#he's ✨️over dramatic✨️

[dollyswishingwell]

Hiiii!! It's me again 🎀✨️...I suddenly got an idea. Like let's say Mc is watching a drama or reading a novel and the male lead is sooo good that she goes "omg..please become my husband" y'know fangirly mode. And how will the guys react to that! All that possessive jealousy and fluff..if you don't mind writing this. I feel like only you'd do this a justice 😭😭🎀

ᯓ★ˎˊ˗ Second husband

𝒲𝒾𝓈𝒽 𝑔𝓇𝒶𝓃𝓉𝑒𝒹 𝒻𝑜𝓇 ˙⋆✮ Rafayel, Zayne, Xavier, Sylus, Caleb

𝒢𝑒𝓃𝓇𝑒/𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔 ˙⋆✮ fluff, this is for allll the fangirling requests i got

> ࣪𖤐.ᐟ You fangirl over your fav male lead

𝙍𝙖𝙛𝙖𝙮𝙚𝙡 °‧🫧⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

You’re sprawled out on your velvet chaise in one of the sun-drenched sitting rooms of Rafayel’s estate, a sheer lace robe over your lacy lingerie, sipping something sparkly while flipping through a romance novel. It’s so dramatic, an aloof villain-turned-devoted-husband who’s rich, cruel to everyone else, but worships his wife like a queen. You’re giggling and kicking your feet like a true fangirl.

“Oh my god… Please become my husband,” you sigh, absolutely swept away, clutching your chest dramatically. “That’s it. I’m getting a second husband.”

And Raf, who’s been lounging on the opposite couch sketching a seashell-inspired frame for your new vanity mirror, freezes.

His pencil snaps in half.

“…Second what?”

His voice is so sweet and singsong, but that slight twitch in his smile is dangerous.

You blink innocently, teasing, “Well he’s just soooo charming, cold and powerful but secretly soft for her? That’s sooo my type. If he proposed I’d say yes right away—!”

You don’t even finish before he’s already on you. Drops his sketchpad to the floor with a thud, climbs over you like a wave crashing the shore. One long leg on either side of you, his arms trapping you as he leans down, eyes glittering like an angry sea under moonlight.

“Oh?” he whispers, brushing your cheek with his knuckles. “So now I’m not enough for my precious housewife?”

You giggle and squirm but he’s already attacking, playful nips to your neck, fingers tickling down your sides, his cold rings trailing fire over your thigh. You’re squealing now.

“A second husband, huh? Should I call the movers again and have your whole wardrobe burned? Maybe he can buy you another. Or should I drown him instead?”

He’s so dramatic, so possessive, so pouty. You’re laughing but he’s growling like a feral cat, burying his face in your tummy like it personally betrayed him.

“You’re mine, pretty thing. Say it.”

You pout and whimper dramatically back, “I was joking Raffyyyy…he doesn’t even exist—!”

He just kisses your pout, deep and slow, like he’s trying to overwrite any memory of that fictional man.

“Then don’t say such cruel things again,” he mumbles against your lips, “or I’ll have to become even more fictional. Watch me rewrite your whole novel into just me.”

And from that moment forward, Every time you even glance at your novels, Raf’s there peeking over your shoulder like:

“Is he stronger than me? No. Prettier? No. A better husband? Hah. Let me know when he buys you a castle with hand-carved pearl bathtubs.”

And god forbid you giggle again. He’s instantly pulling you into his lap like:

“What did he say? Hm? Repeat it. Actually, don’t. I’m jealous enough already.”

𝙕𝙖𝙮𝙣𝙚 ⋆꙳•❅‧*₊⋆☃︎ ‧*❆ ₊⋆

You’re curled up under a plush throw in Zayne’s private library, your tablet in hand and a steaming cup of tea beside you, courtesy of your ever-doting husband. He’s sitting across from you, going through patient charts, pristine in his dress shirt and slacks, glasses perched on his nose.

But you? You’re emotionally spiraling.

Because your favorite manhwa just updated.

And the male lead? A cold, overworked surgeon with a tragic past who’s secretly obsessed with the female lead. He just shielded her with his body during a building collapse, confessed with bloody lips, and called her his “only cure.” You let out a gasp so dramatic it actually makes Zayne look up.

“Are you alright?” he asks, clinically calm.

You clasp your chest with both hands. “Oh my god… please become my husband,” you whisper at the screen, eyes shimmering. Then louder, just to tease him:

“That’s it. I’m getting a second husband.”

Zayne blinks once. Then slowly sets his tablet down.

“…Excuse me?”

You peer up with a tiny smirk. “You wouldn’t understand, Dr Zayne. He’s just… so selfless and cold and obsessed and hot—”

He’s already standing.

Zayne walks over calmly and plucks the tablet right out of your hands. Doesn’t even look at the manhwa. Just sets it down and gently pushes you onto your back on the sofa, bracing himself above you with the quiet, unreadable expression he always has during surgeries.

“You want a second husband,” he repeats, tone flat. “Interesting.”

You can see the tiniest twitch in his jaw. Oh no. He’s jealous.

“You do realize,” he murmurs while running a slow hand up your thigh beneath the blanket, “if this fictional man really knew you, he’d see how easily you cry when you run out of syrup for pancakes. How you hum when you brush your hair. How you sneak cookies after dinner. You think he would handle you well?”

You’re already blushing and squirming but he’s so composed. So focused. His hazel-green eyes narrow, calculating.

“He wouldn’t know how to keep your iron levels up or how to ease your migraines. He wouldn’t know your skin’s exact sensitivity or the cadence of your breathing when you’re overwhelmed.”

Zayne’s voice drops lower, surgical smooth.

“But I do. I know everything about you. And if you ever ‘joke’ like that again…”

He kisses your cheek once, so gently. Then leans to whisper in your ear:

“I’ll prescribe you a month of tech detox. No manhwa. No tablet. Only me.”

You squeak and immediately start apologizing, hugging his neck and whining that you were kidding, and he hums with a smug little smile.

“That’s what I thought. You don’t need a second husband, sweetheart. You need to hydrate, and keep your hands off delusional fantasies.”

But the next day? He’s mysteriously started wearing black gloves and an open white coat at home. Like the manhwa ML.

And when you ask if he’s copying the character you liked so much?

He adjusts his glasses coolly and says:

“No. He’s clearly imitating me.”

𝙓𝙖𝙫𝙞𝙚𝙧 ⋆⭒˚.⋆🪐 ⋆⭒˚.⋆

You’re wrapped in a mountain of silken blankets on the oversized bed in your penthouse, the air dim and cozy with the faint smell of candles and tea. Xavier is curled up beside you, half-asleep with his face buried against your shoulder, his breathing soft and even.

But you?

You’re kicking your feet and squealing because you’re rewatching your favorite historical drama, the one with the stoic general who sacrifices everything for the princess he loves. He’s got blood on his armor and tears in his eyes and he just said:

“Even if I must burn the heavens and betray the throne, I will protect you.”

You clutch your chest, eyes wide and glossy. “Oh my god… please become my husband.”

You gasp and press your face into your pillow dramatically. “I’ll marry you in every timeline. That’s it—I’m getting a second husband.”

You hear the soft rustle of sheets behind you.

And then—

“You’re already married in every timeline.”

Xavier’s voice is quiet, almost sleepy, but his arms are already tightening around your waist, dragging you back into his embrace like you belong there. His silver hair tickles your neck as he nuzzles close, no trace of emotion on his face, but you can feel the pout in his grip.

“Why would you want another husband?” he mumbles, as if you’ve just wounded him deeply. “Do you want a sword next time? Or a war horse? I can bring one.”

You giggle and try to turn back to the screen, but he rolls with you, pinning you beneath him with lazy, catlike precision.

“No,” he says simply. “No more watching.”

You gasp, “Xavi! It’s the final battle—!”

But he rests his head on your chest and closes his eyes again. “It doesn’t matter. He dies. I read the synopsis.”

You blink. “You what?”

He doesn’t answer. Just holds you tighter.

“He’s fictional. I’m not. And I don’t need a palace or a title or a horse to ruin the world for you. Say you’ll only have me.”

You pout, playing along. “Even if a general prince confesses with blood on his lips?”

He opens one blue eye.

“Even if a god kneels in gold, you are mine.”

You squeal and kiss his forehead, and he hums happily like you’ve given him all the reassurance he’ll ever need.

But after that, Xavier becomes very aware of every historical drama you start.

“Is he stoic again?” he murmurs one night, kissing down your collarbone. “Cold and devoted? I can do that too. I’ll rewrite history if I have to.”

Possessive Xavier doesn’t yell. Doesn’t scold. He just clings. Sleeps wrapped around you tighter. Kisses your hands like you’re his queen in exile.

And casually says things like:

“If I were born then, I’d be the one hiding a blade in your hairpin. I’d bury empires for you.”

𝙎𝙮𝙡𝙪𝙨 ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𓅨⋆｡°✩

You’re lounging in your marble soaking tub, bubbles up to your shoulders, wearing that expensive silk headband Sylus bought just to keep your hair out of your eyes. Your tablet is propped up on a gilded stand, and you’re deep in your reread of your absolute favorite manhwa, the one with the cold, terrifying Duke who rules the north, never smiles, murders nobles with his bare hands… and then turns into a love-crazed fool for his sweet wife.

And this chapter?

He just broke off an engagement, kicked in a ballroom door, and declared in front of the entire empire:

“She belongs to me. Touch her, and I’ll erase your bloodline.”

You slap the water. “OH MY GOD. PLEASE become my husband—”

And then you giggle, teasing under your breath like a brat, “Honestly… I should just get a second husband. A Duke, like him.”

You hear it. That sound.

A slow, deliberate click of a door opening.

You peek up over the rim of the tub.

Sylus is standing in the doorway, sleeves rolled up, hair slightly damp from the rain outside. His eyes glow that eerie crimson and he tilts his head as he speaks, voice low and silken:

“What was that, princess?”

You blink. “Oh. Um. Nothing.”

He’s already stepping closer, loosening his cufflinks as he watches you with that quietly unhinged little smirk.

“You were comparing me to a fictional man again, weren’t you?”

You shrink a little. “Well, he’s cold and terrifying and secretly romantic—”

He drops to a crouch beside the tub, hand dipping into the water as he cups your jaw and makes you look at him.

“And what exactly do you think I am, sweetheart?”

You open your mouth. Close it. Gulp.

Sylus chuckles darkly and kisses your cheek gently, mockingly.

“I have twelve armories. A fleet of assassins. I bought a continent last week. And you’re fantasizing about a duke in a cape? What did he do, raise his voice once?”

“You want me to play your little story? Fine. You’re now the duchess of my empire, and I’m the cruel tyrant who locks you in his estate to keep you safe from the nobles who ‘want a taste.’”

You blink rapidly. “…That actually sounds kinda hot—”

He grins wide. “Thought so.”

He snaps his fingers and calls one of his aides into the room just to say:

“Prepare a red ballgown. She’s attending the council meeting with me tomorrow as my ‘obsessive’ wife. I want her sitting on my lap while I execute a traitor.”

You: “SYLUS—!”

But he’s already pressing a kiss to your wrist, eyes glinting with dark glee.

“You don’t need a second husband, pretty girl. Just tell me the fantasy and I’ll make it real. Even if I have to burn a country down.”

The next time you open that manhwa?

Sylus scoffs. “He’s not even holding her neck right. Amateur.”

And you’re squealing and blushing as he flips the tablet off and declares:

“You want to be ruined by a cold duke? Get over here and let me show you how it’s actually done.”

𝘾𝙖𝙡𝙚𝙗 ⋆｡ ‧˚ʚ🍎ɞ˚‧｡ ⋆

It’s a lazy Skyhaven afternoon, and you’re cuddled up on the oversized cloud couch in Caleb’s penthouse, dressed in one of his big Farspace Academy shirts. Your hair’s in a messy bun, snacks within reach, tablet on your lap, and your favorite K-drama blaring: “Doctor of the Moonlight.”

The male lead?

A gorgeous, cold trauma surgeon with a tragic childhood and silky hair that always falls into his eyes. He saves lives with one hand, shatters hearts with the other. But the moment he gently tucks the heroine’s hair behind her ear after she sprains her ankle on a rainy rooftop?

You clutch a pillow to your chest, starry-eyed.

“Please become my husband,” you sigh dreamily. “That’s it. I’m getting a second husband. One with a PhD and arm veins.”

And somewhere behind you… there’s a pause. Then:

“Excuse me?”

You turn and see Caleb, still in his black officer uniform, leaning against the kitchen counter, a glass of water forgotten in his hand. His purple eyes are narrowed. His jaw ticks.

“A second husband?” he echoes, voice low and dangerously calm. “You want some pretty-boy drama doctor who cries over surgeries to take you away?”

You blink. “It’s just a show, he’s so gentle and calm and—”

He’s already stalking toward you.

Drops onto the couch like a panther and pulls you onto his lap without another word. His arms wrap tightly around your waist as he leans in, nose brushing your cheek.

“I flew into an asteroid field for you,” he growls softly. “I’ve bled, killed, and retired an entire fleet just to make sure you never lift a finger again.”

You pout playfully. “But does he look good in scrubs?”

Caleb grins, slow and dangerous. “pips, I look good in my colonel uniform”

Then he flips the tablet shut and tosses it onto the table with military precision.

“You want a doctor? Fine. I’ll be your doctor.”

He adjusts his grip, one hand slipping under your thighs to carry you like you weigh nothing.

“Mandatory health check. Right now. Can’t have my wife fantasizing about other men while she’s clearly suffering from a short-term memory issue.”

You squeal and cling to him, whining that you were joking, but he’s already carrying you off, kissing your cheek and murmuring:

“Don’t need a second husband, sweetheart. You need to be reminded who your first—and only—one is.”

Later, when you’re curled up on his chest, pouting and saying the drama doctor was still cute, Caleb just hums and strokes your hair lazily.

“Tell you what,” he whispers. “Next time I’m deployed, I’ll film myself dragging a soldier out of an exploding ship with one arm. You can have your little K-drama moment then.”

You whine, “That’s not romantic!”

And he just kisses your nose, utterly smug.

“You married a colonel, not a drama actor. But if I ever catch you giggling at him again…”

He pulls you closer, voice dropping.

“I’ll ground you.”

[maliciousarcheology]

Sylus just wanting Mc to take from him and ask/want for different things puts things in a different perspective.

Mc wouldn't care about gems and clothing, unless Sylus wants her to. Because he wants her to dress and match him. He wants her to want to be beside him, and for the leader of the N109 Zone, he can't have his gf looking cheaper than him. So Mc looks into the latest fashions, trying to make him proud as she stands beside him, not asking him to buy a lot, but enough to make him feel wanted bc the man's love language does include gift giving. Mc wants to make Sylus happy, she wants to see him walking over and giving his card. Bc he's so snarky and dramatic when he does it, she loves the look of him taking care of her sm 🥰

He'd genuinely want Mc to be possessive (not obsessed). He'd want her to bite him, for her to kiss him when they're alone. Mc is equally as ravenous as Sylus in bed, and doesn't stop telling him how she wants him and how much she can't stand when he's not touching her. He uses his evol when they have sex half the time, just bc Mc goes crazy when he transforms

Mc wants everything Sylus has. His clothes, his side of the bed, his attention, even his snacks. And he just gives them to her, while calling her kitten and telling her how greedy she is. But he smiles when he does it

Mc choosing to love Sylus, even though it's not supposed happen. Mc wanting to love Sylus and wanting him to want her. This is something Sylus can't even begin to imagine until it happens. And that's when he realizes how badly he wants Mc to WANT him. His eye, his bad dreams, his terrible humming. Even the blood on his hands. He wants Mc to want him so badly, not even needing him. Just genuinely wanting him for who he is and who he wants to be for her ✨️

[organic-bloodbath]

Knife Princess

Chishiya x Reader

Summary: You're Niragi's little sister, and he's not happy of Chishiya's interest on you. When the final game starts and you get hurt, Chishiya takes care of you.

Warnings: 18+ smut, lots of blood ig.

A/N: I was writing a Chishiya request but realised half way i needed to write a prequel for that first lmao. So, this will have more parts coming up ✨️

Chapters

♤♡♧◇

During your time at the Beach, Chishiya became intrigued by you. He analyzed your movements when you weren't watching - atleast he thought you didn't notice him.

He could see that men eyed you while you were laying by the pool in your bikinis, but nobody dared to approach you. Everyone knew you were Niragi's sister and that terrified the shit out of them.

