#fucking drowning in love for him today i miss him so much

[inkykeiji]

@ ᴛᴏᴜʏᴀ ᴛᴏᴅᴏʀᴏᴋɪ i miss u come home to me :(

[holybibly]

Bunnies, I wondered if you missed me as much as I missed you?

Today's unholy hours. You're riding on Wooyoung's pretty face.

Wooyoung moaned hoarsely, pressing your pretty pussy so close to his face as if his life depended on it, his finger pads digging into the soft skin of your thick thighs hard enough to leave a purple haze that would remind you for weeks of that euphoric moment between you two. 

You'd always loved how possessive and rough Wooyoung was with you, especially when he fucked you, turning your body into his own artwork with hundreds of bites, scratches, and bruises. Maybe it wasn't exactly normal, or maybe you were a little biased towards that type of guy. Who knows? His behavior in the bedroom created a perfect dissonance with his usually playful and chaotic nature, each time overwhelming you with contrasting how different he could be. One moment Wooyoung would be kissing the palms of your hands and gently stroking your cheek, and the next you would be sitting on his face, riding him like a thoroughbred stallion, while his firm grip held you in place. 

Just like now, as Wooyoung's long tongue caresses your moist, silky folds and his nose rubs against your swollen, sensitive clit, and further stimulating it with a little kitten lick and hot kiss that he gives your pussy as your hips roll over his handsome face. 

Your fingers tangled in the disarray of his raven silk strands, tugging lightly at the soft curls, occasionally scratching his scalp with your fingernails, causing him to make deep, hoarse moans of pleasure, drowned out by the loud, obscene noise of his greedily eating your cunt. 

Your eyes, half closed with bliss, lowered to his face, or rather the part of his face that wasn't hidden by your thighs, which encircled his head with a seductive but suffocating grip. A shiver of pleasure ran down your curved spine as your eyes met the lustful, pleasure-glazed gaze of his dark fox eyes that penetrated you. The intensity of that gaze was so powerful that you wanted to cover your face with your hands in embarrassment. Your head was thrown back, your kiss-swollen lips fell open in a loud, melodious moan of his name, and your eyes rolled back into the back of your head as Wooyoung's hot, plump lips closed around your clit, drawing it in his mouth and sucking sweetly on that little lump of nerve. The sensation was so strong, it was like bare electrical wires touching your naked skin. It made your hips jerk slightly, and more of the viscous, sweet fluid spurted from your quivering hole and flowed directly into Wooyoung's mouth. 

Open-mouthed kisses streamed over your swollen labia, the tip of his nose sliding over the moist, glistening skin of your pussy, following the trail of his tongue until his long, hot appendage slid into your silky folds, swirling back and forth. The soft rustle of the creamy satin sheets tingled Wooyoung's ears as soft white noise mixed with melodious moans escaped your lips as his nose pressed especially hard against your throbbing clit and the tip of his tongue entered the narrow, oozing hole, licking the silky walls of you from the inside.

Your muscles burned with tension, but you ignored it as the glass-sharp pleasure coursed through your body, eclipsing any other pain but sexual pain. You gripped the headboard of the bed with your free hand, trying to balance your weight over Wooyoung as you could no longer trust your legs, his name tumbling from your lips like the sweetest prayer, making his fingers dig harder into your thighs, the crescents of his nails digging into your skin until it bled. The quiet, husky moans of his name were a spell that enchanted him, making him serve and worship you like a goddess. All Wooyoung could think about at that moment was how he could give you the most amazing orgasm possible.

Your moans grew louder, as did the speed of his tongue. The wet slurping sounds echoed in Wuyong's ears as he relentlessly fucked your tight hole with his tongue, slurping the sweet nectar of your cunt like a hungry man. He fucked you mercilessly with his tongue, while his nose ran firmly over your clit, doubly stimulating you. His foxy eyes watched as you slowly collapsed under the movements of his tongue as droplets of sweat rolled down your body, sliding down your seductively succulent curves as the heat of pleasure spilled over your body in a hot flush. Your soft, voluptuous thighs were pressed against the sides of his head as you rode his face, rubbing your wet cunt over his mouth, nose, and chin, smearing your juices over his cheeks and high cheekbones, and making his hard cock twitch painfully. He was as close to orgasm as you were. 

"Oh God, Wooyoung!" You cried out loudly as your orgasm ripped through you in a blinding explosion of sensation; your nails dug into the skin of his scalp, delivering Wooyoung a mixture of pain and pleasure that rippled through his entire body down to his cock. Your entire body shook in slight convulsions as the shockwaves of pleasure continued to roll over you one after another. Wooyoung's strong arms guided you through your orgasm, supporting your weight and finally laying you on your back, your hair scattered across the satin of the soft pillow like a silk fan.

A pair of familiar, mesmerizing fox eyes gazed lovingly at you while the rough pads of his fingers soothingly stroked up and down your thigh. Your hand found his face, cupping his smooth cheek and gently running the pad of your finger over the beautiful mole under his eye. Wooyoung wrinkled his nose playfully, turning his face so that he could kiss you on the palm of your hand, and his hot hand squeezed your thigh. 

"Next time, I'll eat you until you pass out from pleasure, baby. I'll never be able to get enough of you." Wooyoung leaned down to your face and kissed your lips sweetly. As his tongue entered your mouth, you could taste your own juices, and the heat of excitement washed over you again. 

"Hmm, why don't you do it now, Woo? Make me faint with pleasure, my pretty boy." 

[angelsfat3]

ꮩ. [𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖽 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾𝗌...]

ᴍᴀɪɴ ᴀᴄᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: @foschiamara

⢀⠀⠀.   ⋆ ･˳ . ⋆  ⭒ ✿ ⭒ ⋆･. ˳ . ⋆ ⠀⢀⠀⠀.   ⋆ ･˳⠀.   ⋆ ･˳ . ⋆  ⭒ ∗

C/w: bottom Mreader, curses, mentions of: spanking, hickeys and bites + EVERYTHING is consensual. ㅤ－ㅤTw: none. (Correct me if I'm wrong.)

Genre: smut drabble, h/canons.

A/N: I no longer have the @ of the person who requested it, but after half a month, here it is. (I did it this way because I didn't have much imagination. 💔)

𝗹𝗲𝗲 𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗌𝖾𝗎𝗇𝗀 ⓘ𝒶𝓈 𝗀𝗋𝖺𝗉𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖺𝗀𝗇𝗂𝖺. ！ 💌

⒈ “You don't know how bad I want to break you, put your head on the mirror and leave your ass red from so many spanks...”

⒉ “My cock would look so good inside you, nothing better than seeing your ass swallow my entire dick.”

When you received the notes, your head was completely blank, your eyes traveled from the small sheet of paper to your boyfriend's face, noticing how he didn't take his eyes off of you. His eyes traveled through every corner of your body, undressing you in his imagination.

He was a boy of word and he wouldn't miss the opportunity to fuck you hard when the cameraman gave them a half hour break (this was for changing outfit and makeup). After all, you were the one who helped him get dressed and also the one who did his makeup.

𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗄 𝗷𝗼𝗻𝗴𝘀𝗲𝗼𝗻𝗴 ⓘ𝒶𝓈 𝖾𝗑𝗁𝗂𝖻𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗂𝗌𝗆. ！ 📷

Today was the 21st ecological film festival in Seoul and your boyfriend had invited you, nothing nicer than an outdoor date. When you two arrived, he alone guided you to the highest part of the place, with the excuse that both of you would have a better view.

At first everything was very calm, you two watching a comedy movie, laughter here and laughter there. Now you were spread wide open, without pants, with your eyes closed and your lips forming a single line, preventing any moan from coming out.

“Hey, my love... you're missing the best part of the movie.”

One of his hands was busy, or rather, his fingers were busy moving inside you, smoothly caressing your prostate. With the other he caressed your glans with the help of his thumb, exerting firmness with his palm.

“If you want this to end, watch the fucking movie, love.”

𝙨𝙞𝙢 𝗃𝖺𝖾𝗒𝗎𝗇 ⓘ𝒶𝓈 𝖽𝖺𝖼𝗋𝗒𝗉𝗁𝗂𝗅𝗂𝖺. ！ ���

"You're crying? Aww, poor thing. Keep doing it."

His hands were buried on your waist as he continued to hit every sweet spot inside you with his veiny cock, his pace increasing the more you cried and begged him to give you a break.

Although Jake used to (almost) always be a very energetic, sweet and tender boy, he was also someone who, just by seeing you cry because of the way he played with your body, could feel his cock getting even harder, causing bearable pain throughout his phallus.

He loved fucking you in the missionary position, as it allowed him to get close to your face, lick your tears and leave marks everywhere possible, inflicting pain (on purpose) every time he sucked on your skin.

𝗽𝗮𝗿𝗸 𝘀𝘂𝗻𝗴𝗵𝗼𝗼𝗻 ⓘ𝒶𝓈 𝗈𝖽𝖺𝗑𝖾𝗅𝖺𝗀𝗇𝗂𝖺. ！ 🩸

All your early mornings always started the same way, a couple of wet kisses that threatened your neck, with tickles that little by little lifted you up. You avoided at all costs that he could continue advancing, so you tried to move slightly, but everything was in vain. His hands always ended up surrounding you.

“Come on... a little fun won't hurt, plus I'm kind of stressed. Don’t you want to help me, baby?”

A sneaky smile always formed on his face when he saw how your chest swelled quickly every time he moved his hand to your thighs and how quickly he placed himself on top of you, continuing with the initial plan, the kisses that eventually led to bites.

Over time, the entire room was drowned out by your moans, which were generated by the bites that were mostly always on your shoulders, belly and neck. Your vampi-boy's fangs were the cause of the pain, but it was compensated by the blowjob he was giving you.

메모 ! 📌ㅤ⸻ㅤ I FINALLY HAD INSPIRATION (it took me half a month). I really hope you liked this, although English is not my native language, I do my best.

ㅤㅤ아이디어 !ㅤ⸻ㅤI'm very short of ideas lately, so feel free to ㅤㅤㅤ leave me any requests! <⁠(⁠￣⁠︶⁠￣⁠)⁠>

[justwinginglife]

The best way to a man's heart is through his dick.

Hoshina who's strict on not getting attached to one night stands but swears he fell so hard for the reader once she gave him the best head of him life.

I love this prompt so much, thank you. Now excuse me while I go suck Soshiro's dick, I must have his love. Also, I think the request was NSFW warning enough, but fyi this is NSFW lmao.

Head Game

You'd never heard a man beg before, but that would change today.

You sat back, licking at the cum that was slathered across your lips, as you eyed the man that was now writhing in your bedsheets.

"Did you not just cum twice in a row down my throat?"

He bit his lip and covered his face with one hand. "S-still hard..." He groaned into his palm.

"Okay, so say it. Tell me."

"Suck me off. Again. Please."

"How badly do you need it?" You nuzzled the tip of your nose against his inner thigh and he sucked in a sharp breath.

"Fuck, I need it so bad. Gimme those pretty lips of yours."

Your whole life you'd preferred to be splayed out beneath a man, preferred to be dominated, to be whimpering and whining at his demanding touch. But the sight of this particular man, all flushed and desperate, his legs spread wide with eagerness for you, got you going more than you ever imagined it would. You wanted to drown yourself in his cum. You wanted to choke on his erection, feel his throbbing veins against the walls of your mouth. You wanted to take in his cock so frequently that your throat melded to the shape of it.

You were past the teasing point. You'd spent the last two times flicking your tongue here and there, playing with his balls, pressing light kisses to his tip, just edging him on slowly. But you'd tasted him too much at this point to wait patiently for another serving. You wanted him pumping down your throat and you wanted it now.

You took his whole length in one motion and he let out a strangled gasp.

"F-fuck... not even... gonna gimme time... t-to adjust? So s-sensitive still."

You smirked against his dick. He'd been so impatient moments ago and now he couldn't handle it? Too bad. He was going to have to pay for his greed. You couldn't remember the last time you enjoyed giving head so much (maybe never), and you planned to enjoy yourself some more.

The feeling of him roughly fucking the back of your throat, his swollen tip still sticky with the remnants of his last two orgasms, made you immensely thirsty and you'd take his cum as payment any day.

You picked up the pace, feeling as desperate as he was now. The walls of your mouth suctioning tight around him as you engorged yourself, savoring every slicked-up inch of him. You moaned when his precum started drizzling down the back of your throat, the familiar sweetness seeping in.

The rumbling of your moan against his overloaded erection made him squirm. A squeak escaped his lips as he arched into the sensation.

Then you felt the sheets tug underneath you as he clenched them tight. He gripped the back of your head and thrust himself deeper into you, causing waves of his cum to gush into your mouth. He groaned into his fist as he watched you down every last drop. Again.

Even when he'd completely finished and was gasping for breath, trying to recover from the intensity, you kept him deep inside you. You loved the feeling of him twitching in your mouth as his arousal slowly receded.

But you also knew he wouldn't be able to go all night. He'd leave your bedside eventually. He'd leave your life. You wanted him still, even just for a second longer. So you continued sucking at the remnants of his erection until he begged you to allow him respite, his sensitivity spiking through the roof.

You collapsed onto the bed beside him, wondering when he'd make the decision to go. Wondering if you'd miss him in your bed. It'd only been one night. One night wasn't enough to miss someone. Or was it?

You unwillingly sank into a deep sleep, your mind drowning in thoughts of him. You were overwhelmed by the sheer amount of thoughts you had for this stranger.

When you woke in the morning, he was gone.

You buried your face into your pillow and sighed heavily.

Part of you wanted to go back to the bar, to see if he was there, see if he was retracing your steps last night, if he was also remembering the way he'd pinned you up against the bathroom wall and then bent you over the sink before you'd made the decision to take him back to your place to continue.

But you'd already known what your arrangement was before you even unlocked the front door for him. You knew you were nothing- just one blip on the timeline. One nice night, one forgettable night.

You didn't even know what he did for work, where he lived, what his favorite color was, what his phone number was. You didn't know him. You'd never know him. And maybe that was for the better.

But as you went about your day, you found yourself imagining his eyes, his smirk, his whines. You wondered if he pictured you on the bathroom counter, inhaling his lips like fresh air, if he pictured you in between his legs, drinking him up like fresh water. You knew you needed to stop. He was just a one night stand... a one night stand you'd remember for the rest of your nights.

By evening, you were honestly contemplating if you'd ever be able to be intimate with anybody else ever again without comparing them to him when you heard a knock on the door.

You cautiously made your way to the door, wondering who could be here at this time of night.

It was him.

He was panting, like he'd just suddenly made the decision to visit on a whim. On a wish.

Your heart lurched in your chest as you waited for his explanation but you weren't sure if you even needed it. You were ready to welcome him in. Ready to go for another round. Or not. Or just sit on the couch and talk. Drink together. Get to know him.

You really had to stop thinking like this, he probably just forgot something here last night.

"Hiya stranger." He was grinning but his words seemed hesitant, as if he wasn't quite sure what he was doing on your doorstep.

"Hi." You couldn't muster up anymore words for him, your mind was already overfilling with thoughts, with hopes, and you didn't want to give yourself away. Didn't want to say too much, too fast. You honestly thought if you opened your mouth again you might be the one begging this time, you might ask him to stay.

He cleared his throat. Then he cleared it again, fidgeting with the bottom of his shirt. "Soo... how's your day been?"

You laughed at that. "Might as well ask me how the weather is, Soshiro."

He stood up straight at hearing his name. "Well how is it then? How's the weather?"

"Honestly? It's been kind of sad today."

"Ahh, I see. I've not been having great weather either. Was better last night."

"Agreed. Everything was better last night."

"I think I'd like a do-over."

You raised an eyebrow. "Of... the weather?"

He rubbed the back of his head and laughed awkwardly. "I think you know we're not talking about the weather anymore, love."

You stepped aside to let him in and it was way too quick, way too eager, but you didn't care. You also wanted a do-over of last night. Again and again. Until it was all of your nights.

You thought he was going to kiss you but he hugged you. Just held you tight for a moment.

"Would you think I was crazy if I said I missed you?" He murmured against your shoulder.

You shook your head quickly, though still silent. You were in shock and couldn't quite find the right words to say.

"I think I could fall in love with you, you know."

Your eyes widened at his sudden statement. But then you giggled. "Because you like my head game?"

He blushed and buried his rosy cheeks deep into your shoulder. "Not just that... but yeah. Kinda."

He couldn't see you smiling, but you thought he had to know he'd made you happy because he pulled you even closer after that.

You ran your hands up and down his back, trying to steel yourself to finally say what you were thinking. "I'd be okay with that... if you wanted to fall in love with me. I could love you back."

His head shot up so he could meet your gaze.

"I'd like that. I'd like to try."

And he did.

He filled all your nights and all your days.

He filled your thoughts, filled your body.

Filled your chest with laughter, filled your heart with love.

You were so full of him, you couldn't live without him anymore.

And he never made you live without him ever again.

[marysdonuts]

Turning Tables

wants to be chased!Jeonghan x had enough of chasing!reader

Synopsis: requested in this two part ask

WC: 1.6K

Warnings: not much, making Jeonghan jealous, crack, implied oral (f)

a/n: both parts combined to one post. first half - your pov, second - Jeonghan's

masterlist / requests / taglist

Oh the almighty Jeonghan. Sent from above specifically to torture you. The popular guy who has six ladies lined up on each finger hoping to get their turn. Funny, easy on the eye but that personality? Ugh, you've seen better.

You made your interest in him more than clear, still.. to this day no definite answer. Only insufferable amount of teasing. You weren't one to play the game of push n' pull. It was getting on your nerves. Especially the constant flirting with anything that moved - just for sport. Or maybe not for sport per sé but to get you jealous. Making sure you saw him making move on somebody. There was even a moment when he jokingly almost kissed you only to pull away at the last moment, smug as hell. So full of himself.

Fuck it. Does he think he is the only one who has options? Isn't the last man on Earth for sure. The hell. Time to give him a taste of his own medicine.

//

And so you danced. You danced with every man who showed even drop of interest that night. Sending Jeonghan clear message - this is what you are missing by acting like a little bitch. Drowning one drink after another. Price? Didn't matter. They were paying.

When a friend of yours, equally as drunk, suggested to climb on the bar, you thought it an excellent idea. Both of you moving to the rhythm of some latino song with questionable, extremely toxic lyrics. Drink in hand, Great Gatsby style, you cheered the growing attendance at your feet. People going feral.

"I think you've had enough fun for today," Jeonghan's cold hand grasping your ankle "time to go home."

"Who are you to tell me if I had enough?" seemingly asking the audience a rhetorical question, crushing his fingers with your heel

"Your boyfriend~" squirming in pain

"My boyfriend?? Stop pissing me off Jeonghan. I had enough of your shit. It's not difficult to find somebody better than yo-"

Fuck, am I falling?

All the drinks from before picked the worst moment to take effect. Dizzy head, weak legs, heels plus slippery bar? Unfortunate combination. You were indeed about to hit the floor.

Next thing you know shawty got low low low - Music in the background mocking your life decisions

"Aaaaaaa" crashing down, drink spilled, body aching, pride hurt

"Actually.. It doesn't hurt that much? Guess this fat ass saved me once again." patting it lovingly

"Ugh huh, or it was someone's handsome ass that saved your fat ass" Noticing Jeonghan squished under you, also lovingly patting your bum in unison

"Yah!" jumping to your feet "Don't touch me you perver-!!!" intoxication not letting you fishing your sentence, making you wobble, once again ending up in Jeonghan's arms

"I would love to oblige, my lady," fixing strand of hair behind your ear "if only you weren't so desperate for my company." delighted smile painted on lips

This fucking bitch keeps playing with me!! You wanted to punch hole into his beautiful face. Body working faster than the mouth, clenched fist flew towards douchebag's face.

KAPOW!!!

Sadly, your fist was not at all clenched, flying much further from his face, finally landing on his chest. You weren't sure if his shirt was always this unbuttoned but what was staring at you currently - pair of *shiny* man-tiddies.

"wow" blinded by the sight

"Well, well, well," Jeonghan caressed your hand moving it over his heart "do you really want to know my feelings that much?" Mischievous eyes trying to meet the hazy ones.

"yea" gaze still kinda stuck on his tiddies

"In that case, let's go somewhere more private"

//

The first time Jeonghan kissed you was in backseat of taxi on the way to his apartment. It wasn't just a kiss. More like he was feeding off your growing excitement. Producing such obscene sounds the driver had to rise the radio volume.

//

Reaching the destination, the moment the door closed shut, you found yourself pinned against them. Jeonghan's urgent lips tracing the curve of your neck.

"You really made a number on me today, you know that?" sucking at the sensitive skin, leaving mark behind

"Oh? Allow me to laugh. The Jeonghan hot and bothered? Hard to believe." tauntingly, grasping the hair

"Tell me 'bout it..," defeated exhale tickling your ear "seeing you with all those men...didn't expect to feel like that. Made me want to jump every single one of them."

"Did it, now?" placing thumb on his bottom lip "little boy got upset when his toy was taken away?" full of irony

"I was never good at sharing" allowing the entire length of your finger feel the softness of his mouth, sucking it almost apologetically

"Forgive me?" Big brown eyes praying for redemption

Not sure if it was the residual alcohol but this time his words felt sincere. Seeing him sucking on your thumb like that, all docile and at your mercy..? Ufff, you were running too hot

"Want me to forgive you, huh, " making him sink to his knees under your authoritarian tone.

"you know what to do." parted legs offering not so subtle invitation to the sinner beneath you.

.

.

.

"At your service, my lady~"

Jeonghan's pov

Yes- he loved to tease you even after you confessed your feelings. He played games to make sure you were really up for the challenge. Testing your character and morals. Enjoyed torturing you a bit too much. However when it came to his feelings.. Jeonghan thought himself to be the only one worthy of your affections. He intended to show his interest soon enough, just wanted to frolic for a moment longer. Tragically that was exactly where he miscalculated.

And there you were, in all your glory, dancing with bunch of worthless peasants.

Jeonghan could literally feel the blood in his veins boiling. How dare they put their filthy, sweaty little hands on your holy vessel? Were they really so dense to think someone like YOU would be interested in them?

"Pathetic losers." Furiously gulping down his drink only to smash the glass on the floor. Making any bystander jump away in fear.

Tangible darkness emitting from Jeonghan's pitch black stare in direction of the unfortunate dude you were dancing with. Poor guy shivering, cold sweat running down his spine. He got the message and promptly took his leave.

"That's what I thought" Jeonghan scoffed, raking thru his hair

After not so subtly, striking terror into all the suitors, new drink in hand and in high spirits, he was watching your bar show. How your hair sparkled in the light, how you moved to the seductive latino rhythm - not a care in the world. He watched you cheer the crowd, queen in the castle.

"It's about time I made my move." few long steps, grasp on your ankle

"I think you've had enough fun for today," lifting his gaze, half entertained half worried you might come crashing down "time to go home."

"Who are you to tell me if I had enough?" the way you proudly pushed your chest out, the delicate curve of your décolleté, made it's way straight to his pants heart

"Your boyfriend~" damn, stepping on my fingers now? Guess I deserve that

"Aaaaaaa"

Jeonghan saw you falling in slow motion, drink spilled all over him, catching you at the last moment

"Actually.. It doesn't hurt that much? Guess this fat ass saved me once again."

"Ugh huh, or it was someone's handsome ass that saved your fat ass" rubbing your bum lovingly, it was very nice bum

"Yah!" jumping to your feet "Don't touch me you perver-!!!" There you were once again falling into his open arms. Jeonghan could hardly contain his enjoyment, pulling you closer

"I would love to oblige, my lady," fixing strand of hair behind your ear "if only you weren't so desperate for my company." delighted smile painted on lips

Angry palm flying in his direction made him chuckle. Such tiny hand managed to destroy four buttons on his shirt. He could see your eyes glued to the bare chest. Like what you see?

"Well, well, well, do you really want to know my feelings that much?"

"yea"

"In that case, let's go somewhere more private"

//

The moment taxi started moving all the repressed feelings came rushing to his head, famished animal, so so desperate, his lips on yours were searching for sustenance. You were so beautiful and his. After he's done with you tonight he will shout it to the whole world but right now he will at least let this old man behind the wheel know what's up.

