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He cut Veronica
Day 17 of October Practice
Prompt: Hidden murder
Content warnings: Implied murder, implied depressive symptoms, mild bruise, mariticide
Cdta belongs to @missr3n3
02:00 A.M - May 7th, 1960
Waymond woke up in cold sweat. Another nightmare where he was chased down and killed by some unearthly creature.
Sitting up and touching his own face to confirm he was still alive, he felt his wife shift in bed to look at him.
“Ray? What happened?” Veronica asked tiredly.
“Nothing, nothing. Just a weird dream.” He tried to avoid revealing the problem, but she quickly realised what it was.
“Love, we need to get you to a doctor. You've been having nightmares every night for weeks. This isn't normal.”
He locked eye contact with her for a while. Veronica was a stern woman, no matter how sweet she could manage to be when in a good mood. Waymond had always had some difficulty reading her, but tonight, he could see she really was worried.
He closed his eyes and gave a heavy sigh. He didn't want to admit it, either to himself or to her, because then his nightmares would make sense, but he was afraid of her. Afraid of the wife who prized family above all and on who he was financially dependent on.
“No need to, I'll be fine, I promise.” He tried to calm her down, though not to reassure her, because the only person who could reassure Veronica was herself.
-
November 12th, 1963
Gustaf Bellman could be a complicated man to talk to. Having been a soldier in the Great War, he constantly suspected everything and everyone, and many found him annoying. Waymond knew, for one of those people was his own mother.
But he also knew that no one he was aware of hated his father so much to want to kill him, or convince him to do so to himself.
The call had come the previous week, just minutes after they'd woken up, to tell him they had found his father hanged in his bedroom. He had cried then, and he cried now at the funeral, staring at the casket. His dad had been strict, insensible sometimes even, enough for his mom to divorce him, but he had never yelled at or beaten him.
Standing beside him, though, Veronica looked detached, no sorrow or pain in her expression. His father hadn’t been the kindest person to her, always accusing any perceived mistake as being intentional, or any hard times for the family somehow being her fault, but despite all that, he had thought Veronica would react in a more humane way.
It hurt him more than expected, seeing his wife seemingly unaffected.
A nasty, horrible thought emerged in Waymond’s mind, the possibility that she might have something to do with this, but he quickly pushed it aside.
He just needed to give himself time to calm down from today.
-
00:15 A.M - August 3rd, 1961
He hadn't been able to sleep. Sitting down at the empty kitchen table, hands on his face, trying to stop all the thoughts running through his head.
James, his wife's brother, had invited them to his baby daughter's first birthday. He and his own wife had just… looked so happy together, so in love with each other.
Waymond didn't think he had ever felt that way with Veronica.
His family gave him stability and warmth, but it couldn't fill the void he had been feeling.
Whether eating with his wife and child, or in moments alone like this one, he always found that a deep, inexplicable loneliness settled over him.
He loved his family, and he knew they loved him back, but sometimes, as he stood in the doorway and watched them, he felt like an outsider looking in, close enough to see the happiness, yet too distant to truly share in it.
Lucille would run up to him, her little arms outstretched, and he’d lift her, feel her joy, and just as quickly, that strange hollow ache would return.
-
June 25th, 1950
The applause echoed in the small room as Waymond and Veronica pulled back from their kiss, now officially husband and wife. Veronica had a bright smile, that almost felt contagious. Waymond smiled back, locking eyes as they stood before the small gathering of family and close friends.
But as they walked out of the courthouse hand in hand, a faint, unsettling feeling of loss clung to him. Freedom, that was the word that lingered in the back of his mind, an idea that felt almost blasphemous on a day like this. Yet there it was, quietly swallowing his thoughts, reminding him of something he’d had that now felt out of reach.
He glanced over at her, how radiant she was, and he tightened his grip on her hand, as though that might silence the doubt inside him. He loved her, and he knew he’d made this choice with full intent. But the truth was undeniable: with this union, he felt that he’d left something essential behind, something he feared he might never get back.
A union that elevated him in the eyes of everyone else, but that at the same time made him feel like he was sinking.
-
06:00 P.M - September 30th, 1965
Veronica had gotten sick, and despite having employees, had insisted that the bakery close for the day. She was hiding something, and years of suspicion finally boiled over.
Waymond had to find out.
What he hadn't expected to find, after picking the lock to the bakery's basement, was the gruesome scene before him. The sun was setting already, but that did not explain how or why something in the shadows was talking.
"Veronica is coming"
He could hide and wait for her to leave. He didn't know just what she was capable of.
"This is going to be fun!"
"Veronica is here"
He hid behind the door, ready to hold his breath. He could hear her walking- no- stomping towards the kitchen's door to the basement.
"Here comes Veronica"
The door opened in a brute way, but fortunately it didn't hit him. He held his breath, preparing to run towards the exit as fast as possible, and if he was lucky, reach the police station.
The lights were turned on, and she started searching around for the intruder.
He was about to bolt out of that hellhole, when, in misfortune, she caught him from the corner of her eye.
The voices got overwhelming.
"Do it!"
"Will you leave?"
She looked surprised to see him out of all people, and as she hurriedly headed towards him, he realized that he didn't have much time.
Bringing the screwdriver he was holding, the one he had used to open the door, up in the air, he struck her face. There wasn't much blood, the wound wasn't a large one, but he had still done it, he had still cut her face.
"He cut you! He cut you!"
She collected some blood with her finger, and when she locked eyes with him again, he almost froze. Waymond didn't remember ever seeing Veronica truly angry, but maybe that was why it scared him so much. He needed to make a run for it, now or never.
"You better start running!"
"Run"
And he did.
He had to reach the front door before her.
She stomped angrily towards him, her cheek stained, the cut on her face dripping a slow trickle of blood that she hadn’t wiped away.
His vision got blurry as soon as he stepped into the kitchen, he didn't know why, but before he noticed, he had slipped on something, falling on his face to the floor.
"Here is Veronica"
Waymond tried to drag himself away, but she pinned him down with her own body, far stronger than one might assume from just looking at her.
The last thing he saw after turning his head around was his wife lifting a rolling pin far up the air, with nothing but anger in her face.
There was no hesitation, no remorse, when she brought it down violently with a sickening crunch.
Then, darkness.
-
October 15th, 1965
It was early in the morning when her husband's funeral could finally be held.
She had wanted it to be a small, private thing, and everyone had respected it. They thought she needed to take her time after Waymond's sudden murder, but the truth was simply that Veronica did not wish for more stress.
Between destroying the evidence, the investigation, having to close down the bakery temporarily and now being a widowed mother, she wasn't in the mood to handle large groups of people giving her and her family their condolences.
Lucille was still crying, even if she had already told her the truth of why it had been necessary, but she couldn't really judge her daughter. Waymond had still been the girl's father, and they had been far closer than Veronica herself had ever been with their child, so she could only let the small girl keep crying for a father so dear, no matter how inconvenient his actions had managed to be.
But Veronica didn't cry, or feel sad, or scared for the future.
As her husband was given his last farewell, she just stared blankly, feeling no guilt whatsoever.
#october practice#op day 17#writing practice#my writing#cdta#cut down the altar#cdta in mortality#cdta the evenskas#here's a brand new family tag#and they're just as important as the bilcannas#tw murder#tw mental health#tw mariticide#missr3n3#might add more tags later
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little rich boy sirius who gets disowned and can barely survive without his expensive brands and the basic human need to eat at least once a day meeting the entirely too generous james potter who just falls for the vanity and sincerity of the reformed rich boy and decides that once sirius stops caring about brands and status and rich boy things and just cares about what matters in life he decides to spoil his boyfriend to pieces because he’s secretly sitting on a fucking fortune
#idk i just think it’s funny#like james would find sirius when he’s struggling with money because he’s so bad at saving and prioritising his spendings because he’s never#had too before and so james would teach him how to do all that stuff and emotionally support sirius through it all and sirius just falls in#love with this beautiful guy who’s just so generous and who teaches him so many things and finds value in kindness and sincerity and#compassion and all that jazz and james falls in love with sirius helplessly because he might be stuck up and vein and kind of selfish and#is stuck up and cares all too much about status but he’s trying so hard to be better and he finds empathy because sirius got kicked out for#the worst reasons because he’s always been the black sheep of his highly cultist christian family or whatver and he’s also outwardly queer#and james decides that he wants to give sirius everything and loves the way he looks in expensive makeup and designer faux fur coats and#heels and divine jewellery and all that jazz but makes sirius sell it all and learn what it means to be human and not rely on money and#status and brands and stuff and sirius learns what it’s like to be decent and in touch with humanity and only then does james take sirius on#a surprise luxury holiday for his birthday or something and then just buys him thousands of dollars worth of all these glamorous looking#things and sirius is like omg what the fuck jamie and then he just becomes sirius’ sugar daddy because he can’t help himself but they’re#also in love and much better people because of it and when sirius buys things now it’s not because of brands or because they have big price#tags like he used too. he now buys things with james’ credit card he keeps in his own wallet because he thinks he’ll feel pretty in them or#because he thinks james will loose it if he sees sirius walking around in it or if he sees a really cute toaster that sends him into a#frenzy that has him spending all way too much on an impromptu kitchen renovation but james doesn’t care because as long as his boyfriend is#happy and actually paying attention to the price of things and calculating the best value and taking james’ opinion as well and just being#happy and safe and accepted in his new home and family here with his jamie#please i think they’d be so cute ugh!!!#prongsfoot#bambibelle#drabble#fic idea#marauders#james potter#sirius black#jay talks
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Wait why were you in israel/palestine? Aren’t you canadian?
I am. A friend of my family was traveling from Egypt to Jerusalem on pilgrimage and someone who had reserved a spot in the group had to drop out, so there was a last-minute seat available and they asked me if I was interested.
Life is short, and it wasn't the sort of trip I'd be able to afford on my own in a million years, so I tagged along as the token agnostic.
And I'm glad I did, because a few months later some of the places we'd visited were leveled flat.
A lot of beautiful, rolling green hillsides are charred dust now, and good, kind people are dead.
Buildings we slept in are gone. Children who waved to us in the street are gone. Small shops and vendors and houses are gone. Old men gathered together to smoke and chat in little rooms by the streetside are gone.
Passing from Israel into Palestine was a visible, abrupt switch from a modern city not unlike Vancouver to a slum. Like some of the reservations I've been to here up north that go to shit sometimes, where the Chief and his family all have brand new BMW's and nobody else has had their plumbing fixed.
Buildings were repaired with minimal supplies, trash was gathered in the streets, and the roads were bare dirt for long stretches at a time. You could tell that this wasn't a place being treated kindly, but people were doing their best. Everyone we met treated us well. Everyone we met was kind, and welcoming, and generous.
One man I spoke with said he was hoping to come to Canada someday. Take his family and live here. He asked how cold it got.
I told him that their winter was like our summer. He didn't like that- said he didn't like being cold.
I told him to wait for summer, then, and he could visit with me. Told him everywhere he'd have to see when he arrived, all the best landmarks and museums.
The first bombs dropped before winter.
I don't know if he waited.
#Sorry#Was going to talk about this trip forever ago#But it didn't feel right#Right time never really came up#Death cw#🍉
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getting married headcanons / arcane women x fem! reader
the thought of marriage and weddings have been on my mind for weeks now and i’m not sure why, but i’m a sap like that. i also haven’t been able to find many fics in the arcane tags about marriage so i figured i’d write my own :)
i’m getting to requests as quickly as possible! my first final is this friday and i’m kinda freaking out. things should speed up once im on winter break!
summary: headcanons of what it would be like marrying arcane characters.
characters included: jinx, vi, mel, sevika, caitlyn.
tags/warnings: fluff. SO much fluff. mentions of (happy) crying, mentions of drinking, s2 spoilers / mentions of death (caitlyn), slight hurt/comfort
men dni.
jinx;
✧.* you had spoken of marriage before, and every time you did, jinx became incredibly emotional. the girl had never seen marriage as something in the cards for her. a master criminal, a symbol, a living martyr? sure. but never a wife. so when you brought up the fact that you one day wanted to marry her, she was inconsolable in the best way possible.
✧.* to think that someone loved her enough to want to marry her, to want to spend the rest of their life by her side was unreal. she never thought she would have that.
✧.* so naturally, when you got down on one knee in front of jinx and opened a velvet box, presenting her with a shining diamond- jinx was in hysterics. she immediately broke into a fit of tears. blubbering, she nodded frantically, shakily taking your hands in hers. you felt a few tears of your own fall from your eyes as you slipped the ring onto her finger.
✧.* "yes, yes, yes- oh god, yes, i want to marry you. are you sure, though? i mean... will i make a good wife? are you sure you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody like me?"
✧.* "yes, jinx. i want all of it. all of the chaos, all of the mischief and adventure. all of you."
✧.* jinx immediately makes it a point to show off her brand-new, shiny ring to absolutely everyone. she’s engaged now, and she’s gonna make it everybody’s problem. she would go into sevika’s usual spot- a local casino just to track her down and shove her hand in her face. sevika would just raise an eyebrow, and look back up at jinx. seemingly unamused.
✧.* “i’m a fiancée now! see?”
✧.* “i can see that.”
✧.* “you can at least act like you’re excited for me!”
✧.* jinx’s favorite part of being engaged is probably planning the wedding. she makes almost all of the decorations herself- centerpieces, messy tablecloths, colorful banners. they’re crude and chaotic, but they’re jinx.
✧.* you do manage to talk her into letting a friend make flower arrangements and cater, though.
✧.* while jinx wants to look nice for her big day, she doesn’t really put that much thought into what she wears, instead wanting to hear your input. if you want her to wear a suit, she’ll do so! if you’d rather see her in a dress, fine by her. however, i can’t see her in an extravagant wedding gown… probably something simple.
✧.* she does insist on wearing her hair in a single braid, though.
✧.* jinx wants a small wedding, at a local empty hall she can decorate however she pleases. close friends and (your) family are the only guests welcomed.
✧.* when the day of the wedding comes, jinx is both ecstatic and a nervous wreck. a million thoughts are swirling through her mind, whispering to her from every angle. what if you leave her at the altar? what if you get cold feet? but the fact that you are there, she knows you’re here for the long haul, is what grounds jinx.
✧.* jinx somehow convinced vi to walk her down the aisle.
✧.* it actually wasn’t hard at all, she’s just exaggerating. despite the strains and tainted history between the two, vi wouldn’t miss the chance to see her little sister get married for anything in the world.
✧.* when she walks down the aisle, she’s the first one at the altar. twiddling with her thumbs, eyes darting around the hall.
✧.* when she finally sees you being walked down, though, jinx isn’t able to hold back her tears. it starts out small, then a dam breaks. you just look so beautiful.
✧.* it comes time for the reading of vows, and jinx’s voice is trembling. bless her, she’s sniffling and trying through shaking hands to unfold the paper.
✧.* “i’m not good with words, you know this. i never have been. but you make it so easy. i’ve never felt more like myself with someone, never felt so loved and cared for. i still wonder why you chose to marry someone so chaotic, a ‘master criminal,’ as the pilties put it. but i can’t explain how grateful i am. you love me for everything that i am, and everything i’m not. it’s you and me, always. i love you.”
✧.* after exchanging rings, jinx is practically pouncing on you to close the distance between you. the exact moment the officiant says ‘you may now kiss.’
✧.* jinx is completely different during the reception. the music selection is so perfectly her, but also so you. she’s (horribly) dancing, tugging your wrists to invite you to dance with her. whooping and singing along to the music. this is the happiest you’ve ever seen jinx. your wife.
vi;
✧.* vi is also someone who never saw herself getting married, honest. she had a prison wife at one point, but that was just to get her through each grueling hour at stillwater. the girl never saw herself being married for real. until she met you.
✧.* she first began calling you her wife playfully. vi is a sucker for pet names, isn’t she?
✧.* “i’m home! how’s my wife doing? i didn’t keep ya waiting long, did i?”
✧.* but the more she called you her wife, and the more positive your reactions to the nickname became, it dawned on her that she actually could see herself marrying you. that option had just never clicked in her mind.
✧.* the two of you never properly talked about marriage per se, but it was silently agreed that it was a possibility.
✧.* however, it still caught you completely off guard when vi proposed to you.
✧.* it was in the middle of a field, which already struck you as odd. vi wasn’t one to go exploring in nature typically, but she said she wanted to see the stars with you, so you didn’t ask any questions.
✧.* you’re side-by-side with vi on a shared blanket, while your girlfriend uses her finger to point out each constellation. she’s wrong about the name of the majority, but you don’t have the heart to tell her that. she’s just too cute.
✧.* however, at the end of the night, when you’re occupied with folding the blanket, you glance over your shoulder to see vi on one knee. your hand claps over your mouth and the blanket falls onto the ground.
✧.* “(y/n), i love you. you know this. i tell you every day. but we’ve been together for a while now… and i think i’m ready to take the next step. i call you my wife anyways, why not make it official?”
✧.* with tears welling in your eyes, you nod again and again. hands covering your mouth and one shakily stretching to let vi slip the ring onto your finger.
✧.* it’s a simple ring; a silver band with a rectangular alexandrite in the center. but you can tell from the shine that vi had been saving for this purchase for a while.
✧.* vi wanted to get a ring worthy of you. a ring that showcased her endless devotion to you, and damn, she did a good job hiding the ring as long as she did.
✧.* vi doesn’t waste any time when it comes to planning. she wants a small wedding, but still intimate and romantic.
✧.* almost everything is done by the two of you, with minimal help from jinx. vi does centerpieces, invitations, and the music, while you take care of the catering, flower arrangements, and guest planning.
✧.* jinx likely just makes a few light coverings to give the illusions of different colored lights during the reception.
✧.* your girlfriend fiancée wears a tailored black suit, with a maroon vest and tie. she put a lot into being able to rent it, so she wants to make sure she looks perfect for her soon-to-be wife!
✧.* the day of the ceremony finally arrives. vi is nervous, but she does her best to keep herself grounded. it isn’t until she’s stood at the altar waiting for her bride that anxiety truly sets in.
✧.* yet, all of that anxiety melts the instant she sees you walking down the aisle. your eyes light and full of adoration, only for her. the smile on your face is enough to light up the entire universe on its own.
✧.* it’s then, when she takes your hand as you step up to the altar, that she begins to feel tears pricking at her eyes.
✧.* vi has her vows memorized. she made a habit of reading them aloud every night at least twenty times, over and over again. but she still manages to stumble over her words; something you can’t help but giggle to.
✧.* “my love for you has always been clear. since the day i met you, you’ve never left my mind, or my side. i love all of your cute habits, all of the things you think i don’t notice, the sound of your voice, your smile, those eyes… i love all of you. i promise to love you now, and forever. you complete me.”
✧.* vi is fully crying by the time she finally gets to cup your cheeks and press her lips to yours, holding the kiss longer than she probably should. but she just can’t help herself. you’re her wife now.
✧.* she doesn’t get shitfaced during the reception, but your wife is definitely pretty drunk on the dance floor. busting out moves you didn’t even know she had.
✧.* she feels free to let loose now, have fun, with you by her side. dancing with her. singing along to the music without a care in the world.
mel;
✧.* with mel, marriage wasn’t really a conversation the two of you had, instead, it was a given from the beginning.
✧.* mel takes relationships very seriously and sees anything casual as a waste of her precious time. marriage is the end goal when mel gets into any relationship, so it wouldn’t be any different for you. she loves you, and you love her, the natural thing to do is to get married.
✧.* however, she is a patient woman and willing to wait for whenever you’re ready to commit to marriage. she is busy after all, she can wait as long as needed.
✧.* when you finally are at a place in your life- financially, mentally, emotionally, to be able to comfortably get married, mel wastes no time proposing to you.
✧.* you figured it would be the other way around, and actually did begin window-shopping for a general idea of what ring you’d purchase for your girlfriend.
✧.* but mel has a way of knowing things, and she tells you that she’ll buy it.
✧.* “i know you’ve been browsing around, here and there for a ring. be patient. i’ll handle that, okay?”
✧.* when mel proposes, it’s in a small, intimate space in her home. the woman goes to plenty of galas and parties as a councilwoman, but she wants this moment to be only between her and her girlfriend.
✧.* warm candlelight fills the room, the scent of peonies and baby’s breath subtle. you’re unsure of what’s going on for such decorations- was there a holiday that you forgot? your anniversary wasn’t for another few months, so surely-
✧.* a soft voice from behind you pulls you back to reality. the sight of mel, on one knee, holding open a violet velvet box.
✧.* “my dearest. i know i tell you regularly, and i know you’re aware, but i love you. i love you more than life itself, and i want nothing more than to make the next commitment to you. i need to marry you, (y/n).”
✧.* and god, the ring itself. the stone is practically a boulder. it’s a gold band with a cluster of diamonds framing one big diamond in the middle. yes, mel is the most wealthy woman in piltover, but she’s truly outdone herself.