Why? Because Niragi seemed to be a little overprotective of you. If he could see even one pair of male eyes thirsting over you, Niragi wouldn't hesitate to beat them up. People here had seen that happen several times. Some men thought they'd get away with a little bit of flirting, but Niragi seemed to have eyes everywhere at any times.

One day, Chishiya watched you, sitting by the edge of the pool once again in your yellow bikinis, legs tangling in the water to cool yourself down. You were enjoying the sun, black sunglasses resting on the bridge of your nose. You weren't aware of his gaze, you had no idea how his eyes lingered on your skin. Atleast, that's what he thought.

Chishiya turned around just for a moment to leave, and suddenly you had appeared right behind him.

"You like what you see, hm?" you asked and put your hands on your hips. Chishiya stayed silent, an amused look on his face as he turned around to face you. "I've seen you looking at me, you know," you smirked and bit your lip. "You're not as sneaky as you think you are."

"Is that so?" Chishiya hummed.

"Mhm. A lady like me has grown eyes on her back too," you said proudly.

"I see," Chishiya said, intrigued once more. "So, tell me. Why do you wear boots at the pool?"

Chishiya had noticed that you always had the same leather boots on, while most people wore sandals or were just bare foot.

You only smiled and tilted your head, slowly stepping closer to him so you could reach to put your hands on his shoulders. You leaned so close to his face that you were only inches away from him, and he could feel your minty breath when you whispered: "You'll have to take them off and find out."

And then, only with a smile and a wink you let go of him and turned around, leaving him to stand there by himself to go back inside.

Chishiya wasn't sure if he only imagined it, but it felt like you swayed your hips more dramatically than usual as you knew that he would watch you walking away. If your plan was to not let Chishiya's eyes leave your body - you succeeded with that.

"Careful," Kuina said next to Chishiya. "Don't let Niragi see that you were checking his sister out."

"I wasn't checking her out," Chishiya denied, but he knew that it was a lie. He knew that he'd be dead if Niragi found out even about his thoughts on you, but Chishiya also knew that you were a woman with your own choices.

"Mhm, whatever you say," Kuina said, a hint of worry in her voice.

♤♡♧◇

After your short talk by the pool, it took only two more days to get Chishiya to take you into his bedroom and push you on his bed.

You knew that with right words, you could get any man that you wanted. Not every man could be seduced with the same methods, however, so you needed a little time to calculate what kind of person you were dealing with. You let men flirt with you here, even though you didn't plan to actually do anything with them, but you knew it pissed off Niragi and you enjoyed that.

Of course you wouldn't sleep with everyone here, though, you did have quite high standards and a specific taste and none of the men at the Beach had raised your curiosity enough.

Until you met Chishiya. He stood out from the crowd, usually staying mostly by himself or with a limited one to two people. You wanted to get to know him. No, you needed to get to know him. Maybe not emotionally yet, but atleast physically.

Truthfully, you hadn't had sex in months, you needed it much more than you had thought. Chishiya sucked all the stress and worry off you with his touch which gave you pleasure, even if it was only for a moment.

Right now, Chishiya had you pinned on the bed under him, holding your hands above your head and planting kisses around your neck and collarbones. You didn't know how he managed to find all the sweet spots which made you go insane already on your first time together, but he did nevertheless.

He untied the top of your bikini and threw it away, not caring where it would land. He took off his shirt as well to stay fair with you.

He peppered kisses all around your body as he slowly crawled back, until his head was located between your legs. He pulled the bottom of your bikini off, seeing now every part of your body. It didn't take long for him to rub your clit and push his fingers inside, starting to explore your vagina with different movements.

"Oh, fuck," you gasped. He moved his hand away for a moment but you quickly stopped him by grabbing his hair. "Wait, can you- can you do that again?"

Chishiya smirked. "Do what again?" he asked. "This?"

You arched your back as Chishiya pushed his fingers back inside you, curling his fingers just in the right angle like he had done earlier. You had to grab the bedsheets into your fists to stay still.

When he pushed himself inside you, you felt like this was what you had needed the most during your time at the Beach. During all the games.

Sleeping with him was something you felt like you had needed for years. He was the perfect balance of both rough and gentle in the best way possible to give you pleasure in its highest form.

You had no idea how much time passed while you were trapped between his body and the mattress, you were in complete ecstasy and you never wanted him stop what he was doing.

You were sure your body would be full of marks he had created on your body and you'd have to show it off to everyone, but right now, right at that moment, you didn't care about anything besides you and him.

♤♡♧◇

"What's that?" Niragi asked next morning and stepped closer to you, looking at the bruises on your neck, trying to hide themselves behind you hair. He grabbed your hair and yanked it back to see your neck better. "Are those hickeys? Who made those?"

"What is it for you?" you spat. "You can do whatever you want with whoever and so can i."

Niragi narrowed his eyes for your attitude.

"Who," Niragi growled with a low voice, finger pressing on one of the many bruises, his dark eyes directly on yours, "made that?"

You just grinned smugly.

"Try to guess," you challenged him.

♤♡♧◇

"You fucked my sister?!" Niragi shouted louder than ever before. Chishiya jumped back when he saw Niragi storming towards him, pointing his rifle towards Chishiya.

"Well, to my defense, she came to me," he said, lifting his hands up to surrender and trying to ignore the rifle, inches from his face.

"Out of all the girls here, dozens of them, you just had to choose her?!"

"Niragi, we're-"

Niragi put his gun down and instead grabbed Chishiya by his shirt and slammed him against the wall. Chishiya winced a little when the back of his head hit hard on the wall but otherwise he kept his regular pokerface.

"What should i do with you now, hm?" Niragi asked. "Shoot you dead right here right now or take a knife and carve little marks on your skin before shooting you. Any last wishes?"

He took a knife from his pocket, pressing the tip against Chishiya's cheek, a little too close to his left eye.

"Did you want to get a revenge on me? I thought we were buddies, man."

"Listen," Chishiya chuckled nervously in Niragi's tight grip. "Just let me down and we'll-"

"I know she's pretty, obviously, it's in our genes," Niragi interrupted, not caring to listen to Chishiya's defense. "But atleast talk about it before to me, man. Don't just go and screw her like that."

"So, if i had asked you for your blessing to sleep with your sister, you would have been okay with that?"

The anger rose back to Niragi's eyes. Chishiya was basically throwing more fuel into the fire flaming inside Niragi.

"Niragi, what are you doing?" you shouted from the end of the hallway before Niragi would be able go put a bullet in Chishiya's skull, walking towards the two guys with long steps. "Let go of him this instant."

"Or what?" Niragi asked. "You'll stab me over this guy?"

"If i have to," you said and crossed your arms against your chest.

"You can't be serious-"

You pulled a knife from your boot and pointed it at him.

"Let. Him. Down." You gritted your teeth, the same kind of anger in your eyes as in Niragi's. "Or you'll lose an ear."

Niragi huffed and let Chishiya go, coming towards you.

"Seriously, Y/N?" he whispered to you. "Him?"

"Mind your own damn business," you spat.

Eventually, Niragi left, but he wasn't in a good mood. At all. You hadn't seen him that angry in a while. You didn't lash out at him like that because he was threatening specifically Chishiya, no. You were just tired of Niragi constantly meddling into your business with men over and over again. Whenever you'd have a single hickey on your neck, and Niragi saw that, he'd immediately lose his temper for someone touching you - as witnessed here. It had been the exact same back at home before ending up to this world, but back then he only had his fists and not a gun. You had tried to make him quit it so many times but he wasn't having it.

You let out a frustrated groan, and Chishiya walked towards you now that Niragi had disappeared.

"So, you always carry knives with you wherever you go?" Chishiya asked, hands in the pockets of his white hoodie and an amused smirk on his face. "That's why you wear boots even with a swimsuit?"

"Shouldn't everyone carry a weapon with them?" you asked seriously, raising an eyebrow. "You never know when you need to defend yourself."

"Fair," Chishiya admitted.

You stepped right in front of Chishiya and put your hand behind his neck, slowly caressing his shoulder.

"Want to have a round two in my room tonight?" you asked, clicking your tongue.

"I'm not sure if i want to lose my right eye for that," Chishiya smirked, still feeling the cold blade against his cheek.

"Niragi's not the boss of me," you said and rolled your eyes. "I'm not some little kid that needs to be protected."

"Oh i can definitely see that," Chishiya agreed and nodded.

"So, my room tonight." You put your finger on hips lips. "Don't make me wait too long, hm?"

♤♡♧◇

The fire was flaming high outside, waiting for corpses to be thrown in there.

When the 10 of Hearts game started and Aguni's men were slaughtering people left and right, you only sat back and watched the shitshow. You knew Niragi would never allow anyone to touch you so you weren't afraid of being accused of being the witch and getting thrown into the fire.

That was, as long as he was there to witness it, and right now he wasn't. Still, you didn't stress about the game nearly as much as the others there.

You had no idea what Chishiya and others were doing, but right now you really, really just craved for a snack and was heading towards your room.

However, before you managed to get any further, someone grabbed you by your hair and yanked you towards them, causing you to let out a small cry for the pain on your scalp.

"Ha! Maybe she's the witch!" a man, who you didn't know at all, shouted at your face, spit flying on your cheekbone. "Let's burn her!"

One more guy joined him to drag you towards the place where the fire was located. But they weren't able to get very far.

You managed to get free yourself from their grip, then reached for your boots and took the two knives out of them. You didn't hesitate a moment longer as you threw the knives towards the two men, the blades digging deep into the men's necks.

You had practiced throwing knives for the past decade - as a nice little hobby of yours.

The men fell on their knees, and you kicked them on their chest, causing them to fall on their backs. You leaned down to remove the knives from their throats, leaving them to bleed out on the carpet. You wiped the blood on the men's shirts, then putting the knives back into your boots and continued your way towards you room.

As you walked through the corridor, you didn't notice two pairs of eyes watching you behind a corner.

"Well, i sure wouldn't want to anger her," Kuina mumbled. She was in shock how such a small girl was able to take down two grown men at that speed.

"She managed to surprise me too," Chishiya admitted, arms crossed on his chest. And very few people did surprise him anymore, both Kuina and Chishiya himself knew that. "Although, she's related to Niragi, so i don't know if i should have been surprised."

♤♡♧◇

A little later, you were leaning against one of the pillars on the 3rd floor, watching Aguni beat up Arisu with all his strength. You felt another presence join you, but you didn't need to turn your head to see who it was.

"Enjoying the show?" Chishiya asked.

"It's like watching a violent theatre play with real blood."

"Mhm," Chishiya hummed. "Hearts games are brutal but this is definitely something else."

"It's kind of entertaining how insane people can go during the Hearts games," you commented and turned your head towards Chishiya. "Did you ever suspect me as the witch?"

Chishiya eyed you for a moment.

"You could have pulled it off," he admitted. "With those knives and all."

"Aw, i'm touched," you smiled, hand on your chest. "If i was proven to be the witch, would you have been able to burn me in the fire?"

"Well," Chishiya started slowly and turned his face back to the crowd downstairs. "Everyone just wants to survive and get out of here, right?"

You didn't say anything back, only followed the events happening two floors down.

After everything had finally started to calm down, the fire suddenly spread and Niragi stepped inside, looking like he had been thrown into the fire too but got out before turning into complete ash.

"Oh, shit," you mumbled.

Niragi started to shoot in every direction possible with his rifle, not caring who he hit with the bullets. He wanted everyone here to die, that was for sure. He shot not only vertically everywhere, also up in different angles.

That meant, also right into your direction. Chishiya pulled you back, but just a second too late. You felt burning pain on your right shoulder and right after your leg, blood starting to pour out of the wounds. You stumbled backwards, but Chishiya managed to catch you and held you up by your waist.

His eyes widened when he saw your shoulder being painted red, as well as your leg.

"This just isn't my day, is it?" you chuckled, trying to ignore the pain radiating through your arm and make fun of the situation.

Chishiya didn't have much time to start patching you up right now, you had to leave this place as soon as possible to get to safety.

"Wait a moment, i'll be right back," he said and left you there on your own for a moment, running to the room where you had previously been. For a minute you were afraid he had actually left you here to bleed out, not wanting to deal with your injuries.

Chishiya grabbed a first aid kid, towel and brought them with him as he hurried back to you as fast as he was possibly able to run.

"Hold these," he said and gave you the kit and the towel, then scooping you in his arms. He knew he couldn't run very fast carrying you, but it would be faster than dragging you by his side.

It didn't take too long for people to burn the witch and finish the game just before the time would run down to zero. You had finally passed the last game.

As you sat outside and watched the mansion burn down among all the other survivors, Chishiya was by your side sewing the bullet wound shut with a needle and thread. The bullet had exited your body on the back, so Chishiya was more than thankful that he wouldn't need to start operating on you any deeper.

You had started to look pale and feel dizzy for all the blood loss, but you managed to stay conscious. He had wrapped the towel tightly around your leg. It had been white, but was now dyed half red.

"Shiya..." you mumbled, but he didn't lift his face towards you, only concentrated on stitching you up. "I promise i'm not getting hurt on purpose just to get you to touch me."

Your words did amuse Chishiya and you could see a slight smirk on his face.

"Good, because i don't have any more supplies to left to treat your wounds," Chishiya said and cut the thread off, leaving you with clean stitches on your skin. He finally looked into your eyes, looking serious and worried. "Let me know immediately if the stitches open and you start bleeding again, got it?"

"Are you like a doctor or something?" you smiled and bit your lip.

"Something like that," he answered, and you could see a little smile on his lips as well.

"I've never slept with a doctor before," you admitted. "Before the Beach, i mean."

"Was it on your to-do list?"

"Might have been," you said. "Along with a firefighter, of course."

"Too bad we didn't have firefighters at the Beach," Chishiya concluded. "Would have saved us a lot of trouble. Or if there was, they clearly failed their job miserably."

"Perhaps," you said slowly. "I would have still chosen a doctor first though."

"Hm, really?" Chishiya wondered. "Good to know. So, your type is men who can save you from trouble?"

"I'm not a damsel in distress," you scoffed, coming off as offended and a bit too defensive.

"And still i did have to carry you out of there," Chishiya pointed out.

"Shut up," you said and gently hit him on his shoulder.

"You'll promise to take it slow with your arm and leg, okay?" he stated seriously.

"Of course, doctor," you teased and bit your lip. "How can i ever repay you for taking such a good care of me?"

"I have a few things in my mind, but i think we should go somewhere private first," Chishiya reminded and sat next to you, putting his hand around your waist for a moment.

"Why aren't we already leaving then?" you asked and brushed your finger against his collarbone, right by the zipper of his hoodie.

"Tempting, but i'd rather have you rest for a moment," Chishiya said and pulled you tighter against his body, whispering right into your ear: "But don't worry, i'll make sure to find us some time alone."

His hot breath against your ear sent chills down your spine.

♤♡♧◇

A/N: I'll have update for the Child of Hearts too at some point no worries, just have to figure out some scenes for it and shape it a lil bit 🫶🏻

[tokoyamisstuff]

Second Chance At Love Epilogue

Warnings: none, maybe slight mental health issues

A/N: sorry for the wait, writing fluff doesn't come easy to me... but damn, I am incredibly thankful for everyone that has been engaging with this fic! 💌 it's been a pleasure, and I can't wait to create more for you wonderful people! ✨️

[Six Weeks Later]

"Had a nightmare again?"

Mark's half-lidded eyes were locked on you, wiping his wettened lashes dry before nuzzling against your chest again. He had fallen asleep on top of you while cuddling on the sofa, seeming rather peaceful until suddenly he had started getting restless and whisper concerning things in his sleep.

Those present days his only trouble was an irrational fear that he might hurt you during one of his night-terrors, and yet he was also too anxious of losing you again to not be at your side 24/7. So he had taken on the habit to simply hold you in his arms as and forcing himself to stay awake, admiring and protecting you even throughout the whole night.

Most of the time he'd just randomly pass out due to exhaustion, just like it had happened earlier. It's a miracle how he can even be functioning on so little rest, but Mark kept assuring you he's had it worse before and sadly, you did take his word for it.

"Mhh..." He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to shun out the unpleasant memories haunting his dreams and instead concentrates on your heartbeat in order to calm his own.

You're alive. You're here with him. This is real.

"A true nightmare would be waking up and see you gone" your boyfriend mumbled shyly as his panicked breathing slowly evens out, trailing an absentminded path of kisses along your collarbone.

