#eventually it lets me and I take a step and put my weight on it and shooting pain up thru my upper leg bone
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FUCKK DO MY BONES HATE ME
#owen chronicles#and possibly:#brian.#I’m in the middle of walking and I try to bend my leg to take a step and it goes nooooo that hurtssss#eventually it lets me and I take a step and put my weight on it and shooting pain up thru my upper leg bone#idk what it’s called. thigh bone#anyway I have a very shit memory and I get the feeling this has happened before#maybe it’s just cuz I’ve been sick and barely ate for 3 days
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Sukuna with clingy concubine 🛐🛐 like hella clingy, always clinging to sukuna, sitting on his lap and just following sukuna like a lost puppy
𝝑𝑒 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. true form!sukuna x concubine! female reader. fluff. little bit suggestive. size difference. reader is clingy, a bit of an airhead ig. reader gets called ‘girl, brat’.
“y’re annoying me, girl,” sukuna grumbles as he walks to the courtyard. you had magically appeared behind him the moment he stepped out of his room to get some fresh air.
you flash him an apologetic smile “i’m sorry, my lord.” you’re not sorry, sukuna knows, though he doesn’t comment on it. it’s been like this ever since a week or two ago. he cannot recall why you’re suddenly so much more affectionate.
he doesn’t wait on you, however, and takes big strides towards the courtyard. if your little legs can’t keep up, that isn’t his problem. you frown and take on the challenge that’s been thrown your way.
you increase your pace and nearly run after sukuna. you have to lift your kimono a little to make sure you wouldn’t trip over the fabric. it doesn’t seem like you’ll give up any time soon as you follow him with that same content expression on your face.
sukuna can’t believe that a human like you dares to even be in his presence for so long. he didn’t call for you, so why are you adamant on staying with him? he concludes that something must be up, “what’d you want from me?”
there hangs a silence between you two afterwards. sukuna’s slow yet heavy footsteps reverberate through the hallway, followed by your quick and light ones. you pout as you notice that the king of curses isn’t even sparing you a glance, “nothing at all. i just like to be with you.”
you add the latter as an afterthought. you don’t expect sukuna to react to that, so you continue to trail behind him into the courtyard. “tch,” you hear him scoff in annoyance. you’re sure he doesn’t mean any actual harm by that, so you don’t take it personally.
sukuna eventually sits down on the engawa, where the servants have placed the comfy zabuton cushions. there’s always one for you as well—right next to sukuna’s. it’s become a habit for the maids to include you in sukuna’s daily routines since you’re always with him.
you eye your own cushion, though don’t make an effort to actually sit down on it. sukuna stares ahead, not bothered to notice you at the moment. you look down at his lap, recalling just how perfectly you can fit on it.
you don’t waste any more time and plop down on his thick thighs, your back against his chest. sukuna’s brow twitches at the sudden contact. his bottom pair of eyes look down at you whilst the upper ones keep looking at the nature in front of you both.
“get off me,” the king of curses commands through a low tone. he doesn’t push you off, however. that alone should tell you enough; he’s tolerating your behaviour as per usual. or perhaps he secretly likes your proximity.
you shall never discover which of the two it actually is.
“nooooooo,” you exaggerate with a whine. you don’t want to. you wrap both of your arms around one of sukuna’s—clinging onto him like your life depends on it. he simply responds by sighing.
you know sukuna’s able to grab you by the collar and force you to sit down on the cushion beside him, but he doesn’t. your heart flutters every time sukuna shows some tolerance to your clingy behavior. it means that maybe—just maybe—he’s opening up to the idea of being more affectionate with you.
“such a fuckin’ brat,” sukuna simply puts one hand on your waist, the others supporting his weight on the engawa. he grumbles, but there are clear signs of him relaxing with you in his presence.
you chuckle at the realisation and swing your legs in excitement. sukuna unexpectedly bites your ear in response to your increased activity on his lap, “stay still or i’ll kick you off.”
you let out a small whimper as you feel his fangs gently sick into your earlobe. you jolt back and rub the skin with your hand, looking up at sukuna with a playful frown before teasing him back. you roll your eyes and answer him with a firm yet mocking, “sir yes, sir!”
sukuna clicks his tongue at your tease. you answer him like he’s some general in the military. that’s not the kind of relationship he has with you—it’s more than that. even though he knows you’re joking, he dislikes it when you call him anything other than ‘my lord’, ‘my king’, or just his name.
he finds great satisfaction in the way you refer to him as such. you’re the only one who can make sukuna grin each time you remind him of his status and the power he has over you.
the power dynamic; it’s addictive.
he needs more of it.
sukuna reaches out to grab your face with one hand, but you’re quick to pull your head back the moment you see that intimidatingly big hand coming down onto your vision. you clear your throat and apologise, “i mean—yes, my lord.”
the king of curses hums in content. that title is exactly what he had been looking for. he retracts his hand and settles it back down on your waist, patting your sides twice to show his satisfaction with your obedience.
you stop squirming around in his lap and simply lay back down in his arms. you close your eyes and nearly fall asleep because of the comfortable atmosphere. the slight breeze against your face is relaxing and perfectly compliments the warmth from sukuna’s body.
what a perfect way to spend your day.
#sttoru writes.#jjk x reader#jjk fluff#sukuna x reader#ryomen sukuna x reader#sukuna fluff#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#sukuna x you#sukuna x y/n#jjk imagines
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LOVE ANTHEM, 或 𓈒𓈒 cuddling with them.
( 𝒷 ) INTRODUC𝓲NG 𖥔 엔하이픈 ୨୧ f .. r 7OO fluff established relationship cautions ˚ non-idol au kissing skinship
jiah says : it has been a while since i last wrote headcanons huehue ㅠㅠ hope you enjoy 🪽
( ˊᗜˋreblogs&feedbacks · C𝑙𝑖CK )
HEESEUNG
would smoothly slide his hand in yours when you passe by— eyes still focused on the game he is playing. would then tug closer to him, gently and slowly, before resting his hand on your waist and making sit on his lap.
would wrap his arms around your form, stroking your thigh gently, fingertips brushing on your skin as his free hand’s fingers dance on the keyboard. and when he wins; would hug you tight while relaxing on his chair with a proud smile, even turning around with his chair.
him : “i deserve some reward for my hard work, right?” you : “of course, baby”
JONGSEONG
after landing a playful slap on your butt—to which you would yelp—whereupon he sees you laying on your stomach, would come lay on top of you instead of the mattress. ignoring your pleading for air, would rest his whole weight on you.
would at some point start landing wet kisses on your cheeks, sliding next to you so he can have a better angle and can free you from your agony. would then pull you in his embrace, still kissing your cheeks repeatedly.
him : “i want to eat your cheeks” you : “please don’t, i kinda need that”
JAEYUN
would already be following you around the house for a while. with his starry eyes and kicked puppy expression staring right at your back while you do the most random things ever. telepathically asking you for some cuddles.
his face would enlighten when you finally give him some attention. would open his arms for you to hide in and would sinm his nose in the crook of your neck— smelling your comforting scent. an embrace that will eventually end into long cuddles.
you : “jake, i need to pee” him : “just 5 more minutes, please”
SUNGHOON
would look for comfort in your arms after a long day away from you. it would be heard in the way he sighs in relief as soon as he steps foot in your house, his hurried steps approaching to the bedroom you would be laying in.
would love to be on top of you, his head resting on your chest while your fingers wrap around his hair strands. his hand would often take yours and put your hand palm on his cheek, then would turn his head to kiss it— all over.
him : “i missed you so much” you : “you are such a big baby”
SUNOO
would be really good at making you feel like you are the one who wants to cuddle— when you are, in theory, not. would know that if he stays next to you long enough, shoulder brushing yours but not really, you would soon ache for his touch and end up pressed against him.
would have such a cute smile on his face whenever you cuddle with him. would hold you on top of him as if you were an immense plushie with his arms squeezing your waist tightly while your face is in his neck.
you : “you could just ask instead of putting up a whole act” him : “where is the fun in that?”
JUNGWON
would have no shame or restraint in literally jumping on you the second he sees you lying somewhere without him. his laugh would resonate in the whole room when you let out a loud ‘oof’ and try to push him off of you. putting up a fight for anything with him would become a habit.
would love to tease you whenever you are locked in each other’s embrace: tickling you or pinching your sides when he feels like it— you would not even react at some point. but, would also calm down when you rub his back gently, purring like a cat.
you : “jungwon, i will kick you if you don’t stop” him : “you love me too much to do that”
RIKI
would prefer to cuddle during bedtime, when you are both on the verge of drifting to the dream world and your eyes are too heavy to stay open— when he doesn’t have to verbally ask. his shyness would wear off as soon as the tiredness would show it’s nose.
gently pulling the cover over both of your bodies, would scoot closer and put a single arm around you. then, would pull you close to him, to his chest, to his heart. like a real koala, would cling into you like that during the whole night— even if you end up in the weirdest positions, he would be holding you.
him : “wh’ d’you hate me?” you : “i just need some water”
💌 taglist ─── open, mwah ♡
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Hiii!!! Can I request a ff where reader is sick and is trying to hide it from Sylus but he notices right away and insists he take care of her.
sylus x reader
The first signs were easy enough to ignore. A dull ache in my chest, a persistent weariness that clung to me no matter how much I rested. I told myself it was just stress, but as the days passed the symptoms grew worse. My strength began to wane, and the pain became harder to hide. I stared at my computer not noticing a hand on my shoulder.
“Are you okay? You’ve been staring at your screen for a while now.” I look over my shoulder to see Tara staring at me.
“I’m fine, just feeling under the weather.” I said as I looked away from her.
“I think you should take it easy. You’ve been overworking yourself a lot.” She thought for a moment, her finger resting on her chin. “I know! Me and the others are going to do karaoke you should join us.”
I thought about it for second. I could really use the time to go out but I couldn’t even speak, let alone sing. “I’m sorry can we do it next time?”
Tara put on a frown “Awh, next time you better go. Promise?”
I looked at her with a smile
“Promise.”
Besides, I’m meeting up with Sylus later on. Suddenly i remembered that he had a business trip he was talking about. He said I had to go but I can’t let him see me like this. Otherwise he would stay with me and not even go himself. It was an important trip I didn’t want to ruin it for him.
I knew Sylus would notice eventually.
He was too observant, too attuned to every detail of my life.
So I hid it. I avoided his gaze when I would have to excuse myself when the coughing fits became too intense. I thought I was being careful, and that I could keep this secret until I found a way to manage it on my own.
But I underestimated him.
╔══════╗
“You're late, sweetie." he said, his voice cutting through the silence like a knife. “If I had to wait any longer I would’ve sent Mephisto out looking for you.”
Sylus said leaning back on his motorcycle.
“Yeah, that won’t be necessary.”
Sylus gave me one last look before he threw a motorcycle helmet my way nearly dropping it.
He patted the seat behind him when he noticed I wasn’t moving.
I was way too tired to even move.
“Get on or I’m leaving without you.”
I snap out of my thoughts and quickly scram to sit behind him.
———-
At first it was subtle. A slight hesitation in her step, a flash of pain quickly masked by a practiced smile. Sylus watched her from the corner of his eye, his mind a whirlwind of calculations.
She was careful. Too careful. Avoiding his gaze when she thought he wasn't looking, suppressing coughs when she thought he wasn't listening. But Sylus knew. He always knew.
He sat in the chair by the window, the vastness of the space outside doing very little to calm his mind. His fingers tapped against the armrest, each tap a mark of his growing frustration. Something was wrong; he could feel it in his bones.
“Mephisto, keep a close eye on her.”
caw caw
She had been acting differently for days now. And while she thought she had done her best to hide it, Sylus was not one to be easily deceived.
╔══════╗
I knew he started watching me more closely. His eyes narrowing with that sharp, calculating look I knew so well. I could feel his suspicion growing, could sense the weight of his gaze on me even when I wasn't looking. But I kept up the act, clinging to the hope that I could keep him in the dark just a little longer.
Later that evening he barged in the room without warning, his presence filling the room with an intensity that made my heart skip a beat. I looked up, startled, meeting his eyes only to see the truth in them - he knew.
"You're sick," Sylus stated, his voice low and void of the warmth he had once reserved for me.
For a moment, I tried to deflect, to brush it off as nothing. "What? I’m perfectly fine.” I said trying to hold in my cough. Perfect timing.
But it was the way the energy shifted in the room. The way he loomed over me with a commanding presence, his expression unreadable made it clear there was no escaping this. "Don't lie to me." he hissed, and the force of his words sent a shiver down my spine.
"You're hiding something."
I shook my head, standing to meet him. But there was a hesitation in my movements, a reluctance I couldn't fully hide. "No, I haven't. I've just been... tired. There's nothing to worry about."
But Sylus was done with her evasions.
He grabbed her wrist, not roughly, but firmly enough to stop her from retreating.
"Don't lie to me, Sweetie." he demanded, his voice low and dangerous.
"Something's wrong. I can see it. You've been hiding it from me, and I want to know why."
I pulled my wrist from his grasp and took a step back, shaking my head. "It's nothing, Sylus. I'm fine.
You don't need to worry."
"Don't you dare try to shut me out," he growled, his tone sharper than he intended. "I know something is wrong, and I won't let you deny it."
Sylus thought she might continue to deny it. But then she crumbled, her shoulders slumping as she finally let her guard down.
"I've been feeling sick," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. "It started a few days ago, and it's just been getting worse. I didn't want to tell you because I wanted you to let me go to that business trip with you.”
He shook his head, his hand reaching out to cup my cheek with a surprising gentleness.
“Is that what this is all about? You were hiding your sickness because you wanted me to let you go on the business trip?”
I leaned into his touch, the warmth of his hand grounding me in a way I hadn't felt in days. "Yes, I’m sorry.”
His expression hardened again, but there was a softness in his eyes that made my heart ache. "Well, you’re right, you’re not going."
“But I—“
“I’m canceling the trip. I’m staying here with you until you feel better.”
He looked back at me, and for a brief moment, I saw something tender in his gaze, something that reminded me why I had fallen for him in the first place.
“I knew something was wrong. Mephisto snitched you out.”
That damn bird.
"Let's get you to bed," he said softly, his voice gentle but firm. "You need to rest."
He picked me up bridal style and held me in his arms.
"I'm fine, Sylus. I don't need to be treated like-"
He silenced her with a look, one that she couldn’t argue against. "You need to rest," he repeated, his tone leaving no room for discussion. "And I'm going to make sure you do."
Without waiting for her response, Sylus guided her toward the bed.
She hesitated for a moment, but the exhaustion was too much, and she allowed him to help her lie down.
Sylus moved with a surprising gentleness, adjusting the pillows and smoothing the blankets as he settled her in.
Once she was comfortable, he sat down beside she on the edge of the bed. His hand reached out, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. His touch was soft, tender. A stark contrast to the man who ruled Onychinus with an iron fist.
"You've been pushing yourself too hard," he murmured, his eyes studying her face with an intensity that was almost protective.
"You need to let me take care of you. You’re like a sick kitten who needs to be monitored."
I looked up at him, my eyes filled with a mix of gratitude and vulnerability.
"I didn't want to worry you,"
Sylus's expression softened even further, his thumb gently tracing the outline of my cheek. "You worrying me by hiding things is worse," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. "You don't have to do this alone. I'm here for you."
He leaned down, pressing his cheek to my forehead, lingering there for a moment as if he was attempting to strengthen me.
When he pulled back, my eyes were already starting to droop, the weight of the day finally catching up. But even as sleep began to claim me, I reached out, my hand finding his.
"Sylus," I murmured, voice drowsy. "Stay with me?"
"I'm not going anywhere,” he promised. His voice steady. He slipped under the blankets, his arms wrapping around me protectively. "I'll be right here when you wake up."
Sylus held her close, his fingers gently stroking her hair. He listened as her breathing slowly evened out, the tension in her body melting away as she drifted into sleep.
For a long time, Sylus simply watched her. His mind racing with plans for when she wakes up. As she slept, Sylus allowed himself to relax, the tight coil of worry in his chest loosening for the first time in days. He would take care of her, no matter what it took. Because she was worth protecting at all costs.
I’ll kiss anyone who requests
#love and deepspace#lads#sylus x reader#otome game#xavier love and deepspace#zayne love and deepspace#lads mc#lads rafayel#lads x reader#lads xavier#fanfic#sylus x mc#sylus x you#sylusposting#love and deepspace sylus#love and deepspace x reader#love and deep space x reader#lads sylus#l&ds sylus#lads zayne#zayne x mc#zayne x reader#xavier x reader#sylus#sylus smut#reqs open#request#otome#dating#lnds sylus
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baby, you’re a drunk mess
fluff 𐙚 established relationship 𐙚 idol!wonwoo x fem!reader 𐙚 wc: 958
. . . being drunk is not that bad when you have wonwoo to take care of you
wonwoo knew exactly how this night would end the second he received a message from seungcheol, inviting you over for a drink. it never ended with only a drink.
„baby, lean on me,” wonwoo grabbed you tighter by your waist, as you stumbled over your own feet, trying to act as if you weren't totally waisted. “i’m going to kill mingyu for making her play that drinking game”.
„m’ fine,” you mumbled. „see, i can walk on m’ own,” you took his hand that was resting on your hip, and shoved it away, taking a step forward. wonwoo smirked at your weak attempt to push him away, considering you were drunk out of your mind, but your confidence that you were so much stronger than him was truly comical. he knew he shouldn’t have let you go, but maybe if you eventually ran into a wall or something you’d cooperate better because there was no way he’d get you home with you acting like this.
wonwoo could only shake his head in amusement, while following your every slow step. there was no way he’d actually let you fall. „you’re doing great, sweetie, but let me help you, hm?” you whipped your head around, glaring at him. „i can do it,” you hiccuped, „on m’ own,” you said, but as you took another step, you stumbled once again, falling right back into your boyfriend’s embrace.
„are you done?” he shifted you around, so he could hold you properly, taking most of your body weight on him. you nodded, and put your hands around his bicep, finally calming down. wonwoo slowly started walking towards your apartment, holding you tenderly, and even though he didn't have to see your drooping eyelids, he could feel your energy dropping with every step.
somehow he managed to open the door and get you to the bed without either of you falling over. "okay, now let's lie down," he said quietly so as not to startle you, seeing that you were already half asleep. you nodded weakly, and with his help, you finally managed to lie on the bed.
wonwoo stroked your head gently and kissed your slightly sweaty forehead before turning on the bedside lamp next to the bed so he could turn off the main light and enflug your room into soft darkness.
„wonwoo,” you called softly.
„i’ll be right back baby, we have to wipe your makeup off.”
after turning off the light, he quickly went to the bathroom where he took all the things he would need to put you to sleep. "i'm coming," he said, grabbing one of his t-shirts and hoodies from the closet in case you were cold at night (especially since he knew that when you were drunk you became clingier and wearing his clothes always made you so happy).
he put all the things on the bed and grabbed your hands. "come on honey, you need to change." happy that you were cooperating so much better than you were fifteen minutes ago, he easily helped you change into his clothes and placed you back on the pillows so he could wash off your makeup.
“you don't have to do this, wonwoo,” you whispered, but when he placed a cotton pad on your face, you closed your eyes and sighed, grateful that you had someone who could take care of you so well. "Was I very insufferable today?"
wonwoo didn’t even move, he just continued to focus on your face, slowly removing more of the makeup from your face. "you're never insufferable," he said. "don't ever say that."
"i know, but i feel like i ruined your night because you have to take care of me and-"
"do you want me to get mad at you?" he asked sharply, looking straight into your tired eyes. "you didn't ruin my night. being with my brothers and you at the same time is the biggest gift from the universe, no matter how drunk you are. i'm your boyfriend, i'm here to take care of you, just like you take care of me ,” he said, throwing out a used cotton pad. "should i remind you how many things you do for me when i'm busy at work? how you prepare my food for rehearsals, and how you do my laundry when i'm too tired to do it? when you listen to me complain for hours about how exhausted i am?"
"baby, drunk or not, i will always take care of you, and not because i have to, or because it's my duty, but because i love you," he said with sincerity in his eyes, and despite your not-so-sober state, you didn't miss his look full of love. "seeing you having fun with my friends means everything to me." you nodded slightly in understanding. what did you do to deserve jeon wonwoo?
"okay, make-up removed, clothes changed, do you need anything else?"
"maybe water?"
"of course, let’s just get you under the covers."
after covering you up, wonwoo went out to the kitchen to get a glass of water and painkillers for tomorrow morning and returned to your bedroom.
“okay, now we can-,” his words faltered when he saw you already asleep, your hand on his pillow, and you snuggled into yours. he placed the glass and pills on your bedside table quietly, and turned off the light before lying on his side of the bed, lifting your hand and placing it on his stomach. almost as if you knew in your sleep that he was next to you, you placed your head on his chest, treating it like your new, comfy pillow.
"i'm a drunk mess," you whispered after a while, kissing his jaw.
"yes. but you're my drunk mess."
