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miihho · 9 days ago

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Can you please write type of guy headcanons for dae ho and gi hun 🥺? Thank you ❤️

THE KIND OF GUY

(squid game edition boys) nsfw

Dae ho / Player 388

— DAE HO IS THE KIND OF GUY who radiates warmth and loyalty, like a golden retriever. When Dae ho saw you effortlessly take down the two bullies harassing someone else, his eyes gleamed with admiration, captivated by your strength and resolve. As the crowd erupted in applause, he couldn’t help but feel an even deeper respect for you. In that moment, you earned not only their admiration but his as well. (His crush on you was developing gradually.)

—He's the kind of guy who blushes whenever you're near, his nerves getting the best of him as he stammers while talking to you, laughing awkwardly. It's all because you're so sweet to him—and to everyone else, too! He can't help but adore that about you.

—He’s the kind of guy who genuinely wants to get to know you better, not just the surface-level details, but the little things that make you who you are. He asks questions with true curiosity, listens intently, and cherishes every story you share. To him, understanding you isn’t just about filling in gaps—it’s about building a connection that goes beyond the ordinary.

—He’s the kind of guy who secretly gives you his food. One day, after returning from your bed, you noticed some milk on it. Curiosity piqued, you wondered who could have left it there, but hey, free milk, right? So you drank it. If he saw you enjoying it, he'd be totally happy inside, his heart warming at the thought of you drinking it. But if you didn’t, and instead gave it to someone else, he'd feel a little sad, pouting as he quietly watched from afar.

— He’s the type of guy who daydreams about you even in his sleep, a soft smile playing on his lips as he imagines taking you out on a date, giving you flowers, and writing you heartfelt letters. He’s kind and sweet, but also shy around you.

— He’s the type of guy who supports you wholeheartedly, cheering you on through every victory. He wishes and prays that you’ll make it through the next game, and when you do, his heart swells with happiness. He desperately wants to run up to you, hug you tightly, and lift you off the ground, spinning you in the air while admiring you. But his nerves hold him back. Instead, he smiles shyly from a distance, watching as others celebrate your success, his joy quietly battling with his anxiety as he longs to be the one to congratulate you.

—He’s the kind of guy who admires you from afar, his heart skipping a beat every time you smile. When you're talking with your teammates, he can't help but stare at you lovingly, a soft smile creeping onto his face. But when Jung Bae notices his smile and asks about it, he panics, nervously brushing it off as nothing. If Jung Bae catches on to who he's looking at, he’d tease him, leaving him blushing and flustered, unable to hide his feelings.

— He’s also the kind of guy who would protect you no matter the cost. One night, when it was time to sleep, he stayed watch over you, ensuring your safety. In the process, he nearly put himself in danger, but managed to take care of the threat. Just as he thought it was over, he noticed someone about to ambush you from behind. Without hesitation, he shouted your name.

“Y/n!” he called out, grabbing your attention. As you turned to face him, he ran toward you, tackling you to the ground just in time to shield you from a knife aimed at your back. He placed a protective hand on your head, his heart pounding in his chest.

After dealing with the person who tried to harm you, he was consumed with worry, his concern for you evident in every glance. His hands trembled as he checked for any injuries, his eyes scanning your body for bruises. When he finally saw you were okay, relief washed over him, and he couldn’t help but smile, saying softly, “I’m glad you’re alright, Y/n.”

— He’s the kind of guy who, when you're speaking to him, finds it hard to hear anything at all. You're simply glowing, and he's so completely lost in admiration for you, smiling without even realizing it. When a strand of your hair falls across your face, he can't help but gently tuck it behind your ear. The moment you look up at him, his heart skips a beat, and he suddenly becomes acutely aware of what he’s done. Flustered, he starts to stutter out a flurry of excuses, his nervousness betraying him. But all you do is laugh softly, calling him "cute." That single, simple word sends his heart into a frantic race, leaving him breathless and unable to shake the warmth spreading through him.

—He’s the kind of guy who would go to any length to protect you, even if it means hurting the people who’ve hurt you. He’ll keep going until his fists bleed, unable to stop because his care for you runs so deep. He doesn’t want to see you in pain, and his love for you pushes him to act without thinking of the consequences. Even when you beg him to stop, he’s torn, unable to hold back the intensity of his emotions. But deep down, you know that right? That he just cares for you more than anything.

—He’s the kind of guy who’ll do whatever it takes to cheer you up when you’re feeling down. When you're crying, he'll be right there, comforting you with soft, reassuring words like, "I’ll be here for you," and "It’s okay, everything’s going to be alright." He’ll pull you into his arms, wrapping you in a warm embrace, rubbing your back gently as he holds you close, offering a quiet strength that makes you feel safe. His presence is enough to ease the weight on your heart, as he promises to always be there for you, no matter what.

—He’s the kind of guy who, when in love, will sneakily try to get closer to you, even if it means "accidentally" bumping into people in the crowd. Just being near you makes him happy, and the slightest touch from you sends a thrill through him. If your eyes meet by accident, he’ll hold your gaze for a second, but then quickly look away, his face turning bright red with embarrassment. When he tries to glance at you again and you catch him, his heart races uncontrollably. He’s sure he even heard you chuckle, and in that moment, he can’t handle it anymore—embarrassed and flustered, he tries to hide in the shadows, wishing he could escape how you make him feel. (You have no idea how much you’re making him nervous.)