He fucked up and was willing to do anything to make it up to you.

//

Once he had his hands on you he couldn't let go. Well, he could but didn't want to. Holding you so tight, no distance left between the two of you, it was almost unbearable. Every part screaming into the void of his aching heart.

He just wanted to make you feel good. To show you how much he really liked you. Spoil you rotten. Never let another guy touch an inch of your body.

"Forgive me?" Falling to his knees, just a sinner asking for redemption in front of your heavenly gates

"Want me to forgive you, huh," "you know what to do."

Oh, he knew

"At your service, my lady~" After finally receiving his absolution Jeonghan prayed more than dutifully

[atzhrts]

shotaro as your boyfriend ྀིྀིྀིྀིྀི

happy taro day <3 i love him so much you guys :(

matching couple items - you have a bunch of matching hoodies, rings & necklaces, beanies, etc

will give his part of the match to you a few days before he leaves for a overseas schedule so it will carry your scent, for when he misses you extra

overall very obsessed with you

always taking pictures of you or the two of you together

has you as his lockscreen and a picture of you at the back of his phone

so cuddly and so clingy

his hands are always on you in some way

holding hands is favorite way

hands on your waist, arm wrapped around your shoulder, hand on top of your head, playing with your hair while he’s paying attention to something else

will pull you in his lap every chance he gets, wrapping his arms around your middle and tucking his chin over your shoulder, gives a quick peck to your temple/cheek before focusing his attention on the topic again

always texting you when he has some extra time

plays games with you via imessage literally all the time

especially when he has schedules overseas - text you in middle of the night for you and you’ll wake up to his spam

“miss you so much” “stage today was good baby” “i miss my angel” “wish i could be in you arms” “i need cuddles:(“

sends you so many pictures throughout his day - many many selfies but even more pictures of things that remind him of you

loves having you lay your head on his chest as you watch tiktoks together (imagine his giggles :()

obsessed with getting compliments from you, especially on his dancing - gives him a huge ego boost if it comes from you

always looks at you with the fondest smile on his face

would love to teach you some japanese if you don’t speak it, mostly making you say things like “shotaro is the most handsome” (no lie detected) but would go crazy over teaching you some domestic things for when you’re meeting his family

would absolutely love if you’d dance with him

send you a lot of fun pics (have you seen his body?????? the abs??????the chest?????????????:!:’mdjsndjdjd)

nsfw below - mdni

i think he’s a freak - i don’t buy the innocent act

obsessed with your ass

always has a hand on it, squeezing it whenever he gets stressed

loves to hit it from the back so he can see your ass jiggle around his dick

very fond of trying anal

might put a finger into your ass when he fucks you from behind, always wanting to stuff you full in the best way possible

shotaro loves eating you out, especially when you sit on his face and he gets to have your ass in his face - drowning in your pussy

would love to try 69, moaning against your wetness as you take him down your throat - it would only result in him spanking your ass every time you get distracted by his tongue tho

on the topic of that he absolutely loves spanking the shit out of you

sends you videos of him jerking off whenever he’s away (with sound)

very very whiny & very fond of moaning directly into your ear

very nasty mouth

pull you up during doggy, pressing your back against his chest while he stuffs your mouth with his fingers

[xoxo-honeyy]

wake-up call

^ he's such a scrumptious dilf, jus' wanna eat him up

summary: you wake up to strange noises coming from the bathroom and decide to go investigate. when you open the door, you find vander in a very compromising position...

warnings: afab reader, unprotected vaginal sex (don't be silly wrap your willy), cuddle fucking, dom!vander, sub!reader, tried very hard not to describe readers looks (implied chubby reader? kind of), somewhat of a size kink? (blink and you'll miss), male masturbation, use of pet names (princess, love), cockwarming, barely proofread, reader walks vander like a dog, smut that ends in fluff. reader is a stressed out mama, porn with little plot, please let me know if I've missed anything!

author's note: so i wanted to write a somno fic with vander but i didn't really know how to go about it so here's this mess that i don't know what to do with! this is also crossposted on ao3 at xoxo_honey!

wc: 1.6k

It had been a long day at work. Fights needed to be broken up, various repairs had to be made, and one of the beer taps broke which made business go a lot slower than usual. All of this caused Vander to come home a lot later than he usually did which put him in a bad mood.

All day while he was at work, Vander couldn't stop thinking about you. your soft touch. The way your plush body slotted perfectly against his. How you curled up against him this morning when he tried to get out of bed. the way your tight cunt wrapped around his cock so perfectly the night before, drowning him in orgasmic bliss. And all day he was trying desperately to force those thoughts away to avoid any awkward boner situations with his customers. but, towards the end of the night, his nasty thoughts came back in full force and flooded his head with a lust-filled haze. 

So when he got home, Vander already had two strikes against him. He was grumpy and sporting a half-hard cock. 

He unlocked the front door and closed it behind him. He quietly crept past the kids' room and made his way into your shared bed where you were snoring softly. 

Today hasn't been much better for you either. It was your day off of work so you decided to take the kids around the undercity and entertain them with the various light shows and firework displays. What a terrible idea. Not only were all of the children extremely giddy to spend the day with you, but they also made pancakes loaded with sugar and syrup to get them extra hyper. 

So, your day consisted of carting four restless, sugar-high kids around the Undercity, but you were also running on little to no sleep thanks to Vander and his outrageous libido.

When it was time to get back to your dingy little apartment, the five of you were exhausted and decided to go to bed early. 

Unlucky for you, a horny and cranky Vander had just laid down right next to you. The neon lights shone in through the moth-eaten curtains of your bedroom and cast a dim glow over your sleeping form, outlining the plump curve of your breasts and highlighting the gorgeous planes of your face. Which really wasn't helping Vanders...situation at all.

Deciding that he needed to relieve himself before getting a good night's sleep, Vander moved to get back up from the comfort of your shared bed and made his way to the bathroom. 

It had been a while since he needed to jerk off. Trying to remember how exactly he used to do it before you came along, his mind started to wander to different pictures of you. Vander could only remember your lips wrapped around the base of his cock while his tip repeatedly hit the back of your throat making you gag and moan around him.

Fuck.

The soft clinking of his belt becoming undone filled the muggy air of the cramped bathroom. Vander moved his pants and boxer down so they hung low on his waist, exposing just enough so his girthy dick was able to spring free from its confines. 

He spit on the palm of his large hand and wrapped it around his shaft, slowly moving it up and down. The rough calluses on his palm only served as a reminder of your soft one stroking his cock, finding different ways to tease him and make him cum. he moved his hand back up his penis and made contact with his leaking tip. His thumb moved back and forth over the slit and more pre-cum spilled down his length.

No longer able to control the noises coming out of his mouth, Vander bit down on a wad of his shirt. But this only helped stifle the sounds to a certain extent.

Down the hall in your bedroom, you were awakened out of your stupor because of strange noises coming from the bathroom. worried that one of the kids was sick, or god forbid, there was an intruder in the house, you decided to get out of bed and go investigate.

As you made your way down the hall, the noises became clearer and they were similar to the noises you heard during previous nights. You immediately knew who was in the bathroom.

You opened the door and found Vander hunched over with his hard cock in his fist, with his balled-up shirt in his mouth. 

Now Vander had three strikes against him. He got caught and was still horny, but his bad mood lessened upon seeing your beautiful face. 

Immediately Vander moved to pull his pants up while fumbling over his words trying to come up with an adequate explanation as to what exactly he was doing. 

You quickly cut him off, "What are you doing?" a slight smirk played at your lips. You knew exactly what he was doing.

"M sorry princess, didn't mean to wake you." He avoided the question.

Stepping closer to him you responded in a soft, sultry, whisper, "That's not what I asked."

Stopping his actions, you took his erect tip into your hands and started stroking him. Repeating the same motions he was doing just moments before. He immediately let out a guttural moan and you stopped your teasing movements. 

You turned your back to him and walked out of the bathroom knowing full well he was hot on your trail. 

The two of you made it into your bed and laid down, but Vander was confused, "What are you doing love?" 

Not responding, you simply pulled down your cotton pajama shorts along with your thin panties with a noticeable damp spot in the center and rolled over so your back was pressed up against his broad chest.

"'M tired Vander." You explained, "Don't feel like doing anything." 

But there was an underlying message that Vander had not yet caught onto.

You gave him a moment to think, and when his eyes brightened, you knew he had figured it out. 

Slowly, Vander moved impossibly closer to you and moved two of his thick fingers to your heat. the digits moved at a tantalizing pace, up and down your folds to work you up for his girthy cock. Your slick was dripping around his fingers and when he pushed one in, it came out soaking.

Letting out a whimper, you started to rut your hips against his hands in hopes to relieve the ache in your core. 

Vander only chuckled and whispered, "All you gotta do is ask princess. I don't know what you want if you don't tell me."

Broken words tumbled from your lips, "Please, wan' your cock."

"Where do you want it? your mouth?" He responded knowing full well exactly where you wanted it.

You couldn't wait anymore, "Want it 'n my pussy."

Deciding that you had enough, Vander finally gave you what you wanted. He slipped his hefty dick into your tight, wet heat. Each time you had sex, it took you a few moments to adjust to the sheer size of him because he was just so big. the two of you sighed a breath of relief, hours of wanting and lust-filled brains had rendered you both into horny teenagers. Vander's large arms wrapped around your waist so he was holding you firm into his body. The embrace pouring love and protectiveness through your very being.

After you had gotten re-used to his impressive girth, Vander started to lightly thrust in and out of your core. His movements were more akin to grinding than thrusting but he was too tired to fully complete his movements. His hand moved down to your red, needy clit and started rubbing tight circles on the bundle of nerves. 

As a small form of punishment, Vander lightly slapped your swollen clit a number of times until tears formed in your eyes. stopping the harsh movement, he started gently tugging at your button until breathy moans fell from your lips. 

The added movement of his fingers combined with his dick repeatedly hitting your cervix, you felt your stomach clenching and your thighs shaking, a sign of your impending orgasm. Letting out a series of high-pitched moans you shoved your face into the pillow and bit down on it. 

Vander's hips faltered and the hand that was tugging at your clit started lightly quivering. He was also close. revived with newfound energy to finish the two of you off, Vander's thrusts became more powerful. The sound of skin slapping reverberated around the room.

Suddenly your mind went blank, the only feeling you were capable of discerning was pleasure as your orgasm rolled over you and took over your entire nervous system.

Sensing that Vander was at the precipice of his imminent orgasm, you decided to help him out by meeting his harsh thrusts by grinding your hips back onto his, overstimulation be damned.

It was all too much for him. The clenching of your cunt, the way you wrapped so perfectly around his cock, the feeling of your soft body safe in his arms. His seed spilled into you filling you up with warm, gooey liquid, the familiar sensation was oddly comforting. 

You removed the pillow case from your teeth and took in lungfuls of the cool night air. Vander massaged your waist and hips to get rid of any potential bruising and whispered into your sweaty skin, "Maybe I should wake you up like that more often."

Laughter bubbled up your throat and reached Vander's ears.

"M extra tired now." You sighed, thinking of all the things you had to get done in the morning.

Vander, already knowing the amount of work you had piled on your desk suggested, "Why don't you take the day off tomorrow? The six of us could have a spa day or something?"

Leaning your head against his sweaty chest you closed your eyes and smiled, "Yeah, I think I'd like that."

hope you guys liked this, i had sm fun writing it! this is also cross-posted on ao3 at xoxo_honey, the link is in my pinned post!

[lixies-favorite-cookie]

doomsday ◦ h.j

—Sometimes doomsday wasn't the crumbling of a city; doomsday was an apocalypse of the mind

@anon im so glad you requested this bc I literally loved writing it so much like it fr had my creative juices FLOWING so feel free to request anytime babes

Paring ◦ Han x reader

Words ◦ 5231

Genre ◦ Hurt and comfort, ngl this angsty asf

Warnings ◦ han is a dick at the beginning but he is redeemed, panic attacks, language (like fr so many fucks in this its wild), talk about wasting your life, anxiety, fear, han is such a cunt at first its insane, not edited, uhhh I think that's it.

A/N ◦ This one is chaotic asf so if you don't like my chaotic writing this is definitely where you might wanna click off 💀ALSO IF YOU LIKED THIS PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE TELL ME like it literally doesn't have to be much you can just be like it was pretty cool

~CookieCreates🍪

Sometimes it felt like Han gave away the numbers of the clock like dollar bills, bartering off a life that only ever seemed to be rushing away like a river roaring down the rocks too fast. He scoops little moments out from the shimmering rapids, but time still trickles between his fingers; the hours melting together like wax dripping down the spindly hands, its bony fingers-

reaching

reaching

r e a c h i n g

out to him, pulling him into a pool at the bottom of his feet, a pool of glittering, glowing memories.

Is this all life is?

Working

Stressing

Never sleeping

Never eating

Is the praise worth it?

Those hopeless nights, endless days, tired eyes, and a mind made of mush—was it all worth it?

Was any of it worth it?

The roar of the crowds drowning out the sound of the seconds-

tick

tick

ticking away, the shuffle of the sand seeping into the bottom of the hourglass—he taps the crystal dome, wondering how much of it is left—wondering when it all will stop.

When he can stop.

Han was a fizzing bottle of soda—shook for too long—today was hard; every day before a comeback is: producing, singing, dancing, learning, watching, waiting-

Checking off boxes on a list that never ended, so when he finally walks into the door of your shared apartment, a room he feels like he hasn't seen in weeks, he doesn't really notice you anxiously sitting on the couch, your knees bouncing on the floor mindlessly-

snapping

snapping

snapping

on the linoleum, something so simple shouldn't set him off, sure, but the sound was so familiar—so scary—it vibrated in his head, booming in his brain seconds-

ticking

ticking

ticking away

your feet

snapping

snapping

snapping on the ground.

He comes home to get away from the world rushing out from under him, so why were you sitting there being so fucking-

“Hannie!” You beam, sprinting over to throw your arms around his neck, breathing his scent in. It feels like centuries since you've seen him last. You vibrate with nervous, excited energy, practically bouncing up and down; but the thing was, right now he didn't want to be touched.

He didn't want to be held

He didn't want to have to talk

He didn't want to have to remember he had a life outside of the bubble that was his work. It felt like he was tending to gardens he didn't know how to grow. Your relationship had already sprouted; the seed planted a while ago, but even though the delicate stages of its development had passed, that didn't mean that it still didn't have to be cared for, and right now, he didn't care about anything. 

It was selfish, sure, but when you've spent your whole life giving parts of yourself away, selfishness seems so easy, at least while you still have small slivers of your soul left. 

He grates his teeth, everything seeming so wholly overwhelming, the walls encapsulating him in an unbreakable hourglass. He was so stressed, so tired, so done, so trapped. His breath stutters when you squeeze him tighter, nuzzling your nose against his shirt, staring up at him expectantly, eyes shimmering. 

"I haven't hugged you in forever I missed your face" you giggle voice like clouds of cotton candy but not quite sweet enough to dull the sour feeling settling in his stomach

He knows that love should never feel this hard, but right now everything he did felt hard, and the way you stare at him so longingly like you're going to combust if he doesn't perform, put on a fake smile, and act like everything is okay makes him feel like a fizzing bottle of soda with a lid screwed on too tight, and when you grip him tighter, trying to push an answer out of him

He flips his lid. 

"Holy shit, y/n, do you have to be so bombarding?" He snaps, pushing your arms away from him, almost looking disgusted. Your smile slips, staring at him in shock, still not really registering what he said. 

He doesn't know what feels worse—the way your features tremble with hurt or the way he knows he doesn't care. 

"I'm tired; I just want to go to bed, okay, and you are immediately rushing me; every day as soon as I get through the door, it's exhausting."

"You can't be serious," you whisper, genuinely believing what you said. He couldn't be serious. There was no way in hell he really believed that, but it didn't matter if he believed it or not; it all still hurt the same.

He wishes he could overlook the flames that flare in your eyes, consuming the stars that always seemed to shimmer.

What did he just do?

He sighs, collapsing onto the couch, digging the palms of his hands into his drooping eyes. He was so scared; the fear loosing his lips and everybody knows words of fear are the greatest lies. 

"Yes, I'm serious. Do you know how much work you are? I work all day, work, work, work, work everybody needs me always wanting, always needing something, something, fucking something," he growls, smacking his hands against his thighs, thrown into an unexplainable rage. "And as soon as I get home, you need me too; everybody is so fucking needy." The next words he says feel like an earthquake erupted in your soul, splitting your heart in two. 

"Your so fuckin' needy."

You flutter your eyelashes shut, pushing back emotions that boil in your brain. There are so many feelings fighting for the light, but instead of screaming, crying, or lashing out, you take a deep breath and fold your arms, calmly asking 

"Then why don't you just break up with me then?" There is nothing more terrifying than a woman whose fire rages behind a veil of ice, but when he looks up, watching the flames wrap around your posture, wisping around every edge of your bones, and even with the ashes of the love you once had for him fluttering in the wind, he still opens his big, fat, fucking mouth. 

"Or maybe I should have just never asked you out in the first place." No sooner did he spit the sentence out, did he want to shove it right back in his mouth. Your shoulders droop, eyes filling with an almost impossible amount of pain.

The earth crumbles, the walls of your shared home collapsing around you, rubble lost in all the memories that flicker away like embers floating from the burning configuration that was your relationship. It was ironic how the world worked; it took years to build up the love you felt and only a single sentence to wash it all away. You never thought you would see armageddon, but when those letters left his lips, you quickly realized sometimes doomsday wasn't the crumbling of a city; doomsday was an apocalypse of the mind. 

"Okay," you croak, hot tears streaming down your face; a wobbly smile pulls at your lips almost out of habit, facial muscles forced out of memory. 

You have never once imagined yourself drowning under so many words left unsaid, sinking in the waves of tears you fought back, and as you trudged up the stairs, sinking into your bed, you wondered when you would hear the begrudging footsteps—the hesitant knocks. Wondered when you'd hear his soft apology—a voice racked with guilt—but your fantasy never came.

All you heard was the clicking of the clock behind you, counting down the hours where he disappointed you again and again

You don't know what got to you first—the peirce of realization that he didn't regret the bitter insults that left his lips so easily or when you saw the calendar that peaked from the corner of your closet-

5 days

5 days left unmarked

5 days left blank

5 days until you celebrated your 3 year anniversary

Han Jisung would never know you were counting down the days

Han should have runned after you, and in perspective, after a good night's sleep and a nice warm meal, he has never felt so completely stupid for not, but after you trudged up the stairs with a pained smile and glassy eyes, he was so starkly shocked he had said something so disgustingly distasteful his feet stuck to the ground, and finally, after hours of staring at the pool of time bubbling by his shoes, he drifted into a restless sleep. 

It was as though his terror tainted him, making the glassy parts of his heart dirty, and when he took the edge off, it was like a harsh wipe away at all the murk, revealing his jarring reflection in the pearly mirror.

He was such a jerk

He whimpers, running anxious fingers through his hair. He has no viable excuse, no good reason why he treated you so poorly—for someone so obsessed with time, he should know that you can't get your life back—can't turn the hands of the clock 

Push rewind

Hit replay

For what value would life be if you could just start it all over again? The impossibility made all the precious moments sweeter, but like every good thing, it made memories like these all the more foul.

You didn't deserve that

He didn't deserve you

and as you slink down the stairs, eyes red-rimmed and puffy. He can't stop that booming voice biting at the back of his brain.

How long will it take you before you realize that too?

You flick your gaze to him, burning with loathing cloaked behind layers of indifference. It floors him—those subtle signs of hatred that swim in the back of your eyelids, hidden in small twitches of your features, your almost tangibly cut off, throwing up your walls, shutting him out in more ways than one.

He had always worried about the gardens he was growing; flowers that sprung around him rapidly, fighting to figure out which one to water first, and all while your petals wilted and your roots curled up-

You waited

You watched as he bled himself dry. He shutters, everything bursting before his eyes—the love you once had for him flickering like the last flashes of a dying star. You're a million miles away, dancing on the craters of the moon, fluttering around the twinkling rings of Saturn. He folds himself deeper into the couch, almost hoping it will swallow him whole—pull him into the burning inferno beneath—even hell would be cooler than the fire that was your gaze.  Han Jisung never thought he'd see the day when the galaxy would collapse, but staring at you, flaring your final goodbyes, he realizes that doomsday was closer than he thought. 

"Baby," he whispers, his voice heavy with guilt, how easy it is to start a fire when you don't care about putting it out, but now that the wisps of flame consume you, he wishes he had never given you the kindling. 

You don't look at him as you walk around the kitchen, pouring a bowl of cereal. He stands up hesitantly, anguish feeling like an iron rod through his chest. He creeps into the kitchen, stepping lightly into the room like it's laced with landmines. 

"Please." His voice cracks—splits right down the middle, a perfect reflection of the cleave that was his soul. "I'm so sorry."

You place the cereal back in the cabinet and open the fridge to retrieve the milk.

The silence is deafening.

The all too familiar-

tick

tick

tick

of time trickling away rings in his ears

How much more of it does he have left?

How much more of this silence can he take?

You ignore him, strolling right past his trembling frame, racked with regret. It pulsates off his in palpable waves. You're so nonchalant so careless. He almost wants you to turn around and smack him, throw that stupid bowl of cereal in his face. Instead, you jog up the stairs, slamming the door behind you.

Is that the only door you shut?

Han had always thought of the apocalypse as an idea only found in novels, tucked away behind the pages of a book, hidden in the comfortable corner of science fiction, because that's all it was, right— fiction? But as your dead eyes scrape his figure up and down, he realizes that Doomsday wasn't really fiction at all. Just like the world wasn't always a place, sometimes the world was a person, and right now his world was ravaged by a deadly disease, an illness that only infected the soul, an illness only transferred through the careless bitter words found in the English language. Fire was nature's greatest purifier, and sure, the walls of the home he lived in weren't warped with flames of your fury, but the home he had made in your heart was 

It's been 3 days

3 days since he's felt the touch of another human. 

3 days since he made the biggest mistake of his lifetime.

3 days since he dropped a devasting bomb on your relationship, and the shrapnel was finally hitting him; curled pieces of cold metal lodged somewhere in between the folds of his soul. 

3 brutal bone-crushing days of pure ear-splitting silence—It was almost scientifically impossible, just how quiet you were. It was an art really, every brush of anguish accurately painted on—every ignored apology, every piercing glare, every single star that flickered out in your eyes. You were strategic, meticulous, you were plain vicious-

and you had every right to be.

You were fully justified in your actions, and yet he felt like he was still teetering over the edge of madness. The thought of losing you like a noose snaking around his neck, choking him in an unadulterated form of terror 

He has been stricken by anxiety his whole life, but the thought of a world without you filled him with an inexplicable amount of fear—the kind that burrows in your bones, decaying in your soul—the kind of terror that your still stuck digging from your skin for centuries to come—the kind of fear that makes you simply

panic.

His hands shake as he pushes the door open, feeling like he's walking into an open war. The pages of a dystopia form walls around him, caging him inside a bombarding capsule of storming English. 

The harsh contrast of the hurricane in his mind and the indifference in your eyes sends him reeling. You were lying on the couch, mindlessly flipping through the channels, not sparing him a glance.

You were so beautiful so breathtaking, but for once, he wasn't admiring your beauty.

He was

falling

apart. 

Oh, fuck, he was freaking out. 

He had finally caved under the pressure of always having to perform a false, flimsy smile, wobbling on his lips, pretending to be okay as he watched the life drain out of your eyes; the passion seeping from his songs.

He loved making music, but what is art without chaos?

What is beauty without love?

What is the world without you?

He always had to be perfect; he always had to be put together. He was always running on all cylinders, always hanging on by a fraying straining thread, and finally, it snapped. 

The earth is

t i l t i n g,

flipping around,

turning upside down, and

i n s i d e o u t.

Guilt rips through his chest, yanking out harsh bouts of oxygen from his constricting lungs. 

He can't breathe

He can't breathe

He can't breathe

He can't fucking

b

r

e

a

t

h

e

He was going to die-

He was going to collapse into himself, busting into a flaring supernova. 