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toxic!rafe manhandling toxic!reader when she gets bratty or snappy with him
warnings: dealer!rafe, sorta toxic relationship, cheating accusations, arguing, cussing, yelling, physical violence
[11:15 PM] ‘ray <333’ stopped sharing location with you
“what the fuck?” you sat up, staring at the words on your screen like they weren’t real. you called him not once, not twice, but ten times until you were pacing back and forth, imagining your boyfriend balls deep inside someone else. he said he’d be out dealing with barry on the cut, and that was more than enough reason for you to think of the worst. eventually you calmed down, your head shooting in the direction of the door once you heard it open. “what are you doing up still?” rafe tossed his keys on the dresser, plopping down on the bed with a sigh.
“it’s two in the morning, rafe.” your voice was eerily calm, immediately making his eyebrows knit in confusion. “yeah, and?” he reached for your arm, which you pulled away. “what the fuck is wrong with you?” he got up, dragging you with him. “why did you turn off your location?! you didn’t answer any of my calls.. what do you expect me to think?!” you shouted, pushing him in the chest, which turned out to be useless because he didn’t even budge. “i expect you to understand that if i’m not answering the phone it’s because i’m busy conducting business,” his grip on your wrists made your skin burn, “i didn’t just stop sharing my location, but i turned my phone off altogether because barry gets all fuckin’ paranoid. i wasn’t fucking around if that’s what you think.” you narrowed your eyes at him.
“you’re a liar.” you shoved him again, this time making him stumble. “how many times have i told you that i don’t even want to look at anyone else, let alone fuck them?! while you’re here driving yourself crazy, i’m out there making money for us so i could keep you happy,” he followed you into your shared closet, taking the bag you were stuffing clothes in, “you’re not going anywhere.” you shot daggers at each other, both of you fuming with anger. “i know that look in your eye. don’t do anything stupid, y/n.” you glanced at the keys on the dresser, rafe already two steps ahead of you as he picked you up and pinned you down to the bed. you let out a yelp, unable to move underneath his weight.
“i love you, alright? i would never hurt you like that. what did i say when i first put that promise ring and that pretty little finger?” your gaze softened, as did rafe’s. “you said you’d always be honest with me.” he nodded, letting your hands free. “i meant every word.” his voice was barely above a whisper as he leaned in slowly, taking your lips in a gentle kiss. as much as you adored this soft side of rafe, you couldn’t help but grind against him, his teeth nipping your bottom lip in response. “now i have to fuck you back in your place.”
#❤︎₊ ⊹ works#₊˚⊹♡ rafe#toxic!rafe#outer banks#rafe cameron#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe outer banks#rafe cameron x reader#outer banks netflix#rafe cameron blurb#rafe cameron headcanons#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron imagine#rafe concepts#rafe core#rafe coded#rafe edit#rafe fluff#rafe x you#rafe fanfiction#rafe smut#rafe x reader#rafe imagine#rafe fic#outerbanks rafe#rafe obx#rafe cameron x female reader
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MDNI
Working at a restaurant with 141!(Part 5)
The shithead owner decides that he needs to sign up for a "restaurant renovation" show. Chaos ensues.
"A fucking TV show?"
Gaz frowns while polishing glasses.
"Told him it was a bad idea."
Price shrugs, lighting a cigar. You are horrified, being on the screen for millions of people to see was nerve wracking. And it'll be the first time you meet the owner.
"Restaurant renovation... Lik' he gives twa fucks aboot renovating this shitehole."
Johnny ashes his smoke and passes it to you. You take a deep drag and sigh, this is gonna be a disaster.
~
Cameras are set up everywhere, everyone's mic'd up, there are too many people in too small of a space. Some obnoxiously loud man introduces himself. He seems to be an amalgamation of every TV host you've ever seen, wearing too much cologne and too much hair gel. He puts a hand on your shoulder,
"The place looks terrible but at least they got something nice to look at here."
He flashes a smile, cheap veneer blindingly white. You awkwardly laugh while Price steps in, introducing himself. You scurry away to the back where the rest of the boys are,
"I want everyone to be on their best behavior today. No fucking around. Don't make me look bad."
The owner is a bland man, average height and weight, with a shitty haircut and wearing an ugly flashy shirt. He turns around and briefly introduces himself, he already smells like liquor. Great. He gets waved over to get interviewed by the host. You and the guys watch from the other end of the restaurant. It's quite embarrassing, the host pointing out how run down the place looks, the menu is confusing and overwhelming, and then asks if he's drunk,
"I can smell the alcohol from here Carl... it's only 11am buddy."
The owner stutters and blinks,
"I- just uh, just a crazy night is all."
The host stares, unconvinced. Carl shifts awkwardly in his chair. The next segment was ordering food apparently, so you were up. You walk up to the table as the host asks you a barrage of questions,
"How would you say the fish is here? Is everything fresh? What do you think of the steak? Do you have any recommendations?"
When you say you only ate the fries from here and he laughs loudly,
"That is not a good sign folks!"
He stares at the camera, showing off teeth that were too big for his mouth before you walk off and punch in the order. There's a cameraman recording John and Simon cooking,
"Steak and potatoes."
John reads the slip out loud, they move around the kitchen while the owner watches. For such a simple dish there's a lot of chaos, Carl is yelling at them to move faster and cook properly, John is busy arguing with Carl and burns the steak, Simon plates up the food and hands it off to you. You place the plate down in front of the host,
"Oh...oh my God..."
You keep a straight face, hands behind your back. The host looks back up at you,
"Does the food usually come out like this?"
There's a tone of disgust and concern, his eyebrows turned up, you shrug. He stares back down at the filet and cuts into it,
"It's very impressive that one is able to overcook such a large piece of meat. That takes...skill."
You watch concertedly as he picks up a piece and puts it into his mouth, it looks like he wants to cry.
He goes on to complain about the quality of the food to the camera as he walks to the kitchen,
"At least it's clean back here. I've seen kitchens in wors- is that a fucking pigeon?"
Sure enough, there is. How the fuck did it get in here?
"Oh! I just left the door open to let some fresh air in..."
Carl awkwardly tries to catch the bird while the boys watch amusedly, even the camera crew stifle a laugh.
"Christ Almighty, what is wrong with you man?"
The host shakes his head, watching the whole scene in disbelief. Eventually, the bird is out of the building and the sweep of the kitchen continues.
"Food is not expired, everything is stored properly, it's all very well organized. I was honestly expecting worse."
The host walks up to the bar next, plucking up bottles and examining them,
"So, Kyle is it? How long have you been working here for?"
"Just a little over five years."
Gaz leans against the bar. There's a gasp and the host waves the camera over,
"Look at this shit,"
He points at the label,
"Expired in August,"
You look over at Gaz and Soap, they look like they're about to piss themselves, holding back laughs.
"Of 2012!"
The host looks disgusted,
"Why didn't you throw this away?"
"Carl told me to not toss anything."
Kyle shrugged. Soap is almost in tears, shaking, trying to bite back a howl of laughter.
The next two days are like this, you don't know why Carl hasn't pulled the plug on this fiasco yet,
"I think he's getting drunker as the days go by."
Johnny says, ashing his cigarette. There's a nod from Simon,
"I think he enjoys being embarrassed, seems like the type to get off on that."
'The big finale' as the host calls it, means getting a new menu, refreshing the cooks(John's) skills, and cleaning out the bar. The place is opened and there's a line out of the door. It's overwhelming, the customers are putting on a show, acting like dickheads and sending everything back even when there's nothing wrong with the food. Simon and John are on top of everything, putting out food as fast as possible, Carl is shitting himself running around the kitchen like a headless chicken. The night goes by fast and everyone is at the bar,
"So the cooks are for the most part competent, the waitress is amazing, and the bartender is well... The man can do no wrong. The problem here is you,"
The host points at Carl who is fucking sloshed swaying back and forth,
"I genuinely think this restaurant would be better off without you."
Carl starts bawling. The host is visibly uncomfortable. The boys and you are looking at each other. Then when all the cameras and lights are gone, it's all back to normal. Carl is looking for reassurance from anyone and you and the boys just pack up and head home, Price patting him on the back,
"You'll be alright."
~
A few months later, you're all sat on the couch watching the TV. Johnny's over the moon pointing at the screen,
"Look thare A am! See hou sexy A look?"
He's smiling and waving at the camera in the background of the scene where Carl is crying his eyes out. That gets a laugh out of Gaz,
"You're a sick bastard, Soap."
Once the episode dropped, the restaurant got busy for a few months. Most of the customers are horny women ogling at Kyle. On occasion you get the request to bring out "the scary looking one" and you just laugh it off.
"You're so lucky working with all these guys, I don't know if I'd be able to control myself,"
A particularly drunk woman said to you one day. You just smile while Kyle winks at you over his shoulder.
#this one was rushed sorry!!!#next one will have sex i promise!!#just wanted a little fun one#141 x reader#poly 141#simon ghost riley#john soap mactavish#kyle gaz garrick#john price#ghost x reader#cod x reader#soap x reader#gaz x reader#kyle gaz x reader#john price x you#price x you#john price x reader#price x reader
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Cute situations w/ f1 drivers- ep2.
Asking the drivers if they 'wanna nap?'
Charles:
"Wanna nap?" You asked the man as soon as he stepped into his hotel room, tired and eyes red. You knew Ferrari wasn't some winter wonderland but you didn't know why Charles put up with it.
You had been close friends with the man, since before he'd started f3 too, you knew he bled Ferrari red but this wasn't bleeding this was suicide.
Nonetheless, you were there for him, every weekend, only today there wasn't much to do, he had just come back from some meetings. He looked at you and hummed, taking off team-issued merch and throwing himself on the bed beside you.
You turned on some sad Adele song and faded into sleep, holding the boy close to you, his head resting on the curve of your neck.
Carlos:
"Wanna nap?" You asked Carlos as you both walked into his drivers' room, it was early in the morning at the Las Vegas GP and just as the year before they had messed up the timings and the drivers had to wait till four-thirty in the morning to get on with the programme.
Knowing the both of you, you were sure if you hadn't extended the offer the both of you would have ended up doom-scrolling through Netflix looking for some show to watch fighting off sleep.
"What?" He asked, shocked at the offer for a second before raising his browns and winking at you, "You finally feel my charm didn't you?" he laughed as he climbed onto the small and rickety bed next to you. "Smooth operator strikes again," he praised himself, pulling you close to him, enveloping you in his arms as the big spoon.
You groaned and kicked his shin, making him complain, "Dude you're so fucking lame!" You made fun of the older man who only replied with terrorism (tickling you,) "S-top, stop, I'm sorry," you laughed, trying to escape the death grip he had on you, eventually getting him to stop.
He let you catch your breath as he set an alarm, before trapping you in his warm arms again, both drifting into a comfortable sleep.
Lando:
It was way past midnight but you couldn't sleep, unable to get yourself out of the party high, too drunk to rest your brain. Thankfully you weren't the only one.
There was a barrage of knocks on your hotel room, a slurred voice with a British accent begging to be let in. "Y/n/nnnnn, I can't sleep," he cried once in the room, stumbling over nothing as you both made your way to your bed.
You giggled as he fell, brushing his hands over the cold blanket. You joined him, crawling onto the bed slowly as the room around you spun. You laid on your back, clinging onto the bed for dear life.
Lando noticed and piled on top of you, making you raise a question brow. "So you don't fall off," he muttered, his face buried in your chest.
"Ohhhh, that makes sense," you said, understanding his thought process as the spinning slowed down. "We should nap," you said out loud, eyes shutting due to the comforting warm weight on top of you.
Lando hummed in return, wrapping his hands around your waist, as you pulled one hand up to his and another grabbing his curls for extra support.
Oscar:
There were two things everyone knew about Oscar, he hated waking up early and he loved sleeping. So when his trainer woke him up on a perfectly cosy yet cool Monday morning to exercise, he nearly wanted to kill the man, only stopping because that would take much more effort than simply going through with the workout.
Your apartment was closer to the gym than his, so he happily invited himself in to bitch and moan about his trainer and how that man must have hated him.
Rolling at your friend's antics, you pushed away your laptop, walking from the dining table to where he was sitting on your sofa.
"Wanna nap?" You had barely finished your question when you were pulled onto the Australian.
"I thought you'd never ask," he whispered, as he shuffled on the narrow sofa to get comfortable, you still on top of him, his arms wrapped around your waist and your face buried in his neck.
"Are you using me as a teddy bear?" You asked incredulously, trying to get up to no avail as the man's grip on you was far too strong.
"Yes, now let me sleep," he murmured, already half gone.
George:
George had a habit of pushing himself too far, ever since he was a child. When you guys had just newly become friends, the boy had spent hours trying to find out what exactly you liked and didn't, stalking your Instagram and your family's Facebook.
You had found it endearing but also concerning how he always wanted to be perfect. So when you walked into his house at midnight (you got a key made- there's a reason the both of you got along so well,) and found him staring unblinkingly at his laptop and a large mess of papers spread across the wooden coffee table.
"Dude, what is wrong with you," You whisper-yelled at the man making him jump, pressing a hand to his chest.
"Me? What is wrong with you?" He yelled, panting as you jumped over the back of the couch, sitting right next to him, ruffling through the papers much to his chagrin.
"Shut it, Georgie boy," you smirked at him using the nick name he hated. “What are you even doing, it’s so late?” You asked looking at the taller man who started off in a rant about the car and everything he was doing wrong, making you slide down on the sofa till you head was resting on the backrest. You lifted your feet up to rest them on the coffee table, making George rush to move a stack of papers so they wouldn’t be under your feet.
Perfect. You grabbed the man’s shoulders and made his head rest on your lap.
“What on earth are you doing!” He yelled more than asked, trying to get up but you doubled down.
“George you need to sleep,” you deadpanned as he tried to make you let him go, knowing his pleas fell on deaf ears he gave up.
You raised your brow, “wanna nap?” You asked teasing the boy.
“Only for a few minutes,” he pressed, making himself comfortable, while you tangled your fingers in his hair, “maybe more then,” he sighed and let his eyes shut, slightly watering and finally fell asleep.
Lewis
Lewis had never been a friend to you, he was more like an annoying yet caring older brother or like a fun uncle of sorts. The man was fiercely protective of his friends, even those whom he saw in animosity.
But you were different, Lewis would steal your coffee, eat your food, and push you around but he'd also sneak you Red Bull (much to his disgust,) into his driver's room during late races, walk you to your hotel room after parties and get you souvenirs from races you couldn't be at. Similarly, you loved to annoy the man, stealing his expensive jackets, which looked hilarious due to the size difference, stealing his headphones and running away with them and most importantly coming to him with your problems day or night.
So no, Lewis wasn't surprised when you showed up to his driver's room in the middle of the day, even though Toto had revoked your pass for the day (for bullying George, but it was worth it,). He was ready to tease you but then he saw your eyes, red and tears flowing down your face.
"Oh my god, are you okay?" He immediately came up to you, giving you a once-over to see if you were injured. "Did someone say something, are you hurt?" He asked panicking at your silence. You simply wrapped your arms around the older man, hiding your face in his chest, quietly sobbing and sniffling.
He walked you both to the sofa in his room, seating you down, trying to wipe your tears, "Do you wanna talk about it?" He asked as you finally calmed down, using his arm as support to sit up.
You cleared your throat, "No, I just wanna nap," you hiccuped slightly.
"Okay," he leaned back so you could rest your head on his shoulder, giving you one of his airpods to relax, which you gladly accepted.
Lance & Fernando (they aren't always gonna be together but the situations... THE SITUATIONS WRITE THEMSELVES)
"Oh honey that’s not," Lance said pointing to your coloured hair (matching with Alex) and thats how the conversation had started and had ended in a cat fight.
“At least I’m not a nepo baby,” you yelled as you threw a basket of oranges at him, which he dodged, darn those f1 reflexes. The basket itself smacked him square in the face, leaving a red indent across his nose. He glared for a second before jumping over the table you were fighting across and pulled your hair. “Owww, you bitch”
You bit his hands in defence, to which he kicked your shin, screaming you launched yourself at him, crashing the both of you to the ground, “oh my god, okay, truce, truce,” he panted, pushing you off him.
“Just so you can catch your breath,” you retorted making him mock you. In reality, you were definitely much more tired than he was. You were struggling to catch your breath, your head killing you where he grabbed a large chunk of your hair.
You turned to look at him, resting your head on his stretched arm, he was massaging his nose, the bruise turning purple now, “well that was fun,” he turned to face you.
“Sooooo fun,” you rolled your eyes, “wanna nap? My heads killing me,” you are far him in accusation but he glared right back pointing to his swollen nose.
“Sure,” he shrugged, shifting closer to you and closing his eyes. You opened your mouth to make a joke but were interrupted, “there are like a million oranges on the floor right now, I’ll throw one at you,” you accepted defeat and fell into a comfortable sleep.
That’s how Fernando found the both of you, slightly scowling but fast asleep, he took a picture for blackmail’s sake and placed a blanket over the two of you.
PT-2 w/ Max, Logan, Alex, Daniel, Yuki, Pierre, Esteban, Zhou.
#f1#formula 1#charles leclerc#charles leclerc x reader#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#carlos sainz#carlos sainz x reader#lando norris x reader#lando norris#oscar piastri#oscar piastri imagine#oscar piastri x reader#george russell x reader#lance stroll#lance stroll x reader#george russell imagine#george russell#lewis hamilton#lewis hamilton x reader#fernando alonso#fernando alonso x reader
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ㅤ ꢾ꣒ㅤㅤ SECRET SANTA──PSH.
resumen 。。 he gives you a second gift.
( 성훈 ) femreader ㅤㅤ✦ㅤㅤ 619wc implied friends to lovers ㅤ──ㅤ w not proofread
you step outside of jake's apartment building, pulling your coat tighter around you once the cold air hits your face. you stand on the curb, waiting for your uber as you stare up at the sky.
secret santa: a classic christmas game, one that your friends decided to do before you all left to your hometowns. you had gotten yeojin, buying her a weighted blanket. eventually you were the last one without torn up wrapping paper around your area and the only person yet to give a gift was sunghoon.
he handed you a small box, wrapped so pretty that you almost didn't want to tear the paper. you did, though, and inside was a bracelet. which you immediately recognized as an expensive necklace, definitely not within the fifty dollar budget the group had decided on.
a smile takes over your face when you remember the shy look sunghoon had given you, his cheeks flushed red while your friends scolded him for buying something out of budget.
"you're not cold?" you turn towards the voice, flinching out of surprise. you glance up and glare at the man standing next to you.
"oh my god, you scared the fuck out of me," he laughs, backing away as you hit his shoulder. regretting the action, you stuff your hands back into your coat pockets to warm them up and mumble quietly, "you're actually awful, sunghoon."
"i'm not that bad. i spoiled you today."
you tilt your head in confusion before you smile in realization, "oh, you did. it's pretty, by the way. thank you."
he hums, letting the conversation die out. the two of you stand silently in the cold, but it's not uncomfortable. that's what you like about sunghoon—he's the kind of person you don't have to be constantly talking to, he provides you with the kind of comfort that hot chocolate does on a snowy day.
"there's a second part to your gift," he says, breaking the silence. he kicks at the ground roughly, avoiding your gaze.
"what do you mean?"
"the necklace isn't the only thing i'm giving you."
"wait—hello? how much did you spend on me?"
"i only spent money on the necklace."
you don’t follow, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion. maybe you’re just oblivious, but you have no idea what he's talking about. he's giving you two gifts, but one of them was free? that makes zero sense in your mind.
"i like you," he says it with so much confidence, like it was the most simple and obvious thing in the world. it makes you feel like you should've known this whole time.
you're in a daze and by the time you get a hold of yourself, your uber pulls up, a notification going off on your phone to alert you.
you don't notice—too distracted—when sunghoon glances at the license plate, storing it away in his mind just in case.
"you should go, it's late," he guides you to the car, opening it for you.
well that's just unfair—he's pushing you away, clearly avoiding your reply to his confession. his confidence was obviously an act he put up.
rolling your eyes, you lean up and place a kiss on his cheek. courtesy of the streetlights, you can see sunghoon's cheeks turning redder with every passing second.
"i'll see you next week. maybe we can hang out?" you shift nervously, looking up at him expectantly.
he nods immediately, the biggest grin you've ever seen spreading across his face—he looks like a kid who's just gotten his dream gift.
"yeah, yeah. definitely."
when your uber drives away, you freak out in the most discreet way possible. this was genuinely the best christmas you've had in a long time.
anna's note. happy holidays guys ily all and i especially love hoon :3
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ click4more.
#ㅤ⠀ ૮꒰ ˊᗜˋ ꒱ა ♡ ㅤ⠀#sunghoon x reader#park sunghoon x reader#enhypen x reader#enha x reader#sunghoon x you#sunghoon x y/n#sunghoon fluff#sunghoon imagines#sunghoon drabbles#enhypen fluff#enhypen scenarios#enha scenarios#enha fluff#enha imagines#park sunghoon x you#park sunghoon x y/n#park sunghoon fluff#park sunghoon imagines#enha x you#enhypen x y/n#enhypen x you#enha x y/n
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𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍
their favorite way to show their love for you is through — words of affirmationꜝꜝ
if you enjoyed reading this consider leaving a like or reblog ᐢ..ᐢ
pairing ⋆ ot7 enhypen x gn! reader ʬʬ content / warning(s) ⋆ comfort—so much comfort, established relationship, non-idol au ꕀ word count : 2,541 (the longest yet) ʬʬ go back to the start? ・ archive ᐢ..ᐢ lev notes : tysmmm to my lovely moots for giving me the inspiration for this by answering my lil survey <3 as usual my bsf proofread + edited and added to this (they should start their own blog istg- but then again they don't really write as a hobby... + they're busy so i think their blog would just collect dust T-T) i should really take notes cause they write so poetically...
