#Or he's incapable of making his own decisions | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

yuujispinkhair · 3 months ago

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ILLICIT AFFAIRS

You show me colors I can't see with anyone else

You are stuck in an unhappy marriage, not brave enough to leave your cheating husband. Until you meet Sukuna.

Pairing: Modern!Sukuna x Reader (female) Word Count: 10k Warnings: 18+, fluff, hurt/comfort, smut, but not explicit, cheating (Reader's husband cheats on her, and later on, she cheats on him with Sukuna). Sukuna is a CEO (or can be read as a Yakuza boss, too). Sukuna + Reader are both in their thirties. The fic title is taken from Taylor Swift's "Illicit Affairs", but in this story, the secret affair has a happy ending. This story is super self-indulgent, but I hope some of my fellow Sukuna lovers will enjoy it, too! Minors don't interact. Divider @./lovwoung

You often ask yourself what went wrong. How did you end up trapped in this unhappy marriage? Maybe you were too young, too inexperienced, too naive when you met your husband. Maybe you were too insecure, convinced no one would ever want you, and so you gratefully settled for the first man who showed interest in dating you.

Your relationship was never like those romances you knew from books or movies, but you assumed that was just how things were in reality. Your mom, your aunt, and everyone else told you how lucky you were to have finally found a man willing to be with you. How lucky to have found someone with a good job and from a good family. They were also the ones who pressured the two of you to get married, and ever since then, things have gone downhill.

Your husband hasn't shown you any love or affection in years. The only time he shows interest in you is when he wants to have sex, but even that is without any real intimacy. He hasn't kissed you in years, and if he did at this point, you would probably be disgusted by it. There is no love in this marriage.

The worst thing is you know he is cheating on you. You already suspected it when he suddenly had to stay at work a lot longer than usual and when he began to hide his phone screen from you. And then one night, you woke up and walked into the kitchen to get a glass of water, and that's when you overheard your husband talking on the phone with some other woman calling her angel and baby and telling her how beautiful she was.

Even though you didn't love him anymore, it still made your world tumble down around you.

You want to leave him, but you can't. Everything is too much, too overwhelming. You have always found it very hard to make decisions, and this one is huge. You have no idea where to go or how to get by on your own. All your savings went into buying this apartment, and now what?

And it's not just the financial aspect that worries you. Everyone has always told you that you would never survive on your own. They always kept you small, turning you into someone who is dependent on others. You got told that you are weird, not good enough, and incapable of ever taking control of your life. And at some point over the years, you started to believe that. Your self-confidence is non-existent.

You tell your mom about the cheating, and she tells you to stay with your husband.

"It's just a little fling. At least you are lucky that he doesn't want to divorce you. It would be such a financial disaster, and you know how you are. You don't do well on your own. Just stay with him and find joy in other things. Maybe pick up a new hobby. I could give you Kira's number. She just joined a nice Yoga class!"

You don't go to the Yoga class, but you also don't leave your husband. You try to pretend everything is fine. Try to gaslight yourself into thinking that maybe you are really just a hysterical, insecure, and overjealous idiot who misinterpreted things.

The months pass, and you catch him flirting on the phone several times. An annual business event is scheduled, which you always accompany him to, but he tells you it got canceled this year. Only to find out from the wife of one of his coworkers that the event took place as usual, but you and your husband simply never showed up. You know why. He didn't want you there. He didn't want to risk his little affair and his wife running into each other.

You've given up on love by now. You hate seeing ads for romance novels or rom-coms. You stop listening to music because most songs are lovesongs. For all you know, romantic love is just a made-up thing that people sing about and write about, but it's all just lies.

Or maybe it does exist in real life. But not for you. Maybe you simply aren't the type of woman who deserves to be loved. Maybe your mom is right, and you should just accept it.

So you stay with your husband, but you are dead inside.

Until you meet Sukuna.

He is everything you ever dreamed about in your secret fantasies that you started to develop to comfort yourself. A dreamed life, but now it's right in front of you, close enough to touch. Sukuna is a real gentleman. An attractive mix of a bad boy and a successful, serious businessman. Smart, confident, and sexy, with a boyish playfulness beneath his professional appearance.

Ironically, you meet him the night you try to save your marriage.

You are already sitting at the table for two you booked for a date in one of the best restaurants in the city. You put on makeup and spend an hour picking a dress in which you feel at least half attractive. And now you sit here, sipping your red wine, waiting for your husband to arrive, to hopefully bond with him again over a delicious dinner and a few hours where you can talk and maybe laugh together.

Only that your husband never shows up. You have already finished your first glass of wine and received several pitiful looks from the waitress when your phone buzzes with a message. It's your husband telling you he can't make it. "Something has come up at work. I don't know when I will be able to leave. Just have dinner without me."

You stare at the message for far too long, not even knowing how to respond. Feeling utterly humiliated, utterly hurt, and abandoned. Worthless. You know he is going to see his girlfriend instead tonight. His girlfriend, who is young and sexy, and can give him what he wants.

And suddenly, you can't hold back the tears anymore. You blink hastily, wiping angrily at your cheeks, trying everything not to ruin your makeup or have a breakdown in the middle of the crowded restaurant. But the waitress chooses that exact moment to walk up to you with an overly bright smile, asking,

"Excuse me, Madam. Would it be alright if someone joins you at your table?"

You look at her, caught off guard, really not wanting a stranger at your table in this horrid moment, but you are too polite to say no, and so you smile weakly back at her, pressing out in a tear-thick voice,

"Of course, I don't mind."

You wipe your eyes again, trying to will the tears away, as a tall man in a fancy-looking black suit and slicked-back pink hair comes into view. He is snapping at the waitress, clearly annoyed, saying something about how rude it is to forget his reservation and that this will have consequences since he is a regular customer, etc.

But he sits down across from you, still fuming as the waitress bows deeply several times, apologizing profusely for the mistake, promising that the man's food and drinks will be free tonight.

He lets out an exasperated sigh and orders a glass of red wine, which the waitress immediately scrambles to get for him.

You gulp hard, trying to regain composure, hoping you don't look as forlorn as you feel. You lift your head to nod at the man across from you, trying to muster up a polite smile because, after all, you have been trained from a young age to always be friendly.

You take him in and draw in a surprised breath. He is gorgeous. The most attractive man you have ever seen. Tall and broad-shouldered with masculine but beautiful features. Angular jawline, intelligent maroon eyes, and sensual lips that are lifted in a smug smirk as he nods back at you,

"Excuse this inconvenience. I will make sure whoever is responsible will get fired."

And, of course, you splutter and are quick to try doing damage control, not wanting some poor person to lose their job over this.

"Oh no, please, it's no problem at all!"

The pink-haired man laughs softly, a low, husky sound that makes your pulse flutter nervously.

He looks intimidating with his tall height and muscular build, and the tattoos that line his handsome face. But he is distinguished and elegant, wearing a designer suit and an expensive watch. Clearly, he is a regular guest of a restaurant like this.

He looks like a successful CEO (or a Yakuza boss, your mind provides not helpful at all). He's definitely someone in a powerful position, judging by his whole appearance and the dominant and confident aura he exudes. But he also has pastel pink hair, a boyish grin, and a playful attitude that makes him seem not as scary as you first thought.

His wine arrives from a different waitress, and he thanks her politely, telling her,

"Put everything the lovely lady across from me orders on my card."

The waitress is quick to bow deeply with a polite, "Of course, Mr. Itadori," at the same moment, as your eyes widen, and you quickly argue,

"Oh no, please, I can't..."

But he smirks his charming smirk and lifts a large hand dismissively,

"It's the least I can do for ruining your evening in much-wanted solitude."

Much wanted solitude.

His words hit you to the core, making all the sadness well up in you again. If only it were true. If only you were truly a single, independent woman who came here after a successful day at work to enjoy dinner on her own in voluntarily chosen solitude.

But you are none of that. You are an abandoned and unloved wife with a boring job and no money, sitting here at a table for two because your husband ditched you to fuck his pretty little assistant in his office.

And suddenly, the tears are back in your eyes, making it hard to see. You quickly avert your shameful gaze, your hand grabbing your wine glass so tightly it almost breaks.

Your sight is blurry, but you can still see the shocked look on the man's face across from you. His eyes dart away from you but then back again, obviously not used to the company of a crying stranger. He clears his throat before he leans slightly across the table, lowering his voice to a soft murmur,

"Are you alright?"

You feel embarrassment flood you, feeling so mortified at your behavior. You wish the ground would just open up and swallow you! This is so typical of you, ruining this stranger's evening, because you don't have your emotions under control and act like a complete fool. It's something your husband would chide you for or make fun of if he saw it.

"I... I am so sorry! Please just ignore me."

You hate how your voice breaks, and before you can suppress it, a pathetic-sounding sob falls from your lips. You press your hands to your face, sobbing silently into them, trying to hide from the world and from the poor guy who's forced to share this table with you.

But then you feel a tentative touch, a warm hand gently brushing over your arm, and you pull your hands from your face, blinking at your table partner, feeling your lips tremble and your face burning, knowing that you must look so ugly right now with your makeup ruined and tears and snot coating your face.

Another apology is already waiting on your tongue, but he shakes his head, and somehow, it's so authoritative but also gentle that your apology dies on your tongue. Instead, you blink at him, as he cocks his head and watches you thoughtfully, that low voice so smooth and soothing when he says,

"Don't apologize."

You nod, trying to smile gratefully at him, but fail miserably as his kind reaction only causes more tears to fall.

He shoves his hand into the pocket of his suit jacket and pulls out a handkerchief. Not a paper tissue, but an actual handkerchief. He offers it to you, and you reach for it automatically, thanking him. But you freeze the moment your hand wraps around the fabric, realizing it's made out of fine silk.

He raises an eyebrow,

"Please, take it."

"But I... I will just ruin it with my makeup..."

He huffs, a soft smirk lifting his lips,

"I don't care. I'll just buy a new one. Take it. I insist."

"Th.. thank you, sir. That's really sweet of you."

His lips twitch,

"You're welcome. And for you, it's Sukuna, not sir."

You sniffle, pressing his handkerchief against your cheeks as you nod and tell him your name.

His smirk softens to a small smile, and he jerks his tattooed chin toward your empty wine glass.

"Do you want another one of those? Looks like you could use it."

You nod as more tears well up in your eyes, and Sukuna snips his fingers, instantly summoning a waiter to your table as if they are all hovering nearby just waiting for Sukuna to voice a wish.

Five minutes later, you have another red wine to hold on to and sip on, which causes a comforting buzz in your head, and suddenly, it all breaks out of you, and you tell Sukuna everything. You tell him about your failed marriage, about how lonely you feel, how unloved. About your cheating husband. About how pathetic you think you are for not daring to leave him because you have never been on your own before and you have no one who has your back.

You cry and sob and take big gulps of the wine while pouring your heart out to this beautiful stranger sitting across from you. This guy who, despite his intimidating look, is surprisingly gentle with you and who doesn't mind that you stain his silken handkerchief with your mascara and lipstick.

Sukuna actually listens to you. He looks earnestly at you, clenches his jaw when you tell him how your husband treats you, and shakes his head when you say under tears how stupid you think you are.

"No, you aren't. Don't blame yourself. It's him. He is the problem. He is the asshole."

Sukuna is the first one who tells you that you deserve better.

You feel an unexpected relief at finally being able to pour your heart out to someone. And just when you get yourself enough under control again to begin feeling embarrassed at your outburst, Sukuna flashes you a smirk and raises an eyebrow, asking,

"Do you want me to get rid of him for you?"

Which makes you forget the embarrassment and instead stare at him with big eyes and hurriedly splutter,

"Oh my god, no! This is not what I..."

You don't get any further because Sukuna begins to laugh, shaking his head slightly as his eyes sparkle amusedly at you.

"Don't worry. I'm just joking."

You huff a breath of relief, followed by a little laugh. Sukuna's comment managed to pull you out of your little moment of regret, and you feel better again, taking another sip from your wine and even managing to eat a few bites of the meal Sukuna ordered for the two of you, claiming that an empty stomach is never good.

Sukuna is nice to you. It's astounding to you because, with the way he looks with those face tattoos and the slightly dangerous aura surrounding him, you would have never thought a man like him could be so nice. It brings more tears to your eyes, feeling too emotional from all the wine. But you use Sukuna's handkerchief to blot them away.

He leaves with you when you say you have to go home, walks around the table, and pulls out your chair like a real gentleman. He offers you his strong arm when you sway lightly on your heels. He helps you into your coat and accompanies you to the exit.

You stand in front of the restaurant on the busy street, but all you see is Sukuna, who stands so close to you that you can smell his cologne, a sensual, woodsy scent that fits him perfectly, smelling expensive and sexy.

He puts a large hand on your tear-stained cheek, cupping it gently, wiping a few fresh tears away, and you take a step closer to him as if drawn in by a magical force, craving this tender touch, even if it's just a stranger touching your cheek in the middle of a busy sidewalk.

Sukuna is so tall and broad, making you feel so safe somehow, and before you can stop yourself, you lean your head against his broad chest, closing your eyes for a moment and sighing longingly. For the first time in so long, you feel as if you can breathe.

You reluctantly take a step back again, tilting your head to smile up at Sukuna, thanking him again for everything he did for you. And he grins at you and leans down, his lips brushing over your ear, while his hand still caresses your cheek,

"You deserve so much better than your asshole of a husband. Don't hesitate to call or text me when you need a break again."

And with that, he presses a gentle kiss to your cheek. It's such a delicate feeling, so soft and gone again in a split second that you aren't sure if it really happened or if you just imagined it, but it fills you with such warmth that it almost hurts.

Sukuna pulls away with a smirk, and you see a business card dangling from his long fingers. You take it from him with a small, grateful smile.

+++

Several days pass, during which you firmly ignore the business card that's still in your purse.