He was going to be his own demise-

Forming his own doomsday-

He has never thought of himself as an author, but before he could stop his mouth from moving, he was already caged between the sentences of his own personal apocalypse, living a waking nightmare.

He created a story with his stupidity, and now he has to pay the price. 

He was the end of your relationship-

what has he done?

He can't b r e a t h e

"Y-Y/n I can't," he choked on his words, watching the walls wash away like watercolor dripping down the page. 

He can't lose you

He can't lose you

He can't lose you

He's going to die

He stumbles into the living room, tripping over his feet, his breath staggering in his throat. He catches himself on the arm of the couch, digging his nails into the soft leather, gripping it like it was his tether, keeping him from floating into space—burning up in the atmosphere, his body bouncing around the icy rocks. 

"Fuck," he gasps, squeezing his eyes shut and clawing at his chest, almost as if he scratches his skin hard enough, he can finally pull out the hourglass that keeps ticking his time away. His heart pounded wildly, almost begging to be free from the confines of his ribcage. The fact that it was still beating was beyond him. 

His heart only beats for you.

His heart will only ever beat for you.

How was he alive when you were drifting away? moon dust dancing in your lungs, would you become a ruler of the skies, while he was still stood still? 

"Han," your voice sounds like cotton candy kisses and honey dribbles. He never thought he would ever be so happy to hear somebody so alarmed, but right now that was the only thing keeping him from shattering. 

You jump up from the couch, your face pulled in concern. 

He doesn't deserve it

Doesn't deserve it

Doesn't deserve it

He's drowning in a pool of his self-inflicted sorrows. He's sinking, and the only thing that could save him was you. 

How do you save a man who won't take your hand?

"N-No, im okay," he barley pushes the words out, weaving between the thick lump that's forming in his throat. 

It was a lie

Everything was a lie

That's all he was

a liar

"Han," your voice is warm and inviting, sucking him in, wrapping around him like a blanket in the cold, a bowl of soup to a sick stomach. You healed him even when he was the one who created the wound. You pull him in, taking his trembling frame into your arms. Gentle fingers thread through his hair as soft lullabied wispers float through the air.

He feels so safe

So secure-

So loved-

He never thought he would feel the tenderness of your touch again, so when your comforting arms squeeze him right off the edge of destruction, 

He

c o l l a p s e s

crumbling into a million sobbing, sniveling pieces before you, he sinks to the ground, dragging you along with him. 

He always brought you down-

Always took you with him-

He was a disease-

An infection-

He was your armageddon

He sags against your body, limply moving like a rag doll. You let him curl into your chest, holding him like pieces of pierced punctuation. 

You guys were a shattered semicolon inverted and upside down. 

There was so much he wanted to say—so many apologies, so many explanations, so many different synonyms for sorry—but you didn't need them; you never needed them; you needed him, and there was nothing he could ever say that would change that. 

You hum, rubbing soothing circles on his back. You were always the perfect metaphor, a marveling form of pristine poetry. Your touch was like fleeting promises on the skin, the delicate tickle of a blooming flower, the comfortable heat of a burning star. You weren't just his world; you were his universe.

He pulls you closer to him, clinging like a desperate dying animal, nuzzling his face in your neck. 

"I'm so sorry, baby, I'm so fucking sorry!" He blubbers the sentences onto your skin, as though the deeper he burrows into your body, the faster they can travel to your heart. 

"Han," you lull, a small smile grazing your face, physically having to claw him off of you. He does begrudgingly, a minuscule whimper tumbling out of his throat from the lack of contact; he doesn't meet your eyes. He can't—not when the clock still ticks your time away, not when he's still not fully sure that you're willing to turn the hands back. 

He's devastated, his eyes red and puffy with tears that cascade down his cheeks, shining in the overhead light. 

"Please don't leave me." He sniffles, rubbing his nose against the fabric of his shirt, bottom lip trembling. "I don't want our time to run out. All my time is running out. Everything is running out. I can't, I-" he stutters, tripping over letters that latch onto his teeth like cactuses digging into his lips. 

You furrow your brows, tilting your head in sympathetic confusion. "What do you mean, baby?"

He screws his eyes shut, his hands shaking almost aggressively on his thighs. Why did he say anything? How does he explain something like that? He tries to form the words on his tongue, but they stick to the roof of his mouth like glue. Speaking it into the universe makes it so much more real, so much more raw, because now it isn't a metaphor, a fictional little whisper that fucks with his mind. 

The earth quivers in its orbit as he opens his mouth-

Was he really going to admit this?

Was he even ready to admit this?

"It feels like my life is running out," he stammers, the words tasting so sour on his tongue. "My life is so stressful; everybody always needs something from me, and sometimes it feels like I'm dishing out so many slivers of my soul that I don't even have any of it left." He lets out a shaky breath, attempting to get his heart rate somewhere that resembles normal. 

"I'm always up, always working, always doing something, and it's scary to think while I'm wasting my life working so hard doing something I don't really love." He aggressively wipes the tear that drops down his cheek with the palm of his hand. "It's so scary wondering if I'm ever making the right decisions." 

He feels so small under your gaze.

"A-And the other day was so hard," he cries, fresh waves of tears blurring his vision as he reminisces on the events. 

"Everybody was yelling at me, always needing something demanding so fucking much; they were playing puppet, forcing my hands in a way they didn't want to move; everybody was so just so needy-"

"And so was I," you whisper, filled with guilt. It breaks him. Your so understanding, so loving, so forgiving, so perfect. 

How did he even get you?

His heart wrenches as he dives into your arms-

"No, no, no, no," he shouts, shaking his head against your shirt. "No, love, you didn't do anything wrong; it was me. Me and my shitty mood—it was all my fault. I blew up at you. You were trying to be the amazing, loving girlfriend you are, and what I said was solely because of my fear. The exhaustion and anger didn't exactly help either"

"But there are no more buts," he pulls away, catching your eyes burning with sincerity. "There is no excuse for the way I treated you; there is no justification, just explanation."

You smile, tilting your head in adoration. You would be lying if you didn't say you were relieved, because you were.  You thought he believed the words he said—what feels like forever ago—that you were the annoying, needy girlfriend that only ever bugged him, but he didn't believe what he said. No, he was just a ticking time bomb waiting to blow—a ball of stressed and nervous energy channeled into the wrong source. 

"It's okay, Hannie, really, we're okay"

He was a supernova—a burning, bursting flame of bright, beautiful colors 

Han had once thought that the stars in your eyes had flickered away, but now he knows even the most enchanting things have to die before they can transform. 

He loves you.

He has loved you for 2 years and 363 days.

He will love you until the world goes up in flames. 

He will love you until the planet bleeds with the wounds of armageddon. 

"Does this mean we can still celebrate our 3-year anniversary?" He asks sheepishly, looking up at you through fluttering eyelashes. You perk up, visibly brightening. 

"You remembered!"

"I never forgot." he smiles, eyes shimmering with hope.

"I've been counting down the days," you grin.

"So have I," but he hasn't been counting down the days until you celebrate 3 beautiful years on this planet together. No, he's been counting down the days until his body slips into the grave, but as he presses his ear to your heart, it feels like the steady beats were a swelling symphony orchestrated just for him. He sighs contently, nuzzling deeper into your chest. The terrifying tick of the clock faded away, drowned out by the song of your soul whispering sweet promises into his ear. Sure, the fear still tickled the back of his brain, but instead of worrying that time was trickling away, he pulls you closer because with you, there was never a wasted moment. 

©CookieCreates (posted: July, 9th 2024) All rights reserved. Do not translate, copy, or claim my works as yours! I only post on this platform so if any of my works are elsewhere, report and notify me immediately

~cookie🍪

[r0-boat]

So... Netflix and chill with Wise 👉🏻👈🏻

Fucking hell yeah!

Are you still watching?

Zenless Zone Zero Wise x Gn!afab Reader.

Cw: rough!Wise, sex on the couch, smut.

You are pretty sure no one in the entire world uses 'Netflix and chill' seriously...

Except for Wise apparently

Wise_Ass💞: Wanna come over? And chill maybe watch some Netflix?

You squinted at your phone, the brain still booting up as you woke up from a beautiful more than 8 hours of sleep on a Saturday.

Your eyes skimmed over the text again. Wondering if their eyes were read that right. The words were switched, but 'Netflix and chill' usually doesn't mean just 'chilling.' But even then, it is more of a tongue-in-cheek term. A term that you don't take seriously, no matter how serious you are.

It was only natural you would brush something like this off; anyone would. Shooting him a text back, you picked out your clothes and headed into the bathroom to shower.

Wise had been so pent up... So. Pent. Up. He had been doing this year's taxes, and if you run and operate a business, doing the taxes is hell; he could let Fairy do it, but then Fairy would probably find some weird loophole, and that just sounded like more work down the line, as well as possible suspicion. He knew 100% that Belle would take twice as long, but only because 70% of it would involve procrastinating. So he would much rather be in charge of the finances and taxes.

Combined the fact that he just hasn't seen you in a while.

All he wanted to do was unwind and have you in his arms. And drill you into the couch pinning your body down folding you in half to fuck you raw and hard, feeling your wet pussy clinch to milk his aching cock. Wise doesn't like thinking about your body being anything more than a sex toy. Even now, instead of staring at the documentary he's probably watched a hundred times, he stares at you with hunger.

Now you were sitting right beside him in his room, the door locked. Pressing your side into him. Your body feels softer than usual, an arm wrapped around your neck and head sliding down your back, pulling you closer, his fingers idly playing with the hem of your shirt.

He has no idea why he feels so needy today, His heart is practically pounding in his chest as he tries to slowly initiate sex hoping you pick up on What he is trying to tell you before he loses his mind.

He is so relieved that you seem to be more invested In the documentary about animals because he is a rock fucking hard, and all he could think about is mounting you like one.

He was He is blunt honest and calm but when it comes to you especially sexually he can barely think.

His hand slides back to his side before placing it on your thigh His breath shaking As he watches you slightly spread your legs underneath his grip.

Fuck it.

You watch when Wise picks up the remote turning the volume up just in case if a nosy sister is here. He scoots away from you and before you could question him he picks up your legs on the couch before crawling on top of you. Instead of his gentle smile and a soft gaze of green.

Those same eyes staring to you the look of hunger you just noticed to eat you alive butterflies fluttered in your stomach as Wise's hand is already reaching underneath your pants. You thought you were used to Wise's subtle initiation. You've been with your boyfriend long enough to know his body language.

As the documentary still plays in the background which gets drowned out by his voice tickling your ear.

"Can I have you? Do you want this?"

From the way he looks at you to the straining you now feel in his pants his true intentions are more than clear. And very welcomed.

You wrap your arms around Wise as his lips meet yours. He missed those lips. Soft lips he could kiss for hours. But your lips will not be enough, as much as he loves his tongue in your mouth he wants to make sure every part of your face, neck, collar and chest gets attention from his mouth, from soft kisses, hungry licks and possessive hickeys. Wise had been doing this since the first time He had sex with you.

As his lips pepper your face before going down to your neck He sheds off your shirt before kissing further down.

Wise nuzzles his face against the crook of your neck taking in your lovely scent he'd missed so dearly. His warm wet tongue glides across your neck before suckling on the soft skin. He nips and sucks leaving a hickey in a quite visible spot he will probably regret later. Right now all he could think about was your chest in his mouth.

But before he could lean down too put one of your hard and nipples in his mouth you pull at his shirt. Wise realizes he was still fully clothed And he can't have that. He gives you a gentle smile kissing on the forehead before getting up off the couch you watch as he strips slowly lifting his shirt over his head before taking his pants his boxers with it. Usually your shy boyfriend leaves his boxers on until he's ready to slide inside you.

You don't mind this at all He's cute shy smile with his throbbing cock bobbing as he climbs back on top of you was a sight to behold. Wise slides off your bottoms and your underwear leaving you both naked as the day you were born. His cock was so close to your wet slit an occasionally Wise when his mouth was busy on your chest he would grind his shaft against your wet folds.

You want to reach out and touch him but he stops you His hand gently grabbing your wrist and firmly pinning them over your head.

"no touching." He smirks holding you down with one hand the other hand sliding it's fingers down your body before finding your pussy.

"But you're touching me That's not fair!" You whine which Wise only response "That's unfortunate."

His eyes were trained on you the entire time as his fingers went up and down before sinking inside. You are thankful that the volume drowned out the sound you just made, feeling is cold thick fingers fill your cunt. Wise knows exactly where to touch trying to go deep enough to curl his fingers into that spot. His eyes lit up his mouth tongue open watching you arch your back underneath him spurring him on to finger fuck you faster harder.

He has never heard such noises come from your pussy before. why didn't he ram knuckles deep into your cunt sooner? He kept sucking on your chest occasionally alternating between your nipple and your neck, he could feel you clenching around him.

"Are you close? Come on baby, You can do it, squeeze my fingers and cum. Come on, you deserve to feel good. I want you to feel good."

Again you think the documentary still playing in the background as you moan Wise's name as you trench his fingers. Fingering you through your orgasm And when you finally come down from your high you watch as Wise uses your juices to coat his cock His fingers and hands sliding up and down the thick veiny shaft.

His breath is shaky as he touches himself, giving himself a few more pumps before lining it up.

"I need more I'm sorry I don't think I can be gentle please let me know if I hurt you." He kisses you on the forehead finally letting go of your wrists he grabbed your legs putting them over his shoulders.

Mating press. Something he can only hear of so animalistic, raw, and filthy. But that's how he wants to take you. That's how he has been craving to take you.

Wise's mouth is hung open, his chest heaving sinking himself inside.

He clenches his teeth letting out of his and a grown, You already arch your back clamping down on him as he struggles to move deeper inside.

Wise wants to be rough but he is not a monster He lets you adjust to his size, before he starts moving. He stays fully inside you for a few minutes again peppering your face with kisses before asking if he could move. And when you nod he clenches his teeth His fingers digging into your thigh he slowly pulls out before.

Slamming back inside you You let out a surprise shriek when she places his hand over your mouth. At that point Wise is gone seeing his own hand over your mouth keep fully leans his body into yours slamming down again and again. You are grateful for him covering your mouth because you cannot stop your noises.

And apparently, Wise can't either, usually, during sex, he's breathy, but this time, as he ravages your body, he growls and moans like an animal in rut as he plunges into you over and over again. Hitting that deep spot inside you that had you cumming on his cock.

Wise's eyes roll back in pleasure feeling your cunt squeeze him for all his worth. Pounding into you with reckless abandon chasing his orgasm.

Wise sinks his teeth into your shoulder stealing his hips inside of you with one final slam he fills you up to the brim. Wise collapses onto you wrapping his arms around you giving you another dose of sweet kisses whispering Sweet nothings of how much he loves you and missed you.

Wise Not wanting you to fall asleep on the couch picks you up into his arms He smiles down at you when you yawn.

He puts you in his bed and joins you. Is neatly folded sheets and blanket now tossed over to fit the both of you. The smell of him and the fresh smell of his laundry lull you to sleep, snuggling into his chest. Wise smiles, welcoming you into his arms.

The documentary was still playing, but neither of you cared. It was just background noise for you to fall asleep, too.

[kaylopolis]

Alastor's Shadow (18+) Chapter Two

Alastor x F!Reader, Alias: Thestral

Synopsis: There’s a new Overlord in town and it isn’t the Radio Demon. Six years after you fell into Hell, you have finally earned your seat at the table as Pentagram City’s newest and baddest and with the Extermination coming six months sooner than planned, it is now time to implement your ultimate endgame. Afterall, who doesn’t love a bit of power and chaos? Your plans brings you to the doorstep of the Hazbin Hotel as Charlie’s newest Redeemer, but who you find waiting for you will not only turn your entire plan upside down, but also challenge your grab for power… 

Tags: Slow burn, rivals to lovers, eventual smut 

Link to Masterlist: Masterlist

Chapter Two - Breakfast

Content Warning: None (Let me know if I missed any!)

“Coffee anyone?” You call out to the foyer as your feet hit the carpet. 

It was early and you had a lot to do today, but there was always time for coffee. Besides, you spent half the night tossing and turning before finally winding down into a few hours of sleep. You were exhausted - not just from the night’s meeting, but the silence of the Hotel was deafening. You usually slept to music, but the record player in your old room didn’t belong to you and so you couldn’t take it when you left. 

Angel sat before the old television, Husk standing at his side, his arms crossed before him. Angel lay sprawling across the sofa, dark circles under his eyes. With the type of jobs these two had, you were surprised to see them up so early. 

“… isn’t that right Tom?” You recognized Katie Killjoy’s voice echo from the television. 

666 News this early in the morning? You joined the cat and spider in the alcove. 

“That’s right Katie! Another pile of ashes was discovered in the alley of the Pride Ring this morning as the Shadow has claimed yet another victim! The remains have been identified as Chazwick Thurman, a known member of the Crimson Mafia...” 

“Too bad they weren’t your ashes, aye Tom…” 

You drowned out the voices of the broadcasters as images of an alleyway in the Entertainment district flash across the screen. The only thing left behind was a bone-shaped belt buckle and a pile of grey. 

“Crimson was invited to comment.” 

You stiffen.

The screen cut to a cameraman chasing Crimson into a car. “Get that fucking camera out of my fucking face!” He slams the car door and the screen cuts back to the reporters. 

Goddamn that almost gave you a heart attack…

“How do yous think they identify ‘em?” Angel motioned to the screen, now turned back to Chaz’s ash’s blowing away in the breeze. “All I see is a bunch o’ dirt.” 

“Something Gluttony whipped up I heard,” Husk grumbles. He looks just as exhausted as Angel. 

“What would Beelzebub want to do with a bunch o’ murders?” Angel argued. 

“Don’t look at me, those are just the rumors!” 

“I heard it was a new Voxtek technology,” you chime in. “They have some sort of electronic scanner that can detect soul signatures.” 

You were right, of course, but they didn’t know that. 

“But he was a Hellborn Native? Do they even have souls? And what was he doing in the Pride Ring anyway?” Angel argued. 

You shrugged, “Like Husk said… Only rumors.” 

“Seems a little shady if you ask me.” Husk rubs the scruff forming on his chin. “That’s the first Hell Native to have been slain by the Shadow. So far he’s only gone after Sinners. Why change now?” 

You weren’t interested in playing conspiracy theorist today. Too much to do. Instead you decided to shift the conversation, “Coffee?” 

Angel and Husk look to you. 

“It’s the only reason we got up,” Angel answered. “Heard ya’ had a busy morning and didn’t wanna miss ya’.” 

The sentiment made your face turn pink. Day two and already you felt some sort of connection forming with the two of them. 

You followed them into the kitchen, but froze on the threshold as the sound of soft jazz hit your ears and a jolt of static ran down your spine. There, standing in a frilly apron tied at the waist, serving spoon in hand, was the red demon Alastor. He didn’t look up as he scooped the remaining eggs into the white dish set on the table. 

“Good morning fellow Sinners!” The demon sung. Husk and Angel grumbled in response. Not morning people. So, the maniacal demon has a domestic side? What a weird change of pace after literally beating the shit out of someone yesterday and then turning around and pissing off an Overlord. 

“Morning, Mr. Alastor,” you mumbled, trying to match his cheerfulness but frankly, you hadn’t had coffee yet and didn’t enjoy talking to anyone before your first steaming cup. 

Finally his eyes landed on you, the soft jazz music coming to a small and almost imperceptible skip you would have missed had you not been listening for it. This man gives away so much in his audio alone. 

Half-lidded, his eyes dragged over you, from the Mary Jane heels - short as can be, you couldn’t handle anything over an inch - to the red puffy dress that hugged your sides and expanded into layers of black landing just above your knees. The dress was long sleeved, with black lace running across your back, hiding your tattoo perfectly. It came with a matching metal red clip for your hair. 

Normally you hated wearing dresses, hated looking girly, but etiquette called for it this morning. You’d be far more comfortable in a pair of trousers and button up collared shirt. 

You waited as the invisible radio clicked through a few stations before returning to a soft jazz. “Well, well, look what the spider and cat dragged in. And where is our fine hotel guest off to today?” He returned the pan to the stove before untying the apron at his waist. 

Okay, he was acting cordial. So maybe that meant whatever happened yesterday on the cobblestone streets wasn’t him? Or maybe he hadn’t realized it was you who did it? Either way, there was a question mark next to whatever power slapped the shit out of you yesterday - “proceed with caution,” the sticky note next to it read. 

“I have a breakfast date…” You start but Angel’s whistling interrupts you. 

“Ow! Oooow!” He called, “And who is the lucky Sinner bestowed with the honor of taking your fine ass out today?” 

Your cheeks couldn’t get any redder. “My old land lady?” You curled into yourself, feeling eyes on your skin, resisting the urge to rub the back of your neck. 

“Oh, you like ‘em mature, don’t ya’?” Angel purred. It made you laugh, breaking some of the tension. 

“Now, now Angel Dust, one musn’t speak such profanities to a young lady before she’s had her breakfast.” Alastor settled into his chair. Snapping his fingers for a newspaper, he disappeared behind the black and white text. The air around you grew a little colder with his closeness, like the heat was being absorbed by the red demon himself.

“Hey, I didn’t mean anything by it.” Angel shrugged, spooning piles of egg onto his plate. “Hair clip knows I’m good for it.” 

“Same thing as yesterday, Husk?” You ask sheepishly, making your way to the Breville in the corner. The coldness wrapped around your legs, as if it was following you across the kitchen.

“That would be great, kiddo,” he rubbed his temples, his chin resting on the table top. Hangover? 

You felt the bubbles in your chest die down as you got to work, filling the portafilter with beans and finding a white espresso cup in the cupboard. 

“Angel?” You called over your shoulder. You feigned a small kick at the air around your ankles, wishing for whatever invisible coldness to leave you alone. It didn’t. 

“A vanilla soy latte if ya’ could be so kind, sweet cheeks,” he asked, mouthful of food. You heard the door swing open as Charlie, Vaggie, and Nifty’s voices filled the air. 

I thought the tiny maid normally cooked the meals? 

Rummaging through the cupboards you couldn’t find any syrups for his request - only a chai tea blend. You apologized but made a mental note to pick up some supplies today. 

Passing him his soy latte - complete with a spider on top - you got to work on everyone else’s orders before finally turning to Alastor. 

Your palms instantly started to sweat. What was it about this demon that made you so nervous? 

“Can I get you anything Mr. Alastor?” Was your voice shaky? Did you seem nervous?

The top part of the newspaper folded down to reveal his face. His smile was strained despite the sweet jazz playing over his radio. His radio? Was that correct? 

“Alastor’, darling, and a hot cup of joe would be wonderful,” his eyes lingered on you a little too long before you finally nodded. 

Swallowing, you turned back to the Breville and began grinding the beans. You debated making a second cup for yourself, you did still have thirty minutes before you needed to go, but didn’t necessarily wanna smudge your red lipstick before you left. It’ll give you something for your hands to do, to calm the nerves that is, and to warm your bones - the coldness eliciting goosebumps across your legs. 

Making two cups of coffee, one in Alastor’s “Oh, Deer!” mug - which made you chuckle - you paused, an idea forming in your mind. You didn’t have many ingredients to work with, but you did have one thing. Opening the chai you took a sniff - fresh. You had a feeling, and it was a risk, but you decided to jump off that cliff anyway. Using a strainer you let a few leaves steep in his cup, before swirling it around and straining it out. 

Dropping the mug before him, you finally noticed the extra chair that had been added to the table - right next to him. When did that get there? Nifty sat to your right with Angel right across from you. You tried to catch Angel’s attention, to thank him for adding the extra seat, but he didn’t notice you as he was too busy licking the foam from his lips while sending Husk a sexual retort. Meanwhile, Nifty was stabbing away at her plate, too busy to notice your sudden hesitation.

Was it because of Alastor? 

Your mind flits back to the radio broadcast last night and Alastor’s grand display?-battle?-sing a-long?-with the media demon Vox. Seems he had a chance to go big at one point but never really made it. You wondered what happened? 