𝗟𝗘𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗨𝗡𝗚 - “ you are capable of so much more than you know.”
you’re sitting on your bed, feeling the weight of deadlines and responsibilities pressing down on you. the glow of your laptop screen feels harsh in the dim light, and you can’t shake the sense of being overwhelmed. just as you take a deep breath, there’s a soft knock at your door.
“heesung?” you call, grateful for his presence. he opens the door, his expression shifting from concern to warmth as he sees you.
“hey y/n, i brought some snacks,” he says, holding out a plate of your favorite treats. “but I can tell you need more than just food right now.”
you give a small smile, but it fades as you look back at your screen. “i just feel like everything is piling up. i don’t know how to handle it all.”
he sits down beside you, placing the snacks aside. “let me remind you of something,” he begins, his voice soft yet steady. “just like the moon must endure the night before it can shine, you too will find your light again. it’s okay to feel this way; it’s part of the journey.”
you look at him, captivated by his words. “but what if I can’t find my way?”
he gently takes your hand, his grip reassuring. “you are not lost; you are simply navigating through a storm. allow the winds to guide you, and trust that the sun will rise again. each challenge you face is like a note in a beautiful song—sometimes dissonant, but eventually leading to harmony.”
his poetic words wrap around you like a warm embrace, and you feel the tension in your shoulders start to ease. “you really know how to lift my mood, don’t you?”
he smiles, a twinkle in his eye. “i’m here to remind you that even the darkest nights will give way to dawn. let’s take a moment to breathe and celebrate your strength. you are capable of so much more than you know.”
with a newfound sense of hope, you nod. “thank you, heesung. i really needed to hear that.”
“anytime,” he replies, and together, you take a deep breath, allowing the weight to lift just a little more as you share in the comforting silence.
𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗝𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗦𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗚 - “you did your best, and that’s enough.”
it’s been a tough day—one of those days where no matter how hard you tried, nothing seemed to go right. frustration bubbles inside you, mixing with a sense of inadequacy you can’t seem to shake.
you hear a gentle knock at the door, and a moment later, jay steps inside. he takes one look at you and instantly understands; he’s seen that look before.
without a word, he crosses the room and sits beside you, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. you look up, trying to manage a small smile, but it fades quickly. “i really tried, jay. but I feel like it wasn’t enough. nothing went the way i wanted it to.”
jay’s gaze is warm and understanding, his expression softening as he listens. he reaches for your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “hey,” he says, his voice calm and steady. “you did your best, and that’s enough.”
you blink, letting his words sink in, but a part of you protests. “but… what if my best wasn’t good enough?” he shakes his head, his hand still holding yours.
“your best isn’t measured by the outcome. it’s about the effort you put in, even when things get tough. you showed up, you tried, and that’s what really matters.”
a comforting silence settles between you as you take in his words. “i guess i just wanted everything to go perfectly.”
“i know,” he replies gently. “but perfection isn’t what makes you amazing. your determination, your resilience—that’s what i see, and that’s what matters to me.”
a small smile finally breaks through, and you feel a weight begin to lift. “thank you, jay. i needed to hear that.”
he smiles back, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “i’ll always be here to remind you.” then, with a soft touch, he pulls you into a warm hug, his embrace steady and reassuring.
and as you relax in his arms, you realize that maybe, just maybe, doing your best really is enough.
𝗦𝗜𝗠 𝗝𝗔𝗘𝗬𝗨𝗡 - “even the stormiest skies eventually clear.”
you're curled up on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, staring at your phone, feeling overwhelmed by the weight of your worries.
when suddenly, the door creaks open, and jake steps in, shaking off the rain from outside and instantly brightening the room with his presence. “hey there sunshine,” he greets, noticing your downcast expression. “what’s got you looking so down?”
you sigh, feeling a mix of relief and sadness. “just… everything. It’s been a rough few days.”
without hesitation, he plops down beside you, pulling you to his side. “i get it. life can feel like a heavy cloud sometimes, but remember, even the stormiest skies eventually clear.”
you lean against him, taking in his warmth. “it just feels endless right now.”
he brushes a stray hair behind your ear, his voice steady and soothing. “you’re not alone in this. i’m here to help you carry the weight. let’s take it one step at a time. every storm has its purpose, and i believe you’re going to come out even stronger.”
a small smile breaks through your gloom as you look into his eyes. “thank you, jake. you always know how to make me feel better.”
he grins, his eyes sparkling. “of course. you light up the darkest nights. just remember, whenever you’re feeling low, I’m right here to remind you how incredible you are.”
feeling a sense of comfort wash over you, you snuggle closer, letting his reassuring words wrap around you like a warm blanket as rain continues to fall outside.
𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗛𝗢𝗢𝗡 - “you mean so much to me”
you’re standing in the snack aisle of your favorite grocery store, contemplating whether to go with your usual chips or try something new. sunghoon, who’s been scanning the shelves beside you, suddenly goes quiet. when you glance over, you catch him just… staring at you, a small, soft smile on his face.
“uh, did i miss something?” you ask, laughing a little as you grab a bag of chips.
sunghoon shakes his head, but his smile only grows wider. he takes a step closer, lowering his voice as if he’s about to share a secret. “you know you mean so much to me, right?”
you blink, surprised by the sudden confession. glancing around, you notice a few shoppers moving past, some casting curious looks your way. “sunghoon, we’re at the store…” you whisper, cheeks warming as you give him a playful nudge.
he chuckles, completely unfazed by the setting or the people around. “i know, but i just wanted to say it. i love you, and i don’t care where we are. i don’t want to miss a chance to remind you.”
your face softens, and you feel your heart flutter at his sincerity. “you’re so random sometimes, you know that?”
he grins, grabbing the bag of chips out of your hand to toss it into the cart. “maybe, but you love it,” he says with a playful wink.
you roll your eyes, trying to hide your smile. “yeah, maybe i do.”
and as you continue down the aisle, you feel lighter, his words replaying in your mind. sunghoon may choose the most unexpected times to say how he feels, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.
𝗞𝗜𝗠 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗢𝗢 - “you are more than enough.”
the evening light filters through your window, but instead of its usual warmth, it only amplifies the feeling of heaviness in your chest. after a long day, you find yourself scrolling through social media, comparing yourself to the perfect smiles and flawless features of others. tears start to fall, blurring your vision as self-doubt creeps in.
suddenly, there’s a soft knock at your door, and before you can respond, sunoo enters. he immediately notices your tear-streaked face, his expression shifting from curiosity to concern. “baby? what’s wrong?” he asks, quickly crossing the room to sit beside you.
you wipe your eyes, attempting a smile, but it falters. “i just… i feel like i’m not pretty enough for you,” you admit, your voice trembling. “you could find someone so much better.”
sunoo’s heart aches at your words. he reaches out, gently taking your hand in his. “what? no way,” he says, his tone firm yet gentle. “you are more than enough. these thoughts don’t reflect who you truly are.”
“but everyone else seems perfect,” you reply, your voice breaking.
he shakes his head, squeezing your hand tighter. “perfection is a myth, and even if it were real, it wouldn’t matter. you are unique and beautiful in your own way. i see all the things that make you special, and they’re what drew me to you in the first place.”
a small, hopeful smile begins to form on your lips as you look into his eyes. “really?”
“absolutely,” he leans closer and continues, “i love you just the way you are, and i would never trade you for anyone else. you are perfect to me, and I’ll always be here to remind you of that, especially on days like this.”
feeling the warmth of his words seep into your heart, you nod, gratitude flooding through you. “thank you, sunoo. i don’t know what i’d do without you.”
he wraps his arms around you, pulling you into a comforting embrace. “you’ll never have to find out. i’m here for you, always.”
as you settle into his warmth, the weight of your insecurities begins to lift. then, gently pulling back, sunoo cups your face in his hands, his eyes searching yours. “can i show you how much you mean to me?”
before you can respond, he leans in and kisses you softly, his lips brushing against yours with a tenderness that makes your heart flutter. it’s a kiss filled with reassurance and love, reminding you that you are enough just as you are.
𝗬𝗔𝗡𝗚 𝗝𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗪𝗢𝗡 - “you’re doing your best, and that’s what matters most.”
you sit at your desk, surrounded by textbooks and notes. you’ve been putting in long hours, determined to improve your grades and stay on top of your studies. but tonight, exhaustion starts creeping in, and you can’t help but feel a twinge of doubt about whether all this effort is worth it.
just then, jungwon knocks softly before entering your room, a bright smile lighting up his face. “hey, i brought you some snacks!” he says cheerfully, holding up a plate filled with your favorite treats.
you look up, trying to muster a smile. “thanks, jungwon. i really appreciate it, but I’m not sure i have time to eat right now.”
he puts the plate down beside you and leans against the desk, observing your scattered notes. “you’ve been at this for hours, haven’t you? i just wanted to check in on you.”
you sigh, running a hand through your hair. “yeah, i’m trying to keep up, but it feels like I’m not making any progress.”
jungwon’s expression softens as he looks at you. “i see how hard you’re working every day, and i want you to know that it doesn’t go unnoticed. you’re putting in so much effort, and that’s something to be proud of.”
his words catch you off guard, and for a moment, you’re speechless. “you really think so?”
“absolutely,” he replies, his voice filled with sincerity. “you’re doing your best, and that’s what matters most. remember, progress isn’t always immediate, but every step you take is a step closer to your goals.”
feeling encouraged, you take a deep breath and nod. “thanks, jungwon. that means a lot coming from you.”
he smiles and pulls you into a gentle hug. “and don’t forget to take breaks, okay? you can’t pour from an empty cup.”
you laugh softly, feeling lighter already. “i’ll try my best.”
“good,” he says, stepping back and gesturing to the plate of snacks. “now, let’s take a break and enjoy these together. you deserve it.”
as you share the snacks and laughter, you feel a renewed sense of motivation. jungwon’s unwavering support reminds you that you’re not alone in your journey, and his encouragement makes all the difference.
𝗡𝗜𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗠𝗨𝗥𝗔 𝗥𝗜𝗞𝗜 - “it’s okay to be tired.”
riki had been looking forward to spending the day with you, but as he watches you curled up on the couch, he notices something isn’t right. you are normally so full of life and energy, but today, you're dull. your spark is somewhat muted.
“y/n,” he whispers, sitting down beside you. “you okay? you seem a bit… off.”
you look up, forcing a small smile, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “yeah, i’m fine. Just a bit tired, i guess.”
riki stares at your face and notices how you turn your eyes away, attempting not to show fatigue. “you know, it’s okay to be tired. you don’t have to hide it from me. everyone has those days.”
you shrugged it off as if it were nothing. “i didn’t want to ruin our day.”
he shakes his head, worry creasing his eyes. “you could never ruin our time together. if you’re feeling overwhelmed, it’s totally normal. you don’t have to put on a brave face all the time.”
you take a deep breath and look away, feeling a sense of guilt creeping in. “i just didn’t want to burden you with my problems.”
“listen,” riki says gently, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “feeling tired and needing a break doesn’t make you weak. it just means you’re human. we all have our limits. i care about you, and it’s okay to share how you really feel.”
you meet his gaze, feeling a mix of relief and gratitude. “i appreciate that, riki. i guess i just thought i should be able to handle it all.”
he smiles softly, his voice steady. “there’s strength in acknowledging when you need help. so, how about we take a break together? we can watch a movie and order your favorite takeout. no stress, just a cozy day.”
your heart warms at his thoughtfulness. “that sounds perfect.”
“great! i’ll grab my phone,” he says, jumping up with newfound energy. as he moves around the room, you feel a sense of comfort wash over you. riki has a way of making you feel understood, reminding you that it’s okay to let your guard down.
as the two of you settle in for a cozy afternoon, laughter and lightheartedness return, slowly chasing away the shadows of your worries. when he finally sits back down beside you, he leans closer, gently brushing a stray hair from your face.
“just remember, i’m always here for you,” he whispers, his eyes warm as the word spoken.
before you can respond, he leans in and presses a soft kiss to your forehead, his touch lingering as a wave of comfort washes over you. in that moment, you feel a sense of peace, knowing that with riki by your side, you can be your true self without fear.
perm taglist. @honeychocos @kozumesphone @manaah02 (open)
wyll taglist. @lilly-cherry7 (comment or ask to be added)
©levandright
#lev writes#ᐢ..ᐢ wyll#enhypen#enhypen x reader#enhypen fluff#enhypen x you#enhypen drabbles#enhypen imagines#enha x reader#enha fluff#enha imagines#enhypen scenarios#heeseung x reader#lee heeseung#jay x reader#enhypen jay#jake x reader#sim jake#sunghoon x reader#park sunghoon#kim sunoo#sunoo x reader#enhypen jungwon#jungwon x reader#yang jungwon#ni ki#nishimura riki#ni ki x reader#kpop x reader#kpop
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📄 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐁𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐲
Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Reader
𝐀𝐎3 | 𝐌𝐲 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬 | 𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
𝐒𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.9k
𝐓𝐖 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐖: Married couple, Unprotected sex, SMUT, kissing, vaginal fingering, brief cum eating, tit sucking, giving Miguel a hand job while he explains the male anatomy 🫡 brief praises, body worship, eventual breeding kink, mentions of contraceptive pills, couple role play(?)
𝐀/𝐍: Is it me or has tumblr updated and it’s harder to use now?? Like I can’t move images like I used to?! Anyways this is inspired by my old mutuals fic (Salty if you see this, hey bestie!! That Doc fic examining player still lives rent free in my head!) Anyways, enjoy!!
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: In an effort to make amends for neglecting Miguel, you dedicate a night to spend quality time together. However, Miguel has other ideas to make the evening unforgettable— using science.
Your joints clicked as you stood up from your work chair. You’ve finally finished your project that you’ve been putting your blood, sweat and tears into and sacrificed your sleeping schedule to complete.
Your body felt stiff and heavy from sitting in one place for so long. The apartment was quiet as expected to be at this late hour, amplifying the creaks of your joints.
You switched off the monitor before you left your office and plodded upstairs to the bedroom with heavy steps and slouching shoulders.
You found Miguel in the bedroom, engrossed in tinkering with his watch with only his sweatpants on and no shirt.
His eyes crinkled up as he sensed your presence. “There she is…”
You didn’t feel like you deserved his acknowledgment, let alone his affection, especially the way you’ve neglected him for your work the past few days.
He didn’t expect you to say anything back but he felt the weight of your solemn expression, “¿Estás bien?
You shake your head mutely in response, guilt washing over you. He stepped closer, closing the distance with a gentle stride. “Talk to me, what’s wrong?”
Your mouth was dry from the lack of fluids you’ve been avoiding, making your voice slightly hoarse “I’m sorry, I’ve been pushing you away.”
He lowered himself and held your chin with his thumb to tilt your head up so you would look at him. The gesture made your heart ache.
“Is that why you’re upset? You know I’m not going anywhere. I’ll always come back to you mi alma,” he murmured.
Even if he did lower himself to be level with you, he still felt bigger. It made you feel protected, the way he towered over you with his large frame.
The holographic lamp illuminated the room, casting a gentle glow. With its subtle lighting you could see the crimson gleam from Miguel’s eyes, which melted the weight of your stress from the past few days and the newfound guilt.
You were glad the main light wasn’t on to flood the room with its sickening bright glow that would scream at you — your eyes needed a rest from the screen and the absence of flood lights gave that comfort you needed.
He leaned in to kiss you and you tiptoed to deepen the kiss. It felt refreshing, feeling his lips again— almost like an anchor that kept you grounded.
You wrapped your arms around his neck while he wrapped his around your waist. His tongue teased your lips before slipping in, tasting you and you let him take his fill of you before pulling away.
“Miguel…” you breathed, hesitant to break the peace in the room.
“How about we shift our focus on a different kind of study.” He suggested. There was a lighthearted undertone in his sentence that you tried to articulate.
You cocked your brow inquisitively until you remembered Miguel’s background in the science field. “Study? As in science?”
“Science is such a broad term. Let’s start with biology and anatomy,”
You heart stuttered in both anticipation and excitement along with your core already throbbing. You could already sense where this was going as soon as you heard anatomy. The atmosphere felt charged guided by the intimate spirit of Miguel’s proposal.
He lifted you up before gently placing you on the bed.
Being a skilled geneticist, Miguel seized every opportunity to share random biology facts, particularly in the most unexpected moments with you.
It was one of the many things you found attractive about him, especially seeing him being so engrossed in explaining things to you in a way you would understand. It made the complexities of biology feel like an intimate and shared journey.
But you’ve never seen him act like this before sex. Perhaps he was trying something new to keep the spark alive.
“How about we remove your clothes.” His hands hiked up beneath your shirt as he spoke.
“Is this part of the biology teaching?” You asked.
“Let’s just say it’s part of the more practical application.” He removed your shirt and your pants, leaving you in your panties and bra. “And you’re the specimen.”
You were amused with where this was going, seeing Miguel’s professional act starting to surface. A scientist eager to teach (and please).
You felt him run his hand over your neck. Spots of goosebumps rose on your skin from the cool air in the room.
“Your skin is so soft…” He murmured into your sensitive skin, making you shiver.
Another advantage of being married to a geneticist was that Miguel knew all the sensitive areas on the body and what made you tick. Even before you did anything together, he was aware of all the areas that could arouse a woman.
His lips grazed over your collarbone, trailing down to where it meets the shoulders.
“The collarbone is connected to your shoulders by the supraclavicular ligament,” he explained softly. He kissed the soft skin around the area.
“Suprac—clavic—ular ligament—” Each syllable accelerated in pitch as you tried to repeat after him.
His hand reached behind your back to unclip your bra before slipping them off, one strap at a time.
Your breasts were now fully exposed and he reached over and cupped one with his large hands.
“The breasts are a collection of organs that play an important role in the reproduction of human females, amor. They are key to producing milk,” He kissed along your chest until he reached the valley between the two breasts.
“They also serve to attract a sexual partner…which seems to be working on us.”
You didn’t expect him to lick the skin where his lips hovered over between your breasts. You shuddered in shock until he pulled away to look up at you again.
“They’re also erogenous zones, making them more sensitive to simulations. Would you like me to demonstrate?” You nodded in response.
You managed to catch the corner of his lips curve up in amusement, even if he made a concerted effort to conceal how turned on he was right now.
He wore the familiar analytical veneer he always carried when he was working in the lab, except this time you could see his excitement babbling beneath the surface.
He dipped his head until his mouth latched onto one of your breasts. Despite knowing this was going to happen, you couldn’t help the surprise whimper that slipped from your mouth.
His tongue lapped over your hardened nipple while his other hand still fondled with your other breast. You groaned out from his touches, running one of your hands over the locks of his hair.
It was flattering, seeing Miguel soaking in everything from you, even when you felt like you had little to offer. Miguel seemed to never get enough of you and to this day, your heart still leaped out of you chest with him around.
He released your nipples and you were met with hooded crimson eyes, dazed and awestrucked. You couldn’t stop your shoulders from bunching together in shyness at him.
He moneuvered you so you were laying your back on the bed. Two broad arms rested besides you on the bed with his abs displayed over you.
“Between the legs are the female reproductive system, we’ll be focusing on the labia minora and the labia majora for this lesson,”
He pulled your panties down, revealing your wetness between your thighs.
A sudden rush of cold air brushed against your folds, making you more wet and exposed. His hand reached over, extending out of your line of sight until his fingers were lightly stroking around the delicate flesh.
“The labia minora is a set of two fleshy folds that form around the inner portion of the labia majora. They are positioned around the vaginal opening to protect the urethra and…”
You gasped when you felt one of his fingers slip into your slick cunt before slowly moving in and out of you.
“…and the vagina.”
His sentence was finished off with the soft sounds of your slick from his fingers along with your breathy moans. Your walls fluttered around his finger while he slipped in another digit in, prompting you to grip onto the sheets tightly.
He moved to your ear and spoke in a lowered tone, his breath brushing against your earlobe. “Do you remember which hormones are released when a person is aroused?”
He rubbed his thumb over your swollen clit while watching you fall apart from his touches. You couldn’t fully process the question in your head, let alone form a coherent response.
“God— Miguel-!” You babbled out.
“Come on amor, I know you know the answer,” he coaxed, having the audacity to continue teasing your cunt with his fingers.
He was going to keep teasing until he got an answer from you. You wouldn’t be surprised if he refused to let you come too until you responded to him with the right answer.
“O-oxytocin and…hm-m…serotonin?” Your words came staggered and breathless. You were fighting the urge to rock your hips further to ride on his finger but you knew better not to push your luck. This was for science after all.
“Such a smart wife. Are you feeling it, amor? The euphoric feeling and the release of the hormones throughout your body?” Miguel was still near your ear as he asked.