Sometimes doubt would overcome him, thinking this was too good to be true, that maybe he just completely lost his mind and made it all up in his head.

"Hey, I'm with you" you coo sweetly, planting a wet kiss on the crown of his head. It's like you always have the words he needs to hear on the tip of your tongue.

"I know, I know..." Mark's grip on you loosens a bit, although his hands remained possessively hooked to your body. "Thank you."

You try sitting up but a noise of protest drang to your ear, making you giggle as the man climbed on top of you, burying his face in the crook of your neck to inhale your scent.

"Mark..." His mouth plays with the shell of your ear, making a pleasant shiver run down your spine. You let out a sensual sigh, hands disappearing under his shirt to feel up his muscular chest, before softly pushing him away. "We're already late..."

Your boyfriend sat up, still straddling your waist as his eyes darted throughout the room, trying to look anywhere but your face. "Are you, uh...are you sure William is okay with me accompanying you to his birthday party?"

"He specifically asked me to bring you along" you snicker, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt to pull him in for another kiss. He practically melts when he feels his lips move against yours, even after all this time. He'd never get tired of this, of you.

Mark's face is adorably flushed when you finally break contact, and you poke his chest in a teasing manner, offering him a cheeky grin. "So don't worry too much, okay?"

"Alright..." he murmurs under his breath, letting himself dramatically plummet onto you again. "Ugh, this is gonna be so awkward..."

Indeed...

With the sheer endless rebuild and trying to figure out your boyfriend's place in this world, there wasn't really much time for you to have a long overdue talk with this world's Mark and his girlfriend Eve.

"We need to get it over with eventually, right? The party is a great opportunity."

Those past weeks have been rather eventful, and frankly a lot is still complicated.

You haven't even let him meet your parents yet, since it'd be hard to explain why the man you're dating looks exactly like your childhood best friend down to the last minicule detail. A long lost twin, maybe? Damn, Cecil better earns his taxpayer's money and come up with something - it's a exhausting to keep your relationship a secret as technically, your boyfriend shouldn't exist in this dimension.

But ever since he was officially allowed to stay and roam freely, he's relentlessly working to make amends for his deeds.

He once confided in you that he's afraid of his father- no, Nolan's return to earth - because even though it's not the same version that tormented him all these years, he was afraid to relapse and lose control at the mere sight of him.

But that's a worry for another day. One step at a time.

Initially Cecil wanted your Mark to become the Guardian's new leader, however that 'the strongest leads' mindset was too similar to Viltrum culture for his liking. Not to mention he has yet to earn their trust, and is still not completely mentally stable.

When he first joined the team, everyone was - and frankly, still is - pretty wary, if not downright hateful towards him. After everything they needed to endure because of the variants, it's no wonder really. And yet, up until now they managed to swallow their feelings and treating him polite and respectful, though distanced, which is more than he could dare asking for.

A small victory is that the knowledge he got from his own timeline proved useful against many foes to come. Like that he's already indirectly averted so many dangers and saved countless lives!

One would think that after defeating an enemy as ferocious as Conquest through shared efforts, the two Marks would get along by now, right? But actually they were far from it, neutral at best.

Cecil insisted that both Marks could share their identity as Invincible, down to having the same costume and all. You were surprised that the original Mark had declined, as it would've certainly worked in his favor to have more free time and less responsibility. Seems like he was against having a variant - with questionable morals at best - act in his stead. You got the sentiment.

Your Mark on the other hand was willing to accept whatever circumstances he was handed, as long as it meant that the two of you could stay together. Besides that, he didn't really care about anything else.

Much to your delight at least, he's slowly but continuously getting better, with the help of a therapist the GDA had provided. You're a little distrustful of anyone working for them, but they basically owned your boyfriend by now - and also, there's no regular therapist on this earth that would be able to unpack all of his issues.

All that counts is that it's working. He's been unrecognizeable compared to his former self, getting out of his shell lately and cautiously opens up to other people and experiences again. It's truly heartwarming to see him try to enjoy life again, because he deserves nothing less.

You were so incredibly proud of the progress he made, and would do anything to support this wonderful, resilient and kind man leaving his dark past behind.

One prolonged shower the both of you took together later, and you were almost ready to leave for the evening.

"At least in my empire didn't have to wash the dishes anymore" you hear him whine ironically as he rummaged the kitchen, making you snicker. "I was soaking them!" you said in a fake offended tone, but you knew he was just stalling. "We can do them together later. Let's go!"

Looking around your rundown apartment sure makes one wonder how luxuriously he probably lived in his world. You were just glad to afford anything to live alone, but this sure must be a downgrade for him. "Now that you finally get payed by the GDA we could affort to move somewhere nicer? I mean you basically live with me already."

"Don't overthink it, I was just trying to be funny." You sulk a little, almost smearing your lipstick while applying. "Yeah, we need to work on your humor too apparently..."

"You know I wouldn't trade this- you for anything in the world...we could be living in a trashcan and I wouldn't complai- woah..." As Mark stepped into the entrance area his jaw dropped at your getup.

His eyes couldn't stop raking up and down your form, admiring how your outfit highlighted your body in all the right places. Anything from the way you wore your hair over the necklace he got you with his first paycheck, it was a sight to behold.

The most important accessory however was the radiant smile that appeared on your face when you noticed his reaction, so warm and bright that it felt as if bathing in sunlight itself.

"Wow, you, uh...you look incredible."

Only now he realized for how long he has been staring, and your innocent smile turned into a wide, amused one as you noticed the effect you had on him.

"The compliment goes right back!" You wink at him and Mark swings an arm around your shoulder, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek. "How do I even deserve you?"

"It should be me asking that question" he insists, ignoring the way his stomach churns at the thought of meeting all of your friends. "Hurry up, before I change my mind."

7:20 pm and you're finally at the bowling alley, not even half an hour too late. A new record. And as you were soon told, the party didn't start until 10 minutes later - you were just given an earlier time since they knew Mark would be late in any dimension.

To be perfectly honest, you were surprised that William invited your boyfriend, yet kept quiet to not worry him any further. But a few weeks prior you tried to get them acquainted, and of course William had pestered Mark about his counterpart's fate - until the latter finally confessed having gruesomely killed him at his father's request.

You reassured him that it was William's fault for riddling him with so many uncomfortable questions, and that he shouldn't have asked if he can't handle the truth. Seems you were right at least, there's a reason they were best friends across so many timelines.

The two of you were the first to arrive, before the actual birthday boy even, and still you needed to coax your boyfriend - who was currently spiraling - inside like one would lure in a timid animal.

You could only imagine what went through everyone's mind as they entered one after anothe - especially since not only them, but also Amber and her new partner had come. Feeling the anxiety radiating off of him, you remained at your boyfriend's side, squeezing his hand ever so slightly to remind him you're not going anywhere.

"Kinda awkward, huh? The relationship dynamics are all over the place" William teased, before turning around and busying himself with playing. "Try to act like adults, I'm busy destroying all of you with my skills."

"You wish!" Eve seemed the least rigid out of all of you, jumping up and materializing a custom bowling ball as she joined the couple. At least she seemed approachable...you'd rather not want to be on the receiving end of such a powerful being's wrath.

To be perfectly honest, seeing the original Mark - your former and hopefully soon again friend - after all this time wasn't nearly as strange as you imagined it'd be. You were glad to see him of course, but other than that you felt nothing but a siblinglike bond between you - the heartache and unrequited love you had felt for so long had vaporized completely.

He wasn't your Mark after all.

A few drinks later the mood loosened up eventually - at least for those of you who could still be affected by alcohol.

"They seem to get along surprisingly well" Amber noted, taking a seat next to you and clinking her bottle with yours, before nodding towards the two Marks conversing in the background. "What are they taking about?"

"They're complaining about the animation of the new Seance Dog season, I think?" You roll your eyes and both of you break out in laughter. "It was the first thing he did after the whole war. Made me sit through the entire thing in one night."

"Glad to hear our world's Mark is not the only hopeless nerd" Eve commented as she joined you two, now effectively trapped in between Mark's ex and his current girlfriend.

You took a deep, shuddered breath, before trying to explain yourself. "Eve, hear me out, before you say anything, I didn't-"

"I know" she interrupted you anyways, shooting you a sympathetic look. "I think we all understand. No matter how crazy the situation is, I think we're used to stuff like this by now..." You huffed an uncomfortable laugh, but she was right wasn't she? "Amber and I have been through similar things not long ago. I had a crush on Mark when they were still together, but we talked it out and are still friends."

"Why would we even be mad?" Amber added, "You never acted on your feelings and respected our relationship with Mark."

"Still, it's just...weird, isn't it?" You're fidgeting with your fingers, eyes darting between your boyfriend and the floor. "I mean, I'm dating a different version of Mark, that's just-"

"But he's his own person. It's not like you're setting for him just because you couldn't get the original, right?"

"Of course not!" you blurt out mildly upset, though you had also once accused your boyfriend of using you as a rebound. "He's not a replacement. He's himself. Even though they look alike and share similar memories, my Mark is different in so many ways...I didn't even plan to, we just happened to fall for each other."

Yeah. It may have started wrong, but the two of you got to know each other beyond your unhealthy obsession for the concept of your other variants.

"I'm glad to hear that" Eve and Amber both lay a hand on your shoulder, proclaiming they're very happy for how things turned out for you and the alternate Mark...

...but were rudely interrupted by the TV volume increasing due to emergency news about a villain rampaging in a nearby city.

"Mark!" all three of you yell in unison, and both of them flinch at the sound and rush towards you.

"We may need to give them nicknames..." You chuckle at Eve's idea, turning your attention to your partner. "Maybe I should call you 'Sebastian' from now on, so we can distinguish you two better?"

"Whatever you say, babe!" he chirps like the lovestruck fool he is, before realizing what was going on. "Oh. I'll go take care of it!" He turns to the original Mark, determination present on his face. "You can stay with your friends."

"You mean our friends" the original corrects him, and both crack a appreciative smile at each other. "And I don't think so. How about we go together?"

"Sure!" his counterpart chants happily, giving you a last quick embrace from behind before going outside. "Should be quick work with the two of us, see ya soon!"

Later this night the two of you were entangled under the sheets, long since stripped of any clothing as you enjoyed the warmth of each other's body. Your boyfriend absentmindedly caresses your skin, raising goosebumps as his fingertips trace little paths across your curves.

"Sooo..." you ask curious, now facing him while you pepper countless kisses across his face. "Did you enjoy the evening after all?"

"You have no idea" he admitted, feeling as content with himself as never before. "It's been forever since things felt so...normal. Also..." His thumb gently stroke your cheek and you eagerly leaned into his touch. "Mark said that our- uh, his mom and brother want to meet me."

"Oh?" Seems like things were progressing even better than you anticipated. "Well, what did you say?"

"I couldn't object even if I wanted to. Opened my mouth and he directly cut me off by saying something like 'what's one more half-viltrumite to accept into the family?'"

"Yeah, sounds like them." You snort with laughter, tears of happiness forming in the brim of your eyes. "But I'm glad, really. There's so many good people who welcome you into their lives now. You are so, so loved, do you know that?"

Mark leans his forehead against yours, briefly closing the gap between your lips. "All thanks to you" he claims, his voice wavering with almost worship-like reverence.

"No, that was all you." He tends to take all the blame but rarely gives himself credit. After the tragic turn his life took, throughout all the pain and loss...in the end he chose to do what's right.

If anyone deserves a happy ending, it's him - and you will make sure he gets it.

"Do you think Angstrom will return one day?" You ask cautiously and in an instant your boyfriend has securely cradled you against his chest.

"Of course, that bastard is tough. Being driven by insanity does that to a man, I know what I'm talking about." His joke only caused you to frown, but the sanguine smile plastered on his face was contagious nonetheless. Not to mention you were too drunk and tired to argue anyway. "Don't worry. This time we're two Invincibles, and I'll make sure nothing happens to this world. It's my home now...because you are on it."

Mark proceeds to rub a soothing pattern between your shoulderblades, draping the blanket over both of you as he watched you slowly drift into sleep. He leans in to plant a last, lingering kiss atop of your temple, closing his eyes as well to indulge in this peaceful closeness.

"...maybe I should be thanking Angstrom, for making me meet the true love of my life..."

[peachyggirl]

Nic and the reader are doing the milk challenge, but the reader goes far and does a lot in the challenge, and that makes nic upset and jealous even, and the reader has to be punished for it ✨️

♡ gameboy (what’s your beef?) - nic love island s7

THIS IS LONG… literally my longest one shot ever. i was listening to gameboy by katseye the whole time haha, mature themes, kissing, spitting milk into someone’s mouth, make outs, groping, ass smacking, 18+! p in v, lilfingering, nic is a meannn boy… LMAOO, edging, cumming inside, hitting it raw, just strap in 😭 full on smut. NOT PROOFREAD!!

you felt so sticky… this challenge felt the dirtiest for you. you’ve kissed jeremiah and ace so far. but nic was bothered. you looked so alluring, captivating. your little white and pastel yellow corset dress and your knotless braids half up half down with a green bow to match nic’s bandanna.

when pepe and hannah went, pepe picked out your name for the kissing. you squeal as nic side eyes you. hard. pepe helps you down while walking down.

“to be honest… i knew that pepe was gonna go in because he pulled y/n for a chat. i don’t want my girl to kiss any other guy,” nic says with a straight face and a soft smirk forming.

pepe pulls you down as the islanders cheer and scream. you craw on top of him and kiss him. your dress rides up as chelley pulls it down and sits back at her spot.

pepe kisses you, sloppily. it felt like he was hungry for you. nic watches and shakes his head as taylor covers his eyes. pepe’s hands rub up and down on your waist, his lips going down to your neck.

you fake moan and bounce up and down on him. nic shouts, “hey! hey! chill!”

you laugh and get off of pepe and help him up. you sit back next to nic. he stares at you, bitter. you look back at him, “what?” you smile. he shakes his head, “you gon’ learn tonight.”

you laugh, “yall… he’s literally mad as fuck. it’s so funny… that’s my man! that’s my man!” you sing and do a small dance.

after the challenge, you sit with amaya, hannah and huda. you changed into a orange and pink-like loose piece with a fake white flower between your braids.

“girl, you were going insane during the challenge! you kissed almost every guy,” huda says. you roll your eyes and laugh, “i was… i was tired of kissing. i can’t lie.”

amaya laughs along, “nic was fuming! he was so angry!”

you shrug, “it’s just a game, boy.”

nic quickly steals you away from the girls. he asked the producers to open up the hideaway for an hour.

you sit next to him, your smile soft as he stares at you. why did he look extra beefy right now? his sturdy build with his veiny hands… and big biceps… and his gold chain. why did he have to wear a black shirt with jeans.

he’s an asshole.

“you have fun tonight?” he asks flatly. you nod, “it was a challenge. they’re always fun.” you look up and him as you both lay on your sides.

“mhm..” his eyes drag over your body, lustful. lewd. chilling a little bit. “you looked like you were auditioning for an only fans.”

you scoff, “first off, you don’t need to audition. second, you were being freaky. you were literally drinking the cow milk like a thirsty teenage boy.”

he furrows his thick brows, his head bucking back a bit. “you were grinding and moaning on pepe.. what?” he says. oh.. he was mad.

you knew you overdid it. okay, maybe way overdid it. but if that’s overdoing something than nic goes overboard everytime.

he leans closer, brushing a braid out of your face, voice low. “you embarrassed me tonight.”

you roll your eyes, “you’re being so dramatic. you go all out all the time.”

his jaw ticks. “you think i’m playing?” he mutters. “you were bouncing on pepe like you wanted to ride him next. you were moaning for him. made me look like some loser in front of the whole villa.”

you laugh. opening your mouth, but he grabs your face— soft enough to not hurt, but firm enough to shut you up. “nah,” he growls. “you don’t get to talk.”

he kisses you, hard. not sweet. not gentle. just lips and tongue and teeth and anger. messy. you whimper into his mouth, thighs clenching.

he pulls back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “lay on your back, take off your clothes too.”

you stare up at him, “nic—“

“baby.”

you take off the two piece, leaving you in your lace bra and panties. he takes off your panties, stuffing them in his back pocket. he slides his fingers between your legs. you’re soaked— humiliatingly so.

he pushes two fingers inside you, rough. your mouth slightly falls open, eyes squeezing shut. he starts pumping them slow, curling them just right, dragging it out while your hips lift.