Waking up the next morning after meeting Sukuna made you feel strange. Guilty somehow. As if you had done something wrong. It's ridiculous, of course. Nothing happened between Sukuna and you. And if someone was supposed to feel guilt, it was your husband. And yet you refused to even look at the business card, feeling like you would be doing something bad if you even so much as entertained the idea of adding Sukuna's number to your contacts.

No, you would never contact Sukuna. You would do as your mom had said. Just accept the circumstances of your marriage and create your own happiness. Maybe you should really find a new hobby. Or maybe you could get a pet? A cat or a dog?

For the next few days, you almost manage to convince yourself that you are fine with your life. You keep yourself busy by researching different cat and dog breeds and starting a new TV show.

But then you walk in on your husband flirting with his affair on the phone again, and you see red. This time, you can't stop yourself from confronting him, from snapping at him and screaming at him under tears to stop it.

It leads to nothing, though. He is so unbothered, so smooth, lying through his teeth, downplaying it, claiming she is just a good friend, making you seem like some nutcase who overreacts at every little thing.

You escape to the bedroom, sitting on the bed, staring off into space as tears stream down your face, feeling so helpless in your rage and misery. What are you supposed to do when your cheating partner refuses to admit he is actually cheating on you?

You wish you had the courage to leave him. Or better, you wish he would take the decision from you and leave you so you won't be the one everyone blames for ending this seemingly perfect marriage! And so you won't have to be the one who makes a decision that will change your whole life.

You yank open your nightstand, searching for some paper tissues. And that's when you see Sukuna's handkerchief again, peeking out from under a package of chocolate cookies.

You brush tenderly over the soft, silken fabric. A small smile lifts your lips as your fingers brush over the initials embroidered on it in one corner in a fancy gold thread. S.I.. Itadori Sukuna.

You let out a long breath, wiping your tears away with one hand while the other holds the handkerchief. And suddenly, the clouds seem to disappear as you remember the warmth you felt when Sukuna cupped your cheek and wiped your tears away. And suddenly you know what you want to do.

You jump up and walk to your dresser, pull it open hurriedly, and yank out the purse you had with you in that restaurant. You open it, impatiently emptying its contents over your bed, until you see the business card with Sukuna's contact information.

On any other day, you would overthink things and take an hour to even make up your mind about what to write, but in the state you are in right now, everything seems so clear.

You grab your phone, add Sukuna's contact, and open a new text message. Your fingers seem to do the work without you consciously having to think about it as they quickly type a message:

"Hey. It's your surprise table partner from last Friday. Thank you again for being so nice to me and for your handkerchief."

You feel triumphant as you place your phone down on your nightstand. And then it buzzes, and your heart jumps to your throat. There's a reply.

"I'm glad you finally texted me. You are very welcome. How are you feeling?"

"I am ok. What about you?"

You cringe at your poor small-talk skills, but Sukuna is surprisingly easy to talk to. He tells you about his day, about business meetings, and what he will have for dinner.

There's a strange feeling spreading through your chest. A kind of longing. You crave the feeling of being near Sukuna again. How safe you felt when leaning your head against his chest for a few seconds. How seen you felt when he listened patiently to you and reassured you.

You want to see him again. Want that feeling again.

"I want to give you back your handkerchief. Where can we meet?"

You know you sound weird as fuck, but it's the only way you dare ask him to meet you again.

"I don't want that handkerchief back, sweetheart. But we should meet up anyway. I quite enjoyed your company. How about you join me again for dinner sometime this week?"

Oh.

Your heart is racing uncontrollably, and your hand shakes as you stare at Sukuna's message.

This is it. This is where things become dangerous. You know the right thing to do would be to say no. It's what a married woman should do. But your husband is in the living room, probably sexting his little affair, so why should you be a good wife?

And so you text Sukuna back, letting him know that dinner sounds great.

+++

The dinner with Sukuna is nice. Really nice. You catch yourself feeling so much lighter, your lips lifted in genuine laughter, your eyes shining with happiness as you spend your evening with Sukuna. He is a very charming conversationalist. Cocky, but in such a playful way that it makes you giggle and feel your face get hot from all the joy it brings you to playfully joke around with him and let him tease you in such a charming and light-hearted way.

Your meeting is innocent, nothing that could be counted as cheating. Just a man and a woman who enjoy good food and wine together and chat about everything and nothing. The occasional small touches don't count, right? Like when Sukuna's large hand brushes over the back of your much smaller hand that's resting on the table.

Or when he reaches across the table to cup your chin and wipe some cherry sauce off the corner of your lips with his thumb. But just because his gentle touch makes your skin tingle and your pulse quicken doesn't mean there is anything going on between Sukuna and you!

Sukuna refuses to let you pay, saying it's a delight for him to have you keep him company. And you laugh bashfully and wave him off but feel so giddy. Sukuna offers you his arm when you walk out of the restaurant, and you take it happily, marveling at how tall he is and how safe you feel walking at his side, biting your lip when you wrap your hand around his upper arm and feel his big biceps flex under your palm.

You say good night on the street in front of the restaurant, and before you know what you are doing, you wrap your arms around Sukuna for a light hug. You intend to pull away again immediately, just a quick, friendly hug, but you get stopped by Sukuna's strong arms wrapping around you, holding you firmly, hugging you back, and not letting you go yet.

He rests his chin on your head, and you have the enticing scent of his cologne in your nose again. You feel so warm and comfortable with Sukuna's strong arms around you, his tall, muscular body pressing against you, warm and reassuring. It makes you let out a shaky breath, overcome with feelings, because you can't remember the last time someone hugged you like this.

Sukuna's low voice is a velvety rumble when he says,

"I am on the National Museum's VIP list. There will be a pre-opening event for a new exhibition this coming week. Heian era. It sounds interesting. Would you like to accompany me?"

You lift your head, looking curiously at Sukuna,

"What must one do to get added to the National Museum's VIP list?"

An amused smirk lifts Sukuna's lips, making him look so unfairly handsome,

"Oh, nothing much, just make one or two generous donations every year."

He shrugs, and you laugh, beaming up at him in amusement as you nod,

"I would love to accompany you."

"Sweet. It's settled, then. I'll text you the day and time."

You want to walk to the subway, but Sukuna stops you with a warm hand on your arm, saying he will drive you home. For a moment, you freeze, not knowing what to say. It feels wrong somehow to let another man drive you to the apartment you share with your husband. And maybe you should be cautious and keep a distance and not let Sukuna know exactly where you live.

But you shake yourself out of it. All of those things have been hammered into your brain all of your life, making you anxious and scared and never truly living your life. You are already meeting with Sukuna for dinner and will accompany him to a museum next week. The world won't end if he knows your address!

You smile at him and nod, telling him it would be very nice if he drove you. And Sukuna smiles back, a pleased look in his maroon eyes. He gently steers you towards the parking space with a large hand resting lightly on the small of your back as you stroll down the street.

You catch yourself having a more upright posture than usual, your head lifted, your lips adorned with a soft smile. You feel like the passerbies are all looking at you and Sukuna. Maybe thinking the two of you are a couple on a date, and the thought makes your stomach tingle.

Sukuna's car is a black Porsche. You don't even know why you are surprised. He grins lazily as he opens the door for you and helps you slip into the passenger seat, handing you your purse when you sit and carefully closing the door behind you before he walks around the front of the fancy sports car and gets into the driver's seat.

"Nice car," you say, and Sukuna turns to look at you with a teasing twinkle in his eyes,

"Well, I'm not a nice guy, so at least my car should be."

"Oh, I think you are very nice."

The two of you hold eye contact for a long moment, both pairs of eyes filled with amusement before you burst out giggling, and Sukuna joins you with his low laugh.

+++

You spend the next evenings at home, having dinner with your husband, who is busy with his phone most of the time, making the cold, heavy feeling in your stomach even worse.

Your only joy is the anticipation you feel in looking forward to Wednesday afternoon when you will meet Sukuna at the museum.

He is already waiting when you arrive, leaning casually against a pillar next to the entrance, tall and handsome with his perfectly styled pink hair and his Tom Ford suit. A dark red one this time, which makes his eyes look like red wine.

Sukuna is a beautiful man.

For a moment, you feel a nervous flutter in your chest, but it vanishes again when Sukuna grins at you and greets you with his warm, low voice and a large hand on your back, pulling you into a half hug.

He doesn't even have to say his name when the two of you approach the young man who greets the guests and ticks off their names on the guest list.

"Ah, Mr Itadori! Have fun at the exhibition. And thank you so much for your generous support."

Your hand slips naturally around Sukuna's arm as you stroll through the exhibition. It feels nice to be here. It makes you realize how long it's been since you last visited a museum. Or did any kind of activity, really. Your husband never had time for you during the last few years.

You can tell that Sukuna is genuinely interested in the exhibition. He already seems to be an expert on the topic, adding interesting facts to the already detailed info sheets next to each exhibition piece.

It's an equal amount of endearing and sexy how nerdy he seems to be about this. Attractive. You like smart men. You like it when a man is passionate about learning everything about a topic that interests him. And Sukuna is like that.

You hang on his lips, soaking up his knowledge, feeling way too hot when you watch the sparkle in his maroon eyes as he goes into a passionate monologue about political intrigues during the timeline of one of the exhibition pieces.

And he seems to like that you also show genuine interest in the exhibition and in what he has to say about it. He blesses you with a soft smile that makes your stomach flutter. You feel exhilarated, your heart pounding in your chest, almost bursting with happiness. A long-forgotten feeling emerging again after so many years.

You thank Sukuna profusely for the fun afternoon, and he grins that charming, boyish grin at you and tells you he is grateful that you kept him such lovely company.

This time, there is no doubt about whether he really kisses your cheek or not. His lips linger on your heated skin for a long moment, soft lips pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek before Sukuna smiles at you and cups your other cheek with his hand, his long fingers caressing it slowly.

"Let's meet again for dinner next week, sweetheart."

+++

You pace your living room restlessly.

Your trip to the museum with Sukuna made you realize something. It made you realize what this giddy feeling is that has been filling you ever since you started to meet up with him. That light-hearted, fluttery, happy feeling you get when you see him or even just when you think of him (which is almost every waking second of your day).

You try to shut down those feelings, telling yourself it's dangerous to let someone make you feel so much again. It makes you too vulnerable. It will only lead to more chaos and more hurt.

Why would a man like Sukuna even be interested in anything serious with me? He can probably have anyone. Either he only sees me as a friend, or I am just a little fling to him. I have to stop this before I get in even deeper!

In the coming week, you cancel your dinner with Sukuna by sending him a short text telling him you have a cold. He sends you a get well soon message and asks if you need anything, which you deny, even while you sob silently because Sukuna is so caring, and all you want to do is run into his strong arms and forget about your joyless life.

But you stay strong and put your phone away, forbidding yourself from sending more messages to Sukuna.

Your husband makes a rare attempt to talk to you, and you already know what he wants. After tiptoeing around you for several hours, he asks you for sex. You join him in the dark bedroom, feeling nothing as you slip out of your clothes and climb into bed with him.

You have learned to close your eyes during sex and let your mind wander, imagining all kinds of fictional scenarios to help you feel anything at all. But this time, you don't think of a fictional love interest out of a romance novel or an actor you find attractive. This time, you think of Sukuna.

You feel dirty afterward as you stand under the shower and scrub at your skin. Dirty for thinking of Sukuna while you slept with your husband. But what makes you feel even dirtier is that you still let your cheating husband touch you even though Sukuna is so nice to you. It feels as if you are cheating on both of them.

You cry so much that you feel like you have no tears left.

+++

Even though you haven't met or talked to Sukuna in over a week, he is still constantly on your mind. You are haunted by images of him. That beautiful tattooed face. That sexy low voice and the playful smirk. That tall and muscular body that makes you feel so tiny in comparison and so safe when you are standing in front of him or leaning against him.

You sigh. One would assume that acknowledging that you are developing romantic feelings for Sukuna would make things easier for you. Clearer. But the thing is, even though you know what your heart wants, you are still too scared to end things with your husband. There are too many insecurities. Too many risks and you feel so useless and weak, just like your parents always told you you are.

You feel frozen, unable to make a move. There is this wonderful man who treats you as if you are special and shows you how a man is supposed to make you feel, and yet you lack the courage to get out of your loveless marriage.

You have always been an overthinker, always scared to trust your instincts. Brought up to always be sensible and make decisions with your head and not your heart. So how could you just leave the security of this marriage? Especially when you are trying to convince yourself that Sukuna would never want a relationship anyway.

No, you can't let yourself believe that you could have a future with Sukuna. This is just a stupid dream born out of your naivety, which your parents always warned you about.

And how could you even go about ending things with your husband? Sit him down and tell him it's over? But what then? What do you do when he just refuses to accept it?

Or should you just pack your bag and leave while he is at work, letting him return to an empty apartment and a goodbye letter on the kitchen table? But where would you go? To a hotel? You have no money. To your parents? You would feel so ashamed, and you fear their judgment. To a friend? You don't really have any friends anymore who you are close enough with to ask this of.

You sigh. None of it seems achievable. Not for you. You are too chicken to do any of it.

Your husband informs you that he will be gone for two days for a business trip, and you let out a breath of relief, happy about the freedom you feel when he is away and you have the apartment to yourself.

You open a bottle of wine, listen to your favorite playlist, and dance around the kitchen, almost able to convince yourself that things will be ok and you can just live a life feeling detached from the hurt your marriage causes you.

And then your iPad dies. You groan, quickly walking to the spare room you use as an office to grab your husband's laptop, only to get greeted by his e-mail inbox, where you see a booking confirmation for a romantic couple getaway for the next two days.

You stare at it wide-eyed. And then you sit down in a daze and go through the received and sent e-mails, only discovering more outrageous things. The escort girls your husband booked over the last year, the flowers he ordered for other women, while you never got any flowers from him in all your years married to him. The romantic getaways he booked anytime he claimed to go on business trips.