You were so drawn into bliss, you almost forgot about the whole biology lesson and the practical demonstration.
You could tell that watching how responsive you were to his touches excited him, especially if it included him talking about what he knew best.
He withdrew his his hands away and curved his finger so none of your slick slipped away. He spread his fingers apart, watching the string of your fluids clinging onto the pads of his fingers.
You felt your face heat up in astonishment, you’ve never seen yourself leak that much before.
You weren’t surprised to see him stick his fingers in his mouth to clean himself up. He ate you out before so this was nothing new to him.
Once he was satisfied, he manoeuvred himself to remove his pants along with his boxers, freeing his aching cock. Despite the low lighting, you could still see it throbbing and the veins lining on the skin.
You sat up enough so you could reach to his cock. You wrapped your hand around his length, earning a low groan from him. “Since we covered the female, do you wanna walk me through the male anatomy now?”
You swiped your thumb over the tip where his pre-cum was leaking from. You were purposefully tormenting him now.
“You’re unbelievable,” he grunted, but you could clearly see he couldn’t stop the grin tugging on his lips.
“Come on Mig, do it for biology,”
You started stroking his length, making sure you touched every part of his skin from the base to the tip.
His breathing became shallow with low whimpers stringing out but he tried to compose himself before he spoke.
“The penis and the testicles both….have a lot of blood flow to them but— hmm.. the main purpose of the testicles is to produce testosterone and—” He couldn’t help the low moan that came out when he felt you increase your pace, but he was still determined to finish.
“Go on…” you prodded.
“…produce testosterone and sperm cells…dios— the penis….the penis is the biggest part of the male anatomy. It allows urination, ejaculation or urine and semen, shit! It also helps the male with erection-!” He finished off the last sentence in one shaky breath. Your hand came to a halt around his tip.
“Thanks for the clarification…” You released his dick swiftly, satisfied by his explanation.
After catching his breath and recomposing himself, Miguel positioned himself so his dick was near your opening. His tip nuzzled against your folds with you silky walls clenching desperately onto nothingness.
You were ready for him, even your clit was throbbing in anticipation, and there was nothing you wanted more than to have him inside you right now.
“Now that we’ve completed the preliminary, I think we should come to the conclusion,” he said.
You couldn’t help the breathy giggles from your lips. He was really immersing himself in the role, playing the part of a tutor with dedication and charm.
He pushed himself inside of you. You haven’t done anything in a while so you had to allow yourself to readjust to his length again.
You fleshy walls struggled to open up but eventually you did accomodate to his size, feeling the familiarity of him.
Once he was all the way in, he came to a halt. Feeling yourself stretch out for him was dizzying. But sudden realisation hit you.
“Miguel, I might be on my fertility window…” you interjected, a tinge of nervousness in your voice.
While you and Miguel have discussed growing a family together in the past, the timing never felt right, and you weren’t ready for the responsibility of motherhood yet.
You’ve been taking birth control pills for your peace of mind. However, with the onset of your work project, you’ve stopped taking the pills and your body was still adjusting to the withdrawal— including your accelerated libido.
Miguel’s face didn’t falter but you could practically see the gears turning in his head from your statement. Everything felt more apparent, especially now with his dick buried inside of you.
“What are you trying to tell me, amor?” You could feel his cock twitching in anticipation inside of you and touching your cervix, almost making you lose your bearing.
“I’m off the pills Miguel. So there’s a chance that I might get knocked up after this…but it is part of biology, right?”
You ran your hands over his broad chest and he closed his eyes, leaning into your touch before resting his forehead on yours.
“You wanna be a mami?” He asked, assuring full clarity and consent from you.
Miguel, a devoted lover, would do anything to make you happy and would give you a family if that’s what you wished for. You nodded and that’s when you knew, he was ready for fatherhood too.
Your hands now wrapped around his naps, fingers lacing together. His gaze dropping to where you bodies joined.
He dragged himself out, feeling the suction from your walls, before snapping his hips back in again. The friction against your walls forced a whine out of you.
He began rolling his hips repeatedly against you in a steady rhythm, each slap ending in a jolt of overwhelming ecstasy. Your fingers were losing their grip around his neck and your hands slipped, with your nails now pressing onto his back.
Your mind and senses started to evaporate and all you could think of right now was chasing your high and Miguel filling you up with his cum, staining you and finally getting you pregnant.
You wanted to feel him for weeks, feel how much he stretched you and filled you. Your nails were digging further into his back as he thrusted deeper into you, hitting your cervix with each snap of his hips.
“Gimme a baby, Mig.” You moaned out, the mere throughly of him breeding you drove you insane. You needed his fill, you needed him to knock you up.
“Sí amor, I’ll give you as many babies as you want,”
His thrusts became more sporadic and you sensed he was lost in a haze too. A few strands of his hair stuck to the moisture that developed on his forehead. You were sinking further into the sheets, taking in everything he was giving you.
The room filled with the bed creaking in protest and the slap of his hips into yours. Soon, his pace became sloppy and uneven.
You watched the familiar trence of your husband’s climax unfold. You always felt a sense of pride knowing that only you could see him so scattered outside the composed and stoic demeanor that everyone else was used to.
His brows furrowed in full concentration and his words came out messy and slurred along with strings of your name.
He finished off with his cum pulsating inside of you in thick loads. He didn’t pull his his hips back until both balls were drenched into you. You felt your walls clenched from the withdrawal as he pulled out.
Immediately, Miguel grabbed one of the pillows and positioned it beneath you, elevating your rear.
“Keep it in there,” he instructed. He didn’t want any of his cum to go to waste and leak out.
He starts to massage your thighs to sooth any aches you were feeling. You mind drifted back to the birth control pill that you still kept in the cabinet. There was still another box left, yet you knew that you weren’t planning to take them anymore.
You mentally reminded yourself to dispose them in the morning. You looked up at Miguel again, who was still massaging your thighs.
You sighed. “You know there’s a chance I might not get pregnant the first time…”
In that moment, vulnerability wrapped around your words which connected the both of you in shared acknowledgment.
You let your mind wandered about finally getting pregnant, with Miguel praising you and kissing your swollen belly. You imagined all the appointments you’d have to attend to, leading up to the day of your baby’s arrival.
“So, does that mean we’ll be having more biology classes?” Miguel stopped massaging and spread you legs again to display your slick core.
“I think so…how about another round?”
He leaned into kiss your forehead. “I’m down if you are.”
𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: @slootbear @thealleydog @huniedeux @lazy-idate @club-danger-zone @blankknsfww @ivory3577 @spdrwdw @migueloharasoulmate @ednaaa-04 @miguelbaby @alyeskathewave @r7yirr @palesatan @keigoloveminty @krentkova19 @laysmt @daisy-artfield @famouscattale @fairywitch2000 @lazyjellyfish300 @ii-angelsrolltheireyes-ii
Does anyone recognise the banner I used at the top of the post??
Part 2
#★— ayrus writes#♦︎— spicy#❤︎ scientist husband ❤︎#miguel o'hara fanfiction#miguel o'hara smut#miguel o’hara imagine#miguel o'hara imagine#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o’hara smut#miguel ohara x reader#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel o'hara#atsv miguel#miguel o’hara x y/n#miguel o’hara x you#miguel o’hara fanfiction#miguel o’hara across the spider verse#spiderman 2099 x you#spiderman 2099 x reader#spiderman 2099 spiderverse#spiderman 2099#miguel spiderman#spiderman atsv#atsv x reader#miguel spiderverse
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Your Name Is a Sin I Breathe Like Oxygen
Pairing: Demon!Rhysand x Angel!Reader
Kinktober 2024: Corruption
Description: Rhysand won't rest until he's brought his angel down to hell with him.
Warnings: Smut, oral sex, hand job, things that shouldn't be happening in a church, this is definitely sacrilegious, slight dom/sub dynamics, dirty talk
Word Count: 3,5k
Rating: 18+ MDNI
Notes: This story kept getting longer and longer, i don't know what happened, but I could actually write a part 2 eventually if anyone wants. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!
Kinktober 2024 Masterlist
It's not often you find yourself walking alone. If you put aside the apprehension you were feeling you could admit that it was a beautiful night, and that walking through the field with only the faint sound of the wind and faraway crickets felt incredibly relaxing. Unfortunately, the reason behind this walk was anything but relaxing, in fact it was about to change your life forever.
An abandoned church comes into view, the fact that no believers lingered within should have been enough for you to turn back, but you find yourself walking towards it instead. The overgrown weeds and flowers obscured the path, one no one had used in decades - no one except for him, and now you.
The hairs on the back of your neck stand on end as you walk closer, the undeniably dark energy coming from inside could only mean one thing. It makes you pause in your steps, walking to him would be giving in, you knew better than anyone, but walking away brought a weight to your chest you didn't think you could survive, didn't think you would want to.
And so you step inside, one foot in front of the other, leading you deeper into sin, straight to your downfall.
The inside of the church was barren, almost every object having been sold or destroyed by humans. Had he brought you here to show you how ungrateful and destructive humans could be? It certainly wasn't anything new to you.
The demon stood at the altar, back turned to you as he studied the way the weeds had traveled up the walls, obscuring any remaining holy images. The black clothes he wore were the complete contrast to your long white dress. The suit pants fit him perfectly, tailored to his body, and the shirt seemed to be made of a soft almost translucent material, showcasing the muscles hiding under it. There was no doubt in your mind that he had led numerous souls to perdition.
You knew he could feel your presence, probably ever since you set foot on this field. At first you almost feel thankful that he was choosing to ignore you and let you make your own decision with no rush, but it soon turned into annoyance when you realized he's forcing you to accept that you came here of your own choice, so you can't try to blame him. It shouldn't surprise you that he's not going easy on you, he never has.
“Rhysand,” you call out his name when it's obvious he won't be the one to acknowledge you first.
Your voice trembles despite your best efforts, and even though you've grown accustomed to seeing him, - more than you ever should have, - a chill still runs down your spine when he turns slowly and his striking violet eyes fall on you, heart racing in your chest as his smirk grows.
“I knew you wouldn't disappoint me, my sweet angel,” he says with a hint of pride.
His voice sends goosebumps over your skin, unfortunately you can't even bring yourself to try and justify them as a result of solely fear, there's something else blooming in the pit of your stomach, and growing heavier on your chest.
Rhysand walks to you, every instinct telling you to turn back and run, but you don't, you stay in place, watching him take every step with damning anticipation.
“Are you finally ready to stop playing these fruitless games?”
A glare passes through your eyes, but you hold your tongue. What he calls games was your duty to God and the remaining angels, to the good in the world, one you had failed completely by even breathing near him, let alone the lengthy talks you've had. Still, you couldn't deny that you had been grasping at it far longer than you should have.
If you were being honest with yourself, you had fallen the first time you saw him and let him tease you to no end without ever reaching for your sword, when you saw an injured demon and decided to help him instead of finishing the job, you lost the moment you allowed him to ever put a smile on your face, and a need you couldn't even begin to explain inside you.
He raises a hand slowly, tentatively reaching for your face, half expecting you to push him away like you had done every other time. When you still don't move, only looking into his eyes, not even sure what you were searching for, he lets out a breath, smirk broadening on his face, putting his sharp canines on display. He had already won, you both knew it.
“Not running from me this time?”
His hand cups your cheek, thumb caressing your skin softly, much too innocently for the look playing in his eyes and the dark energy emitting off him in thick waves. When the pad of his thumb runs over your bottom lip, playing with the plump flesh, and you still don't move, a sound suspiciously close to a moan escapes him.
“Gonna let me do anything I want to you?” He leans closer, breath hitting your skin, and you can't help but close your eyes, nails sinking into the palms of your hands, balling your fists as hard as you could. It was too much, he was too much.
A tremble runs through your form, that calm and collected front you put up crumbling with every second. You nod, eyes still closed and heart racing when you feel his lips fall on yours, delicately, so unlike him. This isn't something you ever remember doing, if you had at all, the memories of your human life had long since been erased, but your lips move against his as if kissing him came naturally to you.
When he pulls away, far too soon for your liking, you open your eyes on instinct, fear rearing its head as you watch him. The glamor he wore in the human world had been dropped, revealing sharp canine teeth and slits running through his beautiful violet irises. The marks etched onto his chest were unknown to you, but you recognized them as some sort of demonic spell.
His hand was wrapped around your neck, having moved there while he kissed you, except now it was covered in black up to his wrist, the pigment visible in lines as it ran through his veins up his arm. And his wings, you're surprised they hadn't been the first thing you noticed. They stood tall behind him, dark crimson bat-like wings, easily twice the size of your white feathered ones. You can't help, but pull your own in closer to your body at the sight.
Rhysand looked positively wicked, downright sinful, as he studied you intensely, eyes running through every inch of exposed skin with a knowing look shining in the violet. This was the face of a predator watching its prey, except he had no plans of killing you, and that excited you far too much for your own good.
“Need you to answer me, angel,” he purrs, holding onto your chin when you go to nod once again, “Use your words.”
Your eyes widen slightly, swallowing down the nerves before finally finding your voice, and whatever courage or stupidity you had left, “I won't run. Not from you.”
A moan escapes him, a pleased sound coming from deep in his chest, and he kisses you again, a lot more passionately than before, his tongue exploring every inch of your mouth while you struggle to keep up. His hands roam over your body, sending a flurry of butterflies flying inside your stomach, pulling you closer into him, humming into the kiss when you finally manage to move, your hands reaching for his chest tentatively, falling over his overheated skin.
A noise behind him almost pulls your attention away, but he quickly steals it back when he starts kissing down your neck, biting softly onto the unmarred skin, marking it with his teeth, a demon was marking you as his own, and God helped you, you were moaning in pleasure as he did.
It's only when he starts walking backwards, a firm arm wrapped around your waist pulling you along with him and sits down, that you notice the sound you heard earlier was a chair being magically pushed to the center of the altar. Your body wants to follow him, wanting to keep his mouth on your neck, or bring it back to yours, but his hands fall on your hips, stopping you, keeping you on your feet, standing between his legs as he looks up at you with a smirk, one that keeps growing as he takes note of your heavy lidded eyes and soft pants escaping your agape mouth, the crease between your brows.
“I'll keep kissing you in a moment,” he assures, your treacherous body relaxing under his grip. He chuckles at this, you were certainly making this a lot easier for him than he imagined.
“Wanna take your dress off for me first?”
This makes you tense up once more, almost taking a step back if it weren't for his hold on you. He lets out an understanding hum, though it comes out tainted with a hint of condescension.
“I know they like keeping you innocent and pure up there, but if you want to keep going you'll have to let go of all of that.” He tilts his head, catching your gaze. “I can't fuck you properly with your clothes on.”
It's obvious you couldn't keep the embarrassment over his choice of words out of your expression when he laughs, leaning forward and hiding his face on your stomach, only worsening the already accelerated rhythm of your heart.
“I'm not sure how I feel about you using me for your own amusement,” you did your best to keep your voice from trembling, grasping for some sense of control over the situation.
“You know exactly how it makes you feel,” he murmurs against the fabric of your dress, kissing over your navel before leaning back against the chair, both of his hands falling from your body, and immediately you miss his warmth on you.
Rhysand doesn't say anything else, but he didn't need to, his eyes said it all as he watched you, he wouldn't repeat himself. You find yourself looking up behind him, where familiar statues should be if this were a working church. Could they see you now?
“Eyes on me,” the demon orders. Your gaze meets his immediately, a hint of fear running through your body. “The only people in the world that matter right now are you and me.”
He was wrong. Your actions would cause a lot of trouble and it wouldn't be only for you. The same way his triumph over you wouldn't affect only him. This moment would be recorded in history for both of your worlds, but you had already made your choice, you were more than aware that it was the wrong one as well, and so you reach for the buttons on your dress, undoing them with shaky hands, eyes never straying from his this time, not even when you let the dress drop at your feet, revealing your untainted skin to his hungry eyes.
It feels like the world stopped spinning when his eyes moved from yours and traveled down your body, taking note of every inch appreciatively. Fighting the urge to cover yourself was harder than you imagined it would be, and for some reason the urge to touch him and strip him of his own clothes was even stronger.
“Get on your knees.”
“What?”
The desire in his eyes only grows when he senses your hesitation. He wanted you to fall kneeling down at the altar, the same way you had ascended.
Rhysand sits up again, reaching for your hand and bringing two of your fingers into his mouth, sucking on them and swirling his tongue around. You can't help but let out a gasp, your thighs pressing together, eyes transfixed on his mouth.
He pulls them out and kisses your palm innocently, unable to hide the grin on his lips. “ I want you to suck my cock, angel,” he clarifies, as if you didn't know what he meant, as if that wasn't the reason you were holding back.
“I've never-” You swallow, not wanting to avert your gaze and be warned against it again, but finding it incredibly difficult to keep looking into those sinful violet eyes of his. “I don't know how.”
“I'll teach you.”
He made it seem like it was the easiest thing in the world, that he wasn't talking about something that would condemn you to eternal damnation at his side, but you knew what you wanted to do, knew what you were going to do, and so you drop to your knees in front of the demon, looking up at him like he was your God.
You can almost feel the light getting sucked out of you, disappearing in the midst of his darkness. It almost makes you wonder how you ended up like this, if fate had already seen this end for you, if it would have still happened if you hadn't met him. The thought makes your heart feel tight for some reason.
His hand grabs your neck unexpectedly, pulling you up so he could kiss you once again, easing your nerves somewhat, everything else disappearing when his mouth fell over yours. When he pulls away you find yourself chasing after him, and he simply chuckles and gives you one more kiss, pulling away for good with a playful lick over your lips, leaning back against the chair like a king on his throne.
“You need to take my cock out to start,” he says after a while with a hint of amusement. You didn't know why you thought he would make this any easier. Shaky hands fall over his pants, slowly unbuttoning them, trying your best to ignore the beating of your heart and most of all the hardness visible through the fabric. Rhysand seemed to enjoy every second of it, you could almost hear him purring in delight.
With a deep breath you push his underwear down, revealing him to your terrified but curious eyes, gasping softly when his cock springs free, falling against his stomach. Biting your lip, your hand moved to grab him, not knowing what else to do, you squeeze him harder, a tingling feeling rushing over your stomach when he rewards you with a moan, startled eyes finding his.
It shouldn't come as a surprise that you find him already watching you, he hadn't taken his eyes off you ever since you first arrived after all, but it almost makes you feel like you were caught doing something you were not supposed to.
“Maybe you're a natural.”
“I-”
“I know, angel,” he assures, voice deepened by something you couldn't quite put your finger on, his hand coming down to cup your head, bringing you in closer, a sigh escaping him when you offer no resistance. “I'll show you.”
Rhysand surprises you one more time when he leans up and lets his spit drop over the head of his cock, his hand spreading it down to the base and falling over yours, guiding your hand up and down his length, tightening your hold on him.
“I'll let you start slow,” he says with a teasing grin in between moans, “so you can't say I'm not considerate.”
You roll your eyes lightly, too focused on the task at hand and your every instinct screaming at you, to tamper it down. He chuckles and lets go of your hand, letting you take over, entranced by the way your fist barely fits around him and every noise that escapes him.
“As good as this feels, I know your mouth will feel a lot better.”
Right. You knew that's what he wanted, but while this is manageable, just the thought of going further makes you freeze.
“I shouldn't be doing this,” your voice is barely above a whisper.
“No, you shouldn't,” he murmurs, looking down at you with an evil twinkle in his eyes, “but that doesn't matter anymore.”
You couldn't turn back the clock, and even if you begged on your knees and repented for thousands of years you wouldn't be allowed back into heaven, not after letting things get this far. You've passed the point of no return, there was nothing stopping you from letting yourself get consumed by sin, by him.
He notices the change in your eyes, but says nothing, his hand moving back to your head instead, helping guide your movements just like he had promised he would earlier, still keeping his touch light in case you wanted to move back.
“Lick me from base to tip, fuck just like that. Keep your eyes on me.” You do your best to let your body follow his commands without thinking, focusing on the sounds he makes, finding power in knowing you're the reason behind them. “Now suck over the head, swirl your tongue around like I did with your fingers.”
It's hard to know what to expect when you never thought you'd be doing something like this in the first place, but you certainly didn't realize how enjoyable it could be for you. The choked moan he lets out when you suck on the head again without him instructing you to, gathering the liquid leaking from his tip with your tongue brings you more pleasure than anything ever has before.
“Try taking as much into your mouth as you can.” The way his voice is getting breathier motivates you to do better, wanting to make him feel even a bit of the way you did every time he's around. “Just be careful with your teeth and relax your throat, you're doing so good for me.”
He helped you with his grip on your head, pushing himself inside your mouth slowly, pausing for a moment every time you gagged. It was hard to hold his gaze, not only from embarrassment but also from the tears gathering in your eyes, but you did, God you did every little thing he told you to and more, reveling in his reactions.
“What a good little angel.”
This makes you glare up at him, teeth scraping along his skin as a warning, of course he only laughs in response, thumbing at your cheek, entranced by the way his sweet little angel sucks his cock, a little fire in her eyes, just the way he likes it.