“that’s it,” he whispers, “you know what’s comin’. but you don’t get to cum yet. not till i say.”

his fingers speed up—fast and relentless now—and then he pulls them out without warning. you whine.

he lays you on your stomach, your ass up and back arches. he grabs your braids, yanking your head back. “you don’t whine, mama. you take it.”

you feel him line up behind you. his tip rubs along your entrance, slow. he’s taunting you.

“nic… please—” he slams in.

he gives you no time to adjust, just grabs your hips and starts pounding, deep and rough and furious. his body slaps against yours over and over, and you swear you’re seeing stars.

“who do you belong to?” he growls through gritted teeth.

“y-you—” he slaps your ass.

“say it like you mean it.”

“you! it’s you, nic, i swear—”

he lets out a low moan, hand curling in your braids, controlling your rhythm now. he’s deep inside you, almost brutal. like he’s trying to mark you.

“this pussy’s mine,” he pants. his hand pressing against your warm back.

you’re gasping, shaking, gripping the sheets like they’ll save you. he starts hitting that perfect spot. over and over— until you’re babbling his name like a prayer.

he feels your walls clench, “don’t cum,” he snaps.

your body jerks. “i— i can’t—”

“then hold it.”

he slows down suddenly, deep, thrusts that make you sob.

“you wanna be a brat?” he pants, dragging his teeth across your shoulder. “then you’ll cum when i say. not a second before.”

you’re a mess. makeup smudged. legs trembling. but all you can think is yes yes yes, please more. nic leans over, whispering in your ear again, voice calm but filthy,

“when i’m done with you, every time they look at you, they’ll know.. you were fucked stupid by me.”

you’re dangling on the edge. body trembling, every muscle screaming for release. you’re so close it hurts, but nic keeps slowing down, dragging it out.

“please,” you gasp, head hanging low. “i can’t—”

“yes you can,” he growls. “you’re gonna take this cock and not cum until i say. since you like to perform, prove how good you are at behaving.”

you sob into the sheets. he’s still deep inside, grinding now, just barely pulling out before slamming back in— slow, punishing strokes.

he leans forward, mouth against your ear. “you don’t cum without me.”

and just like that, he picks up pace— fast. the kind of pace that makes your brain white out. his name spills from your lips over and over.

“you close again?” he pants, voice wrecked.

“yes—yes, nic, please—”

he pulls out. completely.

you scream. actually scream. he flips you onto your back like you weigh nothing, eyes dark, hungry, possessive. his hand grabs your throat— not choking, just holding.

“i told you,” he murmurs, thumb brushing your lip. “i own this.” he thrusts back in, this time watching your face as he pounds into you. “look at me when you cum.”

your legs shake. tears prick at your lashes. your nails claw at his back.

“cum for me,” he finally says, voice low and brutal.

your body snaps. back arching, mouth open in a silent scream, your whole world collapsing into white hot bliss. you swear your soul leaves your body. he holds you through it, hips still driving into you like he’s trying to ruin what’s left of your sanity.

“fuck,” nic groans, eyes squeezing shut as he follows you, hips stuttering. “fuck, baby… fuck—” he spills inside you, pulling you against his chest like he needs to own every inch of you inside and out.

you’re both panting, sweaty, wrecked. your body feels like jello. he finally leans up, smirking down at you. “bet you won’t be crawling on another man like that again.”

you blink up at him, dazed. “…i might.” he grabs a pillow and smacks you in the face with it.

“i’m deadass.” you burst into laughter, still breathless. he lays beside you, pulling you close.

you hum, soft. “you’re so mean.”

“you’re so annoying,” he mutters into your neck.

you smile and kiss his face, “my baby.”

[thecheshireprincess]

hardcore smut babes. chishiya x reader and i need him to be rough but also praising you at the same time??? idk what im talking about but im sure you will make it great ilysm

You Can Take It

Shuntarō Chishiya x F!Reader

Summary: Being a doctor is hard work, only you can make it better.

Content Warning: NSFW (18+); porn with a little plot, smutty smut, just smut fr, daddy kink (you know why, say it with me), a little more of a rough Chishiya, Chishiya is OOC (let's pretend he is changed by Borderland, hm?), curse words

I won't tell anyone what or what not to do, but please interact responsibly ✨️

AO3 Link

A/N: One hardcore/praise smutfic feat. Doctor Chishiya for @izzybizzyk 🫶🏻🌹

Not sure what possessed me to choose Doctor Chishiya for this, but damn I am glad for it YUM 🥵 I should have had him use the fucking belt, MISSED OPPORTUNITY (next time?)

Chishiya sighs as the warm, tranquil feeling of home washes over him; the blend of dinner cooking and your favorite bergamot candle flooding his senses. Today was the worst kind of day, filled with all the things he hated most about being a doctor; rich assholes being prioritized over sick children, entitled parents berating him over things he had no control over, the hospital being short-staffed as always - leaving the staff who were present being spread far too thinly to perform efficiently. It was all too much, and he needed relief. Needed you.

The melodic sound of your humming floats from the kitchen, echoing lightly through your shared home. Your husband imagines how pretty and soft you must look as you flit effortlessly about the space cooking for the two of you, his dress pants growing a little tighter. You are no doubt his favorite distraction from the world outside your sweet bubble of home, his stress from the day shifting quickly to desire for you.

Chishiya finds you at the stove facing away from him, still dressed in a buttoned floral blouse with the sleeves rolled up and a flowing black skirt that swirls around you as you sway to the song you're humming. He stifles a low groan as he approaches your unsuspecting form; left hand landing easily at your hip and his right arm snaking to hug your shoulders, pulling you back gently against his chest as he rocks with you to the music only you can hear. His hungry lips find the sweet spot where your neck meets your shoulder, eagerly sucking a colorful bruise to the surface of your delicate skin. His.

You're shaken from your own little world at his touch, gasping in surprise that your husband's finally home. You quickly melt into his arms as the clinical scent of the hospital lingering on his clothes infiltrates your senses. "Chishiya! Baby, you scared me," you chuckle, placing a hand to your chest for dramatic effect. "How was your day?" you inquire sweetly, just as kind and soft as he knew you would be tonight, completely oblivious to how turned on tense he was behind you.

He takes a beat to answer - fully invested in decorating your neck with his teeth and tongue, drawing languid moans from you. He wanted to ruin you. A Cheshire grin spreads across his face, teeth now nipping along the shell of your ear as his slender fingers ghost at your throat. "It's not Chishiya to you, not tonight," he murmurs, voice gruff and strained with something you recognize from his many years working in the hospital. Stress, desire, aching. His large thumb presses tightly against your pulse point, your quickened heart rate thumping back telling him you were just as excited for this as he was.

A pant of desire falls from your lips, experimentally grinding back against your husband's hardening member, the friction making the man gasp against your neck. You feel sinful shockwaves of excitement radiate straight to your core - Chishiya was not going to be gentle with you tonight. "Daddy?" You mewl hesitantly, unsure if this was the direction he was trying to take things, but hopeful that it was. Your husband acting like this - feral for you - was a rare occurrence, and you would always take advantage of it when you could.

The man behind you tenses, hands that had been skimming over your ribcage now frozen in place. You feel his hardened cock twitch in his dress pants against you, a low growl erupting deep within his chest. He knew he didn't give you this treatment often enough, that you would be desperate and dripping for him. And tonight, that's just what the doctor ordered.

He hums in approval, a sound more akin to a snarl, "Daddy had a bad day, kitten. Be a good girl and make him feel better." The most beautiful whimper leaves your lips when your husband spins you around to face him, shoving you roughly to the waxed tiled floor at his feet. The way you look up at him from your knees takes Chishiya's breath away - yes, this is exactly what he needed.

Your nimble fingers are quick to find his belt, eagerly yanking the piece of leather apart with a tiny clink of the buckle and granting you access into his slacks. You pull his cock out victoriously, mouth watering. He's already hard, leaking, throbbing before you even had him freed of the confines of his pants. The poor man is desperate for your touch, who are you to deny him? Chishiya hisses when you press your full, blushed lips in a chaste kiss to his tip, smearing his salty arousal along your lips. You love this part of your trysts, as evidenced by the way you're already soaking your panties, kissing and licking your husband's cock like the best lollipop you've ever had.

A now impatient growl leaves Chishiya's lips, his fingers roughly pinning back the curtain of hair that had been hiding your pretty face from him. He certainly couldn't have that. In an uncharacteristic move for the normally composed man, he bucks his hips forward, driving his cock through your lips and forcefully hitting the back of your throat. The sudden intrusion has you momentarily choking and sputtering against him, tears springing to the corners of your shining eyes. You recover masterfully, relaxing your throat and groaning deeply around his length, sending glorious vibrations through his body and straight to his core.

"Good girl," Chishiya whimpers, his hips rutting against you as he fucks your face, aching balls slapping against your chin with the force of his thrusts. His whimper of praise goes straight to your slick heat, pridefully relishing in the way you make him feel. "You're such a good fucking wife on your knees for me," he groans, glassy eyes studying your hollowed cheeks, the way you take every inch of his cock into your perfect mouth. Your eyebrows knit in your own pleasure, your cunt dripping. Life the perfect wife you are, you massage his sensitive balls with your left hand, the right digging sharp nail imprints into his ass as you draw him closer to you, nose kissing his pelvis with each drive of his hips.

Your husband's breaths come quicker and shallower on your quest towards his impending orgasm, his abdomen flexing as you take his veiny length against your tongue. The way you look up at him through tear-soaked eyelashes, soft locks entangled messily in his hands, has him whining unintelligible praises and soft, broken words.

"It's too good, angel. Fuck," he snarls, head falling back in pleasure. As much as he wants to cum like this, fucking into your pretty mouth wrapped tight around him, he pulls himself away with a wet pop.

You scowl adorably up at him with drool dripping down your chin, eyes narrowed in offense, expecting to have been fed by his hot cum shooting into your throat. "Daddy?" you question the man already yanking you up off the floor, breathless and far past desperation. "Gotta cum in your tight pussy, baby. Let me wreck you," The breath is knocked from your lungs when Chishiya's splayed palm shoves your torso down over the polished granite countertop, sending spice bottles and clean dishes clattering to the floor. The mess he makes of the kitchen only further excites him, his adrenaline coursing hotly through his body like a fever. He makes quick work of flipping your flowing skirt up and out of his way, dexterous digits sliding your panties to the side and diving between your slippery folds.

"So wet for Daddy, hm? You love choking on my cock that much?" You can only whimper, your husband's rough thumb pad brushing teasingly over your swollen clit. His thick middle finger thrusts into your hole at a steady pace, curling into the spongey spot that has you instantly seeing stars. You gasp wildly, clenching around him; the man smiling wickedly at the desperate way your body responds to him. He isn't gentle about adding his ring finger, breath hitching at the way you shudder against the cool metal of his wedding band. You're soon sobbing against the counter, head thrown in your arms as you climb your own precipice.

The rounded edge of the countertop digs into your abdomen as Chishiya covers you with his body weight, folding you in half against the surface. He pulls his fingers coated in your sweet arousal out, leaving you empty and clenched around nothing as he loops his fingers into your panties, removing the garment entirely from your body. Without warning, your husband's full length plunges into your dripping channel, your body contorting into a deep arch as you cry out in a mixture of shock and pleasure. You would never get used to his size. Chishiya relishes in the way your hips wriggle under him, gripping onto your throat with one hand, the other pressing into the small of your back in appreciation of your flexibility.

Your husband sets a brutal pace for the two of you, a wild, wrecked, feral sort of rhythm; his hands gripped so hard against your hips you knew there would be bruises to commemorate this session. Your tight cunt is stretched deliciously around his girth, your sopping heat enthusiastically absorbing the brunt of his stress. The sound of your arousal is dizzying, every slap of Chishiya's skin against your own echoing around the kitchen. "Fuck, you take me so well. This pussy was made for my cock, wasn't it?" he demands breathlessly, mind becoming hazy with lust. Your body responds violently to your husband's filthy words, your legs beginning to shake underneath you.

His cock beating against your cervix with a hard, deep cadence quickly ruins your existence. Just as he'd promised. The tight press of his fingertips against your throat, the snap of his hips into yours, the cool press of the countertop you're being fucked into, all converging and shattering your reality; your orgasm nearly drowning you in intensity as you clench around your husband's length. "Daddy!" you cry out desperately, unable to see or hear anything beyond euphoric pleasure.

Chishiya himself groans in ecstasy, the fluttering of your perfect pussy driving his own orgasm. "Fuck, baby. You're so good for me. Gonna cum, gonna fill this perfect pussy," he warns, delivering several more bruising thrusts that send you roughly into the countertop. Hot cum spurts out of him in ropes, filling your pussy and then some, his seed mixing with your juices and overflowing onto the pristine white floors.

Normally Chishiya would be done after cumming, would scoop you into his arms and coo apologies for taking his frustrations out on you. This time, though? His form remains tense. His hips don't even slow as you begin to approach overstimulation, the ridges of his cock imprinting themselves inside your tight hole. Your husband is drunk on the way his cum drips out of your pussy, gathering erotically around where the two of you are still joined together.

He still needs more. He's mesmerized by the way you writhe under him as he slams his cock deeper and deeper into you. "S-so deep, Daddy. T-too much," you mewl breathlessly, cockdrunk and keening for the man behind you.

"Come on sweetheart, you can take it," he coos mockingly, his length twitching inside you as he dominates over you. With one strong arm, he pulls your torso up to be flush against his chest, sharp teeth expertly finding his reddened mark from earlier. His free hand yanks at the delicate buttons of your pretty floral blouse, sending them cascading across the floor with force. Even through your fucked out haze you glare up at your husband for ruining your shirt, making him grin against your saliva covered skin. You're so precious to him. He'll buy you a million more shirts if you keep looking at him like that forever.

Your entire body trembles for him, unintelligible whines and moans being sung from your perfect lips, absolutely devastated and broken by him. He leans down to capture them in a wrathful kiss, never breaking stride as he pistons in and out of your pussy. With no effort at all, Chishiya has you flipped over onto your back, your shoulders resting against the counter and his body supporting the rest of your weight. It's not a particularly good or stable position, but the angle it allows your husband's cock to penetrate you is beyond worth the pain.

Your pussy tightens again around Chishiya's length, inducing another savage growl from the man. Talented fingers easily find your swollen clit, rubbing circles over the sensitive nub and making you gush arousal around him. "Look at how you soak me, baby. You needed this didn't you?" Your husband snarls. You nod your head weakly, broken whimpers and moans falling fast from your lips.

"Words, pretty thing. Tell Daddy how much you needed him to wreck you tonight," the man all but begs, his second orgasm cresting over the horizon. "I needed it Daddy! Please please make me cum," you beg, tears streaking down your face. Chishiya moans, fucking into you harder, faster, more brutally than before, "Cum for me, pretty baby." The sounds of your coupling are obscene, compounding with the slight pain from the position, and the absolute sinful pleasure he delivers you send you over the edge with a broken cry.

Your second orgasm shatters around you, freezing your body in place on the counter with your head thrown back against the granite; your pussy and legs spasming almost painfully with the force. You're cockdrunk and babbling incoherently, Chishiya burying himself to the hilt inside you as he spills deep inside your womb once more with a feral growl of bliss. He lifts you effortlessly to sit more comfortably on the countertop, sweaty forehead resting against yours. Both of your bodies shake in overstimulation and satisfaction, Chishiya's stress completely melted away.

For several moments, the only sounds that can be heard are your wrecked breathing, the clock ticking noisily on the wall, and the burning sizzle of the dinner you'd both long forgotten about.

Your beautiful glassy eyes find his, a hand coming up to card through his sweaty, messy locks. "Do you want to talk about it?" you finally ask him, so much love and understanding filling your eyes. The man smiles, turning to soak a towel in warm water before gently rubbing it through your folds to clean up your combined mess. When he's cared for you with great attention to detail, he presses a long, tender kiss to your swollen lips. "I think I worked it out of my system, thank you sweetheart," he says with a prideful smirk. You hum in acknowledgement, breath finally evening to a normal pace as you relax boneless against your husband's shoulder. Chishiya gratefully holds you there, rubbing one hand soothingly along your back, cooing, "My good girl. My perfect girl." You're nearly dozing off from the serenity of the moment, Chishiya pressing kisses to the side of your head and forehead, coaxing you to succumb to the rest you deserve.

Suddenly you shoot up in alarm, pulling quickly away from Chishiya and jumping down to shaky legs, "Our dinner!"