You can't even cry about it anymore. The sadness is replaced by cold rage. And by a strange feeling of resignation. You know you could show all of this to your mom and finally make her believe what you told her all this time. Finally, presenting her and everyone else with proof of how badly your husband treats you.

But even as you snap pictures of the e-mails, you realize you can't bring yourself to do it. And the infuriating thing about it is that it's not even because it causes you hurt, but because you still want to protect your husband. If you show your mom this, she will confront him and make a huge scene. And you don't want that to happen. Even after everything he did, you still are too much of a good girl to let him face the rage of your mom.

That's why you close the laptop again without doing anything. You make sure to put it back to where you found it.

But a different kind of conviction has settled over you. If your asshole of a husband can go on romantic getaways and sex meetings, you can allow yourself some fun, too, can't you?

It's not even that you plan to have sex when you text Sukuna. You just want to meet him for dinner or another trip to the museum. You just want to talk to him, and laugh with him and soak up the light feeling he gives you.

He calls you instead of texting back. Your heart races when you take the call, and Sukuna's velvety low voice fills your ear,

"I just came home from a big grocery haul. So how about instead of meeting at a restaurant, you come to my apartment, and I cook for you?"

You agree instantly.

+++

Unsurprisingly, Sukuna lives in one of the most expensive neighborhoods of the city. The luxurious apartment complex makes you feel nervous and a bit out of place. But that uneasiness slips from you the moment Sukuna opens his door and greets you with that sexy, teasing smirk and a playful little comment.

It's the first time you see Sukuna dressed casually. And it undeniably does something to you to see him in a pair of gray sweatpants and a rather snug-fitting white t-shirt that clings to his buff pecs and gives you a nice view of his muscular arms and more of his tattoos. You aren't sure what is more mouth-watering, the food that is simmering in one of the pots on Sukuna's stove or his big biceps that flex deliciously with every move.

Sukuna lifts you onto the kitchen counter, easily picking you up and setting you down as if you weigh nothing. A fact that makes you all flustered and sends your pulse racing, making you gratefully grab the wine glass Sukuna is offering you, so you can hide your face behind it and let the alcohol calm your nerves.

No man has ever cooked for you before, and watching Sukuna do it is one of the most attractive things you have ever witnessed. He is so sexy. Passionate and skilled, and still always taking time to playfully flirt with you or ask you to try one of his dishes, feeding you food from a spoon or from his fingers.

There is a special kind of electricity between you tonight. An almost touchable tension that makes your skin tingle anytime Sukuna brushes up against you.

His voice is husky when he tells you what ingredients he uses to marinate the roasted vegetables. And you can't help but let your tongue flick over his fingers when he pushes a slice of roasted zucchini against your lips.

Sukuna groans softly. Your breath hitches in your throat, and you look up at his tattooed face. You are met by a hungry glint in those beautiful maroon eyes that remind you of the wine Sukuna poured for you.

You are caught in Sukuna's intense gaze, unable to look away. Everything else seems to fade away.

And the next thing you know is that Sukuna is kissing you. Or maybe you were the one who pressed her lips against his first. You don't know. All you know is that you are kissing right here in Sukuna's kitchen while you sit on the kitchen counter, and he is standing between your legs. His large hands are cupping your cheeks and tilting your head back, and your hands are twisting in the front of his soft white t-shirt, pulling him closer to you as you sigh needily into his mouth.

Sukuna kisses you like you have never been kissed before. Passionate, fiery. Deep and sensual, making your head spin and your pulse flutter under Sukuna's hands.

You can't get enough of him and wrap your arms and legs around him as if you are scared he will vanish into thin air if you let go of him. You kiss him with a hunger unknown to you until now. Like a starving person being presented with a life-saving meal.

Sukuna's large hands trail down your sides, fingertips grazing over the sides of your breasts, eliciting a needy little whine from you, and further down until they reach your thighs. You are drunk on his kiss, drunk on him, melting under every little touch.

And Sukuna hums in the back of his throat and deepens the kiss even more. His large hands slip under you, cupping your ass, kneading it while he makes you moan around his tongue.

You have always been shy, but there is something about Sukuna and the way he makes you feel that makes you slip a hand under his t-shirt, feeling him up, greedily caressing his flexing abs, feeling dizzy at how good his firm muscles feel under your fingertips.

You both can't seem to stop kissing, both tumbling down further and further into this heated desire. You are faintly aware of Sukuna mumbling against your lips that the sauce needs to simmer for another hour anyway, and then he picks you up and lifts you easily off the kitchen counter while his lips claim yours again.

Sukuna carries you to his bedroom while never breaking the kiss, and you suck on his bottom lip and run your greedy hands through his soft pink hair and down his bulging biceps, wanting him so much that you think you will die if you don't get all of him tonight.

You sleep with Sukuna on his fancy bed, and it's nothing like it was with your husband. It's like you finally learn how sex is supposed to feel with a man who truly wants you.

Sukuna makes you feel wanted and desired, a feeling that is so new to you after all these years caught in a loveless marriage where your husband made you feel undesirable, unattractive, and like you would never be able to find anyone else with how your body looks and how lousy you are in bed.

But with Sukuna, it is completely different. You feel sexy here in his bed with the way he looks at you when he undresses you. And with the way he moans sweet praise in your ear before his lips and hands worship your body.

Sukuna is a real man. Experienced and confident, but so loving and patient with you when you get shy and tell him that you aren't very experienced and that your husband was disappointed in your skills in the bedroom.

At one point, you tense up, thinking Sukuna will get angry like your husband when you are clumsy during sex. But the opposite is the case. Sukuna is calm and gentle, talking to you in that sexy low voice, all soothing and sexy, telling you that it's ok and that you don't have to be scared or embarrassed.

He kisses you until your head spins and then asks you why you got so tense, asks you what you need. And you almost break out in tears, hugging him tightly, hiding your face in his defined pecs, inhaling his scent, and feeling so loved and so safe in his strong arms like never before.

"I just... I have only been with my husband, and he told me I am not good in bed. He always got mad at me when I didn't know how something worked. I am sorry if I am not what you are used to."

And you feel Sukuna's arms tightening around you, feel him tense up. But he isn't angry with you, only with your husband.

"That man is such a fool. Look at me, darling."

You lift your head off his chest and look at his tattooed face when he looks at you all earnestly,

"You are a beautiful woman, sexy and desirable, and I want to fuck you so good you forget your own name. Because that's what you deserve. And you don't have to be experienced or fuck like a pornstar. You are perfect the way you are, and you drive me crazy. And if you don't know how something works and you want to learn it, then I will teach you, and I promise I will be patient and gentle."

You nod wildly, feeling too emotional to speak, and instead press your body against Sukuna's and capture his lips in another needy kiss. You can feel his smile against your lips when he wraps his large hands around your waist and takes control.

Everything is so easy after that. No words are needed. Just hands and lips exploring each other's skin in heated caresses and bodies entangled in feverish passion. You let yourself fall, give yourself fully into Sukuna's loving hands. Let him take care of you like no one has ever done before.

He fucks you so good you cry.

All the years of feeling undesirable and not enough slip off you now that you are in Sukuna's bed under his gorgeous, tall, and heavy body, your nails leaving scratches on his broad back, hot tears of bliss streaming down your cheeks, and his name falling sweetly from your lips over and over again like a prayer.

It's like you are finally alive, like you are a flower that finally blooms after all these years.

+++

That first night in Sukuna's bed changed you profoundly.

You catch yourself smiling all day. There's a new bounce in your steps. You feel so much lighter. Your stomach is filled with butterflies as if you are a teenager again who has her first crush. Your chest feels so warm. You're filled with new hope. Maybe there is more to life and love than you thought, after all.

You feel like, for the first time, someone has really seen you. You weren't aware that sex like this existed in real life. That a man could make you fall apart like that. Sukuna fucked you in a way that was life-changing, making you feel like you gave him not just your body but also your soul.

And as passionate and nasty as the sex with Sukuna was, he made you feel respected the whole time. Adored. That is what makes you lose your mind anytime you think of it. You have been with your husband for so long, and yet even in the beginning, when the feelings were still fresh, he never made you feel adored or loved in bed. You didn't even know it until now, but he only ever made you feel used.

When your husband asks you for sex, you turn him down his time, telling him you aren't in the mood, and you don't even feel guilty for it.

You keep running back into Sukuna's strong arms over and over again. Into his bed, under his heavy body, where you feel loved and wanted. It's like he opened your eyes, and now you can see all those new colors that you only seem to be able to see with him.

+++

Your clandestine meetings continue for weeks. It surprises you to see winter turn into spring, and yet Sukuna is still texting you, inviting you to more dinner dates and to more intimate meetings in his bedroom. You always assumed he would end your little affair before things became too serious.

But somehow, he is still in your life, reserving his Wednesday evenings for you, buying you roses, and taking you to the best restaurants in the city.

One night, you sit up in his bed on the ruffled silk sheets and bite your lip as you let your gaze trail over Sukuna's naked body. His tattooed skin, his buff muscles, his beautiful silhouette. And you blurt out,

"Why do you keep seeing me?"

It's what you have been asking yourself from the start. What does Sukuna see in you? You are mediocre in every way. Average looks, no real talents, and no impressive career. A wife who got neglected by her husband because she wasn't good enough in his eyes. A woman in her thirties, who was replaced by a younger, more attractive version.

Sukuna, on the other hand, is gorgeous, powerful and rich, and his age only makes him more attractive. He could have anyone.

Sukuna hums softly and turns onto his side, lifting his head to watch you with curious maroon eyes.

"What do you mean, darling?"

You avert your gaze, sighing, bringing up your hands in a helpless little gesture,

"I... I mean, you are you, and I am me. And I just don't understand what you see in me."

Now, the noise Sukuna makes sounds a bit like a growl. You feel stupid for saying anything, already about to scramble out of his bed and flee before you make an even bigger fool of yourself. But you don't make it out of bed. Sukuna's strong arms wrap around you and stop you. He pulls you back into his arms and against his solid, broad chest.

"Don't belittle yourself like that. I keep asking to see you because I want to. Because I like spending time with you. You are so sweet. You make me feel so warm when I have always felt so cold."

His words hit you like a truck. You blink rapidly, your eyelashes fluttering against Sukuna's chest.

"R... really?"

He huffs softly, letting out a low chuckle as his large hand pets your hair,

"Yes, really. I used to only have one-night stands or casual flings. Just sex and nothing more. I used to think that was all I needed. But you showed me something different. Hell, I've never spent so much time with a woman before I slept with her for the first time. And I enjoyed every second of it! I like spending time with you to talk and laugh with you and just have this companionship. You make me feel like maybe I am not that cold-hearted asshole I always thought I was."

You gulp hard, tears filling your eyes. But this time, happy ones. You sniffle against Sukuna's naked chest and press a tender kiss to his tattooed skin.

"You are so sweet, Sukuna."

He laughs softly, and you can feel it against your cheek, a low rumble, where your face is resting on his chest,

"You are the first one who told me I am sweet. Are you sure?"

Now, you laugh softly, too. The insecurity you felt a moment ago forgotten,

"Yes, 100% sure. No one has ever treated me as sweet as you."

"It's what you deserve. You are so sweet that I want to be sweet for you, too. And..."

Sukuna's large hands tighten around your hips, and he flips you over. He rolls on top of you, covering you whole with his tall, broad body. His lips find your neck, trailing little kisses over it, his low voice a seductive murmur in your ear,

"You're not just sweet, but also beautiful and sexy, and you make me laugh, and I want to take you places and cook for you and also want to keep you on my cock all night and feel you squeeze around me and hear you cry my name."

Sukuna grinds his hips against you, pushing you into the mattress, taking you with one powerful, deep thrust for the second time tonight. You gasp and cling to his broad shoulders, your legs wrapping around his hips, welcoming him, craving him, needing him.

He takes it slow. Slow, deep thrusts, his forehead resting against yours, his low voice moaning sweet nothings in between deep, sensual kisses.

It's then that you realize that Sukuna is doing what no one else ever did to you. Sukuna is making love to you.

And you cry hot tears, drowning in his love and his body and everything he gives you. Your nails leave scratches on his broad back, your heels dig into his firm ass, as you throw your head back and cry out his name in the sweetest ecstasy.

He holds you afterward, lies behind you, and wraps his tall, strong body around you. He hugs you with his strong arms and nuzzles his face into your neck, breathing kisses onto your skin, not letting go of you, taking care of you, cuddling you. Something you also never had before. A man who is willingly holding you like that for hours after he came in you.

You sigh happily, still in a daze. The occasional tear still runs down your cheek as you snuggle against Sukuna's muscular body, and your hands caress his tattooed forearms tenderly. You never want to leave his arms again. You want to stay right here.

As if reading your mind, Sukuna's low voice murmurs against your skin again,

"I mean it, darling. I like having you in my life. So much that I want you in it all the time."

One of his large hands caresses your belly, so tender, so loving, sending butterflies fluttering in it like crazy. And Sukuna breathes in your ear,

"Be mine."

You draw in a sharp breath and turn around in Sukuna's arms, cupping his face with your hands as you kiss him, long and sweet, and in between kisses, you murmur against his lips,

"I am already yours."

You know it is the truth. Even though you are still married to another man, even though you are still living with your husband, you are Sukuna's woman now. You suspect you have been Sukuna's woman for several months already, long before you allowed yourself to admit it out loud.

+++

Two hours later, you are buttoning up your coat, about to leave Sukuna's apartment and the sweet bliss of his arms and return to your cold, loveless marriage, and your lonely apartment, when Sukuna stops in front of you. He reaches out, wordlessly helping you with the buttons, dominant in such a caring way, and somehow, that small loving gesture makes your lips tremble as you are overcome by emotions.