A shudder runs through him, and you suspect you know exactly what it means. Fitting all of him inside your mouth would be impossible, it feels surreal that you even made it this far, so you start pumping your hand over the rest of his length in sync with the way your mouth moves over him, having to stop yourself from smiling when it draws out even louder moans from him, his hand tugging at your hair harder, losing himself - it wasn't even close to how far you drifted from your now former self, but it was a start, a small victory of your own even if you won it amidst your defeat.
Even if it happened because of your efforts, you're still surprised when he spills inside your mouth, hips lifting off the chair to thrust in a couple of times as he lets out sick praises and mumbles of your name. When he pulls out of you, the strain in your jaw catches up to you, and you can't help but cough when you take in too much air.
You swallowed everything on instinct, not truly knowing what else to do, but it seemed to please him as he caressed your face, making an even bigger mess of it with a triumphant look in his eyes. This is what he had always wanted, to see you broken at his feet, completely at his mercy.
“What now?”
You were almost scared to ask, afraid he would throw you away now that he's gotten what he wanted. Your voice came out scratchy, a slow ache forming in your abused throat, a reminder of what you had done.
The demon looked confused for a moment, his smile faltering slightly and a crease forming between his brows, almost as if he didn't understand your defeated expression. You had never asked but judging from his body, he had been born a demon so he would never know what it was like to be an angel, and fall in such a shameful way.
He blows air through his nose and looks up for a moment, amusement settling over his face. Grabbing you by your underarms, he lifts you up onto his lap before you even have a chance to react, hands falling over his chest.
“Now I'm going to take you to your new home, my little demon,” he whispers, leaning closer and brushing his lips against yours playfully, unable to hide the chuckle when your eyes widen further at the new pet name, “and I'm going to help you with that little problem between your legs, show you pleasure you never thought possible.”
#rhysand x reader#rhys x reader#rhysand smut#rhysand x y/n#rhysand fanfic#acotar x reader#acotar fanfiction#acotar smut#acotar kinktober
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Title: Final Girl.
Pairing: Yandere!Chrollo x Reader (HxH).
Word Count: 1.4k.
TW: 'Girl' Is In The Title But Reader Is Gender Neutral, Death and Blood, Mentions of Guns, Manipulation, Implied Kidnapping, and Spoilers for the Ninteenth-Century Novel Dracula.
The night you met him was, by no coincidence, also the night you learned what it meant to feel your blood run cold.
‘Met’ might’ve been an exaggeration. You didn’t meet him so much as you stood still and stared at him – lumbering down the hallway, clutching a gore-splattered butcher's knife, his suit disheveled and stained with a dark, blotting substance you couldn’t bring yourself to put a name to, in your fear-induced paralysis. With the manor's high ceilings and dim lighting, he seemed impossibly tall, his black eyes blank and terrible, his smile manic in a way that sent a chill up your spine, that left you frozen where you stood and unable to run as he came to stand in front of you, as he raised a hand and—
And pointed to the book tucked under your arm, a yellowed paperback beaten to hell and back from weeks of loving abuse. You’d spent hours wondering if you should bring it with you, if there was anyone else on the face of the planet who’d be stupid enough to bring a book to a mascarade ball, but you figured you’d have to step out for a breath of fresh air at some point, tonight, and phones weren’t really an option at this kind of thing. Looking back on it, you struggled to remember why you’d spent so much time agonizing over something so inconsequential, especially when whoever found your body likely wouldn’t pay it a second glance. “Is that—” He started, pausing to wet his lips before correcting himself. “Is that Bram Stoker’s Dracula?”
You blinked several times, shifting your weight. “It is,” you managed, eventually, just before the point of no return. “I… I’m only a few chapters in, though. They’re only on the second blood transfusion.”
His smile widened. “I’m reading it for the second time, now. That’s one of the best passages - you can practically feel the dread mounting in the prose.” While he spoke, you stole another glance at his attire. With your shock beginning to fade and your nerves given a few seconds to cool, you could see that he clearly hadn’t just walked out of a crime scene. His clothes were wrinkled, but not torn, not displaced the way they would’ve been if he’d been in a real fight, and he was covered in a cartoonish amount of (presumably fake) blood. He couldn’t have meant for it to be realistic, not unless you were supposed to believe he’d bled twenty people dry on his own.
He must’ve noticed you staring. His rambling trailed off into an airy chuckle, his free hand drifting to his blood-soaked shirt. “I’m afraid I might’ve misread my invitation,” he admitted, with a slight shrug. You were almost in awe of his nonchalance. Showing up to a masquerade ball in a costume fit for a b-rated haunted house would’ve left you catatonic for… god, the rest of the year, at least. “That’s how I found my way back here, actually. You can understand why I wouldn’t want to stay in the ballroom for very long, considering I’m dressed for a very different party.”
“No, no, that makes a lot of sense! I mean, a costume party would be more in-season.” You felt like an idiot. You could only hope you hadn’t looked as scared as you felt. “Honestly, I’m just surprised they let you in with a prop.”
He glanced to his ‘knife’, too, as if he’d forgotten he was holding it. “Oh, this little thing?” He took the blade in his free hand, bending it downward. Unceremoniously, it snapped into two pieces as easily as if it’d been made of little more than tin foil and plastic - which, to be fair, it probably was. “Most people struggle to see me as a threat, for whatever reason.”
“The doormen probably just felt bad for the strange man who showed up to a charity gala covered in blood.” You spared a small smile, then genuinely brightened, taking up your novel and fishing out the spare mask you’d shoved between the pages while you were getting ready. He should’ve counted himself lucky that you could never be bothered to find a real bookmark. “Mine came in a set of two,” you explained, signaling for him to bend down. A little too easily, he obeyed, stooping just low enough for you to work your spare mask over his head. It was cheaper than anything you would usually like to show off – the base simple black cloth, the embroidery meaninglessly gaudy, the main body kept in place by little more than a simple white ribbon that never seemed to sit just right, but he accepted your offering with a grateful hum. “It’s not much, but—” You paused, buttoning his suit jacket, doing your best to make it look a little less like he’d just walked out of a bad slasher movie and a little more like a tragically color-blind, but ultimately well-dressed party-goer. “It should get you through the door.”
He straightened his back, and you thought you might’ve seen something spark in his dark eyes. Then again, it could’ve just been the moonlight. “I don’t think I ever got your name.”
Oh, right – that was something most people did before offering to fix a stranger’s clothes, wasn’t it? You rushed to introduce yourself, and he did the same. “Chrollo Lucilfer.” And then, offering you his hand, “Perhaps I’d be more warmly received with a plus one?”
As hesitant as you were to slip back into the ballroom on the arm of a disheveled stranger who’d already made an impression of his own, it would’ve broken your heart to turn him down. That, and you might’ve had a weakness for disheveled strangers who fell on the more handsome side of the spectrum.
You laughed as you threaded your arm through his, letting Chrollo guide you back to the main event. A second passed with only the sound of your footsteps and distance music to fill the quiet, then another. Eventually, you broke the silence. “It’s very well-written,” you started, trying to fight the urge to fidget. “But… I don’t think I’m the right audience. I care too much about Lucy. Seeing her go through so much and knowing she’s not going to make it is just—” You sighed, shook your head. “It’s agony. Especially when the villain is literally in the title. I mean, I know the characters don’t know that, but still.”
“The benefit of a voyeur's perspective.” For all his glowing praise, he didn’t seem very offended. “I think the dramatic irony is part of the appeal. By the time the tension breaks, it’s nearly too painful to keep going.”
“Which is exactly why it hurts to read,” you groaned, slumping into his side. “I get why it’s happening, but I just can’t stand spending so long on the build-up knowing how it’s going to end. It probably doesn’t help that Lucy’s one of my favorites, either. Well, aside from Mina, but it wouldn’t be fair to compare her to the author’s self-insert.”
The two of you came to a pair of rounded oak doors. There’d been a pair of attendants stationed outside when you left, but Chrollo didn’t seem to mind shouldering it open himself, ushering you inside with a smile and an idle gesture. You took a second to steel your nerves, still not entirely prepared to throw yourself into a very crowded room filled with very loud music and very eager socialites, then crossed the threshold, coming face to face with—
Carnage. Pure, unadulterated carnage.
There were bodies everywhere, each corpse mangled and bruised and broken in every possible way. Dark blood and broken glass covered the formerly pristine ivory floor, and the walls were painted with the remnants of gunfire. A few people were still standing – the murderers, you figured, judging by the blood on their outlandish clothes, the weapons in their hands, the indifferent agitation written across their expressions as you stared at them in horror, as your heart threatened to give out for the second time that night. The tallest man you’d ever seen pointed a hand-held machine gun in your direction, but Chrollo found his way back to your side, resting a hand on your shoulder as he spoke. “Hold your fire,” he said, casually, as if you weren’t standing at the edge of a bloodbath. As if he’d known what he was leading you into. “I think I’m going to keep this one.”
You didn’t say anything. You couldn’t speak. You couldn’t move. You couldn’t breathe. The air hitched in your throat as he brought a hand up to your chin, tilting your head back and forcing you to meet his unblinking stare. You’d been right the first time. There was never anything his eyes could’ve been but terrible. “I always did like Mina.”
There was never anything he could’ve been but a monster, prowling for his next kill.
“I guess I just have a soft spot for survivors.”
#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yandere imagines#yandere oneshot#yandere hunter x hunter#hunter x hunter#hunter x hunter imagines#yandere hxh#hxh imagines#yandere chrollo lucilfer#chrollo x reader#yanderecore#yancore
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You always come first
Pairing: Minchan
Word Count: 2007
Summary: Worrying Chan is by far one of the things Minho hates most. So when he hurts himself during practice one day, he'd rather die than tell his boyfriend. His body isn't quite happy with his choice, forcing him to open up at some point...
Warnings/Tags: angst, hurt!comfort, fluff, injury (ankle), stubborn!min, worried!chan, short argument
There isn't much Minho hates more than worrying his boyfriend. Chan, the caring soul he is, was always worried about something. Minho knows how much weight he's carrying around so why would he add to it? He's not good with hiding around him though.
Minho used to be the master of hiding his pain, his worries, his deepest fears. That's until he met Chan. Those puppy eyes meeting his, strong arms wrapping around him and soft voice surrounding him did things to him he can't describe. If there had been a button to push to make Min open up, Chan would have been the one who found it. And as much as he loves him, Minho hates that.
He hates that he can't hide from him, not because he doesn't want to open up or doesn't trust his love, but simply because he despises worrying his sweet boy. The way his face falls seeing him in pain or upset, eyes growing dark and wet with worry. The furrow between his brows, the way he speaks so softly Minho isn't sure if Chan will start crying with him any second. Fuck, he hates getting hurt.
So of course, he doesn't say a word as he trips, practicing the kick for S-Class, hurting his ankle in the process. Minho bites the back of his hand, holding back a scream as he carefully puts his foot back on the floor. This couldn't be happening. He gives himself a few minutes before carefully taking a few steps forward. It hurts like hell but he'll manage. Limping his way to Chan's studio is taking a bigger toll on him than he thought, sweat forming on his forehead. He braces himself at the door, taking deep breaths and puts on a smile as he eventually opens the door.
Chan doesn't look from his laptop but knows it's him. “Hey, baby? Ready to go home?”
“Yeah, more than ready,” he says, subtly limping his way over to him and bracing himself on his chair. “Still need some time?” he asks gently and Chan hums in response.
“Like five minutes?” he asks, glancing up at him apologetically.
“Let's be realistic and say ten, hm?” he suggests, soothingly running his hand through his lover's hair at the worry clouding his eyes. “I'll just wait back there, yeah?”
Chan scoots back with his chair, patting his lap. “Come here? I missed you,” he tells him.
Minho smiles softly, lowering himself into his lovers lap and raises his eyebrows at him. “My sweet love, it's been an hour since we've last seen each other.”
“Mhm, 60 minutes too much, if you ask me,” he says, making him laugh.
Minho kisses his forehead lovingly. “Get done with it, love. I need a shower.”
Chan chuckles softly, getting back to work. It's quiet in the room besides the occasional soft clicks of Chan's keyboard. He mindlessly rubs his lower back, smiling as Minho rests his head against his shoulder.
Minho squints his eyes together as he testingly moves his foot in tiny circles. Okay, not a good idea. Chan wraps up eventually, locks the door and takes Minho's hand. Minho struggles keeping up with him, trying to hide how agonizing every step he takes feels.
“You're okay? You're walking so slow,” Chan teases him as they reach the elevator.
“Just really tired,” he tells him with a weak smile.
Chan frowns softly, brushing his hair back for him. “Why didn't you say so? We could've left earlier,” he says and at Minho's tired shrug he picks him up.
“Hyungie,” he protests softly, just once more indicating something's wrong. He rarely calls him hyung anymore. “Your back, love, you have to be careful.”
“Min, it's been two months. I'm all good now,” he giggles and gently adjusts Minho's weight as he steps out of the elevator.
Minho doesn't dare to complain, not wanting to risk revealing how much he's hurting right now. Not having to walk sure helps a little.
Chan cuddles him close in the backseat of the car, soothingly fondling his head. “Sadly we can't sleep in tomorrow.”
“Yeah, just another long day,” Minho nods, mindlessly rubbing Chan's knee. Shit, that means there's no time to visit their doctor before practice. Especially not in secret.
Under the shower he realizes the gravity of the situation as his ankle is already swollen and starting to look bruised. Tears of frustration well up in his eyes as reality slowly settles in. There's no chance he could perform in three days. Not with their new intense choreos. There's no way Chan wouldn't notice. Fuck.
He drags himself to bed, biting back a groan as Chan shuffles in a little later. “Cuddles?” he guesses and Chan nods, almost timidly.
“Sorry, I can't sleep. There's too much going through my head,” he says and Minho lifts the blanket in response. Chan slips inside next to him, turning onto his side and smiles at him weakly.
“Go on, let it all out,” Minho encourages him, growing gentle at the worry lacing his boyfriend's face.
“I just feel like we still have so much to do but so little time. Like, we still had so many missteps today during practice. I still have to finish another two songs and then there's the interview coming up,” Chan rambles on, finding comfort in Minho's understanding dark coffee eyes.
“Chan?” Minho asks gently.
“I'm so nervous something will go wrong at the last minute, you know?” he asks timidly, before shaking his head. “Sorry, you were saying?”
Minho opens his mouth and closes it again. He can't. He physically can't tell him. “I love you,” he says instead. “I love you and it'll be okay.”
“Okay,” Chan exhales softly, features relaxing a little. “I love you too, Min. I don't know how I'd manage without you.”
“I'm here,” he promises, swallowing down his guilt. No, there is no use in telling him. Chan deserves a few hours of rest. He watches him fall asleep in his arms after a while and mindlessly plays with his hair. His ankle is pulsing with hot flashes of pain and he carefully adjusts his leg, trying to get more comfortable. After what feels like hours he finally falls asleep.
-
“Alright, let's do LALALALA and then we're done,” Chan announces and Minho bites back a groan.
“You're sure? Maybe we should take a break,” Minho suggests. Sweat is slowly forming on his forehead, his ankle is practically screaming for help at this point. “Look at them,” he tries but Chan shakes his head.
“Just that one, then we're done for the day, baby. Then we can all go home,” he says and Minho gives in reluctantly.
They get into position and the music starts blasting through the room. Minho winces softly at the many little jumps and stomps he has to deliver. His stomach tightens in pain and even though his vision gets blurry he tells himself to pull through. But his body thinks differently and a sudden intense wave of sickness crashes over him. He covers his mouth with his hand in shock, stumbling to the closest bin and throwing up. It only takes a few seconds and he can feel Chan next to him, hesitantly rubbing his back. Minho braces himself at the wall weakly, trying to take off the weight from his ankle, as he coughs helplessly.
They only turn off the music once he's done and he's grateful for the tiniest bit of decency they offered him. He sits down weakly at the bench nearby and buries his face in his hands with a frustrated groan.
“Hyung, what's going on?” Felix asks worriedly.
“Nothing, I just -,” he breaks off meeting his boyfriend's eyes, brimming with tears. “Channie, love,” he says worriedly. “Hey, honey, it's not that bad, I promise,” he tells him.
“I'm sorry,” Chan says weakly. “You asked for a break, I should've known.”
Minho shakes his head and reaches out for him. “No, come here,” he tries again.
Changbin quietly gathers the rest to give them some space and Chan moves once they're gone.
“Why didn't you tell me you were feeling sick?” Chan asks timidly. “Was that why you were so tired yesterday?”
“I'm not sick,” Minho admits lowly.
“What? Min, you just threw up in the-.”
“Channie, I'm being stupid. I'm not sick, I swear,” he tells him and Chan blinks at him confused. “And it's also not your fault, love. I shouldn't have done anything today,” he confesses.
“Are you…Baby, did you get hurt?” Chan asks worriedly and Minho closes his eyes in defeat. “Where?” he asks.
“Please don't be mad,” Minho says quietly before carefully slipping out of his sneaker. He pulls down his sock a little and anxiously watches Chan take in the sight.
“Minho.”
“Chan, please.” Minho shakes his head. “Don't.”
“You're such an idiot sometimes,” Chan snaps, surprising them both.
“I know,” Minho nods, but it still hurts hearing it from Chan.
“Why wouldn't you tell me? Why do you keep pushing yourself when you're hurt until you can't go on anymore?” he continues, getting up and pacing a small area in front of him. “And why am I still so dumb and believe you?”
“Love,” he tries weakly.
“No, fuck that right now,” he says firmly and Minho shuts up quickly. “I swear you're driving me insane sometimes,” he says before leaving the room, slamming the door.
“Wow, thanks,” he sniffles to himself, frustration and pain taking over. “I know that was stupid, that's no reason to leave me here,” he huffs, stubbornly wiping a tear off his cheek. He slips back into his sneaker with a hiss, biting his lower lip hard at the pain shooting through his body. He pushes himself up, yelping in pain as his foot meets the ground. More tears shoot to his eyes and he weakly holds himself up against the wall.
“Sit down, please,” Chan says, suddenly back in the room.
“No, fuck you,” Minho bursts out. “I want someone to check this and then I'll drag myself home,” he sniffles.
“I said sit down, Minho,” Chan speaks firmly and Minho does, not without glaring at him through tears. Chan carefully takes off his shoe again, pulling down his sock again to inspect the damage. “I'm sorry, Min. I shouldn't have snapped,” he says, carefully holding a bag of ice he found in the fridge to his ankle. “I'm just worried about you and it's pissing me off when you start hiding things.”
“Well, I didn't want you to worry,” Minho groans. “You worry too much already, you don't need my bullshit as well.”
“Your bullshit is my bullshit. Always has been, always will. You don't hide from me when you're hurt, you hear me?” he asks, meeting his eyes for the first time since he's back. “I want to trust you, Minho. You have to be honest with me for that.”
Minho chews on his lower lip nervously before giving in with a gentle nod. “Okay.”
“Seeing you throw up in the middle of practice is concerning me much more than your ankle,” he tells him, sighing softly. “How did it happen?”
“I was practicing that kick yesterday and tripped. It's my own fault, I should've stopped once I got tired,” he explains, timidly searching his eyes. “You're still mad at me?”
“No,” Chan sighs. “But we're seeing a doctor, now.”
“Alright,” Minho nods, accepting the bottle of water Chan offers him. “I promise, I'll get better with this.”
“Shh, drink up. We'll talk about this another time, yeah?” he asks gently. “My reckless kitten…”
Minho gently shoves his shoulder. “Stop it, you overprotective lapdog.”
“You better be quiet now,” Chan laughs, picking him up. “Let's get you checked.”
Minho hums gently, hugging him close. “I'm sorry for worrying you, love.”
“Don't be,” Chan says gently, kissing his cheek. “You always come first, yeah?”
“Okay,” Minho smiles sweetly, squeezing him. He should really start telling him sooner; it would benefit them both.
MASTERLISTS | PROMPT LIST | GUIDELINES
Taglist (Please let me know if you want to be added to or removed from the taglist):
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#stray kids#skz#chan#minho#skz fic#stray kids fic#chan fic#minho fic#minchan#minchan fic#lee know#bang chan#lee know fic#bang chan fic#stray kids fluff#skz fluff#stray kids angst#skz angst#chan angst#minho angst#bang chan angst#lee know angst#minchan angst#chan fluff#minho fluff#bang chan fluff#lee know fluff#minchan fluff
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OP men taking care of their SO
Gn!Reader (I tried)
Characters: Trafalgar Law, Eustass Kid, Sanji, Bartolomeo, Corazon
CW: mentions of ED (starving, vomiting, overexercising), bad body image/body dysmorphia, cursing, SH, slight nsfw for Kid
Notes: I'm in a terrible mental state rn, kinda relapsing. OP hyperfixation fixes stuff so I decided to write some HC how they would act when noticing their SO is struggling with an ED.