Chishiya stifles a laugh at the completely burnt and smoking food you'd been painstakingly making earlier. "Let's just order takeout and I'll run you a bath, hm?"

♤ ♡ ◇ ♧

Masterlist

Everything Tag List: @potato-vagina @28361573 @maxinehufflepuffprincess @mocchii-writes @monkey4lifer @trinibadgyal @izzybizzyk

Chishiya Tag List: @kimsrie @jjkxxy

Please don't hesitate to let me know if you want to be added to (or removed from) any of my tag lists! You can specify if there's a character you like or if you want to see everything. Also, my asks and messages are open, PLEASE reach out, I would literally die to interact with you; ily guys endlessly 💕✨️

[sushiyuzu]

haiiii!! love ur sylus fics omg but i would love to see mc walking in on sylus playing with his daughter thats like 3 and pretending with her, obvs u dont have to do so if u dun wanna just ignore ok bye bye

daddy’s girl

warning: fluff — you walk in on soft!sylus playing pretend with your daughter 🥰

note: so so so happy to hear that you love my sylus fics! and thank you so much for the adorable request! ask and you shall receive ✨️

- second acc: @blushpawss

you were in the kitchen, finishing up the dishes from lunch, when you realized it had been quiet for a while—too quiet. usually, your little girl was a bundle of energy, running around and chattering nonstop. you had expected to hear her laughter or the sound of toys being moved around, but the house was oddly silent. a small smile tugged at your lips. she was probably up to something.

“sylus?” you called out softly, drying your hands on a towel. you remembered that sylus had taken her to the living room to play while you cleaned up. it wasn’t unusual for him to entertain her while you got things done, but the quietness made you a little curious.

you walked toward the living room, ready to call out again, but you stopped when you heard the sweetest sound—a tiny burst of giggles followed by sylus’s deep, playful voice. you couldn’t help but peek around the corner, wanting to see what they were up to.

and then there they were.

the sight made your heart melt instantly. sylus, who always seemed so strong and serious to everyone else, was sitting cross-legged on the floor, a bright pink tiara sitting slightly crooked on his head. a sparkly purple cape draped over his broad shoulders. he had even put on a pair of glittery princess slippers that barely fit his feet. his eyes, usually so intense, were soft and full of joy.

your daughter stood on the couch, holding a toy wand high in the air, her little face filled with excitement. “daddy! there’s a dragon coming!” she said dramatically, pointing the wand toward some invisible enemy.

sylus put on a shocked expression, gasping in surprise. “a dragon? oh no!” he said, putting his hands on his cheeks as if he was truly scared. “what are we going to do, princess?”

“i’ll protect you, daddy!” she declared, her tiny voice full of determination. she waved the wand again, trying to look as brave as possible.

sylus’s face lit up with a proud smile. “you’re the bravest princess ever!” he said, his voice filled with warmth. “i know you’ll save us!”

you couldn’t help but smile to yourself, staying hidden in the doorway as you watched. it was hard to believe that this was the same man who was always so serious around others, always in control. but here, with your daughter, he was completely different. he was playful, gentle, and so full of love.

“take that, dragon!” your daughter yelled suddenly, swinging her wand through the air. sylus played along, flinching and pretending to dodge her imaginary attacks.

“oh no, you’re too strong!” he said, holding his hands up as if surrendering to her. “i can’t fight back! you’ve got me!”

“i did it!” she squealed, laughing as she jumped off the couch into his waiting arms. “i saved you, daddy! the dragon is gone!”

sylus caught her easily, spinning her around in a circle until her giggles filled the entire room. “you did it!” he said, his voice full of pride, “you saved the day, princess! you are the bravest and strongest princess in the whole kingdom!”

your daughter’s smile was so big it looked like it might burst off her face. she wrapped her arms around sylus’s neck, hugging him tightly as he held her close. you watched them, feeling warmth spread through your chest. you loved seeing them like this—seeing sylus, who was always so serious, completely wrapped around your little girl’s finger.

feeling the joy and love in the room, you decided it was time to join in. you stepped fully into the living room with a teasing smile on your face. “what’s going on here?” you asked playfully, raising an eyebrow at the sight of sylus in his sparkly cape and tiara.

your daughter gasped and wriggled out of sylus’s arms, running over to you as fast as her little legs could carry her. “mommy! mommy!” she said excitedly, grabbing your hand. “i beat the dragon! daddy was the dragon, and i saved the kingdom!”

you couldn’t help but smile as you looked at your daughter. her face was such a perfect mix of both you and sylus, a blend that still amazed you every time you looked at her. she had your dark brown hair, but there were faint silver streaks running through it—the same shade as sylus’s hair. it was like she had inherited just a touch of his unique coloring, enough to make her look like both of you in the most beautiful and unique way.

her sharp red eyes, just like her daddy’s, sparkled with joy as she played. the rest of her face—her small nose, the shape of her lips—was all you. it was like seeing a little version of yourself, but with sylus’s intensity and his striking gaze. sometimes, when she looked up at you with those bright red eyes, it took your breath away. she was a perfect blend of both her parents, and it filled you with a sense of pride and love you could barely put into words.

you laughed softly, kneeling down to her level and brushing a strand of hair away from her face. “you’re so brave, sweetheart,” you said, giving her a big hug, “and you look like the most beautiful princess in the world.”

“she really is,” sylus said, his voice tender as he watched the two of you. he stood up, still wearing the silly tiara, and walked over to you with a grin on his face. he looked so different from his usual self—so relaxed, so happy. you couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of him, reaching up to adjust the tiara that was falling off his head.

“i have to say,” you teased, “this is quite the look for you, sylus. pink really suits you.”

he chuckled, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close. “anything for my princesses,” he said softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

your daughter, feeling left out, tugged on sylus’s cape. “daddy! we have to have a royal feast! it’s what princesses do after they beat the dragon!”

sylus nodded seriously, crouching down to her level. “you’re absolutely right, princess,” he said, giving her a conspiratorial smile. “and what should our royal feast be?”

“cookies!” she said without hesitation, her eyes lighting up.

“cookies it is,” sylus said, scooping her up and carrying her toward the kitchen. “come on, my brave princess, let’s bake some cookies together.”

you followed them, laughing softly as you watched your husband—a man who had once been so distant and serious—completely melt under the adoring gaze of your little girl. it was moments like these that made you realize just how much he had changed, how much he had opened his heart to you and your daughter.

and you knew that no matter what, your family would always be full of love, laughter, and moments like this—moments where dragons were defeated, princesses saved the day, and even the most serious of men wore pink tiaras just to make his daughter smile.

as you watched sylus whisk her off to the kitchen for their “royal feast”, a memory surfaced in your mind—a tiny flashback to when you were pregnant. it had been a tough pregnancy at times, but sylus had been there every step of the way, taking care of you with a tenderness that had completely shattered his tough exterior.

you remembered the nights when he would stay awake, gently rubbing your swollen feet or running his fingers through your hair as you lay in bed, struggling to get comfortable. “you need to rest,” he would say, his voice soft but firm, as he adjusted your pillows for the hundredth time. you could still feel the warmth of his touch, the way his strong hands had been so gentle with you, always making sure you were as comfortable as possible.

and then, the day of the delivery—the most intense, overwhelming day of your life. you had been terrified, exhausted, and in so much pain, but sylus had been right there, holding your hand and whispering words of encouragement the entire time. he had never left your side, his eyes full of love and determination, telling you over and over how strong you were, how amazing you were for bringing their child into the world. the way he looked at you then had made you feel like you could do anything.

you remembered how, after hours of labor, when your daughter’s first cries filled the room, tears had streamed down sylus’s face. he had kissed your forehead, his voice breaking as he said, “you did it, my love... you’re incredible.” it was the first time you had ever seen him cry, and it was a moment you would never ever forget.

after she was born, sylus had taken on the role of caretaker with a dedication that had surprised even you. he was always there, changing diapers in the middle of the night without a single complaint, carefully supporting you as you recovered, making sure you had everything you needed. he had even held your daughter for hours at a time so you could get some much-needed sleep, his strong arms cradling her tiny body like she was the most precious thing in the world.

you were pulled out of the memory as your daughter’s laughter echoed through the kitchen. you walked over to join them, and when you stepped in, you saw sylus kneeling on the floor, his hands cupping your daughter’s cheeks as he pretended to taste-test the imaginary cookies she was “baking”. his expression was soft and full of warmth, a look he only ever showed when he was with the two of you.

“come on, mommy! help us make cookies!” your daughter called out, waving her small arms at you, her dark hair catching the light and revealing the silvery strands she’d gotten from sylus.

“i’m coming, baby,” you said, unable to hold back the sweet smile that spread across your face. you sat down next to sylus, and he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close.

he pressed a gentle kiss to your temple, his breath warm against your skin. “you okay, sweetie?” he asked softly, noticing the faraway look in your eyes.

you nodded, leaning into his touch. “just... remembering,” you said quietly, your voice full of emotion. “remembering everything you did for us.”

sylus’s eyes softened, and he gave you a small smile, pressing another kiss to your forehead. “i’d do it all over again,” he said simply, his voice full of sincerity. “for both of you.”

your daughter climbed into your lap, oblivious to the emotions between you and sylus, her eyes wide and happy. you kissed her forehead, feeling the familiar warmth of your family surrounding you. and you knew, without a doubt, that no matter what challenges came your way, you would always face them together.

because in that moment, with your daughter’s arms wrapped around you and sylus’s strong, comforting presence by your side, you knew that you had everything you’d ever need.

and you wouldn’t trade it for the world.

[squidsquidsquidsquidsquidgame]

Hello! First of all, I want to say that I love your writing. I saw that you write for BIGBANG, and here’s my idea ;) The reader is a highly successful solo artist, as acclaimed as G-Dragon, and has been secretly dating him for a few months. Both try to keep everything under wraps, away from the spotlight... or at least they try. Over time, fans of both began to suspect the relationship. The reason? Instagram posts. You shared photos at specific locations: a cozy restaurant, an exclusive Chanel event... and just a few hours later, G-Dragon posted a selfie from the exact same place. Coincidence? Definitely not. But the real chaos started on a completely unexpected day. You were doing a relaxed live stream at his house, answering fan questions and talking about your new album. Everything was going well... until, out of nowhere, he walked into the room while you were still live, completely unaware and tired from work, not even realizing you were broadcasting. He greeted you with a sweet kiss before you could say anything, and the chat went wild, causing both of you to end up revealing the relationship.

Dating who?!

Character: Gdragon/Jiyong X fem!reader

Summary:✨️ As above✨️

warnings: none

One Fanon part where everything goes well

And one canon part...and oh boy we know how things end when kpop idols date

FANON

The first rule you both agreed on: no one finds out.

It wasn't even about shame or secrets—it was about peace. Being two of the most talked-about artists in South Korea meant headlines erupted over the smallest things: outfit choices, lyrics, friendships. So dating each other? That would be media meltdown. Paparazzi whiplash. Fanbase wars. TikTok theories for months.

And so, the game of quiet glances and sneaky night drives began.

The second rule? No Instagram giveaways.

You tried. You really did.

But apparently, your fanbases had the deductive skills of MI6. You posted a blurry, romantic shot of a candlelit table at a restaurant in Hannam-dong—captioned with a simple “mood.” Three hours later, Ji-Yong uploaded a mirror selfie from the men’s room of the same place. Different angle. Same red roses in the background. Fans noticed.

Then came the Chanel event in Paris. You didn’t post photos together, of course not. But yours showed the left wing of the venue. His? The right. Same lighting. Same minute.

One fan wrote on X:

“I don’t mean to be a delulu, but G-Dragon and [Y/N] are either the best coordinated strangers on earth or they’re literally dating.”

Over 2 million likes.

And yet, both of you denied nothing, confirmed nothing. It was kind of fun, actually—this cat-and-mouse game. A private world in plain sight.

Until the Tuesday livestream.

It wasn’t even meant to be dramatic. You were at his place, in his studio, promoting your upcoming album in an easy, stripped-down way. You had tea. You wore one of his hoodies, oversized and soft, with the sleeves swallowing your hands. Fans in the comments were loving it.

> “Are you at home?”

> “No way, that’s not your studio???”

> “Why do those shelves look familiar...”

> “You and G-Dragon got the same interior designer, huh?”

You laughed it off. “I’m borrowing a friend’s space while mine gets renovated. But anyway! Track five on the album is actually—”

The door creaked.

And there he was.

G-Dragon himself, eyes sleepy, shirt untucked, running a hand through his hair as he stepped in without looking up. “Babe, did you eat—”

He froze mid-step, seeing your face. You froze too.

He blinked at the open laptop camera. “…Are you live?”

You didn’t answer fast enough.He just sighed, chuckled softly, walked over, and pressed a lazy kiss to your forehead. “Hi, guys,” he mumbled like it was no big deal—like he wasn’t one of the most recognizable people in Asia casually appearing in your frame and confirming months of fan speculation with one sleepy gesture.

The chat exploded.

> “DID HE JUST CALL YOU BABE???”

> “I KNEW IT I KNEW IT I KNEW ITTTT”

> “REPLAY BUTTON WHERE”

> “not g-dragon being boyfriend-coded omg”

> “YALL IM SHAKING”

You covered your face in embarrassment. He laughed behind you and whispered, “Should we just tell them?”

You peeked through your fingers. “I guess there’s no hiding now.

”He winked at the camera. “Hi, I’m Ji-Yong. I’ve been dating this amazing woman for a few months now. Please be kind.”

And just like that, your soft secret turned into the world’s favorite headline.

The funny thing? Neither of you regretted it.

Turns out, being seen was kind of beautiful—especially when the person beside you made everything feel like home.

CANON

Nobody really expected you and G-Dragon to fall in love.

You weren’t supposed to.

You were both titans of the industry, solo artists with global reputations, designer deals, and fanbases who practically monitored your every breath. But somewhere between mutual respect and quiet moments behind closed doors, it happened. A look across the room during an awards afterparty. A shared drink in a hidden corner of an upscale lounge. A hand brushing yours that lingered just a little too long.

And suddenly, the most powerful secret in K-pop was born.

Months of subtle glances, hushed laughter, and carefully planned getaways. You had both become masters of misdirection—separate exits, private cars, burner phones. Your DMs were a graveyard of deleted messages. But even professionals slip.It started small.

An Instagram story of you at a dimly-lit Michelin-star restaurant in Itaewon. Soft jazz playing in the background, a wine glass in your hand.

Three hours later, G-Dragon posted a selfie from the same place. Different angle. Same wine. Same jazz.

Fans caught on fast.

Reddit threads bloomed like cherry blossoms in spring. TikToks with freeze-frames and arrows pointing out identical candle placements. Some fans were rooting for you, calling you the king and queen of Korean music. Others weren’t so nice.

The theories were manageable, though. Deniable. You and Jiyong brushed it off behind closed doors, joking about it under blankets while watching reruns of Reply 1988

Then came the Chanel event.

You were invited first. Posted a picture in front of a mirrored wall in a black velvet dress, the city lights blurred behind you.

He posted later, tagging no one, but standing in front of that same mirrored wall, half-smiling in a pinstripe suit.

By then, chaos was a simmer. The media hadn't touched it yet. You thought you had time.

But then that livestream happened.

You were tired. Relaxed. Sitting in his apartment, curled up on the couch with your new album playing softly in the background. You decided to go live—nothing fancy, just chatting with fans about your inspiration and the writing process.

The living room lights were dim. You looked soft and natural in a hoodie—his hoodie.At first, everything went fine. Fans were distracted by your music updates, asking about your upcoming music video and joking about how cozy the vibe looked. Then—he came in.

Jiyong entered the room, hair messy, shirt untucked, visibly exhausted from a long day. His eyes barely registered the phone propped up. He mumbled, “Hey, baby,” and kissed the top of your head like it was the most natural thing in the world.

You froze.

The chat exploded.

"WAIT."

"IS THAT GD??"

"THEY'RE DATING???"

"Y/N LOOKS LIKE THEY WANT TO DIE"

"SOMEONE SCREEN RECORD THIS NOW"

Jiyong blinked at the camera. Slowly. "…Oh. You're live?"

You scrambled to end it. Too late. Twitter had already caught fire.

The headlines the next morning were merciless:

> “G-Dragon and [Y/N]: K-pop’s Power Couple Exposed?”

> “Dispatch Was Right: A Timeline of Their Hidden Romance”

> “YG and [Your Company] Respond to Dating Scandal”

The companies were furious.