“I don’t bite, darling,” Alastor snapped and his newspaper disappeared. He leaned back in his chair, crossing his knees before taking a sip of his mug. His eyes lit up, his smile curling at the edge. You held your breath as you waited for his reaction. 

“Please, take a seat,” the chair before you slid back without a touch, a puddle of shadow beneath it shifting ever so slightly. 

He took another sip, his shoulders dropping an inch. You took that as a sign that he enjoyed your coffee concoction and wasn’t going to rip your head off for changing his request. 

Rejoining the table, you swore the air around your legs warmed slightly. 

“Hey, Hair clip, I gotta know something,” Angel chimed across the table, his belly finally full. “What’s a sweet lil’ thing like you gotta do to get yourself down ‘ere?” 

“Angel!” Charlie protested. 

“Wha’? Come on we was all thinkin’ it.” He crossed his many arms. 

“You don’t have to answer that,” Charlie’s eyes twinkled. 

“Uhm, no it’s okay,” your hands clench and unclench around the mug, letting the heat soothe your fingers, resisting the urge to rub your neck. “I had the unfortunate circumstances of finding myself at the center of a web of…” you searched for the right word, “disappearances.” Your lips curled into a smile you couldn’t help but form. You tried to hide it by siping your cup. 

Lying was all too easy these days. 

“Oh, shit.” Angel jumped in his seat. 

“Wait, are you telling us you killed people?” Husk breathes. 

“Stab, stab, stab,” Nifty drove her knife into her toast over and over. Vaggie reached over and carefully pulled the needle from her fingers. 

How much do you reveal about this backstory now? If you reveal too much it’ll appear as if you have nothing to hide, but chatty Sinners were suspicious Sinners. Give them just a nugget to chew on for now. 

“Technically, the cases were never solved. While I was alive anyway…” You mumbled into your cup, conscious of your lipstick on the rim. 

Not denial but not confirmation, either. 

“So, you didn’t kill people?” Husk clarifies. 

“I didn’t say that…” You mumble into the steam.

The beans aren’t bad, but the undercut of chocolate wasn’t your favorite. Add that to the shopping list for today. 

So much to do before tomorrow… 

“So, then you did?” Angel asks. 

You didn’t answer. This conversation was going in circles. 

“Might we have heard of you and your endeavors topside, Ms. Thestral?” Alastor’s forearms were suddenly on the table, his presence leaning into you. 

You felt something slip past your ankles, like a small breeze. You crossed your legs instinctively. 

There’s power in a name down here in Hell. Knowing who people were before gives others leverage, gives them blackmail to use against another. They could threaten your family still alive up top. They could use it to find others who have died but knew you from before for information. The possibilities are endless. 

Alastor knows this. It’s an unspoken rule. It’s why Angel goes by Angel or Husk goes by Husk. He knows you’d never give any exact details leading to who you were and what you did, so he’s decided to toy with you. Much like Sir Pentious from yesterday. 

Let him eat his own medicine then.

“Might we have heard of you and yours, Mr. Alastor?” You leaned into him, your gaze never wavering from his face. A fleeting flash of amusement so swift had you blinked you would have missed it. 

The air was sucked out of the room in one collective gasp as the Hotel Natives waited for his response. 

Geez, were they all afraid of this guy or…? You’d hate to see what they’d do in the presence of an Overlord. 

He tipped his head back and laughed. “I believe you and I are going to get along quite well, darling.” With a snap of his fingers the newspaper reappears, his face disappearing before you got a chance to study it.

The tension in the room drops as everyone lets out their breath. 

You were really going to have to figure out what you were going to do with this Alastor fellow. Perhaps your little outing today would shed light on the subject. 

BANG! BANG! BANG! 

Vaggie is up and out of her seat before you have a chance to register what’s going on. More bangs - coming from the front door. Someone was knocking? Next thing you know, everyone is up and out of their seats and in the foyer - except for Alastor, who decides to take his time. 

Throwing open the door, Vaggie comes face to face with Sir Pentious. “Hello, my dear… Ah!” 

Vaggie plants a facer right into his nose before pulling her spear from the Void. The snake demon collapses at her feet, begging for mercy. 

“Oh, hello again!” Charlie has inserted herself into the situation. This ought to be interesting. You had to admit, you’ve taken some pretty boring jobs before, but the people here were so fun to watch, it made the slow progress worth it. 

Sir Pentious mentions something about redemption, which is exactly the thing to say to the Princess Morningstar. The next thing you know she’s practically dragging him inside.

Angel jumps in to point out the obvious but Vaggie eventually crumbles under Charlie’s begging. 

The gears in your mind turn as they talk, the Princess showing him the foyer, noting how convenient this turn of events just so happened to be. 

Sir Pentious did not just come here on accident - especially after yesterday. Maybe another plan of attack on Alastor? He did catch the red demon off guard, perhaps he was trying again with the same “element of surprise” tactic. 

Regardless, Charlie was dotting on the poor demon like he was a small child in need of shepherding. Was she clueless to the situation or just a bleeding heart hopeful?   

Either way, the mosquito has returned. 

From the corner of your eye, you catch Angel’s mood change. From general intrigue to irritation and… was that guilt you were smelling as Charlie showed the snake about? No - self-loathing. They always smelled so similar, it was easy to get the two confused. 

Great now Nifty is fawning over the serpent. The tiny demon is a fucked up enigma that you had no intention of figuring out.

“This is Thestral. Our most recent guest!” Charlie escorts him before you. You shake the snake demon’s hand - gross, he’s slimy. 

Static fills your ears, making your hair stand on end as you shake the demon’s hand.

“And over here is… Oh! Uh, Alastor!” Charlie squeaks. “Our gracious facility manager! You’ve met our newest guest, Sir Pentious… Hehe…” 

You feel Alastor’s eyes on the back of your head before he turns to the snake demon. The serpent cowered before the well-dressed Joe, the room filling with the scent of oranges and mint: fear. 

“Ah, yes! You’re the one who ruined my coat!” The demon’s eyes begin to glow, their eerie red light impregnating the room with their aura. “I definitely remember you now.” 

Was that irritation you sensed? You watched his shoulders as the snake demon attempted to apologize, noting their stiffness despite his relaxed demeanor in the kitchen. 

This guy had a lot of pent up aggression. He carried himself like a clogged overflowing sink someone left the plug in too long. The interaction yesterday with the Vees did nothing to quell his attitude despite the flux he sent the media demon into. The entire grid shut down after you joined Husk at the bar - cellphones, televisions, electricity. It was a blackout for a few hours before his system finally reset. Guess Vox has more of a hold on Pentagram City than you knew. 

Sir Pentious hands Alastor the small piece of fabric he ripped from him yesterday. 

“Ah-Ho!” The Radio Demon sings. “Not many people have been able to take even this much off me, it must have meant quite a lot to you.” 

You snort into your hand, catching a side glance from the Radio Demon. 

The fabric spontaneously combusts into green flame. 

What!? He has access to Hellfire? You try to not let the shock show on your face but he catches it regardless. 

The clock chimes 8 on the wall.

Shit, you were going to be late! 

Shoving your hands into the pockets sewn into the dress, you double check that you did indeed grab your wallet before heading for the door. “I’m sorry Charlie, but I have to go now!” 

“Oh, yes! Don’t forget, one o’clock!” She waves after you. 

The cold sensation slips from your ankles, making you shutter as you head for the front, but before you have a chance to pull the door open, Husk steps into your path. “Hey, kid,” he whispers, looking over your shoulder at something. “Stop by the bar later, wouldya?” 

His tone was far more serious than one would expect for a casual hangout invitation. 

“Sure, Husk,” you nod, worried that something was wrong. 

“Stay safe out there,” he pats your shoulder before heading back to the bar, his eyes downcast as he passes the red demon and Princess now entranced in their own conversation. 

You swear you see Alastor’s shadow move, like it was waving goodbye…

Anyway… That was… weird, but good! Making progress with Husk and an opportunity to hear some gossip from the grumpy bartender. 

You headed out into the cobblestone streets with a new pep in your step and a smile on your face. 

____________________________________

“Thanks, Susan,” you smiled at the potted daisy in your hand. It was half dead but so was she. 

“Of course, sweetheart,” she pinched your cheeks as she screamed. She was deaf, everything she said was in a scream. 

“I’ll see you next week!” You smiled, slowly inching away. “With the lemon finger sandwiches this time!” 

She laughs as you parted ways, flipping her boa over her shoulder as she shuffled. 

You loved the lady, she gave you a room when you had nowhere else to go. After you moved out you thought it would be the end of breakfasts with the old crazy lady, but she begged for tea and snacks once a week in the park. She was lonely - even though she was to blame for her loneliness. She did eat her third husband and all… So, you bought her breakfast and tea once a week. It was the least you could do after everything she has done for you. 

You rounded the Plaza and headed for the doors of Rosie’s Emporium but your stride came to a crashing halt as static filled your ears. 

“Don’t be a stranger, Alastor!” Rosie’s voice carried to the front of the store. 

Fuck! 

Flattening against the other half of the double doors, and hiding your face against the wall, you prayed he would walk right past you and not notice your anxiety-riddled form in the doorway. But, alas, you were never that lucky.

“I wouldn’t dream of it… Oh!” The Radio Demon stopped half stride out the door, his eyes immediately finding yours. The edges of his lips curled far past what you thought possible for his face. His radio faltered just a moment before he addressed you. “Why, hello there.” 

Red bloomed across your cheeks as you came face to face with him. He tipped an eyebrow up, unleashing a flurry of butterflies in your stomach.

You searched for something to say but words seemed just out of reach. 

What was wrong with you! Why did this demon have so much sway over your emotions! Get yourself together. Why…

Rosie cleared her throat, causing you to jump. She was quiet when she was being sneaky. “And what do we have here?” Her charming New York accent was doing nothing to qualm the nerves in your belly. 

“Thestral, this is Rosie. The most darling, delightful, and dangerous Overlord this side of the Pentagram!” Trumpets echoed through his radio. 

You tried hard not to roll your eyes.

“Oh! Always a charmer,” Rosie smiled wide, her razor sharp teeth on display.

“And Rosie,” his arm wraps around your lower back, pushing you closer to the man-eating Overlord. That cold sensation wraps around your legs again, making you shiver. “It’s my pleasure to introduce you to…”

“Actually,” you interrupt, trying to keep the bite from your voice. Stepping out of Alastor’s grip, the cold follows you. What made him think he could just touch you like that!? “We’ve met.” 

A flash of irritation crosses Alastor’s eyes before being replaced with his mask.

“Oh! What a regal surprise!” Rosie drags you inside, taking the dead potted plant from you. “You’re early!” She goes for a tray of fingers. “Can I offer you something to eat?” 

“I just ate actually,” an uncomfortable laugh escapes your lips. 

You didn’t detest cannibalism - I mean, who doesn’t enjoy a good shoulder steak? - it was the way Alastor was looking at you that was setting those butterflies in a flurry. It was a look of… suspicion? You sniffed, but smelled nothing. Hmm, interesting.

“You two know each other?” Alastor twirled his cane, clutching it behind his back. His smile was strained. 

Shit.

“Oh, Thestral and I go way back!” She spun, placing the finger food aside before clamping both her hands atop your shoulders. You were trapped. “Practically fell on top of me when she died!” 

Alastor’s eyes light up with the addition of the new information. “Did she now?” 

You stop him from asking anymore questions with an awkward laugh. “Rosie, don’t you have to take my measurements?” 

“Oh, my stars! You’re here for a dress!” Her eyes sparkle. Cupping your cheeks, she pulls your face to hers. “Finally! This one was getting a little old,” she thumbs a hole in your sleeve you were desperately trying to hide. You frown. 

You didn’t have money to burn often, but when you did you let Rosie dress you up as she pleased. She never wanted money from you, in fact she hated that you offered, but it didn’t feel right to just take her creations without giving her something in return. 

“Oh, don’t fret, doll! You’re still a tomato! Don’t you think so, Alastor?” She pinched your cheeks, turning your face to the red demon in his newly fashioned pin-striped suit.

You met his eyes, he was clearly loving the embarrassment Rosie was showering you with. 

“As cute as a bug’s ear,” he smiled, his eyebrows relaxing in amusement. 

God, did this man do anything other than fucking smile? 

Your face reddened under his direct gaze, its burn bleeding into the cold of Rosie’s fingers. You didn’t like being dotted on and you sure as Hell didn’t like being showed off like this. 

Wait… what did he say? Did he call you cute? The Radio Demon called you cute. 

“Oh!” Rosie finally releases you. You rub your cheeks to lessen the sting from her pinches. “Ya-know, Alastor. I got a premo-connect on a guy with about eight blocks of territory and not enough goons to run it. Prime pickin’s for a deal to be made, my friend!” 

A deal? Rosie didn’t just throw people a bone out of pity. She didn’t freely offer up anything to anyone unless she respected them. Rosie - the Rosie - respected… him? The Radio Demon was turning out to be a bigger fish than expected. Still, he remained a mystery. God it was irritating. 

“I appreciate the offer, but I must be off. So much to do at the Hotel!” He sung, his radio clicking on a smooth jazz. He picked at invisible lint on his shoulder before his half-lidded eyes met yours. “I‘ll see you this afternoon, darling.” His voice purred, sending butterflies in a flurry within you. With a small bow he slipped out the front door and into Cannibal Plaza taking your breath with him.

You spun as the door shut, swearing you saw a… shadow follow him? 

Fuck, you needed to figure this guy out fast, but that was why you were here wasn’t it? Rosie knew all the best gossip in Pentagram City, she was the ideal source to go to for information on Alastor without raising suspicion at the Hotel. Couldn’t let any of the Natives think you too interested in the Radio Demon. 

“You’re late.”

You spun to face Rosie, a hand on her hip, one eyebrow sky high in suspicion. 

Shaking off the conflicting emotions stirring within you, you met her energy, crossing your arms in front of your chest. “It appears you were entertained in my absence.” 

“Don’t start with the attitude, young lady.” She waved a finger at you as she led you into the parlor. 

A set of tea was waiting, half drunk and already cold - tea which was supposed to be for you had you been on time. 

“Susan was extra talkative this morning,” you huffed, taking the chair across from her usual spot. “Seems she missed me.”

The Overlord began tidying up the tray, but as you watched her collect the cups, you couldn’t help but wonder something. “Was that planned?” You huffed.

She gave you a look as if you had asked a stupid question. 

“Why?” You grommeled, shrinking into the chair.

“Posture!” She waved her finger at you. You rolled your eyes but obeyed. “It appears Alastor is back from his sabbatical - which I was only made aware of yesterday when he came in here with a torn suit. I asked you here to create a pho-run-in with the Overlord so that you might be aware of his presence, considering the events of tomorrow.” She placed the tray on the side counter. 

“Wait…” Your ears perked up. Did you hear her correctly? You swallowed hard. 

“I didn’t get a chance to learn of his endeavors with the Hotel until this morning. He made quite a stir yesterday, and when Alastor is in a bad mood you tend to keep conversation short.” She snapped her fingers and a new tray appeared - tea steaming and ready to be served. 

Every nerve in your body was screaming at you. “Rosie, did you…” 

“Now, come to find my surprise when I learned that he had not just already met you, but already had suspicions of your power. He asked questions, Thestral, questions about you, and I…”

“Oh my God, Rosie!” You jumped to your feet, arms clenched at your sides. 

“What has gotten into you?” She stopped mid pour, a hand feigning surprise on her chest. 

“Did you just say that Alastor is an Overlord?” Your heart was beating at a million miles an hour now. 

Taking a breath, the woman who had become like a mother to you finished pouring your cup before she set the tea kettle back onto the tray. She took her cup and plate in hand before finally answering your question. “Yes.” 

You stopped breathing completely. “Fuck,” you mumbled before slowly melting back into the chair. 

Oh my God, how could you be so stupid! Of course the Radio Demon was more powerful than you could ever have imagined. Of course the Radio Demon was an Overlord. Of course an OVERLORD had to be the Hotel manager. Of course an OVERLORD had to sleep across the hall from you! All the planning you put together, all the research, all the preparation and now you had to deal with this! 

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that,” Rosie sipped her tea - jasmine, your favorite. 

Alastor had beef with the Vees. He pissed off Vox to the point that it overloaded his circuits and shut the entire grid down. No wonder you didn’t see him in the commercial. What Overlord would want one of his biggest enemies being able to capture him using his greatest asset of surveillance - a camera. 

Sir Pentious came to challenge Alastor your very first day at the Hotel because he had heard that Alastor was back! Which meant the Hotel was now a target! Which made you a target! Alastor’s mere presence was attracting attention - attention you didn’t want and would inevitably get in the way of your plans! 

You had always been a behind the scenes type of person. Operating behind a mask was your specialty. Merely shedding the cloak was filling you to the brim with anxiety and now you had to deal with this! 

No! No! No! No! 

“Thestral you’re burning my couch,” Rosie scolded. 

Looking down, blue flames licked the seat’s plush arm rest. Silently cursing, you pulled the power back in and suffocated it, leaving behind a bit of blackened fabric.

“This is going to be a problem,” you spat through gritted teeth.

Now you knew why everyone was so afraid of him. 

“Why are you so surprised? I thought you knew by the way you were acting when you ran into him in my parlour. Actually, now that I think about it, you looked more smitten than… Huh!” Rosie gasped, her teeth growing into a smile. “Are you sweet on him?” 

Your jaw dropped. “What? No!” 

That was completely illogical! You, sweet on an Overlord!? Preposterous! 

“My dear, you’re blushing!” She practically sang. 

Your hands flew to your cheeks so fast you almost slapped yourself. “Just… What… I… Are you going to take my measurements or not?” 

Rosie laughed before pulling out a measuring tape. “Oh, I am going to dress you to the nines, tomato!” She gave you a knowing smile as she shepherded you to the block before a set of mirrors. 

“Rosie, I do not like the Radio Demon. If anything he poses a problem. A really big problem.” You stepped onto the block as she circled you like a vulture. 

“I am pulling out all the stops for you! Two new dresses, maybe a couple pair of those trousers you adore so much, and definitely a few ideas for a night out on the town. Just in case.” She winks at you in the mirror. “And new shoes too! Those little heels are done for.” 

“Rosie… Just..” You sank your face in your hands. 

She stopped immediately. “What’s wrong, darling? Talk to Auntie Rosie.” 

Running your hands through your hair, you took a deep breath, releasing as much anxiety as you could with it. 

Things were a lot easier when you operated in the shadows. 

You faked a small smile before pulling the money clip from your pocket, trying to turn the conversation to something you could handle. “At least let me pay you this time.” 

Rosie’s face turned into one of determination and pride. “You got it back from Crim, didn’t ya’?” 

You pulled your other hand from your pocket to reveal the black calling card. “Indeed I did.” 

_______________________________________

You took your time heading to the Entertainment District, letting Rosie’s words simmer within your brain. 

The Radio Demon was an Overlord and a mysterious one at that. He disappeared seven years ago, only to magically reappear recently under the guise of Charlie’s Hotel Manager. 

Funny how Lilith also disappeared seven years ago. Funny how this Extermination just so happens to be a special one. 

But before Alastor took his paid time off, it seems he was quite the shit around here. That at least explains the radio broadcasts: the incessant screaming of souls Alastor plays at whim. You had to admire that part. The man had class, he had art, he had theatrics. You just killed and walked away, not wanting the media spotlight, but Alastor? He thrived off of it. He was a walking entertainment broadcast dependent upon the attention of others. 

God, and his ego? You didn’t even want to start down that road. No wonder he got so pissy when you didn’t cower before him like thousands of others do. Fuck, the only one not afraid of him is Princess Morningstar - not because she considers herself more powerful than him but because she is naive. Alastor would kill her in a heartbeat if it meant accomplishing his goals.

Speaking of, what were his goals? Surely he didn’t wish to climb the ladder of hotel management. Alastor wasn’t an assistant type of guy. He had to be the boss. So whatever plan he has, playing make believe with the Princess has put him in a superior position despite what it appears. 

Was that it then? Was taking down Charlie his endgame? But why? Charlie doesn’t rule, she doesn’t utilize her power, she doesn’t do anything. She just kind of hangs out with Vaggie and cleans up chemical spills and hugs trees and shit. She wasn’t someone all powerful to target and take down - not like Lilith. 

Wait. Fuck. Lilith.

That’s what this is about. He disappeared seven years ago with Lilith and he’s back now because of Lilith. 

So get to Charlie to get to Lilith, but what does Alastor want with Lilith?  

So entranced in thought you finally realized you were heading in the complete wrong direction and had stumbled into a part of town you had never been. 

A window of television screens suddenly shifts to a bright yellow light. “Voxtech Angelic Security coming soon!” The ad chimes along with the new Voxtech logo sprouting a pair of wings. 

That was going to prove a problem for your late night activities. Not that anyone has ever really been able to capture you on camera before. You're a mass of black smoke when you fly and a dark hooded figure with glowing yellow eyes when you weren’t. Hell, the entirety of Pentagram City thought you were a dude. A little sexist but whatever… 

“Fuck,” you mumbled under your breath before turning down an alley you were hoping was a short cut. 

“That fucking, fuck!” Vox comes flying out of a side door, trying desperately to tie his bow tie which has now become a knot around his neck. 

You would have hid, you would have turned around and ran the moment you saw him, had he not run right into you. 

Vox’s back slams into your shoulder, knocking you to the ground. The media demon turns on you, his one eye glowing red, a look of pure wrath flashing across his screen. 

“Watch it!” He bites.

You give him an exasperated look before climbing to your feet. Great, now this dress is truly ruined! Your right hip is covered in black dirt, and there’s a tear along the hem. Rosie is going to kill you. 

“You ran into me,” you brush your skirt. You didn’t snap at him, you simply stated the truth. 

The demon is taken aback. How dare you speak to him like that! Did you not know who he is? 

“You want to repeat that again you, little…” He stops mid sentence, his attention drawn to the hand you were extending him. “What are you doing?” 

You gesture to the bow tie, nonchalantly, “I had a lot of brothers growing up. I got good at tying ties and bow ties and you look like you could use some help.” You nod to his left thumb, thoroughly stuck in the knot. 

He raises an eyebrow in confusion, staring at you as if you had just sprouted a second head. When he doesn’t respond, you roll your eyes and begin unraveling the silk around his neck. The demon stiffens beneath your touch, freezing in place. You could feel his eyes boring into the top of your head as you worked. 

It was a simple red bow tie, the slipperiness of the fabric made it difficult to get the ends even, but a few twists and you had it back to normal. You even closed the distance, folding the band around his neck beneath the collar of his shirt. 

He doesn’t have that aura of static like Alastor does nor that sense of coldness which hangs about his shadow. Really you expected more similarities between the two, given that they were practically each other’s counterparts. But here, now, you didn’t get the same feelings being around Vox like you did the Radio Demon. Actually it was lack thereof. 

It was probably just Vox’s lack of power. Really and truthfully you meant it when you said Vox is only ⅓ of an Overlord. Without the other Vees, he isn’t a threat. Alastor? That man was full power in only one suit. 

Wait… why were you so focused on comparing him to Alastor right now? 

“There,” you slapped your hands against your thighs. “Ta-da!” You gave him a show of jazz hands before continuing down the alleyway. A shiver runs down your spine as you could feel his gaze still on your form. God, he’s such a creep.

“Hey! Wait!” The media demon calls after you. 

You roll your eyes before spinning, cursing under your breath. 

The look on Vox’s face made you pause. Was that…? You sniffed. Curiosity? No, that wasn’t quite right. You sniffed again, not able to place the emotion. You’ve never really smelled anything like it before. 

The demon clears his throat, suddenly self conscious. “Can I at least offer you a ride to wherever you’re going… as a thank you?” He crosses his arms in front of him, taking a few slow steps in your direction. 

Fuck that. The last thing you wanted was Vox to know anything about you. Anything at all. 

“No, thanks,” you spin again and…

“Can I at least know your name?” He tries again.

Ugh! 

“Why?” You bite, your hands finding your hips. 

The demon looks confused before his screen flashes back to a neutral face. He smiles and it’s far softer than you expected, “I just want to know the name of my savior.” He chuckles. “I got a little mixed up back there and am grateful for your services in fixing the situation.” 