✧.* you’re in tears, mumbling out choked ‘yes’s as your now-fiancée beams. she takes extra care, gently slipping the ring onto your finger. letting you know just how beautiful it looks on you.
✧.* as much as mel would love to be thoroughly involved in planning the wedding, duty calls. so you have creative liberty- she trusts you. she also does hire a professional wedding planner to get most of the difficult work done. the last thing mel would want is you worrying your pretty head before marrying her.
✧.* a grand hall, with gold interior, fountains, high ceilings and glass chandeliers was selected for your wedding. a place which many former high-ranking members of piltover’s society have been married in years prior.
✧.* as for a dress, mel chooses a grand, white gown. silk with lace trimmings, and a cathedral-length veil. she doesn’t mind what you wear, the only thing that matters to her is your comfort.
✧.* naturally, the majority of piltover is invited to the wedding. it’s not every day that the most high-ranking woman in your city gets married.
✧.* the day of the wedding comes. mel is an expert when it comes to keeping herself calm on the outside; stoic and poised. but internally, she’s a mess.
✧.* mel medarda, getting married? it’s always been something she’s wanted, but now that it’s happening, it’s hitting her what she’s about to do. yet, that makes it so much more exciting.
✧.* her worry is more about what how she’ll be perceived by the public, and presenting a much more vulnerable side of herself.
✧.* when mel walks down the aisle, bouquet in hand, orchestra plucking strings, she’s taking deep breaths to ground herself. this is really happening.
✧.* she sees you walk toward the altar, and she immediately has to close her eyes. only for a second. you look absolutely divine- it’s overwhelming. so many emotions: love, adoration, gratitude, all swirling in mel’s chest.
✧.* mel has her vows memorized. she’s always had a good memory, but she can’t stop her voice from cracking and breaking every few words. the moment is just all-consuming.
✧.* “my love for you is eternal. it always has been, and it always will be. to be stood before all of piltover, making this promise to you is an opportunity i am honored to have. i promise to fiercely love you for as long as you will allow me to, and as long as you will love me. (y/n). my love, my light, and now my wife.”
✧.* she has to wipe away a few stray tears from her face afterward, but she giggles and tightly embraces you. just before brushing your lips with hers, a moment she wishes she could stay in forever.
✧.* the reception is refined and calm. although others may be getting a bit tipsy, mel would much rather slow-dance with you on the floor. stand beside the cake, champagne in hand, just admiring you for all that you are. she swears you’ve never looked more beautiful.
sevika;
✧.* sevika has never given marriage a second thought. for other girls? sure, but never her. she had a job to do, a city to protect, and that was her priority.
✧.* until you in passing mentioned being old and married in jest. that statement hit sevika like a bag of bricks.
✧.* trying to lay her head down to rest, your voice plays on a loop in sevika’s head. being old and married. married. married to each other.
✧.* she simply can’t shake the thought. again, she had never given marriage a second thought, but sevika could truly see herself marrying you. that was how loyal and devoted she was to you, how much she loved you.
✧.* sevika doesn’t mention it, though. that’s the kind of woman she is, isn’t it? moving in silence, but with intention nonetheless.
✧.* however, one day, sevika slips out of your shared home to take care of ‘business.’
✧.* “be back soon, love. i won’t be long. -sevika”, reads a note left on your dresser.
✧.* where sevika is actually going is to a metal smith in zaun, a humble craftsman in a shared space with various other artists. she wants your ring to be perfectly you, and she wants your ring to be one that nobody else possesses. so custom-made is the only option.
✧.* a thick silver band with an amethyst in the center, and engravings on the inside. it takes about two weeks to finish, with sevika checking in about twice every week in the wee hours of the morning. this is one of the most important projects she’s ever overseen.
✧.* once she finally gets it, sevika will not let go of the ring box. a heavy maple wood box housing the most important possession she has, soon to be yours.
✧.* of course, sevika fiddling with her left pocket doesn’t go unnoticed by you. but she brushes it off, tells you that she wasn’t sure if she left something in there from the day before.
✧.* her proposal is spontaneous. she tries to plan it, but she simply cannot wait any longer. she takes the ring box out of her pocket, presenting it to you and slowly opening it.
✧.* “i don’t… i don’t do this stuff. i don’t know how to, i’m sorry. but i… i love you, and i can’t stop thinking about what you said before. about being old and married. i want that, with you.”
✧.* it’s so rare that sevika is completely unguarded, even in private. she’s a soft lover, but you can tell that right now, all of her walls are down. poor woman, she’s even shaking.
✧.* you just grab her hand, a stray tear falling down your cheek, and whisper, “yes.”
✧.* sevika has no idea where to start when it comes to wedding planning (or event planning to begin with.) so you take on most of the responsibility for planning, occasionally enlisting help from friends.
✧.* of course, sevika is still very involved in terms of observing and helping you make decisions.
✧.* you choose a small hall, enough to hold a handful of guests. sevika doesn’t have many people to invite, granted, but there needs to be enough room for her playing mates at the casino, jinx, and your guests.
✧.* your fiancée chooses a dusty plum suit, tailored to her body and the smallest golden hoops in her ears. (you didn’t even know she had her ears pierced until the day of the wedding.)
✧.* the day comes, and sevika sees you walking down the aisle. she stares at you in nothing short of awe, pure joy. her mouth hangs open.
✧.* when you finally step up to meet her at the altar, it takes everything in the woman to not simply whisk you away then and there. patience, sevika, she tells herself.
✧.* she has her vows written down, despite trying to memorize them. she’s just filled with too many emotions. nerves, mostly.
✧.* “standing here now, i realize more than ever how much i love you. you’ve brought something to my life i never thought i’d feel: unconditional, unwavering love. i don’t know how you do it, but you make every day better than the last. you’ve gotten through to my heart. i swear to love you, to be loyal to you, and to protect you.”
✧.* she doesn’t even wait for the officiant to say that you may kiss, she’s immediately closing the distance between you as soon as you finish exchanging vows, kissing her wife again, and again, and again.
✧.* sevika doesn’t do much during the reception, mostly drinking little sips of whine and gazing at you with that longing expression you’ve come to know. if you try to drag her out onto the floor to dance with you, she’ll playfully groan and roll her eyes. but you know she loves it. she loves you.
✧.* “come on, sev, dance with me!”
✧.* “i don’t dance.”
✧.* “well, you do now!”
caitlyn;
✧.* the topic of marriage is a difficult one for caitlyn. as a member of one of the highest-ranking houses in piltover, it’s an expectation that she will one day marry. not necessarily from her parents, but from piltover and tradition.
✧.* honestly, she was indifferent. if she found someone she’d like to marry, great. but if not, she wasn’t going to hold her breath or beat herself up over it.
✧.* when you came into her life, caitlyn could feel her perception of marriage slowly changing. it was still indifferent at best, but she now understood why marriage was so common. why it was a thing, even. her love for you grew stronger by the day, and she wouldn’t be opposed to marriage- if it was you.
✧.* not married because she has to be, but because she wants to be.
✧.* caitlyn is transparent about all of this with you, telling you that while she’s okay with the idea of marriage, she doesn’t expect it. it’s the least she can do: be honest.
✧.* ultimately, the decision is in your hands, and you decide that you undoubtedly want caitlyn to be your wife.
✧.* so you browse every single jeweler in both piltover and the undercity. looking for any hidden gems amongst them. independent jewelers, chains, even heirlooms from your family. but in your search, you find a sole jewelry dealer in the undercity. selling a silver engagement ring with sapphire clusters that perfectly match caitlyn’s eyes.
✧.* you’re in the family’s garden, cait looking off into the distance. observing… the leaves, the flowers, the way the light hits them? you’re unsure, but you decide now is your opportunity.
✧.* “caitlyn.”
✧.* caitlyn quickly turns her head to you, looking the slightest bit concerned. “hm?”
✧.* that’s when you drop to one knee and take out a ring box. caitlyn’s eyes blow wide, both hands clapping over her mouth. she can’t believe the scene that’s playing out in front of her.
✧.* “i can’t contain myself anymore. caitlyn, the time i’ve had with you has been wonderful. the most amazing time of my life. you are the epitome of grace and diligence, consistently leading. you bring out the best in me day after day, and my life feels complete with you in it. caitlyn kiramman, will you marry me?”
✧.* bless caitlyn, she’s trying so hard to keep the tears threatening to spill at bay. she only nods, once, then twice, then over and over before bringing you into a deep kiss.
✧.* when you slip the ring onto her finger, you wish you could freeze time and frame this particular moment. the adoration in the woman’s eyes is one you can’t describe.
✧.* when it comes to wedding planning, cait wants to be as involved as possible. of course, she has a job to do, so that does prolong the planning. but patience is a virtue she learned early, so she doesn’t mind.
✧.* “what’s another few months? we have all the time in the world, dear.”
✧.* the two of you choose to have a small and intimate wedding, inviting her father, a few council members, and anyone you’d like to invite.
✧.* caitlyn chooses a sleek v-neck black dress, fitted to her form with a long train. she opts to wear a small tiara instead of a veil.
✧.* upon further examination, you notice that it’s the very tiara cassandra wore on her wedding day. silver, with small rubies delicately placed. caitlyn honoring her mother in this way brought a whirlwind of emotions to you, but you knew she would be happy for her daughter.
✧.* and for that very reason, among many others, caitlyn’s wedding day is an emotional one for her. she’s elated to be finally marrying the woman she loves, but she wishes more than anything that her mother could be there to see it.
✧.* seeing cait walk down the aisle does wonders to you. waiting at the altar for her was excruciating as is, but you almost have to pick your jaw up off the floor as your fiancée makes her way closer and closer to you. she looks otherworldly.
✧.* she chuckles and beams at you once she steps up to the altar. taking a moment to just admire you. she reaches a slim hand out to gently tuck a lock of hair behind your ear, cupping your cheek in her hand for only a moment. her sapphire eyes full of adoration.
✧.* caitlyn has her vows written down, in that annoyingly perfect penmanship of hers. she reads from the paper, glancing up at you constantly while having to wipe her eyes.
✧.* “(y/n), i didn’t know if this day would ever come. but i’m so glad that it has. my love for you knows no bounds, it festers and grows and builds onto itself every day. it’s exhilarating, as is every day by your side. to call myself your wife will be my greatest honor. and to welcome you into the kiramann family, an even greater honor.”
✧.* she’s fully crying by the time she finishes reading out her vows, looking up at you with the best smile that she can muster. she’s so overcome with love, she can’t help it.
✧.* the moment the officiant says you may kiss, caitlyn is placing one hand firmly on your waist and the other wraps around your lower back. holding you close and brushing her lips against yours.
✧.* cait’s reception is rather relaxed, with a selection of mostly classical and contemporary music playing quietly over speakers. however, she insists on having several slow dances with you. she’s surprisingly good, which makes you suspect she’s experienced with this.
✧.* guiding you back and forth with expertise, her head buried into the crook of your neck. holding you impossibly close to her as she hums in contentment.
#arcane x reader#jinx x reader#mel medarda x reader#vi x reader#sevika x reader#caitlyn kiramman x reader#reader insert#arcane x you#sapphic
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fresh out the slammer [guilty as sin part five] | charles leclerc social media au
pairing: charles leclerc x sainz!reader
no court cases, no ferrari PR jail... i'm sure nothing will happen, right?
MASTERLIST | SERIES MASTERLIST | TIP JAR
f1
liked by charles_leclerc, yourusername and 1,289,405 others
tagged: olliebearman, francocolapinto & pepemarti
f1: THERE IT IS!!! The 2025 grid is set with Ollie Bearman at Haas, Franco Colapinto at Williams and Pepe Marti at Sauber.
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user317: HOLY SHIT
user318: i hate to celebrate someone losing their job in this economy but FUCK THAT MAN WOO HOO WELCOME TO UNEMPLOYMENT CARLOS SAINZ
olliebearman: can't wait to get started (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)
user319: when are you going to recruit pepe and kimi to the leclerc family agenda
pepemarti: y/n has been my celeb crush since i was like 13 (sorry charles) so trust me idc about the spanish guy
olliebearman: he fully doesn't play about y/n, he even tries to read poetry (key word being tries)
pepemarti: you can shame me all you like but i think y/n would appreciate the effort
yourusername: you would be correct !
pepemarti: OMG ٩(^ᗜ^ )و ´-
charles_leclerc: i'll take you in if you promise you're over your crush on y/n, it would be very inappropriate
pepemarti: I AM I SWEAR
user320: i know carlos gotta be sick seeing the spanish youngster freak out more about his sister
yourusername: i fear he has bigger fish to fry right now
user321: @carlossainz55 BOO! did i scare you? i'm a job application
user322: being on the internet as a sainz fan gotta be torture at this point
user323: former delusional carlando fan here! he brought this upon himself lol
maxverstappen1: evil may be conquered but these three and kimi look like prime candidates to join the united front of hating
yourusername: we gotta get them started while they're young
charles_leclerc: i fear we don't have enough room in the house for all these kids
francocolapinto: do we really need the aussie?
oscarpiastri: i was here before you ???
yourusername: we can get bunkbeds?
olliebearman: does leo really need him own room
charles_leclerc: WATCH THAT TONE
kimiantonelli: i'm quite small if that helps
yourusername: looks like we have a new favourite
pepemarti: ????????
user324: see? carlos loses his job and suddenly all is good in f1 again... coincidence? i think not.
yourusername
liked by maxverstappen1, alexalbon and 1,945,209 others
tagged: charles_leclerc, olliebearman & kimiantonelli
yourusername: and the pieces all fall into place ...
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user326: this is a level of motherism we have yet to see in f1
user327: and mother in a literal sense these ones take her up to like five grid kids and one dog
maxverstappen1: don't erase her cat godson and goddaughter
yourusername: leo is almost fully cat trained ( ≧ᗜ≦)
albonpets: do not even think of coming for our brand
yourusername: which one am i talking to?
albonpets: HORSEY
yourusername: ... okay then
charles_leclerc: seriously?
yourusername: i'm not going to fight a (my favourite) albon cat charles, i may have the sainz last name but i'm NOT carlos
charles_leclerc: it'll be leclerc before you know it
yourusername: (˶ ˘ ³˘)ˆᵕ ˆ˶)
user328: no because at this point i can fully picture carlos having an argument with a cat
albonpets: we're down to tussle for y/n
user329: i'm dying, carlos lost so bad ALBON PETS ARE SHADING HIM
user330: guys are we ready for monza tho? y/n and charles fully back, the united front of hating back, italy don't play about charles... carlos girl i'd sit this one out it doesn't even matter that you're driving the red car
maxverstappen1: at least it won't be me being booed for once
carlossainz55: i'm not a bitch. if people want to boo me they'll only expose themselves as sheep
oscarpiastri: BAAAA
olliebearman: BAAAA
francocolapinto: BAAAA
kimiantonelli: BAAAA
pepemarti: BAAAA
charles_leclerc: parenthood is so precious
carlossainz55: you think i care that these little runts like you guys? they'll be out the sport faster than your other little pet american
logansargeant: at least i'm pretty
francocolapinto: sorry i can't hear you over my williams seat - you really thought that was gonna be yours huh 🤔
user331: obsessed with how carlos has just resorted to name calling because his only 'ammunition' against y/n is that she always wanted to marry charles and didn't want to work
user332: if that's illegal LOCK ME UP BABY
yourusername: they nearly did 😭
user332: oh yeah my bad g
charles_leclerc
liked by maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri and 4,398,400 others
tagged: yourusername
charles_leclerc: fresh out the slammer
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user333: LET'S FUCKING GOOOOOOOOOO
francocolapinto: VAMOSSSSSS
user334: this was actually insanely poetic, ferrari i'm still angry at you but thank you for this genius strategy
user335: today you are excused, tomorrow we go back to hating
user336: the north remembers
yourusername: never in doubt starboy - i love you, you deserve this so much
charles_leclerc: i love you more, this win is for you after everything we've been through
yourusername: you're too sweet - it's all you baby and the win is all yours, my prize is being. yours
charles_leclerc: so glad we could have all of our REAL family around us today
yourusername: i love you all ⸜(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡
oscarpiastri: i guess if there's anyone to lose to here, it would be my grid dad
francocolapinto: if you don't want the P2 i'll gladly take it off of your hands
yourusername: okay babies let's calm down and celebrate that we ALL scored points today
olliebearman: thanks mum and dad
pepemarti: did you guys see my F2 podium (๑>◡<๑)?
charles_leclerc: we did!
yourusername: well done pepe :3
pepemarti: hehehehehehheheheheehehehe
maxverstappen1: oh boy got out of ferrari jail and now we're ALL being subjected to the conjugal visits
charles_leclerc: stay outta my business
maxverstappen1: BROTHER 4 MILLION PEOPLE IN YOUR BUSINESS
yourusername: and four million people know my man is off limits
yourusername: @carlossainz55 stop paying instagram models to flirt with my man
charles_leclerc: @carlossainz55 what money are you using for this i had to close my DMs
user337: HE'S PAYING INSTAGRAM MODELS TO TRY AND FLIRT WITH CHARLES THE VERY GUY WHO HAD HIS CHILDHOOD RIVAL DELIVER LOVE LETTERS WHEN HIS PHONE WAS TAKEN ???
oscarpiastri: we never said carlos was smart
f1tea
liked by user339, user340 and 11,943 others
f1tea: the ramifications of the sainz civil war may be a lot worse than previously feared. carlos sainz does not have a seat for the 2025 f1 season and doesn't look like he'll be chosen for a reserve role either with bridges with red bull firmly burnt. however, one of the biggest effects of this 'war' has been on those who still choose to associate with carlos. it's been reported that mclaren have had to turn down a number of sponsors after they asked that it is only run on oscar's car and that lando norris is not seen with the brand. do you think we'll see lando jump ship from carlos or will mclaren become a safehaven for sainz?