Trafalgar Law
he had a bad feeling about your eating habits a while ago
noticing you rush to the bathroom after every meal and "showering" excessively
but didn't mention cuz he knows to leave people alone (he's the same tbh)
it hit him during the monthly physical examination
he listens to your heartbeat and notice it being really low
"y/n, would you step on the scale?" he asks in a cold but also concerned tone
as he notices you getting anxious when standing in front of that thing, he sighs and puts a hand reassuring on your shoulder
"it's ok. I'm here. Just step on it, please." his voice still concerned but warm and soft
he looks at the low numbers in shock and takes you carefully from the scale before you can see the numbers
"y/n-ya. What's wrong?" he'll take your cold hands and sits right in front of you
if you break out in tears, he'll just sit there and hug you tightly, til you calm down by yourself
if you stay cold and stubborn, he'll get annoyed but also takes care of you
either way, you talk a lot and will make a rehab plan, he'll watch over you as much as he can
he won't miss a moment to show you how much he loves and cares for you
"you're the most beautiful soul I know, y/n-ya."
"I know it hurts, but I cannot lose someone I love dearly, again."
"We get through this, ok?"
all in all, he's a doctor and acts like one, but he'll support you whenever needed
Eustass Kid
he notice during working out together
the last times you'd been skipping meals and even alcohol, working out without him even in the middle of the night
first he thought you'd simply want to get stronger than him and teases you daily
but on that day you've overdone yourself, your body can't take it anymore and you get dizzy and weak all of a sudden, letting the weights fall down with a thud
"y/n?! Fucking seriously?" he first yells at you (rule: never let weights fall down)
you sink on your knees, mumbling sth like you'd be fine
"Fine my ass!" he swears and lifts you up to carry you to his room
"what the hell are you thinking?!" he's clearly pissed
he'll put on his too big warm clothes and coat, still staring at you angrily
forces you to drink water and hot tea, he still stares at you
"so what the fuck is wrong with you, y/n?" angry, annoyed tone
when you start to cry, he's overwhelmed and feels bad not being able to help, so he just sits there and pets your head
when you glance back and pout/get angry you'll get into a fight and storms out throwing the door
just to come back and hug you tightly after finally understanding
his soft side comes out when you tell him you feel weak and ugly and fat
he laughs: "stupid girl/boy! you're the strongest pirate I know! and the sexiest! besides me"
if you don't or don't smile enough (which will be most likely the case), he'll just tower over you and wrap you up in his arms, roaming with his hands over your body and repeat how amazing you are
he'll get overprotective, remind you to eat enough through the day (sometimes forces you to)
He makes you different playlists to lift up your mood
also he'll seek help from Killer from time to time (but won't tell you)
Sanji
He’ll notice when you stop joining to cook in the kitchen
Notices your rapid weight loss really quickly
Sits down next to you, lights up a ciggy and asks worried what’s wrong
Poor boy thinks it’s his fault
Eventually he’ll tear up and just hug you, telling you how much he loves you
“You can tell me everything, ma chère!”
You instantly felt understood and tell him
He’ll look at you in shock, not understanding how such a beautiful person can think of themselves like that
“But you are the most beautiful woman/man, I know, y/n-swan”
He cups your face and gazes into your eyes before kissing you softly
“We get through this, together. I promise.”
And he’ll make it true. He’s the most supportive boyfriend
Forehead kisses, reassuring soft hugs and touches, always keeping an eye on you
Spa Days, telling you every second how much he loves and adores you, would never force you but beg you to try his food at least
Makes the most delicious looking meals
Reads all about EDs so he won’t accidentally hurt you even more
Will hold you in his arms when you’re freezing or crying
Hides the scale
All in all the perfect man
Bartolomeo
He’ll notice when following you to the bathroom after dinner
Already had a bad gut feeling about your bruised up and red hands
He holds them all the time so he knows their appearance by heart
“Y/n-chan? Are you ok? I’m here for you! Are you sick?”
Music plays from inside and the tab runs
When you came out after minutes, eyes swollen and red, hands wet and even redder than before you’ll earn a concerned look
“Don’t tell me you’re fine, y/n-chan.”
Weirdly sniffs and notices the smell of vomit
Eyes in shock and starts crying
“No no no no my dearest y/n-chan!! Please don’t tell me it’s true!”
Wraps his arms around you in a tight embrace, crying his eyes out
Overdramatic as fuck
Eventually taking your weak body to a quiet room, cleans your face and gives you something to drink
Will listen to each of your words really carefully to understand
Always pleasing you, always bring you water and tea, will not force but desperately beg to you eat something
Will accompany you to the bathroom any time, watching that you don’t hurt yourself anymore
Around you 24/7, will provoke and beat up everyone just trying to say something bad about you
Literally overprotective l, like a guard dog
Will try to lift your mood by telling stupid jokes and stories, tattle about Law and other “not cool non strawhats”, showing off his collection
Proud as hell every time he’ll make you laugh and forget that illness for a second
Corazon/ Rosinante Donquixote
He’ll notice when picking you up as usual
“Y/n, you’re so tiny?!”
Shocked at first and lifts you even higher
Can’t believe you’re that light, you’ve always been to him, but now it’s different
Immediately throws you over his shoulder, covering you with his warm feather coat
“We’re going to a doctor, no back talk.”
His tone is stern but also warm and caring
Carries you to different doctors and hospitals, always holding your hand or thigh to show you he’s there
Will yell at anyone who says that can’t treat you
Throws literal tantrums at some doctors for being “incapable”
Will end up trying to fix and heal you himself
Showers you in love and care, eg bringing you water, tea, let’s you borrow his lighter to fidget with (even lend you his cigarettes if you smoke)
Will always smile at you and be more clumsy on purpose to make you laugh again
Will cook for you, whatever you want, burns it a few times by accident
Let’s you wear his clothes, when you feel bad about your body
Or wraps you up in them to get you warm
Will be extremely careful when touching, hugging or lifting you up
Afraid he’ll break you
Will inform himself about EDs to make the best of it
Never leaves your side, towering above or behind you, so no one can hurt you
Even lends you hit hat from time to time if he can’t be around for a moment, so you won’t feel alone
Gets sentimental when you sleep and he drinks, petting your head, sits right next to you talking about how beautiful and amazing you are
"I love you so much! You deserve everything in this world, my heart!"
#one piece#eustasscaptainkid#captain kid#trafalgar law#trafalgardwaterlaw#bartolomeo#op bartolomeo#law x reader#trafalgar law x reader#vinsmoke sanji#sanji#sanji x reader#kid x reader#one piece x reader#eustass kid x reader#corazon one piece#corazon#donquixote rosinante#corazon x reader#rosinante x reader#op headcanons#hc
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PERSEPHONE — ryomen sukuna x female reader [chapter 5: finale]
summary: ryomen sukuna, ruthless tycoon of the alcohol industry, is used to crushing rivals. but when his former meek secretary walks into his office as his newest competitor, he’s blindsided. you’ve transformed into a powerful force, ready to go head-to-head in a high-stakes battle for dominance. as tension rises between you — both in business and something far more dangerous — sukuna realizes this fight might cost him more than just his empire.
content warnings & tags: enemies to lovers, modern au, business tycoon sukuna, mentions of depression and alcoholism, love triangle, angst, slow-burn,eventual smut, mentions of other jujutsu kaisen characters (suguru geto,uraume, choso kamo, gojo satoru, yuuji itadori) - this takes place in the same universe as my upcoming salaryman! choso fanfic
word count: 11.7k words
notes: with that, persephone comes to an end. thank you all so much for loving persephone! reader and business tycoon! sukuna <3 i hope this was the closure you were looking for. me personally i would have wanted to end it with a 4some with reader, suguru, uraume and sukuna /hj please let me know how you liked it in the comments below, i'd love to hear your thoughts - please grill me, i need the criticism. regarding the side-fics, i will be relasing them as lengthier oneshots. chapters don't really work for me, and i think it would be much more fun to read it in one go! i'll be putting out an announcement for tag list[s] soon enough <3.
masterlist
the rowdy murmur of voices and occasional bursts of laughter echoed faintly in the background as suguru pushed his way through the crowd. gojo’s teasing voice called after him, “yo suguru, where ya goin’? it’s just getting good in here!” suguru barely acknowledged him, stepping out into the quiet hallway and answering your call.
"hey," he said, voice soft but tired.
"hey," you replied, nerves laced in every syllable.
"miss me already?" suguru teased, but his heart wasn’t in it. there was something under the surface, a tension he couldn’t shake.
"yeah, i do." you paused, your throat tightening. "suguru… did you see the tabloid articles?"
there was a beat of silence, and then a deep sigh from his end. "yeah, i saw them. kinda hard not to. gojo thought it was funny as hell. i... i didn’t, obviously." his voice was flat, but you could hear the regret threaded in his words.
“suguru, you know i love you,” you began, feeling the weight of what you were about to say settle heavily on your chest.
"but?" suguru interrupted, his tone sharper than before.
"how did you —"
"just say it, vino," he urged, voice almost breaking. "i’ll handle it."
your breath caught in your throat, but you pushed through. "i need time for me. i need time to focus on myself. i can’t keep finding myself running back and forth between you two. being put on the spotlight like this… it’s not something i want."
there was a low, bitter laugh on the other end of the line. "so, what? you want to focus on yourself… but with sukuna? is that what you’re saying?" his frustration simmered just beneath the surface, restrained but there.
"that is not what i said," you shot back, feeling the rising heat of your own emotions.
"it sure sounds like that," he said, his voice a little more forceful now. "i don’t get it, y/n. i’ve been the one that helped you through everything, and now you’re basically saying you want to go back to that? have you lost your mind?"
"suguru, that’s a low blow, and you know it," you bit out, trying to keep your voice steady. "that happened four years ago —"
"but everyone, including yourself, can still see its effects today!" he snapped, his voice cutting through the air like a blade.
you winced, his words digging into the fragile wounds you’d been trying to heal for years. "how i chose to handle the situation is entirely on me!" your voice wavered, the rawness of the past seeping into your tone. "i was a fucking pussy for drowning myself in booze, using it as an escape when i could’ve just… fixed my fucking life."
the line went quiet for a moment. you could hear him breathing, could almost picture him rubbing his temples like he always did when things got too overwhelming.
"...i understand," suguru finally said, his voice low, almost resigned.
"sugu —"
"no, y/n," he interrupted, his tone gentler now, but laced with exhaustion. "i think… i’ll spend an extra couple of days here. with gojo, i mean. i need a break."
"suguru, please —"
there was a long, suffocating pause. you thought he’d disconnected the call until you heard him sigh again, softer this time. "you should go," he said, and his words pierced through you like a cold wind. "to him, i mean."
"suguru…" you whispered, the ache in your chest blooming like a bruise.
"y/n, i’m fine." but his voice betrayed him, trembling ever so slightly. "your words… they sting, but they make sense. you need time for yourself. i get it. i just —" he broke off, struggling to gather his thoughts. "i hope you find what you’re looking for."
his voice cracked, and your heart shattered.
"i love you," he said, the words heavy with finality. "god, i love you. and that’s the best mistake i’ve ever made."
before you could respond, the call disconnected. the silence that followed was deafening, pressing down on you, leaving you feeling hollow and more confused than ever.
but in suguru’s words, in his acceptance, there was also release — something you both had desperately needed but hadn’t known how to ask for. now, you had no choice but to confront the feelings you had been running from. and the terrifying part? there was no going back from here.
you stand in your apartment, your phone clutched tightly in your hand, the weight of the conversation with suguru still heavy in your chest. your mind races, replaying his words, but another name keeps surfacing, drowning out everything else: sukuna.
without thinking, your fingers dial a number, and uraume’s voice crackles through the line.
“miss l/n?” they answer, their tone professional, but there's an edge of concern. “is everything okay?”
you hesitate, biting your lip before blurting, “where’s sukuna?”
there’s a pause on the other end. “ryomen? he’s… i’m not sure. he left the office earlier.”
“what do you mean you’re not sure?” your voice rises, frustration bubbling to the surface. “why didn’t you tell me? why didn’t you —”
uraume’s calm voice interrupts your panic. “miss l/n, i didn’t know. he booked a private jet on his own. i only found out about it moments ago. he didn’t give any explanation.”
your heart pounds in your chest, the weight of the situation pressing down on you like a vice. “so, where is he now? where did he go?”
“he’s on his way to the airport.”
“the airport?!” you practically yell, the shock coursing through you like a jolt of electricity. “why didn’t you say anything sooner?”
“i… i didn’t know,” uraume admits, their voice steady but tinged with a rare uncertainty. “he didn’t inform me of this.”
you exhale sharply, pacing the length of your apartment as your mind races. “okay, okay… i’ll meet you there. we need to stop him.”
“i’ll head there immediately,” uraume replies, their voice soft but firm. “don’t worry, miss l/n. we’ll figure this out.”
“don’t — just… i’ll be there in twenty.” you hang up, your heart hammering in your chest as you scramble for your keys.
your legs feel like lead as you sprint through the airport, dodging passengers, security, anyone in your way. you can feel your heartbeat in your throat, the weight of your desperation pushing you forward. the moment you passed through the security gate, it was all a blur — uraume must have worked their magic, because no one tried to stop you. you didn’t even have to explain yourself. no time for explanations, no time for anything except reaching him.
as you break into the open air of the runway, the roaring engines of sukuna’s private jet make everything around you tremble. the wind whips against your skin, tearing at your clothes, but it doesn’t matter. nothing matters except the sight of him — sukuna — climbing the steps to the jet, his broad frame silhouetted against the dull gray sky.
"sukuna!" you scream, your voice raw, your chest aching. the sound of the engines should drown you out, but somehow, as if attuned to your very soul, he hears you. he always hears you.
he pauses, his head turning sharply in your direction, and for a split second, the world seems to stop. his gaze locks onto yours, his red eyes wide with disbelief. you see the flicker of something unguarded, something vulnerable, as he stands frozen in place.
and then, for the first time in what feels like forever, he runs. he runs. down the ramp, missing a step, his usually precise and calculated movements thrown off as he rushes toward you. it’s so uncharacteristic of him — so unlike the sukuna you know — but in this moment, it’s all you’ve ever needed.
you meet him halfway, breathless, your chest heaving as you stop in front of him. the wind roars around you, the plane's wings creating a deafening backdrop, but everything else seems silent. it’s just the two of you. his eyes, stormy and conflicted, bore into yours, and for a moment, neither of you speak.
he looks at you like he doesn’t know whether to yell, hug, or kiss you, his jaw tight, his fists clenched at his sides.
"you’re bad for me," he finally rasps, his voice strained. it’s a confession, not an accusation. his brows knit together, and there’s something in his eyes — fear, anger, something raw. “you ruin me.”
“i know,” you whisper back, the wind biting at your skin, but your words are steady. “i know, ‘kuna.”
his chest rises and falls rapidly, his breath heavy like he’s on the verge of something. "we shouldn’t be doing this," he growls, his voice deep and rough, like he's trying to convince himself as much as you. his eyes flash with a dark emotion, flickering between anger and longing. "this isn’t — we can’t."
you step closer, your heart pounding so hard you swear he can hear it. “push me away then.” your voice is soft but firm, your gaze never leaving his.
he stares at you, his hands shaking as he balls them into fists. his jaw clenches, his throat bobbing as he swallows thickly. but when he opens his mouth to say something, nothing comes out. his lips part, and you see the conflict raging inside him. the way his eyes flicker between the plane behind him and your face, the way his body tenses as if he’s preparing to do something — anything — other than admit the truth.
"i can’t," he finally breathes, his voice breaking. his hands, trembling, reach for you but stop just short, as if touching you might shatter whatever’s left of him. there’s a roughness in his tone, a vulnerability that you rarely see.
you close the distance, taking his hands into yours. they’re cold, shaking slightly as you pull them towards you. “then don’t.”
he pulls you into him, his hands gripping you like he’s afraid you’ll disappear, his body warm despite the coldness around you. his forehead presses against yours, and you feel his breath on your lips. for a moment, neither of you say anything, the closeness too overwhelming.
“this is a mistake,” he whispers, his voice low and pained. “you make me… feel things i shouldn’t. things that don’t make sense. i was…. fine before you.”
but you can hear the lie in his words, the way his voice wavers. you press your hand to his chest, feeling the rapid thudding of his heart, and you know — you know he’s just as lost in this as you are.
“it doesn’t have to make sense,” you whisper back. “it just has to be real.”
he exhales sharply, and for a moment, you feel his resolve crumble. his lips ghost over yours, hesitating, almost as if he’s giving you one last chance to walk away. but neither of you move.
and then he kisses you. hard. like he’s drowning and you’re his only breath. his grip tightens around you, desperate, rough, like he can’t get close enough. the kiss is bruising, intense, a war between need and restraint.
“you… drive me insane,” he murmurs against your lips, pulling back just enough to look at you, his eyes dark with emotion. “and i hate you for it.” but the way he’s holding you, the way he kisses you again, says the exact opposite.
“i don’t care,” you whisper, breathless as you kiss him back, your fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. “i don’t care, ‘kuna.”
he pulls you into him again, his arms wrapping tightly around your waist, his forehead resting against yours as you both stand there, panting, holding onto each other like you might both fall apart if you let go.
“you better not run from me again,” you murmur, your voice cracking slightly.
he huffs a bitter laugh, his eyes closed as he presses a kiss to your forehead. “you’re the only one i’ll ever come back for.”
and before you knew it, a wedding hall sparkled with warm light, reflecting off chandeliers and casting a soft glow on the sea of guests. everyone was dressed to the nines, but the only thing that seemed to matter was the pair standing at the altar. you, in a stunning white dress, felt the weight of the world fall off your shoulders when sukuna’s rough hands slipped the wedding ring onto your finger. he looked handsome in his black tuxedo, the sharp lines of his face softening for once, as he gazed at you with an expression you’d never thought you’d see on him — vulnerability. yuuji, standing as one of the best men, was barely holding it together. his cheeks were puffed out as he bit down hard, trying to stifle his sobs, while choso gave him a nudge, as if to remind him to stay strong. but even choso couldn’t stop the trembling in his own bottom lip as sukuna leaned in and captured your lips in a kiss.
the hall exploded into cheers and applause, filling the air with laughter and joy. you’re now officially y/n l/n ryomen, and as you stood there in sukuna's arms, you couldn’t imagine it any other way. the warmth of his body pressed against yours felt like home — something you thought you’d never feel after everything you’d been through.
as the evening carried on, the wedding party only grew livelier. the music shifted into something slower, signaling the couple’s dance. you and sukuna stood in the middle of the floor, all eyes on you as you swayed gently to the music. sukuna’s arms were strong around you, and his grip tightened on your waist like he was afraid to let go, but his expression remained neutral, as if he was suppressing the surge of emotion within him.
“you’re doing it wrong,” you whispered, a small smile playing at your lips.
“shut up,” he grunted, though his lips twitched, betraying the beginnings of a smile. “just keep dancing.”
off to the side of the hall, uraume stood watching the scene unfold. their eyes, usually so cold, had softened just a little as they observed how sukuna held you, as if you were the most precious thing in his world. beside them, suguru leaned against the wall, arms crossed, though his usual smug demeanor had all but vanished.
“you’ll never tell her, will you,” uraume said quietly, their eyes still on you and sukuna as you danced.
suguru exhaled softly, looking down at the floor before lifting his gaze to meet uraume’s. “she knows,” he replied, his voice low, almost tired.
“and yet you’re letting her walk away?”
“you’re letting it happen on your end too, you know,” suguru countered, his tone tinged with a hint of bitterness.
uraume’s brows furrowed slightly. “that’s not fair of you to say, geto.”
“is anything in life really fair?” suguru’s voice was laced with a resigned sadness, the weight of his words heavy in the air between them. he shifted his gaze back to you, a flicker of something unspoken in his dark eyes as he watched you laugh softly into sukuna’s chest. it was a sound he loved hearing, but one that wasn’t meant for him.
uraume didn’t respond, instead focusing on the way sukuna held you. “he really loves her,” they murmured, almost to themselves.
suguru nodded slightly, his jaw tightening. “yeah… he does.”
there was a moment of silence, the only sound being the soft music from the dance floor and the murmur of guests chatting around them. uraume broke the silence, their voice softer than usual. “it’s better this way, for both of them.”
“maybe,” suguru replied, his eyes never leaving you. “but that doesn’t make it any easier.”
uraume didn’t push further, knowing suguru’s heart wasn’t something easily mended, and instead shifted their gaze back to the happy couple. the wedding may have been a celebration, but to the two watching from the sidelines, it was a bittersweet reminder of what could never be.
as the dance ended and the crowd erupted into applause again, sukuna leaned down, pressing a kiss to your temple, and you whispered something only he could hear. he smiled — a rare, genuine smile — as he tugged you closer to him, the world around you fading away.
across the room, suguru turned away, letting the noise of the wedding drown out the quiet ache in his chest.
the sound of applause and laughter faded into the background as you pulled away from sukuna after the dance. his lips brushed your forehead softly, his hand lingering on your waist as he watched you with that familiar intensity. "go talk to him," he murmured, his voice gruff but knowing.
you gave him a grateful smile, leaning in to kiss his cheek. “i’ll be back,” you promised, before turning toward where suguru stood, half-hidden in the shadows near the back of the hall.
he had been watching you the entire time. his arms were crossed, a distant smile tugging at his lips as you approached, but there was something unmistakably bittersweet in his eyes. the smile didn’t quite reach them, as if he was holding back everything he truly felt, tucked safely behind that calm exterior.
“hey,” you said softly, stopping a few steps in front of him.