He is so good to you. Such a giant of a man, so tall and broad and powerful. And yet, he treats you so gently. Large hands buttoning up your coat for you. The hands that also cook Michelin-star-worthy meals for you, or wash your hair in his luxurious bathtub. The hands that make you see stars when they finger you oh so good. The hands that caress your cheek tenderly and brush your tears away with so much care. Hands that give to you over and over again. A hundred little acts of service that this powerful man gives to you.

"Sukuna, I..."

You trail off, not able to put into words what you want to say to him. How much he means to you. How much you want him. How he made you believe in love again. How much you crave to leave your old life behind and start over new with Sukuna even though you are so scared of change.

Before you can say any of it, Sukuna grabs your wrists, takes them firmly but gently into his larger hands, and looks at you intensely.

"Leave that asshole. He doesn't deserve you, princess. If a man can't see what he has in you, then he is trash. Don't be scared. I can take much better care of you than him. I'll fuck you good and make you only cry happy tears. I will appreciate you like you deserve. I will love you like you deserve. I will ensure you always have everything you need. I have money, and I can protect you. Tell me, darling, who would you feel safer with waking through the city in the middle of the night? That joke of a man or me?"

Of course, you know the answer.

"I love you, Sukuna."

"I love you, too."

His strong arms wrap around you and pull you into a hug, and you nuzzle your face into his chest, inhaling the comforting scent of his cologne. And finally, here in the safety of Sukuna's embrace, you say those words you have been too scared to say until now,

"I will leave him. I want to be with you. Only with you, Kuna."

You can hear the smile in Sukuna's voice when he replies,

"I'll help you, sweetheart. I have one of the best lawyers in the whole country. I'll call him tomorrow to prepare the divorce papers. I'll take care of everything for you."

Sukuna cups the back of your head and leans down to kiss your forehead gently, reassuringly. He looks at you with that boyish grin you fell in love with and adds in a playful and husky voice,

"And once all of this is dealt with, I will make you my wife."

He takes your left hand into his, turning it around, inspecting the wedding ring you are still wearing, scrunching his nose at it,

"And I'll give you a much prettier ring."

+++

You let the door fall softly shut behind you one last time as you walk out of the apartment you had been sharing with your husband for over a decade. A smile lifts your lips. You are glad to close this chapter of your life.

You know that a braver woman would have left her husband sooner, would have moved out, or kicked him out the moment she found out he was cheating on her. Maybe even sooner, when she realized she was unhappy in that marriage. But you aren't brave. You have always been full of self-doubts and fears. Too ashamed to crawl back to your parents and admit that you hadn't been strong enough to endure your marriage. Too scared that you would never recover from the financial loss of the divorce. Too insecure to believe you could ever make it on your own.

But now you have Sukuna. And the fall doesn't seem so high anymore. You know Sukuna will catch you in his strong arms. He won't let you crash to the ground.

In the end, you think it doesn't matter how you got out of that unhappy marriage and into this loving relationship. All that matters is that you got a second chance to learn how love is supposed to be.

And it still takes bravery to leave your husband and walk into Sukuna's arms. To close the door of your marriage and open the one that leads to the man who came into your life as an illicit affair but has become your one and only.

OH SUKUNA, I NEED YOU 😭😭💗💗 He really took one look at Reader having her breakdown in that restaurant and was like, "I will steal that woman from that loser and give her what she deserves." Thank you, Kuna baby ;)

Thank you so much if you read the whole thing! This story became much longer than I thought, but the words wouldn't stop flowing out of me because this story made me so happy. I hope it could give some of you the same feeling.

I often see posts/articles that victim-blame the women who don't have the courage to leave an unhappy marriage, so I wanted to write something where Reader isn't a strong, independent woman but someone who needs a little encouragement and lots of love from a man like Kuna before she dares make the decision to leave her husband. She deserves all the happiness!

I hope you enjoyed the story and maybe fell a little in love with this version of Sukuna, too 💗

Comments and reblogs would be very sweet.

#sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna #sukuna smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #sukuna fluff #ryomen sukuna #jjk x you #jjk fluff #sukuna x y/n #jjk x y/n #tw cheating

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icekkeugf · 3 months ago

Text

Make you feel it, Yang Jungwon (18+)

Pairing: Younger!Jungwon x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Jungwon confronts your dismissal of his unsaid yet obvious feelings and somehow, you let him lure you into your own bed.

Genre: Smut, Best friends to ???

Heads up: Unspecified age gap between Jungwon and the reader-no weird business though, Jungwon calls the reader “Noona”, the reader is drunk but still conscious of her decisions, softdom!Jungwon, making out, one tiny slap, unprotected sex (don't do that maybe), hair pulling, creampie, multiple rounds implied

Wordcount: 3,490 words

Author's note: I might have tried a little with this one. I have been wanting to contribute to the Enhablr community again. So, here's something for the Jungwon lovers :-) Hope you enjoy this, I would absolutely love feedback or constructive criticism. Happy reading ♥︎

He's in far too deep. Deep in love with you.

Maybe, not so much. He convinces himself, though he's not entirely sure.

It's insane, really, how the tick in his jaw only relaxes when you assure him that the man beside you means no harm—has no romantic inclination towards you, rightfully so, as your cousin. A casual arm of his slung around your shoulder that borders no thoughts of personal space, it took everything—and, I do mean everything—in Jungwon to not yank your cousin off of you without further clarification upon first sight.

However, he is momentarily distracted by how the fairy lights perched upon the front door glare lovingly with their yellowed tint at you, almost as if it was meant to luminate only your presence. He thinks the fairy lights are mocking him and his reluctance to admit his feelings, a scoff barely slipping past his tongue when the lights continue to taunt him with a ridiculously focused glint on your form as you hold up your half-conscious cousin from succumbing to sleep with a thud, right here, on your porch.

Jungwon is tense when you poke a finger at his bicep, a brow scrunched up with a tinge of amusement breaking through when you tease him for being just as much of a handful as your cousin. It's insulting, how you liken him to another man, as if he was just as incapable, but, he lets it pass for now, a sigh exiting his lips when his eyes drop down to your cheeks, flushed enough to tell him that you're under the influence as well.

Without as much as a word spoken to you, Jungwon leans over to pull at your cousin, scooping the man in one arm and pushing his limp body in, only letting him rest when he gets to the couch situated in the living room. The sound of unsteady shuffling and a hiccup from you has him turning around, the same bubbly feeling from earlier returning to play tricks at him. "Noona, are you okay?" It's finally time for him to open his mouth, eyes scrutinizing your every move and finally deeming you unfit when you stagger towards him, falling into his chest head first with a giggle. "Mhm, I am okay, not too drunk."

Liar.

He almost sighs again but stops when his hand unconsciously lifts to linger above your head. It drops as soon as he realises, instead finding the curve of your waist to hold you up. Jungwon steadies you in less than a second, allowing your lower half to lean completely onto his hip with a nudge. "Noona..." He calls, softly, a honeyed voice dripping into your ears almost too smoothly, it has you wondering if he always sounded this sweet, almost...desperate. You wonder if he gets like this only around you. "Hm?" You peek an eye at the man, lips twitching and breaking into a smile.

"Oh, what will you ever do without me?" He hoists you up, just a little so that you're balancing on your feet. The curl of one end of his lips has you biting yours. There he is, you think. "You're right, what would Noona ever do without you, Wonnie?" You mumble, lips parting enough to sip at the water he graciously offers, a hand still around your waist. It's intimate. You realise. Normally, you'd keep Jungwon at bay, boundaries drawn very clearly to verify that friendship is what you two have. Tonight, though, things are different. Your head feels heavy, bearing a separate weight of its own, and your feet feel light, as if it's not carrying the rest of your body. There's a fuzzy feeling in your chest and a lopsided glance at Jungwon only makes things worse.

When did he get so pretty? You wonder. No, he's always been pretty, you reason. Sparkly eyes that watch you carefully, a brow cocking up to decipher your behaviour and his plump, coral lips parting, providing you just a sliver of his tongue that darts to lick a sheen of saliva at his bottom lip. It's only then that you catch yourself midair, fingers gently hovering above Jungwon's cheeks.

Oh.

One step, two and then, finally, three. You back away, putting reasonable distance between you two, only to have worked in vain when Jungwon closes the distance. It's a sudden but welcome change when you feel yourself sobering up, the air around you two palpable, crackling with tension. "Did you ever consider me a man, Noona?" His question is quiet, it has you looking into his eyes in momentary confusion before your eyes flit away. You're caught, red-handed. "What does that mean? Of course, I do..." You mumble, feigning an aching head with your thumb and pointer finger working in tandem at your temple.

"Do you really?" He takes another impossible step closer to you. "Look at me, Noona." His words, coming out in an unfamiliar gravel, make your knees weak, and, suddenly, you're aware of being present with him as if he ties you to the reality you're in. You visibly hesitate, it ticks him off, though he chooses not to express it. You watch him quietly with pieces of your hair framing the peripheral of your vision. "I do, Jungwon." You assure him, but really, you wonder if you're convincing him when your fingers twiddle in front of you, scrunching your brows together.

He scoffs, tongue poking inside at his cheek. The audacity to lie, to consciously choose to deceive him even while you're borderline drunk—it upsets him as much as it angers him. Jungwon can't believe that you muster the strength to keep yourself in control in an inebriated state of mind. But, you notice it before he does, as always, that one vein in his temple protruding, as if warning you to tread lightly. You want to say something, anything, to ease him up, ask him where all of this is coming from. As if you don't know.

No, you really don't, you think. It's not like you watch Jungwon round the corner of your residence from the gap between your curtains, through the window, when he appears to be nervous about approaching your front door even after being your friend for four long years. It's not like you know just how much Jungwon loves Marvel but continues to geek about Studio Ghibli with you instead just because you like it better. It's not like you notice Jungwon chowing down on dry, undercooked ramen at 2 in the morning, with you, when really, he likes his noodles cooked perfectly with enough broth. It's not like you realise that Jungwon's university is a 30-minute detour from your office and yet, he insists on dropping you off every morning, citing the unsafety of public transport as the reason.

"Noona, you're really bad at this. This game you're playing," You exhale quietly, hoping it would ease the clogged up tension in your chest. He leans down, just enough to not hurt your neck from looking up at him for too long. His hand at your waist, previously anchoring you, now applies a tad bit of pressure, urging you to back up against the nearest wall. Dizzy eyes blink up at him deliberately but he refuses to let it crumble his resolve.

You feel it now, more intense than ever. Maybe it's the many drinks from earlier but your heartbeat increases, getting louder and reverberating in your eardrums. You can tell that Jungwon is barely managing to keep himself in check if the way his eyes narrow down at you and the way his grip on your waist gets cruel are anything to go by.

You've kept it hidden all these years. Locking your feelings away in that tiny part of your mind, shoving it down the back of your subconscious. It wasn't meant to come down to this, have you caged in between a wall and Jungwon in your living room. A finger interrupts you, grazing your chin with utmost affection, so softly that you'd think a rougher brush of his finger could cut you. Against your better judgement, you lean into his touch, Jungwon raises a brow at this. “Nothing to say for yourself?”

You abandon all reason, the logic behind your behaviour all these years fading into a carnal need that you kept under covers, prompting your fingers to hook onto the hem of his tee. Grabbing at it, you hope he gets the message. Not really, no, you assume when his brow cocks further up, almost criticising you, telling you you’re making a fool of yourself. As if you've been burned, you retract your fingers quickly but Jungwon doesn't appreciate this.

“Who said you could do that?” He pulls you flush against him, “Asking for something and then taking it back. You're really stupid when it comes to men, Noona.” His words are laced with faux disapproval. He clicks his tongue, shaking his head at you. “This won't do.” You're about to ask what he means by that but he's already pulling at your wrist, making a beeline towards your bedroom.

You want to say you're surprised when he slams your door, lining you up by the door frame when you're both inside. You are surprised, though, when Jungwon presses himself up against you, hot breath fanning across your face and lips converging into one before you can process anything. You let out a muffled gasp, eliciting a groan from him, thighs pressing together to ward off potential arousal.

Jungwon dislikes the action, a knee of his prying some space between your thighs, lifting up and weighing at your centre to make its presence really known. You're oblivious to all this though, mind reeling at the sharp nip of his teeth at your lower lip, a warning, if you like.

You comply, allowing him to take you as he pleases, it's the least you can do after all you've put him through, right? Licking his way into your mouth, his hands wander down your body, finally settling at your hips, the pads of his fingers making indents on your skin. You don't know what it is, but something tugs at your heart. All this while, you might as well have made this up in your mind. But, Jungwon's fingers, unlike his lips that are relentless and making a statement on yours, are gentle, it reminds you that he is here, holding you, making you his.

Jungwon, taunting you, pulls away, not without his thumb wiping at your lips absentmindedly. You tasted just like he imagined, if not better, the dried lip tint sweet on you, smudging onto his as well. Glossy with his spit coating your lips, your teeth pull at it, a quiet whine full of complaints directed at a teasing Jungwon. “What? Now you're begging for a taste of me. Isn’t that right, Noona?” He tilts his head to the side, pushing you to do something, if not say something.

With a grab of his collar, you pull him towards you quickly, it amuses him. “Shut up and kiss me.” You manage to speak for the first time in a while, “Whatever you say, Noona.” Jungwon obliges with your demands, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. Assuming the lead, your tongue prods at his teeth which takes him by surprise, allowing you to walk him backwards till his calves hit one of the bedposts.

“Aren't you eager?” He speaks into your mouth, not allowing you leverage over him by flipping your positions so that now you're the one closest to the bed. “That's unfair, Noona. After you've played with me so much…” His thumb caresses your cheek as if preparing you for something. “You don't get to enjoy this so easily.” The building high quickly wears off, his words serving as a caution.