—He’s the kind of guy who would shower your face with kisses, making you giggle and laugh, completely captivated by the joy he brings. He’s also the type who’s hopeless at flirting, but he still gives it a shot, despite knowing he’s not great at it. When he catches you staring into his eyes, his confidence crumbles, and he can’t find his words, stammering as his mind goes blank. And when you laugh, a soft, teasing chuckle, it only makes him more flustered, his heart racing as he awkwardly tries to recover, unable to stop the warmth spreading across his face. (ARGEUWHRAHHH)

— When he's in a relationship with you, he's the kind of guy who'll ask for a good luck kiss before every game you play together.

—He’s the kind of guy you’ll wake up to, his comforting voice gently pulling you from your sleep. “Good morning, baby,” he’ll say, his smile already softening his features. “Morning, sunshine,” or “Good morning, sweetheart, did you sleep well?” he’ll ask, his voice warm and full of affection as he watches you slowly wake up.

—He’s the kind of guy who would tenderly kiss the places you’re most insecure about, as if to remind you of how beautiful you truly are. He’s the one who won’t stop kissing you, pulling you back every time you try to pull away, as if he can’t let go of the warmth you bring.

—He’s also the kind of guy who craves you in the purest, most innocent ways. He craves the chance to say goodnight and press a soft kiss to your forehead, to tell you how much he adores you, especially when you feel at your lowest. He doesn’t need anything more or less—just being near you, sharing quiet moments together, is all he could ever want.

—He’s the kind of guy who kisses you slowly, with so much passion that it feels like time itself has paused. To him, every moment matters, and he wants to make it last—pressing his lips softly against yours, savoring the closeness. His eyes remain closed, his hands resting firmly on your waist as he pulls you closer, as if he can’t bear to let go. When he finally pulls away, his gaze locks with yours, filled with love so deep it leaves you breathless. And just when you think it’s over, he leans in to kiss you again.

—He’s the kind of guy who would stay outside your house all night the moment you mentioned your parents weren’t home. You said it in a teasing, seductive tone, hoping he’d catch the hint—but instead, his protective instincts took over completely. Without a second thought, he made it his mission to ensure your safety. The cool breeze and late hours didn’t faze him; his only focus was making sure nothing could harm you.

—He’s the kind of guy who values your comfort above all else, always asking for your consent to ensure you’re at ease. When you overstimulate him, soft whines and gasps escape his lips, his breathing uneven as he tries to handle the intensity. He’s incredibly careful, his fear of hurting you evident in the way he constantly checks in, asking if you’re okay. If you show even the slightest discomfort, he immediately stops, gently comforting you with soothing words and touches. Only when you’re ready does he proceed, moving slowly and tenderly.

—He’s the kind of guy who would be endlessly obedient for you, hanging on your every word just to make you happy. When you call him a “good boy,” his cheeks flush a soft pink, and he can’t help but feel a swell of pride, as if earning your praise is the greatest accomplishment. The way he gets all shy and bashful in response only makes the moment sweeter.

—He’s also the kind of guy who whispers a breathless “please” when you tease him, his voice trembling with both desperation and longing. When you refuse to let him cum, he’ll keep pleading, his tone growing needier, begging you to finally let him release cum since you've been edging him for hours straight.

—He’s the kind of guy who moans a lot and would be needy for you. Like he's breathy and full of unrestrained moans as pleasure overwhelms him. His voice, low and husky, spills out between gasps as he murmurs how good you feel. For example.

In the cramped confines of a public bathroom stall, he tries desperately to not make a sound. His trembling hand rests on your head, fingers tangling in your hair. He was desperately trying to keep quiet, not wanting anyone outside the stall to discover what you were doing. But you decided to tease him, to push him just a little further. Holding his gaze, you slowly ran your tongue over the tip of his cock, maintaining eye contact that had him on the verge of losing all composure.

“Baby, please...” he begged, his tone barely audible but dripping with raw desperation. His hips bucked slightly, seeking more friction, his body betraying how badly he needed release.

You smirked, letting your lips hover over his slick, aching member, your warm breath teasing his already overstimulated skin. “Hm? What’s that?” you teased, maintaining a deliberate slowness. “You’ll have to speak up.”

His head fell back, and a quiet whine escaped him, “I can’t—please, I need it so bad baby, please let me cum... Want you. I want you so bad.” he whimpered, the faint sound of his soft, needy whines filled the stall, his breathing uneven and ragged as he clung to what little composure he had left. His head tilted back against the wall, his lips parted, and his cheeks flushed as he whimpered softly.

His chest rose and fell in shallow breaths, his flushed face and sweat-dampened skin making him look utterly undone. The way he squirmed and whimpered under your control had you tempted to keep teasing him, but his broken whispers and the raw adoration in his eyes made you relent.

"hng...—oh fuck," he gasped, his breath uneven as you gave in at last. "Your mouth feels so good baby, so damn perfect, fuck keep going just like that baby." His praise spilled out uncontrollably, barely coherent as you pushed him closer and closer to the edge.

—Hes also the kind of guy who cries during sex. (Something about men crying is just hgnngjdhe)

“Baby, please stop..” he whimpered, his voice trembling with the weight of his plea. “It’s too much… please, it’s too much.” His hands weakly gripped your waist, trying to stop you, but his body trembled with each movement, and yet there was no escape from the overwhelming pleasure.

“Aww, sweetie,” you cooed, not slowing down. “Just one more round, mkay? I know You can handle it for me."

“N-no, please… it’s too much… I don’t think I can…take it,” he said, his tear-filled eyes locking with yours, his flushed face streaked with the weight of his emotions. The sight of him so vulnerable made your heart ache, and without hesitation, you gently wiped away the tears rolling down his cheeks with the pad of your thumb.