The higher-ups called emergency meetings. Public image teams panicked.

The decision was swift, brutal, clinical: breakup. Apology videos. No exceptions.You both fought it. You begged behind closed doors. But the industry didn’t care about love. It cared about contracts, money, and optics.

You filmed the apology videos separately. Black background. Neutral clothing. Voice trembling.

You were forced to say you had made “a poor decision that caused confusion to fans.”

Jiyong was made to say he "deeply respected [you] as an artist" but that the rumors were “misunderstandings.”

You didn’t speak for a while after that. What was there to say?

But one night—weeks later—you got a text from him.

> "Same place as our first date. 11PM. Come if you want."

You went.

He was waiting at your usual booth, eyes tired but soft. You sat down silently.

After a long moment, he reached across the table, fingers brushing yours.

“I know the whole world wants us to pretend we never happened,” he said, “but I don’t think I can lie about you forever.”

You didn’t answer. You didn’t have to.

You squeezed his hand instead.

And this time, when the server brought the wine, G-Dragon pulled out his phone and snapped a photo. He posted it in real time.

And across the city, in a quiet apartment, you did the same.

Let them talk.

[sweetstrawberryys]

Just wondering if you had any thoughts on a Soap x reader first time? A la your work “When you’re ready” up to you on if it’s as fluffy as Price.

We know Papa price can be gentle as hell! But can Johnny? 🤔

(Also feel free ignore this if it’s not inspiring anything!)

I actually already had this ready. Don't know if It's exactly what you wanted. How can I ignore that btw, I love getting requests. It was supposed to be chaotic first time but if you want more emotional moments just comment and I'll make another one.🦢✨️

---

"Clumsy Hands, Clumsier Hearts"

Summary: The first time was supposed to be smooth. But between tangled limbs, rogue laughter, and Soap being a total menace, it turns out kinda perfect anyway.

Rating: Fluff, suggestive awkwardness, emotional tension

Masterlist

---

It started with a kiss that didn’t even mean to be a kiss.

One second you were laughing at Johnny doing a terrible impression of Price—complete with a fake cigar made from a pen—and the next, your faces were just too close. And then suddenly, you were kissing him. Or he was kissing you. Doesn’t really matter now. It happened.

And now… now you’re both lying on his bed, faces flushed, breath caught somewhere between excited and terrified.

His hand is on your waist. Yours is clinging to the hem of his shirt like it might float away if you let go.

“You okay?” he asks, voice softer than you’ve ever heard it.

You nod, but your voice is shaky when you say, “Yeah. Just... nervous.”

He shifts so you’re facing each other, his knee bumping against yours. “Same.”

There’s a pause.

A long one.

“You’re… really warm,” you blurt, immediately regretting it.

Johnny grins. “I’m Scottish. We run hot. Built for the cold, not for makin’ out in a bloody oven.”

You laugh—part nerves, part relief. “That’s not a real fact.”

“It is now.”

The mood softens again, your smile fading into something smaller, shakier. You look at him, really look, and it hits you all at once: this is Johnny. This is Soap, the man who makes you laugh when things are falling apart. The guy who always waits for you to catch up even when he could’ve sprinted ahead. The one who looks at you like he’s already all in.

And suddenly, the nerves aren’t just nerves. They’re weight. Pressure. What if you mess this up? What if it’s awkward, or weird, or—

You let out a breath. “What if I’m bad at this?”

Johnny’s face goes serious. “Then I’ll be bad with you.”

You stare at him.

“I mean it,” he adds. “I don’t care if we trip over each other or accidentally knee each other in the face—”

“Is that likely?”

“Statistically? With my coordination? Absolutely.”

You laugh again, and it breaks something open. The tension doesn’t go away, but it softens. Turns into something warmer, something honest.

He reaches up, brushing a thumb across your cheek. “We don’t have to rush this. We can just... be here.”

You nod, swallowing hard. “Okay. Yeah.”

Another beat.

Then you both try to move at the same time—and your elbow knocks into his ribs. He lets out a loud “Ow—bloody hell!” and you both freeze.

“Sorry!” you gasp.

He groans dramatically. “I’m dyin’. This is it. Killed in the line of duty by an overenthusiastic elbow.”

“You’re the worst.”

He grins. “And you still wanna sleep with me. What does that say about your standards?”

You flop down next to him and shove your face into his shoulder to hide your grin. “That they’re clearly in the gutter.”

But the moment holds. You don’t rush. You let your hands find each other, let your breathing slow, let the laughter settle into something quieter.

Something real.

And when he kisses you again—gentler this time—it’s less about getting it right and more about just being with him. You. Him. Figuring it out one awkward, clumsy, perfect moment at a time.

---

[fluffeebunzzz]

Love and Deepspace ✨️

The LI's being parents - Xavier, Rafayel, Zayne, Sylus and Caleb

Self insert x Reader

Warnings - none, Fluff, slight angst with Caleb if you squint on the song.

🌟 Xavier: I think would be a boy dad, I can totally see him with your son passed out on his shoulder. Taking after his dad with his excessive amount of sleep bordering on concerning. His soft little sighs as his little hands hold onto Xavier's shirt while his Dad just plops himself down onto the floor inbetween your legs. Leaning his back against the couch and leaning his head back to look at you from his position. "Requesting head rubs for me and our little star?" Who are you to deny the both of them? You have two hands, after all.

🐟 Rafayel: Rafayel is a girl dad through and through. He would be the type to spoil the hell out of your daughter and when she develops his over dramatic antics he's regularly requesting back up from you.

It all started when Thomas gifted her an artist Barbie for her birthday and since then your daughters been trying to paint everything she could get her hands on. It also didn't help that the paint she procured was from Rafayels reject bin, a mass of shades and paints that didn't pass his quality test. "No sweet pea, you can't use that shade of green, its bad. It would clash, here let me get you-", "You're bad Papa!" She would shout back at him in a childish outburst that only a toddler could do so confidently. Confidently enough that it would leave Rafayel flabbergasted while he watches her proceed to paint her Barbie car that horrible seafoam green he hated while he yells for you to come help him.

"Y/N, OUR SWEET PEAS BEEN POSSESSED."

⛄️ Zayne: Whole heartedly believe he would be a girl dad, no question about it. I can see him reading her bedtime stories and being the one to provide emergency surgeries to her stuffed animals. "Mr.Stuffins hurt his paw again? Where'd he get hurt this time snowflake?" Through fat tears holding Mr.Stuffins disembodied limb your daughter would bable back, "H-he got caught on t-the slide when I went down and I hurt him." Smiling softly he'd wipe her tears away and pat her head gently before taking the limb from her hands. "It's okay sweetheart, Papa's going to fix him right up. Do you want to help hold him steady?" Letting her know it's okay and so she can get closure on accidently hurting her stuffie.

🐦‍⬛ Sylus: Sylus I can see as having two daughters with you. You're currently pregnant with your second while sitting on the couch next to Sylus. All the while your 3 year old is digging through your hair supplies, determined to make her dad pretty. Grabbing handfuls of butterfly clips and star clips to press in, she's creating sporadic patches of hair that sticks up in small pigtails. Her hands clap together in joy as her work comes together while Sylus is gently teasing her - "Be careful, little bird. You're going to make your dad go bald." Giggles erupting from her as she grabs another clip with red gems surrounding it, reaching her small hand out to his for his approval before he laughs and gives the go ahead. (Do you or do you not feel Bonita Sylus?)

🍎 Caleb: Caleb would 100% be a dad to twins, 1 boy and 1 girl. He was absolutely ecstatic when you told him, clearing off his schedule for the next two weeks leaving Liam to handle things unless under dire means. He's immediately taking you to pick out nursery supplies, making the spareroom in Skyhaven into their nursery and getting giddy over baby clothes with you. He's already plotting out decorative themes, airplanes, ships, apples, sunflowers, you name it. His favorite nursery find in particular was the windchimes he found while picking up formula that you could program to play certain songs - his go to song for it was "You are my Sunshine".

He also knew that the pregnancy was going to take it's toll on you just due to the nature of it being twins and thus after giving birth to your twins he purchased a twin holster. That way he could keep the two strapped to his chest while they slept against him while he cooked dinner for the both of you. Your son was starting to get fussy when Caleb crouched down to grab a pot to start his soup base in as he rubs a soothing hand against his back bouncing himself on one heel as he stands. "Shhh, its okay peanut I got you. Mama's resting, are ya hungry?" He'd offer, reaching into the fridge and moving to heat up some of the milk stored for your babies. Swiftly popping a warm bottle into your sons mouth, while checking on your daughter who's still out cold on his chest. Listening to the quiet content sighs your son was making while drinking Caleb starts humming a soft nonsensical tune to himself, or should I say it's only nonsensical if you havent heard the song that would play on the windchimes in their nursery. Caleb continues cooking for you and your family. He's forever grateful to you for being back in his life and for gifting him his sunflower babies.

[magic-shop-stories]

how would bts react to their kids being disrespectful towards their wife?

💌 Reply:

Ahh, I hope this is what you wanted... I took me way too long, but I got so many ideas while writing this.

This blog is honestly turning into BTS Parent AU (crying in orphan) - I started with a J-Hope Dad fic and end up writing Dad Headcanons for whole Bangtan - well, it kinda heals my childhood lol...

Thanks for the Request and feel free to reach out 💜 and HAVE FUN reading ✨️✨️

“Respect isn’t a rule, it’s the soil we grow in. If you poison it, nothing blooms.”

NAMJOON

Philosopher-leader

introspective

values growth through empathy & dialogue

Reaction & Consequences

Initial Response:

when he hears the disrespect, his grip tightens on whatever he’s holding, knuckles whitening

closes his eyes for a beat, exhaling through his nose

you know how his jaw clenches? THAT!!!

his voice is low but steady, deliberate calm masking his hurt

“That language isn’t acceptable. Let’s take a walk.”

Internal Feelings: 

disappointment curdles in his chest

mentally files it away to process later

blames himself first before focusing on guiding his child

Teaching Moment

Nature Walk

takes his child to a quiet park or riverbank

points to tangled tree roots: 

“See how they hold each other up? Families are like that. When you hurt Mom, you shake our roots.” 

asks them to find a smooth stone and toss it into water

“Words are like ripples, once they’re out, you can’t take them back.”

Punishment

1) Apology Letter & Reflection Essay

his child writes two things

heartfelt apology to their mom, including specific examples of her sacrifices

A 1-page reflection on “How My Words Impact Others,” using a metaphor; e.g., “Anger is fire,it burns the person holding it too”

2) Community Service

would volunteer with his child at a local community garden for a weekend

“You’ll water plants and see how care grows something beautiful. Like Mom does for us.”

3) Lost Privileges

no screen time (tablet, TV) until both letters are completed to his standards

Internal Conflict

Self-Doubt:

later, he vents in his journal

 “Did I overreact? Am I too abstract for them to understand?” 

worries his calmness comes off as indifference

Frustration & Compassion

part of him wants to yell "How dare they hurt her?" but he swallows it, knowing anger won’t teach

instead, texts his wife: 

“I’m sorry you had to hear that. We’ll fix this together.”

Guilt

buys her favorite latte and leaves it on her desk with a sticky note

“You’re our bedrock. Thank you for enduring my learning curves too.”

Follow-Up

Family Meeting

gathers everyone to discuss “healthy communication.”

uses a whiteboard to map emotions

e.g., “When you’re angry, here’s how we express it without explosions”

lets his child lead part of the discussion

Ritual

starts a weekly “Gratitude Stone” tradition

each family member drops a painted stone into a bowl while sharing something they appreciate about the others

the bowl stays on the dining table as a visual reminder

_________________________________________

“Respect your mom, or I’ll revoke your WiFi and your right to laugh at my jokes. And trust me, you need both to survive.”

JIN

playful disciplinarian

fiercely protective

humor as a bridge to vulnerability

nurturing with a side of theatrics

Reaction & Consequences

Initial Response:

Dramatic Flair

whirls around, clutching his chest like a K-drama lead

“Yah! Did I just hear disrespect in this household? To the woman who gave you life? Are you a villain in a weekend drama now?” 

his voice drops, dead serious

“Apologize. Properly. Now.”

Body Language

looms over his child (playfully intimidating), arms crossed

winks at his wife to reassure her he’s handling it

Internal Feelings

hot flash of anger - How dare they hurt her?

masks it with humor to avoid scaring his kid

secretly wonders - Did I joke too much about respect? Is this my fault?

Teaching Moment

Cooking Lesson Consequences

drags his kid to the kitchen

“You think parenting is easy? Let’s see you handle dinner.” 

carefully forces them to peel garlic, chop onions, and stir a bubbling pot while he “supervises” from a stool

Metaphor Time

 “Mom’s like this stew, holds everything together. You insult her, the whole family falls apart. You wanna taste chaos? Here...” 

lets them sip over-salted broth

“See? Without her balance, life’s spicy in the worst way.”

Punishment:

Apology Performance

he'd make them sing an apology parody of Super Tuna (Jin writes lyrics if they're younger/need help) (too personal opinion)

“I’m sorry, Mom, I was a fool / I broke the golden respect rule!”

complete with fish-themed choreography

Mom’s Personal Assistant

for a week, his kid acts as Mom’s “manager”

bringing her coffee, massaging her shoulders, and taking notes on her daily tasks

“You’ll learn how hard she works and say ‘Yes, Queen’ with a smile.”

No Joke Privilege

bans his child from his dad-joke sessions (their favorite bonding time) until they earn back trust

“Comedy’s a privilege for people who respect their co-stars.”

Internal Conflict

Guilt & Second-Guessing

after bedtime, he stress-eats kimchi pancakes in the kitchen

mutters to his wife: 

“Was I too harsh? Should I have hugged them first?” 

(if she reassures him, he still texts his mom at 2 a.m.)

“How did you not disown me when I was 13 and edgy?”

Protective Fury

secretly grinds his teeth remembering the disrespect

Humor as Armor

buys his wife expensive skincare “just because”

glares at hiskid’s homework like it personally offended her

cracks a joke during the apology song

“Your high note needs work, but the remorse is chef’s kiss”

makes sure his child knows he’s dead serious underneath

Follow-Up

Family Dinner Theater

institutes a weekly “Appreciation Roast” where everyone playfully roasts each other, but he'd end up praising his child and wife

“Your mom’s so amazing, she makes the sun jealous. Fight me.”

Secret Spy Mission

assigns his kid to stealthily document Mom’s daily acts of kindness (e.g., packing lunches, fixing Wi-Fi)

“Mom Appreciation PowerPoint.” = Jin adds meme slides for flair

_________________________________________

“Your anger’s a tool. Use it to fix what you broke, not break what she fixed.”

SUGA

stoic realist

quietly protective

values actions over empty words

emotionally reserved

deeply introspective

Reaction & Consequences

Initial Response:

Cold Silence

freezes mid-task (producing beats, fixing a coffee)

eyes narrowing to slits

voice drops to a low, icy register

“Repeat that. Slowly.” 

room chills, even the air feels heavier

Body Language

leans back in his chair, fingers steepled, jaw clenched

a vein pulses at his temple, the only tell of his simmering rage

Internal Feelings

visceral flashback to his teenage self snapping at his parents

guilt claws at him

“Am I failing like I thought he did?” 

referencing his own father’s emotional distance

Teaching Moment

Studio Session

drags his kid to his home studio at midnight

slams headphones onto them

“You’re angry? Scream. Spit it into the mic. Let’s hear exactly what’s rotting in your head.” 

records their raw, unfiltered outburst

plays it back, deadpan

“This what you want your legacy to be? Noise?”

Lyric Exercise

forces them to transform the rant into structured rap verses 

“Anger’s useless if it doesn’t build something. Mom’s your hook, write a chorus thanking her.”

Punishment

Gratitude Ledger

his child must document every thing Mom does for them for a week, down to folded socks

present it as a spreadsheet

 “Numbers don’t lie. Now apologize in data.”

Manual Labor

assigns them to clean the studio top-to-bottom

“You wanna disrespect the woman who cleans your messes? Learn the weight of it.”

Tech Ban

confiscates their phone/laptop until the rap is perfected

“You’ll communicate face-to-face like we did in the trenches.”

Internal Conflict

Fatherhood Ghosts

stares at old family photos late at night

his father’s stern face haunts him

“Will my kid remember me as a wall or a weapon?” 

texts his mom

“Did I ever make you feel small?” 

she replies with a heart emoji, he saves it but doesn’t sleep

Emotional Paradox 

wants to hug his child but fears coddling

leaves a new pair of sneakers (their size) outside their door -no note

Protective Rage

slips cash into his wife’s purse with a scribbled 

“Buy silence. Spa. Dinner. Whatever. I’ll handle the chaos.”