Jungwon looks down at you and with a nudge of his hand to your shoulder, you lose balance, falling onto the mattress with a bounce. The boy settles onto the bed with a knee guarding both thighs at the sides. Finding your cheek once again, he tips your chin upwards, eyes locking with a breathy gasp from you. “Jungwon…” You trap him with a circle of your thighs around his hips, calves hanging loosely off the bed.

He humours you, just this once, he tells himself. “What is it?” He pries, thumbing onto your jaw, pressing you to answer him. “Please.” You state, searching his eyes. Jungwon barely allows you a glimpse of his toothy grin before he's maneuvering you onto your knees. You understand just what he wants, as you always do when it comes to him, turning around to pucker your behind, arching your back by the slightest to tempt him, as if he's not already deep in the trenches knowing you're under him, so pliant and inviting.

Just for him.

The thoughts have his sweatpants constricting around the visible tent between his legs. Jungwon lets pass a throaty groan at this, fighting the urge to rut himself onto the edge of your bed. No, he can't have that, not when he already has you exactly where he needs you. He doesn't think twice before asking you to strip, shimmying his clothes off and grabbing a handful of your butt to grope at while you clumsily tug at your tank top.

With a needy whine, you push your ass towards him, throwing him a desperate look over your shoulder just for you to get needier at the sight of his bare torso. You can't make out much of him, your room bathed in the dark and only a singular ray of lantern by your porch penetrating your window. “Fuck, Noona.” There's a sharp sound of something smacking and it takes you a moment to register that Jungwon's palm had just struck your ass. You don't feel the pain, if anything, the impact has you doubling forward, panties possibly soaked through with a gush of your pathetic arousal pouring out.

“Look at you, sprawled out for me like this. Didn't think my pretty little Noona was into this. You're sick. Pathetic even. ” As if to make a point, he runs a knowing finger down the middle of your panties. The fabric does anything but cover you, he notes, moulding itself to your pussy by the way it's damp. The sticky feeling it provides rips a moan out of you and Jungwon decides that he's had enough. He would quite literally pass out if he didn't bury himself into your heat within the next minute.

Pushing the slit of your panties to the side, he eases a thumb into the rim of your hole, toying there for a second before rubbing languid circles at your bud. He wanted to make you work for it, he did but his cock is twitching, crying for him to envelope it in your cunt. He promises himself to teach you a lesson next time, lining his bulbous tip up against your hole. The view is nothing like he had imagined every other night, fucking his fist at the thought of having you to him. Your pussy is divine, he concludes, drops of your juices beading at your lips, it's like you already creamed yourself once before he could get you to do so himself.

You're about to complain, eyes misty and curious about the hold-up but it's like Jungwon reads your mind, pushing at his boxers so that the fat head of his cock finally tastes you squeezing around him. It's painful how you clench around just his tip, he has to grit his teeth, kneading the flesh of your ass lovingly though he itches to deliver another smack to it, “Breathe, baby, I got you.” He mutters, bullying his way into you when you seemingly adjust to him. You cry with a start when he fastens your wrists behind you, holding it in one hand while the other deceives you for a second when it hovers above your hair softly. It's the next second when the same hand finds itself fisting around your strands and pulling you up.

Flush against him now, his cock lodges itself completely into you, filling you in a way you've never been before. “Oh, fuck—too full…” You manage to sputter, chest heaving although he's doing all the work. The angle he's nestled into you is mind-numbing, it has you dumb and thinking of nothing but the feel of his cock, your insides committing every trace of his vein to memory. You just know you'll be recollecting this for a while when you need that extra push when stressed. “Yeah? Full of me, aren't you? Does it feel good, baby?” He must be insane, you think, to ask you something so obvious.

“So, so good. Jungwon!” You attempt to say more but you can't think of any way to put how he's making you feel in words. You repeat the same with a shriek and it has him biting back a laugh, “So fucking dumb. Dumb on my cock, aren't you, Noona?” The hand in your hair makes its presence aware with another tug, positioning your shoulder to his lips and Jungwon takes the opportunity to sink his canines into your skin. His cock is merciless, ramming into you with powerful, rhythmic thrusts that force you forward every time he sinks into your heat again.

There's a familiar feeling creeping up your back, the muscles in your lower abdomen flexing and relaxing once in a while and your thighs part further, as if welcoming more of him into you. One particularly sharp rut of his hips has his pelvis slamming into yours and his cock seems to find a different angle to fuck itself into, massaging the one spot that has your toes curling and lips parting in a silent scream. “Is that it, Noona? Fuck, you're clenching around me so good. Fucking hell—” He pauses momentarily, lifting a thigh of yours higher around his hips to gain better access to you.

Resuming his ministrations, Jungwon assumes a bruising grip on your wrists. “That's it, Wonnie, just there! Gonna come!” You warn, pushing yourself onto his length, rolling your hips. “Let go, baby, just like that, fuck yourself onto me.” It isn't long before you're spasming around him, eyes shutting tightly and walls clamping around his cock as you ride your high. Jungwon is teetering on the edge of his orgasm too, muffling himself into your neck with a bite of your flesh as he fucks his release into your inviting hole. He meant to pull out, but he couldn't deny himself the pleasure of coming in your tight pussy. He's not in the least apologetic, continuing to sheathe himself in your shared cum with slow, controlled thrusts.

You can't help but wince, sensitivity quickly making itself apparent when he shows no signs of stopping. Jungwon shushes you though, basking in the glow of his well-deserved orgasm. He reluctantly pulls out, holding you up just in case. “Wait a minute, Noona.” He speaks quietly, letting you find your balance while he retrieves a washcloth damp enough to clean you up. His touch is gentle, reassuring you at this moment, that you're in this together, it wasn't a lapse in judgement. At least not for him.

“Wonnie?” Your palm cups his jaw, moving to face him while he kneels by the bed. “Did you really mean what you said and what you did?” Jungwon is quick to nod his head and you surge forward to embrace him with a composed poise. “I didn't mean to do it this way. Though, I don't regret this in the slightest—it just wasn't the best way to bring up the way I was feeling. I think I was sick of you treating me like I was just like other men.” He pauses, “I really like you, Noona.” He finally confesses.

You don't know what this means for you two, you don't know how you feel about this just yet. But, you do know that you're willing to figure it out, with him, preferably. So, you tell him so, pulling him under the covers when he nods and his lips twitch into a grin. “You still have to make up for all you put me through.” Jungwon reminds you, brows quirking up teasingly. “Will this suffice?” You ask, mischievous hands feeling him down and finding his half-softened cock, surprising him with a jolt. “Oh, you're a fast learner.” He coos, shuffling you around until you're securely on top of him.

You find yourself tangled in sheets with Jungwon all night, showing him, in multiple ways and positions, just how much you're willing to do to make it up to him. What you fail to remember is your now not so passed out cousin in the living room, who has to bear the torture of crashing at your place.

#jungwon smut #jungwon x reader #jungwon hard thoughts #jungwon hard hours #enhypen smut #enhypen x reader #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen hard hours #yang jungwon

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rose24207 · 4 months ago

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Prompt “we should not have split up” with mafia lando?

On your own

Summary: Kidnapped after a fight, you learn the hard way—leaving Lando after a fight was a mistake.

Genre: Mafia, dark

Mafia!Lando x reader

TW: Mafia, guns, kidnapping, shooting, fighting

A/N: I’m alive dw! English is not my first language. I hope you enjoy it though! Requests are open and welcome!

Masterlist pt.2

The air was thick with tension, the kind that seeped into your bones and made your skin prickle. The dimly lit warehouse smelled of damp concrete and motor oil, the faint flickering of a faulty overhead light casting eerie shadows across the space. Your wrists ached from the rough rope binding them behind your back, the sharp bite of the restraints cutting into your skin.

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

You and Lando had fought—again.

You had spent the past year at his side, not just as his lover but as his confidante, his equal in the world he ruled with an iron grip. But Lando had always been overprotective, always acting as if you were fragile, incapable of handling yourself. It had been a minor argument at first—about a meeting, about territory, about how you weren’t a liability. You had told him you could handle yourself, and in the heat of the moment, you made a reckless decision.

You left on your own.

And now you were paying the price.

The man across from you—Matteo Ricci, a rival boss Lando had crossed one too many times—grinned as he crouched in front of you. He was older, seasoned, with deep scars that ran down the side of his cheek, souvenirs from a life spent in violence.

"You should have stayed by Norris' side, cara," Matteo mused, rolling a knife between his fingers. "But I suppose this works just as well. He’ll come for you. He always does. And when he does…" He smirked. "He’ll be walking into a trap."

Your stomach twisted. You knew Lando would come. He wouldn’t stop until he found you, and that was exactly what Matteo was counting on.

The sound of a car screeching to a stop outside sent Matteo’s men scrambling. They pulled out their weapons, fingers tight on the triggers, as heavy boots thundered against the pavement.

Then, silence.

A deadly, suffocating silence.

You knew that silence.

And so did Matteo. His expression faltered for the first time, his hand tightening around the knife. “He’s here.”

The lights above flickered once. Then the warehouse was plunged into darkness.

A gunshot rang out. Then another.

Screams followed, cut off as quickly as they started. Bodies hit the ground with dull thuds, the unmistakable sound of a silencer making it clear that Lando had come prepared.

You swallowed, pulse pounding.

The next thing you knew, a hand was gripping your chin, forcing you to look up.

Lando.

His face was a storm of emotions—anger, relief, fury, love. His normally bright blue eyes were dark, almost black in the dim lighting, his jaw clenched so tightly you thought he might break his own teeth. Blood stained his knuckles, splattered across the crisp black suit he wore.

“You,” he seethed, his voice dangerously low, “should not have left.”

Before you could answer, his knife was out, slicing through the ropes around your wrists in one swift motion. As soon as you were free, he yanked you up, pressing your body against his. His grip was bruising, his breath hot against your temple.

"You could have died," he growled.

"But I didn't," you whispered.

His fingers dug into your waist. "Because I got here in time. Do you have any idea what I was thinking when I found out you were missing?"

A lump formed in your throat. "Lando—"

"No." He pulled back just enough to cup your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek. "We should not have split up."

You exhaled shakily, feeling the weight of those words. He was right. You had been reckless, stubborn. And now?

Now, you understood.

"I'm sorry," you murmured.

His lips crashed against yours—desperate, angry, possessive. His hands gripped you like he was afraid you’d disappear, like he was grounding himself in the taste of you.

When he finally pulled back, his breath was ragged. "You’re never leaving my side again."

It wasn't a request.

And for once, you didn’t argue.

Thank you for reading!

Taglist: @ipushhimback, @ladyoflynx, @lewishamiltonismybf, @cmleitora, @hmma3 , @same1995, @amatswimming, @llando4norris, @dr3wstarkey, @hurtblossom

#lando norris #lando x reader #fluff #lando imagine #lando x you #f1 #angst #formula one #formula 1 #mafia!lando #f1 x female reader #f1 x y/n #formula one x reader #formula 1 x reader #lando angst #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x reader #lando x y/n

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fear-is-truth · 6 months ago

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how do you think patrick will react when you try to break things off with him?

breaking up with patrick bateman .ᐟ.ᐟ

tw ; mentions of drug use, homicide

a/n: apologies for the word salad.. my brain is kinda fried from my classes. also he’s such a pretty crier

𝜗ϱ ┆ denial & gaslighting

his immediate reaction would likely be disbelief. the idea of someone rejecting him, particularly someone he views as an extension of his life, would be incomprehensible to him. this disbelief would manifest as condescension and dismissal, accompanied by gaslighting.

“you’re leaving me?” he’d say with a strained smile, eyes narrowing to slits. “that’s ridiculous. you don’t mean that.”

patrick wouldn’t process the emotional weight of your decision, instead assuming that you’re acting irrationally or that something external has influenced you. his need to maintain control would drive him to undermine your perspective, likely accusing you of being under the influence of drugs.

“have you been doing too much cocaine? or maybe those diet pills? you’re not thinking clearly, darling.”

this gaslighting would be less about convincing you and more about reinforcing his own denial. patrick lives in a world where his perception is reality, and your decision to leave disrupts that. denial is his first line of defense.

𝜗ϱ ┆ manipulation & desperation

as the conversation continues, patrick would pivot to emotional manipulation. while he lacks true empathy, he is an expert at imitating emotional responses to “fit in”. he’d beg you to reconsider, framing his argument that appeals to your sense of loyalty or guilt.

“think about everything i’ve done for you. everything we’ve had together. you can’t just walk away.”

if manipulation doesn’t work, his desperation would become more overt. while patrick is typically composed, cracks in his facade could begin to show. you might see a flash of raw panic in his eyes.

“you don’t know what you’re doing. you’re making a mistake.”

𝜗ϱ ┆ begging

patrick would eventually resort to begging, and this is where the irony comes in—remember the time he dumped evelyn with an air of theatrical superiority, telling her that she’s “simply not terribly important” to him.

“you can’t do this to me. please, don’t go. we can work this out—whatever this is, we can fix it. i’ll change.”

of course, he is incapable of real change, and his promises would ring hollow. but the desperation in his voice would feel oddly genuine.

𝜗ϱ ┆“i need to return some videotapes.”

when it becomes clear that he can’t sway you, patrick would retreat, unwilling to let you witness the full extent of his unraveling. maintaining appearances is critical, even in moments of personal crisis. with a curt, almost robotic tone, he’d excuse himself with his signature non sequitur:

“i need to return some videotapes.”

this statement, bizarre and out of place, serves two purposes. first, it allows him to escape the confrontation without completely breaking down in front of you. second, it reaffirms his facade of control.

𝜗ϱ ┆ private despair

once alone, patrick would no longer be able to hold himself together. the breakup would be a complete fracturing of his identity. while he outwardly projects confidence, his inner world is fragile and deeply insecure. your rejection would strip away the validation he relies on to maintain his ego. he’d cry—silent, bitter tears of frustration and humiliation.