Okay… You’ve never actually seen Vox be nice before. This was weird. 

Your eyes trail his form from his shoes to the broken antenna atop his head. You’ve never actually seen the media demon in person, but he cleans up well. The suit was nice but the hat was a little corny. No one wears top hats anymore. Also, his head is a flat television screen, how does that thing even stay up there? 

“Uh, no.”

He blinks. “No?”

“Yeah, no.” You repeat. Was he dumb? 

He scoffs, “do you know who I am?” 

You spin, not daring to stop this time, “yup!” You waved to him over your shoulder, not looking back. “Bye!” 

______________________________________

Vox sprints through the door, the wood vibrating off its hinges. 

“What the fuck has gotten into you?” Velvette snaps from her place on the couch. 

“I don’t know…” The media demon slams his hands against his desk, a look of madness on his face as his one eye blinks red. “I didn’t get her name…” He whispers to himself. 

“Who?” Velvette smacks her lips against a lollipop, a loud ‘pop!’ with each suck. 

“The most beautiful creature in Hell…”

Link to Chapter Three!

Masterlist Link: Masterlist

[creamflix]

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

[mae-gi-writes]

rile you up | lee Minho (xo kitty)

You’re Minho’s latest form of entertainment and he cannot just get enough of riling you up.

Genre: romcom, slice of life, school!au, minho is a little dick

———

“Fuck you, Minho.”

“What a ray of sunshine you are on this fine day.”

You grit your teeth together, almost grind them to nothing, and repeat the words with even more conviction, “I said fuck you.”

”Watch that tongue sunshine, might fall out if you’re not careful,” Minho’s grin just widens at the way your eyes have narrowed into slights. If looks could kill, he would’ve been shot int he head twice, revived, and shot once again. But thankfully for him, your narrow-eyed stare is nothing scarier than a cute kitten ready to take her claws out.

It’s a boring, rainy and muddy Wednesday afternoon and you really don’t want to be here, in English Lit, listening to professor Lau drone on and on about love and friendship in the verses of Lord Byron’s poems and how, if you read in-between the lines and analyze the intonations, the words, the onomatopieas, you’ll find a much deeper definition of Lord Byron’s feelings.

And Minho sitting right beside you is not making it much easier.

“You’ve got a pimple growing on your left cheek,” Minho squints at your face as you turn away, cupping your face with your hands as your eyes find the lock tick, tick, ticking at the far end of the classroom. Thirty more minutes of this torture.

“Can you just stop hyper-analyzing me like I’m some kind of lab rat?I’m really not in the mood for this right now.” You snap back.

“Woah,” Minho sighs before he shakes his head, “you really did wake up on the wrong side of the bed today.”

“And you, my friend, need to mind your own business.”

“Minho and Y/N.”

Professor Lau’s voice causes both of them to wince, physically, before looking up to see the said old man with bespectacled glasses, the book of poems in his hand and his eyebrows raised as though he expected better.

If you’re being honest, you really do enjoy Professor Lau’s classes, normally. Normally.

But not today. Today, you’re having a completely off day. You woke up late, you couldn’t sleep at all last night, and all the coffee had run out by the time you’d made it to campus. Your grades are suffering and you’re currently trying to ploughing through all the assignments without drowning.

And the worst of it all, you miss home.

You miss your mom. You miss your family, your brother with whom you would fight with at every occasion and play Mario kart with. You missed your grandma, your aunts, the food they cooked, the shared laughter, the smiles…

You’re in so deep in your thought process that you haven’t even registered that Professor Lau is telling you off until he calls for your name that brings you back to attention.

“—yes?” Your eyes flit up to Professor Lau’s and a wave of emotion suddenly takes its toll on you. You try hard to blink back the sudden burn of tears at the corner of your eyes, crawling up your throat.

“I was expecting better of your behaviour, miss Y/N,” he says, pointedly looking between you and Minho with pursed lips, “in my office after class. You’re up for cleaning duty.”

Great. That’s exactly what you need. After everything.

Fucking. Great.

———

“These pretty hands cannot clean,” these are Minho’s first words as the rest of the class files out to leave you two alone on cleaning duty and as you had predicted, there are papers all over the place, test papers and pens and pencils, “I’ve taken care of my hands all these years. I am not ruining it just to clean a classroom.”

“You are so freaking dramatic,” you roll your eyes, standing up to find the cleaning supplies that are stacked at the back of the class, in the storage closet, “let’s just get this over with and we can both move on with our lives and I won’t have to see you again for the rest of this week.”

“What’s up your arse, dude?” Minho follows you, one hand leaning on the doorframe as you start pulling out the duster, the cleaning rags and the shiny new broom that Professor Lau is currently obsessed with, “you’ve been acting really weird.”

“What?” You scoff, proceeding to hand him the broom because you know he’s never going to be the one on his hands and knees cleaning the floors, “I’m not. I’m just tired.”

“No, you’ve been acting off all week. You’re all snappy, your dark circles are so prominent you look like a walking zombie and you keep asking me to go fuck myself,” Minho rolls his eyes, “also, how do you use this?”

“Jesus chri—“ you make a move towards him, grabbing the hand holding the broom while struggling to circle his back and grabbing the other, “you keep that thing steady, then you brush the dirt from this one—“ you grip his hand and shuffle it over the floor in a sweeping motion, “until it goes into the pan. Got it?”

It's only then you realize the warmth emanating from Minho's back. If you move a little closer, you could press your cheek against him. He smells like something citrus and fresh mint and man.

Somehow, it makes goosebumps explode all over your skin. You step back abruptly, noting the heat searing through your palms where you had touched him just as he turns to face you, "you seem to be a natural at this. Why don't you do it?"

"I'm gonna take care of the floors," you're glad for the distraction that comes in the form of the rag, for there's a knot of heat in the middle of your chest and you're not quite sure how to deal with it, "let's just get this over with."

There's a long moment of silence as both of you focus on your tasks, which helps to calm down your nerves. Somehow, the sound of Minho's brush is conforting to hear.

Until he speaks up, "so you're gonna tell me what's wrong?"

"Why should I tell you, of all people?"

"Because there's nobody else around and seeing you all mopey makes me actually feel bad for you."

You wipe off the dusty corner by the teacher's desk, "Do you have any ounce of decency in you somewhere?"

"Not when you're involved," Minho snickers.

You whip around, throw the balled-up rag at him and smirk in satiafaction when it hits him square in the head, "ow--what the fuck, Y/N?!"

Glad that you managed to piss him off, you turn and continue, "oops sorry. My hand slipped."

It's not ultimately Minho's fault that you're more anxious, more easily irritated than usual. So you can't really take it out on him. But he doesn't make it any easier either.

Thankfully, the rest of the cleanup goes smoothly as butter and he parts ways with the excuse that he needs to go find his aupposed lunch date, to which you merely rolles your eyes and headed for the dining hall alone.

It doesn't normally bother you to be alone. On the contrary, you relish in those silent moments of freedom without having to hear an earful from Kitty and Q, or having Yuri complain about yet another one of her life's family miseries.

But as you find a vacant seat by the door, you can't help but suddenly feel a little small in a room full of people who seem to be right where they should be. And something in your heart constricts and clenches so hard it causes a soft sob to die at the back of your throat.

You grip your spoon a little tighter and bite down so hard on your lip that you feel the tangy taste of blood.

It feels lonely.

------

You're kind of sick.

Not physically sick.

Just sick of hearing christmas carols ringing all over campus. Sick of smelling hot chocolate in the air, sick of seeing luggages being dragged on vacation.

Sick of being here.

For an international student, returning home for Christmas was never an option. The airplane ticket is too expensive for your familt to afford, and you wouldn't ever impose that on them. But if you had to admit to that selfish part of you; you wished you were privileged enough to get to fly out at every chance you got.

Alas, that is not the kind of life that you live.

So when the doorbell rings at seven-thirty in the morning on Christmas Eve, you're more than surprised to find none other than Minho standing by your door with his hands in his pockets.

"Wh--Yeah? What do you want?" You frown upon noticing the lack of luggage behind him. Knowing Minho, he packed like a diva.

He hums and peeks inside your flat, causing you to shuffle into his peripheral vision, "what do you want Minho?"

"You're not packed."

"Wise observation, smartass."

He brushes past you and strides inside, taking his shoes off casually by the door, "why not?"

"None of your business."

He throws you an exasperated look, "you gonna keep being like this?"

"I don't know, are you gonna keep annoying the hell out of me?"

He can't help the grin that spreads over his face at that, "you're fun to mess around with."

"Well for your information, it's not fun. Not for me," you don't hesitate to walk over before grabbing onto his arm and tugging over to the door, "really. I'm fine. Now leave."

"I'm surprised you're not going home for Christmas," he continues as you're pushing him out of the door.

It stings, "why?"

"International kids usually do," he folds his arms, proceeds to lean into the open doorway and you got another whiff of his scent, "what? Daddy didn't want to pay for you this time?"

"My dad died. Two years ago."

There's surprise first, that flashes through his eyes. Then realization slowly dawns.

There’s some kind of weight in your chest. Like your heart has just broke.

"What?" You laugh but it's dry and twisted, "cat got your tongue? Too shocked to speak? Poor little Y/N, who doesn't have a father to pay off her credit card bills, right?"

"I didn't know--"

"Of course you didn't. You never asked."

"I'm--" he swallows, looks away, "—sorry."

You scoff, "don't. It's okay. I've been over it for the past two years."

It's not what he says but rather the way he looks at you that makes your insides shrivel up with dread and fear and the idea that he'll never look at you the same way ever again.

Because the thing is, no matter how much Mjnjo teases you, bullies you into oblivion, you do enjoy the attention, the banter. It's almost as if it's better than just being ignored altogether.

And amidst all his teasing and his annoying personaity, there are bite and smidges of Minho's kindness smattered in-between, flecks of tenderness that makes your heart soar, your brrath

To have such a man look down at you, pity you, makes you want to be sick.

"Y/N--" you cut him off before he can even try to make it up to you, "it's fine, Minho. Just drop it--"

"Wha--I said I was sorry, don't give me that look--"

"I said drop it!" You swerve around on him, anger bubbling from deep within your chest as blood pulses through, rushes through you, "for one goddamn second, can you just leave me alone?! I don’t need this—this constant bullying of your part! It’s tiring and it’s just so goddamn frustrating and humiliating so will you just stop?!”

The shocked silence that follows your sudden outburst is heavy. If the tension had been thick before, it’s now so hard you can barely cut it with a knife. You try to regulate your staccato breaths, try not to let your body take over your mind as you focus on breathing in, breathing out, breathing in. Breathing out. Just like that.

Calm. Like water. Like you’re a river that never stops.

“Just go, Minho,” your words are bitter. You can barely look his way, an overwhelming surge of irritation, guilt and hurt swimming through you.

Thankfully, the young man seems just as surprised as you are and leaves without even a backward glance. That’s when you finally cave in and allow your legs to crumble to your floor. Pressing your head against the door, your body instantly gives into the sadness that crumbles through you like used up tissue, soaking in all the tears that are suddenly cascading down your cheeks without restraint.

You cry yourself to sleep that night.

———

“Minho, I’m really sorry about my behaviour.”

You stare.

Your reflection stares back.

Shit. This doesn’t feel right. You close your eyes, exhale a soft breath, and open them once more only to find a set of familiar brown eyes gazing back at you.

It’s just the day after Christmas and though the majority of your friends were still off campus, you’re well aware that a certain Korean young man has decidedly stayed back because of his mother’s offshoot shooting commercial.

However, you still hadn’t gotten the guts to go back and ask him for a formal apology yet. Did you even need one when he’d been the one prodding you with a stick like he would with a nest of aggressive bees?

Oh well. You decided you’d be the bigger person and make the first move. As always.

So you look back to your reflection with renewed determination, take a deep breath before forcing the words out, “I am really sorry for my shitty behaviour, Minho, I should’ve—no,” you shake your head, start again and clasp your hands together for good measure, “I’m really sorry if I offended you in any way, I was hurt—no. God. I sound so pathetic.” You can’t help but curse at the mirror.

Inhale. Exhale. Deep breath. And you try once more, this time adding a small smile.

“I’m really sorry for everything that I said. I was being a bit insensitive and wasn’t in the right headspace—“ you break off with a frustrated snarl, “god! Why is it so hard to apologize to the dude?!”

“The dude’s standing right here.”

Shocked, you swivel around only to find none other than the said question in person leaning against your doorway, eyebrows raised and a semblance of a smirk lining his lips.

“M—Minho,” you feel like slapping yourself for sounding like a stuttering goldfish. Quickly, your hands smooth down your sweater, hiding them in the big bell sleeves as your eyes find everything — anything, to get off his face, “what—what are you doing here?”

“I was looking for you, actually.”

“Why?”

You’re still not looking, deciding that the faint crack in your dorm room is much more interesting.

Minho’s footsteps approach as he strides close, close enough that you get a whiff of his expensive cologne and restrain yourself from sighing out loud.

The bastard smells too good, you feel like crying.

“Why?” He scoffs, “isn’t it obvious?”

“Not really.”

“Alright. Fine,” you’re still not looking at him, which is why you almost jump out of your skin the moment you feel the gentlest graze of his fingertips at your jaw.

“Wha—“ you stutter, eyes flashing up to his on instinct.

Dark brown meets swirls of maroon. You almost lose your breath.

In the mid-morning light with sunshine falling over half of his face, Minho looks like he’d just walked out of some fashion magazine.

“What are you…doing?” You manage to murmur out. Barely.

It’s hard to concentrate when he’s right there, in your personal space, looking a little too dashing for his own good.

“You’re right. I was being a selfish dick to you two days ago,” his grip on your chin is firm, his dark eyes even firmer, “so I’m sorry if you took it the wrong way.”

You laugh, “wait—is Minho actually apologizing? To me?”

“Don’t get used to it.”

“But this is a legendary moment,” you fake a mocking gasp at him, “I should record this right now.”

“Don’t make me regret it, Y/N.”

Chuckling, your eyes crinkle up as you allow yourself to roam over his features, “okay okay, I’ll stop.”

Minho fidgets and doesn’t say anything back. Weird, considering that he has a comeback for everything. You feel his hand drop from your chin as he takes a step back, lips pressed together and face looking like he’s uncomfortable being here.

Do you make him uncomfortable? It’s not a sight you’re used to seeing. Something tugs at your heartstrings but you try and ignore it.

“What is it?” You ask instead.

“There is…” his eyes dart away, “something I need to tell you.”

“About?”

His hand drops. Instantly, cold swoops in.

“About me. And you.”

You squint, “Minho I swear, if this is one of your stupid jokes again—“

“I like you.”

You blink.

He gazes back. His eyes. They’re gazing straight at you. Focused. Intense. Hot.

So hot it causes a flame to burst in your chest.

Wait…your mind backtracks, what?

“You—“ your mouth opens. Closes. Opens once more, "I'm sorry--what?"

His eyes answer in his stead. Dark orbs swirling with a depth that makes your skin explode in goosebumps. You realize, all too soon, how close you are, how -- if you want -- you can diminish the space between just with one single step forward.

"I like you," he says it honestly. Somehow, you relish in the way he says it. Clear and transparent. No inside games, no beating around the bush, "maybe more than a little."

You sense a but. "And?"

He rolls his eyes, "and maybe I just don't know how to show it."

"You mean, acting like a five year old boy who bullies his crush for fun because he likes her?"

"Something like that."

"Okay," you drag out the word in hopes that it will hide the way your heart suddenly skips a beat, the way your legs feel weaker at the knees, "so what--what now?"

"Well, that's the part where you tell me you like me back--" Minho catches himself upon seeing you raise a brow at him, "--or not. Your choice, your rules, doll."

Doll? You can feel the flame bursting through your chest and squeezing your heart. It aches so much it hurts, though it seems that your smile can't help tugging at the corners of your lips as you watch him and despite his seeming nonchalance about the whole matter, there's the slightest sheen of pink that gives him away.

Cute. Your brain chants.

"Well," you tilt your chin up in what you hope is a confident manner, "you normally take a girl out to dinner first."

"Is that a yes?" Minho smirks.

"Did you hear what I said?"

"Yes, yes I heard alright. Fine," he sighs and crosses his arms over his chest, "tomorrow night. Dinner. Be ready by six. I'll pick you up."

"Tomorrow? But wait I--"

"You better be there, doll."

And with that, he swivels on his feet and walk away while whistling a soft tune, leaving your heart flooded with a tide of mixed emotions that erupt through your chest and butterflies running along your skin.

---

Minho: I'll come pick you up by six. Be ready then. Wear something cute but casual. Nothing fancy.

Y/N: i like how you're telling me how to dress up when you're the one who's supposes to be wooing me.

Minho: oh you don't have to worry about that.

The way he replies so smoothly has goosebumps running along the back of your neck and you squeeze your hands into fists. You're still sitting on your bed, trying to digest all this new information as another flurry of messages burst through your phone, probably fron Kitty's latest reaction your news.

Kitty: what?! Minho?! And you?! He asked you out?!!! Omg how did I not see this coming!!!

Y/N: i thought you were a matchmaker.

Kitty: well YEAH before he went and ruined it!!! Anyway, what are you WEARING?!

Y/N: i have absolutely no idea. He said something cute but casual, so I'm guessing there's not gonna be any fancy dinners or anything.

Kitty: omg!! Minho and casual doesn't sound right. Maybe he really is trying to woo you!!

Y/N: should I wear shorts? Pants? A skirt?

Kitty: definitely no pants. Maybe that cute skater skirt you wore to Yuri's party last semester?

So you do. The skirt's baby blue colour contrasts well with the simple white tshirt you decided to wear with it, and throwing on a beige cardigan and some white sneakers complete the look. You add a small blue bow into your hair to match, and take one last look at yourself in hopes that you're looking exactly how Minho wants you to--

No. That's the wrong way to go about it. Minho likes you. Yes. You. Not the girls he's always so uses to seeing. You don't have to impress him.

That’s how you meet him right outside your door, with your newly-found resolve as you catch the simple white tee and ripped jeans, hair styled just the way he likes it, just enough to make every woman’s heart swoon.

His eyes do a once-over, “not bad, Y/N. You clean up nice.”

“Not bad?” You scoff, “I’m sure there are much better adjectives to use.”

He grins, “we’ll see.”

Minho brings you over to the Han river by electric scooter, with you standing in front and holding on to the handlebars as he guides you across the street even though it’s technically illegal for people to do such a thing. But with the wind in your hair and Minho’s warmth at your back, you don’t find yourself complaining.

“Han river?” You raise a brow at him as he parks and pays for his e-scooter ride, “really? So cliche.”

“The Han River is a classic,” he looks at you pointedly, “and I’ll have you know, I’ve never brought anyone here before.”

“Ooh, does that mean anything?” You wriggle your brows and he scoffs, looks away, “shut up.”

You weren’t expecting him, of all people, to be a fan of romantic gestures such as this. But when he parks his scooter in favor of walking alongside you by the trail — even with his multiple complaints about the dirt being too dirty and people needing to revisit their wardrobe fashion — you can’t help but wonder how much effort he’s putting into just being with you. Because knowing Minho, walking on crushed grass and having his shoes in dirt is quite a big deal.

“Look, do you want to be swooned or not?” He replies when you ask him the question, even looks offended that you’d dared ask such a thing, “I thought girls loved it when boys brought them here.”

“Yes I know that,” your grin is so wide that you’re surprised it hasn’t broken your face in two yet, “and don’t get me wrong. I love it, but I never thought you—of all people — would bring me here, of all places. It’s just not…”

“Not what?” He scowls.

“Just not you,” you confess, and then, seeing that his frown seems to take a permanent fixture on his face, you quickly add, “so the fact that you’re doing it…thanks. It means…something. You know?”

Heat springs through your cheeks at the sudden confession and you quickly look away, anywhere, but not before glancing at Minho to see that he has a faint smile dancing across his lips.

As the evening wears on, you get to talk about everything and anything; from worries about your future and the rigorous routine of adult life, about which game box is better and which restaurant serves the best korean noodles, which Minho argues does not exist, considering that every single noodle joint in Seoul is a pro in making them.

"We're the city of noodles and gimbap, obviously there's more than one good noodle stop."

"You speak like someone who hasn't tasted Uncle Cha's food yet. You know, the snack from across the road to campus."

Minho's nose wrinkles, "nah I'm good--"

"Oh no you don't," you grab onto his arm before he has a chance to run away, "nu-uh. Let's go get them right now, actually."

Surprisingly awed by Cha's cuisine, Minho has no other choice than to grumble out a faint agreement. It's no secret that it makes your day.

"But the environment--" Minho shudders, "I think I saw a cockcroach scuttling about in there."

“Oh yeah,” you let your eyes follow the wall and trail back up to him, pointing at his face, “there’s one.”

Shoving you playfully, he pulls out his tongue in such a childish manner you can’t help but burst out laughing.

You decide to take the walk back along the Han River even if it makes a detour, stopping by a coffee shop to grab some hot chocolate. The city lights now illuminate the city like stars scraping the earth’s surface and you can’t help but feel amazed by how beautiful the scenery is, with the wind trickling through your hair and soft music from busking sessions in the background.

“I’ve never actually walked along the Han River before,” you confess to him as you gaze down at the black waters sloshing against the river edge, “thanks, Minho.”

He has the look of a satisfied five year old child who got a gold star for his best behaviour, “you’re welcome.”

“Who knew you’d be the one to bring me here?” You jostle his shoulder playfully before taking a sip of your hot chocolate.

“What’s that you’re implying?” He frowns.

“That you’ve surprised me and my expectations.”

“And that’s supposed to be a compliment?” He looks horrified and dramatic, “you’re harsh, Y/N. I’ll have you know, I haven’t—“ he stops himself just in time for you to swoop in and push, “yeah? You haven’t what?”

“Nevermind,” he sips his own drink and you notice the way his ears have turned red.

You giggle, “tell me, have you gone on dates before?”

“Wha—of course I have! What kind of question is that?!” You keep on laughing and laughing at his face, shaking your head as you try and muffle your chuckles the best you can, “oh god—oh my god, you never have. It’s written all over your face—“

“You talk too much,” he mutters into his drink and turns away from you, ears as red as a fire engine.

You nudge him, smiling, loving that side of him that he’s never really shown anyone before. Because you all know the cool, confident Minho. But this, this side of Minho is uncharted territory.

And you’re all here for it.

“Why not, though?”

His eyes narrow as he looks back at you, “what?”

“Why haven’t you brought anyone out before?’ You fidget with your cup, glad that it’s warming your hands so you can busy yourself with something, “because I’ve seen you, with different types of girls. All the time—“

“Yeah that didn’t mean anything.”

“But you still went out with them.”

“Is that jealousy I hear in your voice?”

“What?” Heat flushes through you, “no, I just—“

That’s when you feel it. His hand, fluttering up to yours. He pries your hold from your cup gently before bringing it down between you, fingers entangling with yours like they’re meant to be there in the first place.

And when your eyes flutter to lock onto his, there’s liquid warmth in those pools of brown, a tenderness you’ve seldom seen before.

“This is new too,” he murmurs then, “all of this.”

Your heart skips a beat. There are no words to be said.

You swallow thickly, look away, and don’t miss the soft chuckle that falls from his lips as he keeps swinging your hands back and forth between you, his smile a permanent fixture on his face. One that your lips mirror faintly as you keep walking back towards your dorms in comforting silence.

———

“Was that romantic enough for you?”

Minho’s question is met with a chuckle from your part as you finally reach your dormitory. A few stray students are still studying deep into the night, some already asleep on the deep blue couches in the common room as you make your way through, hands still entertained from earlier.

Your heart has been skipping and rollerblading into ecstasy ever since.

“Hmm,” you hum, even tilting your head in thought, “guess so. Though if I had any complaints—“

“You wouldn’t tell me, because there aren’t any,” Minho finishes for you, “right?”

“Oh i have plenty, but I’ll keep it for another time,” you flash him a mischievous smile. You’ve reached your corridor by that time, your words causing Minho to shoot you a suggestive look.

“another time?” He repeats with a cock of his brow.