“Aww, don’t cry my love,” you whispered softly, your voice tender as you leaned in, brushing your lips against his forehead. “You’re my good boy, right? You’re doing so well for me. Just a little more, baby.”

“Fine… just one more.” he said, his voice soft and shaky. The way he melted under your touch, still willing to give more despite how overwhelmed he felt. (You made him cum multiple times 🫶🏻)

I decided to do dae ho first cuz he cute(⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠) HAPPY NEW YEAR

#squid game smut #squid game x reader #squid game fanfic #squid game #dae ho x reader #dae ho #smut #fanfic #squid game season 2 #x reader #kang dae ho #headcanon #player 388

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xhyjin · 1 month ago

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husband gojo! who turns into “the neediest” after a long day of being “the strongest” the moment he walks through the door. his blindfold or glasses are tossed aside because, to him, you’re no sight for sore eyes; he wants nothing obstructing his view of you. he’s immediately all over you, clinging to you like a lifeline. and when you groan, “toru, i need my personal space,” he only grins and murmurs, “i need your personal space too, baby,” before wrapping his long legs around you, nearly making you stumble and fall with him still stubbornly attached, laughing like it’s the best part of his day. (it is)

husband gojo! who, ever since you baked him a birthday cake once, fell head over heels for your baking. now, it’s a tradition; he refuses to have a birthday cake unless it’s made and decorated by you. this extends to his sweet tooth cravings too; whenever he comes across random dessert recipes on his phone, he immediately sends them your way with an innocent “doesn’t this look good?” even if you’ve never seen or heard of the dessert before. he’ll hover around the kitchen, sneaking peeks and stealing tastes, grinning like a kid because there’s nothing sweeter to him than something made by your hands.

husband gojo! who absolutely loves when you spend his money. it takes you a while to get comfortable using it because you feel bad, but he always reassures you with a grin, “my money is your money, sweetheart. it’s all gonna be spent on you anyway.” he gets genuinely excited when you come home from a shopping trip or when packages arrive at the door, practically glowing with pride. seeing you spoiled and happy makes him feel like he’s doing something right. his favorite part, though, is when you give him a haul, showing off everything you bought and trying on all your new clothes just for him. he’ll sit back, arms crossed with the biggest smirk on his face, and say, “damn, I knew my money looked good on you.”

husband gojo! who is so, so, so protective of you that sometimes he just wants to keep you home, away from the outside world, where nothing can touch you. he’s spent his whole life as nothing but a weapon for jujutsu society, and all he wants now is to keep you safe, to shield you from everything. when you’re out together, his arm is always wrapped securely around your waist or draped over your shoulder, a silent reminder to everyone that you’re his to protect. dates are rarely in public—he prefers private, intimate places or the comfort of home, where he knows you’re safe in his arms. he’ll even insist on teaching you self-defense, but the lesson always ends the same: him pinning you down, a smirk on his face as he attacks you with kisses, murmuring, “looks like you’re still defenseless against me.”

husband gojo! who quite literally steals your entire personality. the moment you say a new phrase or pick up a habit, he’s quick to latch onto it, memorizing it like it’s second nature. by the next day, he’s already using it effortlessly, as if it’s always been part of his vocabulary. when you catch him doing it, he just shrugs with a small grin, “what can I say? you’re my favorite person—I can’t help it.” he admires you so much that your quirks and habits naturally become his own.

husband gojo! who sometimes tries to scare you in the mornings by hovering over you, his face so close that the first thing you see when you open your eyes are his deep blue eyes staring wide into yours. it always makes you jolt awake, your hands flailing as you instinctively poke or smack him in surprise. he’ll laugh, completely unfazed, pulling back just enough to grin down at you with a playful, “good morning, sleepyhead. miss me?” even when you scold him for nearly giving you a heart attack, he just chuckles, pressing a kiss to your forehead like it’s the most natural way to start his day.

husband gojo! who, just like he steals your personality, also steals your scent and fashion. if you have a favorite perfume, he’s either hunting down the “manly” version of it or shamelessly spritzing yours when you’re not looking. and when it comes to clothes, he’ll buy the exact same pieces you own—just a few sizes bigger so they suit him. it’s not even subtle; he’ll walk out wearing a sweater that’s just like yours, grinning proudly when you notice. “what? we match. it’s cute,” he says, completely unapologetic, because to him, there’s nothing better than being a reflection of the person he loves most.

husband gojo! who’ll dye a small streak of his snow-white hair your favorite color just to surprise you. he keeps it subtle and tucked away, hidden so well that no one else would even notice unless they were running their fingers through his hair—and no one gets that close but you. sometimes he changes it when your favorite color shifts, always paying attention to the little details that make you smile. when you do find it, gently brushing his hair aside, he grins at you softly and says, “figured I’d keep a piece of you with me.”

husband gojo! who genuinely tries his best to make time for you, despite how often he gets called away for missions. sometimes days pass without him seeing you, and the distance wears on him more than he'd ever admit. when he finally comes home, the moment he sees you, he's on his knees, pressing kisses to every inch of your body, mumbling softly between each one about how much he missed you. "missed you so much, baby... couldn't stop thinking about you," he whispers against your skin, his voice laced with exhaustion and love. it's in moments like these-when he's been deprived of your warmth and attention-that he starts to second-guess being a jujutsu sorcerer at all. because no mission, no battle, could ever compare to being with you.

husband gojo! who drops everything the second he steps through the door after a grueling three-day mission, exhaustion forgotten the moment he sees you standing there, holding out a small gift box. confusion turns to shock as he opens it, and inside, a positive pregnancy test. for a moment, the world stops; his heart races, his breath catches, and then it hits him: he has a family now.

husband gojo! who doesn’t even hesitate. right then and there, he decides he can’t be both a sorcerer and a father. he refuses to miss a single pregnancy milestone, a single moment with you or his child, because of his work. the next day, he quits. the elders, the Gojo clan, they can pester him, manipulate him, lecture him about “duty” and “protecting the country,” but he won’t budge. “It’s my duty to protect my family,” he’ll say firmly, his hand resting on your growing belly. no one will take him away from you and the life you’re building together.