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user341: mclaren? a safe haven for carlos sainz? the same mclaren that houses the first child of y/n and charles? i'd like to see them try
user342: finally the carlando PR spin is dead
user343: they way they both thought that was their ultimate get out of jail free card and now it's like incriminating
user344: isn't this all getting a little petty now? like y/n and charles are together and carlos doesn't have a seat? what's the point of keeping all of this drama going?
user345: tbf this 'drama' was never going away the moment they exposed themselves for trying to use their daughter/sister as bait to further carlos' career
user346: if that wasn't downright criminal then unlawfully suing your daughter/sister for everything she rightfully earnt WAS
user347: yeah just because 55 fans and the sainzs themselves want to bury that loss doesn't mean it's not like one of the first things that come up when. you google carlos - of course sponsors are not gonna want ANYTHING to do with that
user348: poor lando getting caught in the petty crossfire
user349: i mean he was shit slinging at y/n after austria and that girl has levels of voodoo only taylor swift can better
user350: he's also a grown man who has seen this all go down behind the scenes so he's made his bed and has to lie in it
user351: the way the sponsors are just piling up for charles as well karma really is doing a number right now
user352: his charm is so universal that oscar is becoming one of the most marketable drivers as well
user353: no but as someone who was on the ground at monza, it's BAD like people were wearing their sainz merch with the 55 or spanish flag covered up
user354: oh he got them acting like middle aged football fans it's BAD
user355: at least they haven't started burning stuff yet
user356: if he takes out charles i fear it won't take long
yourusername
liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1 and 1,452,097 others
yourusername: my new poetry and letter collection, the alchemy, is out today and you guys already made it a new york times bestseller. my heart is so full! the last couple months made me feel like i would never get to love so thank you for showing me that everything is possible x
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user357: ma'am i am in love with you
user358: get in line buddy
charles_leclerc: i will run all of you over
maxverstappen1: thank you for the dedication, it was a traumatic time for us all
yourusername: you simply could've not read my private letters to my lover?
maxverstappen1: and where's the fun in that?
yourusername: a pigeon wouldn't have done this to me...
maxverstappen1: yeah well a pigeon also hasn't been your best friend for years and doesn't have a couch and cats to comfort you
yourusername: you make a good point
user359: she's really out here making me believe in love
charles_leclerc: the most talented woman in the world, i'm blessed to be on the receiving end of such words
yourusername: writing is so much easier with a muse like you
charles_leclerc: you're making me blush
user360: sure if my boyfriend was a greek god i'd also write good poetry
charles_leclerc: no you couldn't, not like her
yourusername: (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)
lewishamilton: congratulations y/n, what an achievement! however, i do think the real achievement here is getting this grid to read a book
georgerussell63: excuse me?
alexalbon: ... you got me but i wanted the tea ☕️
charles_leclerc: APPRECIATE THE POETRY PEOPLE
alexalbon: funny how the letters were back and forth... but none of yours made it to the book
yourusername: ALEX :(
charles_leclerc: i didn't want my sad ramblings to drag down her shine - i thought you would get that seeing how bad you are at golf compared to lily
lilymunhe: oop.
user361: where are the children
yourusername: eating my cake :(
maxverstappen1: they're actually being really cute and are all sat in a circle reading it (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧
charles_leclerc: gotta make sure they can read none of us finished school
f1
liked by landonorris, carlossainz55 and 2,309,450 others
tagged: maxverstappen1 & carlossainz55
f1: LAST LAP SHUNT! Carlos Sainz takes Max Verstappen out in baku and the two did not mince their words on the radio
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user363: not to be dramatic but that's lowkey attempted murder
user364: at this point carlos is trying to ACTUALLY recreate that list of crimes meme
user365: let's get his ass in JAIL then
oscarpiastri: if i speak i'm in big trouble
carlossainz55: speak it big man - if you wanna act like a big guy back it up
oscarpiastri: okay you are a narcissistic misogynist who can't bear being told no. you are a talented man but without your name you would be nowhere but you lack the selfawareness to be grateful for where you are which is why you don't have a job. you are reckless and dangerous and the very few friends you have will drop you when you no longer serve a purpose in f1
user366: oh shit babe came out swinging
oscarpiastri: i'm hearing a lot of CRICKETS?
oscarpiastri: exactly - pussy.
user367: thank you franco colapinto for bringing back drivers with zero media training
user368: once again i am asking for proximity chat in f1
user369: the sweet souls on twitter would NOT be able to handle it
yourusername: bro tried to assassinate my best friend but i'm the problem
carlossainz55: stop being so dramatic, if anyone was to purposely hurt someone it would be max - look where he came from
yourusername: first of all FUCK YOU
yourusername: second of all, max is stronger than you ever will be, how dare you try and use his childhood against him when you know he's nothing but a gentle soul
yourusername: thirdly, by this logic the reason i'm such a 'gold-digging back-stabbing whore' is because of YOU GUYS
user370: i am absolutely losing it at the fact that carlos is furiously typing these at the fia HQ
user371: i know his PR officer is TIRED
francocolapinto: sorry our uncle got sniped but we did also get points @olliebearman
olliebearman: JUST TO SAY WE WENT TO SEE MAX AND HE IS OKAY BUT YES THANK YOU FOR THE POINTS
yourusername: guys lets keep the inside thoughts inside
francocolapinto: so you're not proud of us (╹ -╹)?
yourusername: I AM, I AM, WE ARE (charles is on the podium he'll tell you later)
francocolapinto: ( ˶ˆ꒳ˆ˵ )
olliebearman: ( ˶ˆ꒳ˆ˵ )
maxverstappen1
liked by charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri and 1,387,300 others
tagged: yourusername
maxverstappen1: i lived bitch
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user372: they're gonna have to do a little more than that to take down the united front of hating
user373: 50g can't stop the grind for these dudes
maxverstappen1: i would call that man a bitch with my last breath
user374: them celebrating the end of carlos' career by doing a mukbang is killing me
user375: when the funeral food be good as fuck you be forgetting who died
carlossainz55: you guys really are so pathetic
maxverstappen1: i didn't try to pimp out my sister, make her homeless then sue her but that might just me be
maxverstappen1: also the data will prove what we all know btw
carlossainz55: that you're reckless just like your daddy?
maxverstappen1: at least i can admit my dad is an asshole and i distanced myself, your dad is just as much a bitch but you gotta parade him around because no one else can bear being around you
carlossainz55: the only bad thing my dad ever did in his life is help bring the spawn of satan into the world
maxverstappen1: whatever, enjoy your race ban bozo
user376: is max suggesting ... it was on purpose
user377: if it was carlos might just be as dumb as they all say because fool was about to get a podium
yourusername: THEY CAN'T GET RID OF US BITCH
maxverstappen1: you're a sick motherfucker if you're enjoying this sainz disasterclass well i only just got out of the medical centre 🤧🤧🤧
charles_leclerc: no but deadass we're sorry you got taken out
maxverstappen1: someone had to be the mercutio to you people's romeo and juliet
maxverstappen1: PLEASE DO NOT KILL YOURSELVES AFTER I'VE GONE THROUGH ALL THIS SHIT FOR YOU
yourusername: we can't leave you with all these kids
charles_leclerc: yeah that's a lot of kids to inherit
user378: christian horner i hate you but you gotta get on your zoom
oscarpiastri: where's my congratulations 🤨
maxverstappen1: @yourusername @charles_leclerc yeah you can keep your kids
charles_leclerc: we're proud of you oscar (don't beat me again)
yourusername: well done oscar (your verbal takedown was particularly impressive as well)
oscarpiastri: 🤭🤭🤭
fin
note: lol i'm back. i was busy with work and then in hospital. but we all love guilty as sin? will get to tagging soon one sec
#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1 instagram au#f1 x you#f1 social media au#f1#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc#charles leclerc x female reader#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc smau#charles leclerc social media au
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on top of the world
max verstappen
tags: smut/pwp, post-las vegas gp (2024), pregnancy/pregnant!reader, tender & gentle sex, established relationship,
a/n: congrats max for another wdc!
max wrapped you up in his arms and held you tightly. he kissed you on the side of the face with such love. such affection, there was a fire to his kiss, the after burn of a heated race. he came in fifth this weekend, but he was just that good that he managed to get enough points to secure his fourth world champion!
and when max pulled away with misty eyes. the thrill of the wdc never damped. he smiled brightly at you and said, "i won the wdc."
you swallowed and in the heat of the moment replied, "and i'm pregnant." you wished you could've taken the words back, but instead max just kissed you once more. your legs felt like jelly as you clung to him. wrapped up in one another, but max's grip loosened on you. after all, you were pregnant.
"you're pregnant." he said as his hands trailed up your sides once you were in the privacy of the hotel room. during every interview with what felt like every news network in the world. not only did he want to talk about his win, but the growth of your family.
you traced your hands down the front of his red bull branded t-shirt, "remember why we were so curious why jimmy, sassy and donatello were always hanging around me?"
he nodded as he undid the buttons of your blouse.
"the entire weekend i felt sick in brazil and we chalked it up to something not agreeing with me." there was another nod from your boyfriend, "and then when you put your face between my breasts and i always yelled because they were so tender? yeah... i'm pregnant."
he looked at your face and then your middle. he patted a hand across the soft flesh and licked his lips, "you're serious, right? no joke?"
you held his face in your hands and looked into his blue eyes, "max... maxie... my love. i took five of them. i'm pretty sure it's impossible for all five to be false positives... when i head back home i will get the blood work done."
he beamed at you and pulled you in for another heated kiss. soon you were pulling at the shoulders of his t-shirt. his hat was flicked off onto the floor and with a bit of help you were both soon completely nude on the bed.
he looked amazing, even post-race. he was well showered and out of his driving clothes. but, he still looked flustered from the heat of the race, and even though it was so late into the evening. you both couldn't sleep, not while your brains were running a mile a minute. he admired you, loved you as his hands spread across your form.
"you and i made a baby, huh?" he said as leaned down and kissed your stomach, how much it would change while you carried his child. his kisses continued to trail across your body and you felt a shiver of euphoria through your system as he got between your legs. his cock stood at full attention and he wanted to map out every inch of you skin. as much as possible. he wanted to feel the love of his life as much as he could, to worship your body.
"yes, that's what happened." you giggled as your combed your fingers through his dirty blond hair, "that's usually what happens when you have unprotected sex." you smiled then kissed him when he rose his head.
"i hope you know, i'm here for you and our baby, okay? i'm not walking out, no, never." he nodded earnestly, even though there was no doubt in your bed. it was sweet for him to confirm it for you. you pulled him into a searing kiss and got him onto his back with you on top of him. you spread your hands across his broad chest, you could feel his racing heartbeat.
you rubbed your hands up and down his chest as you pulled away. you looked down at him before you slowly sank on his cock. before he could say anything you replied, "we'll go soft. no need to get too worried there, mister verstappen." you moved your hips slowly against him and he tensed up for a moment at the feeling.
max knew you were going to be his wife, he was certain anyone at the team could see that. the way max held you and kissed you. the infamous maxplaining about you and your own accomplishments. while you weren't a superstar driver, he wanted everyone to know that you got your master's degree. he simply hadn't popped the question so your last name could on every degree you earn. but that might have to change a little prematurely with the news that you two were expecting a child. he groaned a little as he felt the circulation of pleasure through his body. the rise and fall of your hips as you made love to him.
both of you still running off the high of the race and of the victorious news. you moved a little faster, but he slowed you down. he panted, "i want to feel you, all of you." he swallowed back a heavy moan as he moved against you. he admired every curve of your body. you were his, all his. the two of you were going start a family. be a family. one thought crossed his mind, he'd need to go ring shopping.
"i love you."
"i love you too."
you continued to work his body slowly, feeling every each of one another. max's hands tickled you a little and your giggles made his pulse leap. you could feel the circulation of pleasure in your brain as you moved against him with such affection and love. you loved max, you loved him more than you could put into words. there were no words in any language that could describe your affection towards the man. your man.
your bodies moved together. but it wasn't fucking, it was making love. you were enjoying each other's bodies with heated want while you moved against him lovingly. you moaned a little louder when the pleasure started to creep up through your body. you leaned in to kiss him once more as you moved your hips. you braced yourself on his toned chest and moaned deep into the kiss. that seemed to excite max as he held onto you a bit tighter. not tight enough to bruise. but, enough to be protective over you. over his beloved woman.
when you pulled away, you pressed your forehead against his and giggled, "soon we're going to have to find new ways to do this." then kissed him on the face.
"i'll take you anyway i can, my love. anyway you'll let me have you." he shuddered at the feeling of you. the two of you moved against one another during heated kisses and you could feel the pleasure spike in your body. when you broke the kiss, he said, "i won this all for you. but i think you upstaged me." he chuckled lightly, his cheeks dusted with pink, "i was going to come home with the world championship, but you were to come home with our child." he kissed you again, "i guess i'd rather be beaten by my wife than anyone else."
you felt a rise in you from his words, only to spur you on with slow but steadier movements. you raked your nails dwon his pale chest and whispered praise towards him. it wasn't erotic so much as intimate. how much you loved him, how much he meant to you. "when i see your eyes, i feel the future, max. and not just trophies and fast cars. i see a home, a life, a family." and he shuddered at your words. you knew how to make him feel so comfortable, safe and sound.
you marginally picked up speed and knew you weren't going to last much longer. you kissed him deeply as you rode him perfectly. your pussy fit perfectly, and he loved the feeling of you around him. cunt around his cock, hands on his chest,t he weight of you on his hips as you moved against him. everything oozed with perfection and made his heart stammer.
the two of you continued, the kisses only furthered. you held onto him tightly and with a few more movements of your hips. you clamped down around him and came. you moaned deeply into the kiss and let the pleasure wash over you.
max felt a similar feeling and while you rose through your orgasm. he finished inside of you as well. mindful not to be too rough with you. you two kissed more as you felt up his chest and he felt up your hips. you stayed seated on his cock for a few moments while you enjoyed the feeling of his lips on you.
but a night of euphoric highs led to emotional crashes that left you sleepy. soon you got yourself off of him and laid next to him on the king sized bed. you were panting heavily. max was playing with your left hand, especially your ring finger.
you smacked him on the chest with that hand while you laid out on the bed, "and no, max. we're not getting married in vegas." then looked at him, "we'll do it right... plus i'm certain your sister and my sister would kill you."
max just beamed and pulled you into a tight cuddle, "fair, fair, mrs. verstappen."
-
you told very few people about the pregnancy, especially not the press. people did notice the slow down of photos of you on max's social medias as you got further along.
one fan wrote online, "maybe they broke up?"
another said, "he better not embarrassed with her now or something stupid like that!"
you found the comments endearing while you were in your home in monaco, the cats still gravitated towards you. with the newest of the bunch always finding their way around your swollen middle. max did take photos of you, every chance he could. but, those were for his private collection as the following season started to wind up. while you would've loved to be there, the swell in your middle was only getting more obvious.
"you better facetime me." your lover wagged his finger at you.
"not if jimmy lies on top of my phone and i lose it for an hour." you giggled before you kissed max on the mouth. it was hard to see him go, especially when any updates about your child with him were over text and calls. it was hard.
he would eventually post a photo after a mysterious absence from social media around the summer break, "going to win a fifth world champion for you the way i won the previous four for your mama." and that answered every questions fans had. the photo was max holding his son with the stupidest grin on his face.
and by the end of the 2025 season, he had secured a fifth victory. for you, for him and for the son you both loved dearly <3
#bunny writes#reader insert#formula 1#formula one imagine#formula one smut#formula one fanfiction#f1 smut#f1 x reader#max verstappen x you#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen#max verstappen smut#mv33 x reader#mv33 smut#mv33#mv1 smut#mv1 x reader#mv1#mv1 imagine#mv1 fic#mv1 x you
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Sudsy Confessions - Sebastian Sallow x Female!Reader
Summary: As the end of the school year continues to creep up on all of the seventh-year students, Sebastian has thought about what’s to come after graduation shamefully little. He’s equal parts annoyed and worried that he doesn’t know what he wants to do with his life, and he’s even more frustrated that he’s running out of time to tell you how he really feels about you. When a chance opportunity finally presents itself, Sebastian seizes the moment, even if the setting is a little… unorthodox.
Alternatively summarized as Sebastian confessing his long-harbored love for you while you’re naked in a bathtub.
Word Count: 6.8k
Warnings: 18+, aged up characters, explicit sexual content, love confessions, bathtub sex
Full fic can also be found here on Ao3 with more diverse tags :))
It was rare for Sebastian to get so bent out of shape over Quidditch. Especially since it had been an unofficial scrimmage between him and a handful of friends– which he had still won, mind— but it was the topic of discussion that had transpired after the actual event in The Three Broomsticks that had gotten him all hot and bothered, and there was no way around the truth of the matter.
Garreth had brought up graduation.
It was a topic that Sebastian had done his best to steer clear of since he had yet to formulate a plan for himself after Hogwarts. Apparently Weasley would be starting an apprenticeship with J. Pippins at his shop in Hogsmeade, which had warranted a few hesitant congratulations from the rest of his motley group. It was obvious that Leander and Imelda assumed the same thing Sebastian did; that Garreth would probably blow up the shop soon after starting.
Then there was Imelda. Headstrong, resilient, and determined to prove herself. She fully intended on trying out for the Holyhead Harpies Quidditch team after graduation and refused to believe she would do anything but succeed. There was no reason to doubt her at all– she’d always been masterful on her broom and had set new records left and right since Professor Black had reinstated Quidditch again. Sebastian only hoped that he was well out of sight in the event things didn’t go the way Imelda wanted them to.
Leander had taken a bit of a sharp turn somewhere between the start of school and the present moment and apparently wanted to apply to work at the Ministry. Specifically, he’d been talking about joining the Council of Magical Law– evidently finding the power that would come with such a position all too appealing. Sebastian couldn’t help but think it was rather on brand for the Gryffindor to think as much, but his encouragement had been lukewarm all the same.
Though he hadn’t joined them at The Three Broomsticks, it was already known that Ominis was also thinking about working for the Ministry, but with a different motive. He wanted to get more closely involved with the Muggle Liaison Office for reasons that continued to escape Sebastian. Whether it was to learn more about their differences to wizard-kind or to spite his family further, Sebastian didn’t know, but he was frankly inclined to believe the latter.
Then there was you. The enigma, the mystery– the great unknown that had turned his entire world upside down from the moment you’d walked through the Great Hall doors two years ago. He had no clue what your plans were after graduation, and not knowing was slowly eating him alive. It had less to do with being kept out of the loop and more to do with his unspoken feelings for you– feelings that he had been keeping to himself for years now in a bid to keep his friendship with you unmarred. After your tumultuous fifth-year, it had understandably taken some time for the two of you to get back to any semblance of normalcy, and now that graduation was approaching, he couldn’t help but feel like time was slipping through his fingers.
Sebastian’s previously upbeat demeanor had darkened considerably after that conversation, leading him to bail entirely on drinks at the pub in favor of returning to Hogwarts to wallow in self-pity.
He’d moved in absolute silence following his return, a metaphorical rain cloud looming over his head as he’d gone to his dorm to grab his toiletries and a change of clothes before setting off for the Prefect’s bathroom. Friday nights were notoriously quiet now that everyone’s N.E.W.T’s had been completed, and Sebastian relished in the solitude that he always found in the spacious washroom. Sneaking in and using it was well worth the risk if it spared him from more idle conversations with his fellow classmates.
It wasn’t unusual for the door to be locked– due in large part to the fact that it always was– so he undid the latch with his wand and shouldered the door open, barreling into the humid space with the grace of a hurricane. He tossed his items down on the countertop beside the sink and ripped his toothbrush out of his bag, shoving it in-between his lips as he turned the faucet on and rifled around for his bath soaps. Disappointment clouded his mind as his thoughts wandered back to you and the unknown future. It wouldn’t take much more than courage and a slim chance for Sebastian to get his feelings for you off his chest, but his fear of rejection kept him rooted in place. He was certain that at this point, it always would.
“Keep running the water like that and you’ll drain the entire lake,” a familiar voice said from somewhere behind him. Sebastian damn near choked himself with his toothbrush as he whirled around to face the culprit, and then he found himself on the verge of fainting when he realized it was you.
You were lounging in the massive tub with a smile on your face, not at all bothered by Sebastian’s sudden intrusion. Your hair was pinned up off of your bare shoulders in a messy heap, and the brunet stood no chance at concealing his blatant double take when he caught sight of your wet skin. The bulk of your naked body was covered by the scant spread of bubbles, but the tantalizing view of your collarbones had a flush rapidly spreading across his cheeks.
���I– shit– I’m so sorry, I didn’t think anyone was in here,” Sebastian frantically mumbled around his mouthful of toothbrush. Dammit, he sounded like a fool. He ripped the thin stick from his mouth and spun back around to shut off the faucet and hastily gather his belongings from the counter.
“You didn’t really knock to find out, but it’s fine. Don’t rush off on my account.”
Your nonchalant tone made him pause, and he hesitantly lifted his head to stare at your reflection in the mirror. True to your words, you seemed wholly unbothered by his presence, simply continuing to bask in the warmth of the water as the steam wafted up into your face.
There wasn’t a chance in hell he could have anticipated something like this happening.
Almost reluctantly, Sebastian dropped his towel back onto the countertop, instead picking up the paste for his toothbrush before setting to work brushing his teeth. He watched through the mirror as you raked your wet fingers through the free strands of hair that had fallen in front of your face, and the sound of the disturbed water dripping down your arms echoed through the space. “Did you win your scrimmage?” Your eyes never wavered from his in the reflection, and he nodded. “Go out for drinks afterwards?” Another nod, switching to brush the other side of his mouth. “Ominis and Garreth?” Sebastian shook his head. “What, Garreth and Leander?”
He mumbled around a mouthful of foam, “An’ Imelda.”
Your expression pinched into one of confusion as you mused, “I thought you didn’t like drinking with Leander.” Sebastian only shrugged in vague response before bending forward to spit and rinse, trying incredibly hard to not think about how very naked and wet you were presently. He was unsuccessful.
For a brief moment, Sebastian debated on changing into his pajamas and leaving despite having come to bathe, but something possessed him to turn around and contemplate you after he turned off the faucet. The easy smile on your face and your half hooded eyes almost knocked him out, and he swallowed thickly.
What was it he had thought to himself just moments earlier? Courage and a slim chance? Was this not exactly that?
“Hey,” he muttered softly, his voice almost a whisper. “What are your plans after graduation?”
You tilted your head to the side in visible confusion, a strand of hair falling in front of your eyes seductively from the movement. He tried not to stare too hard. “Plans?”
“What will you do once it’s time to leave? You haven’t said anything to me about it– or Ominis,” he added quickly. “We were talking about it in Hogsmeade earlier, so I was just wondering.”
You seemed to ponder his question for a minute, your wandering hands coming to a sudden halt in the mass of bubbles. Truthfully, you hadn’t brought it up to either of the Slytherin men because you hadn’t come to a final decision yet, but it made sense that with the completion of your N.E.W.T’s, people would begin planning their post-Hogwarts lives. The thought made you equal parts sad and nervous.
“I thought about getting a job at first… to make a name for myself and save money, you know? But honestly, I think I might travel. I’ve explored virtually all of the Highlands for ancient magic sites and I think I’ve hit a dead end. I want to learn more about Isidora’s magic– the power from the Repository is still as much of an unknown now as it was two years ago. It’s just collecting dust inside of me at this point.”
Sebastian gave you a nonplussed blink and did his damndest not to sound paranoid when he responded. “Travel? Where exactly were you thinking?”
