He loves her like the moon loves the sun.
Religiously. Devoted, awaiting, lighting only because the sun shines.
Hidden from the world, he is. Only seen, because of her.
She’s stubborn, he thinks, but so is he. Truly, she was made for him. She laughs at his jokes – smiles for him every day. She won’t deal with his shit; she tells him Luciel, go shower, you smell like a barn- and he says Meow! Thank you my love! Won’t you join me? And she’ll say
“Only if you carry me.”
She’s light – smooth to the touch, soft to hold. Seven carries her everywhere, on his back, in his arms.
She’s goofy; he turns around more often than not, to see chopsticks up her nose. How fucking cute is she?
He loves her more than the moon loves the sun.
She accepts every part of him. Every pound of bad, every teaspoon of good. But she’ll argue no, Luciel, there are gallons. Gallons and gallons of good in you.
She dug her nails into his skin. Chipped away all of Seven, saw Saeyoung, and pulled out Luciel. Watched his smiles turn sour. Watched his smiles turn real.
So he’ll always love her more than the moon loves the sun. Because she encourages him in everything he does – lets him wear dresses to the grocery store. Holds his hand when he’s sad.
He asks her to marry him.
And when she says yes, he’s the one that cries.
“Luciel?” She pops in, hair up in that messy bun that just drives Seven crazy. “Luciel, are you awake?”
It’s four in the morning.
“The sun is coming up soon.” She leans up against the doorway, his tee-shirt falling down to her thighs. God, her thighs. They’re squishy and soft, and a total distraction.
“Yeah,” Seven spins around, lifting his headphones off his ears. He grins, “That’s why you’re in trouble, missy.”
“I’m in trouble?”
“Yep yep~. You should be sleepin’.”
“You should be sleeping.” MC frowns. He hates when she frowns.
Seven stares – gets lost, in the way her hair falls around her face.
“It just doesn’t make any sense,” Seven spins his chair. “How do you do it?”
“Speaking from a technical standpoint, messy hair is supposed to be unattractive.” He talks with his hands, “You put the bun up. It stays up. You sleep. The hair falls out – but consistently it falls the same way. Every morning. Each strand.”
“What are you talking about?”
“But you don’t sleep the same way every night.” Seven rocks back and forth, “I know. Sometimes you lay on your side and sometimes you lay on your back and when you’re not feeling well you sleep on your stomach but your hair still-“
“Luciel…” She’s in front of him now, arms crossed, but eyes soft. “Bed. Now.”
“I can’t baby.” Seven reaches up – pulls out that hairband, and watches the brown strands fall around her face. “I’ll be real fucked if I don’t finish up this work.”
She understands. He sees it in her eyes.
“Okay,” she nods. And leaves.
Seven sits there, staring at the doorway. He’s left with this empty feeling. Fuck he just wants to hold her. Take everything he’s taken before.
But he breathes out hot air, and spins back around.
There’s the sound of something dragging against the floor. Seven jolts in the chair, and looks back over his shoulder- and MC is there, a pillow tucked under her left arm, the entire goddamn comforter in her right.
Seven blurts out a laugh, “Ahah, babe, what are you doing?”
“Going back to bed,” She grumbles, and chucks the pillow onto the couch. She huffily drags the comforter up with her, and snuggles in, like a cute little bean burrito.
Seven watches her, heart still in his ears. She’s so cute, she’s so cute -
She sees him staring. MC sneaks a hand out from beneath the blanket, and gestures in a carry on kind of way.
“Why…” Seven laughs, “Why can’t you just sleep in the bed?”
“Because you’re not there.” She says flatly, and tugs the comforter up to her nose.
Seven breathes in hard. He closes his eyes, and digs his heel into the floor, spinning the chair in a circle, groaning, “Ahhhh~! MC~ you’re making this so hard for me~.”
“Good.” She’s smirking – Seven can see her cheekbones rise from above the blanket.
Ahh, he loves her.
So he turns back around, and works. For her. For the cars he sold. For this house they share.