𝜗ϱ ┆ homicide as a coping mechanism

but patrick is incapable of processing emotions in a healthy way, so the tears wouldn’t lead to introspection or change. instead, they’d fuel a darker spiral—he’d channel his feelings of loss into compulsive, destructive behaviour. violence is often an outlet for him, and your departure could serve as a catalyst for a spree of homicidal acts. (e.g killing homeless people)

#american psycho #patrick bateman x reader #patrick bateman #patrick bateman x you #patrick bateman fanfic #slasher x reader #slasher headcanons #slasher x y/n #slasher x s/o #slasher fanfic #slasher fanfiction #christian bale x reader

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msfantasy-comics · 6 months ago

Text

The Ex gets Married

Bruce Wayne x Ex-Girlfriend!Reader

Summary: Bruce breaks up with Y/n and ends up in a tumultuous relationship with Selina. Bruce finds out about his ex-girlfriend moving on and is heartbroken.

Warning: Bruce does not have a happy ending.

Navigation

Many years before, Bruce, had to make a life altering decision.

Should he follow his head or his heart?

He loved both Selina and Y/n dearly for very different reasons.

But there was no use pondering the decision further. Selina was a safe bet.

Selina, whilst fickle, was still a woman capable of handling the rough and tough life style that accompanied his alter-ego. Selina’s life parallels his own; their secret life, their deep rooted trauma, their years of personal growth together.

When considering these factors, it was indisputable, he had to follow his head, and in the end he got exactly what he asked for.

An unbridled romantic companion that was only ever present when it suited her.

Selina was never consistent in supporting Bruce. Only being present at the worst of times, and never being available to celebrate the best of times.

Selina was incapable of bonding with his sons. It’s not like she didn’t try, the boys were just utterly disinterested in bonding with a woman who seemed to sail in and out of Bruce’s life on a whim. Dick, Jason, Tim and Damian felt Selina was not going to be around long, so they always turned her down or avoided Selina when possible.

Selina was uncomfortable with the mundane. Drama followed her where ever she went. Her constant blow outs strains Bruce beyond measure.

As usual, Bruce retreats to his cold and lonely bed. It’s been weeks since he last heard from Selina. He stares at the ceiling and wonders what his life could’ve been like had he followed his heart.

You were always the first to hold Bruce and comfort him in his times of need. You were always pushing to celebrate ridiculous milestones and insisting it was important since it was an achievement.

You put in so much effort bonding with his sons. You’d spent days in Bludhaven, looking after Dick in hospital when no one else could. You drove to Jason’s favourite dive bar, drank beer with him every Friday. You attended all of Tim’s extracurricular events. You would drink tea with Damian and listen to him vent his frustrations with his teammates.

Better yet, you were always in bed waiting for him. Arms always spreading open, ready to embrace him after a difficult night out.

Bruce missed you dearly, but he knows he made the right decision. Selina was capable of protecting herself- you weren’t.

Bruce constantly reminds himself of that time Joker almost took your life as you helplessly dangled from the building. Your survival from that encounter was pure luck. If Bruce wasn’t your boyfriend, you would’ve been safe.

So, Bruce made the right decision following his head. Following his heart would’ve brought nothing but heartache.

The house seemed unusually quite. There was no noise, no movement. He hasn’t heard anything from anyone.

“Alfred, where are the boys?” The older gentlemen continues to assemble the cucumber sandwiches, pretending he didn’t hear a single word. “Alfred?” The older man sighs as he contemplates telling the truth, to honouring the lie fabricated by the boys. At last, Alfred opts for the ugly truth.

“The young masters are attending a wedding ceremony.” Alfred answers bluntly, unwilling to be the barer of bad news.

“A wedding ceremony? Who’s wedding is it?” Alfred places the plate in front of Bruce, continuing to avoid eye contact. “Alfred, answer the question.”

He sighs as he pours a glass of water. “John Constantines wedding.”

Confusion crosses Bruce as to why his sons are attending that man’s wedding. “I didn’t know he had a significant other, who is he marrying?”

Alfred looks off to the clock as Bruce waits impatiently for the long drawn out answer. The clock strikes twelve, which floods the house with a melody to notify half the day has passed. Finally, Alfred speaks. “As of 12’oclock John Constantine has married his beloved wife Y/n Constantine.”

All colour in Bruce’s face drains, his mouth goes dry and he’s not sure if his heart is beating. “Y/n… she’s married?” Alfred nods unsympathetically.

“The women you love has married someone that isn’t you.” Alfred’s words rubs salt in Bruce’s already wounded heart. “Incase you were wondering Master Bruce… Selina Kyle had introduced the two around the time you had broken up.” Bruce’s head turns to mush at the news.

It’s not like he intended to get back together with you or anything- so why is he so upset?

Of course you would move on eventually, he knew that. That’s just common sense. Why would you be single for the rest of your life?

Yet despite all common sense Bruce’s heart continues to squeeze painfully, his head thumping away as a growing migraine takes place.

The love of his life has gone on and married someone else.

God.

Is it too late to win her back?

What was he thinking ? Of course it is.

There’s no going back.

Bruce will just have to accept his decision.

#dc imagine #dc x reader #batboys x reader #batboys imagine #batman x reader #Bruce Wayne x reader #Bruce Wayne imagine #batman x you #dc comics x reader #batman imagine #ExGirlfriend!reader #cw angst #ex!reader #Bruce Wayne x Ex-girlfriend!reader #Bruce Wayne x ExGirlfriend!reader

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bluemerakis · 2 months ago

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⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ⭒˚.⋆ ⌇CELEBRATING 100+ C.AI FOLLOWERS ˚.⋆ ~

──────────────────────

MERA PRESENTS . . .

PAYBACK ERA .ᐟ SOLDIER BOY X CO-LEADER .ᐟ SUPE .ᐟ READER

──── SYNOPSIS ۶ৎ as co-leaders of vought’s infamous payback, yourself and soldier boy are sent on a closeted mission to investigate a business transaction gone wrong. the mission spans over a few nights, and during that time, you’re forced to share a one-bed motel room with the insufferable supe—who makes it his mission to wear your every nerve thin⌇ LINK .ᐟ ⋆ ˚࿔ °･

SINGER .ᐟ SOLDIER BOY X FAN .ᐟ READER

──── SYNOPSIS ۶ৎ you’re a local at the town bar that soldier boy frequents in his free time, debuting solo tunes when america’s cameras are powered down for the night. during his every performance, you’ve been tucked into the crowd—listening, admiring, hypnotised. and on one particular night, when out with a couple of friends, you run into the off-duty singer, who instantly recognises you ⌇ LINK .ᐟ ⋆ ˚࿔ °･

PROFESSOR .ᐟ BEN X STUDENT .ᐟ READER

⌖ based on a req .ᐟ

──── SYNOPSIS ۶ৎ godolkin university’s added a new professor to its ranks, and he’s everything a respectable academician shouldn’t be—burly, boisterous and a bit of a dick. as your new professor, you can’t help but notice every single detail about him—it borders on pathetic—and you don’t think he notices, until he does. and you certainly don’t expect that he’ll do something about your academic inattentiveness, but he does⌇ LINK .ᐟ ⋆ ˚࿔ °･

SOLDIER BOY X NON-SMOKER .ᐟ READER

⌖ based on the fic ── ❝ memory foam ❞

⌖ re-releasing this guy, as he’s been shadowbanned since his creation 😔 .ᐟ

──── SYNOPSIS ۶ৎ soldier boy’s taken it upon himself to try and teach you how to roll a blunt, but he’s never been renowned for having patience—and when you’re testing him in all the wrong ways, he’s prepared to teach you a lesson you simply can’t ignore⌇ LINK .ᐟ ⋆ ˚࿔ °･

POST-HELL .ᐟ DEAN WINCHESTER X HUNTER .ᐟ READER

⌖ based on the fic ── ❝ this one’s on me ❞

──── SYNOPSIS ۶ৎ dean’s physically free of hell, but he finds that his own demons have never really left him. having already made his fair share of bad decisions, he figures that it couldn’t hurt to make one more—the pursuit of you⌇ LINK .ᐟ ⋆ ˚࿔ °･

ANXIOUS .ᐟ DEAN WINCHESTER X HUNTER .ᐟ READER

──── SYNOPSIS ۶ৎ based on the events of s4ep6, where dean’s infected with yellow fever. an anxious mess incapable of letting his mind off-duty, you’re left to babysit him while sam chases a lead that’ll hopefully cure dean’s gradual descent into madness. you attempt to help him pass time with countless distractions that all prove futile, until you make the discovery that dean’s comforted by physical touch⌇ LINK .ᐟ ⋆ ˚࿔ °･

DEAN WINCHESTER X HUNTER .ᐟ READER

──── SYNOPSIS ۶ৎ sam winchester had gone missing a few days ago. after countless early mornings spent with your nose buried between the younger winchester’s books, you’d eventually found some sort of lead on his disappearance—a page he’d torn from a book about the consumption of demon blood. dean had linked that to sam’s frequented—supposedly secret—calls to ruby, and with that fraction of the picture, you’d both guessed that sam was currently on some blood bender with the demon. it sets in motion a road-trip that traps you by the side of a frustrated and traumatised dean, who attempts to work through his complicated emotions with the company of alcohol—and you⌇ LINK .ᐟ ⋆ ˚࿔ °･

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a/n — first off: thank you all, from the bottom of my heart, for 100+ followers on c.ai! i appreciate your patience with me more than words can express. i hope that you can take these bots as a token of my love for each and every one of you who take the time to interact with my content. love you all! second off: all these bots are based on fics that i need to either wrap up and post or continue writing, so 😝 stay tuned pooks!

please lmk if any of the links are not working—god forbid 😔🤞 i have hopefully sorted out everything so that my bots are no longer shadow-banned 🙏

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shanastoryteller · 9 months ago

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i'm going to move on from supernatural posting, i swear to god, but first i'm going to talk about ep 9x07 bad boys

the episode itself is fine and good (i mean it's another example of dean having a support network while sam can't have anyone and dean keeping secrets while when sam does it it's the worst betrayal ever but that's not what this is about and sometimes i think about what this show did two earnest, loving traumatized characters by turning them into the most tragic versions of themselves and - ok, this really isn't what this post is about)

but fandom interpretation of this episode actually drives me up a wall because it does a disservice to literally every character

one, john did not leave them without enough money for food. dean gambled it and lost it. there's nothing in canon to say that john was taking longer than expected, that they were running out of money, none of that. dean gambled food money and lost it and then tried to steal to make up for it. he was 16 when this happened and it was a bad decision but i don't think he should be at all vilified for this. he made a dumb mistake and then tried to fix it with another dumb mistake. john was right to be mad and sam was also right to tell him that he shouldn't beat himself up about it. just like with shtriga - yeah, dean was climbing the walls stuck in that hotel room. but you know who else was stuck in that hotel room? sam. and he didn't get a break to go play at the arcade. again, i'm not blaming dean here, he shouldn't have been stuck taking care of his brother that young and he was a kid and john leaving his his children behind while hunting a child eater, whether he was using them for bait or not, is crazy. but dean stealing food wasn't about john's neglect and all the sacrifices dean had to make for sam. it was about him trying to fix his fuck up

two, and this is the one that really gets me, dean didn't go back with john because he had to take care of sam

listen. listen to me. i am speaking from experience when i say this

parentified siblings are still, first and foremost, siblings. especially with only 4 years between them. the show shameless i think did an absolutely excellent job with this and is why i love the first few seasons of it so much. fiona is without a doubt parentified, she is raising those kids, but she's also clearly their sister not their mother

i know later seasons dean and fandom like to make it seem like dean literally raised sam and john was just a background figure but like. that's not realistic, and frankly doesn't even make sense

the reason dean leaves sonny and goes with john isn't because he feels like he has to keep him sam safe. it's isn't because he feels like he has to raise him. it's because he loves him

you are reducing dean to the most pathetic woe is me archetype with this interpretation and ridding him of all his rich loyalty and care and love to saddle him instead with comparatively flat duty. dean is more than sam's caretaker. he's his brother

there's also no reason for dean to feel this way. he just massively fucked up in taking care of sam - that's why he's with sonny in the first place. john has alternate people to take care of sam when he can't do it himself, as he has just proven, and while i don't think we should turn a couple teenage mistakes into making dean incapable, dean absolutely would - and did! he carries every fuck up regarding sam with him! so right now he's really, really low when it comes to his own estimation to take care of sam and leaving sonny because of that doesn't make any sense

but he looks at his brother and is reminded how much he missed him and loves him and realizes staying means he loses his brother. the good and the bad. so he goes, because he loves sam more than anything else

this is also why sam leaving for stanford cuts him so deep. that's why this moment is a parallel to that rather than being unrelated. stanford isn't about sam leaving dean even though he has a duty to care of him, because he doesn't. dean's 22 and at this point is always hunting with their father so there's no reason for sam to believe his presence is necessary for either john or dean's safety

no, dean's mad because he chose his love for his brother over a normal life and sam didn't

(sam didn't want to choose at all but this isn't about him)

anyway. dean fucks up sometimes and john sucks but not quite in the ways fandom thinks and dean loves his brother past reason or sense

#the 07 writers strike causing s3 to end with dean going to hell rather than sam descending into a demon power trip to save him #was actually the beginning of the end to good characterization of this show #you tried to make this other path work and you ruined both my boys with it #sorry but luke skywalker and han solo are both infinitely better characters when they remain luke skywalker and han solo #rather than trying to fuse them together #supernatural #this is your grandma talking

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neptxn3 · 9 months ago

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Synastry I wouldn’t wish upon my worst enemy ⋆｡˚꩜ . ݁ ˖ִ

Ok the title is an exaggeration, more like synastry I would prefer not to have, like always:

Disclaimer, these are observations I have made through personal experience and thorough research, observations also vary depending on other synastry and natal placements involved! All of these aspects can be worked through, none of these aspects make or break a relationship ❤️

Doesn’t resonate ≠ untrue

˚꩜ . ݁ ˖ִ | Navigation post

Lilith in the 7th house / conjunct descendant

♅ When women have their Lilith present in the seventh house in synastry, often times the house person can make the Lilith person feel shame just by loving who they are. The reason is because lilith in the charts of women is the area where society has convinced them is unnatural and wrong, something they should be ashamed of. So when the seventh house person who sees Lilith an an ideal desire and partner wants to love Lilith in the way they think is right, the Lilith person can pull away. Marriage is not seen as an appropriate act to follow a shameful relationship. Seventh house also represents open enemies, over time the Lilith person can resent the seventh house person. It’s typical for Lilith to pull away in these relationships in order to avoid any commitment.