You shrugged and averted your gaze to the bubbles in front of you. Of course Sebastian would be displeased to discover that yet another person from his life would be departing it so soon. It was part of the reason you’d been keeping your intentions to yourself for so long. Nonetheless, you answered softly, “Maybe to Poland. Isidora’s notes mentioned that she originally hailed from there–”
“Poland?” Sebastian’s frantic voice cut you off, and he found his legs carrying him to the edge of the bathtub to kneel there and bore holes in the top of your head from across the water. “You would go that far to chase after a maybe? You don’t know for certain if looking out there will even bring you any new information– it sounds incredibly reckless.”
You fixed him with a hard, telling look. “That’s rich, coming from you. Who was it that refused to let up in his search for a cure for all of fifth-year?”
His brows slammed down atop his narrowed eyes, “That was different.”
“How is it any different?” You sounded exasperated, and he sighed indignantly. “You wanted answers, and you never stopped looking for them. You had nothing to go off of, much like myself presently, and you were willing to do anything if it meant saving Anne. I want to use this power for something good, Sebastian. I can’t do that if I don’t know how it works. Leaving is the only plausible outcome for me.”
“It would be that easy for you, then? To leave and disappear for who knows how long searching for who knows what? Would you have even told me if I hadn’t asked just now?”
It would be that easy for you to leave me, is what he really wasn’t saying.
You shook your head at him, completely bewildered that he was so affected by your revelation. “Eventually, yes, I would have. I don’t understand– why do you care so much? You of all people should know I would keep in touch; I’ll send owls every week, keep you updated on where I am and what happens. Going our separate ways was practically always in the cards, Sebastian.”
Some tiny, annoying part of him had always known that. Living at Hogwarts was a blissful reprieve from the real world, offering himself and other students a sanctuary from the concerns and problems of adult life. Hearing you voice your thoughts was a completely different thing, however, and Sebastian was woefully unprepared for the dawning realization that he wouldn’t be able to see you anymore.
He silently cursed himself for having taken this fucking long to accept how empty he would feel without you beside him.
“Sebastian,” you whispered from across the tub, and his eyes slid shut at the sound of your gentle voice. It hurt too much to fathom not getting to hear it again, or not being able to see you and crack stupid jokes with you in the middle of Potion’s class. He wouldn’t get to duel other students with you in Crossed Wands, or go to Hogsmeade to drink Butterbeers and stop by the lake on your walks back to skip rocks. All of it would end, and he would be alone.
Again.
“Sebastian,” you said again, and the closer proximity of your voice had him cracking his eyes open. You were directly in front of him now, evidently having left your spot on the other side of the bath to siddle directly up to the ledge in front of him. Your wide eyes gazed imploringly up at him, and your grip on the edge of the tub was white-knuckled. “Why do you care so much?”
“How could I not care?” He forced the words out while he still had the courage, seemingly gazing into the depths of your very soul as he stared down at you. His words had your eyes widening further as a flush crept up your neck onto your cheeks, and before you got the chance to say anything, Sebastian was leaning down to capture your lips in a desperate kiss.
A surprised squeak weaseled its way from your throat as he lifted his hands to cradle your head cautiously, and you weakly curled your fingers around his wrists as he dipped lower to accommodate for the awkward angle. Sebastian kissed you hungrily and passionately– in the way he had dreamed of doing for years. He licked along your lower lip and bit gently at it, pulling a gasp from your parted lips before one of your hands came to rest on his bent knee, leaving a wet handprint behind in its wake.
After a few heated moments, Sebastian broke away to look at you through his lashes, more surprised than anything to discover that your face was an open book; a mixture of shock and hesitance was etched into your features while something much hotter burned in your eyes, making his head fucking spin.
“Sebastian, I– ah…”
He let you go and sat back on his heels then, crossing his arms over his knees and resting his chin on his forearms as he peered at you nervously. There were a thousand different things Sebastian wanted to blurt out, but he settled for staying quiet as he waited for you to say something– anything.
You gaped up at him for a moment, blinking slowly as the flush across your cheeks darkened considerably. “How long?”
He shrugged timidly before he said, “Ages. Since fifth-year, if I’m being honest.”
“You didn’t… say anything?” His curly brown locs brushed across his forehead as he shook his head. “Why?”
“After everything that happened in the Catacombs, I was terrified of fucking things up again. I didn’t want to ruin our friendship– I wouldn’t have been able to handle it. So I just… kept my feelings to myself. But now you’re telling me you would leave– that it was always inevitable things would end this way– and I can’t accept that. I refuse to.”
You didn’t know what to say. Your mind was reeling from Sebastian’s revelation, and your heart was hammering away in your chest so loudly that you were certain he could hear it. Of course you felt the exact same way, but much like Sebastian you’d been worried about ruining things or complicating your already tentative relationship– especially after the events of your fifth-year. But now here he was– on his damn knees confessing to you– and your thoughts of the future vanished completely from your mind.
Biting your lip, you stared up at Sebastian for a moment with wide eyes. One of your hands rose off the edge of the tub to trail your wet fingers across his cheek, and as Sebastian’s freckled face moved away from his arm to swim clearly into view, you stood straight out of the water invitingly and let him wrap his strong arms around your bare waist. As the water beading over your skin soaked through Sebastian’s shirt, his eyes flickered between yours, searching for the hesitance he’d seen there before.
It was nowhere to be found.
When your lips met with his again, the softness had left them, and the two of you kissed one another hard and needily. Sebastian straightened and nipped at your lips, smiling against your mouth as you melted into him, and your breath caught somewhere in your throat when his tongue slipped into your open mouth to tangle with your own. Holding you tighter, Sebastian trailed his hands over your slick skin– traversing up your spine and into your unruly hair to tangle his fingers in the strands at the nape of your neck. He kissed you desperately, moaning softly into your mouth when he felt your hands sweep across his shoulders to fumble with the buttons at the front of his shirt.
You’d made it about halfway down the row of clasps before Sebastian grew impatient, freeing one of his hands to deftly undo the buttons with a practiced finesse that made your mouth water eagerly. He panted along the curve of your jaw as he undressed, biting and sucking at the skin of your throat until he was pulling away to shrug the damp material off of his shoulders. His tie was still snug around his neck, clamping the collar of his button-up in place, and he growled as he loosened the thin bit of fabric before yanking it over his head and diving back into the kiss like he’d been starved of your very essence.
Until now the bizarre angle had proved to be a non-issue– but then the pressing matter of his trousers came to light, and you felt as Sebastian blindly palmed at his belt buckle in a bid to undo it. “Need help?” Your coy offer whispered against his lips sent shivers up his spine, but he was too frantic and greedy to give you the chance to assist.
Those toned, capable arms released you so he could stand fully, his lust-dark eyes never wavering from yours as he finally succeeded in unlooping his belt from around his waist. “Just don’t move and keep watching like that– it’s helping me plenty.”
You flashed him a mocking pout but did as he asked, settling back into the water and scanning his body longingly as he stripped down to his briefs. He teasingly ran his thumbs under the waistband of his undergarments and shot you a smug look, all too pleased with the way you licked your lips when he eventually began slipping the attire down the delectable ‘V’ of his hips. The sight of Sebastian biting his lip as his cock sprung free and arched proudly against his toned stomach had you halting your movements, though, and you audibly whimpered before the brunet threw his briefs over his shoulder and descended into the soapy water with you.
In a flash he had you back within reach, his hands coming to cup your rear as he silently prompted you to jump into his arms so he could carry you through the water towards the rim of the massive tub. Your back bumped against the tiles there, and Sebastian took full advantage by pressing himself into you more firmly. The hard, stiff length of him rubbed tantalizingly against your folds, and you sighed contentedly before his mouth was on yours once more.
The two of you languidly kissed for what seemed like forever, and you were more than willing to continue for as long as Sebastian saw fit. When one of the hands he had against your rear began to slip lower into uncharted territory, you smiled against his lips and huffed out an airy laugh. “Eager, are you?”
“Shut up,” Sebastian murmured against your mouth, holding fast to your bottom harder and with greater fervor. “You have no idea how long I’ve been dreaming of this.”
You arched your hips against Sebastian’s and drew in a shaky breath at the sensation of his shaft grazing over a particularly sensitive spot. “Then show me,” you implored.
Growling again, Sebastian wrangled you around until you were kneeling on the ledge with your back to him and your hands braced on the rim of the bathtub. His hands were seemingly everywhere; sliding down your shoulder blades, scratching at the curve of your waist, then ghosting down the backs of your thighs as he nudged your legs apart further. You felt as he leaned forward to press a chaste kiss against the outline of your spine, and there wasn’t a chance in hell you could smother the shudder of delight that coursed through you. Sebastian moved on swiftly, though, and began pressing messy, open-mouthed kisses against your lower back, curling his hands around your hips before you felt him descend closer to your nether region. In your current position, it was just barely peeking above the thin layer of bubbles within the tub, and you heard the water slosh around Sebastian as he dropped to his knees and came face to face with your most intimate parts.
The broad slick of Sebastian’s tongue sliding through your folds pulled a startled gasp from your lips, and your forehead fell against the tile with a soft, stuttered moan. The feeling of him tasting you– achingly and deliberately slow– had you shaking in earnest as you bit your knuckle for a semblance of control. You were struggling against the urge to rock back into his ministrations, eventually settling for reaching between your spread legs with your free hand to rub at your clit for some added reprieve, but then Sebastian slid his palms from your hips to your inner thighs to nudge your hand away.
“Let me take care of you,” he whispered to you, and you mewled softly before tucking your hand against your chest and nodding. “Don’t hold back, either. I want to hear you.”
You were on the verge of responding, but the way Sebastian slid his tongue over you again drove whatever words you’d formulated straight out of your head. His hands ghosted along your skin as he lowered himself further, the tops of his shoulders completely submerging beneath the soapy water, and he took care to trail his fingers slowly down the sensitive skin of your inner thighs as he made himself comfortable behind you.
Sebastian laved his tongue over you gently and encouragingly, then experimentally stiffened the muscle before poking it inside of you, leaving you whining and gasping his name. The brunet pushed his tongue in deeper then, moaning in response to the hitch in your voice as he pressed his lips against your folds and fucked the muscle into you slowly.
“Gods, S-Sebastian–”
The man in question sighed and picked up his pace, flicking his tongue into you and dropping messy kisses against you. One of his hands slid up to your clit, brushing two of his fingers over the bundle of nerves with a moan, and when he leaned in hard to fuck his tongue as deep as possible into you, your high, airy whimpers made Sebastian’s head spin.
With one last pump of his tongue, Sebastian pulled away, grinning at the way you twitched in response to his efforts. You heard the water stir and felt the warm, wet weight of the Slytherin drape over your back as he leaned forward to kiss across your shoulder, his hands running soothingly up the sides of your waist.
“Fuck,” Sebastian breathed out, prompting you to turn and look at him over your shoulder. Your half-hooded eyes and parted lips sparked something in him then, and when you reached back to tangle your fingers in his hair, the brunet leaned in to meet you gladly. You moaned into the kiss, drawing a like-minded sound from Sebastian when you ground your hips back against his throbbing member. His thick hands gripped at your waist tightly as he gasped against your mouth, a desire unlike any he’d ever experienced overtaking him in a matter of seconds. The urge to feel you encasing him was overwhelming– enough so that for one brief moment, Sebastian allowed himself to press so hard against you that it stole your breath and smothered your senses.
“Sebastian,” you groaned from beneath him. Your gaze sought him out, but his own eyes were pinched shut as he relished in the ecstasy that fell over him from merely grinding against you. It wasn’t simply the act itself that was doing it for him. It was knowing that he was doing it with you. Everything he had craved for two whole years was finally coming to fruition, and despite wanting to relish in every second of it with you, Sebastian was losing himself to his impulses. You called to him again, “Sebastian, please.”
His chocolate brown eyes cracked open at the sound of your voice coupled with your incessant tugging on his hair, and his shaky sigh told you everything you needed to know; he was incredibly eager.
“S-Sorry,” he stammered out, swallowing thickly in a way that drew your attention to his bobbing adam’s apple. You merely shook your head in silent dismissal, then rocked back against him to spur him into motion. If it was guidance he needed, you were more than happy to provide it. “I don’t know how much longer I can draw this out,” he admitted with a low voice, and as though to punctuate the statement, you felt his fingers dig into the skin of your hips to prevent you from moving against him any further.
“Then don’t,” you insisted needily, yanking lightly on his hair once more to goad him into moving. “I’m ready if you are.”
“If it’s all the same to you,” Sebastian murmured, his voice gravelly and directly against the shell of your ear. “I’ll be the judge of that.”
You shivered in anticipation when you felt one of his hands trail down the swell of your rear to probe at your slick entrance with one of his fingers. His other hand traced soothing circles against lower back, relaxing you further until you had melted against the rim of the tub with your neck craned to the side to watch Sebastian as he worked.
When he sank one of his fingers into you slowly, you let loose a shaky exhale and felt a flush creep up your neck and onto your cheeks, leaving Sebastian biting his lip at the wanton image you made as he pressed the digit knuckle deep. Thrusting slowly, he eventually managed to work a second finger into you, trying not to think too hard about the way you looked spread around him, or the way you moved back against him, or how fucking wet you were.
“Sebastian,” you groaned. His eyes flicked back up to yours, entirely certain that he looked just as fucking needy as you did– especially given the way you shivered and rode back against his hand a little harder. “C-Curl your fingers down a little–” he did so, and was instantly rewarded with a telling jolt from you. “Oh fuck– there–”
The sound of Sebastian moaning to himself was almost lost in the way you were gasping and keening, and he moved his hand from your back to your hip to hold you in place as he followed the same path you’d instructed him to with his fingers. He thrusted a little harder, curling his digits against your sweet spot, and the way you arched your back and spread your thighs as far as you could without slipping while you gasped for Sebastian was fucking intoxicating.
It was too much.
Sebastian pulled his fingers free and reached towards you without a second thought, coiling his arm around your waist as he leaned in to kiss you again. You couldn’t help but whine at the way his cock rubbed against you, and you were near boneless in the brunet’s arms as his lips molded to yours and his tongue delved into your mouth. His strong arm held you fast to him as the other braced against the rim of the tub, holding him steady above you as he kissed you senseless. When he finally broke away to catch his breath, you practically sagged into the water beneath him.
“Merlin, Sebastian…”
“Are you okay?” The Slytherin’s voice was rough when he asked, low and raspy with arousal, and once you gave your enthusiastic approval, Sebastian reached between the two of you to line himself up before pressing into you.
Sebastian’s eyes squeezed shut at how you felt around him; tight, hot, and utterly incredible. He just barely managed to keep his composure as he slowly filled you, and your scarcely stifled gasps and keening whimpers were decidedly not helping him keep his wits about him. Every fiber of Sebastian’s being urged him to ram his cock into you– to fuck your brains out and hear his name spill from your lips in breathless screams. When he finally did sheathe himself all the way inside of you, he melted against your back, holding you tightly and whispering your name against your ear over and over again.
“Fuck, you’re…” you trailed off, subtly shaking against Sebastian’s damp skin. “You’re b-big.”
“Gods, darling,” Sebastian breathed, exhaling roughly into the nape of your neck. “Can I move?”
You gave a stuttered assent, but you were still insanely tight around his cock, so for both your sakes when Sebastian pulled back a little and rolled his hips back in, he did so slowly in a bid to test the waters.
No pun intended.
Your choked moan was more than enough of an answer for him, so he worked to set a slow, deep rhythm, buying himself time to get used to the heat wrapped around his cock. The gentle sigh that emanated from you coupled with the way your back bowed ever so slightly told Sebastian that his restraint was appreciated. But then you were glancing back at him from over your shoulder, and the rosy flush that colored your cheeks combined with your glazed over eyes nullified the majority of his self-control.
Sebastian blindly trusted you to keep steady on your knees as he gripped your hips to thrust into you harder, moving faster and giving gasping moans as you tensed and groaned, squeezing him in the most perfect way. He pulled you back onto his cock, adjusting his hips so he could fuck into your sweet spot, and the way you arched under him and cried out was fucking amazing.
“Oh f-fuck, Sebastian,” you moaned, reaching back to tangle your hand in his damp, brown curls, and Sebastian let you tug him closer so he could mouth along your shoulder, tasting the sweet-smelling bathsoaps as he went. The water splashed around you both, and you swore softly as a small wave of sudsy water sloshed up the side of the tub and sprayed you in your face.
Taking note of your predicament, Sebastian slowed his movements and angled his head so he could murmur directly in your ear, “Do you want to move?”
“We could, but– damn, Sebastian–”
Sebastian didn’t want to fucking move. He did want to see your face, though. He pulled out swiftly, and before you could move to climb out of the water, he grabbed and maneuvered you around so your back was pressed against the side of the tub with your legs bent over his elbows. When he reached back further to grip the rim of the tub on either side of you, he sank back into you with a low moan. Water wasn’t the most spectacular of lubricants as it turned out, but you were naturally slick enough that it was essentially a nonissue.
The expression that spread over your flushed face drove Sebastian a little crazy. He moved hot and slow, pulling back far with every aching thrust before filling you up and making you whimper. It’s exactly what Sebastian had wanted, but the way your eyes rolled shut just made him want to fuck you harder, water splashing in your face be damned.
He leaned in close and nipped at your swollen lips, still rolling his hips maddeningly slow. “I want to fuck you so hard,” he managed, voice shaking. “I want to hear you scream my name. I want to see you fall over the edge so hard that you pass out in my arms.” He snapped his hips, just enough to make you cry out. “I’ll fuck you just like that. I’ll make the Prefects come running from how loud you are. I hope you don’t have plans this weekend, because you’re mine until the bell tolls on Monday.”
You whimpered and shivered under Sebastian, sucking in sharp breaths with every slow thrust, and when you rode your hips back into the brunet, he couldn’t help but let his head hang between his shoulders, his dark eyes sliding shut. The way you were sucking him in deeper was mind-blowing, the water flowing in waves around the two of you, until a burning, tightening sensation took root in your gut and made you grit your teeth together in anticipation.
“S-Sebastian, fuck,” he thrust harder in response, grinding his hips into you and causing your back to arch with a gasping cry. “Sebastian, I’m– I’m going to–”
“Do it,” he gasped, leaning in to kiss you quickly and messily. “Let me see how you come for me.”
Your nails dug into his shoulder before you pulled one hand away to begin frantically rubbing circles over your swollen clit. You rocked your hips back into his and worked yourself closer to your finish with a low moan, keeping your movements in time with his thrusts. The way you licked your lips and the way you watched Sebastian with a dark, fucked-out gaze made him whimper. You were so intense– your lips parting on gasping moans of Sebastian’s name– and it took a surprising amount of self-control for him to not just fucking blow it right then. Instead, he bent you back just a little further, just enough to see that needy expression fall back over your face as he fucked you just that little bit harder.
Your moans grew higher, louder, breathier, until you were crying out and shaking in Sebastian’s arms. “S-Seb– fuck– I’m coming, I’m coming–”
Your spine rounded and your eyes squeezed shut as you clamped down tight on Sebastian’s cock, a guttural whine ripping from your heaving chest as your climax washed over you. The dexterous movements from your fingers took you higher than you thought possible, and the way you barely managed to choke out Sebastian’s name was enough to send the Slytherin over the edge.
He pressed himself against you and buried his cock deep, fucking you through your finish with short, fast thrusts while he moaned your name against your throat, his hands moving to grip your sides tight with trembling fingers. “Fuck, darling, fuck–”
Blearily, you moved your arm and wrapped it around Sebastian’s neck as he came, who was shaking and babbling far too loud for it to be muffled against your slick skin. You buried your face into his tangled hair, jolting slightly from every miniscule movement of his twitching member inside of you. When the bulk of his post-coital high had subsided, he began wetly mouthing up your neck and along your jaw before sweetly peppering kisses over your cheek. The demonstration brought a breathless grin to your face, and your hands found their way to the hair at the back of his neck before you wound your fingers through the strands.
“Merlin’s bloody balls,” Sebastian gritted out, sliding his arms out from under your knees to hold them fast to his waist. You followed his lead easily and wrapped your legs around his hips, sitting up to kiss him contentedly as your palms skimmed along his freckled back. He smiled against your lips and murmured, “We should probably get out. I can feel how pruney your fingers are.”
“Mm,” you hummed softly, pulling back from the kiss to hold one of your hands up to see how wrinkled your skin had become in the throes of passion. “You’re not wrong. But it would be counterproductive to not wash off all the sweat, wouldn’t it?”
Sebastian gave you a nonplussed blink before smiling brightly at you in agreement. Almost reluctantly, he slid free from your welcoming heat and deposited you on the shallow stone ledge, then hoisted himself out of the bath to pad over to his toiletry bag. After grabbing all the necessities and jumping back into the steaming water, the two of you took your time cleansing one another, lingering touches and thoughtful kisses being exchanged throughout the process. Eventually Sebatian found himself sitting with his back to the rim of the tub, your smaller figure situated comfortably between his legs as he scooped water into his hands and let it run over your shoulders. If your slouched posture was anything to go by, you were incredibly relaxed, and Sebastian realized dimly that he was too. To be with you in this way was everything he could ever want and more, and he didn’t want it to end. Not by a longshot.