You bite your lip and look away to avoid the fact that there’s a faint, yet growing smile on your face, “yeah. Maybe.”

The said young man’s lips pulls into a small smile, “I can work with that.” He murmurs, and something warm pools in the middle of your chest.

It’s hard to control yourself around Minho especially when he’s not being a little shit. Because the fact is; he’s very enticingly charming and likable.

“Well, that’s me,” you’ve reached your door then, glad that for once your dorm room is free of activity since both your roommates have gone home for the Christmas season, and turn towards Minho.

“Thanks you, for tonight,” your cheeks are warm with heat but you can’t resist grinning up at him, “I had more fun than expected.”

Minho sucks in a dramatic breath, “wow. I think i finally got a compliment out of your mouth.”

“Trust me, that’s me being nice.”

“I know,” he flashes a grin at you and before you know it, his arm has gone up to press against the doorway, caging you in and suddenly making you feel smaller than you are already. His body heat rolls into you in waves, the scent of his boyish cologne making you dizzy as your body leans into him unconsciously.

“So,” he breathes. He’s so close, so close that if you move just a little, your noses would brush, “since I’ve taken you out on a date, do I get to kiss you now?”

Air stills in your lungs. Your teeth find your lower lip.

“It depends,” your whisper is so soft he barely catches it, too enthralled by the way your mouth curves and moves with the words, “will you take me out again?”

“If her highness wishes,” Minho chuckles, tilting his head so that your noses brush. Electricity zaps through your body, goosebumps raising at the back of your neck, “I’ll take you wherever you want.”

Your eyes lock. There’s warmth, want. Desire swimming through his own pools of brown.

“Sounds like a promise,” you breathe, “so when will that—“

“Y/N.”

The way he says your name has a knot tightening in your stomach. Your body tenses in anticipation.

He’s gazing at you as if he’s only just seeing you. His lips are so close, you can feel his breaths on your lips. Hot against cold. He smells divine.

You’re so lost in your own daydream that you respond a few seconds late, “y-yeah?”

“Do me a favor?”

One hand cradles your cheek. You freeze.

“Hm?”

“Stop talking.”

And before you can do anything else, his mouth presses against yours.

Fireworks explode. Behind your eyelids. Through your body. Blood races and your brain goes fuzzy with want and desire as Minho’s other hand wraps around your waist to tug you in, his other hand clasping your jaw firmly as he kisses you. Once. Twice. He’s a good kisser, yet so gentle and tentative.

You’re taken by surprise for a few seconds, before you finally melt into him and kiss him back. A sigh escapes you as your hands go up to wrap around his neck, and the groan of satisfaction he lets out makes your entire nerves buzz with delight.

Tilting his head to the side to kiss you deeper, longer, you let out a gasp against his mouth as he pulls you even closer still, as if he can’t get enough of you. You haven’t realized you’re pressed to the door until your back meets the hard wood underneath and you yelp softly at the way his tongue swipes over your bottom lip to ask for entrance.

He kisses you softly, yet so firmly as if you’re the only thing keeping him alive, satiated. His hand at your hip moves up, tracing the back of your spine, the side of your rib cage before brushing against the corner of your bra and making you squirm while your hands curl into his hair. You tug, causing a grumble to echo out of Minho’s chest. His tongue darts in and you part for him like melted butter so that he can kiss you and ravage you without restraint.

Everything falls away, with only Minho being your anchor. You smell him, feel him against you, and want nothing else other than the dizzying rush that makes your stomach erupt with fireflies.

Your mouths part with a pop and he takes this chance to nip at your jaw, littering kisses down your neck before suckling on a soft patch of skin. Your body reacts instantly, curving into him as your lips part in a soft, minuscule moan. That’s enough to snap him back to attention.

He gazes up at you, chest heaving and all heavy breaths. His lips are swollen and red and just so beautiful. Hair tousled like he’s just tumbled out of bed and you quickly decide that’s the look you love best on him.

The curfew bell sounds and he curses.

“Minho,” you murmur when he leans in, noses brushing to capture your lips into his once more. You sigh, eyes falling shut as he takes your next set of words away.

It’s almost as if he’s drunk on you, as if he just can’t get enough.

The thought makes you shiver. Your heart swells with emotion.

“Minho,” you murmur once more against his lips. He groans, pulls away onto to bury his face into your neck and humming, “yeah?”

“Curfew’s in two minutes.”

“I know,” he’s pressing open-mouthed kisses over your collarbone and you can’t help but whimper and cradling his head closer to you despite trying to make sense of your thoughts.

“Y—You should go,” you stutter out but it’s almost like you’re talking to yourself. He’s clearly in his own world, suckling onto your skin and leaving purple marks to claim you as his. He pulls away, groaning appreciatively at the sight you make.

“Do I really have to go?” His dark eyes — darker than you’ve ever seen them — flickers over your features. There’s a kind of hunger to them that makes you shiver.

“Yes,” you stammer out, heart almost bursting out of your chest when the boy merely tugs you close before he rests his head atop yours. He holds you, breaths you in, and your eyes close on their own accord, taking in the moment like it’s the last.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” his whisper grazes the shell of your ear and you shiver. He pulls back and there’s the kind of crooked smile that makes your heart tighten, “goodnight, Y/N.”

“Good night, Minho,” you murmur and dropping a last kiss atop your temple, you watch him walk away, raising a salute with his hand as he does so.

———

A/N: GAHHH IDK WHAT I WROTE AND I GAVE UP AT THE END I HOPE IT’S ALRIGHT BUT ANYWAY I’VE BEEN OBSSESSED WITH MINHO THESE DAYS.

[muddyorbsblr]

everybody's watching him…but he's looking at you

'one look and they'll know' collection masterlist See my full list of works here!

Placement: morning after 'after hours visits'

Summary: Old scars start hurting once again in the wake of your brazen and disrespectful visitor from the night before, and Tom's there to comfort you…on and off the field

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Warnings: 18+ | smut (minors & pearl clutchers, exit stage left); unprotected p in v sex; morning sex; insecure Reader in the first scene; language; sleazy pervy teammates [let me know if I missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: established relationship

Dick-tionary: smut starts at "He moved his large hand" and ends at "nothing but a distant memory"

You and Tom were once again woken up by the blaring of your alarm filling the room, your boyfriend adorably groaning before tightening his arm around you in a near perfect repeat performance of yesterday morning.

"Do you have to be at the briefing room early again today?" he grumbled, his fingertips tracing up and down along your spine. "Draw names again?"

"No…" you sighed, your tone immediately making him tense up.

"Sweetheart?" He tilted your head to look up at him, his sleepy eyes gradually becoming more alert as he met your gaze. He moved your hair away from your face, tucking the stubborn front strands behind your ear. "What's wrong? You look like you haven't slept."

"I couldn't," you blurted out, wincing the second the words came out of your mouth.

"What's wrong?"

There was a lump at your throat so large you could barely choke out the words. You already felt like shit making him worry about you like this, you didn't want to make it worse.

"Please talk to me, my love," he whispered, tracing this thumb along your lower lip before bringing you closer to press a kiss to your forehead. "I won't much help if I'm flying blind. Something's eating at you and--"

"Why aren't you tired of me yet?" The words just flew out of your mouth, your voice tiny and if you were being completely honest with yourself…you were embarrassed that you'd even allowed the question to take over your thoughts to the point of sleeplessness. "I'm sorry I shouldn't have--"

Before you could say anything else, he tightened his arm around you and sat up, positioning you so that you were sitting on his thighs.

"I should have seen it," he whispered, concern filling his eyes as he traced the lines of your face. "That woman's words from last night, they got to you. Affected you in a way neither of us thought of preparing for."

"Sweetie, this isn't on you." You did your best to just wave off the conversation, placing your hands on his shoulders and trying to work at the now tense muscles. "I know we've been through this before, we don't have to do it again, I shouldn't have said any--"

"Stop." He wrapped his hands around your wrists, stopping you from what you were doing. "It doesn't matter if we've had this conversation before, if we have to, then we'll have it again. As many times as you need." He gave a quick tug and your chests were pressed together, his arms snaking around your back and offering you no escape. "I love you." He pressed a kiss to your lips. "Only you. You know that, right?"

"I do, I really do. I just--I didn't realize how bad what happened last night fucked me up until I realized I couldn't close my eyes without reliving…" You took a shaky breath, the memories of the last serious relationship you had before Tom trying to drown you. "Without reliving what happened before. I mean…if I had a nickel every time a would-be homewrecker knocked on my boyfriend's hotel room door dressed in lingerie, I'd have two nickels. And that's just the ones that I know about."

He didn't say anything in return. He just proceeded to press light kisses across your face, holding you tighter against him. "My sweet goddess," he whispered into your skin, sighing when he'd kissed his way to your lips. "No one will ever succeed in luring me away from you. If you only knew how in every moment I have to myself, all I can think about is having you with me again…" He kissed along your collarbone, repeatedly whispering your name and declarations of love with every kiss.

"God why do you even put up with me I can't be that good in bed--" You let out a yelp as he flipped your positions on the bed, your back landing on the mattress with a soft thud.

"You should know by now that nobody gets to talk about the love of my life like that. Even you, sweetheart." He latched his lips onto the spot between your neck and shoulder that had you weak and squirming beneath him. "I've known since before our first night together, before you first kissed me, that I would spend my future loving you. Regardless of how you felt for me. I resigned myself to the fact that part of me was forever yours before you ever let me share your bed."

"Sweetie…" How was it that he somehow always knew how to draw you back from that dangerous ledge your mind often went to? "How are you not sick of handling my stupid little moments yet?"

"Firstly, they're not stupid. I would never belittle your fears like this," he mumbled into your neck, working his arm underneath you to lift your hips off the bed and pull you closer as you writhed underneath him. "And secondly…I quite like handling you." You felt him smirking against your skin at the squeal that hitched at the back of your throat. "Comforting you, loving you, is not and will never be a chore for me."

As he captured your lips in another soft, slow kiss, his words from last year began to echo in the back of your mind all over again. I know you're not ready yet, but I want you to know that I am. I've always been.

The guilt sat heavy in your heart knowing that you knew exactly where he was and where he wanted to go, and yet you couldn't bring yourself to stop looking at your life in complete disbelief. Waiting for the other shoe to drop. It happened before, what was stopping the universe from making it happen again?

"I'm still scared that one day I'm gonna wake up and you've disappeared," you confessed when he pulled away, inwardly wincing at how pathetic the words made you feel. "I haven't been as afraid the last few years but last night…it brought all those fears back to the surface I mean what if I wasn't here when she showed up--"

"Then I would have told her that I'm in a happily committed relationship and I have no need for anyone else. I would have turned her away," he said, answering your unfinished question. He laid you back down flat on the bed, proceeding to kiss his way down your body, stopping when his lips hovered over your heart. "I need you to know that I'm not going anywhere. That I'm yours for as long as I live. You're the last woman I'm going to love."

You inwardly cursed at yourself for still being unable to say the words, the sentiment still refusing to move past the lump in your throat. I'm on the same page with you. I want to be yours for the rest of my life. Can I keep you?

Instead you lifted a shaky hand to weave through his short dark blond curls, finding yourself breathing a touch easier when you heard him sighing in contentment at your touch. "You should know I feel the same way. I'm no good with words but I'm getting there I'm trying I really am--"

"You don't have to say anything right now, sweetheart. When you're ready, and only when you're ready, I will be right here with you. I always will." 

He moved his large hand down the side of your body, curling around your knee to hook your leg around his waist. Your moans began to fill the room when he lowered his head and captured your nipple between his lips, licking and sucking it into a stiff peak. "What're you--"

"What time do you have to start wakeup calls?"

The words threw you in for a loop, your mind stumbling and scrambling to recall your morning schedule. Briefing room by 8, players should be in the field by 7:45, twenty to thirty minutes to run across the hotel and get to the other three players assigned to me…

"7:15," you said between heaving breaths, letting out another moan when he repeated his attentions on your other breast.

"Then we have time…" he mumbled, kissing his way back up to your lips, a devilish grin painted across his devastatingly handsome features. "We'll leave this room together and I'll go to the field, then you can go start the rest of your wakeup calls."

You started to whimper and moan against his lips as he started to roll his hips into yours, already feeling his quickly hardening member rubbing against your entrance. "Wait sweetie I still have to take a shower, change my clothes." Dammit Y/N keep your mouth shut why are you turning down morning sex, you absolute buffoon, you hissed at yourself. "I can't go to the field smelling like sex--"

"We can shower together," he answered back smoothly, stealing another kiss from you before speaking again. "And I packed a change of clothes for you for this exact scenario."

"And what scenario is that?" you asked him breathlessly, a thrill running through your whole body as he stroked your thighs before parting them the slightest bit more and settling his hips between them. Your hand slammed down on the mattress, gripping the sheets when you felt the tip of his length rubbing up and down between your folds, teasing your entrance.

"The one where I want to keep you in bed a little while longer," he rasped, starting to inch his way inside you, letting out a shuddering breath before pressing a kiss to your shoulder. "We're not leaving this room until last night's insolent visitor is nothing but a distant memory."

There must have been an angel smiling down on both you and Tom today, seeing as you were assigned to work the field again, even functioning as an assistant cameraperson as a few people from one of the crews set to shoot footage of today's Training Week events fell ill.

You were set to assist in filming the penalty shootout later on in the afternoon, handling a relatively smaller camera that would focus on the players watching rather than the players shooting for the home dressing room. For the morning, however, you were mostly guiding the photographers through the field, ensuring that they were at a safe enough distance so that the chances of them getting hit by a stray ball were significantly slimmer.

"Oi, if you stare a little harder your eyes'll burn a hole through 'er head," Jill's voice broke Tom out of his thoughts, elbowing him lightly when he stole one last glance at you before running into the playing area.

When he finally got to his teammates, his skin brisled at the discovery that they too were staring shamelessly at you, talking about the little mouth-shaped bruises that peppered your neck and chest. It didn't help that he might have added to that count this morning while he was comforting you.

"I mean if she didn't want us to look then she woulda worn something that doesn't show off her tits so much. And those hickeys are practically a red neon arrow going Look over here, gents."

Tom shut his eyes, making a conscious effort to unclench his jaw before facing them, putting on a whole performance as he smiled at them and pretended he didn't want to conveniently forget that he was a gentleman and strike them clean across their cheek. "Lads," he greeted them through gritted teeth masked as a smile. "Shall we proceed with some drills?"

"In a minute, Y/L/N is about to lean down and--No, come on sweet thing, move your hand outta the way!" The loud holler from his teammate had you snapping your head in their direction, and he could see your neck visibly tensing when you saw his teammate with hands cupped over his mouth, not even bothering to seem ashamed of the distasteful remark.

You were called over to a table by the bleachers, and finally the immature lewd comments about you seemed to stop and they all proceeded with drills for a short while. If only his teammates hadn't once again opened their mouths once they paused to take a break.

"You gents think she and her boyfriend would be opposed to a threesome? Too pretty of a thing for just one man to keep to himself."

Another one chimed in. "Downright greedy is what it is. Everyone should have the God given right to see a mouth that sinful stuffed with--"

"You know, I really don't think her boyfriend would appreciate hearing you all talk about her like she's some sentient sex doll," he finally blurted out, fighting the urge to clench his fists as his heart thundered in his chest.

"Pssh come on, I know you have your woman but even you with your A-list standards have to admit that she's a looker."

She is and she's mine, he inwardly seethed. "You can appreciate someone's beauty without being so crass about it."

"Loosen up a little, Thomas. Pretty sure her boyfriend would be proud knowing nearly every man with a pulse here wants a go at that. And it's not like he can even hear us, whoever the lucky bastard is." His teammate sighed as he looked over at that table again, making Tom hold himself back with all his strength as he watched him so brazenly adjust his shorts in front of everyone in the field. "Just one night. Lucky bastard just gotta share for one night."

Your words from last night rang loud and clear in his mind. He refused to let this go on. It was time to make things less private.

"Actually the lucky bastard can hear you all just fine," he announced loud enough for all the horny assholes to snap their heads to look at him. "And I can tell you right now neither of us are open to sharing."

"You know…I didn't see you come back to the room this morning," Simone commented with a teasing tone when she passed by the table you were sat at. "Not to be a bit of a Nosy Nancy but…if your clothes were with us, where'd you--"

"Boyfriend," you answered simply, smiling at the memory of this morning's shower with Tom in his room. And the numerous, extensive kisses you shared before parting ways for the morning. "Apparently he kept an outfit change for me in his luggage. Contingencies."

"Nice boyfriend," Joelah commented, plopping down on the seat next to you and jutting her chin toward the laptop in front of you. "Whatchu workin' on?" Before you could answer, she placed a hand on your shoulder, making you face her as she silently counted the marks on your neck and chest. "Fuckin' A you weren't kidding about your boyfriend thinkin' he's a vampire do you have more…"

"I do," you answered with a little chuckle, giving them a casual shrug. "The ones from earlier haven't even started showing yet--"

"What?!" Joelah and Simone all but shrieked, eyes wide and jaws on the ground as the former waved Douglas over. "Please tell me you know something about who the mystery man is, we still have three guesses."

The player shrugged in response. "All I know is that Jill knows and she refuses to share with the class. Just said something about if we paid enough attention we woulda figured it out by now because, and I quote, it's 'damn near impossible to miss the smitten on that man'."

"Honestly you guys Jill just basically dropped a name and asked me point blank if we were a thing," you offered, giving them a tiny smile. "So I said yes." You turned your gaze back to Joelah. "As for your earlier question, I'm doing security penetration testing on the auction site for the match-worn jerseys. Trying to make sure no one can just insert their bid without actually putting in the money and all that."

You turned back to the laptop to go through a few more test cases before sending over a checklist of some more advanced attacks for the development team to test out, as you wouldn't have enough time in the day to spare in this consult for those. From the corner of your eye you saw Joelah lean back in her chair, facing the England team.

"Ungh Don't talk about penetrating right now, babes, it's making me think things" she groaned, the frustration in her tone so potent you could practically hear her pout. "Unholy things. For a certain Player Number 6 with that obscenely tight jersey and that arse I mean just fuck me running look at the sheer power in those moves."

Without looking up from your computer you darted your eyes toward the field to sneak a fleeting glance at Tom, the stupidly tight shirt you masterminded him into stretched so tight across his back muscles you could see the definition even from this far, and his stance putting his ass and thighs on borderline sluttish display. You had to purse your lips and bite back your words before you voiced a similar sentiment, only yours mentioning that you knew exactly what power those legs held while he took you against the shower wall earlier this morning.

"Ohh Christ on a bike was I too loud?"

"I don't think so," you answered her, typing away your findings and starting on your final test. "Why what's up?"

"He's looking at the table, I'm no better than those horny asshats making crude comments at you I feel like a right knob--Wait…hold on…" She pointed at herself and you heard a faint "Me?" coming from her before she started patting your shoulder to call your attention. "Never mind he's not looking at me I think he wants to talk to you."

That was enough to make you look up completely from what you were doing, meeting your boyfriend's gaze from ten yards away. You gave him a tiny smile, raising your eyebrow in a playful questioning look. He raised his hand and gave you a little wave, prompting you to do the same.

He then started to mouth a message to you that had your breath catching in your throat with a borderline inhuman sound. I. Love. You.

"Wait hold on--?!" Simone shrieked from the side. You could hear that she and Joelah had clasped their hands together like best friends in a high school hallway, watching one of their own getting a Promposal.

"What?" you mouthed back, barely able to hold back the smile that was pulling at your mouth. What he did next had you breaking out into a full on toothy grin, joyful tears prickling at the back of your eyes.

He cupped his hands over his mouth and hollered his message again. "I said I love you, Y/N!"

You felt the air leave your lungs, unable to hold back your joy as you saw that heartbreakingly handsome face beaming at you. With cupped hands over your own mouth, you hollered back at him, "I love you, too!"

A hand clasped around yours, and Joelah looked at you with wide excited eyes. "He's--??"

"He's the boyfriend," you confirmed with a vigorous nod of your head. The other women looked at you jaws slack and silently prompting you to give up some more details. "Going on seven years."

"So he did all…" Douglas motioned at all the marks on your chest. "That??"

"And the ones that haven't started showing yet," you shot back with a cheeky wink.

"Ohh my lordy me I just realized," Joelah gasped. "Keeping things low key?! You already told us before and we were just being so fucking dense about it! You were so slick with that!" You only gave her a little shrug, giving yet another confirmation, before she jutted her chin again to point at something behind you. "Your man's coming over."

You took a breath before turning to see Tom breaking into a light jog making his way to you, immediately reaching for your hands when he got close enough. "Hello, sweetheart," he said with a heaving breath, the exhilaration radiating off him in waves as he moved his hands up your arms until he got to your shoulders. "You looked so tense, I needed to check on you." Once your shoulders relaxed he wrapped an arm around your waist, grasping your chin with his free hand, coaxing you to unclench your jaw. "Are you alright, goddess?"

"I am now," you sighed contentedly, feeling the tension steadily leaving your body with each passing second. "Thank you for checking on me."

He leaned in, brushing his nose against yours. "I'm here for you, my love. Always," he said softly, framing your face in his hands. "But now that I'm here, perhaps I could…steal just a little kiss?" He looked at you with those pleading eyes that never failed to get you weak in the knees.

"You know I can't say no to you…especially when you ask so nicely." You barely had time to take in a breath before he braced his hand behind your back, tilting his head to close the remaining inches of distance between you and press his lips to yours.

The faint sound of the ladies next to you clapping and squealing surrounded you, made louder when he splayed his hands at your upper back and your hip before dipping you. He smiled against your lips when you let out a muted squeal of your own.

Jill's voice broke through your moment, remind you both exactly where you were. "Alright adorable as you two are, get your arse back out on that field, Hiddleston. You can kiss your girlfriend all you want after today's training."

You giggled from your position, holding on to his shoulders as your upper back rested perfectly comfortably on his thigh, as he pulled away with numerous soft pecks to your lips. "I love you," he whispered against your lips, pressing one more kiss before righting both your stances.

"I love you, too," you said back, unable to wipe the smile off your face as he jogged toward the field. Once you turned to face the rest of the women at the table, the sound of a frustrated shriek and stomping on cement hit your ears. Followed by a distant 'It's not fair!!' that had you all laughing amongst yourselves before Jill called out to Douglas to get back on the field as well.

Later that night you knocked on Tom's hotel room door, a look of slight concern on your boyfriend's face as he eyed the bag in your hand before a smile graced his features, realizing why you had your luggage with you.

"My roommates kicked me out," you said, making a whole show of sticking out your bottom lip in a little pout. "Something about it being pointless to keep my things there if I don't sleep there anyways." You tried to bite back the smile as he stepped toward you, running his hand down your arm until he took the handle of your overnight bag from you. "You don't happen to have a place for me to crash, would you?"

Your giggles filled the hall as he wrapped his other arm around your waist, your feet leaving the ground as he brought you into the room, kicking the door shut. "I only have the one bed," he answered you, his voice raspy as your bag hit the floor with a soft thud. "You'd have to adhere to a few rules, however."

"And what exactly are these rules?" you shot back, failing to stifle your whimper when he laid you down on the bed, smirking down at you as he worked his hands under your shirt.

"First…no clothing." He made quick work to pull your shirt over your head before pressing his lips to your now bared stomach, sucking and biting another bruise onto your skin while he unclasped your bra. "And second…you'll have to sleep in my arms at all times." He kissed his way up your body until his lips ghosted over yours. "Do we have a deal, goddess?"

You closed the last bit of distance between you, pressing your lips to his before answering him. "Always."

A/N: Meow meow protecting his bb is precious and must be protected at all costs. Everyone working the event finally knows and that means we're on to…game day! I might be giving these two a little break though to work on other series and also…the rest of my requests that've been there since 500 followers and we're already here at [information redacted] so…I'm hella late 🤣🤣

'everything' taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemis @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @peaches1958 @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th  @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @anukulee @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog

[marleyybluu]

Four and Counting

husband!Oscar Diaz x fem!black!reader

Word count: 4.4k (oops)

Warnings: everything is fluff, the cutest couple alive, another pregnancy, hints at abortion (but supportingly?), Oscar being the cutest fucking husband, self-indulgent asf cant lie like I want be in love like this

if i missed any lmk

AN: yall do not know how long this mf has been in my drafts omg I finally finished. This fic is just drowning in love. No smut 🤷🏾‍♀️. A bit rushed in certain places but it all fits pretty well in my opinion. this is not the end of the series but its like the end of the main chapters. there will be lore on the couple obvi, updates on the kids and the family as a whole bcus i am obsessed. hope yall enjoy.