♅ When a man’s Lilith is present in the seventh house in synastry, you’ll often notice they do not want to marry the seventh house counter part. Lilith in a man’s chart is the woman society has told him he should not pursue which only makes him want to chase her even more. It’s undeniable that the relationship is passionate, but it is also a sign that he does not intend to take the relationship seriously. Again, the seventh house is also the house of open enemies, the male Lilith can be very public with his intentions of not committing to the house person.

Celebrity Examples: Orlando bloom (Lilith) + Katy Perry // Andrew Garfield + Emma stone (Lilith) // FKA twigs + Robert Pattinson (Lilith)

Pisces and Libra mars

♅ I say this because Mars already has a hard time expressing its aggression or purpose in these signs, so when you take something that’s already confused and hand it to someone that will misconstrue your intentions to an even bigger extreme it becomes so draining.

♅ It’s like staying silent after an argument because you don’t know how to communicate your emotions, then the other partner sees this and thinks that your inability to work through these issues means you hate them. You just really have to hope the Mercury synastry is well aspected in this relationship😭

Sun square moon

♅ Moon typically views the sun to be someone who only indulges in their own pleasures and doesn’t seem to care about what others feelings. Often times the moon can feel as though the sun doesn’t understand or support them in endeavors that bring their inner child joy.

♅ The sun thinks the moon is irrational in its decisions and is too deep in thought to understand the suns true emotions. The sun is usually the most aware in this synastry that the moon is misconstruing it’s intentions, but is incapable of understanding how what they are saying is hurtful.

“ I want to start selling my paintings”.

“ well you’re not selling at that price, you know how much people like to lowball”.

“ maybe they’ll appreciate my art and buy full price?”.

“ moon, I wouldn’t buy a painting like that for more than 10 bucks, let’s be realistic here”.

♅ Moon person can be a push over the the relationship. To overcome this hurdle sun must be open to change, and moon must be willing to set boundaries and expectations. If not, there’s always going to be a nagging feeling in the pit of each others stomach where they know there’s an emptiness in your interactions.

Mercury square saturn

♅ Saturn person has a tendency to feel like the dominant partner in the relationship intellectually wise. They can feel like they have the wisdom and upper hand to teach the Mercury person about maturity and knowledge. However because it is in the tense aspect of the square, Saturn person has a habit of not understanding how Mercury has a way about going through things.

♅ Mercury is not only our communication but also our day to day mundane things. Saturn person can find a flaw in how Mercury spends their morning, their work habits, their food intake, how they do their hair etc. This can be frustrating to the Mercury person because they believe Saturn tends to nitpick everything the Mercury person does. The worst part of this synastry is Saturn can regard themselves too mighty and disregard the Mercury persons concerns which is where withdrawals can occur (Mercury tiptoeing around the issues and avoiding constant conflict with Saturn)

Pluto square Mars

♅ This synastry aspect can unfortunately have a great possibility of physical abuse. Pluto in one’s chart goes through intense transformations and changes that can be abrupt at times. An example could be, the Pluto person could go on a weight journey after overcoming a health problem that caused them to gain weight. The Pluto partner could expect of the Mars partner to join them in their new health routine, but the square between these two planets makes it evident they do not view this new change in the same way. Pluto can be angered with the mars partners lack of encouragement which in turn activates Mars’ aggression. Being the God of war, Mars will not back down when challenged which creates a back and forth conflict.

“ Can you get off your ass and take out the trash like you said you would.”

“Can you get off my ass and do it yourself, I’m the one who pays the bills around here.”

“I’m not taking disrespect from someone like you, I’ll leave you if that’s what it takes for you to see how badly you treat me.”

“Then leave.”

Moon square Uranus

♅ Unless the moon partner has natal moon/Uranus aspects, this aspect can be categorized as constant anxiety for the moon partner. There’s a lack of emotional stability and satisfaction which can be detrimental to the moon partner. It can feel like there’s finally a point in the relationship where you are both on the same page in life, but the Uranus counter part moves on to the next thing that causes turmoil in the relationship

♅ The reason this can be detrimental to the moon person is simply because the moon likes being in calm waters. The exaltion in Taurus indicates the moon likes to feel comfortable in the same spot for long periods of time, but when it’s aspected negatively by the Uranus individual it challenges the moon to constantly change its environment.

♅ Moon person can find themselves leaving the comfort of their home (not literally) in order to chase Uranus. Uranus finds themselves poking the hornets nest (Moon) to see how much independence from the relationship they can get away with.

Quincux signs

♅ When two signs are quincux (Virgo/Aries, Gemini/Scorpio, Aquarius/Cancer etc.) it’s difficult to understand what the other person is feeling. In sexual synastry (mars) , you both can have trouble understanding what pleases one another. With Venus signs, its a hard time understanding your love language.

♅ if one partners Sagittarius sun is quincux the other partners Cancer moon, it can feel to the moon person that the sun doesn’t even bother understanding the moons emotions, and it’s simply because the sun never even thought about what the moon person feels. Not because they’re selfish, but because they’ve never met someone who goes about their feelings like the moon.

♅ Aquarius mars quincux Virgo Venus. Mars partner can expect the Venus partner to allow them their own freedom and manage their own schedule while venus partner could be adamant about curating mars a monthly schedule to stick by which in turn can turn the mars partner off.

Quick Notes

♅ When one’s natal Saturn is negatively aspected and enters a persons 9th house in synastry, the Saturn person can seem to restrict the 9th house persons beliefs and knowledge. For example, turning the 9th house person religious/having them join a cult/demanding obediance of a woman (dispite previously potentially being more liberal.

♅ Negatively aspected natal saturn entering the money houses in synastry (2,8,11) can mean the saturn person takes away the house persons possessions/money. In the second house, they can refuse to buy you things because “you haven’t given them a reason to”/taking expensive things they’ve bought you back. 8th house, taking money your parents give you (allowances,inheritance) potentially disability checks if you receive those. 11th house, taking money from work you’ve done because of the connections they’ve given you that allowed your income to flourish.

♅ Negative Moon/Pluto can be stressful to have. Moon can open up to Pluto, and dispute being someone who isn’t shy of intense topics, if this relationships dissolves (due to other incompatible aspects) it can almost feel like “I just told you my deepest secrets, you can’t just walk away like I didn’t tell you the things that could ruin my life”.

♅ 12th house Neptune overlay. Ok this one’s a stretch but, if it gets to these deep rock bottom moments and you’re stuck in a room with someone who’s Neptune is badly aspected and it’s in your 12th house. Introduction to drugs/narcotics. Not the cool kind, I mean the one that has you sniffing the floor for snow ❄️

♅ Virgo mars man

♅ Malefics simultaneously in the 4th house and 9th house. Could lead to isolation from family and could potentially have you move away from any support systems.

#astrology #astroblr #astro community #astrology observations #astro notes #synastry #astro observations #astrology community #synastry observations #synastry overlays #lilith synastry #sun square moon #mars square pluto #moon square Uranus #mercury square saturn

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1thesewordsaremyown1 · 22 days ago

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I remember there was an interview with Oliver (I think back around season 7?) where he mentioned that Buck so far had fallen easily into relationships, and he wanted Buck to have to work for it a bit.

And we all thought "oh, here it is with Tommy." Because Buck flubbed their first date, decided he needed to fix things, so he called Tommy and asked for a second chance.

And ever since, that work has stopped. Buck essentially became a passenger both in the relationship and after it. The man who decided to treat Abby to a hot air balloon ride to impress her on a date didn't think to buy Tommy a gift for their six month anniversary, even though he said himself that it was a special occasion. When they broke up, he talked over and over about calling Tommy, yet he never did. Sure, the 118 took his phone at one point, but that was one minute out of one day - there were plenty of opportunities when he was by himself where he could have just done what he wanted to do and called him.

It was Tommy who suggested getting back together. And it was Tommy again who let Buck know he still cared for him with "and for you." And yet the only time Buck thought to actually call him was to ask for a favour (poor Tommy, seems the only time the 118 ever want to contact him is to ask for help). Oliver said that he wanted Buck for once to have to work for a relationship, and here was a perfect opportunity for it post break-up, yet the show let him (and us) down. In fact, the only time they let Buck have ANY fire this season was when he was getting pissed over people accusing him of being in love with Eddie. Rather than have him fight for his relationship and give us something to be invested in, they dragged it out with a Buck who just couldn't do anything for himself - not without approval first anyway. It was comforting to think that Tommy meant so much to Buck that he couldn't get over him with the baking, but as it kept going it got to a point where it was like "it has been MONTHS, just DO SOMETHING, since you are clearly miserable."

And look, I get that with Bobby's death and with the grieving it wouldn't have been the right time to talk about their relationship. But the show has made Buck passive about pretty much EVERYTHING this season. They let him just accept Tommy's breakup without a fight and wouldn't let him call him and instead had him bake for MONTHS. They let Eddie walk all over him, treat him like shit and then have BUCK apologise to HIM. They had Chim basically telling him what to do, that he wasn't allowed to transfer (and I'm assuming we'll be coming back in S9 with Buck still at the 118).

Hey show, how about you let Buck make his own decisions? Why don't you let him fight for what he wants? In regards to Tommy, you had him say over and over again that he wanted to call Tommy... and then you never let him do it! You are making him look immature and INCAPABLE of handling a relationship at this point, so unless you are actually going to CONTINUE Buck and Tommy's story next season (and if you don't you have left one MASSIVE dangling thread, because so far their story appears to be unfinished) I don't see how he can be in a new relationship in S9. The Buck we have now, I can't see fighting for a new relationship to survive. Not when he won't even fight for Tommy - the man he wanted to move in with, the man he all but said he was in love with, the ONLY one he has ever brought up the idea of marriage with. How they hell are we as viewers supposed to believe that any other relationship would work?

#once upon a time Buck used to fight for himself #what happened to that?#this fandom has been joking about how Buck is a passenger princess but they LITERALLY turned him into a passenger princess this season #in that he seems completely incapable of making decisions for himself and going after what he wants #writers need to do better #buck deserves so much better #my ramblings #or to be more accurate my rants #bucktommy #evan buckley #tommy kinard #911 discourse #911

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tapwater-made-everyone-gay · 7 months ago

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!!!SPOILERS FOR THOSE WHO HAVEN’T LISTENED TO THE VENGEANCE SAGA OF EPIC THE MUSICAL!!!

I find it really interesting that people are so upset about the Poseidon loss, using “it’s weird that a mortal beat a god” when the whole thing with gods in Greek mythology is that they’re parallels to humans. That’s why they have emotions, human anatomy, feel pain, and bleed (even if it is ichor that comes out). There are multiple cases of gods being beaten by humans, primarily demigods, but still humans—MORTALS. What makes them so powerful is their domain. Take that away? They’re practically powerless.

Poseidon is shown to be arrogant, claiming that the only reason he’s still hunting Odysseus (DESPITE killing his men, teaching his lesson, and even likely knowing about the brutal siren deaths) is because “the top dog can’t be seen letting his prey go. How else can I send the message that I’m a big dog? It’ll ruin my reputation!” He’s a cocky bastard, playing with his prey, telling Odysseus to get in the water because it’s more entertaining to him than just getting his revenge and killing him then and there. He talks like he’s never felt pain in his life and doesn’t think he ever will because “the top dog is untouchable”.

But he forgets that he needs his domain, needs his range to keep himself from losing. When Odysseus pulls the same trick with the wind bag (which he should’ve seen coming), he isn’t ready, because he’s never had to fight that fight. Odysseus has, and he has the anger to push himself farther. The god gets downed (which has happened many times with many gods as discussed earlier), and he still acts cocky. Odysseus opened the bag. He can’t leave. But that knowledge—knowledge that he’s stuck here and will eventually die anyway—allows Odysseus to make his decision. He can hurt Poseidon for as long as he’s capable of, make him suffer just as much because, hey, he’s going to die anyway, right?

Now, Poseidon has an out. He can get rid of the storm before Odysseus even lays a hand on him, let him go home, and flood Ithaca like planned. But he doesn’t, because he’s so in his own head that he doesn’t realize the position he’s in. And then Odysseus makes the first stab, and then the other. It hurts, even more because, like I said, Poseidon has probably never felt this pain before. And Odysseus doesn’t plan on stopping, not until Poseidon calls off the storm. He’ll go until his arms stop working, and if Poseidon hadn’t given in, he probably would’ve.

Poseidon can’t stop him either because the wounds are made before the others can heal. Does this punishment seem familiar? It should, because it’s the exact same one given to Prometheus by Zeus. Truthfully, it’s a punishment made for a god.

I should probably stop here because this has gone on way too long, but I do understand why some people might think it’s weird. We’re raised to believe that any god is untouchable, that they’re all-powerful and incapable of harm, especially at human hands. But that’s not Greek mythology. Gods aren’t capable of death, but they are capable of suffering, and a lot of them do. Just because the one suffering this time is one of the “big three” doesn’t mean it’s unrealistic.