“hey,” he replied, his voice gentle. the weight of all the unspoken words between you both hung in the air. he uncrossed his arms, standing a bit straighter, but there was a sense of quiet acceptance in his posture. he didn’t need to say it; you both knew what this moment was.
"so..." you started, feeling the warmth of the room seep into your skin, but somehow it didn't reach the ache forming in your chest. "i just wanted to thank you."
he raised an eyebrow, his lips curving into a soft smile. “thank me? what for?”
“for everything,” you said, stepping closer. “for being there, for helping me through all the hard times. i don’t think i could’ve done it without you. persephone itself wouldn’t have been there without you.”
he let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “you give me too much credit. you’ve always had the strength. i just helped you see it.” his voice cracked ever so slightly, betraying the emotions he kept buried deep inside.
you took another step closer, so close now you could feel his presence like a comforting warmth. “suguru, you mean more to me than you realize. i wouldn’t be standing here right now, happy, if it wasn’t for you.”
his eyes softened, but the sadness remained. “i’m just glad you're happy, vino.” his nickname for you felt heavy with nostalgia, a remnant of the time when he was your closest confidant, your anchor.
"i am happy," you whispered, your eyes searching his. "but… you’re part of that happiness, too. i need you to know that.”
he held your gaze for a moment, his eyes reflecting a mix of emotions — regret, love, and something deeper, something that had always remained unspoken between the two of you. "i know," he said quietly. "i know. and i promise i’m okay with it. really." his voice was soft, but firm, as if he were reassuring not only you but himself.
there was a long pause, filled with the quiet sounds of the wedding behind you, but neither of you moved. finally, suguru sighed, running a hand through his hair. “i always knew you’d end up with him,” he admitted, his tone light, though his eyes carried a hint of sadness. “he’s what you need.”
“i don’t want you to think you’re losing me,” you said, your voice breaking slightly as you reached for his hand. "because you’re not."
he hesitated for a moment, then intertwined his fingers with yours, holding your hand tightly. “i’m not losing you,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, “because i’ll always be here for you. you know that, right?”
you nodded, your thumb gently brushing over his knuckles. "always," you echoed.
suguru took a deep breath, his expression softening as he looked down at your hands, your pinkies brushing against each other. and then, slowly, deliberately, he hooked his pinky with yours, a silent promise that transcended words.
“a promise,” he murmured, his voice carrying a quiet resolve. “no matter what happens, we’re in this together. you and me.”
your heart clenched at the simple, yet profound gesture. a promise, not of love in the romantic sense, but of loyalty, of friendship, of everything the two of you had built over the years. no matter how things changed, no matter how life pulled you in different directions, you would always have this.
“a promise,” you whispered back, your pinkies interlocking tightly, sealing the bond you both knew would never fade.
suguru smiled, and this time, it reached his eyes. "i’m happy for you," he said, his voice low but steady. "you deserve this, all of it."
you squeezed his hand gently, holding on for just a little longer. "thank you, suguru. for everything."
his grip tightened, just for a moment, before he let go, the weight of the world lifting off both your shoulders. "go on," he said, nodding toward sukuna, who stood waiting for you at the other side of the room, his gaze fixed on the two of you.
you smiled softly at suguru, giving his hand one last squeeze before turning away. as you walked back to sukuna, you knew that whatever the future held, you and suguru would always share this unbreakable bond. a promise, made with intertwined pinkies and hearts too full of memories to ever forget.
and in the background, as suguru watched you walk away, he felt at peace for the first time in a long time. your happiness was his happiness, even if it meant you were with someone else.
while you spoke quietly with suguru, sukuna found himself in a conversation he didn’t anticipate: a one-on-one with your mother. she was elegant and composed, warm yet casual – a far cry from woman at your new year’s party. she was standing just at the edge of the reception area, sipping on champagne, her eyes fixed on you and suguru.
“mrs. l/n,” sukuna greeted, a surprising softness to his voice as he approached. there was respect in his posture, and though sukuna had built a reputation for being intimidating, he knew when to tread carefully.
she turned toward him, smiling slightly. “ryomen.” her voice was calm, unreadable. she had a presence that reminded sukuna a lot of you — strong, resilient, but there was a gentle warmth beneath the surface. "come to make your case?”
sukuna’s mouth curved into a faint smile. “i think i’ve already made it.”
your mother raised an eyebrow. “have you now? a man like you, with a past like yours, has a lot to prove when it comes to loving my daughter.”
sukuna didn’t flinch. he’d been expecting this. “i do,” he agreed, his voice steady. “and i’m not going to pretend like i haven’t screwed things up in the past. but she knows me — better than anyone. she sees what i’ve become.”
her gaze lingered on him for a moment, thoughtful, weighing. “she does,” she finally said. “and she’s always been a good judge of character. but i’m not worried about her judgment. i’m worried about yours.”
sukuna’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t avert his gaze. “i won’t ever let her down again,” he promised. “i know what she’s been through, and i know what i put her through. but i’ve changed. elysium...everything i’ve done, it’s for her.”
your mother took another sip of her champagne, her eyes softening as she studied him. “i know,” she said quietly, and sukuna’s eyes widened just slightly in surprise. “i’ve seen the changes in you. starting elysium? helping her get back on her feet? it’s not something the old sukuna would’ve done. i’ve seen the way you’ve fought for her.”
sukuna nodded, a rare flicker of vulnerability flashing across his features. “she saved me too,” he admitted, almost reluctantly. “in more ways than i can count. i owe her my life, and i’ll spend the rest of it making sure she never doubts that.”
your mother was silent for a moment, and then she chuckled softly, shaking her head. “you sound like a man in love.”
“i am.” sukuna’s response was instant, no hesitation in his voice. “i love her more than anything.”
“that’s good to hear,” she said, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “because that’s what she deserves. a man who will put her first, who will take care of her, and who will cherish her.”
“i will,” sukuna promised, and there was a fierce determination in his voice. “i’ll protect her. always.”
your mother’s gaze softened further, and she placed a gentle hand on his arm. “then i have no doubts,” she said. “you’ve earned her trust, and now...you have mine.”
sukuna swallowed hard, feeling a strange sense of gratitude well up inside him. “thank you,” he said quietly, his voice rough. “i won’t let you down.”
she nodded, her expression warm, almost motherly. “you’d better not. because if you do, i’ll be the first one at your door.”
sukuna let out a low, appreciative chuckle. “understood, mrs. l/n.”
your mother smiled softly. “you know,” she began, her tone lightening just slightly, “you and i...we both know she’s strong. but even the strongest people need someone to lean on. take care of her, ryomen. don’t just protect her — make her happy.”
he looked at her, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “that’s all i want,” he said. “to keep her mine. to keep her happy.”
there was a moment of quiet understanding between them, and for the first time, sukuna felt the weight of this responsibility in a way he hadn’t before. he wasn’t just marrying you; he was being entrusted with your entire life, your heart, your happiness. and somehow, in that moment, standing there with your mother, he felt worthy of it.
as the sounds of laughter and music filled the hall once more, sukuna took a step back, a rare softness in his eyes. “i’ll make sure she knows every day,” he added, his voice lower now, more personal. “she’s everything to me. and i’ll spend my life proving that.”
your mother smiled once more, her eyes filled with the kind of warmth only a mother could have. “then i’m glad she has you,” she said, giving his arm a gentle squeeze before turning back to the celebration. “welcome to the family, ryomen.”
and as she walked away, sukuna let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. it felt...right. for the first time, he wasn’t the ruthless, business tycoon. he was the man who would spend his life making you happy, keeping you his. he was entrusted with a responsibility that felt almost sacred, and for the first time, he truly believed he was worthy of it.
he turned his head, his eyes catching yours across the room as you held suguru’s hand in a quiet moment of friendship. a promise, not only to suguru, but to yourself, to your mother, to everyone in your life. and sukuna? he would be the man to keep it.
and with that, he allowed himself to feel something he hadn’t in years — a deep, all-consuming sense of peace.
while all the heartfelt conversations were happening elsewhere, yuuji, choso, and uraume were seated together at a table near the back of the reception hall. yuuji had a wide grin on his face, his eyes bright with excitement as he nudged choso with his elbow.
“so, big bro, you’re next in line, right?” yuuji teased, his grin only widening when he saw the unimpressed look on choso’s face.
choso scoffed, rolling his eyes. “please, i can’t even get a full night of sleep, and you’re talking about marriage?”
yuuji, ignoring the deflection, leaned in closer, whispering dramatically, “you’re not getting any younger, bro. you’ll be the one walking down the aisle next! i can feel it.”
“yeah, right,” choso snorted, flicking yuuji’s forehead in retaliation. “you should focus on getting that degree before you start acting like a grandpa, yuuji. you’ve got enough on your plate without playing cupid.”
uraume, who had been sitting quietly, observing the two brothers with their usual composed demeanor, let out an unexpected chuckle at choso’s remark. the sound of uraume laughing — a rare occurrence — caught both yuuji and choso off guard.
“uraume?” yuuji blinked, clearly surprised. “did you just laugh?”
uraume’s expression remained neutral, though their eyes sparkled slightly. “it’s just...you do have a tendency to take on more than you can handle, yuuji. perhaps choso is right. focus on one thing at a time.”
yuuji pouted, crossing his arms. “you guys are ganging up on me! what happened to wedding day joy? isn’t this supposed to be a celebration? and choso, come on, don’t act like you don’t want to settle down!”
choso raised an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair. “who said anything about settling down? you’re getting way ahead of yourself.”
yuuji leaned forward, wiggling his eyebrows mischievously. “so, no blind dates then? i mean, you’ve gotta be thinking about it, right? someone’s gotta sweep you off your feet, choso.”
choso shot him an incredulous look. “blind dates? seriously? i’m not interested in that kind of thing.”
yuuji, ever the instigator, pressed on, “oh, come on! you never know. what if someone amazing is just waiting out there for you? don’t tell me you’re going to be single forever.”
uraume, joining the conversation with their usual calm tone, added, “perhaps it wouldn’t be the worst idea. it’s not as if you’re without prospects.”
choso narrowed his eyes suspiciously at uraume. “what’s that supposed to mean?”
“you’re dedicated, reliable,” uraume replied, their tone neutral but pointed. “qualities people find appealing in a partner.”
yuuji jumped in again, clearly enjoying himself. “see? even uraume agrees! and besides, you’d look great all dressed up for a date.”
choso sighed heavily, shaking his head. “this conversation is ridiculous.”
“no, it’s not!” yuuji protested, flashing him a grin. “in fact, i think it’s a great idea. i mean, there are tons of great girls out there. or guys, if that’s more your thing. you just need a little push.”
uraume, surprising them both again, said, “it wouldn’t hurt to consider it, choso. it’s not as though blind dates are binding.”
choso stared at uraume, slightly betrayed. “you too? i thought you were the reasonable one.”
yuuji chuckled, clapping his hands together. “it’s settled then! choso, you’re going on a blind date. we’ll make it happen.”
choso groaned, burying his face in his hands. “this is going to be a disaster.”
but even as he sighed, the corner of his lips twitched up, a small smile betraying his amusement. maybe, just maybe, there was a tiny part of him that didn’t hate the idea after all.
as the reception wound down and the soft buzz of laughter and conversation filled the air, sukuna stood at the center of the room, glass in hand, his piercing eyes scanning the crowd. he had never been one for sentimentality, never a man of soft words or tender moments. but tonight, with you by his side, his wife, and the closest people in his life surrounding him, he couldn’t help but feel something stir deep within. a sense of fulfillment. of family.
he cleared his throat, his voice cutting through the hum of the room. the murmurs died down, and everyone turned to face him, anticipation hanging in the air. the spotlight seemed to cast an almost softer glow around him as he raised his glass higher.
“i don’t do speeches,” he began, his usual gruffness tinged with something softer tonight, “so don’t expect this to be long.”
you stood by his side, smiling up at him, your hand resting gently on his arm. he caught your gaze for a moment, his expression softening as he looked at you — his wife. a title that still felt surreal in the most comforting way possible.
“but today’s a day for firsts, isn’t it?” he said, glancing around the room. “and… hell, i guess i have some things to say.”
his eyes moved to suguru, standing a few steps away with a drink in his hand. the man was quiet, his usual composed face betraying none of the swirling emotions underneath. but sukuna knew. he always knew. suguru, for all his frustration, was a brother in this strange, twisted way. there was a silent understanding between them, a recognition of what they both had — and didn’t have. sukuna nodded in his direction, subtle but meaningful.
“suguru,” sukuna’s voice was almost thoughtful, “you’ve been there for her, longer than i have. i know that. and as much as i hate to admit it, you’re a part of this too. you’re family.” suguru’s eyes flickered with surprise for a brief second, then a faint smile tugged at his lips. he raised his glass back to sukuna, silently acknowledging the unspoken truth between them.
then sukuna’s gaze shifted to yuuji, sitting at a table with choso and uraume, already smiling that bright, goofy smile that had melted through even sukuna’s cold exterior over the years. yuuji, the kid who without even trying, became one of the few people he cared for.
“and yuuji,” sukuna smirked slightly, “you’ve been annoying as hell, but you’re also one of the best things that’s happened to me.” yuuji’s eyes widened at the unexpected compliment, his grin growing even wider as he nodded enthusiastically, looking like he might burst into tears at any second. “you’ve made things… fun.”
next, choso — the quiet brother, always standing in the background, but never unnoticed. sukuna’s eyes met his, and the two of them shared a look of understanding. they were alike in many ways, silent protectors who spoke more with their actions than with words.
“choso,” sukuna said, his voice dropping just slightly, “you’ve been a steady hand in this chaos we call life. a brother in more ways than one. don’t let yuuji drag you into anything stupid.”
choso chuckled softly, shaking his head as he lifted his glass, his lips quirking into a rare smile. “i’ll try,” he muttered under his breath.
then there was uraume, standing stoically off to the side, watching the entire scene with their usual calm detachment. but sukuna knew better. uraume had been there from the beginning, loyal to a fault, and though they didn’t show it, he knew they cared deeply for him and you. they’d become more than just his right hand; they’d become a confidant, a guardian of his family.
“uraume,” sukuna said, his tone firm but warm, “you’ve always had my back. i don’t say this often, but thank you. for everything.” uraume’s gaze softened just slightly, their lips pressing into a thin line as they gave a small nod, no words needed between them.
then, sukuna’s eyes found yours again, and for a moment, the entire room faded into the background. it was just you and him. the woman who had turned his life upside down, who had dragged him into something so terrifying, so real, that he had no choice but to embrace it. love.
“and you,” sukuna said, his voice softening in a way that only you got to hear, “you’ve made me better, even when i didn’t want to be. i can’t promise that i’ll always be good at this. at… us. but i’ll try. i’ll always try for you.”
your heart swelled at his words, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. you squeezed his arm gently, whispering, “that’s all i need.”
finally, sukuna turned to your mother, who had been watching the entire scene with a knowing smile. she had always been wary of him, and rightfully so. but now, as she looked at him, there was something like approval in her eyes. sukuna met her gaze with a rare vulnerability, bowing his head slightly in respect.
“i know i’m not the son-in-law you imagined,” sukuna said, his voice gruff again but filled with sincerity, “but i’ll take care of her. of them. i swear it.”
your mother’s smile grew, and she raised her glass in return, her voice soft but firm. “i know you will, sukuna. you’ve proven that already.”
sukuna straightened, his chest swelling with a strange sense of pride. it wasn’t often he sought anyone’s approval, but hers meant something. it meant that he’d truly earned his place in your life, in your family.
he took a deep breath, looking around the room one last time, taking in the faces of the people who mattered most to him. “so, here’s to family,” he said, raising his glass high, his voice steady, “the one we’re born into, and the one we make.”
the room erupted into cheers, glasses clinking together as everyone raised their drinks in a toast. the warmth of the moment enveloped the space, a full-circle moment for everyone who had been part of the journey.
as the night went on, you and sukuna stole a quiet moment together, standing at the edge of the dance floor, watching your friends and family laughing and celebrating. sukuna wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you close to him, his lips brushing against your ear.
“i love you,” he whispered, the words so soft that only you could hear them.
you smiled, leaning into him as you whispered back, “i love you too.”
and as you stood there, surrounded by the people who had become your family, you realized that this — all of it — was exactly where you were meant to be.
as the night drew to a close, you and sukuna bid your final goodbyes to your guests. suguru gave you a lingering smile, squeezing your hand in reassurance as his pinky briefly locked with yours. yuuji’s eyes shimmered with happy tears as he waved you off enthusiastically, and choso smiled, nodding in your direction. uraume gave you a small, stiff bow — their way of showing warmth. sukuna grunted in his usual fashion, a goodbye only he could pull off with such weight behind it.
you walked together, hand in hand, toward the hotel, the stars shimmering above like they were celebrating the night alongside you. once inside, you gasped dramatically, your hand flying to your chest in mock surprise as you stepped into your hotel suite. the room was nothing short of breathtaking — pure opulence. tall, floor-to-ceiling windows gave a panoramic view of the city’s skyline, sparkling against the deep midnight blue of the night. the room itself was decorated in warm tones of gold and cream, plush sofas, thick velvet curtains, and a massive bed adorned with silk sheets that looked almost too perfect to touch. a bottle of champagne sat chilled on a nearby table, along with rose petals that scattered elegantly across the floor.
"wow," you breathed out, eyes wide as you took it all in, "uraume really pulled out all the stops, huh."
before you could say more, you felt strong arms wrap around your waist, pulling you back into a firm, familiar chest. sukuna's low, gruff chuckle rumbled behind you as he hugged you tightly, his chin resting on your shoulder.
“uraume?” he muttered into your ear, his breath warm against your skin. “woman, i’ll have you know i arranged this all by myself.” his voice was filled with a playful arrogance, and you couldn’t help but smile at the pride in his tone.
he shifted slightly, pressing his lips to your cheek in a soft, fleeting kiss before his teeth grazed your skin. “going to be spending the night with my wife,” he punctuated the title with a teasing nibble, and you couldn’t hold back the squeal that escaped your lips, laughter bubbling out of you as his grip tightened.
“sukuna!” you giggled, trying to wriggle free from his hold, but he wasn’t having it. with a mischievous glint in his eye, he scooped you up effortlessly, your legs kicking lightly in the air as he spun you around toward the bed.
“oh no, you’re not getting away that easily,” he smirked, carrying you over to the bed as you laughed uncontrollably in his arms. the playfulness, the warmth between you two, filled the room, making it feel less like a grand hotel suite and more like the cozy heart of your new life together.
as sukuna laid you down gently on the bed, you looked up at him, his smirk softening into something more tender, more real. for all his arrogance, all his sharp edges, tonight was a reminder that he was yours. and you were his.
“my wife,” he repeated, softer this time, brushing a strand of hair from your face before he leaned down, his lips capturing yours in a slow, lingering kiss.
you both fell back onto the bed, lying side by side in a quiet, comfortable silence. neither of you felt the need to rush into anything; just being there, together, was enough for now. staring up at the ceiling, you let out a small sigh, your fingers lightly grazing the silk sheets beneath you.
"so," you broke the silence, your voice soft, "i’ve been meaning to ask you about the tattoos on your face.”
sukuna turned his head slightly to glance at you, one brow raising in that signature way of his. “what about them?”
“well, i was just wondering... what’s the story behind them?”
he scoffed, rolling his eyes as if dismissing the question. “bad high school decision. don’t overthink it,” he muttered, his voice nonchalant.
you giggled, not entirely convinced by his answer, and that’s when something clicked in your head. you turned your face to him, curiosity in your eyes. “wait a minute… choso has a similar marking on his nose. is that connected, too?”
sukuna smirked, his gaze flicking to the ceiling again. “yeah, same thing. it’s a tradition of sorts. something we did back then. me, choso.. thought it’d make us look tough or whatever.”
“and did it?” you asked, teasingly.
“hell yeah,” he answered, though there was a playful glint in his eyes that told you he was amused by the memory.
you couldn’t help but laugh lightly, the sound filling the room. “so what other bad decisions did you make, mister tough guy?”
he turned to you again, this time with a sly smile on his lips. there was a brief pause before he replied, his voice lower, softer. “you.”
you blinked in surprise, and before you could react, he added with a smirk, “but you’re the best bad decision i’ve ever made.”
your heart fluttered at his words, a warm feeling spreading through your chest. you knew it was sukuna’s way of expressing something deeper — his own version of affection. there was something about how he framed it, how he spoke with such a bluntness that always left you feeling more seen, more known, than anyone else could make you feel.
you playfully nudged him with your elbow. “you’re such an idiot.”
he chuckled, a rare sound from him, before his hand found yours, interlocking your fingers as you both lay there, side by side. the silence that followed wasn’t awkward but peaceful, the two of you lost in thought, yet somehow connected in the most intimate of ways.
as the minutes ticked by, you found yourself smiling, your eyes growing heavier, feeling safe and loved. you had never imagined this life — the twists, the turns, the bad decisions that led you here. but lying next to sukuna, his hand in yours, you couldn’t help but think it was all worth it.
because sometimes, the best decisions come from the worst ones.
you burst into laughter, the sound echoing through the lavish hotel room as sukuna, ever the provocateur, leaned in closer, his body caging you against the soft pillows.