“Let me come with you after graduation,” he said suddenly, his voice a mere whisper from behind you.
Your eyes fluttered open as you processed his request, the bathroom utterly silent except for the distant dripping of water from the faucet, and before long you were turning around to face him with your hands braced on his legs. “What?”
“Let me come with you,” he said again, conviction burning in his dark eyes. “To Poland. I want to do whatever I can to help you. Please don’t leave me behind.”
All you could do was blink for a moment before opening and closing your mouth in surprise. Sebastian’s unwavering gaze only prolonged the formation of words, until eventually you furrowed your brow and uncertainty took root. It wasn’t that you didn’t want him with you– far from it, in fact. The events that had transpired just minutes earlier had only proven that your close relationship was something to treasure for as long as possible, and you were more than ready to do exactly that. You just didn’t want him to throw his own ambitions to the side simply because you planned to travel. “What about what you want to do? Don’t you have your own plans? I thought Professor Weasley talked to you about–”
“I never made a decision,” he stated firmly and with a shake of his head. “The Professor had her own ideas about what I would excel at, but I never agreed or wanted to pursue any of her suggestions. I honestly felt like I was in limbo until now. My point is, what I want is to stay with you. I want to help you the same way you helped me with Anne, and I really, really don’t want to end up sitting alone in some office in London waiting for your owls to reach me. There’s always something missing when you’re not with me.”
To say you were an emotional mess would be a monumental understatement. Sebastian’s words struck something deep within you, something sentimental and desperate to come to the surface. He evidently saw your tears before you felt them, because he was instantly sitting forward to cup your cheeks in his wet hands before wiping them away with his thumbs. The concern on his face was apparent, but you were already smiling reassuringly at him before he could verbally ask if you were alright. “You really know how to confess to a girl, huh?”
He let loose an airy, relieved laugh that drifted over your nose and chilled your damp cheeks, and you wrapped your fingers around his wrists as he smiled anxiously at you. “I had a long time to practice. Is that a yes, then?”
“Yes, you can come with me. I would love it if you did,” you said, and the giddy excitement that radiated from the man was the most palpable thing in the room at that moment. “Two heads might be better than one, after all.”
Sebastian was on you in an instant. He coiled around you like a baby mooncalf and smiled so brightly that it easily rivaled the intensity of the sun. Water splashed everywhere as he spun you effortlessly within the bath, your capricious laughter reverberating off the walls of the spacious room as elation flooded your system. Being encased in his warm embrace was all the confirmation you needed that you had made the right choice. In turn, knowing that his future was all the clearer brought a sense of peace and belonging to Sebastian that he would hold on to for as long as he was able.
It just so happened that presently, he was holding on to you.
#sebastian sallow#sebastian sallow smut#sebastian sallow x you#sebastian sallow x reader#sebastian sallow x female!reader#hogwarts legacy#hogwarts legacy fanfic#hogwarts legacy fanfiction#sebastian sallow oneshot#hogwarts legacy oneshot#sebastian sallow x mc#I chewed my lip off trying to finish this before I have to leave for Medieval Times#gonna go watch knights joust on horse back and drink ale out of a tankard#bye happy reading MWAH#my writing
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ring hard launch - blurb
the content we got today just SCREAMS fiancé!harry for me so i came up with this, enjoy !
gif by @sunkissedlouis <3
MASTERLIST | MY PATREON
If there was something that was definitely at the top of your list of favorite activities, was spending time with Harry.
It didn't matter if it was getting groceries, joining him for a bike ride or simply laying on the couch together, every moment that you spent together brought you contentment and joy that you couldn't find anywhere else.
And now that he was your fiancé, it was safe to say that both of you wanted to be glued to each other every single minute.
Harry proposed the morning of New Year's Eve, in the comfort of your home with both of you in your pajamas as you enjoyed homemade breakfast bagels, and it was absolutely perfect.
Ever since, you had been happier than ever, sharing the news with your family and closest friends and enjoying your engagement in private without prying eyes from paparazzi, fans and media.
"We better win tonight," Your train of thought was interrupted by Harry's voice, you were currently heading to the Luton vs Man United game, and even though you couldn't care less about football, your need to be close to him all the time made you say yes when he asked you to join him, "Thank you for tagging along, baby. I know this is not your scene so it's nice you came."
"I'm just here for the drinks and snacks," you teased, watching him roll his eyes at you, "And to enjoy the evening with my handsome fiancé, of course."
"There we go," he smiled now, grabbing your hand and placing a small kiss to the ring on your finger.
Ever since you got engaged, that had became his favorite habit, and it made your heart flutter every single time.
"It sucks that I have to take it off," you said, making him look at you with a raised eyebrow, "The ring, I mean. I have to take it off before we get out of the car, otherwise headlines will go crazy and Jeff is going to freak out."
"Mm-hmm," he paused to think, eyes darting for the road to you, "What if... you don't have to take it off?"
"What do you mean?" you said, noticing that you were about to enter the back of the stadium.
"I mean..." he grabbed your hand again, tugging the ring affectionately, "What if we let the world know about it? I talked to Jeff and the rest of the team last week, they said we could make it public whenever we felt like it, at our own terms. So why don't we do it today?"
Harry parked the car at the spot that was reserved for him and turned to look at you with a wide smile, waiting for your answer.
"Are you sure?" you smiled back at him, noticing the glow in his eyes that almost made you melt.
"Couldn't be more sure, love. Besides, the album is coming soon and everyone is going to connect the dots as soon as they listen to the first song, might as well give them an early heads up."
"Let's do it," you said, leaning over to kiss him, "I feel like everyone is going to focus on the fact that you're finally outside and with brand new hair, they won't even notice the rock on my finger."
Harry rolled his eyes again and gave you another kiss, "I swear to god, woman. You're something else."
You headed inside of the stadium to the VIP suit you were going to watch the game in, walking hand in hand with your engagement ring glistening on your finger, cameras around filming and taking pictures of both of you.
"Do you think twitter is freaking out yet?" you asked Harry as you settled on your seats.
"No idea, baby, I don't use that app," he shrugged, "Do you want anything to drink?"
"Would you get me something fruity that has alcohol that doesn't quite taste like alcohol? That's the only way I won't be bored to death."
"Sure thing." Harry laughed and kissed the side of your head before standing up to get your drink, coming back a few minutes later with exactly what you asked and a bottle of sparkling water for himself.
"So we're rooting for Man U, right?" you asked as you took a sip from your drink.
"Seven years together, months away from getting married, yet you still don't know I'm a Man U ride or die," he put a hand on his chest, "I don't think this is going to work."
"I was just teasing, drama queen," you pecked his cheek, "I know your true loves are Man U, the Green Bay Packers, peas and Fleetwood Mac."
"And you," he winked, making you roll your eyes with affection and take another sip from your drink.
A few minutes into the game, you found yourself quite invested on it, constantly asking Harry about the stuff you didn't understand and getting nervous when the other team was about to score or your team missed a goal.
"Lord, I don't want to watch," you said as a player from the opposite team was getting ready to hit a penalty, hiding your face against Harry's shoulder, "Harry! You're supposed to be watching the game, you've been staring at me for half of it now."
"Sorry, you're just too cute," he kissed the crown of your head, "You can watch now, he failed it."
"Thank god."
By the end of the game, you were both on your feet, cheering as Man United secured a win. Harry was ecstatic, and you found yourself caught up in the excitement, cheering alongside him.
While you were engulfed in your own bubble during the game, cameras has caught up on the ring of your finger, and Harry and you immediately became a world trending topic, with fans speculating whether you were actually engaged or not.
As you laid in bed scrolling through the millions of tweets about the game Harry finally emerged from the bathroom, ready to get in the covers.
"Are you reading about us?" he asked, sliding into bed beside you.
"Yeah," you replied, showing him some of the tweets, "But I don't think it was quite clear for some of your fans, some of them don't think we're really engaged."
"Well, I guess it'll be clear when the album comes out."
#harry styles#harry styles fake instagram#harry styles imagine#harry styles fluff#harry styles x reader#harry styles blurb#harry styles one shot#harry styles writing#harry styles x you#harry styles fic#harry styles au#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles headcanon#harry styles fake social media#harry styles fic rec#harrysfolklore#harry styles instagram concept#harry styles headcannon#harry styles fanfic#1k
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Charles Leclerc x CEO!Reader - Social Media AU
Formula 1 News: Everything We Know About Arnault Racing So Far
The team is owned by LVMH, the world’s leading luxury goods company, and is named after the prominent Arnault family, which includes LVMH’s chief operating officer Y/N Arnault, wife of Charles Leclerc. Y/N is the youngest daughter of Bernard Arnault, the world’s richest man, and is said to be his favored successor.
They are expected to benefit from the extensive resources and expertise of LVMH which boasts a diverse portfolio of luxury brands such as Louis Vuitton, Christian Dior, Moët & Chandon, TAG Heuer, and Tiffany & Co. These assets could potentially provide Arnault Racing with a competitive edge on and off the track in a sport heavily reliant on business dealings.
As with any new team, Arnault Racing will face numerous challenges including building a strong technical staff, securing talented drivers, and establishing partnerships with sponsors and suppliers. However, the backing of LVMH’s vast resources and the Arnault family’s commitment to success bode well for their prospects.
While no official announcement has been made regarding Charles Leclerc’s involvement with Arnault Racing, his familial connection to the team coupled with his recent decision to step away from Scuderia Ferrari has fueled rumors and heightened interest in whether he will be part of Arnault Racing’s driver lineup … (Read more)
Press Conference of Arnault Racing CEO, Y/N Arnault, and Team Principal, Sebastian Vettel
REPORT Arnault Racing snags Adrian Newey: CEO Y/N Arnault says “whatever arbitrary figure you have in your head, triple it and that’s how much we offered him” (Aug 2023)
NEWS Red Bull loses LVMH-owned sponsor TAG Heuer as entry of Arnault Racing brings new conflict of interest (Dec 2023)
UPDATE A weekend of team bonding on the beach after the car launch? Charles Leclerc and Mick Schumacher talk about flourishing environment at Arnault Racing (Feb 2024)
FEATURE What to expect from Arnault Racing — data from preseason testing explained (Feb 2024)
REPORT Podiums and points: a strong start to the season for newcomers Arnault Racing (Mar 2024)
FEATURE The Prince that was promised: Charles Leclerc triumphs in Monaco (May 2024)
UPDATE Who are the ‘losers’ and ‘winners’ halfway through the season? Arnault closes in on Red Bull as Ferrari falls behind (Jul 2024)
FEATURE What could have been — Arnault’s Charles Leclerc tops the podium in Monza as Tifosi look on (Sep 2024)
NEWS Red Bull’s reign continues as Arnault brings home historic P2 in both the Drivers’ and Contructors’ championship during debut season (Nov 2024)
REPORT Arnault promises more competitive 2025 season following already impressive first year on the grid (Jan 2025)
“We find ourselves at the edge of our seats here in Abu Dhabi. It all comes down to this final lap of the season and the battle for the World Championship has reached its peak! Charles Leclerc of Arnault and Max Verstappen of Red Bull are locked in a fierce duel for the ultimate prize.”
“This is the moment every racing fan has been waiting for. The atmosphere here is electric and the stakes couldn’t be higher. Leclerc and Verstappen have been pushing the absolute limits of their cars and their skills throughout this intense race.”
“They certainly have. Both drivers have showcased their exceptional talent and determination all season long. It’s a clash of titans, and now, as they approach the final corners, it’s do-or-die time.”
“Leclerc has been holding onto the lead for the majority of this race but Verstappen is focused in his pursuit. The Dutchman is determined to wrestle this championship away from Leclerc’s grasp.”
“The tension is palpable here as they enter the final sector. Leclerc seems to be holding his ground but Verstappen is right on his tail, looking for the slightest opportunity to strike!”
“This is nail-biting stuff. The championship hangs in the balance as they approach the final turn. Leclerc takes a defensive line but Verstappen moves to the inside. He’s desperately trying to overtake!”
“Verstappen is side-by-side with Leclerc! They’re wheel-to-wheel! What an incredible battle! They both accelerate out of the corner …”
“They’re neck and neck! It’s an all-out sprint to the checkered flag. Who will emerge victorious?”
“Leclerc finds another gear! He edges ahead of Verstappen!”
“It’s a photo finish! They cross the line. And ... it’s Charles Leclerc! Charles Leclerc has done it! Charles Leclerc is the World Champion!”
“What an incredible end to the season. Charles Leclerc and Arnault Racing have taken the championship title in a heart-stopping finale!”
“This is the stuff of legends. Leclerc has proven himself a champion through and through today. The emotion in the Arnault Racing garage is indescribable!”
“What an amazing moment for Leclerc and his team. This race will be remembered for years to come. Congratulations to Charles Leclerc! Congratulations to Arnault Racing!”
y/narnault
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y/narnault ✨ Abu Dhabi, 2017 ✨
A chance encounter in the paddock with a hotshot young driver sent us both sprawling to the ground and ignited a spark that changed our lives forever. Our love story began in Yas Marina as Charles celebrated the end of the season after winning the F2 championship. Little did we know that this would be the start of a remarkable journey, both on and off the track
Fast forward to ...
✨ Abu Dhabi, 2025 ✨
As the CEO of Arnault Racing, it fills my heart with immense pride to witness our immensely talented driver win a much deserved World Drivers' Championship. As the wife of Charles Leclerc, it makes me even prouder to see the most amazing person I know finally be granted the fruit of his labors. There has been no sweeter feeling than chasing our dreams hand-in-hand
Eight years later, in Yas Marina once again, our journey came full circle. Our love, like a well-oiled machine, has only grown stronger with each challenge we faced. Working together as a team, we transformed dreams into reality and surpassed every limit. The joy of victory, the adrenaline of the race — it all pales in comparison to the love and support we share
To our extraordinary team at Arnault Racing, thank you for your relentless commitment and tireless efforts. Each one of you has played a vital role in making history this season and we truly could not have done it without you
Charles, my champion, you continue to inspire me every day with your talent, dedication, and resilient spirit. The road here has not always been easy but I am thankful for every obstacle we faced because they made us grow as people and as partners in both love and racing. We have weathered the storms and celebrated the triumphs. The countless hours of hard work, sacrifice, and pouring over data for so long that we forgot the cookies burning in the oven brought us to this extraordinary moment of victory. But beyond the increasingly crowded trophy cases and roaring crowds, it is our love that always shines the brightest. No matter where we may have placed in the standings, I was always content in knowing that we are P1 on the podium of life — and now we stand on top of both together
This chapter is just beginning. There are still many races left to win, many trophies left to raise, and many championships left to clinch
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charles_leclerc From the moment we met, you have seen me not just as a driver or public figure but as a person with hopes, dreams, and flaws. You have been there for me through the setbacks and the victories and your faith in me never has wavered. Your belief in me pushed me to be the best version of myself and I will spend the rest of our lives eternally grateful for being sent such an angel. Our victories are not only measured by the number of trophies or the applause of the crowds but in the quiet moments we get to bask in the life we built together. Our love has always been the beacon that guides me, even in the darkest of times. It is the constant reminder that no matter where we stand in the standings, we have each other to lean on. I have no doubt that it is because of you that I stand here today. You are my pillar of strength, my constant motivation, and my rock. Without your love and support, none of this would have been possible. Thank you, mon amour, for believing in me, for supporting me, and for always standing by my side. It is fate that brought us together and destiny that irreversibly wove our hearts into one
f1wagupdates you two are singlehandedly keeping my belief in true love alive
formulanone how are they still in the honeymoon phase after eight years together and i can’t even get a text back?
arnaultracing there are power couples and then there is THE power couple 🤩
GQ France: An Interview with 2025 Formula 1 World Champion Charles Leclerc
charles_leclerc and y/narnault
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charles_leclerc Baby Leclerc will make their F1 debut in August 🍼
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pierregasly hmmm i wonder what happened a little over nine months before the due date?
mickschumacher no wonder we couldn’t find them during the championship party 😳
arnaultracing a championship baby for our champions 🏆
lovelyleclerc oh to be reincarnated as their baby
leclercbabe it’s really getting gifted godly genes, money, and talent 😭
princecharles is it bad that i’m jealous of a baby that hasn’t even been born yet?
#f1 imagine#f1#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 fanfiction#f1 x reader#f1 x you#social media au#charles leclerc#instagram au#instagram imagine#cl16#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc fic#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc blurb#f1 blurb#f1 fluff#f1 instagram au#instagram edit#fake instagram#f1 fandom#formula 1#insta edit#f1blr#f1edit
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𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞 [gojo satoru]
synopsis: in every other universe and lifetime he has yet to lead, megumi will always cherish the painfully brief time he felt the warmth of a proper family and would have gladly referred to himself as the son of the strongest.
pairing: gojo satoru x f!reader | song inspo: chemtrails over the country club, scott street | visuals: megumi’s jacket
warnings: angst-ish, canon-compliant violence (mostly caused by our pookie wookie megumi who doesn’t tolerate scumbag bullies), mentions of bullying, and possible (bc i’m delulu) character death. | a/n: i just want megumi to have one last moment with his dad please, gege, i’m on my knees here. also hehe, get the title? ya’ll get it? someone please shove that arctic-haired freak to the NORTH! 🥹
Nobara Kugisaki is the classic definition of an Instagram girlie with a passion for fashion.
Honestly, she could appropriately appraise clothes without a second glance, and she could differentiate big fashion brands just by the fabric and silhouette alone even without a brand logo.
It happened on a Monday afternoon while she and Yuji were having a quick coffee in the lounge. Yuji is currently playing one of his Nintendo Switch MMORPG games that he bought from the mall last Saturday while Nobara was scrolling through her phone, swiping left as she watches her mutuals’ Instagram stories. The trio is incomplete today since Megumi mentioned he’ll be running some errands with you and Satoru today.
After positively getting envious of Mei Mei’s supposed extravagant shopping trip in Ginza today, Kugisaki promptly mutes any stories from her for a full twenty four hours. Then, as she swipes left yet again, she nearly drops her phone on the ground which would pretty much set her off on a rampage because she just got its LCD screen fixed. But luckily, she holds onto it.
“Fushiguro has an Instagram account?!”
Yuji himself hits pause on the game he’s playing and leans over the table to see what Kugisaki is talking about. No way. Fushiguro? That sulky, couldn’t-be-bothered-to-care-but-I-actually-do-care embodiment of teenage angst having an Instagram handle? What would he even post on there?
Their questions are answered as Fushiguro’s feed pops up, and it’s filled with his pictures, but that’s not the issue. The two dunderheads didn’t seem to mind that in every photo, Megumi looked like a magazine cover boy, what caught their attention is the apparel he’s wearing.
“What the hell?! He’s wearing Arc’teryx?” Kugisaki couldn’t believe it. She zooms in on the candid shot of Megumi in what looks to be a ski resort and an audible gasp escapes her throat. No way. No frigging way. She does a quick image search and sure enough, she is redirected to Arc’teryx’s official website. See? Kugisaki never misses when it comes to fashion.
Yuji’s eyes nearly pop out of their sockets when he sees the price tag. “One thousand five hundred US dollars?!”
“And look at this! He’s literally tagged in Gojo and Y/N-sensei’s stories.”
Sure enough, the first they see is Satoru’s story which has a video of you picking out new clothes from the rack for Megumi to try on in the fitting room. You looked so cute and teeny tiny next to the teenager and Kugisaki giggles at the thought you walking around with two literal giants in the mall, one of them being your ward and the other, your arctic-haired husband of three years.
“There’s another one!” Itadori says excitedly. The next is a story you took, it’s a photo of Megumi and Gojo, their backs turned and their hands fully occupied by shopping bags, seemingly unaware of the camera. In the photo, they’re checking out new sneakers in Onitsuka Tiger’s storefront window. In a flash, Kugisaki switches off her phone, and immediately begins to head out the door. “Hey, where’re you going?”
Nobara knows that particular galleria, it should be in Tokyo Midtown. “Out, maybe I could borrow Gojo-sensei’s or Y/N-sensei’s credit card!”
“Are you sure you don’t need me to come along?”
Gojo chuckles under his breath. It’s honestly amusing how you won’t normally ask that, given his newfound title as the strongest Jujutsu sorcerer of this generation. A skirmish with a grade two cursed spirit? Pfft. That’s practically child’s play to your white-haired boyfriend. A rogue grade one cursed spirit that turned out to be a special grade? Maybe you’ll sneak some bandages in his bag just in case. Bottom line is you wholeheartedly trust Satoru will always make it out of a mission in one piece.
But here you were seemingly more tense than usual which is incomprehensible because today’s hardly dangerous mission is simple.