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mephisto-reporting · 3 months ago

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Husband?

About: How does he react when you accidentally call him your 'husband'? Pairing: Reader x Xavier, Zayne, Rafayel, Sylus (Seperate) Note: Reader and the men are in a relationship. My inbox is open for prompts and requests :)

RAFAYEL

The evening was going smoother than expected, considering Rafayel had dragged you along to one of his many gallery showings. He had made a big deal about how you should be the one showing off his work to the public, claiming he didn’t want to deal with the “art-snobs." Yet, the second you both arrived, he quickly preoccupied himself on his phone, leaving you to handle most of the small talk.

One of the visitors, a curious older woman, was admiring a painting of his, a chaotic burst of color with soft hints of golden light. You were discussing Rafayel’s "creative process" (whatever that was—he hadn't told you much before retreating to his phone), when she asked how long you’d been working with him.

“Oh, it’s been a while now. It’s honestly amazing seeing him grow like this—my husb—” You froze mid-sentence, realizing the slip just as it left your mouth.

"Husband?"

The word hung in the air for barely a second before you felt Rafayel’s presence shift. His head shot up like a bolt of lightning, his playful, cunning eyes locking onto yours. You could practically feel his grin before you even dared to glance over. You didn’t even need to turn around to feel his gaze burning into you, practically shouting, Oh? Husband, you say?

“Husband, huh?” Rafayel drawled, pocketing his phone and sauntering toward you with that signature smirk of his. “I didn’t realize we were making things official tonight. If I’d known, I’d have worn something even more dazzling.”

You flushed, attempting to stammer out a correction, but he was far too pleased to let you off the hook that easily. He leaned casually against the gallery wall, one arm crossing his chest as he dramatically placed a hand over his heart.

He gently took your hand in his, his dramatic flair dialed up to maximum as he pressed an exaggerated kiss to your knuckles, clearly relishing the moment. "I mean, I can’t say I’m surprised. Who wouldn’t want to marry someone as charming as me?"

The visitor chuckled awkwardly, clearly not sure whether to stay or go, but Rafayel was already having way too much fun. “Of course, as your loving husband,” he continued, drawing out the word in a singsong voice, “it’s only fitting that I’m showered with even more attention now, isn’t it? I expect lots of praise, darling. I mean, just look at me." He struck a faux thought-provoking pose, tilting his head and flipping a lock of his perfectly tousled hair.

You felt your cheeks burn with embarrassment, but at the same time, his antics made you laugh. “I didn’t mean to—"

"Oh no, no,” he interrupted, wagging his finger playfully. “You can’t take it back now. The word’s out, Miss Bodyguard. You’ve called me your husband. That means you’re stuck with me. Forever.” There was a mischievous glint in his eyes as he leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a teasing whisper. “Does this mean I get to cheat at board games forever too?”

You groaned, rolling your eyes as you playfully swatted at his shoulder. “As if you needed a reason to cheat more!”

Rafayel laughed, that familiar bratty grin plastered across his face. “Well, if I’m your husband now, I think it’s only fair I get first dibs on everything. Cards, claw machines—oh, and don’t forget, I demand the comfiest seat when we binge-watch our shows.”

Despite his teasing, the warmth in his eyes made your heart skip a beat. You could see the genuine delight he took in your slip-up, how pleased he was at the thought, even if he’d never admit it outright.

“Fine, fine,” you sighed dramatically, playing along. “But don’t expect me to let you win at everything, ‘husband.’”

Rafayel beamed, and for a moment, that bratty, carefree mask of his slipped, just a little. He tugged you closer, his voice softening as he murmured, “Deal.” Then, just as quickly, he switched back to his usual, cheeky self. “Now, let’s go, wife. You’re required to be by my side while I survive this boring night. ”

Shaking your head, you laughed, unable to hide the smile creeping onto your lips. “You’re impossible.”

The woman, watching the scene unfold with a warm smile, laughed. “You two make quite the pair.”

“Oh, we do, don’t we?” Rafayel quipped before lowering his voice just enough for only you to hear, leaning in ever so slightly. “You’ve really outdone yourself, calling me that in front of witnesses. Now they’ll all expect a wedding invitation.”

Your face burned as you tried to shush him, but he was loving every second of it. He tilted his head, his hair catching the light as his smile softened into something more genuine, the bratty exterior fading just a bit. “Still… I can’t say I hate the sound of it,” he murmured, brushing a finger lightly under your chin before pulling back with a playful wink. “I might just get used to hearing it.”

You could only manage a huff of exasperation, but deep down, you couldn’t help but feel a flutter at the way his teasing had just a hint of sincerity behind it.

Rafayel, always dramatic, and yet somehow, just when you least expected it, a little bit sweet.

ZAYNE

You and Zayne were in the middle of your usual weekly grocery run, efficiently dividing and conquering your list to save time. He’d taken off towards the produce section while you headed for the rice aisle. As you browsed the different varieties, a middle-aged man beside you struggled with lifting a heavy bag of rice.