Epic’s message isn’t the same as the original, and it never has been. It’s about what you’re willing to sacrifice, how far you’re willing to go for your own gain, and what the repercussions are when you do. Poseidon really kick started that message hard, and I think it’s poetic that it ends with him facing the outcome of that message himself.

Ruthlessness is mercy upon ourselves, but it’s not the same being on the receiving end, is it?

#epic the musical #epic the musical vengeance saga #vengeance saga #odysseus #poseidon #600 strike #six hundred strike #rant post #rant

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togeppy · 2 months ago

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everywhere, everything ;

liam mairi x reader

liam and reader make sure that they're with each other everywhere and through everything, including death ✧ : honestly I just wanted to use the chorus from everywhere, everything by noah kahan in a fic and this seemed appropriate. also i discovered i might be incapable of writing a fourth wing fic that doesn't include at least a little bit of something sad?

You knew what you were signing up for when you agreed to stay in Resson and fight, but it doesn't make the fear humming through your body any more manageable. You're terrified, and you're doing the best you can to stay alive, but every instinct is telling you to run, to flee, to be anywhere but here. You're a first year cadet - while the other marked ones are skillfully using their signets to fight off the wyvern, your heightened hearing is doing next to nothing to help the battle. The venin move with lightning fast precision; by the time you hear them approaching, they've already closed the distance, ready to engage in a fight.

You feel as if you could slip out of your skin at the feeling of impending doom, but you force yourself to tighten your hold on your dragon - you made your decision to defend the townspeople and you will not back down, regardless of how much you wish you were safe behind the wards right now. Everyone rider present is willing to die an honourable death fighting for the defenseless, and you figure that if you were to meet Malek, this is how you would want to do it. So you forge on.

All you can do is close your eyes and focus on sound cues so that you can direct your dragon towards areas you think the wyvern and venin are headed. You try to drown out the sound of dragons and your friends yelling commands, and focus on the sound of the wyvern's distinguishable wingbeats. Seconds pass and you catch onto a pattern that seems to be not far from where your dragon is currently flying.

"Up ahead!" you yell to your dragon, who instantly understands your cue, and shoots forward in the direction where you heard the wyvern approaching. Surely enough, ahead of you are two riderless wyvern, poised to attack. You're not prepared to take on two wyvern alone, and you can feel the panic once again rising in your throat, before your dragon comforts you through your bond.

"Deigh and your mate approach," they comment just as you hear the familiar sound of Deigh's wings approaching not far from your right. You only have a brief moment where you catch Liam giving you a small smile from atop Deigh's back, meant to reassure you that you're not alone and he'll be there fighting with you through this all.

Liam had been a constant pillar of support in your life, and nothing seemed to change even now, in the midst of battle. Growing up, he was a friendly smile that treated you as an equal, even when the older boys were bigger and stronger than you and easily took you down in training. When you were sent to separate foster homes, him with Xaden and you with Sloane, his letters weren't only about how his sister was faring. He always checked in on how you were doing, knowing that you had no family left and no one else that you could be vulnerable with. In the quadrant he was a deterrent for anyone who tried messing with you. He didn't care when someone muttered remarks questioning his own loyalty, but the second the comments were aimed at you, he was ready to defend you in a heartbeat. It was because of his constant support that you fell so deeply in love with him.

As Deigh swoops in to help fight against the wyvern, you find the fear gripping your chest lessening. Now that Liam is with you, you feel like you're capable of handling this fight. The two of you work well in combat together - your signets made you the eyes and ears of your squad, so you have a solid defense, preventing most sneak attacks that might come your way.

Liam begins channeling from Deigh, shooting spears of ice at the wyvern closest to him, while your dragon shoots flames at the wyvern directly in front of you. They're both momentarily stunned, and the two dragons take that as an opportunity to fly in, your dragon immediately flying over the wyvern and swiping their claws against its wings. The attacked wyvern buckles at the gashes now hindering its ability to stay in the air. The beast tries to counter by clawing back, but your dragon is too fast, clasping its jaw around the wyvern's neck and shattering it with a crack, causing it to fall out of the sky and crash into the ground below, killing it on impact.

You look over to the side, and Liam and Deigh have similarly deftly dealt with their own foe. You and Liam lock eyes, and he smiles once again, quickly lifting his right hand to his heart as a sign of vulnerability to you. Over the past year, the two of you had used that motion as a silent 'I love you' for moments like this, where you wanted to show that you were there to support each other when you couldn't tell each other with words. It was a sign that the two of you would be together everywhere, through everything. You do the motion back to him, but you're broken away from your moment of solidarity when you hear the sound of more wingbeats from further behind you.

Your dragon immediately alerts Deigh to what you've heard, and the four of you are shooting off in that direction before you can even register that the decision was made. You're flying fast, the cool wind prickling your skin as you take in the smell of smoke surrounding you from all angles. You're so focused on the wyvern that you're heading towards that you don't realize your mistake until it's too late.

Ahead flies a riderless beast, but the bigger concern exists behind you where two wyvern are following you in close pursuit, each with a venin atop its back. You suddenly feel your stomach drop as you realize the gravity of the situation you're in. Liam can at least use his ice to deter the venin until he can go in for the killing blow, but you don't have a signet that will help buy you time, and the alloy-hilted dagger strapped to your thigh isn't doing much until you're within a dangerous proximity. By that point, you've already reached a situation that there is no coming back from.

"What are our odds of survival if we go in for the attack?" you question your dragon as they veer from their original course, similarly realizing the precarious situation you've been put in.

"Lower than I'd like to risk," they respond, and you know it hurts them to admit it. Your dragon is prideful, and for them to back down from a fight means that they know that it's not a battle that's likely to be won. If there was only one venin at your rear, you and Liam together could have a chance at killing it. In a two on two fight? You would be meeting Malek in seconds.

Deigh seems to come to the same conclusion, both of you splitting off in opposite directions, each with a venin on your rear. You don't venture far from each other though, eventually circling back so that you're now flying in parallel to one another, venin not far behind each of you. Both dragons and riders acknowledge that taking on the fight together may grant you with a higher chance of survival than fighting alone. You soar past some of your fellow marked ones, and you can't help but send up a prayer that one of them is free enough to come to your aid.

You're busy trying to formulate a plan of attack, before you see a flash of movement from off to your right where Liam is flying. The venin behind you are busy sending balls of flame at both dragons, but you're able to evade them with sufficient ease. However, you notice Liam standing up on Deigh's back, running towards the dragon's tail.

"What is he doing?" you ask, alarm lacing your voice, but your dragon stays silent, focused on evading the attacks coming from your rear.

You can't help the gasp that escapes you as Deigh launches Liam into the air towards the wyvern. Within seconds, Liam lands in a crouch on the wyvern's back, pulls out a runed dagger, and slits the venin's throat before it can even attack. You don't even have time to react before Deigh is below the falling wyvern, catching Liam. Seeing Liam deal with the wyvern with such ease brings you some confidence to be able to defeat the enemy that's been trailing you all this time.

"We will fight," your dragon finally pipes up from within your mind, confirming your own thoughts as they bank left in a steep turn.

"I can't do what Liam did, they'll see it coming," you reason, trying to think of the best way to deal with the opponent still chasing you down.

"We will face him together," the voice in your head affirms, pivoting once again to face the venin head-on. Your dragon lets out a strong breath of fire directly at the wyvern, but it has little to no effect. Before you can even fully comprehend what's happening, the wyvern is flying past you, and the venin uses Liam's strategy to launch itself onto your dragon's back. Your heartbeat picks up, and you're quickly unsheathing your daggers, standing to give yourself a fighting chance against the venin. You've lost the element of surprise, but it doesn't mean this battle is lost. You're a good fighter, and you picture the enemy before you as just another one of your sparring partners on the mat.

"Just give up now," the venin spits out, a smirk evident on his face, "It's clear that this this fight is not in your favour."

He might be right, but you're not going to give up so easily. You palm one of the runed daggers, holding it so that you can easily strike when the venin approaches. You're on the defense, not offense. The venin notices this, and moves in to strike at you with its staff. Your dragon is trying its best to stay levelled so not to knock you off, and you use this to your advantage, ducking out of the way of the attack. You use the momentum of the attack to try and slice at the venin's leg, but he notices your attempt and nimbly moves out of the way in response. The two of you stand staring at each other, both anticipating the other's next attack.

You were wholly focused on this fight, trying to scope out your opponent's weak areas, only to be broken from your concentration by the scream of a dragon that you hoped never to hear. Your head quickly jerks to the side as you realize it's Deigh's scream, your eyes frantically searching for a sign that Liam is okay. You spot him with Violet atop Tairn's back, but panic rises in your chest seeing Deigh losing a fight against a wyvern not far away from you.

The venin immediately notices your distraction, using this as an opportunity to strike. He moves in once again with his staff, but you've snapped back to attention in time, able to avoid the strike. You use the venin's confidence against him, a sure slice across the neck that kills it on impact.

You're about to sigh in relief when you notice the venin has died with a smile, and you're momentarily confused. It's then that you feel as if someone has dumped a bucket of ice cold water over your entire body, and every nerve ending in your body is on fire. You look down at where the venin's non-dominant hand would have been, and finally notice that as you made the killing blow on him, so did he deliver the killing blow to you.

A dagger is lodged in your chest, blood slowly dripping out of the wound. You feel your legs go weak, and you move to sit back down on your dragon, lest you die prematurely by falling off their back.

"NO!" you hear your dragon's voice shriek in your head, matched with an equal ear-shattering roar in the physical world. Only seconds later, you hear another scream, this time from Deigh.

Your dragon makes quick work of trying to lower you to the ground, and you hazily see Violet on Tairn's back looking over at you as well, eyes wide as she catches sight of the blade protruding from your body. Liam is also on Tairn's back, and though your vision is beginning to blur and the ability to think critically leaves you, you realize that something is wrong for them as well.

You look down at the dagger still embedded in your chest. Maybe this is all a dream, and this blow isn't about to kill you. You touch the wound gingerly, and pull your hand away when it comes back soaked in your own blood. Not a dream.

You know better than to pull the blade out, knowing that it will only cause you to bleed out faster and expedite your imminent death. You want at least one more moment with Liam and your dragon before you face Malek.

Your entire body is jolted as your dragon makes contact with the ground, lowering itself to the ground. A blast of grief runs through you and you reach out to your bond.

"Deigh is gone," your dragon informs you. For a moment, you don't know how to process the information. Deigh, who was there alongside you just as long as your own dragon was, has fallen in battle, and you can't help but wish that the red daggertail didn’t suffer as he died. Largely because of the effect of your own injury, it took a few more seconds for you to realize the implications of the loss.

"Liam-" you manage to sputter out, "What happens to Liam?"

You crane your neck over to the side, and notice the dragon's body lying unnaturally, not far from where you still rest atop your dragon's back. A rider whose dragon dies will also meet an untimely fate - Liam is also moments away from death. You can still feel the sorrow emanating down your bond, your dragon well aware that this is the end for you as well - it's inevitable that you will have to say your goodbyes.

"Thank you for everything," you whisper, sliding down from your dragon to the best of your abilities, wincing at the pain from the wound now oozing with even more blood. Your dragon has swiveled its head to be directly in line with yours, and you can't find the strength to stand. You place your hand on their snout and they lean into your touch, closing their eyes, "Thank you for choosing me, and for fighting with me until the very end."

Your dragon blows a gentle huff of steam in your face, a comforting gesture, as tears begin to stream down your cheek, and you close your eyes to rest your head against their snout, where your hand had been only seconds before.

"It was my honour to fight alongside you, every moment of the way." The two of you sit there for a few seconds, and you're only interrupted when you hear Violet's footsteps approaching, eventually coming to a halt beside you.

"Do you want me to bring you to rest beside Liam? Or would you rather stay with your dragon?" she asks, her voice choked as she asks you the question. You open your eyes and stare into the eyes of your dragon, who gives you a small nod.

"Go be with your mate," they respond, moving away so that Violet can help guide you towards the area where Liam lays, not far from you. It's clear he's already said his goodbyes to Violet, and a pained smile ghosts his face as he catches a glimpse of you approaching, supported by Violet. Your blood is soaking her flight jacket, but there isn't much that can be done about the situation when she lays you next to Liam.

Your hand reaches out for his, being able to relax slightly at the feeling of contact with your pillar of support. After a few seconds of silence, you finally speak, just barely enough strength in your voice to form the last couple of sentences before you both meet your fate.

"Couldn't let me meet Malek without you, could you?" You try to joke as your head rolls lightly to rest on Liam's shoulder.

"What kind of boyfriend would I be if I let you die alone?" He laughs softly, turning his head to place a soft kiss on the top of your head.

Your body by now feels like it's on fire, every movement agonizing, but you find it in yourself to lift your right hand and raise it to your heart. "I love you, Liam. Always and forever, to the grave and beyond. Through everything." By now, your cheeks are soaked with tears, and black starts to dot your vision. You notice other marked ones approaching, the sound of footsteps becoming more frantic, but you can't seem to care - you just want to ride out your last moments with the man you love. Your hand starts to slip, no longer having the strength to hold his own in yours. He moves to intertwine your fingers so that they're joined together with less effort. "Please don't let go."

"Everywhere, everything," Liam mutters, using the last of his strength to raise your joined hands to his lips, pressing a weak kiss to your hand, "I'll love you 'til we're food for the worms to eat. 'Til our fingers decompose, keep my hand in yours."

Both of you are moments away from death, and you can feel your life force slipping away.

"Thank you for loving me, Li," you gasp out, knowing that this is the end for you, "And for letting me love you."

"It's been… my honour." He responds weakly, his pulse slowing beneath you.

Just as everything before, you and Liam are facing your final moments together. The man who was there for you in every waking moment is there alongside you as you breathe in your last gulp of air, and he's there to walk with you into death, hands joined as you enter the afterlife. You let a smile grace your lips knowing that you're in good company for the rest of eternity. You let out your final breath, and everything fades to black.

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