Track down the son of Toji Fushiguro.
“I think I got it, babe.” Satoru leans his head in through the rolled down car window to plant a kiss on your forehead. He pats your cheek lovingly, setting off in the direction of the house after taking one last confirmatory look at the address written down in the file sheet. “Well, let’s hope he’s nothing like his dad. Promise you’ll check on me if I don’t come back in an hour?” he teases.
You lightly slap his wrist. Sometimes you wonder how you fell in love with this literal man-child. He’s just so insufferable. Gorgeous in every way but insufferable all the same. “I’m pretty sure a six-year-old boy isn’t gonna try to murder you. If he does, let the record show that I sympathize with him completely.”
“You meanie!”
Sticking his tongue out at you when you blow him a kiss, he disappears into the small street adjacent to the neighborhood’s main road. Coming here, Satoru was uncharacteristically nervous. At the rest stop earlier, you watched the scene tensely from the convenience store window. For once, the obnoxiously loud sorcerer was quiet, hands in his uniform pockets, his cerulean orbs trained on the pavement, his foot kicking the asphalt pebbles on the ground, deep in thought.
To be honest, he had no obligation to make the journey here even if this entire affair was born from Toji Fushiguro’s final words that sounded almost like a desperate plea. “In two or three years, my kid will be sold off to the Zenin clan. Do whatever you will with that.” Satoru doesn’t know why — he’s not exactly the brightest when it comes to his interpersonal relationship skills so he could be wrong about this — but those twenty one words sounded more like four simple words: “Please save my son.”
And so, in a matter of only thirty minutes, you spot Satoru from afar, his hand protectively around his would have been assassin’s six-year-old son as they walk back to the car. Looks like the little boy had made his choice.
And you could see with the way Satoru protectively held Megumi back from crossing the street on a green light that he has also made his choice. Just thirty minutes ago, you were bantering with the version of Satoru that would be reluctant to go out of his way to help someone, now, you were face to face with someone new, someone who has been changed almost in a blink of an eye.
Stepping out of the car, you make your way towards the pair, a faint smile on your lips at the sight of Megumi’s tiny backpack slung over Satoru’s shoulder. Your boyfriend gently nudges Megumi over in your direction, introducing him and you crouch down to meet the little boy’s hesitant eyes. “Hi there, Megumi.” Your voice is as carefully gentle as a psalm, you didn’t want to overwhelm him more than he probably already is. “I’m Y/N.”
“Hello.”
“Ice cold,” Satoru whistles, ruffling Megumi’s hair. But you figured that would be the case. A quiet breath of laughter comes from Satoru when you smile endearingly at the kid’s curtness.
As the three of you settle into the backseat, you and Satoru share a fond look when Megumi who has acted all guarded and silent the entire ride home from Chiba begins to drift off to sleep, his arms hugging his backpack but he was dangerously teetering off the seat, so Satoru gently picks him up, allowing him to lay his tiny head on his shoulder.
“He’s gonna stick around with us for a long time, huh?” you whispered, rubbing Megumi’s back as he slept soundly in Satoru’s arms, the three of yu blissfully unaware of just how much your life has changed. You came to Chiba and there was only you and Satoru, now, you were three. And though you know Satoru doesn’t intend to step in as a guardian, you could tell he was slowly settling into the inevitability of that fact. This boy needed a new start, a home, and people to guide him as he grew.
“…Yeah, he will,” Satoru answers, his eyes filled with wonder himself. Earlier when he first met Megumi, he told him to become strong enough to keep up with him.
But for now, maybe this was enough.
For the most part, Megumi is a good kid.
He diligently helps you with the housework without needing to be told twice the same way he diligently trains under Gojo’s tutelage. He studies hard despite only being in primary school, and he’s well-mannered in every way…at least to you, the kid won’t pass up the opportunity to scowl and call Satoru a lanky freak when he’s being pestered by him.
Because he’s so young to be sleeping in Tokyo Jujutsu High’s dormitories, you and Satoru settled into the idea of renting an apartment near the campus premises. Since you and Satoru are eighteen years old now, it was high time that the two of you start growing into your roles as functional adults which means leasing an apartment, paying the bills, growing your careers and taking your relationship to the next level.
Of course, you and Satoru both piled in cash when it comes to raising Megumi. Satoru mostly shouldered rent, monthly utilities and Megumi’s tuition, being a rich guy like him, those were practically small beans to him. You, on the other hand, shouldered the groceries, Megumi’s clothes and other needs.
One day, while on your way to pick up Megumi, you pass by the trendy Daikanyama district due to a road closure leading to the Ebisu district where Megumi’s primary school is. The inconvenience is nothing short of serendipitous as you and your boyfriend really did need a quick breather and some time for yourselves.
“I feel like I’m gonna turn into a wine dad very soon. Who would have known enrolling a kid would be that tough?” Satoru huffs, his hand protectively around your waist as you walked past boutique after boutique. “Like how am I supposed to know what his blood type is for the school clinic record?”
You hummed, sneakily stealing a kiss from him to which he responds to by pulling you closer, and pretending to bite off your ear. “For all the school knew, Megumi is ours. That would explain why they felt a little icky towards us when they saw how young we are back in that parent-teacher meeting.”
“Mmph, fair point. A cute son will come from a handsome father after all—“
“—Oh please. You’re okay at best.”
“You didn’t say that last night when I had you all folde—“
“—Please do not finish that sentence in public.”
Digressing, Satoru sighs, planting a contrite kiss on your warm cheek as the two of you leisurely walk down the picturesque lane of Tokyo’s very own version of Soho. Once you reach the main road, a certain outerwear apparel store catches your eye. You stop in front of the store window, looking curiously at the displayed winter items. “Megumi’s birthday is coming up soon, no? We should get him something nice.”
“Hmm? Oh right, the 22nd is coming up,” Satoru hums thoughtfully, leading you inside the store. There, the two of you split up to look for a nice gift for Megumi. There, he is approached by a staff member who asks if he’s looking for anything in particular. Satoru clears his throat, nodding. “I’m looking to buy a gift for my son.”
Somehow, you heard that from across the store and you shoot Satoru an amused look when he refers to Megumi as ‘his son’.
“Right, and how old might he be? We have a batch of new arrivals that came in today. They’re perfect for kids aged four and above.” At that, you rejoin Satoru and the sales staff leads you to check out the items at the front of the store. You and Satoru sort through the rack and find one that the two of you agree on: a fleece two-toned gravel winter jacket.
After paying for it, the two of you rush to get to Ebisu elementary school. Making your way to the gate, Megumi instantly spots you and Satoru, the latter being very difficult to miss since he pretty much towered over everyone else.
“Hi, kid, d’you have fun today?” you crouch down to give Megumi a hug. Between you and Satoru, you were the more clingy one towards Megumi, there’s hardly any hesitation in your heart when you pull him in for a warm embrace or carry him in your arms. Luckily, he didn’t seem to mind one bit, but if Satoru did any of the those things to him, he’ll probably headbut him.
“It was fine,” Megumi says shyly once you pull away. “Oh and I got a hundred on the math homework you helped me with.”
“You did?” you smiled. “I’m so proud of you, Megumi.” Satoru smiles, going to ruffle Megumi’s hair only for the little boy to duck away from his hand and hide behind you.
Chuckling at the kid’s antics, Satoru concedes, putting up his free hand in surrender while his other one held onto the gift bag you got. Megumi reads the name of the store: “The North Face”. Following Megumi’s gaze, Satoru grins, handing Megumi the bag. “Here, we got you something. Call it an advanced birthday gift.”
Megumi’s expression screamed: “You didn’t have to.” but you don’t miss the look of surprise and gratitude that shined through his features. You gently nudge him to open it and his breath hitches in his throat when he sees the gift you got him — the first gift he’s ever received.
“Happy birthday, Megumi,” you and Satoru greet the little boy, with Satoru helping Megumi to try it on.
That was the first time Megumi initiated a heartfelt hug and the first time he ever included Satoru, his little arms trying their hardest to include the two of you, so you decide to help him out, and your and Satoru’s arms engulf the little one.
“Thank you.”
“I don’t know what happened, but I’m headed there now. Alright, see you soon. I love you.”
Everything happened so quickly. One minute you were in Tokyo Jujutsu High’s teacher lounge organizing the first years’ missions for the next few days when you receive a call from Ebisu elementary school, informing you that Megumi got into a horrible fight and was now in the school clinic ready to be picked up, the next you were dashing out the door hurrying over to the school with your heart pounding in your chest.
There, you are the quintessential picture of a frazzled mother looking for her son in the school clinic.
“Y/N!”
“Megumi,” you breathed, your eyebrows knitting together in worry. Gathering him into your arms, you sit on the tiny hospital bed. “What happened? They said you got into a fight? And where’s your jacket?” He was wearing the jacket you got for him this morning when you and Satoru dropped him off, actually, he’s been wearing it a lot, indicating it’s one of, if not his favorite jacket.
Before Megumi could even speak, it looks like the kid that he got into a tussle with had already tattled on him to his mother and now said mother is furiously berating you and Megumi, not caring if anyone else in the clinic could overhear the scandalous remarks she’s throwing your way.
“I want full disciplinary action against this boy!” the middle aged woman all but screeches to the school’s principal, pointing an accusatory finger at Megumi who doesn’t flinch but you hear him sniffle. He’s never been yelled at like that before.
“Ma’am, please, let’s settle this like two rational adults—“
“—Oh I will, I can’t say the same about you! Are you not the least bit ashamed that you couldn’t teach your son good morals?” She then theatrically goes to place her hands on her son’s shoulders. And you have to be honest, with that bruised lip of his alongside his bleeding nose, Megumi had done some serious damage to the boy.
“I — Megumi is a good kid, not once, have we ever seen him hit someone for no reason—“
“—So you’re saying it’s my son’s fault yours is emotionally unstable? This boy doesn’t need a good talking to, what he needs is psychological intervention!”
“Alright, can everyone just please calm down?” The principal, too, seems visibly uncomfortable with the vile words the other parent was spewing at you like machine gun fire. “We’re all here to fix the problem, not make it worse.”
Pinching the bridge of your nose, you could tell this conversation has reached an impasse. Clearly, there’s no way you could reach a mutual understanding of what should be done to resolve the issue.
The older woman looks at you in disdain, grumbling under her breath at the humiliation of being scolded, “What should I even expect from an irresponsible woman who got knocked up before she was even an adult?”
“Don’t you dare talk about my wife or my son that way.”
Megumi looks up, tears in his eyes when Satoru strides in, his normally shining blue eyes dark with a fury that cannot be quelled. You can’t even feel the butterflies that went wild in your stomach when he accidentally referred to you as ‘his wife’ without so much as a stutter because you’re honestly this close to chewing the vile woman out. It didn’t matter if she insulted you, but if she does so much as insult and make your boy cry, you and Satoru will give the weasel a matching patch on her scalp where there should have been hair had you not ripped it out.
But now was not the time to prove her right.
People have always judged you and Satoru for being acting parents at such a young age, often giving you rude stares when you’re out and about doing the most menial of things like shopping at the supermarket or spending some time in the kōen, people found your current situation disgusting, borderline immoral, which is why you initially had trouble looking for an elementary school that would properly entertain you, Satoru and Megumi and not dismiss you three as a bunch of kids playing house.
“Satoru…” you rub your boyfriend’s arm soothingly.
“Babe, she insulted you and ‘Gumi,” Satoru whispers sadly. “I can’t just let her do that.”
All of a sudden, Megumi’s voice cuts through the tension in the room. “Daisuke was being mean. He ruined Hana-chan’s project and made her cry.” At that, the kid named Daisuke bites his lip, his skin turning pallid at the revelation. “And when I told him to apologize, he and Kaito…” Megumi whimpers, trailing off. He averts his gaze from your and Satoru’s, feeling guilty.
And right then and there, the story becomes even clearer when an unexpected witness comes to Megumi’s defense.
“Megumi-kun? We found your jacket, it’s not too damaged, but you may want to have your mama and papa wash it when you get home.” The school nurse walks in and hands you the ruined jacket, it had been cut all over but since it’s fleece, the damage isn’t too bad, not only that, it had crayon marks all over it and it smelled of the dumpster.
“…Daisuke and Kaito ruined my jacket and I punched him,” Megumi sniffles. “I’m sorry.” He wasn’t apologizing for punching Daisuke, that much you could tell, he was apologizing to you and Gojo for supposedly not taking care of the gift you two got him just last week.
The vile mother scoffs at your son’s apology. “Save your breath, you little liar—“
“—He wasn’t talking to you,” Satoru glares at the woman, effectively shutting her up. “Come on, we’re going home.” With that, Satoru, being careful with him given his sprained wrist, carries Megumi out the clinic. You offer the principal a polite nod, indicating that you’ll cooperate with any sanction she seems fit for Megumi, Kaito and Daisuke, before following Satoru and Megumi to the parking lot. A melancholic smile appears on your lips when you hear Satoru reassuring Megumi that you’ll just wash and mend the jacket once you get home to which, Megumi only buries his face in the crook of his father figure’s neck.
If there is one good thing that happened today, it’s the fact that you proved to yourself and to each other that, no one in this world is allowed to hurt or insult your family.
Satoru wakes up to an empty bed and he doesn’t pretend to wonder where you are. He stays like that for a full minute, simply staring at the ceiling while your side of the bed slowly loses its warmth. He knows you’re hurting, and he knows just how much this entire ordeal has taken from you. First, you had to deal with him being sealed in the Prison Realm, now this…
You really just couldn’t catch a break, could you?
Slowly, Satoru gets up and pads across the hallway, entering a painfully familiar room. The owner of the room has only since recently moved out, but for ten years, this room is one he normally frequented with you, whether it be on Christmas mornings to greet the little prince that occupied such a special place in your heart or on nights when the three of you just simply needed to hold each other, searching for comfort, while you slept.
The door creaks open and Satoru’s eyes well up with tears, his heart plagued by the same emotional turmoil that was haunting you day in and day out. “I just want our boy to come home…I want our son back,” you cried as you held the jacket Megumi had outgrown, the same one he wore almost everyday that winter when he first came to live with you and Satoru.
Instantly, Satoru sits next to you on Megumi’s bed, hushing your cries, kissing away each agonizing tear that slipped from the confines of your sorrowful orbs.
“He must be so scared,” you sniffled, picturing Megumi in the darkest crevices of Sukuna’s soul, trapped and alone. “I don’t even know if he’s alright, if he’s even slept at all or if he’s being tormented by Sukuna day in and day out. What if he’s in pain? What if he’s cold?” you sobbed into your husband’s chest, your cries growing more desperate with each hour Megumi isn’t home safe.
“Shh, shh…I know, sweetheart…I’ll get him back, I promise I’ll bring him home.”
Or he’ll die trying.
Somewhere in the void, Megumi Fushiguro is in a state of catatonic stasis. Is this what limbo feels like? He just wants to sleep, to give in and let Sukuna’s soul consume him.
It’s so cold…so…cold.
No! He can’t give up, more than his desire to tap out and just live and let die…he wants to go home where he belongs.
You and Satoru must be so worried about him and he was worried too, what if something had happened out there while he was here? What if…something happened to the two of you when he hasn’t even done a thing to thank you both for all the love you’ve given him throughout these years? So with his last inch of consciousness remaining, he spends it on a silent plea.
“Mom…dad…please come find me.”
#gojo headcanons#gojo satoru headcanons#gojo satoru x reader#jjk gojo#gojo x reader#jujutsu gojo#gojo satoru#gojou satoru x reader#gojo x you#gojo x y/n#gojo satoru x y/n#gojo satoru x reader angst#gojo angst#gojo satoru angst#jjk angst#jjk drabbles#jjk imagines#jjk headcanons#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader angst#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen angst#megumi angst#megumi fushiguro#megumi fushiguro angst#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x you#gojo x reader angst#gojo satoru x you#gojo x y/n angst
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Until We Found You
Hello! This is my first time ever posting onto here, so please excuse any mistakes or any tags that may be missing. I wanted to write about a poly!ghostface au and age up all the characters and place them into college. I hope this gets at least a few reads!
Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI Part VII Part VIII Part IX
Context: Modern Day College Scream AU, Obsessed AFAB!Reader, Eventual Poly!Ghostface x reader, Eventual NSFW, All characters 18+
You bit down on the tip of your pencil, chewing the metal part of it as you spaced out for the hundredth time today. A few days ago news broke of one of your best friends being killed, Casey Becker, and like every day since that fateful night, news reporters were swarming the campus. Woodsboro University was famous overnight for it, a crazed killer on the loose in the town and no one knew why Casey and her boyfriend Steve were the victims. What made it truly unnerving was that no one knew if they were going to be the only ones.
It didn’t make you scared, not really at least, you were more intrigued than worried if you were going to be the next person to get a mysterious phone call. No, you spent the next morning with Randy and learned all about what happened. How Steve was found bound to the chair, duct tape and blood practically branded onto him, and how the Beckers found Casey. She was one of your best friends, you couldn’t deny you felt like you needed some therapy for not crying for more than maybe an hour over her, but something in you was more interested in who did it.
That was what was on your mind for the hundredth time today, any of Casey’s boyfriends all the way to fucking pre-k could be a suspect, maybe her family, or maybe it was some random stranger who decided to take their anger out on an unsuspecting teenage girl. Randy and you talked all first period about your suspicions on who it could be, even accusing each other of being the killer, it did fit after all, the two horror buffs who knew every goddamn easter egg in every horror movie there was, it seemed perfect.
“Sidney, can you please tell your friend the answer to at least make it seem like she was listening?” Ms. Crane asked, Sidney nudging you and whispering the answer as the class laughed. “ah, um, phosphorus gas.” You answered, looking at Sidney with wide eyes after you answered. “Phosphine, but I will take that. You guys can pack up, let me take role before you all leave.” Ms. Crane said with a sigh.
“What’s up with you? Are you totally sure you don’t want to go to the grief counselor after school? I mean even Tate went-“ “Sid, I’m fine, seriously. I just, it’s freaky is all. I mean not knowing who did it? What if they have a thing for college chicks, I think we fit into that category very well and-“ “And we will be fine, it was probably just a one-time thing…I mean it's more likely that it is, right?” Sidney asked as she packed her bag, putting a comforting hand on your shoulder. “Don’t sweat it, if you want you can stay at my place for the week, my dad’s on a trip and I would kinda enjoy the company,” she offered, smiling at you reassuringly. You gave a nod, “yeah, let me just at least spend tonight at my place, my mom will kill me if I miss dinner tonight and take off for a week out of the blue.” “Are you sure you’re really 19 and not 9?” Sidney asked jokingly, earning a laugh from you.
After dinner you had taken a shower, your parents had gone out for the night to take a late-night date- which you theorized was them renting a motel to not risk traumatizing you. You brushed out your hair as you sat down on your vanity chair, putting it into a braid before you went to bed. Your cat was sitting peacefully on your bed, moving every now and then to change her position before darting out of your room. “Irena!” You called after her, scoffing when she didn’t come back to the room. You put your hairbrush down onto your vanity, taking a look in the mirror before getting up from your seat. “I hope you don’t think you are eating even more food, missy, you got fed so much while I was at class today,” you said, acting as if Irena could really understand you. You made your way to your door, nearly walking out before noticing a paper had fallen onto the ground near your desk. You picked it up, reading the headline, Casey Becker and Steve Orth- funerals to be held on Friday the 27th at 9-11 AM. You sighed and set it down on the other papers stacked on your desk.
You walked out of your room, heading downstairs “Irena! Come on, I wanna go to bed,” you whined out, calling the cat to your room. You found her in the living room, hiding under the couch and refusing to come to you. “Fine, I’ll leave you a blanket out and don’t you dare come scratching at my door at 3 AM,” you told her, going to the hallway closet to get a blanket out for her. Once you had gotten one, you spread it out across the couch for her and said goodnight.
You were about halfway to your room when your phone began to buzz, digging it out of your pocket and seeing your mom's number you quickly answered. “Hey, what's up? You guys heading back already,” You asked, continuing up to your room.
“Heading back? Who said I ever left?” A strange voice asked on the other line, making you pause for a moment as you moved to make sure it was your mom. “Listen asshole, I don’t have more than 15 dollars in my bank account so have fun with whatever hot cheetos and mountain dew you can get with that,” you said before hanging up on them, putting your phone back into your pocket. You were up the stairs now, deciding to use the bathroom before you went to bed for the night but before you could open the door your phone rang again. “Didn’t I already say I don’t have money? What the fuck do you want?” You asked angrily, “Irena, right? Like Irena Dubrovna? Who did you prefer, Simone or Natassja?” The same voice asked you, making you look down the stairs. Irena hadn’t moved yet and no one was around her, or at least from what you could see. “If you hurt my fucking cat I will personally cut off your balls and feed them to he-“ A laugh from the caller cut you off, “I don’t have fun with animals. I’m not Bundy or Dahmer, I like to see my victims, human victims…struggle.” You heard your parent's bedroom door open, letting out a scream before running into your room and slamming the door shut, locking it quickly before the person began to bang on it. You looked around, going to your window and trying to lift it open.