"Need a hand?" you asked, stepping in to help. The man smiled gratefully as you hoisted the bag into his cart with ease.

"Thank you, young lady," he said, rubbing his wrist. "My arthritis is flaring up today. Getting old’s no fun."

You offered him a sympathetic smile. “No problem at all. My husband’s a doctor, actually. I’m sure he’d tell you to take it easy on that wrist."

The man nodded in agreement, offering you one last thanks before heading off. You turned back to your cart, completely unaware of the word you had just let slip—husband—or the fact that Zayne had returned in time to hear it.

You felt him step up behind you, his presence calm yet undeniably magnetic. When you finally glanced over, he was standing there, hands in his pockets, a small, amused smile playing at the corner of his lips.

"Husband, hmm?" he said softly, his tone more curious than teasing. "That's... new."

You froze for a second, eyes widening as you realized what you’d said. You opened your mouth, the words tripping over each other in a rush. “I didn’t— I mean, it just—slipped out. We’re not actually—I mean, obviously, we’re not—” You could feel the heat creeping up your neck, and no amount of backpedaling was helping.

Zayne didn’t seem in a rush to let you off the hook. His hand found yours, fingers intertwining with an ease that made your heart stutter. “You know,” he said, voice as calm as ever, “if this is your way of bringing it up, there are smoother ways to do it.” His teasing was subtle, barely perceptible if you didn’t know him well, but it was there in the gentle tug of his smile.

You groaned, pressing a hand to your forehead. “Zayne, I didn’t mean to—”

But Zayne, ever level-headed, merely took your hand in his, his thumb gently brushing against your knuckles. “Relax,” he said, his voice low and soothing. “It’s not like I mind the idea.”

Your heart skipped a beat at that, and you looked up at him in surprise. There was a softness in his usually stoic gaze, the kind that made your stomach flip. He continued, his voice measured but affectionate, “Seems like the next logical step, doesn’t it? My parents have been asking me when I’m going to take that step with you for a while now.”

His calm tone made the statement feel both casual and monumental at the same time. “Wait, your parents…?” you started, blinking as your brain processed this new information.

“Mhm,” Zayne replied, still holding your hand as though it was the most natural thing in the world. “They’ve been pretty vocal about it, actually. But I’ve been waiting for the right moment.”

The right moment. Those words hung in the air, and you could feel the weight of what he was saying. He was serious—calm and casual, as always, but serious. Your breath caught, and for a moment, the world around you seemed to fade into the background. It was just you and Zayne in that grocery aisle, hands linked, talking about a future you hadn’t even realized you both wanted.

“Only if you wanted to, of course,” he added, his thumb still tracing soft circles on your hand. “I wouldn’t do anything unless we both agreed.”

You stared at him, a smile slowly spreading across your face despite the initial shock. “You’re really suggesting this now? In the middle of a grocery store?”

Zayne smirked, his usual pragmatic self. “Well, we’re already talking about it. Might as well make use of the time.” He glanced down at your joined hands, his tone softening again. “Besides, I think it’s worth discussing what our future looks like, don’t you?”

Your heart swelled at his words, and the warmth of his hand in yours was enough to make you feel grounded, no matter how your emotions were spinning. “Yeah,” you said, smiling as you squeezed his hand gently. “I think it’s definitely worth talking about.”

Zayne leaned in closer, his lips brushing your temple in a rare public display of affection. “Good,” he murmured, his voice filled with a quiet kind of affection that made your chest tighten. “We’ll talk more later.”

He pulled away just as smoothly, picking up the cart with a practiced ease, as though he hadn’t just suggested the two of you start planning your future together. His eyes twinkled, a subtle tease hiding behind that usual calm exterior of his.

“And for the record,” he added, as the two of you moved on to the next aisle, “I wouldn’t mind hearing you call me ‘husband’ again.”

Your cheeks heated again, but this time, you didn’t bother trying to hide your smile. “Guess you’ll have to earn it first, doctor.”

Zayne chuckled softly, that familiar, grounded confidence in his voice. “I’ll be sure to work on that.”

SYLUS

The desert sun was relentless, and you could feel its heat pressing down on you as you stood beside Sylus, waiting to be seated inside the restaurant. He had dragged you out of Linkon on one of his mysterious ventures—no explanation, no warning, just the two of you thrust into the desert with little more than his cryptic directions. And while Sylus might have thrived in the N109 Zone's shadowy world, he was decidedly out of place here in the glaring sunlight,already starting to show hints of discomfort.

You glanced over at him, squinting slightly under the bright light. His expression was carefully controlled as always, but you noticed how his hand twitched subtly as if annoyed by the heat. The two of you had been waiting to be seated inside for a while now, and you decided it was time to speed things up.

Catching the attention of a passing waitress, you waved her over, putting on your best expression of concern. “Excuse me, my husband and I were hoping to be seated inside. I’m feeling a little faint under the harsh sun,” you said smoothly, the lie of you feeling faint rolling off your tongue with ease.

The word husband had slipped out so naturally, you didn’t even realize your mistake until the waitress nodded sympathetically and promised to get you a table indoors right away. As she walked off, you felt a cold gaze slide over you, and you turned to see Sylus staring down at you, one brow raised, a slow, dangerous smile creeping across his face.

“Husband?” His voice was smooth, but there was a teasing lilt beneath it. “Did I miss a wedding, wife?”

Your breath caught in your throat. "Wait—no, I didn't mean—" You started to stammer, heat rising to your cheeks, but before you could backtrack any further, Sylus’ arm slid around your waist, pulling you closer to his side. His grip was firm, possessive, and you could feel the smug amusement radiating off of him.