When she comes home, from her sweet little job as a sweet little barista, he’s almost aching to see her. Dying, actually.
It’s only part time – but those few hours she’s gone, his hands slowly shake and his heart beats fast. He needs her. It’s scary how much he needs her.
So when the door clicks shut, and the keys hit the counter, he swoops his arms beneath her thighs and lifts her against the door. Kisses MC to hear her breathe in – prods her lips open and melts into her. Soft, soft, soft.
“Luciel,” she pants, “are you, ah, okay?”
“No,” he answers, a little too needy, too low for his own liking. “No, I missed you.”
She breathes out; tangles a hand in his hair; tips her head and deepens the kiss into something much more meaningful, until Seven can’t tell up from down.
The way her nails rake through his hair – the way she smells like shampoo. It’s intoxicating, it drives shivers up his spine. The way she’s shameless, the way she rolls her hips against his stomach and pants against his lips.
“Do you remember…” Seven kisses, her lips, then her cheek, “…when you lived at Rika’s apartment?”
“Yes,” MC breathes.
He mouths across her jaw, sloppily licks against her throat, “Remember…the CCTV’s?”
She rolls her hips against him, “Mmhmm.”
He tightens the grip on her thighs, smooths up, to squeeze her ass, “You were…so naughty.”
MC laughs heartily in his arms. She rolls her nails down his neck, swirls around his ears, combs through his hair. “I knew what I wanted.”
Seven giggles too, and quotes, “Oops, dropped my towel~”
MC laughs harder, “It worked, didn’t it?”
“Yes, and no.”
He shifts her a little lower, just to grind his crotch against hers. Seven moans, low in his throat, at the contact, and he feels her wordlessly shiver in his arms.
“Why bring it up?”
“No reason.” He nips down to her shoulder, where her shirt has slid. “I was just thinking about you today?”
“Mmm, and not work?”
She’s so evil, so beautifully divine. MC grinds hard against his crotch, where he’s tenting, almost embarrassingly, in his jeans.
“Ah,” He chokes, and his chest rises with a hard inhale.
MC smiles, “Did you think about me?”
“Did I jerk off, you mean?”
“I did,” he answers. They’re just rocking together now, grinding slow and lazy. It’s good pressure, not enough, but good.
“We’re not kids anymore, Luciel.” She tugs at his hair, pulling his head back to look him in the eye.
He smirks, “What? I’m not allowed to JO anymore ‘cause I turned twenty-eight?”
“No,” she jokes. She leans down close, just to mouth against his lips, “I just want your orgasms to belong to me.”
Ah, god. Seven feels his dick practically jump in his goddamn pants.
Seven lets out an incredibly undignified noise, rolling his hips hard and moaning against her lips, kissing her wetly and stealing her soul with this tongue. Air rushes out her nose, and she mewls, so sweet and hot.
“In a way,” he pants, “it did.”
“Give me another one,” She purrs, and Seven does. He hauls her to the bedroom. Throws her on the bed. Chucks off their clothes and smooths his hands up her bare thighs, until his palms are at her back, and her knees are against his head.
And Seven eats her out in earnest, again and again, until she’s gripping the headboard and screaming his name. He grinds against the sheets – delves his tongue against her, runs his hands along her hips and tastes her until his jaw is numb.
When he rocks his dick against her, his head tucks to his chin. She’s soaking, he’s soaking, they’re both a sticky mess. He hooks his arms beneath her knees and becomes lost. For a while he stays there, just rubbing his cock between her legs, moaning and shivering until she begs.
And then he fucks in, and it’s all downhill from there. They breathe hard, pant together. She begs harder, and he grips the headboard, rolling his hips until their voices are rubbed raw.
He’s never seen her cry. Not even once.
Seven isn’t even a crier, but still, once or twice he’s sniveled into the crook of his arm.
But MC has never cried. She’s a pillar of hope. The strongest woman Seven has ever met.
So when he goes grocery shopping, and comes home to soft sniffling, he chucks those goddamn groceries, and books it to the other side of the house.
