your nose earlier, he nuzzles your baby bump with his nose, before giving it a loving kiss and fixing his brown orbs back onto yours.
“Sweetheart, you’re going to be an amazing mom.” His smile is boxy and wide, eyes shining with excitement. Your eyes begin to water, lip trembling.
“You’re going to be an amazing father, Tae.”
His eyes get glossy, and the setting sun on the horizon only makes his features glow even brighter. The baby pink shirt he wears makes you envision a little girl running around his kneeling figure, pulling and tugging on said shirt with little pleas of wanting to be held and loved by her daddy.
“She is going to love you, and have her wrapped around her little finger, mark my words.”
He lets out a watery chuckle, sniffling and wiping his nose with the back of his hand, before standing back up. He places his hands on your hips, thumbs rubbing circles into your sides as he tilts his head at you in wonder.
“Oh, really? You believe it’s gonna be a girl?”
You nod, confident in your gut feeling.
“Well, if she’s anything like you–,” he starts, stepping closer to you to place kisses on each part of your face, you giggling the whole time. And as he kisses each part, he names them off one by one. “–your eyes, your nose, your cheeks, your dimples, your mouth.”
The lingering kiss he leaves you on your lips has you arching your back into him in order to get closer and deepen it. His hands slide up your body to caress each side of your neck as he stares into your eyes with nothing but love and promise.
His lips move, his words reaching the very depths of your soul to gently envelope and ease away any and all doubts or worries you might’ve had about being a mother.
“It’s not always easy growing a little life inside of you. The morning sickness. The hormones. The changes to your body. The sleeplessness. Yet, when it all gets too hard, just remember how powerful you really are. You are growing a life inside of you, and that is incredible. You are incredible.”
And, as always, he was right.
You do become an amazing mom.
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