“I like the sound of that,” he murmured, leaning in just close enough for you to catch the scent of the desert air still clinging to his clothes. His lips ghosted near your ear, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. “Maybe this is a sign I should make it official.”

You swallowed hard, heart racing as you tried to keep your composure. “Official?” you echoed, your voice coming out a little more breathless than you intended. “What—what are you talking about?”

Sylus’ smirk widened, his amber eyes gleaming in the sun. “Oh? Cat got your tongue, Sweetie?” he teased, his tone dripping with amusement as he let his fingers trace a light circle on your hip. “You seemed so sure a moment ago, wife. But now? Speechless.”

You blinked, trying to gather your wits, but the sheer cockiness in his tone was making it hard to think straight. “I…I was just…helping us get a table,” you protested weakly, trying to pull away from his grip, but his hold only tightened.

“Oh, I’m sure you were,” he drawled, clearly reveling in your flustered state. “But now that you’ve set the bar so high, don’t tell me you’re going to back out on me. After all, you made quite the declaration back there.”

“I wasn’t—” You huffed, narrowing your eyes at him as you regained a sliver of your usual confidence. “You know it was a slip-up, Sylus. Don’t start getting ideas.”

He chuckled darkly, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. “Ideas? Sweetie, I live for ideas.” His grip loosened just enough to let you step back, but the way he looked at you made it clear he wasn’t about to let you wriggle out of this one easily. “But let’s be honest, you didn’t hate it. Calling me your husband.”

Your face flushed again, but this time, you managed to meet his gaze without faltering. “I didn’t hate it,” you admitted, folding your arms, “but don’t go thinking you’ve won. I’m not about to sign any papers just because you liked hearing it.”

Sylus tilted his head, the playful smile never leaving his lips. “We’ll see about that, kitten” he said, the threat—or promise—hanging in the air between you as the waitress returned to guide you inside.

You rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach. “Please, Sylus. You couldn’t handle being married to me.”

He raised an eyebrow, leaning in with that infuriating smirk. “Oh, I think I could handle you just fine, sweetheart. You’re the one who might need to keep up.”

You shot back, “Keep up? I’d be carrying you the whole way.”

“Careful, Sweetie. That sounds an awful lot like a challenge.” He chuckled, his hand brushing against yours again. “Now that’s a tempting thought.”

“Tempting? Try exhausting,” you quipped.

As you walked beside him, you felt his arm brush against yours, and the sensation lingered far longer than it should have. Sylus, of course, said nothing, though the smug expression never quite left his face.

This was clearly far from over. And judging by the glint in his eye, Sylus was going to make sure you never forgot your little slip-up.

XAVIER

The café was quiet, filled with the soft murmur of patrons and the comforting smell of fresh pastries. You and Xavier had settled in for a peaceful afternoon, your table already adorned with a delightful array of treats. He had requested a simple drink—no whipped cream. The barista returned, placing his drink in front of him with an impressive mountain of whipped cream on top. Xavier, as calm and indifferent as ever, simply blinked at it, showing no signs of complaint. He wasn’t going to say a word about it, but that didn’t mean you were going to let it slide.

Excusing yourself, you raised a hand and called over a passing staff member. “Excuse me,” you began, with a polite smile. “My husband asked for no whipped cream on his drink, but it looks like there’s some here by mistake. Would it be alright for us to get it changed?”

The words tumbled out so smoothly that you didn’t even realize your slip-up until the staff member nodded apologetically and hurried back to fix the order. It was only when you turned back around that you saw Xavier sitting there, looking unusually... stunned.

He was blinking slowly at you, his expression softened by a hint of confusion and—was that amusement? “Husband?” he repeated, his soft voice barely more than a murmur.

Your face flushed as you fumbled for an explanation. “Oh, no, wait—! I didn’t mean—” You stammered, desperately trying to backtrack. “That just slipped out! I meant to say…uh my boyfriend? Partner? Date? Not—well, not husband, obviously…”

Xavier continued to blink, his face now showing just a little more expression than usual. The faintest curl of a smile played on his lips, and he tilted his head, considering your words. “I must’ve missed that chapter in the 'Guide to a Healthy Relationship,'” he said in that calm, unruffled way of his. “I didn’t know we’d moved on to the husband-and-wife stage.”

You groaned inwardly, burying your face in your hands. “I swear, it was an accident. Just ignore what I said.”

But Xavier was clearly in no mood to let it go. “So, dear wife,” he continued, completely unfazed by your protests, “do you think we’ll have matching mugs in our future? Maybe get a nice house, with a small garden and a picket fence?”

You shot him a playful glare, but the way he was looking at you made it impossible to stay annoyed. “Very funny,” you muttered, though your lips were twitching at the corners, betraying your amusement.

“I think it has a nice ring to it,” Xavier said, leaning back in his chair, clearly enjoying this far more than you expected. “I wonder how long it would take for people in the association to start sending us wedding gifts. Or perhaps they'd just send weapons... you know, as a gesture of goodwill.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “I don’t think wedding gifts are really their style, Xavier.”

“Hmm, you’re probably right,” he said thoughtfully, then leaned in slightly, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “But you did call me your husband in public. Shouldn’t we at least play the part now?”

Your cheeks were burning, but you couldn’t resist playing along with his ridiculousness. “Fine,” you said, crossing your arms and raising an eyebrow. “But just so you know, dear husband, you’ll be the one doing the dishes.”