“MC?!” He calls, “MC?”
There’s a gasp, and the hiccupping stops. Seven runs to the bathroom door, heartrate skyrocketing. He knocks on the door, “Babe? Baby? Are you in there?”
“Hahah…Luciel…” she fakes a laugh. “Sorry, I forgot you were coming home.”
“Are you okay?” Seven panics. “Can you open the door?”
“Haha…I’m…I’m okay. Sorry, I just look pitiful right now, haha.”
“What happened?” Seven brushes his fingers against the doorknob. “Please let me see you.”
“No thank you.”
Her voice sounds so broken and sad. There’s a sharp little inhale, and a hiccup, and Seven’s heart sinks to his knees.
“Sweetheart, please.” He strains. “Please please please. I’ll break down this door. I’ll do it. Baby I will-“
She’s smiling as she cries. He can hear it in her voice: “Noo, don’t.”
Seven pats his pockets – he’ll totally pick this lock if he has to – but there’s a soft click, and Seven’s heart jumps into his throat.
He throws open the door, and there she is, sitting against the bathroom wall, hands around her knees. She’s trying to wipe away the sticky tears on her cheeks, and she’s smiling, from the embarrassment.
“Oh my god, what happened?” Seven immediately sinks down, body on red alert. Panic panic panic- he’s never seen her cry.
“Nothing really.” She laughs, “I was just sad.”
“I don’t really know,” MC looks to her knees. “Maybe I missed you.”
“I-I was just gone for an hour," Seven tries.
“I’ll miss you.” She corrects. “You leave next week, right?”
Seven inhales. Yeah…yeah. It’s just a small trip. Two or three weeks in Berlin, meeting with some special government agency that needs his help.
“I’ll cancel it,” Seven blurts. “All of it.”
MC laughs, wiping her eyes, “You can’t do that.”
“I will. Right now, I’ll call-“
“No, don’t.” She smiles. “We’ve just…never been apart that long. I got a little scared, is all.”
Seven scoops her up in his arms- shifts her in his lap on the bathroom floor. Kisses her nose and her cheeks and says, “I’ll call you every day.”
“And you won’t get hurt?”
“I am 99.67236 percent sure.”
“What about that .32764?”
“Wow,” Seven breathes. “I’m incredibly impressed that you did that in your head.”
“Answer my question,” She pouts.
“I will be safe.” He squeezes her hips. “I pinky promise.”
“Cross your heart and hope to die?”
“Stick a needle in my eye.”
MC smiles, and shifts in his lap. “Sorry. I’m needy.”
“I’m honestly so honored that you cried on my behalf.” Seven grins, “I can’t wait to tell Zen. He’ll never believe me.”
“Nooo!” She laughs, “Don’t tell anyone.”
“Yoosung will be like Picture! Picture!”
“I’ll delete it!”
“Too late,” Seven taps his head, and grins. “Photographic memory, sweetheart.”
“Hmph,” she pouts, cute lower lip protruding just a little. Her eyes sparkle, “I’ll just tell them about the time you cried when we first had sex.”
Seven gasps, “I did not cry-“
“I did a little but you promised not to tell anyone!”
“Too late~ grabbing my phone now- ” She scurries out of his lap, and books it down the hall. Seven gives a big, dramatic gasp, and chases her with a grin.
“You get back here!-“
“Siri!” She screams into her phone, squealing, hopping up on the bed to get away from him. “Text the RFA!”
“Don’t!” Seven yells, while laughing. He reaches for her ankle, and she yelps, squealing as he tugs her down.
“Tell them- ahah- tell them that Seven cried when we first had sex!” She yells, wrestling her phone away from him. He flops on her back, wiggles his arms around her, tries so so hard to grab the phone-
Siri asks, “Send Message to RFA?”
> Oh my god are you serious.
> my wifey is so mean ｡･ﾟ･(*ﾉД`*)･ﾟ･。
> He threatened me first lolol
> I’m proud of you, MC.