“if you tell me you’ve had sex with someone before me, i’ll be pissed off,” he declared, his tone half-serious, half-teasing.
your eyes widened in mock shock, a playful grin spreading across your face. “sukuna!” you gasped, unable to suppress your laughter. “how could you even ask that?”
“what?” he replied, his voice smooth and mischievous. “just trying to gauge my competition here.”
you wriggled beneath him, your heart racing as his weight pressed gently against you. “there’s no competition! you’re the one i chose!”
“you better mean that,” he said, his expression turning momentarily serious, the playful glint in his eyes still dancing there. “because if you’ve got a whole list of guys i should be worried about —”
“i swear, it’s only ever been you,” you interrupted, your laughter subsiding as you looked into his eyes, the sincerity of your words hanging in the air between you. “i’m not even kidding.”
his lips curved into a smirk, a sense of triumph washing over him. “good. just remember that,” he said, leaning down, his breath warm against your skin. “you’re mine, and i’m not sharing.”
“not that i’d want to,” you murmured, your pulse quickening as his gaze bore into yours. the playful banter hung between you like a delicate thread, both of you enjoying the sweet tension that filled the air.
“smart choice,” he teased, and in a moment of spontaneity, he dipped his head to press a teasing kiss to your lips, his hands framing your face as he pulled back to gauge your reaction.
your cheeks flushed, the laughter from before transforming into something deeper, more intimate. “you’re such a dork,” you said, shaking your head at him, but there was no malice in your words — just affection.
“your dork,” he corrected, grinning. “and don’t forget it.”
sukuna shifted slightly, propping himself up on one elbow to look at you more intently. “you sure you want to continue on with this?” he asked, his tone a mix of teasing and genuine concern. “i don’t want to push you if you’re tired.”
you couldn’t help but chuckle at his unexpected display of care. “is that really you, ryomen sukuna, asking if i’m okay?” you teased, raising an eyebrow. “i never took you for the caring type.”
he scoffed, an amused smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “don’t get used to it, woman. it’s just common courtesy,” he replied, rolling his eyes dramatically. “besides, someone has to make sure you’re not passing out on me.”
you giggled, enjoying the banter as much as the moment itself. “common courtesy, huh? i didn’t realize you had such a soft spot.”
“soft spot?” he repeated, feigning offense as he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “i’ll have you know that i’m a very tough guy.”
“sure you are,” you said with a playful roll of your eyes, leaning back against the pillows and crossing your arms. “but it’s nice to see this side of you. who knew you could be so… sweet?”
“don’t push it,” he warned, though the hint of a smile remained on his face, clearly enjoying the teasing. “you might just ruin my tough guy reputation.”
“oh, please,” you replied, grinning back at him. “you’ll always be the tough guy. this is just a little added bonus.”
“bonus, huh?” he mused, his expression shifting into something more serious for a moment. “well, just know that i can be tough when it counts. but for you? i can make an exception.”
your heart warmed at his words, a soft silence enveloping you both as you contemplated the depth behind them. sukuna’s gaze held yours, the playful edge now tinged with something deeper, and you could feel the shift in the air around you.
“so, what’s it gonna be?” he asked, breaking the silence with a hint of mischief. “are you ready to keep going, or do you need a nap?”
“i’m definitely ready,” you said, your voice steady and confident. “let’s see just how caring you can be, sukuna.”
he chuckled, his eyes glinting with that familiar spark. “challenge accepted.”
sukuna’s cocky facade didn’t quite match the awkwardness of his hands, the way his fingers grazed over your skin with hesitation, like he was trying to remember the motions. it was unlike him to be so uncertain, and the clumsiness in his movements had you biting your lip to keep from laughing.
“sukuna,” you teased softly, glancing up at him with a warm smile, “you don’t have to be so shy, you know.”
his brow furrowed in an attempt to stay composed, but the corner of his mouth twitched, betraying him. “shut up, woman,” he huffed, his voice gruff, “i know what i’m doing.” the confidence was there, but you could feel the subtle tremor in his touch. his grip was firm, yet careful — an odd mixture of control and restraint.
he wasn’t used to this. not with you. not with someone who mattered.
you felt a sense of tenderness for him in that moment, seeing him vulnerable like this. his tough exterior was crumbling, piece by piece. “you can touch me, you know,” you whispered, offering him the reassurance he didn’t ask for but clearly needed.
“‘m getting to it,” he practically barked, frustration lacing his voice as if he were trying to convince himself more than you. your giggle slipped out, and though it earned a glare from him, there was no real bite behind it. it was adorable — watching the all-powerful ryomen sukuna struggle with something so simple.
he fumbled with the fabric of your dress, clearly annoyed. “stupid dress gettin’ in the way,” he muttered, gripping it with one of his large hands, bunching it up to reveal your legs. the cool air hit your skin, and instinctively, you pressed your thighs together, a wave of self-consciousness creeping in.
the sound that left sukuna’s throat was a deep, low growl. “don’t hide yourself,” he ordered, his voice rough but lacking malice. he wasn’t used to this — having to make someone feel safe — but the sincerity in his words made you relax just a little.
“i know, but it’s still kinda weird —” you began, your voice soft.
“it’s only weird if you make it weird,” he grumbled, clearly fumbling for something reassuring to say, though the way he said it was anything but delicate. you could tell he was out of his element, but the effort was there, and that was enough to make your heart swell.
he paused, his gaze locking with yours for a long moment. there was something in his eyes, a softness that didn’t fit the man everyone else saw. “you sure you wanna do this?” sukuna’s voice was quieter this time, carrying a weight of concern that wasn’t typical of him.
“of course i want to!” you blurted out, a bit too fast, and his lips twitched into a grin before a low, genuine laugh bubbled up from his chest. it was rare to hear him laugh like that — so unguarded — and it made your heart skip a beat. your own embarrassment melted away, replaced by the warmth of the moment.
“then who am i to deny my wife what she wants?” he said, his tone light but filled with affection. the word “wife” rolled off his tongue with such ease, but the meaning behind it was still sinking in for both of you.
you grinned, shaking your head at his smugness. “you’ll never get tired of saying that, will you?”
“never,” sukuna replied without hesitation, his grin wide and proud as he unbuckled his belt and tossed his suit jacket aside, the movements more confident now. but there was still that tenderness in his actions — a stark contrast to his usual demeanor.
as he leaned in to kiss you, the rest of the world faded away. the moment was just for the two of you. despite the teasing, despite the clumsiness, there was a sense of reverence in the way sukuna touched you—a reverence that made you feel like you were the most important person in his world. this wasn’t just about passion or desire. it was about trust, about sharing something real.
and as he kissed you again, you realized that for all of his roughness, all of his pride, sukuna was holding you like you were his most precious possession. like you were the best decision he had ever made.
he pulled back, his lips hovering just above yours, his breath warm against your skin. “you’re the best bad decision i’ve ever made,” he murmured, the words almost too soft for someone like him. but they were raw, honest.
your chest fluttered, the weight of his admission settling in. with a soft laugh, you reached up, brushing a hand against his jaw. “well, if that’s the case, i guess i’m happy to be your worst one.”
he smirked, leaning into your touch. “yeah? good. ‘cause you’re stuck with me now, woman.”
and for once, you didn’t mind the idea of being stuck at all.
the two of you lay bare before each other, the air thick with anticipation. there was a vulnerability in the moment that hadn’t been there before, an unspoken trust that made your heart race.
“‘kuna,” you breathed out, voice soft but filled with a hint of playfulness, “help me take the veil off —"
“nah,” sukuna interrupted with a devilish grin, his sharp eyes raking over your body. “looks sexy,” he added, pulling you closer to him, his large hands pressing against your back, making the warmth of his skin meld into yours. you could feel the strength in his hold, but there was a gentleness there too, a reverence in how he handled you.
the contrast between his rough personality and the care he took with you was striking, leaving you feeling both vulnerable and cherished all at once. his fingers traced over your skin, teasing but careful, as if he was savoring every second.
“you ready?” sukuna asked, his voice low, a rumble that sent shivers down your spine.
“born ready — oh shit, not ready!” you gasped out, voice shooting up in surprise at the sudden sensation between your legs, the shock of his intrusion making your body react instinctively as you scrambled to hold onto his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin.
his chuckle rumbled against your chest, though his brows furrowed in a mix of focus and concern. “shit, sorry,” he muttered, grunting softly as he forced himself to slow down, his voice laced with restraint. “just hold on, okay? it gets better.”
you nodded, your breath catching in your throat as the initial shock settled. “mm, o-okay,” you whined softly, trying to adjust, the tension in your body easing as you pressed your forehead against his. sukuna’s lips ghosted over your temple, his breath hot as he whispered a mixture of praise and reassurance.
“that’s it... you’re doin’ good,” he rasped, his voice gruff but tender, the way he spoke to you making your heart melt despite the intensity of the moment. his hands stayed steady on your hips, holding you close, grounding you. “just relax… i’ve got you.”
you breathed out shakily, your fingers clutching his shoulders, feeling the warmth of his skin under your palms. despite the rough exterior, despite the teasing, sukuna was holding you with care. his usual bravado faded as he focused entirely on you, the rhythm of his movements slow and deliberate, making sure you were with him every step of the way.
“you okay?” he asked, his voice quieter now, almost vulnerable in its tone, the way his eyes searched yours for any sign of discomfort.
“yeah,” you whispered, feeling the sincerity in his concern. “yeah, i’m okay.”
his smirk returned, just a little softer this time. “good… ‘cause i’m not gonna stop now,” he murmured, leaning down to kiss you, sealing his words with a touch that was as possessive as it was tender.
“sukuna, slow down!” you squealed, the sudden intensity making your body jolt.
he let out a deep, rough laugh, voice strained, but dripping with cockiness. “can’t. fuckin’. slow. down,” he growled, each word punctuated with a particularly harsh movement that made you grip onto him tighter. it wasn’t enough to hurt, but enough to push you to your limit, sending shockwaves through your body.
“safe word is you slapping me,” sukuna panted out, his breath hot and heavy against your ear as he thrust into you, the sensation overwhelming.
“slap you?” you echoed, trying to make sense of his words as you fought against the fogginess clouding your mind. your voice wavered between disbelief and amusement as you clung onto him for dear life, barely able to form coherent thoughts with how his body was taking over your senses.
he grunted in response, his grip on your hips tightening as he pulled you closer, hips moving with a reckless pace that made your breath hitch. “’m dead serious,” he groaned. “slap me on the face if you want me to stop.”
“that’s just gonna make you wanna go more!” you whined, your words slurring slightly as the pleasure built higher, threatening to send you over the edge.
his lips twisted into a grin, his dark eyes glinting with amusement. “hm, touché,” he chuckled, the sound of his voice sending another wave of heat through you. his grin never faltered, even as he leaned down, pressing a rough kiss against your lips, muffling the moan that escaped you.
“guess we’ll just have to keep going,” sukuna teased, his breath ragged but full of challenge. the way his hands roamed your body, how he seemed to know exactly how far he could push you — it was intoxicating, overwhelming in the best way. and as you tangled your fingers in his hair, holding on, you knew there was no stopping now.
sukuna’s breath hitched as his movements became erratic, that cocky confidence of his faltering just a bit. “you know i really fuckin’ love you, right?” he panted out between rough breaths, his voice heavy with emotion, though still dripping with that signature arrogance.
“yeah, i can tell,” you gasped out breathlessly, an airy laugh escaping your lips despite the intensity of the moment. the way he had you pinned against him, completely overwhelmed by his strength and the rough tenderness in his movements, left no room for doubt. he had a way of making even the filthiest declarations sound almost sweet.
“good... just wanted to — fuck — m-make sure,” sukuna stammered, a crack in his usual composure as his voice grew rougher. his body was betraying him, the familiar hot pull of release starting to pool in his belly, and he was losing control quicker than he wanted to admit.
you could feel the change in him — the way his grip on you tightened, the way his breathing grew even more ragged, the urgency in every movement. “'kuna, are you —”
“let me focus!” sukuna cut you off with a strained grunt, his brows furrowing as he struggled to hold onto his composure. his hands tightened around your hips, pulling you even closer, burying himself deeper as his control slipped more and more. the desperation in his tone was almost endearing, in a very sukuna way — he was trying so hard to maintain that cocky, cool front, but the way he was clinging to you, the way his body trembled slightly, gave him away.
you couldn’t help but smirk through the haze of pleasure, your own body shaking as you ran your hands down his back, holding him just as tight. “need help focusing?” you teased, your voice barely above a whisper, still trying to catch your breath as he buried his face into the crook of your neck, groaning lowly in response.
“you think you're so funny,” he huffed against your skin, his breath warm and heavy, his teeth grazing lightly over your pulse as his pace quickened, losing himself in you. “gonna be even funnier when i’m done with you…”
his threat was empty, but the way he was holding onto you, the raw need and affection behind each ragged breath, each movement, made you feel like you were all he ever needed. the world outside faded, and it was just the two of you, tangled in each other, hearts pounding in sync.
sukuna’s voice came out in a strangled groan, his grip on your hips tightening to the point of bruising as his control began to slip completely. “can i — oh fuck — inside?” his voice cracked, a rare show of vulnerability that made your heart race faster than it already was.
“y-yeah, just —” you gasped, your fingers digging into his shoulders, “just do it quick, i don’t think i can — ah — hold on long.”
he grunted in response, his forehead pressed against yours as his eyes fluttered shut, trying so hard to keep it together, but failing miserably. “yeah, i know, i gotch — oh fuck, y/n…” he choked out, his entire body trembling as he felt you clench around him, pulling him deeper, and the way you were responding to him wasn’t helping his already fraying composure. “you’re not making this e-easier f’me,” he practically whimpered, his usual gruffness nowhere to be found now.
he was unraveling. completely.
“just let it happen, ‘kuna,” you whispered, breathless, the nickname rolling off your tongue in a way that sent shivers down his spine. and that was all it took. the sound of his name, the way you said it — so raw, so intimate — was the final straw.
“fuck — y/n,” he grunted, his voice breaking as his hips slammed into yours, his pace becoming erratic, desperate. he buried his face in your neck, teeth grazing your skin as his body tensed, shaking against you. the heat of him, the way he was holding you like he was afraid to let go — it made everything feel overwhelming, and you could feel yourself teetering right there on the edge too.
“‘kuna —” you moaned, your own body shuddering, your nails dragging down his back as you reached your peak, and the way you cried out his name sent him spiraling.
“shit,” sukuna choked out one last time, his whole body jerking as he finally let go, spilling into you with a groan that was both relief and overwhelming intensity. his grip on you tightened, like you were his anchor, grounding him as he rode out his high, shuddering against you, his chest heaving with each ragged breath.
for a moment, neither of you moved. just the sound of your heavy breathing filled the room, the only sign of life. sukuna was still holding you close, his face pressed into your neck, the sweat on his skin cooling as the adrenaline slowly ebbed away. his body was heavy on top of yours, but it felt comforting, reassuring, like he didn’t want to let you go.
“fuck…” he muttered, still panting, his voice hoarse, but there was something almost tender in it, as if he couldn’t quite believe what had just happened. “you okay?”
you nodded weakly, a small, breathless laugh escaping your lips. “i’m more than okay, ‘kuna.” you squeezed his shoulders lightly, your hands tracing slow patterns on his skin, both of you still wrapped in the aftermath of the moment.
“best bad decision i ever made,” he muttered, a lazy grin spreading across his face as he kissed the side of your neck, his voice rough, but so warm now, so content.
“you’ll never get tired of saying that, will you?” you teased, echoing your earlier words, your heart swelling with affection as you held him close.
“never,” he grinned, his lips brushing yours in a slow, languid kiss, filled with everything he couldn’t quite put into words. “not when it’s true.”
“now, about that round two…” “sukuna!”
epilogue.
“so how’s —?” choso’s voice filters through the phone, casual but carrying the weight of a thousand unspoken thoughts.
“my wife? she’s good,” sukuna replies, a soft chuckle escaping as he glances at the photo wall in front of him, the space having blossomed with new memories. there’s the photo from your wedding, the two of you looking surprisingly at ease, captured in a rare, tender moment. next to it, the maternity shoot where you glowed with happiness, cradling your growing belly. and then the grainy image, snapped by yuuji, of you in the hospital ward holding your newborn. sukuna’s own figure, absent in the frame, was a choice — he had turned away, pretending to be too occupied with something else while tears pricked his eyes.
as his gaze moves across the wall, he finds himself smiling at the other photos: uraume, holding your child awkwardly, their expression uncharacteristically soft as your baby girl beamed at them. another picture shows suguru, his grimace exaggerated as your daughter gleefully yanked at his hair while riding on his shoulders, her tiny hands gripping his locks with innocent mischief. and there’s one of yuuji and choso, each kissing your daughter’s cheeks, her laugh caught perfectly mid-giggle. each photo, a snapshot of love, family, and time.
he still can’t believe he’s come this far, that he’s standing in front of a wall filled with memories of a family he never thought he’d have. it used to be a word that left a bitter taste in his mouth, something he rejected. but now? now it feels…right.
“you should get her over to our home sometime. it’s been a while since the two — i mean, three of you have come over,” choso’s voice echoes through the phone, pulling sukuna back to the moment.
sukuna chuckles softly at the slip. it’s still taking everyone, including his own brother, time to adjust to the idea that ryomen sukuna — the feared, ruthless business tycoon— is now a father. a father to a beautiful baby girl named aiko ryomen y/l/n. she looked so much like you, but that smirk — the one that mirrored his own — was unmistakable, even at just a year old. she had his fire, his intensity, but you tempered it with your warmth, creating a perfect balance that he never knew he needed.
“only when you get your girl,” sukuna teases, his voice lighter than it used to be.
“deal,” choso replies, amusement lacing his words.
“deal,” sukuna echoes, his smile lingering long after the call ends.
as he tucks his phone into his pocket, sukuna’s gaze moves across the wall of photos, his eyes fall on the most recent addition, one that stands out among the rest — a family photo taken just last month. it’s larger than the others, framed carefully and placed in the center of the collection.
in the photo, you’re holding aiko, who’s perched on your hip, her tiny hands gripping your arm with that signature smirk plastered across her chubby face. you’re smiling, your expression soft and warm, the love for your family evident in your eyes. standing beside you is sukuna, his arm resting casually on your shoulder, a slight smile on his face — barely noticeable, but it’s there, a glimpse of the man who hides his tenderness behind walls of cold arrogance.
beside him, uraume stands stiffly, as they always do, but there’s something softer in their expression, their usual rigid posture relaxed as they hold aiko’s hand gently. choso and yuuji stand next to them, both leaning in with matching wide smiles, yuuji making a peace sign with his fingers while choso, ever the protector, stands with a hand on yuuji’s shoulder. and then there’s suguru, who stands on the other side of you, his eyes crinkled with amusement as he looks down at aiko, who’s trying to reach for his hair — again.
it’s a chaotic picture, mismatched smiles and personalities blending together into something that feels almost surreal. a family — his family. the word rings in his mind as he stares at the photo, and for a moment, sukuna is overwhelmed. he never imagined this would be his life, that the ruthless, feared man he once was could stand among these people and feel…content. happy, even.
he used to think of himself as a lone wolf, someone who didn’t need or want anyone. but now, looking at this photo, he realizes how wrong he was. these people — each of them — have become a part of his world, his family, in ways he never thought possible.
his hand grazes the edge of the frame as he lets out a deep breath, his chest tightening with a mix of emotions he can barely name. gratitude, love, maybe even fear — fear of losing this, of somehow screwing it all up. but for once in his life, he pushes those thoughts away. he lets himself just be in this moment, soaking in the quiet joy that this family has brought him.
he doesn’t have to be perfect. he doesn’t have to have all the answers. he just has to be here — with you, with aiko, with everyone he cares about. and that, somehow, is enough.
turning away from the wall, sukuna leans against the window, staring out at the cityscape beyond. his heart, once so guarded, so hardened, feels lighter now, softer in a way he never thought possible.
it wasn’t easy to get here. there were fights, broken moments, regrets that lingered in the corners of his mind. but in the end, you stood by him. you saw past his flaws, his anger, his mistakes, and chose to love him anyway.
and he knows now — this is what life is about. it’s messy, chaotic, imperfect. but it’s real. and it’s his.
he turns back to the photo wall, his eyes lingering on the image of you and aiko, surrounded by the people who have become his family, and he smiles — a rare, genuine smile that only you have ever seen.
“all you need is a little bit of love in the mix,” he murmurs to himself, your words from years ago echoing in his mind.
and maybe, just maybe, that’s the truth he needed all along.
as the sun begins to set, casting a golden light across the room, sukuna stands there, feeling the weight of everything and nothing all at once. he has his family, his love, his life. and for the first time in a long, long time, he feels at peace.
fin.
while you're here, why not check out some fun facts about persephone that didn't make it to the final cut? ;D the "slap me" safe word with sukuna was inspired by @webism's kinktober post, make sure to check it out <3 produced by creamflix on tumblr. all rights reserved. do not copy, steal, modify, repost — support your writers by liking and reblogging. ♡ banners by cafekitsune
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