Follow-Up

Family Cypher

hosts a living room rap battle

he goes hardest on himself

“I’m a flawed king, but Mom’s the throne. Diss her again, and you’ll rap alone.” 

his kid’s verse earns a nod

“Better. Still trash flow, though.”

Silent Ritual

every Sunday, he and his child cook his mom’s kimchi jjigae recipe

no talking, just chopping, stirring, and passing ingredients

“Respect’s in the labor,” he mutters once, and his kid finally gets it

_________________________________________

”You can’t fake respect like a bad dance cover. Nail the basics, or you’re benched from my WiFi."

J-HOPE

radiant disciplinarian

structured yet warm

balances positivity with unwavering principles

thrives on growth through accountability

Reaction & Consequences

Initial Response:

The Judge Face Activated

the moment he hears the disrespect, his signature smile evaporates

eyes narrow into a laser-focused stare

brows furrowing into "courtroom glare."

stands tall, arms crossed, fingertips tapping his biceps

silent countdown to explosion

Voice

sharp and clipped, volume rising just enough to sting

“Hold. Up. Did you just speak to your mother like that? Do you need a mirror to see how ugly that sounded?”

Body Language

steps between his child and his wife, a protective shield

his usually animated hands now rigid at his sides, fists briefly clenching

Teaching Moment

Choreography of Consequences

”Respect Rehearsal”

forces his child to practice bowing and polite phrases

”Yes, Mom,” “Thank you, Mom” 50 times in front of a mirror “You wanna act up? Perfect your performance as a decent human first.”

Gratitude Graffiti

hands them poster boards and markers

“You have one hour to turn this disrespect into art. Every color is a reason Mom deserves better.” 

stands arms crossed, critiquing laziness

“That’s yellow effort. I’ve seen your TikToks, do rainbow.”

Hope’s Homework

assigns a essay titled ”How My Words Dance on Others’ Hearts”

must include a choreography metaphor

“If you can’t write it, we’ll literalize it. Ten pirouettes per paragraph.”

Internal Conflict

Post-Punishment Panic

“Was I too much? Did I break their spirit? What if they hate me now?” 

after sending his kid to their room, he paces the kitchen

stress-eating gummy bears

texts Jimin: 

”Hyung messed up. I went full dance captain on them 😭”

Guilty Glimpses

peeks into his child’s room later, heart aching if they’re crying

leaves a bowl of their favorite fruit with a note

”Anger fades. Love doesn’t. Let’s talk tomorrow.”

Wife Reassurance

kneads his wife’s shoulders that night, voice small

“Did I… overstep? I just... I couldn’t let them think it’s okay to dim your light.” he exhales shakily

Follow-Up

Apology Showcase

makes his child present their poster and essay at a “family meeting.”

he claps loudest, eyes misty

”This… this is hope, right? Growth!”

Kindness Choreo

creates a ”Respect Routine”

his child must perform one act of service for Mom daily (e.g., making her coffee, tidying her shoes)

Dance Floor Therapy

blasts upbeat music, pulling his kid into a silly dance-off. 

”Life’s a stage, yeah? But Mom’s the main audience. Never forget.”

_________________________________________

“You’re my blood. But if you cut her, I’ll bleed harder. Fix this.”

JIMIN

affectionate empath

fiercely loyal

balances warmth with unexpected intensity

prioritizes emotional harmony

Reaction & Consequences

Initial Response:

Surprising Fury

his doe eyes harden into a steel-gray glare

voice dropping to a razor-sharp whisper

“What did you just say to her?” 

steps closer, posture taut as a bowstring

“You don’t ever speak to Mom like that. Apologize. Now.”

Body Language

hands tremble slightly, not from fear, but suppressed rage

he grips his child’s shoulder, not roughly, but firm enough to ground them

“Look at her. Look at how you made her feel.”

Internal Feelings

flash of his own childhood guilt surfaces

that time he snapped at his mother during trainee stress

his anger is laced with panic: 

“Am I repeating cycles I swore to break?”

Teaching Moment

Emotional Bootcamp

Apology Art

forces his child to create a “Heart Map” collage

photos of Mom’s sacrifices, surrounded by handwritten apologies in every color

“If you can’t say it, show it.”

sits silently beside them, tears brimming as he points to a photo of Mom staying up late with homework

Role Reversal

makes them act out a skit where they’re the parent

Jimin plays them, mimicking their harsh tone

feigns sobbing into a pillow

“Feel good? Proud? This is what you did.”

Service Sentence

his child must take over Mom’s chores for a week, packing lunches, folding laundry

he supervises, arms crossed 

“You think her love is free? It’s labor. Respect it.”

Internal Conflict

Guilt Spiral

after confrontation, he locks himself in the bathroom, splashing water on his face

“Did I scare them? What if they think I’m a monster?” 

texts Jungkook: 

”Messed up. I sounded like a monster”

Midnight Check-In

creeps into his child’s room at 2 a.m., tucking them in

whispers

“I’m sorry I yelled. But Mom… she’s my soul. You can’t break her.” 

leaves a handwritten note: 

“Anger is love that’s bleeding. Let’s heal together.”

Wife’s Reassurance

clings to her that night, forehead pressed to her shoulder

“Tell me I’m not failing. Tell me they’ll still love me.”

Soft Family Resolution

Pillow Fort Summit:

builds a blanket fort in the living room

stuffed with snacks and fairy lights

initiates a feelings circle

“I’m sorry I yelled. I felt scared; scared we’d lose us.” 

“Love is sticky, yeah? Messy. But sweet when you knead it right.” 

encourages his child to share

pulls them into a cuddle pile

Baking Therapy

bakes cookies together, Jimin guiding their hands

feeds Mom the first bite, eyes soft

Dance of Apology

plays a slow song, swaying with his child

“This is how we say sorry without words.” 

by the end, they’re both laughing through tears

_________________________________________

“Disrespect your mom, and you erase the art of our family. I’ll burn the palette until you paint her properly.”

TAEHYUNG (V)

artistic empath

whimsical yet profound

values emotional depth and creativity

fiercely protective with a tender heart

Reaction & Consequences

Initial Response:

Quiet Intensity

his playful demeanor evaporates

tilts his head, eyes narrowing into a piercing gaze

voice low and steady

“Did I just hear you disrespect the universe that holds our family together?”

his tone is velvet wrapped in steel

Body Language

steps closer, crouching to his child’s level

hands clasped tightly behind his back to avoid trembling

“You think words are just air? They’re echoes. Let’s make sure yours don’t haunt us.”

Teaching Moment

Metaphor-Driven Lesson:

”Broken Vase” Analogy

brings out a delicate ceramic vase

smashes it deliberately

“This was us. Now fix it.” 

hands them glue, forcing them to piece it back

“Apologies are glue, but cracks remain. Choose your words wisely.”

Songwriting Therapy

drags his child to the piano

“Turn your anger into music. Write a chorus for Mom, every line a reason she’s our melody.” 

plays minor chords until his child’s lyrics shift from defiance to remorse

Silent Gallery

curates a “Mom Exhibit” in the living room

photos, her favorite scarf, a recipe card

forces his child to stand there for an hour

“Breathe in her soul. Then tell me she deserves disrespect.”

Consequence

1) Art Ban

revokes access to paints, instruments, or cameras until the vase is repaired and the song is performed for Mom

“Creativity is a privilege. Use it to heal, not harm.”

2) Memory Journal: 

assigns a diary to log daily acts of kindness from Mom 

“Fill 10 pages. Then burn one and see how it feels to erase her love.”

3) Shadow Day: 

his child must follow Mom for 24 hours, documenting her tasks in a sketchbook

“You’ll learn her language of love—it’s spelled S-A-C-R-I-F-I-C-E.”

Internal Conflict

Doubt in Darkness

late at night, he stares at the fractured vase on his shelf

texts Jin: 

“Hyung, what if I’m too abstract? What if they don’t see?” 

vowing, “I’ll be the parent who stays in the frame.”

Guilt in Gestures

secretly films Mom’s daily routine, editing it into a montage set to his child’s song

leaves it on their laptop with a note: 

“Her love is your legacy. Don’t let it be a silent film.”

Protective Poetry

writes a letter he never sends: 

“I’d raze galaxies to keep you safe. Both of you.”

Resolution

Family Portrait Session

dresses everyone in coordinating hues

directing a photoshoot where Mom is the focal point

whispered to his child: 

“See how she outshines us all? That’s why we orbit her.”

Midnight Storytime

gathers them under fairy lights

recounting a fable about a boy who lost his voice after hurting his mother

ends with, “Love is the only language worth speaking.”

Collaborative Art

paints a mural together titled “Home.”

guides his child’s hand to outline Mom’s figure

“Without her, this canvas is empty. Now fill it with light.”

_________________________________________

“Disrespect Mom, and you’ll spar with me until your heart matches your mouth, strong enough to lift her, not tear her down.”

JUNGKOOK

gentle protector

resilient softie

leads by example

values hard work and emotional honesty

channels intensity into growth

Reaction & Consequences

Initial Response:

Silent Fury

freezes mid-rep at the gym, dumbbell hovering

his muscles tense like coiled springs

jaw clenched so tight his cheekbones sharpen

sets the weight down with deliberate calm, turns slowly, and locks eyes with his child

“You think you’re tough enough to disrespect your mom? Let’s test that.”

Body Language

cracks his knuckles, rolling his shoulders back

his gaze is volcanic

his voice stays eerily quiet

“Gym. Now. You wanna act hard? Be hard.”

Teaching Moment

Boxing Bootcamp

drags his kid to his home gym

forces them into gloves, pads him up, and drills combos

“Hit the pad. Harder. Harder. That’s your anger? Mom’s felt worse from your words.” 

makes them sprint between rounds

“Respect isn’t a game, it’s a discipline.”

Breakdown: mid-session, he stops, chest heaving

“You think I’m mad? I’m terrified. Because if you break her heart, I don’t know if I can fix it.”

Punishment

Labor of Love: 

assigns 100 burpees (he does them too)

“Every rep is a ‘thank you’ for Mom’s sleepless nights.”

Gratitude Gauntlet

forces his kid to handwrite 50 reasons Mom “outworks them daily.”

critiques each one

“’She drives me to school’? Weak. Dig deeper. Sacrifice.”

Tech Timeout

confiscates gaming gear until they’ve detailed Mom’s daily schedule in a spreadsheet

“You’ll see her 18-hour shift. Then we’ll talk ‘fair.’”

Internal Conflict

Regret & Vulnerability

after the workout, he sits alone in the gym, head in hands

texts Yoongi:

”Hyung, did I go full drill sergeant? What if they hate me?” 

stares at a family photo on his phone, zooming in on his wife’s smile

Guilt Gifts

sneaks into his kid’s room at dawn, leaves protein pancakes and a new hoodie (their favorite anime print)

scrawls on a napkin

”Anger fades. My love for you doesn’t. But never hurt her again.”

Protective Paradox

books his wife a solo vacation, "growling" at his kid

 “You’re stuck with me. We’re rebuilding what you cracked.”

Soft Resolution

Sparring Therapy

returns to the gym days later, gloves on

this time, he lets his child hit his pads while venting

“I get it, anger’s easy. Loving’s harder. But Mom? She’s worth the reps.” 

ends with a fist bump

Tattoo Talk

shows them his “ARMY” tattoo

“This means I fight for what I love. You’ll earn yours when you learn to fight for her, not against.”

Family Night

teaches self-defense moves

positioning Mom as the “VIP to protect.”

his kid must shield her from his playful attacks

“Guard her like she’s your last round.”

_________________________________________

[dollyswishingwell]

Okay, hear me out on this one. I've been getting a bunch of Sabrina the Teenage Witch on my fyp and now I can't stop thinking about a specific scenario where MC is a witch and has a talking cat or familiar of sorts. Idk if anyone else has done this, bit I know you'll do my vision ✨️justice✨️

Thank you pookie dookie bear ❤️❤️❤️❤️

ᯓ★ˎˊ˗ Witch

𝒲𝒾𝓈𝒽 𝑔𝓇𝒶𝓃𝓉𝑒𝒹 𝒻𝑜𝓇 ˙⋆✮ Rafayel, Zayne, Xavier, Sylus, Caleb

𝒢𝑒𝓃𝓇𝑒/𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔 ˙⋆✮ as someone who dabbles in witchcraft i had to write this immediately, it’s so fluffy and cute

> ࣪𖤐.ᐟ The boys with a witch reader

𝙍𝙖𝙛𝙖𝙮𝙚𝙡 °‧🫧⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

- Constantly accuses your familiar of stealing your attention. “Why do you kiss it goodnight first?!”

- Helps you label spell jars with glitter stickers and makes potion videos for fun, “just for us, not the internet.”

- He makes you make a love potion so you can drink it for each other.

- Uses your cauldron to boil candy. You get mad. He pouts and gives you a handful of enchanted gummies.

- Sneaks into your moon bath rituals and dumps petals in dramatically. “For love! For beauty! For me!!”

- “Witch? Please. You’re my goddess. The stars work for you.”

𝙕𝙖𝙮𝙣𝙚 ⋆꙳•❅‧*₊⋆☃︎ ‧*❆ ₊⋆

- He insists on calling your spells “experimental treatments” just to cope. But you caught him reading your grimoire once.

- Your black cat familiar hates him. It always glares from the windowsill while Zayne brushes your hair in the morning.

- He’ll let you enchant his scrubs with protective charms (as long as it’s subtle). He thinks it’s silly…until they actually work.

- Brings you rare herbs from hospital imports and makes sure you have fresh rose quartz on hand.

- If you’re tired after a ritual, he puts your familiar on his shoulder like it’s part of the household. “Come on. Your witch is passed out again.”

- “You’ll kill me one day with those potions, sweetheart.” (drinks it anyway, just because you made it.)

𝙓𝙖𝙫𝙞𝙚𝙧 ⋆⭒˚.⋆🪐 ⋆⭒˚.⋆

- He understands your familiar perfectly. They often whisper to each other behind your back, plotting treats and surprise naps.

- You once caught Xavier floating while dusting the library, a candle balanced on his head. “That’s not a spell,” you said. “Isn’t it?” he replied.

- He loves your nightly tea rituals. You stir sugar clockwise to sweeten your fate together. He watches you, eyes soft.

- Always falling asleep with your spellbooks in his lap and your familiar curled against his neck.

- The two of you once enchanted your entire penthouse to shift its decor seasonally. Xavier added a snowflake charm in the corner just for you.

- “Your magic tastes like honey. I like it.” (He nuzzles your neck while you stir a love charm.)

𝙎𝙮𝙡𝙪𝙨 ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𓅨⋆｡°✩

- “Why settle for potion jars when I can build you an underground crystal lab?” (He does. With biometric locks.)

- Your familiar is oddly loyal to Sylus. It sits on his throne and only moves when you tell it to.

- He lets you read his enemies’ fortunes with your cards, then kisses your knuckles as you whisper who’ll betray him.

- Brags that his wife could curse anyone in high society, and they’d still beg her for tea.

- Secretly wears a cursed ring you gave him “for protection.” He pretends it’s just a fashion statement.

- “You’re my little witch. My spoiled, dangerous, sweetly wicked housewife.”

𝘾𝙖𝙡𝙚𝙗 ⋆｡ ‧˚ʚ🍎ɞ˚‧｡ ⋆

- Walks into the kitchen to find you chanting over a jam jar and nearly faints. “Pipsqueak, are you summoning something?”

- He built a protective rune wall around the penthouse but pretends he did it “just for fun.”

- When your familiar gets sassy, he picks it up by the scruff and lectures it like a tiny general.

- Gets you to make love charms so he can carry it around with him cause it makes his head woozy with overwhelming love for you (more than normal…don’t know how it’s possible)

- Brings you moon-charged water from the Skyhaven labs for your potions. Won’t admit it’s sweet.

- “You’re not allowed to go into the astral plane alone again. I nearly lost my mind.” (Hugs you so hard your spell candles flicker.)

[solxamber]

Octavinelle, 9, Fluff! (a hint of comedy is also fine ^^)

Prompt: I see the stars in your eyes

Thank you in advance and for all the work you've made thus far, Sol! Happy holidays ✨️

thank you! and happy holidays <3

Flirting 101 || Azul Ashengrotto

For the Holiday Event! || Prompt: "I see the stars in your eyes" ; Genre: Fluff

Azul was always composed. A businessman, a planner, a dealmaker. He could handle chaos in Mostro Lounge, manage unruly customers, and sweet-talk his way out of nearly anything.