Xavier chuckled softly, the sound rare and surprisingly warm. “As long as you take care of meals. A fair trade.”

You were about to retort when the waitress returned with Xavier’s newly corrected drink—this time, free of whipped cream. She set it down with a smile, glancing between the two of you as if she’d picked up on the playful atmosphere. “Here you go,” she said. “No whipped cream this time, sir.”

Xavier’s eyes glinted as he thanked her with a nod, and after she left, he looked back at you with a satisfied expression. “See? Husband perks,” he teased, taking a sip of his drink.

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t hide the smile spreading across your face. “You’re an idiot.”

“And you’re adorable when you’re flustered,” he said, the teasing lilt in his voice gentler now. He took your hand under the table, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “But... thank you,” he added after a beat, his voice softer and more sincere. “For speaking up for me.”

You blinked at him, momentarily thrown off by the gratitude in his tone. “Of course,” you said, squeezing his hand in return. “That’s what wives do, right?”

Xavier let out a soft laugh. “I suppose so,” he murmured, his lips quirking into a rare, genuine smile that made your heart skip a beat.

In that moment, with his hand in yours and the gentle teasing in the air, it was easy to forget the world outside the café. Just the two of you, playing pretend—but maybe, just maybe, something more.

AN: reblogs, feedback and opinions are appreciated!

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emmyrosee · 10 months ago

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The sky is pink in my neck of the woods guys ☹️🫶🏻

—

“Sukuna! Kuna- baby, look-“

“Wake me up, and I’ll have to kill you.”

Sukuna doesn’t know what time it is, and he doesn’t care. All he knows is it’s far too early for your nonsense, nonsense you’re always willing to subject him to.

All that he’s willing to listen to.

“But- but Sukuna,” you whine. He feels you leave the bed, and he makes a blind reach to try and keep you to the warmth of the covers to no avail. He grumbles in annoyance and moves to hike the blankets up and over his head, blocking out your noise and the sunlight coming in.

“It’s pink outside…”

He grumbles and pulls the blankets from his head, “huh?”

“It’s pink!” You giggle, genuine joy in your voice. “The sky, it’s making everything look pink! The trees, the houses, the cars-“

“Yeah, got it, shits pink,” he grumbles, sitting up and stretching deeply. “Take a pic and come back to bed.”

“Don’t you want to come look at it with me?” You pout.

He could kill you. He could! Honestly, with how obnoxious you are, he wants to.

But he knows, deep down, he won’t. Because you ask him to come look at the pink sky at who knows what time in the morning. Because you stole a cookie from his plate last night, and you popped a blackhead on his nose when he was talking to Yuuji on the phone yesterday. Because you cling to him like a koala and smother his bony cheeks in kisses, and you sit on his lap to block his view from the tv, and you take the cheese off of his pizza to eat it.

Because you’re you. And you’re not going to change, and he loves you for it.

With a grunt, he yawns and turns his head to look at you, perched in front of the window. Your body is carved in the pink light, your face turned to him expectantly. You look ethereal, a pure soul sent to him specifically, with your bottom lip jutted out and your eyes curved, flashing him your best set of puppy eyes.

He swings his legs over the bed and stalks over to you, smacking his lips and wrapping an arm around you once he approaches you. You nuzzle into his chest and press a kiss to his pec before turning your gaze back outside, fixating on the pink.

“It’s literally 5 am,” he says, breaking up the peace.

“It’s so pretty,” you mewl, and Sukuna looks down to admire you.

“Sure is, babe,” he hums, gently rubbing his thumb over your shoulder.

“Sure is.”

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rafecameronssl4t · 6 months ago

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Golf day || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Summary: INSPIRED BY THIS TIKTOK

Warnings: pure fluff hehehehe

Word count: 497

A/n: if anyone has any tiktoks that they want me to turn into a Rafe fic, send them thru pls!!!! I love finding random vids on my fyp that are so Rafe coded. ALSO BEGGING FOR MORE DAD!RAFE REQUESTSS

MASTERLIST (dad!rafe au masterlist)

divider by @h-aewo

“Do you think she’ll enjoy it?” Rafe questions, turning his head to you, his eyes lingering on Mabel, comfortably nestled on your lap. He looks genuinely concerned, his brow furrowed with worry.

“You know she loves watching you do anything,” you reply with a reassuring chuckle, trying to soothe his anxiety. As you adjust the tiny hat on your daughter’s head, you can’t help but smile at her innocent excitement.

It was Mabel’s first time at the golf course, and Rafe had been on edge all morning. He’d peppered you with questions like, “Don’t you think it will be too hot?” and “What if she gets bored?” His nervousness was palpable, a stark contrast to his usual composed demeanor.

You had spent the morning reassuring him, reminding him repeatedly that Mabel would be perfectly fine. You knew she would be thrilled just to watch her dad play golf, her eyes following his every move with awe and admiration.

“Do you think she’ll like this spot?” Rafe asks as the golf cart comes to a gentle stop under the shade of a large oak tree. “Babe, you’re the one playing,” you giggle, enjoying his overprotectiveness. Rafe laughs softly, his eyes crinkling with amusement. “Mabel, do you like it here?” he asks, his voice tender as he tickles her chin. Mabel responds with a delightful giggle that melts your heart.

You adjust Mabel on your lap so she’s facing Rafe, her wide, curious eyes tracking his every move as he unloads his golf clubs. The sun casts a warm glow over the course, and you can’t help but admire how handsome Rafe looks in his golf gear. “Doesn’t Daddy look so handsome, Bels?” you murmur to Mabel, pressing light kisses on her rosy cheeks. She giggles uncontrollably and tickling sensation.