You didn't know how it happened, you blinked and soon there were four. You had four kids running around your home filling it with innocent joy and laughter, and the occasional attitude. It was a full house and a busy life, but it could be enjoyable. You'd become a stay-at-home mom. At first, you weren't sure if you'd be able to manage, you loved your job a lot and worked extremely hard for it but with your growing family, your kids needed you more.

With Oscar opening a second restaurant you thought it'd be a good idea to bring up what's been gnawing away at you and he tells you that he's behind you no matter what path you choose. You put in your letter of resignation and bid your co-workers a teary-eyed farewell with promises to visit as much as they can. You had to admit it was a nice break, you didn't have to wake up as early, you weren't on your feet as much and the house was nice and quiet for a few hours when your children were either in school or at daycare. But then you had baby Rosie and your house had returned to a screaming, hollering mess.

She was a loud one and very expressive, babbled and cooed to anyone who would listen. "And then what happens after that?" You say laying next to her gently stroking her hair. She kicks her feet with excitement and responds in her usual baby language. "Oh my goodness." You respond. You could do this all day. You hated to admit it but you missed the baby stage so much and you were grateful for your little one. You'd been lounging around all day, only getting up to shower when she had fallen asleep and the occasional time when you needed to grab her bottle.

You pepper her chunky face in kisses and she squeals with happiness. "Que hermosa." You giggle. You two are so wrapped up in your world you don't even hear when the door unlocks and Oscar strolls in, he decides to check in on you since everything at the restaurant was going fine today. He notices the obvious vacancy of your presence downstairs and stumbles into the kitchen thinking you were feeding Rosie but he was wrong. He hears his baby's infamous noises from upstairs and smiles following the sweet noises. He creeps in on you two.

His head lolls to the side and rests on the door frame. He'd seen you like this many times (clearly) and it never got old. The way you lovingly interact with each child at any stage in their life, it was sweet to witness you give the same sweet eyes to Rafa at his big age as you did when he was a baby. Just a gentle reminder that he chose the right woman to marry, the best one to make a mother.

Rosie turns her little head and screams when her eyes land on her father. "Hola, mi corazoncito." He coos entering the room matching the same excitement as his baby which causes her to become even more riled up. He scoops her up and holds her in the air and all you can do is watch and grin like the Cheshire Cat. He brings her down and kisses her cheeks. "Cómo estás, mi mariposa?" He asks Rosie and she nuzzles her forehead in his cheek. Her nonverbal way of saying she missed him. Oscar takes his place next to you on the bed. "How are you, mama?"

You pucker your lips and he smiles dropping a kiss. You pout at how quick it was but quickly subsides when he gives you a forehead kiss. "I'm good. Sleepy. Hungry. Missing you."

"Missed you too, that's why I came home. And I brought some food from work."

You squinted. "Who cooked it?"

He chuckled. "Jason."

"Yes!" You fist pump. "Jason makes the best fucking food I swear."

Oscar's head seems to tilt even more, he's insulted by your statement but you smile sheepishly placing an encouraging hand on his shoulder. "Not as amazing as you do." He rolls his eyes and kisses your temple. Rosie babbles as her little reminder that she's still in the room. "No one forgot you chica" He affirms giving her some more smooches. "Let's go get mommy her food."

You sit up and stretch; some much-needed cracks are heard via your aching bones, and when your arms come down, you feel much looser and less tense than before. "It's okay, iré contigo." (I'll come with you.)

The three of you plop down the stairs and you part ways as Oscar heads to the kitchen while you shuffle to the living room and drop onto the couch, your lounging was short-lived when the doorbell rang. You huff getting back up on your feet. You swing the door open with a mean mug on your face until your eyes land on your mom and your features immediately soften.

"Hi, Mommy." You smile reaching out for her. "Hi sweetie, how are you?"

"I'm great," You pull her inside and close the door behind her. "What are you doing here?"

She shrugs off her jacket and hangs it up on the rack nearby, her shoes slip off her feet and she places those next to Spooky's on the mat. "Came to visit, figured you'd need some... company..." She trails off and— not so subtly— stretches out her neck to see if she can spot the baby. "Mhm." You say crossing your arms, you call bullshit.

"She's in the kitchen with Spooky."

And just like that, your mother leaves you in her dust. You hear her high-pitched, "Hiiiii GG's babyyyyy, helloooo." And you can't help but smile. Your mom always seemed to become happier with each grandchild you produced.

You begin to feel left out when you hear all the commotion in the kitchen so you decide to join them. Your daughter has your mom's nose in her small fist while your mom blows raspberries in her little tummy, she erupts with laughter and you catch a glimpse of Oscar with nothing but heart eyes for his baby girl. You sneak over to him and slide your arms around his abdomen, he drops his arm over your shoulder and draws you close. He plants a kiss on your head. The microwave beeps behind you signalling that whatever was in there had finished heating up. Your eyes widen when the aroma of cheese hit your senses. "Is that lasagna?"

He nodded. "Yeah. He made a little dish for you, told him you've been craving it lately."

You squeal with excitement as you take the hot dish out of the microwave, you set it on the counter and danced over to the drawers in hot search for a fork, your successful in finding one and greedily stick it inside the soft noodles that were jam packed with delicious ingredients. You take one bite and practically faint at the taste.

"Just needs one more thing." You think out loud, you hustle over to the pantry and grab a bag of barbecue chips, you snag a handful and crack them in your hand, sprinkling them on top. Oscar stands there... confused.

"Girl, what the hell is that?" Your mom asks equally appalled.

You shrug and take another bite. "It's good though." You muffle with a full mouth.

"I love you." Oscar sighs and you laugh at his adoration for anything you do, you blow him a kiss before taking another bite. You don't see it but your mom has her eye on you with a very interesting theory brewing in her head. Your husband's phone rings and he excuses himself to answer it leaving you alone with your mom and Rosie, who is quiet and happy on her grandmother's chest, her little eyes slowly closing with sleep.

You try your best not to make too much noise while you reach for more-

"Are you pregnant again?"

You nearly choke on your saliva at the ridiculous question. You quickly shake your head. "No!? Are you nuts? I just had her and she is the last one." You assure but your mom isn't believing it. "This little concoction says otherwise."

You roll your eyes. "I just... like pasta and chips... together."

It did sound ridiculous.

"Since when?"

"Like... a month ago..."

She sucks her teeth. "Mi amor, I'm telling you, I think you're pregnant."

This was insane, this was an insane conversation to be having. You were one hundred percent sure there was nothing and no one in your belly-- just the mere thought of having two under two was giving you the heebie-jeebies. "I'm just saying-"

You groan like the irritated teenager you once were, "Ay Mama, no más charlas de bebé, por favor." (No more baby talk, please.)

She agrees to ease off the topic but it remains in the back of her mind.

-- --

Later that day after Oscar's gathered the others from school, you sneak out of the house to do some grocery shopping. It was a bit of time for yourself, a time when you didn't have to keep your eye on your tiny little humans. You go through the aisles for the essentials and when that's done you browse for treats and snacks for your kids (that you and Oscar will eventually munch on as well.)

You cautiously approach the next aisle that is stacked with condoms, contraceptives and pregnancy tests. You meant to move, your hands ready to push the cart forward but your feet are firmly planted on the floor. You sigh and turn in, quickly grabbing a box and dumping it in the cart as though it's not for you. "She better be fucking wrong." You mutter to yourself.

-- --

With all kids fed, bathed and in bed before twelve it allows you to have the bathroom to yourself for a while. You wedge the knuckle of your index finger between your two rows of teeth, you stare at the box and sigh. "Please prove her wrong." You whisper to no one in particular. You pop open the box and rip open the wrapping of the test. One original and one digital. You sit on the toilet and do what you've done a hundred times, you pee on the sticks and set them aside until the timer goes off.

You clean yourself up and wash your hands, you know better than to just stand there and watch the sticks waiting for that fate-sealing answer but you go against yourself and stare. You're in a trance until there's a knock at the door, it startled you and you clutch your non-existent pearls for dear life. "Que?"

Oscar asks, "You good? Didn't need company tonight?" He's referring to your commonly shared showers which, now that you think about it, is probably one of the reasons you're in this predicament again!

"No, it's not that. I'm just..."

You huff and unlock the door swinging it open with displeasure on your face, your arms crossed as you nod over to the tests on the counter. His eyes follow your actions and pop out when he sees them. "How-"

"Mom said it was weird that I ate the lasagna like that."

He chuckled. "Didn't want to say anything." 

You whine saying, "It's not funny, I just thought it was a change in my palette or something, I mix random foods all the time. I-" You searched for every excuse you could find. Oscar's face softens at the worry in your voice. "I just had Rosie." You sigh sounding depleted. You turn your back to the tests when you hear that all too familiar sound. You squeeze your eyes shut, if you don't look you won't know the answer and you can go about your merry way. Your husband offers to look for you and leans over. You hear the quietest gasp he's ever uttered and you know. You spin around to look at them yourself.

Positive. Both of them show positive.

You look up at Spooky and he's already looking at you waiting for your reaction so he can curate his own. "How do you feel about it?"

You shrug. You truly didn't know, you didn't even have words. Your throat was dry. You pick up one of them and look at it. And you feel nothing. Empty. Just waiting for a sense of gratitude to come across and for some reason, you can't seem to produce it. You put the test down and leave.

Spooky's still standing there with his heart in the pit of his stomach. Maybe he should've listened to you, that two was enough, and then three and four. He's after you, right on your heels as you enter your bedroom. You sit on the bed and fall back onto the sheets, you cover your eyes and shake your head at yourself and him. "I just had Rosie." You repeat to yourself. And then it happens. A tear slips and as quick as you are to wipe it, he knows you like the back of his hand— your breathing gets choppy and choked, you sniffle. The bed dips beside you and the sound of the sheets ruffling as he lays down.

"Háblame." (Talk to me)

You take a deep breath. You can be honest. "I don't know how I feel. I'm not sad but I'm not happy. I just hoped Rosie would be a little older. They all have good age gaps and- Oh god, what if they don't want another sibling? And Rosie and I spend so much time together, they just got used to her-- Emilia was so clingy when I had her, she felt so left out and-and-"

Oscar presses his hand over your thigh. "Cariño. Respirar. Por favor.

You breathe shakily. "It's okay not to know how to feel. If this is not what you want... I'm here for you, your moms here... the kids are here. We have more than enough, Sí?"

You nod. He reaches over and pulls you into him, you rest your forehead on his chest while he rubs smooth circles on your back. "We have some time for you to think about it right? It's your world mi amor, we're just living in it. I got you no matter what."

"Spooky."

"Mhm."

"Thank you."

He smiles and kisses your head. "It's my job baby."

— — You'd been hiding your belly from everyone, even the kids. It was easy for the most part because you only wore baggy clothes and they made you look a little large anyway but then there were not so subtle signs— like the heavy breathing from doing just about anything, and your walk? Oh, your walk was not normal no matter how hard you tried. So you decide to come clean to your kids and other close family during a little gathering that Spooky's brother, Cesar, was hosting. Cesar was the only person who knew and you two asked if it'd be okay to announce it tonight.

He was fine with it, excited actually.

Your hands shake. You were cautious in deciding on having this baby, it took you a while to feel anything. At first, it was uncertainty, did you want another? Would you be crushed if you didn't have it?

But as the weeks passed you couldn't help but fall in love with the growth, the bigger you got the giddier you became. Modelling in front of the mirror any chance you got, and when all the kids were asleep you'd talk to your belly and giggle with every shift they made.

"Listo?"  He asks and you nod confidently. Oscar whistles over to Cesar giving him a thumbs up. Cesar turns down the music to gather everyone's attention. "I just want to thank everyone for coming out, it's been a while since we've all been in one place, right?"

The crowd mumbles in agreement. "But it's great to see everyone in good health and good spirits—" He raises his Corona bottle and the crowd follows with their drinks (including the kids and their juice boxes) "Salud." He smiles.

"Salud." The crowd repeats. You clear your throat and enthusiastically say, "Oh let me see if I can get a picture. Everyone gets in."

They shuffle into one pile as best they can, you grab your phone and hold it landscape, you press record and say, "Alright everybody in... great, now saaaay... Y/n and Spooky are having another babyyyy!"

There were collective gasps, the word "what!?" Being thrown around in every language. "Excuse me!?" Your mom hollers. You unbutton your cardigan and turn to the side having worn a tight dress on purpose. "Surpriiiiiise." You sing out.

"I FUCKING KNEW IT!" Jasmine screams stretching her arms out for you, you gasp and playfully smack her hand. "Not in front of my kids, puta!"

She tells you to shut up and hug her, your mom joins in and soon the children and in that moment it hits how loved and supported you are by everyone around you. This was your village and it was a damn good one too.

Oscar's friends dap him up and congratulate him. They hug you as well and whisper that they hope it's another girl. They loved spoiling your daughters. Anything they asked for the boys were sure to buy it no problema.

"Well, actually," You begin to say. "We know what we're having."

Rafa, your oldest comes up to you. "Is it a boy?" His eyes gloss over with the hope that you would say yes, he'd been hoping that Emilia (your third) was going to be a boy but he lucked out. You had an idea. You hunch over to match his eye level. "You see that cake over there." You whisper and he nods. "Papi and I were going to cut it, but I think you should get the first slice."

He shrugs and you walk him over to the white cream frosted cake. You and Oscar help him hold the knife and carefully slide the blade into the spongey treat making one incision and you help him make another. He pushes the knife under to take the slice out and plops it on his plate, he reaches for a fork when he looks down to see the inside was blue.

Nobody spoke. Nobody moved with the understanding this was his moment. He looks up at you. "You're having a boy!?"

You nod with tears spilling over and ruining your makeup. "I am."

He puts the plate down and hugs you tightly and that's when the crowd goes wild. "Thank you, Mommy." He sobs which makes you cry even more. "Oh, you're welcome sweetie."

— — Nine months had sped past you and it seemed as if it was just yesterday that you found out you were pregnant. Now, you lay on a hospital bed, covered over by a few blankets to help with post-partum shivers, your jaw rattling and fingers dancing involuntarily. But that wasn't your main focus.

Oscar hovered over you staring at the sleeping newborn in your arms. He made the cutest noises while he nuzzled against your chest. Your finger ghosts over his nose and he reacts by moving his head and sighing. "Are you sick of me already, mi hijo?(my son)" You joke nudging him with your nose. "You get used to her." Oscar chimes in and you suck your teeth hitting him as hard as you could. "Cállate culo."(Shut up, ass)

"Hitting me in front of my son?"

"And I'll do it again."

He smiles and leans down to kiss you. "You know I like you a little feisty, mami."

You sigh, so in love with your new baby, in love with your husband— just filled with overpouring affection. You can't stop staring at your new son and your husband couldn't stop gazing at either of you. He'd been in this room over and over and he swore up and down you made it look so easy, that you looked like a goddess bringing new air and life into this world. Even though you thought you looked like a monster from the swamp.

Oscar tells you in a loving tone. "You're doing an amazing job, seriously, you... you're just amazing."

You blink rapidly to keep tears from spilling over. When you met this man he was so rough and tough, such a brute that it seemed impossible to get him to even admit that he liked you, but under all that fake-cold persona, was the gentlest giant and the biggest sweetheart you'd ever met—a man who spreads nothing but positivity around you and your children.

"I'm so happy, I met you." He mutters. You were his wife, the mother of his children and his best friend rolled into one and that's all he wanted out of this life. You look up at him with glossy eyes. "I'm happy I met you too."

You share a kiss as a tear slips out, you just can't hold them back any longer. He kisses your forehead as his thumb swipes over your cheek. Your attention is drawn back to your son when he begins wiggling in your hold, you press your nose against his hair taking a whiff of that fresh baby smell. As you soak in the presence of your child, your husband's phone buzzes against the fabric of the diaper bag, he looks over and your mom's name catches his attention. He looks to you for some sort of permission and your brows furrow together. "It's okay."

He rushes over to answer, and just then your nurse walks in with a smile on her face. "Just came to check on mommy and baby." She announces.

"Ok... yeah, I'll meet you guys downstairs... bye." Oscar hangs up and looks over at you. "Your parents are here, with the kids. I'll just be back okay?"

"Mhm." You hum. He gives you a quick kiss before he speeds out of the room. The nurse smirks as she helps you adjust yourself into a somewhat comfortable sitting position, asking you if you'd like your son to be put back in the bassinet to which you respond yes and she gently takes him. "I apologize if this is forward but... I've seen a lot of couples in here and let me tell you, I've never seen anything like you two. He is so attentive."

You giggle. "Thank you. I just got really lucky with him."

A few minutes had passed and she had finished her check-up letting you know that she'd be back in a bit for another check-in. Once she left that's when your family, quietly, barged in. Oscar approaches you first with a sleeping Rosie in his arms and you happily reach for her and coddle her in your arms. Rafael, Elliana and Emilia gently charged over to you, shuffling off their shoes and finding their places on the bed with you. You greeted them as best as you could, with restricted movement all you could do was reach for their faces. Your parents and Oscar stand in the background of it all observing you in your motherly nature and Oscar can't fight the grin that has been plastered on his face since the day he met you.

"Baby." Emilia chimes in drawing everyone's attention to her now. "Yeah, mira, mommy had the baby."

Rafael seemed enamoured by the presence of his new sibling. He loved his sisters, you knew that, but by the looks of it-- this would be a special bond. "Rafa, would you like to hold him first?" Oscar asks.

He nodded eagerly and readied himself by sitting up straight and folding his arms. Oscar removes your son from his bassinet and carefully places him in Rafa's arms. The baby was a bit squirmy, upset that he'd been disturbed but with the soothing 'shhhh' from his mother's lips he settled down. Your two girls surround their brothers with curiosity.

Emilia giggles. "Hi, cutie."

"He's so tiny," Eliana mutters. Your parents finally make their way over to you after letting you have your moment with the kids. They congratulate you and your dad holds up a Chipotle bag and you beamed. "Thank you, this hospital food sucks." You whisper.

They attempted to take Rosie from you but you assured them it was fine, having missed her snuggles anyway. "Want me to feed you?" Your husband asks and you snicker shaking your head. "Está bien papito, I'll eat when I'm ready. But thank you."

— — After all the kids had their turn holding the baby their attention spans had turned to you and their father, telling you everything that had happened since you left the house.

"And then Ellie licked the cookie and put it back in my bowl," Rafa whines and you hold back a laugh. "Eliana you do not do that, that's gross."

She shrugs and nuzzles closer to her grandfather on the couch who is causing a ruckus with all his snoring. Your mom nudges him awake and he hits his famous line, "I'm not sleeping, I just closed my eyes."

"Think it's time for us to go." Your mom says. "Um.." Rafa chimes. "Is it okay if I stay?"

"I- yeah, I guess so." You answer. Oscar says that you'll keep Rosie since she has now found a new sleep space in his arms. Your mom carries a sleeping Emilia and your dad carries Eliana on his back. They say their goodbyes and are out the door.

— —

The room is so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Rafael had fallen asleep on the couch while Rosie, who'd only woken up to ear and fell back into slumber, lay under her older brother's arm. You sigh contently as you gaze at them.

"Did you ever think when we met at that laundromat, that we'd be here?" Oscar mumbled as he held your baby boy, tracing his finger along his little nose. You turn to him. You shrug.

"Maybe with one kid... two.... But not five." You joked. He chuckled.

"Did you?"

He nods. "I knew you were gonna be my girl from the moment I picked up that sexy red bra you dropped-"

"Spookyyyy." You gasped gently hitting his arm.

He laughs. "Que? Man, once I saw those cups I started barking."

"You are so fucking stupid."

He shrugs. "I know. But I'm stupid in love with you."

You playfully rolled your eyes at his corny, yet sweet, line.

"I'm stupid in love with you too."

if you liked this fic feel free to like this fic. comments and reblogs are appreciated. hopefully, I'll be back a whole lot sooner. peace and love

tags: @darqchilddaydreamz @realhotgurlshit @skyesthebomb @librarian1002

Who might be interested: @miyahmaraj @bigenergy777 @educatorsareslutstoo @missdforever

[ravenelyx]

Hello! Do you take requests? If so I have oke for you :)

It’s similar to the recent one about Sebastian hugging the reader. Could it be with Omi this time?

I love your writings, btw.

I absolutely can !!! And thank you so much ♡♡

Let me in. - Ominis Gaunt

Pairing: Ominis Gaunt x Fem!Reader

Words: 1k

Warnings: fluff, kissing, angst and comfort, Ominis is touch-starved, Ominis is insecure, neck kissing, fuck the Gaunt family all my homies hate the Gaunt family, we all know Omi's past, cuddling and snuggling, House is not specified, (implied) established relationship

Summary: Ominis Gaunt has never learned how to love. But he has you, and you're willing to teach him.

A/N: I hope you like this!! I followed a different tangent than Sebastian's.

Masterlist

you can find the whole fic here on ao3 as well

Sebastian's version

He wishes love were easy.

But nothing had ever been easy in Ominis Gaunt's life.

When he opened his heart to her, he opened something deep. A Pandora box of sorrow and grief and everything he'd buried so deep he'd forgotten about it.

Unfortunately, his body never forgets. It shows when she takes his hand. It unleashes when she brushes his hair. That gnawing, scorching flame burning where her touch remains.

She asks him how he's doing, he doesn't answer, words trapped behind his teeth like in a prison of jelly and guilt. He thinks she doesn't really want to be bothered by his problems.

She takes his hand while walking, he moves it away, clutching it to his chest in an attempt to build back that armor she threatens to break every time.

"Ominis," she speaks quietly in the night, when he keeps her always at an arm's distance. "Please, come here."

He wants to cry.

"I don't know how."

The smell of her hair lingers on the pillow when she leaves, and he quietly brings it to him, burying his face in the softness of her girly perfume. Even then, he feels too much freedom; taking up a space that isn't his own. He turns his back to it.

She seems tired today.

"Ominis." Her voice is weary, sad. She's near the fireplace, brooding. He feels like he's done something wrong.

"What is it?"

He balks before approaching her, his voice coming out in a sycophantic squeak that makes his blood run cold. He is afraid: afraid she'll find him some day. That she'll offer her hand and he'll take it with no qualms, allowing her to pull him up, away from those doubts cramming his mind when she gets too close.

"Why do you never let me in?"

He's drowning.

Why? Why? The answer is immediate, pulled right from his brain by that tight awareness that has always been more of a curse than a blessing. Because Ominis Gaunt feels that he is phrogging in other people's existence until they get tired and throw him into the nearest garbage. Because he has never found a place where he could sit down, wind his legs and feel at peace. Because if one day someone finds him with his defenses down, when he hits the bottom of the bin headfirst, he will never forgive himself.

"I don't know how." His inveterate answer comes, drawing a sigh from her. She always drops the subject after, and he feels safe.

This time, she breaches the armor again, and he has got no time to glue it back.

"Come here."

His hands tremble when he follows, sitting down next to her. She opens her palm to him and he feels it on his leg.

"Take it."

Her fingers feel soft to the touch, slipping between his as if filling up a space in his heart he had missed, pushing back his doubts and making a home for itself. He holds her hand and runs his thumb on her knuckles.

"What does this mean?" He asks feebly.

"That you can do much more."

He feels the corner of his lips push down in a grimace. "I don't know h—"

"I'll show you."

Her movements are languid and elegant like a snake, and he feels like she might strangle him and cut his breath and leave him for dead. But he wants to keep holding her hand.

"What do I do?"

"Come here."

This time, he listens.

She lets him move first, wrap his arms around her, as if testing her shape. He runs his hands over her delicate ribs, then down to the soft curve of her waist, then around her; feels the weight in his arms, like she could crush him at any moment. But she doesn't.