> She cried because I’m leaving on Friday!
> She’s the crier!
> Awwww, that’s so cute (´ ∀ ｀) ♡
> Do not worry, MC.
> Everything will be fine
> Yeah! We can totally hang out while he’s gone.
> We’ll keep you company!
> DON’T GO NEAR HER
> sounds fun ^^
> I gotta cancel my trip now T_T
> I can’t trust ya’ll
> maybe my boy yoosung
> but the rest of you
> MC, we can go out for drinks, if you’d like.
> I know a great restaurant with exquisite wine.
> Ooh, yes please. I love wine.
> got my phone back.
> nice try 7
> she locked herself in the bathroom again ｡･ﾟ･(*ﾉД`*)･ﾟ･。
Yoosung ☆ :
> are you hurting her/?//?/
> of course not!!!
> I just wanted to give her belly lots of smooches ^^
> so cute
> gross, I’m out.
> MC lmk if u got any more embarrassing seven stories.
> well this one time
> BABE PLEASE
Seven can hear giggling from the bathroom, but it's better than crying. Much, much better. He'd take all the embarrassment in the world, to never see her sad again. Worth it, worth it. Totally worth it.
They’ve got an interesting dynamic. A steady push and pull.
They both have a leg in the metaphorical pants. It’s not a fight, but more of a joint effort.
Sometimes, when she’s being a tease, licking up his thigh and mouthing at his chest, he’ll rumble in a voice low and raspy, “Hands and knees. Now.” – and he’ll watch the way she shivers. Watch the way her pupils dilate, and her body keens.
He loves to use his voice – to mumble in her ear and watch her back arch. To let his tongue loose in bed, yes, yes, so good, so beautiful, so wet, god, you’re perfect-
But she’s got a leg in, remember?
“Dress up for me,” she’ll say, back straight, a hand idly stirring her coffee, and Seven’s breath will rush out harder than his brain can handle.
So he sits on the bed, legs slightly spread, the sweet little maid's outfit barely reaching his lower thigh. He’s wearing the garter for good measure. He looks cute, he thinks.
And MC certainly thinks so too.
He loves the way her eyes roam him. Loves how she starts at his toes, and scans up the inside of his leg. She stares at his chest – his collarbones prominent.
“I love you,” she says. “You’re so beautiful, Luciel.”
“Pff, look at you,” Seven jokes, as he does. She’s gorgeous, long hair across her bare shoulders. The strap of her tank top is pink, just like the flush that runs down her chest.
“Mm,” she hums, and slides up to the edge of the bed. She grips his knees, spreads his legs, slides her hands up his inner thighs, and brings her mouth to kiss his, hot and passionate and wet. Their noses brush, his glasses dig into her cheek, but she licks across his lower lip, and he lets her.
He feels something brush against his palm.
“For you,” she says, with a smirk, and Seven feels his face go red.
“On your knees~” She purrs, and stands back far enough for him to do so.
God, it’s so hot. So, so hot when she looks at him like that. He boils, his skin burns. He looks at the lube in his hand, and does something he’s done many times before.
“Make sure you’re watching, baby,” Seven flirts, and hikes his dress up to his hips. He slicks his fingers, stretches himself with a short breath and a needy inhale. He's tight, obviously. It's been a while.
“I’m watching,” MC assures him. She slides a hand up his thigh – another into his hair. Kisses him hard, and mouths, “I’m always watching you.”
“Hah,” he pants, shivering, fingers reaching far, but just not far enough. “Are you gonna’ fuck me, hm?”
“No,” she purrs. She brings something to rest against his thigh- drags it up, and uses it to pull up the skirt. “This will.”
Ahhhh fuck, that’s a dildo. Ahhhhh fuck, just imagining his sweet little MC in a sex shop makes his throat close.
“Oh no,” she giggles. “I bought this online.”
“Ah, ah,” Seven stretches his fingers, and pants, “O-On my computer?”
“With my amazon account?”