Rafe turns at the sound of her infectious giggles, a broad smile lighting up his face. “You girls doing alright?” he calls out, his eyes sparkling with joy. You chuckle, giving him a thumbs-up and lifting Mabel’s tiny hand to wave at him.

Remembering that Rose wanted a video of Mabel’s first time at the golf course, you quickly pull out your phone and aim the camera at Mabel’s expressive face. She’s watching Rafe intently, her anticipation palpable.

As Rafe lines up his shot, you can see the concentration etched on his face. The moment the club makes contact with the golf ball, sending it soaring through the air, Mabel flinches in surprise. You can’t help but laugh, immediately clamping your hand over your mouth, feeling a bit guilty for laughing at her reaction.

Rafe shields his eyes with his hand, squinting into the distance to see where the ball landed. Satisfied with his shot, he turns back and walks towards you and Mabel, a broad smile lighting up his face. “Daddy’s pretty good, isn’t he?” Rafe chuckles as he reaches you, gently lifting Mabel from under her armpits and pressing a loving kiss on her round cheek.

You quickly snap a photo of the sweet moment. Their joy is infectious, and you can’t help but chuckle as you send the video and picture to Rose. Mabel’s earlier reaction to the sound of Rafe hitting the ball plays in your mind, making you smile.

Rafe notices your amusement. “What’s so funny?” he asks, his curiosity piqued as he sees you smiling at your phone. You glance up, grinning, and show him the video of Mabel’s startled reaction to his golf swing.

“Aww, I’m sorry, babygirl,” Rafe says with a laugh, his eyes softening as he watches the video. “I’ll let you know when I’m going to hit the ball next time.” Mabel, already captivated by her dad’s presence, giggles and reaches out to touch his face, her earlier surprise forgotten.

Rafe’s heart melts as he cradles Mabel in his arms, swaying gently. “You’re my good luck charm, you know that?” he murmurs, his voice filled with love. Mabel coos in response, her tiny hands grasping at Rafe’s shirt.

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nochepsicodelica · 5 months ago

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Toji who leaves hickeys all over you so often that you have to push him away when you start looking like you fought an octopus.

"Toji, you know these aren't always gonna be so small. They're gonna end up looking like bruises. Just look at the ones you already left."

"Mhm," he hums, already leaving another one on your shoulder blade, releasing your skin with a wet smack of his lips. He rubs his spit into the mark like it's some sort of salve that'll make it last longer.

"I'm fine with these," you say, looking at all the one's he left on your chest and below. "but my neck... i'm running out of makeup, baby. I won't be able to cover them if you keep this up."

"Then don't." He would just love that. Despite how nonchalant he sounds about it, it's a highly recommended suggestion. He would genuinely love it if you walked around with his marks all over your neck. People will automatically know that you already have someone you get freaky with.

"I have to go to work sometime. I wouldn't be able to take having my neck stared at by everyone I talk to. No more neck hickeys."

He nears your neck, again. The second you say he can't put another mark on it, he spots a clear area and leans in, lightly pressing his lips against it.

"Tojiii," you whine, leaning forward, away from him. "Leave it alone."

"But, it's clear. It's lonely without being marked like the rest of your neck." He scoots forward again, putting his enormous hands on your waist to pull you close. "I'll be quick. Just-"

"Mm-mm. No," you interrupt, brushing his hands off of you.

"I might just die if you don't let me do this, ma."

"Really?" You raise your brows in disbelief.

"Really," he responds, so confidently.

You scoff. "You're so dramatic. You won't die if you don't get to suck on my neck."

"Who knows? I might spontaneously collapse because of it. Weirder, more unexplainable things have happened."

He's so dumb sometimes. Your hunk is absolutely ridiculous, and yet you find yourself weighing towards his point in this.

"Would marking up that blank space actually cure you?" You feel as silly as him for asking the question.

"Who's to say?"

You tilt your head and deadpan. "Right. I guess i'll take my chances and just keep the random patch of unmarked skin on my neck."

"Hey, that doesn't mean we can't try. Come on, now."

You groan and roll your eyes before making your way back to him. He cups your cheeks, smirking as he looks into your eyes, before turning your head to expose the blank area on your neck.

"It's a reaaally good spot, doll. I think i'm gonna make it."

You huff, unable to look at him because of the way your head is turned. You feel his tongue slide over your neck, the gesture transitioning to his lips kissing the area and then it feels sharp. His lips leave a stinging sensation with every second that they stay on you.

"Ow, fuck, you vampire. It feels like you're actually trying to suck the blood out of me." You wince. "Are you done?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'm done." He admires his masterpiece and smirks with pride. You have an entire collar of hickeys that he put on you, and the newest one looks mean.

"You look pretty. Could eat you up, mama." He swipes at the new mark with his thumb, looking at the color that will remain on your skin for the next few days.

"I can tell. You already devoured me. You're insane. Just look at all of this," you say, running your hand over your kiss stained neck.

"I was just nibbling on you," he speaks, into your jaw, before smoothly laying you down, onto the bed. "Just wanted a little taste," he says, taking your hands in his and pinning them above your head. "Am I really insane for that?"

"Um..." you laugh, making your flustered state obvious. "Yes?"

"Damn." He gives you a long, deep kiss, that makes you forget what you were talking about. "You think i'm crazy?" You hum, and he does it again.

"Haven't you played with me enough? I feel like i'm some chew toy for you." You giggle, feeling his lips on your cheek, trailing towards your jaw.

He hums, dismissively. "Found more blank space."

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