She lets him pull her on him, giving him her body. His hands are shaking and he feels inadequate to hold her; to keep her safe and not let her fall.

"Just do what feels right," she whispers.

None of this feels right. But it feels comfortable, and it feels different, and it feels like his heart is slowing down and his weight is meeting the ground and pushing against it like he will never need to get up anymore.

And there are her lips. He feels them with his fingertips; the curve at the top, the soft flesh, the sticky texture of her lipstick. He brings his trembling mouth to hers for the first time and pulls away just as quickly.

"I'm sorry…" he almost cries again.

"Do it again."

He swallows and pushes his lips against hers. He doesn't have the courage to move and breathes against her mouth.

She giggles and his heart breaks, because of course he was doing it wrong. "I'm sorr—"

Her mouth moves against his, takes his bottom lip in a quick suckle and then frees it again. He holds his breath until he can't stay still anymore.

"How does that feel?" she asks.

"More…"

Something inside him cracks open at her taste, pushes and pulls and crushes him, and he holds on to her. It's all too much and it's all not enough. He licks his lips and tastes her lipstick and he wishes he could see her.

When she cups his cheek, he flinches.

"This feels…"

Horrible. Good. Terrifying. Perfect. Different.

"We can go slow," she says, and it's more than he could ask for. "But I'm here, and I'm yours."

He nods and attempts to find her, and he presses his forehead against her collarbone. She's warm there.

"Thank you," He's crying against her skin, and she skims her hand against his back.

He feels naked, a brush of cold hair against his chest where his defenses have cracked. She's pulling his armor down with a gentle touch, and he lets her until he hears it hit the ground loudly.

"You can relax now." He thinks he hears her say. Perhaps it was a dream. And when he hesitantly brushes his lips against her skin, he allows her in.

[maitadori]

WEAK WILLED KNIGHT part 3. nsfw. blade x fem!reader

word count : 4.7k

part one. part two. part three

summary : in which you miss blade since you haven’t seen him for two weeks and he decides to greet you with a breathtaking kiss and fucks you dumb.

content / cw : creampie, degrading, praising, fingering, breeding kink uhh idk that’s all i remember

a/n : this took days to post because i nitpick my writing literally all the time. i used a few of my fave smuts as reference for this so if u notice a similarity or two that’s why. anyways hope u all enjoy!!

DARK CONTENT BLOGS PLZ DNI

"is there something wrong?" jing yuan, once again, called you into his office. you found it odd that he was always absent yet conveniently there when you needed scolding.

during the weekly cloud knight training you got too drowned in your thoughts, causing your partner to easily take control of the duel— which was unusual, for everyone knew that you were one of the most adept among the knights, and to see you so out of form… it hasn't been just today this has happened either, ever since the run-in with kafka, you haven't been able to think straight.

it's come to the point where you were taken to jing yuan, that's when it hit you that this has gone too far. but what could you tell him? would you be able to admit to him that this man was the reason for your sudden downgrade in skill?

the mere thought of that idea had you recoiling. you were too prideful to admit that some man was making your mind so jumbled.

your silence seemed to be the exact answer jing yuan needed, you both hated and loved how well he could read you.

"maybe you should go home for the day."

"huh?" you question, perking up. "there's no need for that."

"it's obvious your mind is elsewhere, and it has been for over two weeks. i can't have you holding us back, [name]. this issue needs to be fixed. and if it means giving you a day to solve whatever this is, then so be it."

his words stung. holding us back...

you had to remember, before he was your friend, he was your general. you got too lost in the privilege of being special to him that you forgot what being under him as a subordinate was really like.

"i see..." you bowed your head, burning your gaze into the ground, trying and failing horribly to hide your emotions. "i understand, general. thank you for your consideration."

"he'll visit you." he suddenly spoke.

you jerked up, looking at your general with widened eyes. "w-what..?"

"you think that man can survive longer than two weeks without seeing your face?" jing yuan chuckled, crossing his arms.

you blinked, surprised, before you spoke in a shaky tone. "i'd like if you dropped the subject, general. i'll be taking my leave now."

he could only hum as he watched you leave.

you were quick to dress into something more comfortable as you tried erasing jing yuan’s words from your mind. you fumbled with your armor slightly, groaning in irritation. over the years, it wasn't too difficult to get used to the heaviness of your uniform, but it could still be a nuisance to you. yours was like sushang’s, lighter in weight than the average male, but you could still admit the clothing’s annoyance to you.

you approached your window, cracking it open and watched as it swayed your curtains. you could only sigh, lean against the window sill, and battle the crisis in your mind as you watched your people.

the kiss hasn't left your mind since it happened. as embarrassing as it seemed, you couldn't get blade out of your head. whether it be his haughty smirk, his voice, or his lips. you groaned and dropped your head in your hands. you didn't even notice how much it was affecting your behavior until someone as clumsy as sushang dominated the fight.

"that bastard... he has me wrapped around his stupid fucking fingers." you whispered to yourself in a low, angry voice.

for someone like blade— who before, you saw as below you— to make you feel such a way...

in front of everyone else, your pride was powerful, yet the sight of blade's face stomped it down in a mere second.

i miss him... you admitted to yourself. it was something you'd never say aloud. what the hell do i even miss...? even before the kiss, the only moments with blade were him trying his hardest to get under your skin and get reactions out of you. you'd never forget the time he grabbed your fingers through his cell bars to interlock his hand with yours.

all you could remember after that was blowing up at him, words jumbled as you tried to find an excuse for your embarrassment.

you shook your head back and forth in hope of ridding yourself of these thoughts. but even as you closed your window and laid in bed to sleep, the kiss made home behind your closed eyelids. you turned on your other side, hoping it was just you needing to get comfortable. but you felt no drowsiness.

"dammit.." you groaned to yourself, pillow tight in your grip.

you squeezed your eyes shut, trying the hardest you could to put yourself to sleep, even if forcefully. all you could think of was blade and what he was doing. and it wasn't until a full seven minutes later that your body finally decided to give you the pleasure of slumber.

noises that were lost on your sleeping form resonated through your bedroom. the squeak of your window was loud, it had you shuffling in your sheets. blade at first, tried to quietly sneak through the window after finding your front door locked before deciding not to care. you didn't keep your door unlocked like he instructed, so if you woke up, that was only your karma.

but then the thought of a possible intruder getting into your house and faltered. his steps became lighter. he neared your sleeping figure and looked at you. he wanted nothing more than to disturb your sleep and kiss you breathless. but when he took another look you looked as if your sleep was exhausting you more than replenishing you. you tossed and turned, eyebrows furrowed. maybe you were having a nightmare.

well, kissing could come after. your wellbeing came first. his hand caressed your face with the intent of soothing you, yet you only jolted awake. it was dark outside, the sun finally set. you could only see your room from what the moon decided to illuminate.

but your eyes adjusted to the dark and you instantly recognized the familiar silhouette standing above you. "b-blade..?" you asked, voice still heavy with sleep.

he only hummed in response as he climbed to hover over you, not hesitating to get his face near yours. your breath started going off track instantaneously. you lazily put your fingers over his lips, trying to feebly stop him from coming any closer. he was already making your heart going crazy enough by simply being here and letting you wake up to the sight of him, you didn't need the pounding of your heartbeat resonating in your ears next.

"i-i'm not dreaming, right?"

in response blade pinched the skin of your waist that your ridden up shirt exposed. you squeaked in pain. "what the hell!?" you whisper shouted.

"you're not dreaming." he said, tone soft. you hated admitting that the sound of his voice soothed you.

blade grabbed your wrist easily, removing your hand from his face to push it against your bed, and gently laid you against your pillows with his own body, leaning over you. his hair draped over you like a curtain, leaving you with nowhere to look but him.

any earlier resistance disappeared and you gave in the second his lips brushed against yours, going lax on your bed. the hand that held yours squeezed tighter, his other hand traveling up to hold your cheek. you leaned further into him once his lips finally met yours, giving you that sweet relief of having him against you once more.

even if you tried denying your feelings, they were apparent to blade, who could easily see through you. him and jing yuan were definitely rivaling in that aspect, and you weren't sure whether or not you hated it.

he moved the hand the held your face to your back, arching you up into him. you could tell from the way he was biting your lips and caressing his tongue with yours that this might escalate. and as he kissed you even harder you admitted to yourself that you wouldn't mind if it did.

his harsh kisses were definitely waking you up from your slumbered daze, it was then that the events that transpired earlier today seeped into your mind, causing you to lose your confidence in the kiss. blade must've noticed, for he pulled away to speak, "what's wrong?"

"why... do you even like me?" you asked in a trembling voice, deciding to be straightforward. if you thought about asking him for a second longer, you would've lost the will. plus, the question has plagued your mind for awhile and you needed answers. it’s not as if you were opposed to blade taking after you, but you couldn’t understand exactly why.

he hovered over you, moving his hand and letting your back ease into the mattress to tap the back of his index finger against your lips. "there's a lot of reasons why. but one... i like seeing the different expressions you make. whether it be when i make you angry, your brows furrow and you pout your lips, and you don't even notice." he whispers, and even in the dark you can tell he's smirking.

"or... when i kiss you and you get that desperate look on your face."

desperate!? excuse me!? you screamed in your head, flushing.

"why do you ask?"

you look away, too humiliated to say a word, but you speak up anyways, "no reason. just curious..."

blade observed you, he was good at reading people. it must've came with the job. your expression was very telling, and the fact that you were having a nightmare before he arrived was a huge factor as well.

"i like you."

it was random, and it had you sputtering, but it immediately helped assure your worries. you knew blade most likely figured out what was up, or he wouldn't have said something like that out of nowhere. though, before you could savor his words, he spoke up once more.

"can i touch you?"

would he cut it out!? if he kept saying and asking things like that so boldly you'd probably explode.

"you're already touching me..." you say snottily.

"you're right, which means i basically have permission." he whispers, loosening his hold on your hand to travel down to your thighs, spreading them open sharply.

you gasped, immediately using your free hands as leverage to cover your expression.

"look at me." he demands.

"..." you peek at him through your fingers, body going weak once you catch sight of his expression. his face is so full of want, and his face adorns a small cocky smirk. you hated how it made the heat between your legs increase. you know you shouldn't be into the way he stared at you, but you really couldn't help it.

"i'm gonna touch you, okay? will you let me?"

"do whatever you want..." you reluctantly relent.

blade ignored your attempt at veiling your actual needs and traveled his fingers higher up your thigh, tugging on your bottoms. "take these off.." he mutters.

you listen and does as he says, so he lifts himself sightly to give you space to slide your shorts down your legs. he grabs them for you and throws them aside, in a rush to get his hands on you. he rubbed your bare thighs, caressing higher up, thumb catching onto the hem of your panties.

"you said i can do whatever i want, right? i'm gonna hold you to that, we might not even leave this bedroom," he says casually, not noticing your flushed expression as he continues to ramble, "you don't know how long i've wanted this. haven't seen you for days." he hisses. "ever since i kissed you, i've been thinking about your lips since."

you wrap you arms around his neck quickly, tipping your head to the side the second his lips touched your collarbone.

his admittance had your mind hazing with a heavy blanket of need and want. words started spilling out of your mouth before you could even stop yourself. you whispered desperately, "me too..! i can't stop thinking about you.. so much to the point where it's hindering my work.. why'd you take so long to come and see me?"

blade's control is wearing thin at your whiny voice, he groans out, "my job doesn't really give me leeway. but god, i wanted to see you so bad, you don't even know." he leaves light butterfly kisses from your neck to your jaw, his thumb rubbing circles into the skin of your thigh.

then he tugs at the hem of your shirt. "i want this off, too." next thing you know, the only thing covering you are your undergarments, but you could tell from the way he kept caressing you near your panties that those would soon join the pile.

once he threw your top aside, you bring his face to yours, instantly interlocking your lips. it was the first time you took initiation and blade couldn't help but smile into the kiss. his hand ventures higher, hands intentionally swiping over the place you needed him most before pulling back to caress your hips.

you grunt into the kiss in irritation, trying to pull his body closer to you to get that friction you crave.

blade notices, and wants to tease you more than anything, but he couldn't deny how much he missed you. once you finally let him kiss you, he swore he couldn't get enough. had you not avoided him for a good two weeks he could've had moments like this with you before his work swept him away. and going two more weeks without you made it even worse. blade could only think of how it was true that distance certainly did make the heart grow fonder.

blade uses his kiss with you as a distraction and slips his finger past your undergarments to finally touch you where you craved. you instantly pull away from the kiss with a gasp, your back arching up slightly as you whined aloud.

"so pretty." blade muttered, placing kisses on your shoulder before pulling away to watch your expressions. he could feel how his erection tightened his pants uncomfortably at the mere sight of you drowning in pleasure. "another expression to add to my list." he whispers, eyeing your face with a carnal, predatory hunger.

blade slides one finger into you and stares at the way you twitch and thrash. "w—waaait..!!" you moaned, trying your hardest to catch your breath. he ignores your pleas and speeds up the pace, slowly adding in a second finger.

with your reactions, he could tell how sensitive you were. he could only grin and think about how fun teasing you in future will be.

blade curled his fingers in a way that had you keening and flailing, trying to kick him away. he put a hand on your abdomen to still you. "nnn...noo..! if you.. hngg.. keep doing that... i'm- i'm definitely soaking the sheets..." you whimpered in a whispery voice. in response to you, he starts rubbing your clit in circular motions, your cries becoming louder.

"promise?" he kissed your cheek.

you whined more and blade buried his face in your neck, conveniently placing his ear right by your mouth. a perfect place to hear your noises at full volume. that was before you decided to go and try to cover your mouth.

the muffled noise of your cries let him know what you were trying to do immediately. he sits up to glare down at you, slowing down the pace of his fingers.

“w—what..?” you cry out, confused.

“let me hear you. if you do that again, i stop,” his voice is commanding and it has your legs trembling. you obey him easily. helplessly under his mercy, and remove your hands from your face.

“good.”

he leans down to kiss your face and continues his previous pace. you cry out in relief, feeling your peak climbing its way up.

"you'd look so pretty wrapped around me, you know?" he speaks into your skin. you whimper at that.

the rhythm of his fingers made you a moaning mess, you couldn't help but thrash and kick, the pleasure all too overwhelming— but it still wasn't enough. you desperately needed what he had hiding behind his zipper.

"cum for me..." he coos softly into your ear, voice condescending yet fond at the same time.

"i— i want..."

"i know..." he cuts you off, "i'll stuff you with my cock like you want, just cum on my fingers first." he rasps, letting you know he was enjoying this just as much as you.

he curls the pads of his finger against a certain spot that makes you jerk in his hold. a loud moan leaves your lips and you try your hardest to push him away. blade doesn't give you the chance, keeping you stilled against the bed, thrusting into you even faster. your vision goes white and the brunt of your orgasm hits you full force, you whine loudly and try your best to push blade away, weakly hitting his forearm with your fist. he helps you ride out your orgasm by rubbing your bud, watching you with a hot, burning desire. his control is on the verge of snapping. if you keep making these noises and faces he can't guarantee he'll continue being gentle with you.

"haa...hahh.." you pant loudly, chest rising up and down. “dammit, i definitely ruined that pair.”

you're too distracted to notice blade undressing himself, only opening your eyes to look at him once you hear the unbuckling of his belt.

"blade..." you cry.

he hushes you with his lips, adjusting your position once his bottoms are off— joining the pile of your clothes. you squeak at the sudden breeze of cold air once blade starts sliding your garment down your legs.

“you’re so soaked. fuck.” he mutters breathily, eyes dark. your cunt pulses at the realization that his expression isn’t only because of lust but also him trying his hardest to hold himself back.

you’re both surprised and slightly disgusted with yourself because you’re aware that if he were to snap and be extremely rough with you, you wouldn’t mind— you’d even enjoy it.

“i said you could do whatever you wanted with me, right?” you lean up and unclasp your bra, tossing it aside— you’d usually be humiliated by such boldness, but you were too busy reveling in blade’s awed expression— for once it felt like you one-upped him.

“i suggest you watch your tongue.” he grumbles, and you couldn’t help but smile to yourself. you’re obviously riling him up, and enjoying it to the fullest.

“but i need it, blade. you promised you’d give me your cock, didn’t you?” you whined, fully aware of your effect on him.

he huffs, shoving you down on the bed to loom over you again, before hissing, “remember who has the authority here.”

you only smirked cockily, a face blade could admit that he really liked. “well maybe you need to remind me,” you say cheekily.

blade, in response, pulls his cock out of his boxers, and it shuts you up immediately; the mere sight of it. he caught sight of your eyes glued to his length and could only smirk.

“maybe i didn’t need to remind you.” the words of ‘you reminded yourself’ went unsaid, but you both knew.

he leans down to interlock your lips and starts grinding himself against you.

there’s no way that’ll fit!! you screamed internally, it’s not like you were inexperienced, but you can say with confidence you’ve never laid with someone so well endowed.

your mind hazes as his tongue delves into your mouth, and you can’t bring yourself to worry.

the tip of his cock catches your clit and you both groan.

“stop teasing.” you complain, brows knitting together.

blade pulls away to pump himself a couple times before finally lining himself up to your slit. he sets a heavy finger right above your belly button, pressing it into your skin.

you eye the indent he creates in confusion. you try to catch his eyes but he can’t seem to pull his gaze away from where his finger is placed.

“here.”

“huh?”

“i’ll be right here.” he taps the spot again as if solidify his words into reality. you flush once you realize his implications, and as much as you wanted to knock him down a peg, you knew he was probably right. with how big he was you’d probably be able to feel him in your throat. your breaths become labored at the idea of it all, anxiously waiting for him to fill you like he promised.

“give me a safe word.” he says, voice guttural.

“red!” not only did it mean stop in a lot of circumstances, but it also reminded you of his eyes.

with that being said, he pushes himself into you, burying himself in to the hilt. your eyes roll back and you grip his biceps to ground yourself.

“you can take all of me, right?” he asks huskily, grabbing your hips for leverage and setting his forehead against yours.

“i can i can, i can!!” you chant out dizzily, on cloud nine from this alone.

“good.. so good for me.” he whispers through gritted teeth. he pulls out till the tip, groaning at the harsh resistance. it’s either you were too tight or he was too big. he assumes it’s because you’re squeezing the life out of him but you’re guessing otherwise.

he abruptly thrusts all the way back in, slamming you against his pelvis. you jerk in his hold, tears lining your bottom lashes as you sob loudly.

blade repeats the process, but this time with more ferocity. your mouth waters at the intensity of it all, eyes rolled back to your brain. he catches your expression and decides he won’t have mercy on you as he previously insisted.

the only thing leaving your lips is a mantra of his name as he starts a rhythm. he doesn’t spare you a single breath, his own lungs drying up and in desperate need for air— because he’s just so deep.

he slams into you harshly, your clit rubbing onto his pelvis with each grind into you, your sobs resonate through the room and your legs twitch violently.

“fuuuckkk! blade blade, blade!! cant! i cant.. i— nnnn!!” your nails dig into the muscles of his arms, making crescent shaped dents.

“you can. you promised, right? you’ll cum for me just like this, right sweetheart?” he coos condescendingly.

the mean tone of his voice is lost on you, for all you can think about is the term of endearment— you squeeze him harder.

“shitttt.” blade groans at the sensation. he grabs your face desperately, locking lips with you to hide his noises. it’s a sloppy kiss, your own drool slipping down your chin. you can’t even focus on the raunchiness of it all, the way he slams down into you— tip of his cock kissing your cervix— you can’t bother to think of anything else. you moan breathily into the kiss, hands gravitating to blade’s back to let your nails make their mark there.

“you like that, huh? when i call you sweet names? tell me you like it, baby,” he says, lidded eyes trained on you.

“i love it!”

his hand travels between your bodies to make circular motions on your clit, other hand massaging your breast, and you swear you see white. squeaky little ‘blade blade, blade!’s come out of your puffy, swollen lips.

“want me to cum inside you? give you my kids.. let them keep you company while i’m gone. you’d like that, yeah?” he pulls away from you slightly to babble senselessly— his mind mush, and mouth running on auto pilot. his words set a fire off inside you, and the knot in your tummy tightens further, on the brink of snapping.

“yes yes, yes!” you sob, your nails raking up and down his back.

“course you’d like that. look at you, my little cocksleeve. you were made to take my cock, admit it.” he grabs your face with one hand, squishing your face together. your moans take on a different tone at his degrading.

“i was.. ohhhh— i—” you couldn’t even finish, the tip of his cock kissing and stroking your sweet spot. blade doesn’t like your lack of answer, so his hips slow their pace, dropping to mere strokes.

“n—no, what..?” you blink out of your daze, your pleasure riddled mind slowly coming to.

“answer me, i asked you a question.”

desperate to get the pleasure you were quickly becoming addicted to, you obey his needs without another word.

“i’m your cocksleeve! i was made just to take your cock. so please! use me!” you cry out in little to no hesitation.

“fuck.” he mumbles. before you can exhale you’re immediately inhaling from the shock of his abrupt, sharp speed. he’s drilling into you harshly, lifting your legs and arching your back to hit your sweet spot with each thrust. his thumb finds your clit and your mind instantly blanks.

the quickness of it all quickly overwhelms you and your orgasm climbs the ladder with quick succession. you’re sobbing now, nails making red lines on his back as he pounds into you.

you can feel him in your stomach. and you knew if you were able to keep your eyes open, you’d be able to see it too.

“please let me cum, i wanna cum!” you cry out brainlessly.

“fuck. fuuckkk. cum, pretty thing. cum on my cock so i can cum deep inside you.” he buries his face in your neck, kissing dark purple blemishes into your skin.

his voice does you in, the roughness of it all, and the fact that he sounds just as wrecked as you. you’re only able to give a whiny warning of, “cumming— i’m cumming!! ohh god!!” before you finally burst. your body convulses brutally and you squeeze blade in a vice grip, punching out a guttural groan from him.

the feeling has blade reaching his peak before he can even compose himself. his hips stutter and he’s slamming into you, gripping your hips harshly — which will definitely leave bruises— and his finger rubs your clit to help you ride out your high.

“fuck fuck, fuck. fuuuckk. i’m gonna fill you up just like you want. make you round with my kids. gonna give it all to you. you’ll take it, right? you’ll take it all, i just know it,” he chants, mind blank.

“please, blade— ohhh goddd, please fill me up!!” you sob, tears running down your cheeks.

one last slam of his hips has him filling you up to the brim. more more, more— until his burning hot cum squelches out of you and drips onto the sheets. it prolongs your orgasm and you’re whining at the feeling. small praises leave blade’s lips as he leaves small kisses all over you.

he sits up and slowly pulls out of you, watching, entranced, as all of his cum slowly seeps out. with an empty mind that’s only filled with the image of you, he puts his fingers in your cunt to plug you up and prevent anything else from draining out.

a spike of pain and pleasure shoot through you. your mind starts clearing and you squeal, “hey!!”

he meets your gaze, eyes your messy form, and says simply, “sorry.” he pulls away.

blade hated that you looked so good that way. your body riddled with sweat, brows furrowed, lips pouted (that expression he loved so much), and hair mussed all over your pillows.

you can’t tear your eyes away from how he stares at you. this time, you notice the fondness that swim in his irises and your tummy flutters. your lips curl into a sweet smile and you speak to sweep away your embarrassment, “you’re really obsessed with me.”

blade’s eyes widen, and you assume it’s because of your words; but you couldn’t be any more wrong.

this is the first time you’ve smiled like that in his presence. he couldn’t deny that he loved your other faces, whether it be anger, prideful, lust, you name it. but this one… it was definitely his new favorite.

you predicted he’d say something along the lines of, “i am.” and make you further embarrassed. but if anything, he said the opposite.

“spread your legs.” he orders simply.

you blink at him, noticing his eyes that filled with desire once more.

“y—you can’t be serious!!!”

taglist : @chalksdreams @bloo-wisteria @maddymints09 @just-simping-over-genshin @xiaowatching @sunsethw4 @caesadele @forsh4dow @i-x4o @shrimp-anon some of u i couldn’t tag sorryyyyy ☹️