“Hrrhh,” he closes his eyes, and rocks into his fingers. His dick tents the dress, his hair sticks to his forehead. “T-That’s in my internet history forever now.”
“I’m sure you can fix that,” she laughs, and runs her hand along the outline of his cock. He arches his back, and groans.
“Ahh, babe, babe I’m good.”
“Perfect,” she grins. MC places a slender knee between his, and hikes herself up on the bed, saying, “On your back, solider.”
“Yes Sarg,” Seven plays along, with a grin, pulling out his slick fingers and flopping onto his back.
“Pretty pretty princess,” MC teases. Seven spreads his thighs with a wink, and MC kneels between them.
It’s a nice power shift, Seven thinks. There’s just no pressure with her. Nothing to be embarrassed about. I mean, not really.
They tease, and they joke, but that’s who they are.
She curls her nails around his knee, rubs the dildo against his ass. Seven’s breath hitches, and his head tips back, body tensing already.
“Relax, babe.” Her voice smooths, like hot sweet honey, and Seven nods.
“I’m always relaxed.”
“I hope that’s a joke.” She smiles, “You’re made of 100 percent stress.”
“That is also true.”
She presses the slicked dildo in, just a little, and Seven holds his breath. He forces it out hard, and MC slowly edges the toy in the rest of the way. He burns, he burns, it feels good, it feels-
She wraps her lips around his cock, and fucks the toy in, and Seven’s voice pitches so high it cracks.
Her tongue is so skilled, wrapping around him like it’s learned to. Her fingers pull the toy, thrust it back in, angles it up, and makes his back arch.
“Fuck!” He curses, “Fuck, fuck fuck-“
She hums and pops back. Drools a little, and sucks him back down again.
Evil, evil. She’s so evil.
MC pushes in the toy with the palm of her hand. Keeps it there, and spreads his thighs wider. “I missed you,” she hums, when she pulls back far enough to speak.
“Ahh, hah, I k-know, you told m-me.” He trembles. His gut twists and turns, his dick throbs mercilessly. He's gonna' die, right here. He's so turned on, he'll die.
“I really missed you,” she speaks slowly. The dildo tugs out, and Seven moans.
“Ehehe. W-Was it you who thought about me then?”
“Did I jerk off, you mean?” She asks, with a grin, and Seven immediately remembers their conversation from months ago.
“I did.” She quotes back, with a wicked smirk, and works the toy perfect enough for Seven’s eyes to roll shut, and toes to curl. Hot, hot-
“MC- bb-abe, careful, I’m gonna’, I’m gonna-“
She wraps her lips around him, rolls the toy in hard, bobs her head and swallows everything, as Seven fists a hand in her hair, and sobs. Everything whites, everything throbs, and trembles. Crests, until he's falling.
When it’s all done, when he’s panting and sticky with sweat, MC opens her mouth wide, just for proof. All gone.
“Good girl,” he chokes. “Good, good girl.”
“My good girl,” MC teases, and Seven laughs against her lips.
Then she’s the one rolled over. The one stripped naked, and forced pliant into the sheets.
And so, the celestial metaphor lives on.
Their sleep schedule is royally fucked, yes, but still, when they wake up side by side, Seven can only look at her and think The sun! The sun! The sun lives in my bedroom!
Her face hasn’t aged a day. The dark circles under her eyes only add to her beauty. Her nail polish chips easily, but it’s cute, it’s cute. He loves when she gets combs stuck in her hair. He loves when she chews on her lips until they’re swollen and pink.
He, God Seven, defender of justice, will always protect her. Protect her for everything she is. For everything she represents in this world.
He’d give her anything. Anything she wanted. All the chips, all the cars. He’d give it up for her.
But all she asks for is him.
So when Seven rises, at the buttcrack of dawn, to memorize code and scroll through lines and lines of useless data, he kisses her forehead and brushes back her bangs. Says I love you, I love you, because he does, he does.
And she rolls over, yawning, lub you too-
It’s such a breath of fresh air. It's so sentimental, but eh? Who's a guy to judge, lol.