The door cracked, it was like the scene from the shining, except this killer bore a white mask, you recognized it from the Halloween store- father death. You struggled with the window again, before giving up and grabbing the lamp from your bedside table and throwing it at them. The killer moved out of the way before they were hit, pushing their body against the door once more and climbing in through the opening. You could see them fiddle with their knife as if they had held it in their hands a hundred times already and were skilled at fidgeting with it.
You grabbed a glass organizer from your desk, taking the scissors from it before chucking the holder at them. The papers you had stacked before scattered from the throw as they fell down. You rushed to the window as they struggled to get up but never heard them stand. When your head whipped around to check if they were behind you, you instead saw them looking at the papers around them.
Masked killer, Casey and Steve headlines, Maureen Prescott, Cotton Weary trials, even the cutouts you had of Sidney from court. You were obsessed. There were drawings, suspects lists, hell all these needed were red kiss marks and ‘please fuck me mr ghostface!’ written in pink glitter pen ink.
You stared wide-eyed at them when you saw their gaze now on you, their head cocked to the side as a laugh sounded from behind the mask. Just then you heard the sound of gravel being crushed around from the driveway, your parent's car was pulling in, you saw them getting out from your window. When you turned back you noticed the person was gone, you ran downstairs and met your parents at the door, crying and beginning to blubber on about what nearly happened.
#poly!ghostface#poly!ghostface x reader#billy loomis#stu macher#scream au#poly!ghostface x female reader#billy loomis x reader#stu macher x reader#scream x reader#scream
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tagging @onyanjune and @h0ly-l3mb for giving me the idea/motivation to do this lol
link to original post here
tw/cw: MDNI or you WILL be blocked, DDDNE, (skip for spoilers) yandere! reader, mentioned non/dub con, mentioned filming of said non/dubcon.
yan! cool kid has two siblings, your upperclassman and underclassman respectively. and it hella irritates him how close you are to the two.
ofc yan! reader’s intentions have and will always be depraved yearning. they only befriended the pair for the sake of “getting close to the in-laws.” after all you wouldn’t be a good future spouse if you weren’t somewhat involved in the family side of things.
but your tunnel vision sort of . . . backfired.
“quite a bunch of lunches you’re packing.” he mumbled, raising his head from his arms after a thorough nap through class. he had already studied everything that subject had to offer and thoroughly memorized it thanks to his notes that were covered in photos of you.
“oh these? these aren’t just for me, silly.” you answered. he already knew what you were planning, and you already knew that he knew, but keeping this façade of normalcy was a game you two liked to play, “you haven’t been bringing food to school recently i’ve noticed. so i made some more to share.”
“just one?”
you blinked at him, confused. laughing after you realize where his eyes were focused on. you explain that the rest will be going to his siblings, since you thought it may be a household / financial problem.
soon after that you took off, trying your best to hide the giddy feeling in your body threatening to spill unto your facial expressions.
yan! cool kid stares at his brand new lunch and wonders if you also cut out heart shaped potato for their curries, planning out ways to torture yan! loser later
yan! loser who’s yan! cool kid’s younger brother. they look so different, their demeanors even further apart. the only way you knew they were related was cause you stalked the latter on his way back home and almost killed the former before you found out.
you dropped by his class with a smile. his classmates staring at you with wide eyes as those in higher levels rarely ever go to this section of school.
“i hope you don’t mind, but i made lunch for you. is that okay?”
“is ThaT okAy?” he parroted back at you, his voice cracking, nerves on edge at all the people staring at the situation. he was going to eat lunch alone in the bathroom again like always but was occupied with erasing the marks left by his bullies on the table.
you laugh at his response, and set the lunch you prepared on his table.
you stare blankly at the brutal remarks written across. silently you walked outside before coming back with a spare table. you frown as the food you left remained untouched.
“you should eat first. lunch won’t last forever.”
you pat the poor boy’s back and left.
one last delivery til you were done.
you breathed in, knocking the door to the student council’s room. “mr. president, it’s me.”
“come in.”
yan! school president doesn’t even raise his head to look at you. his focus remaining on the papers in his hand and table. “leave the lunchbox there.” the bespectacled man points to your table in the room.
you set it down obediently and walked out. at least, you tried to until he stops you. “before you go, tell me why i shouldn’t report your actions to the faculty.”
you don’t turn around from the door, but still you answer, “hm, actions?”
“you, using school funds to pay for my youngest brother’s harassment.”
“…mmm…” you turned around, placing a hand on your chin in feigned deep thought “because . . . you love love love me?”
yan! president sighed. you hear paper shredding.
“you may go.”
you giggled. stepping outside of the stuffy room to go finally see your beloved again in class.
you put a hand in your pocket and fished out your phone. briefly smiling at the home screen wallpaper of yan! cool kid and quickly tapping out the password.
you then delete the video of yan! president tying you up as his unclothed hips slammed into yours. your skin covered in bites and slap marks all over. your eyes converging fear as tears fell and your mouth was gagged and unable to voice the feeling. the once prim and proper man man groaning in ecstasy and yelling words of degradation as he defiled you.
but you could only cringed at the words “i love you.” escaping his lips.
“a little reward for mercy i suppose.”
you stuff your phone back into your pocket. wondering if you should also warn him about the laxatives.
#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yandere fic#yancore#yandere core#tw yandere#yandere imagine#yandere blog#yandere concept#male yandere#yandere various x reader#yandere headcannons#yandere hcs#yandere hc#yandere x yandere#yandere oc#yandere ocs#yandere ocs x reader#yandere loser#yandere cool kid#yandere school president#yandere smut#yandere imagines
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— ˚₊‧⁺˖ THE LIGHTNING ON TRACK | SERIES MASTERLIST
CURRENTLY ON INDEFINITE HIATUS!!
you can check out my other writing on my ao3 <3
fandom. formula one & mcu
about. the first daughter of the stark family drives for their brand new team in formula one
pairing. none yet, all platonic (can be changed in the future)
content warnings. written in 3rd person, fem!reader, written and smau chapters, not edited/proofread
notes. welcome, welcome! i've seen so many reader!driver stories here so i decided to contribute :) as for now, i have no final destination with this story, but i do have some ideas i definitely want in. pls feel free to share your own ideas!!
ABOUT THE STARK RACING F1 TEAM.
the family. the team. the public opinion. the grid's reaction.
ABOUT THE PAST.
before the family. before formula one.
ABOUT THE PRESENT.
the 2025 season.
-> the livery launch. the strategy call. the pre-season testing. the wait for first race. the training. the interview.
the 2026 season.
ABOUT THE FUTURE.
ABOUT THE ALTERNATE UNIVERSES.
taglist. @lilypadlover , @adorablezhui , @peqch-pie , @keyz-writes , @obsidianjewel , @aimixx , @themercyverse , @lem-hhn , @akiraquote , @kiiyoooo , @nichmeddar , @nothingfuninthislife , @fionaschicken , @lyrasconstellation , @spideybv28 , @keii134 , @starssfall , @tpwkstiles , @fangirl-dot-com , @nichmeddar , @lady-laura-speaks , @nikfigueiredo , @hinamesgigantica , @brakingboundaries , @almostjollypizza , @yoremins , @raizelchrysanderoctavius , @celesteblack08 , @watermelon-sugars-things , @lighttsoutlewis , @radiantdanvers , @vellicora , @sterredem , @hiireadstuff , @jolixtreesunn , @mypage-myfandoms , @nelly187 @greeneyesandsunshine , @fulla02 , @welovediaaxx , @whyamireadingthis , @67-angelofthelordme-67 , @blueberry64857959 , @winchesterwife27 , @six-call , @skywalker1dream , @mellowarcadefun , @cherry-piee , @peterholland04 , @motorsportloverf1 , @renarots , @msbyjackal , @woozarts , @leclucklerc , @yl90
crossed off tags mean i can't tag you!
DO YOU WANT TO JOIN THE SERIES TAGLIST? please leave a comment on this post or send a non anonymous ask!
ARKHAM MAID 2024
#f1#f1 fanfic#f1 x you#f1 x reader#f1 female driver#fem!driver#fem!driver reader#female driver#f1 imagine#f1 fic#f1 smau#f1 social media au#f1 scenario#— ˚₊‧⁺˖ creations#— ˚₊‧⁺˖ lightning on track
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STRIKEOUT. ( PART 2 ) — KEN SATO x Male!Athlete READER
Summary: An after-party. A conversation-turned-confrontation. Kenji finally meets the esteemed Toyo Bullet and struggles to define the difference between anger, terror, and infatuation.
# # TAGS: Even More Tension, Kenji Has a Good Relationship with His Team, Intense First Encounter, Domestic Sato Family Shenanigans
# # WARNINGS: Mature Language, Alcohol Consumption, Nothing Too Crazy, No Beta Again We Die Like Onda
Note: Okay, here we go: the actual second part. Again, I am so sorry for accidentally publishing my draft earlier — I am ill with embarrassment. But I’m very happy to know that people look forward to it! If you read the false-post, then you’ve only read half of the chapter. This one has over 3000 words more! Enjoy.
“It was a nail-biter of a game here at the New Tokyo stadium tonight, folks. Right off the bat, both teams were going neck and neck, toe-to-toe. And it seemed like neither one was willing to give an inch! Our home team managed to pull off a narrow victory in the end, and by narrow, I mean narrow, Kiba.”
“That is absolutely right, Sasaki. I truly have never seen anything like it in my entire career. And you know- you know I know a lot of baseball. You know I’ve been doing this for many years, but wow! Just- insane.”
“Truly a close call. Eight additional innings? To break the tie? I cannot believe it. Let me tell you, neither the Hiroshima Toyo Carp nor the Yomiuri Giants wanted to lose today.”
“If you look at the crowd, It looks like everyone’s been wanting to go home.”
Exhausted was an understatement. Kenji hadn’t felt this drained after a game since, well, only months ago: when he was still juggling the responsibilities of raising a baby Kaiju, carrying the weight of being Ultraman, and maintaining his reputation as a well-known baseball player. All of these, on top of the sleepless nights, no longer hindered him from his work. He usually left the stadium feeling brand new every single time — regardless of whether they won or lost. He had grown and learned to lean on people, to ask for help, accept defeat. Which was good and all that, but the point was: he was exhausted from this game. You had him panting for air like an overworked dog.
Shimura had Kenji on the field for longer than he should have been. While his younger, more egotistical self might have loved his moment in the spotlight, running base to base for six innings in a row was unsurprisingly really tiring. The teams had hit a clean tie by the ninth inning, and the tie-breaker lasted for eight more. You were eating their rookies alive and having their journeymen for dessert. When Shimura realized that Sato was the only one batting your pitches, he had him play for every round after the tie. The only times Kenji wasn’t on the field was when you weren’t either. Which wasn’t a lot. It scared him how you looked like you could throw that ball for days.
“Hiroshima’s L/n is just- an absolute unit, isn’t he?”
“He certainly is, Kiba. He certainly is. I mean his performance was near inhuman tonight. Each pitch was a gem and we- he really wanted us to know that he’s here, he’s ready, and he’s willing to change Japanese baseball. He was a major force out there on the field.”
“I cannot agree with you more. But credit where credit is due, we all know that the only reason the Giants are coming home with tonight’s win is because of none other than Ken Sato himself.”
“That’s right, Sato really put up a fight. L/n was throwing him off balance every time, but he always found his footing. I think tonight might have been the hardest I’ve seen him work. You know he- he usually makes his plays look effortless — disregarding last season’s slump.”
“I say he held his own very, very impressively. The team was right to rely on him. I know we’ve spoken a lot about their tension, but I’d say it’s their dynamic that really drove the point home. They were like- mirrors of each other out there. When you put two equal forces together, they deflect. You know what I’m saying?”
Kenji’s hand shook with a weakness he wasn’t familiar with. He stared at his calloused palm and noticed his fingers twitching. Shit. It really was some game. He might have been hitting the ball, but he was barely getting it through the field. Not only were your pitches fast, but there was weight to them, too. He was witnessing the caliber of your capabilities; understanding why you were the talk of every city.
The rest of the Giants came walking into the locker room, jeering and laughing amongst themselves. “That L/n is a real piece of work, ain't he?” Shirakumo, number 24, sat himself next to Kenji, unlacing his shoe. “Never seen anything like it.”
“Did you see the look on Tateoka’s face?” Yuki laughed, smacking his thigh. “Dude was scared shitless!”
“Hey!” Tateoka frowned in reply, tugging his jersey off his arms. “You try standing in front of that guy and telling me you don't feel a little threatened.” He shuddered, remembering the look in your eyes. Dark and pointed and menacing. “He was staring me down like he was gonna—”
“Eat you alive?” Kenji scoffed.
The team went silent, then erupted into a cluster of teasing ‘oooh’s. God. It reminded him of highschool.
“Oohh, yeah.” Yamada, number 21, slid over to him with a teasing tone. He wrapped an arm around Kenji’s shoulder and squeezed him closer. “I don't think I've ever seen Sato so shaken!”
He laughed, playfully pushing him away. He was also actually really sore on that shoulder. Hell, he could already feel the pain he’d need to go through just to get up tomorrow. He was going to need another ice bath. The rest of the boys jumped in on the jokes.
“Did you see the way he was looking at you Ken?” Tokuda opened his locker, grabbing a shirt from the top shelf. He whistled. “Like he wanted your head on a plate.”
Tanaka chuckled. “He wanted you dead, man!”
Kenji rolled his eyes. “Alright, alright. Let's not get carried away. I never said I was shaken.”
“But that last bat was sweet as hell.” Yuki nodded. “I doubt any of us would've gotten through the guy if it weren't for Sato.”
“Well, duh.” Shirakumo shrugged. None of the Giants denied it. Ken was their star player. And tonight proved it more than ever. “We owe you for drinks, bud. Give us a date and we'll treat ya’ to someplace you like.” He slapped Ken’s back affectionately, which elicited a pained groan. “Shit, sorry.”
Kenji’s watch started beeping. He flinched at the sound, eyes widening slightly. “Uh, see you in a sec, guys. I gotta take this.”
He was there a moment, then gone the next. Kenji rushed himself out the hallways and into an empty locker room to answer Mina’s call. “Hey!” he greeted, anxiously. A screen projected itself from his watch and lit up his face. “Hey. Hi. What's wrong? Everyone alright? I know I said I'd be home soon, but the game took way longer than–”
He was interrupted by cheering. His father clapped and whooped with excitement as Emi occupied the background, screeching with glee. Kenji could see the ground shaking as she was jumping around and doing her special dance. One of Mina’s arms was protruding from the wall and waving celebratory flags. It immediately put a smile on his face, easing the tension from his shoulders. He was always happy to see everyone alright, and even happier to see them as their silly selves.
“Kenji!” cheered Hayao. “That was an incredible game! You were unstoppable!” The professor chuckled. Emi picked him up into a hug, slightly toppling the camera over. His legs swung like a ragdoll’s. “Okay, okay girl-”
Ken laughed, slightly shaking his head. “Easy, Emi. Put Grandpa down.”
“It was a very impressive game, Ken. Perhaps one of your bests.” Mina’s calculative yet affectionate voice echoed from his watch.
Hayao fell to the floor with an ‘oof’. “You didn't tell me you were playing against THEE Mets’ Bullet!” He scrambled to stand up, barely leaning on his cane. “I wasn’t even aware that he was signed into the Carp!”
Kenji’s smile immediately faded. “Okay.” He rolled his eyes. “He was alright, I guess. And we don’t actually know if he signed into it or if he was traded. We barely heard anything about him from the press.”
“Alright?” Professor Sato gasped, appalled. “Kenji, he was spectacular! He’s a lot like you, you know. I’ve always suspected that the both of you equalled in skill, but to see it in action? Phew.” He wiped some pretend sweat off of his forehead. “What a show! Eight extra innings to break a tie? Unbelievable! I highly doubt that he was traded. Who in their right mind would purposely lose a player like that?”
Kenji scoffed. “He wasn’t that good.” His sore limbs would like to say otherwise.
“He had you chasing after his pitches like a dog!”
“I don’t like that analogy.”
“I ought’ to rewatch that documentary they made about him. You know they’ve done studies on the physics of his throws.”
“Dad.”
“And how fortunate for Hiroshima to have gotten him out of all teams! I can tell that this season is going to turn around really fast. Just today he’s already scored-”
“Dad!”
“Oh. Sorry.” Hayao chuckled. “I’m just very excited to see the both of you on the same field.” Kenji sighed, nodding his head. “Anyway, congratulations on the win, my boy. I’m so proud of you. I always am. Get home safe. It may be late, but we still have a lot of leftovers from dinner!” Emi made a noise that let him know she was waiting, too.
Going home sounded like heaven. Ken wanted nothing more but to rest. Maybe kick back and have a chocolate shake while he and his family watched cartoons to fall asleep. It was the perfect way to end his night. It had been an unexpectedly long day and he looked forward to tomorrow’s well-earned break. Eight extra innings might even win him a second day of rest. Or a third, if Shimura agreed not to schedule him for the next game. Which, he doubted, if it meant you’d be playing.
“I’m on my way.” He ended the call, and opted to take the fastest way out, desperate to avoid the press.
Ken collapsed onto the floor, snuggling into Emi’s arm. Having washed up and eaten his dinner, he felt the last remains of his adrenaline-fueled strength die out like a dwindling flame. He felt as if his limbs were about to fall off. “Ugh,” he groaned. “I’m going to be so sore tomorrow.” Emi didn’t much care. She seemed to be preoccupied by the new ( gigantic ) stacking blocks that Mina made for her. Ken sighed, sinking deeper into her arm. “She always smells so good after her baths.” The baby Kaiju’s warm and heavy grasp felt like a weighted blanket. It was a comfort that Ken would find nowhere else.
Professor Sato walked past them, chuckling into his coffee mug. “That, she does. You should have seen her earlier, you know. I’ve never seen her so invested in a game.”
Kenji hummed. “Is that right?” He rolled onto his stomach, facing Emi. “Hey. Baby.” He poked her cheek. “Is that true? Did you cheer for Daddy? I bet you did.” Giving into his cuteness aggression he rubbed at her cheeks. Emi expressed her annoyance through a small squeak. “God, that mean old Bullet had Daddy running laps, didn’t he? We hate him, don’t we?” Kenji pushed her cheeks up and down, leading her into a nod. “Yes we dooo.”
Professor Sato laughed. “Whatever happened to sportsmanship?”
“Whatever happened to loyalty?” He pouted. “My own father, rooting against me. I would never root against you, Emi.” Wanting to return to her blocks, Emi lifted Kenji up by his torso and placed him on her head. The batter laughed, laying on her with no protest.
“What!” The professor exclaimed. “I never said I was rooting against you. I was just— feeling enthusiastic, that’s all. For both teams.”
Mina entered the room, her mechanisms humming faintly. “Good evening, everyone.” The Sato’s greeted her accordingly. “I have a message for Ken.”
The mentioned Ken slumped into his daughter, rolling his eyes. “Here we go. I bet it’s the press.” He scoffed. “Let me guess, at least 30 emails asking for my statement. Or, better yet, it’s Shimura warning me not to miss the next game.” He raised his fist, mocking a reporter’s tone: “We’ve witnessed baseball history tonight, folks! Blah, blah, blah.”
“Actually, it’s an invitation for something else.” Mina hovered closer. “An event.”
This caught his attention. Kenji tilted his head. “For what?”
“A party, hosted by various sponsors.”
“Bit too early for an afterparty, don’t you think?” Ken sighed, resting his head on folded arms. “We’ve only won one game.”
“I suppose it’s to celebrate Mr. L/n as well.” Mina would shrug if she had the shoulders to do so. “His coming to Japan is quite a big deal.”
“Great.” Kenji was half-asleep by then, eyes already closed. “All the more reason for me not to go.” The professor had settled himself onto one of the desks, getting into some light reading. Emi had grown tired herself, and decided that she was not interested in the blocks anymore. Waddling to her spot, (with Kenji still on her head), she yawned, and opted for some much-needed sleep.
Mina’s light blinked. “I think you should go, Ken.”
The rightfielder cracked one eye open. “And why would I do that?”
“I think it would benefit you to interact with Mr. L/n more.”
“Mina, that’s literally the last thing I want.”
“Is it?”
Ken frowned. “What do you mean, ‘is it’? Of course it is.”
“Your vitals seemed to say otherwise earlier.”
Kenji scoffed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I was keeping careful watch of your vitals, as I always do. I have your daily status tracked and recorded.”