But when you were around, he somehow became a blubbering idiot.

"Are you a magician?" you asked, resting your chin on your palm as you watched him sort through contracts behind the Mostro Lounge counter.

Azul didn’t look up, but his pen paused mid-signature. "No," he replied cautiously.

"Because whenever I look at you, everyone else disappears."

The pen dropped. Azul’s hand twitched, and he slowly looked up, meeting your gaze like you’d just informed him the Lounge had been set on fire.

"Why would you say that?" he demanded, his voice an octave higher than usual.

"Because it’s true," you said with a grin.

Azul flushed so fast you were worried he might actually pass out. "Stop," he muttered, adjusting his glasses even though they didn’t need adjusting.

"Stop what?" you asked innocently.

"The—this. Whatever this is!" He gestured wildly at you like you were some kind of enigma he couldn’t solve.

"It’s called flirting, Azul," you said, standing up. "I know you’ve read about it in books."

Azul groaned, rubbing his temples. "Why are you like this?"

"Because I like you," you said, stepping closer. "Obviously."

He froze, his entire body going rigid. "You’re lying," he said weakly.

You rolled your eyes. "Oh, yeah, Azul, I’m lying about the fact that I can’t think straight when you’re in the room. It’s all an elaborate prank."

Azul looked at you, scandalized. "Why would you admit that so casually?"

"Because it’s true!" you exclaimed, throwing your hands up. "Do you think I spend my time dropping pick-up lines for anyone else? You’re special, you octopus dork!"

He opened his mouth to retort, but you didn’t give him a chance. "You know what, forget it," you said dramatically, stepping even closer. "I see the stars in your eyes, Azul Ashengrotto."

The silence that followed was deafening.

Azul’s face went so red you thought steam might actually start pouring out of his ears. He covered his face with both hands, groaning like you’d just physically knocked the air out of him.

"You—! That’s—!" He couldn’t form a complete sentence.

"Yes?" you prompted, grinning.

"Are you being serious?" he finally managed, peeking at you through his fingers.

"Of course, I’m serious!" you huffed. "I’ve been in love with you for ages! It’s not exactly subtle!"

Azul looked like he might combust. He let out a strangled noise and turned away, muttering something incomprehensible under his breath.

"Azul," you said softly, stepping around to face him. He was still hiding behind his hands.

You reached up, gently pulling them away, and he didn’t resist, though his eyes darted everywhere except to yours. "Look at me," you said, and his gaze reluctantly met yours.

"I love you," you said plainly. "Get over it."

Azul blinked. His lips parted, but no sound came out.

So, you kissed him.

His reaction was immediate. He froze, his hands gripping your arms as though he couldn’t believe this was happening. When you pulled back, his face was a spectacular shade of crimson.

"You’re the worst," he muttered, his voice cracking slightly.

"And you’re in love with me," you teased, smirking.

Azul groaned, covering his face again. "How am I supposed to go back to work after this?"

"Easy," you said, patting his cheek. "Just remember that your super cool, incredibly attractive partner is waiting for you."

Azul let out a defeated laugh, shaking his head. "You’re going to be the death of me."

"Not before I get to kiss you again," you retorted, grabbing his tie to pull him in for another kiss.

Masterlist

[reysdriver]

Hey darlin'! I just saw your one-shots and i REALLY love them!! I need morr about Eddie with Hopper!Reader <33 Please!! A fluff or a smut where the Reader have to deal with her father. Hope you can answer. Have a nice day!! ✨️

-🩷

You and Eddie try to have a chill night in, but it's difficult when you have the world's most paranoid chief of police as a father — eddie x fem!hopper!reader fluff

warnings: none

words: 1.2k

a/n: thanks for submitting a request! I'm sorry it took so long, I've been so busy lately, and I'm sorry I couldn't figure out how to end it lmao but I really hope you like this fic!!

Even though your dad knew about you and Eddie dating, he was definitely not as okay with it as you would have hoped, but honestly more than you had expected. 

He had met Eddie a few times since he found out you were in romantic cahoots with the familiar criminal, and despite your fears, they had gotten along quite well despite their history and their differences. But no matter how many things they actually had in common, no father would fully trust Eddie Munson to be alone with his little girl. 

“Door open three inches!” Your dad called from the couch. “You know the rules!”

You rolled your eyes, standing up from the bed to open the door to Hopper’s liking. 

The door was open three inches, and you swore that it was the draft causing the door to move slightly, but you knew your dad would never believe you. 

“Seriously, Dad?” You asked him. 

“Rules are rules.” He confirmed. “If you don’t like it, then the boyfriend can go.”

You let out a heavy, dramatic sigh before returning to your boyfriend, who was currently sketching out a Dungeons and Dragons character based on you for his new campaign. 

Eddie looked up from his paper when you sat back down next to him. “You can do a lot with three inches, you know?”

You put a finger over his mouth—which he playfully tried to bite—and you shushed him while holding back a laugh at his incredibly stupid, albeit funny, joke. 

“He’s gonna hear you, and he’s gonna drag you out of here. Keep drawing.”

He put the finishing touches on his design, then let out a sound of satisfaction over it before turning the notebook so you could see it better. 

“I think I did pretty good.” Your boyfriend proclaimed. “She’s almost as pretty as you.”

Oh, how you lucked out with this mysterious dork. You thanked him by pressing a quick kiss on his cheek before your dad became suspicious of you two once again. 

“You think I should get it as some ink?” Eddie asked you. 

“Like, you want to get it tattooed?”

Eddie nodded, eyes going back and forth between you and the cartoon version of you that he just made. 

“Absolutely not.” You replied. 

“What? Why not? Do you not love me enough to let me tattoo you on me?”

He was ridiculous, staring at you with big, fake puppy dog eyes and a pleading lip. 

“Of course I love you, but as your girlfriend, I also need to stop you from doing stupid things.”

“What if I keep your tattoo separate from the creepy skulls and spiders?”

Well, that was an offer you almost couldn’t refuse. Even though it was tempting, you would never let him know that he can get to you like that, so you played it cool.

“Ask me again in a year.”

His face erupted into a devilish smile and he held his hands to his chest like a cartoon character in love. 

“I’m getting a tramp stamp of my girlfriend in a year!”

Before you could protest his proclamation, he pulled you into his arms in what you hoped was just a teasing gesture rather than a genuine expression of excitement for something you were certainly not going to let happen. 

Just a second later, your dad cleared his throat very pointedly, which practically frightened you out of your boyfriend’s arms. 

“El wants to watch a movie.” He announced. “Come watch with us.”

You sat up and shook your head lightly. “Um, no thanks, Dad. We’ll pass on that.”

Your dad raised an eyebrow and looked at Eddie’s arm around your waist. “You have something better to do?”

It was at that point that you knew him telling you about your sister and the movie was an order, not an invitation. You bit the inside of your cheek and luckily, Eddie spoke up before you could say something snarky. 

“A movie sounds great, chief. Count us in.”

“Good.” Hopper said curtly before turning around to the living room. 

Eddie stood up and started teasingly pulling you off the bed. You laid down and let out an annoyed groan, resisting his attempts to move you. 

“C’mon, babe, movie time.” Eddie encouraged. 

“It’s just gonna be The Wild Bunch. That’s one of their favourite movies and I know El’s been wanting to see it again lately.” You mumbled. “I’d much rather stay here with you.”

“Well, your dad might never let me back in your house if he thinks I’m trying anything with his daughter in the other room, so we have to. Plus, I like The Wild Bunch too.”

Your face formed an exaggerated frown as you finally got up off the bed. 

Eddie smiled and escorted you to the living room. And although you had just started to build up excitement within you for this movie night, it already got worse. 

El was in her favourite recliner—the VHS case for The Wild Bunch was on her lap, you called it—but your dad had plopped himself down in the exact middle of the couch. Not only did you have to watch a movie with your family instead of chilling with your boyfriend, but you couldn’t even sit next to him because your dad hates the idea of you having fun. 

Before you knew it, you were in a full on stare-down with the Hawkins chief of police. 

“Take a seat.” He said passive aggressively. 

“I want to sit next to Eddie, Dad. Could you move over?”

He shook his head. “I’m not falling for any of your tricks. I was a teenager once.”

“Yeah, like a thousand years ago.” You mumbled. 

The comment was quiet but your dad still heard it. 

“Careful, any attitude and I’ll assume it came from the moron and he won’t be allowed back in the house.”

You looked over at Eddie with a defeated expression on your face. He looked back at you, sympathetic and willing to comply—the latter was a complete switch from his normal mood.

Your boyfriend understood completely why your dad was worried about you and Eddie dating, but that didn’t mean he was happy about it. Of course, Eddie was willing to do whatever he could to seem like the boyfriend every parent would want for their daughter—he really was, some people just couldn’t look past the exterior shell to see it—so he held his tongue and went along with anything. 

The two of you sat down on opposite sides of the couch, separated by your relentless father. 

“Alright, El, play the movie.” Hopper said. 

He then leaned back and kept his eyes on the television in front of you all. 

Eddie soon caught your gaze from across the couch, and he stretched his arm behind his head, oh so conveniently placing it a few inches from your shoulder.

You grinned at him, keeping it subtle, and took his hand in yours. 

The two of you watched the rest of the film like that, holding hands in that slightly uncomfortable way, and the night wasn’t as insufferable as it seemed like it was going to be. All thanks to Eddie, of course.

[libraryraccoon]

A Penguin And The Angel Of Death

Gift for : @deadghosy

Gender : Penguin

Pronouns : They/Them

Message of Raccoon : I just really wanted to write Azrael with Penguin!Reader, so I try.

TW : bad english, english isn't my first language.

How you met Azrael is a mystery for everyone.

Azrael had heard about Heaven and Hell fighting over a penguin, and he decided to go check it out.

"So you're the famous Penguin." -Azrael, seeing you for the first time.

Friendship. Instantly.

He was your platonic soulmate.

I can see Azrael taking you flying with him. Imagine being a normal angel or demon, looking up and seeing the angel of death flying, holding a penguin in his arms.

The day of the trial, you and Azrael were watching everything from the sidelines, eating popcorn.

“Do you think they know you’re going to stay with me ?” -Azrael, watching the scene while eating popcorn, amused.

You made a penguin noise that can be translates as "Sshh, this is starting to get interesting." -Penguin!Reader, watching the scene like a TV novela.

Azrael speaks penguin. Don't ask how, he just do it.

"Guardship returns to.." Sera paused, either in disbelief or to be dramatic. “Azrael ?!” Certainly the first.

“Yo bitch.”

They looked at him as if they were seeing him for the first time- they hadn't even noticed him.

"WHAT ?! BUT HE DON'T EVEN KNOW THEM !" -Lute.

You worried for a second for Azrael's safety before remembering that he was the Angel of Death and that he was in no danger.

Lucifer looks at his brother, feeling betrayed that he is taking one of his children away from him.

Azrael walked out of the room with you in his arms, happy of the trial he saw today.

Azrael is like your cool dad who takes you everywhere with him and takes you wherever you want.

Azrael can go to Heaven, Hell or even Earth just with a snap of his fingers, say your destination and he'll take you there with no problem.

You often go to Hell and Heaven because you are attached to the people that are there.

Azrael only leaves you alone with Lucifer or Emily.

Lucifer is basically your uncle who babysits you all the time.

You have met Big G and the other archangels. I don't make the rules, as soon as Azrael won your guardship, he introduced you to the rest of the family.

You are the archangels' favorite nephew and Big G's favorite grandchild.

I just know that you and Big G spent hours on grandpa-grandchild outings. You go to the beach, get ice cream, play jokes on others... until Azrael comes to pick you up.

I headcanon that you help Gabriel in his work as a messenger.

It was you who passed the message of Sir Pentious being in Heaven to Charlie, telling her that redemption was possible.

It was your first message, Gabriel and Azrael were very proud of you after you managed to successfully transmit it.

They had a party to celebrate it.

No one can fuck with you.

Literally, you have Azrael, Big G and all the archangels on your side. Upsetting you/being on your bad side is a death sentence.

Lute and Adam are so disgusted that Azrael stole you - like you can feel their jealousy at 3000km/h.

Azrael just smiled at them before calling you “his son/daughter/child” in front of them just to piss them off.

And it works.

I can see Alastor trying to make a deal with Azrael for you to stay at the Hotel, Azrael just looks at him like "Really now ?"

Needless to say, it never worked and if it wasn't for you, he would have already killed the deer demon.

The angels find it adorable that the fearsome angel of death is walking around with a little Penguin, it's just too cute for them.

Family dinners are ✨️beautiful✨️

Beautiful in the sense that it's chaotic and it's never bored.

Usually family dinners are you, Big G, Azrael, Lucifer, Charlie, and the other archangels.

But one day you invited Emily, Sera, Adam and Lute to join you..

Let's say you weren't bored during all the dinner.

The best moments are those of hugs.

Hugs with Azrael are the best because he wraps his wings around you while carrying you. It's so quiet and peaceful that it puts you to sleep, which is very useful especially when you can't fall asleep.

Hugs with the whole family are... interesting ?

I mean, from the outside it looked like a mess of nameless feathers-

You are always in the middle of family hugs.

Azrael almost executed all the exterminators after learning about the extermination that was directed against the hotel when you were in it..

LET ME CANONIZE PROTECTIVE!DAD!AZRAEL.

[yvesssssssss]

👹 <YOU WILL NEVER STOP HEARING ABOUT ME !!!)

OH NO, A MONSTER!!!

🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️👹

🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️💥

🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️

YAY, THE MONSTER IS DEAD!!!

Hiiii!!! 🎀🎀🎀

I was thinking about : how would the Sakamoto Days Men react to their s/o refusing to go to bed after catching a cold???

YOU'RE THE BEST WRITER 🎀🎀🎀

S/o catches a cold

—nagumo, gaku, uzuki

Thank you bb!! Hope you enjoy 💞

Nagumo yoichi

He notices your flushed cheeks, stuffy nose, and the stubborn way you’re pacing around instead of lying down.

"You know, if I didn’t love you, I’d be filming this for blackmail. You look like a zombie with a mission."

Despite the teasing, he’s hovering. He brings over a blanket, plops it over your head like a cloak, and starts gently steering you toward bed.

"Come on, Princess Plague. If you collapse from fever in the kitchen again, I’m not cleaning it up this time."

If you still resist, he dramatically faints on the couch like,

"Oh nooo… my beloved… she won’t survive unless I get a goodnight kiss from a fevered maiden… guess I’ll perish..."

Eventually, he just scoops you up bridal-style, humming some dumb lullaby until you’re in bed. Once you’re tucked in, his voice softens:

"Don’t push yourself. I’ll take care of things. Just rest, okay?"

Gaku

Gaku walks in, sees you trying to clean or cook while obviously sick, and nearly explodes.

"Are you stupid?! You’re literally dying and you’re worried about chores?!"

He doesn’t know how to handle sick people, but he does know you shouldn’t be standing up. So, he panics a little and then defaults to action: snatches the mop from your hand, throws a blanket over your shoulders like it’s armor, and grumbles:

"You’re gonna rest whether you like it or not. Don't make me duct tape you to the bed."

If you try to argue, he grabs a thermometer and glares at you like it’s a weapon:

"I swear if you spike a fever and don’t rest, I’m calling Kumanomi to come drag your ass to bed."

He’s clumsy but deeply concerned. Once you’re finally in bed, he sits on the floor next to you, arms crossed, watching you like a guard dog.

Uzuki kei

Uzuki doesn’t say much at first. He watches you stubbornly push through your cold, eyes unreadable, lips tight. Then, very softly:

"Why are you doing this to yourself?"

He doesn’t raise his voice, but his tone holds a quiet intensity. If you say you’re fine, he tilts his head slightly, like he’s analyzing your body language.

"You’re shaking. Your body needs rest. That’s not weakness—it’s survival."

He’s calm but firm. He’ll gently take whatever you’re doing from your hands, wrap your fingers around a cup of warm tea, and guide you to the couch or bed without force—but with a resolve that’s hard to refuse.

"Let me worry about everything else. Just close your eyes. I’ll be right here."

And he stays. Reading beside you. Watching over you like a quiet shadow, tucking the blankets tighter if you shift too much in your sleep.