Kenji couldn't get rid of Mina’s voice in his head. Even amidst the warm crowd, with chatter swaying smoothly atop of light r&b music, he felt as if he could still hear her words ringing in the back of his mind. It remained vivid, though she had told it to him days ago. It was as clear as day. Like a broken record.
“Believe it or not, the heart beats differently for every emotion. There is a difference between fear, anxiety, excitement, and—”
Kenji stared at you from across the room, watching as you conversed with your team, nursing a glass of cold, hard whiskey. He watched as you bowed your head and smiled, listening for the faint, muffled sound of your laughter. He wondered what you were talking about; what joke might have made you grin that hard. He wondered why you seemed to illuminate a room, and why everyone seemed so drawn. His eyes were caught in the way the colorful lights sank into your hair.
“—Infatuation.”
You looked up, and your eyes met his. Kenji flinched. He felt his heart skip a beat. Shit, he thought. Mina was definitely going to catch that. She had probably already marked it down to tease him for it later. You held his gaze for longer than he could have standed and greeted him with that same annoying wink. The same one you gave him on the field. Confident, snarky, playful. You lifted your glass and took a sip, eyes still trained on his.
“What you may perceive as frustration for him might just be the opposite.”
Kenji's jaw clenched. Mina had no idea what she was talking about.
And he would prove her wrong tonight.
Like a soldier marching into battle, he waded through the party to make his way towards you. Was he intimidated? Yes. Unfortunately, he was. But he knew his way around a crowd, and his weapon-of-a-tongue knew all the right talk to make a conversation work. He was sociable like that. He was a poet, a wordsmith. If you weren't careful, one little exchange could have you wrapped around his finger. Some people called it his charisma, some blamed it on his irresistible good looks. Either way, Ken took it. He wasn't going to deny the fact that people loved talking to him — though he, admittedly, didn't really like talking to them in return. But he could do it. He could make it work.
Besides, how bad could you be?
With a newfound confidence, Ken dared to get closer. The distance between you and him lessened, and– oh, fuck, was that your cologne? He blinked. You smelled so good. Why did you smell so good? “Hey. Hi.” Shit. Abort mission. No, it's too late. Too awkward to back out. You were already looking at him. “L/n, yeah?” He spoke your name like he only just remembered you upon seeing you. When in truth, he hadn't stopped thinking about you since that damn first pitch. “Some game, huh?” Ken held his hand out for you to shake. ‘Fuck, I hope he doesn't notice how clammy it is.’
“Ken Sato.” It was the first time he heard your voice, as well as the first time he heard you say his name. He didn't like how his body reacted. There was a small shiver down his spine, a tingling flutter in his chest. You took his hand. Yours was cold. So cold. Kenji concluded that the icy glass of whiskey you had placed on the counter was to blame. He could feel your callouses against his. Your hands mirrored one another, marked with the battlescars of your sport. He was oddly sensitive to every detail. Touching you was.. a sensation.
You gave him a firm shake before promptly letting go.
“That's me,” he said, miraculously. Ken was oscillating between panic and confidence at a speed that likely wasn't normal. He was holding his own, though. Like the real champ he was. It was surreal to be standing in front of you without a ball to keep you apart. No bat, no competition. Just you, and a few shots of alcohol. “You adjusting into Japan alright?”
“As well as I can.” You shrugged. You had a tone to you; an elegant air of grace and self-assurance. You had no need to raise your voice because you knew he'd do his best to listen. It was pissing him off. “It's definitely different from the States.”
“I gotta say, I'm pretty surprised to see you here.” Ken usually knew what to say when it came to conversations. He never blanked out at interviews, nor left dead air hanging at conferences. But speaking with you made him feel like his vocabulary was on a limit. “After a game like that?” He whistled. “A lesser man would've taken a week off.”
“But we're not lesser men, are we, Ken?” A waitress passed by. Without the need to look, you had grabbed two shots of vodka from her tray. You handed the other one to him. “That's why you're here, too.”
He stared at you, brows furrowed slightly. “Exactly.” He took the shot from your hand and bumped the rim against yours. “Cheers.”
You grinned. “Cheers.”
Kenji tilted his head back, downing his drink, tasting the fire run down his throat. His face screwed up a little, but not enough for you to notice. You did the same, sighing the heat out of your nose. You allowed a small laugh to slip past your lips. “Japan’s liquor is surprisingly stronger.”
Kenji chuckled. “Yeah. If you know where to look.” The music felt like it was growing louder. He leaned in to speak to you better. “You know, I can't believe this is the first time we're meeting.”
You nodded. “Neither can I.”
“The Mets and Dodgers have always been at each other's throats, and yet—”
“Our schedules just never lined up.” You scoffed. “What are the odds of that, huh?”
It really was such a coincidence. If Ken had known that your interactions would've fired the press up as much as it did now, he would've fought to face you sooner. “When was it?” He snapped his fingers, trying to remember. “Playoffs. 2019, I think. The Mets were set to face the Dodgers.”
“2019,” you repeated, brows raised. “I was there.” Kenji took notice of the way your head slightly shifted to the side. Like you were trying to get a better look at him. He swallowed thickly. “I was there.” You shrugged. “You weren't.”
“I was overseas.” He was wanting another drink. But, speaking to you was surprisingly not horrible. “Didn't get back until 3 months in. And when I did—”
“I wasn't there,” you chuckled. “Alright. I remember. 2019, I was gone for half the season. Injury.”
“The world was in shambles.” Ken grinned at you. A second waiter passed by. He grabbed you another glass of whiskey. He took scotch for himself. “See what I mean? It's like– divine intervention.”
“Big word.” To say that fate had a hand to play in yours and his meeting was beyond your beliefs. You didn't place your trust in things like that. But to know that he had thought about it was charming.
“Hey.” Ken shrugged. “Ya’ never know.”
The music shifted, and so did the lights. There was a moment of quiet between the both of you, and in that time, you found a common interest in people-watching. It wasn't an uncomfortable silence, nor the absence of something to talk about. The two of you merely agreed upon the minutes it took to watch the party unfold. A good number of the guests were already drunk. The dance floor was alight and occupied mostly by women. Ken rested his weight on one foot, sighing at his still-aching muscles. He wondered if you were any sore too.
“They love it, don't they?” You leaned your back against the counter, arms crossed over your chest. Ken took quick notice of the necklace worn loosely around your neck. A silver dogtag, similar to his. “The drama. The intensity. Even the things that go on beyond the field.”
Ken shrugged. “It's baseball. Who doesn't?”
“Exactly.” You smiled. “Which is why it's important to always let the home team win the first game.”
It took a moment for Kenji to process what you said. He was distracted by the colorful lights, his favorite song coming on, and a tray full of hors d'oeuvres. “Mhm.” He reached over to take one, before— “Wait.” His brows knitted together. “I'm sorry, what?”
“Hm?” You had your lips pressed together into a thin line. Your expression feigned innocence, a stark contrast to your bold statement. “I said it's important to let the home team win the first game.”
Kenji made a sound between a scoff and a laugh. He couldn't believe his ears. Had he been standing by the speakers for too long? “No, I heard what you said. What I'm asking is what you're saying.” It was a dare of a reply, with a tone that commanded: go on. Clarify.
Your smile refused to leave your face. Nearing the batter, ever so carefully, you whispered:
“I'm saying you won because I let you.”
Kenji blinked.
And there it was. He knew you were too good to be true. Goddammit, he knew it! Beneath your seemingly-perfect self was something cold and rotten and he called it. He fucking called it. How thrilled he was to be correct, and oh, how utterly terrified.
But this was good. This was absolutely good. He needed something to hold onto, something to keep himself afloat. The next time he found himself drowning in your eyes again, he'd only need to remember that you were a grade A asshole. That you had the audacity to claim that you were in full control of the game. Surely it would solve all his problems.
Kenji broke out into a laugh. It started out as a small cluster of sarcastic chuckles, but erupted into actual laughter. You were funny. So, so funny. Unbeknownst him, you were watching with amusement. “Because you let me!” Kenji repeated, smiling, but, exasperated. Two can play at that game. “Right. Of course. Totally not because you're an average pitcher and I can bat anything you throw.”
“If that helps you sleep at night.” You shrugged. Your attention wasn't on him anymore. You were watching the crowd, disinterested.
Kenji felt his eye twitch. “That's big talk coming from someone who got struck out by a rookie.” He was referring to the eighth inning, when Tateoka managed to bat your pitch into a homerun.
“That's right, Sato.” You laughed, low and sultry. “Batted by a rookie. How could I have struck you out at the last inning but be batted by a rookie?” You tilted your head at him, brows knitted together. You spoke in a sickeningly soft tone. Like you were helping a toddler understand something simple. “Doesn't seem to make a lot of sense, does it?”
Kenji was growing flustered. His face was warm and his fist was itching to meet your cheek. Nobody spoke to him this way. Sure guys had been mean to him before, but it was mostly because they were threatened by him. They'd tried to put him down and pick apart his flaws, but what you were doing was something different. You weren't claiming that he was weak, you were claiming that you were stronger. You didn't deny the amount of talent that Ken had in his body, but you were fully convinced that you had more. You were bigger, smarter, and better. And you had him under your control.
“Oh, c’mon. Seriously?” God, your voice. It infuriated him. It drove him insane. You leaned in, closer, whispering your words, as if hearing you through the party wasn't hard enough. He could smell the whiskey on your breath. It mingled with your cologne. It was intoxicating. “Are you blushing?”
He scoffed in disbelief. “No.” Except he totally was. He could feel the heat radiating off of his face. His breathing had gone shallow, his heartbeat rapid. “Why would I– Tch. You— You don't know what you're talking about.” Holy shit. He was a mess.
He wanted so desperately to blame it on the alcohol, but he knew damn well he wasn't drunk enough to be acting the way he was. He was stumbling over his words stone-cold sober.
You were smiling. He was dying, and you were smiling. “You amuse me, Sato.”
Ken took a cautious step back, knowing that being that close to you for too long was only going to make him worse. “Who the hell do you think you are, huh?” He had to retaliate somehow. Like a soldier fumbling for his sword, he had to get up and do something. “You don't think I don't know what this is? Where you're heading?”
You tilted your head. “Do enlighten me.”
He wrinkled his nose. “Sure. Celebrity-Athlete from America waltzes into Japan thinking he's the shit— that he can rule the world. He's a shiny new toy and everyone's just dying to catch a look. Nevermind that his old team traded him off, nevermind that he goes home to an empty penthouse. He's got the stats to prove his skills and he thinks he doesn't need anything else.” Ken dared to retake a step forward. He sort of regretted it when you didn't take a step back. “Well, guess what,” he continued. “I've been where you are. I know how you feel, what you're thinking.
Everything you're trying to be is a shadow of what I already was.”
There was a beat of silence. You weren't smiling anymore. You were staring at him, stone-faced, seemingly indifferent.
Kenji narrowed his eyes. “So don't go talking to me like you're any better.”
He didn't know what to expect. You were quiet for such a long time that he thought you were going to snap. He partially expected a punch to the chin. But you were calm. There wasn't a trace of irritation on your face. Instead, you set your glass of whiskey — now empty — on the counter behind you. With a sigh, you shoved a hand in your pocket. “Are you done?”
Kenji blinked.
“Let me tell you something, Sato.” You raised a brow at him. Ken felt his heartbeat pick up again. Your once-approachable gaze shifted into something cold and commanding. He swallowed thickly. “There is a difference between you and me. And that difference is the fact that I don't settle.”
Kenji was glaring at you, brows fixed together.
A teammate called you from the other side of the room. You nodded at him, once, then returned your focus to the Yomiuri Prince. You placed a hand on his shoulder, tauntingly, smiling at him as if you'd known him your whole life. “I hope last season’s slump accustomed you to the feeling of losing those points.”
Kenji wanted to say something, but his lips refused to move. Somehow, the blaring music in the background had faded into a muffled blur. All he could hear was your voice. Like a moth to a flame.
You winked at him. Again. And like before, his body reacted in ways he didn't like. You squeezed his shoulder once, before leaving to go to your friend. With your back turned against him, Kenji released the breath he didn't realize he was holding. He clutched his chest, watching wide-eyed as you moved through the crowd. He could still smell your cologne. The last thing he heard from you was,
“I'll see you on the field.”
taglist: @fairy-lenaa @moonjellyfishie @witchygod — Thank you for your patience!
#kenji sato#ken sato x reader#x reader#ultraman rising#ken sato x male reader#kenji sato x male reader
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Okay, you still have a spot. Great. I thought they'd be filled so, I didn't send anything lmao. Insomnia has its perks.
This is deeply self-indulgent and I'd love more Hao from you. So, hear me out, Minghao with a breeding kink. I feel like it doesn't get enough attention especially given how much that man gravitates towards babies lol. Like he and Reader visit Cheol's and see him with his new baby and, Hao's like oh, wait a minute. I think this is making me feel some type of way.
— terrified ⟢
minghao has a knack for keeping the things you tell him in mind. from your favorite brand of wine to how the idea of bearing children terrifies you—he remembers all of it. so your husband is in a bit of a crisis when he realizes that this newfound desire to start a family kind of clashes with something you trusted him to respect.
★ FEATURING; minghao x f!reader
★ WORD COUNT; 4.4k words
★ TAGS; idolverse, established relationship, hao trying (and failing) to play it cool about the wanting-to-be-a-father thing, brief discussion abt family planning, this is only a little sad bc hao has overthinkeritis, smut (MINORS DNI!)
★ WARNINGS; mentions of pregnancy and childbirth but nothing too graphic
★ NOTES; i scheduled to post this when it hit exactly 12 midnight in rj's timezone just in time for her birthday :> (pls look away if i got the schedule wrong,,,) i'm not really back yet bcs this is a queued post, but happy birthday, beloved. i love you more than i can say directly, so i decided to just write a fic for you instead! hopefully, i can come back and torment you with every other seventeen member BUT cheol soon :3c
★ SMUT TAGS; unprotected sex, breeding kink, creampie, multiple rounds, mating press, hao is just really feral in this yk
★ PERMANENT TAGLIST; @cheolhub - @pretty-trustme - @just-here-to-read-01 - @idkmelkro - @dejavernon - @venusrae - @jyiiscool - @jiniesclub - @junhui-recs - @bldelaine - @featmia - @fruitzcup - @hoeforhao - @candidupped - @billboard-singer - @caratochan - @novalpha - @dahliatopia - @0717luv - @shiveringgaze - @toruro - @mixling-blog - @minnie-mouser22 - @homerunhansol - @mirtaspace - @ti--red - @zzucculent - @woozarts - @rubyreduji - @mozellerra - @lllucere - @cheolzip - @jjjzzzz - @lissiesykes - @dearjeonwonwoo - @meowmeowminnie - @colored-confetti - @partiallyinfluencial - @speaknowlwt - @flwrshwa - @lilylikesthat - @aurorahongg - @whippedforjihoon - @todorokiskitten - @immabecreepin - @98-0603 - @peachhiz
★ MINGHAO TAGLIST; @haoxiaoba - @jeonride - @coffeestay - @hyvnae
In the height of his career as an idol, Xu Minghao filmed a certain piece of content where he was asked a normal question to which he responded with a slightly controversial answer.
"How many kids do you want in the future?"
"Oh, It's not me who'll give birth, so I can't be the one to decide."
It's a response that made waves on the Internet during the week the video was first posted—a reaction from both fans and casual netizens alike that Minghao definitely did not anticipate that he would receive when they packed up the set several months prior.
It's pretty much the logical answer, isn't it? Sure, he'd love to have kids someday, but the quantity isn't something he should decide on without his non-existent partner's input.
Minghao learns further down the road, when he finally meets and eventually gets together with you, that the number of children isn't the only thing that a couple should mutually agree on.
"I don't really want to have kids..."
You tell him this during a spontaneous date he deigned to take you out on. He just came back from a tour packed with a long list of stops and even if he should probably catch up on some sleep, he opted to have a picnic with you at the park because of how much he missed you.
Your cheeks are stuffed with a few bites of pie, thoughtfully chewing as you wait for Minghao's response to your sudden confession. If he didn't know you as well as he does, he wouldn't have sensed the waves of anxiety rolling off of you in waves—as if you're waiting for him to get mad at you for simply being honest.
Mingao heaves a quiet sigh before he pulls you into his chest—a tiny squeak caught in your throat after swallowing your food.
"Hey, that doesn't make me love you any less," he murmurs, pressing his lips on top of your head. "I know bearing children can be terrifying and painful, so I completely understand."
For a moment, your brow dips, a soft frown tugging at your lips. "I-It's not that I'm terrified... Okay, maybe a little. But—"
Minghao promptly silences your protests with a firm kiss on your lips—one that you find yourself easily melting into given the time and distance that's separated you until this moment. He smiles against your mouth, glad that you can be honest with him about things like this.
"No buts, if you don't want to have kids, that's alright," he murmurs before pulling away. "Maybe we can just get a dog. You're already close with Mingyu, aren't you?"
That makes you snicker. "You're so mean."
It's a brief exchange that Minghao doesn't really think about again for several years. After all, his career as an idol was at an all-time high. As much as he wants to settle down with you and start the next phase of his life, he's certain that he shouldn't step out of the limelight just yet.
But it doesn't take long for time to catch up with him.
One by one, his brothers are off to fulfill their mandatory service and the group's activities are at a momentary standstill. Those who were left behind go their separate ways for a while—Joshua expanding his solo promotions in the US and Jun taking up more brand sponsorships in China.
Minghao chose to stay in Seoul mostly for your sake, and the fact that this city is the only common ground between him and the rest of the boys. When Vernon and Seungkwan enlisted together, it was around the time that Seungcheol and Jeonghan came back with overgrown buzzcuts, while Joshua landed in Incheon for the first time in two years.
It was also the time when you and Minghao got married.
The event was celebrated among close friends and family with only a brief news article about the marriage of SEVENTEEN's The8 allowed by the company to circulate for a while. They did a good job at keeping things hush hush, and Minghao thinks it's only because it's been more than a decade since his debut that they're being so lenient.
But even if they weren't, nothing would stop Xu Minghao from making you his wife either way.
It takes a few more years for all thirteen of them to get back together again, but when they do, the first thing that Seungcheol does is invite everybody to his daughter's first birthday.
Minghao has met baby Suri a handful of times in the past. Seungcheol's wife visits them at the company from time to time, wheeling Suri's stroller into the practice room as her uncles all fawn over her until she's crying. For some reason, the only people the infant seems to tolerate are Jun and Seokmin.
It's pretty much the same scene during the party. Seokmin and Jun are the only ones allowed within a one-meter radius from Seungcheol's baby girl to prevent an incurable crying episode in the middle of the celebration. Soonyoung was not happy with the fact that he can't personally give Suri the little tiger plush he got for her, but Minghao thinks it's for the best.
But then, as everyone was finishing up with dinner, he saw you walk up to Seungcheol's wife with a familiar sparkle in your eyes. You're staring at Suri who's all dressed up for her party with a look of endearment—nearly gushing with how animatedly you're speaking with her mother.
Minghao doesn't think much of it. You and her have always gotten along for as long as he can remember.
What does catch him completely off-guard, however, is the fact that Suri is being handed into your arms and you let it all happen without much of a fuss.
Chan was in the middle of telling him about this martial arts move that he'd wanted to choreograph into a dance but as much as he wants to give the younger man advice, his gaze is completely glued to the sight of you with Suri in cradled against your chest.
It's one thing to see a woman holding a baby. It's another to see his wife do the same thing.
"Hao, look!" You quickly call him over when you catch his eyes in the crowd. "Suri thinks I'm worthy! It's been five minutes since her mom handed her over and she's still not crying."
The sight is so adorable that Minghao abruptly excuses himself from his conversation with Chan to rush towards you with clipped strides. His heart thunders inside his chest as you visibly dote on Seungcheol's daughter, and he isn't sure if he wants to give the feeling a name.
It eventually fades into a barely there throb in his chest when he drives back home for the evening. You quickly fill the silence with your attempts at looking at some properties in this newly opened residential area near the freeway and as always, your husband lends a willing ear.
"It's a little far from your company building, but it's much more spacious than our apartment right now," you chuckle, face alight with the glow of your screen as you scroll through the property's details on your phone.
Minghao hums before pulling over at a red light. "Hm? Isn't our place alright as it is? Why would we need the extra space?"
He half-expected you to answer with something along the lines of, so I can have more space to keep my book collection in or so you can have enough room to practice at home if you want to.
But all you do is let out an uneasy laugh, locking your phone before depositing it in the cupholder on the middle console.
"Y-Yeah, you're right. That was a bit silly of me."
The next time Minghao unwittingly makes the connection with you and the prospect of having kids is when Seungkwan's nephews are in Seoul for a couple of weeks.
While he and his sister are off to run errands every now and again, they typically ask Jun to watch over the kids because out of all the members, he's definitely the only one who can be trusted around children. Even more than those who are actual fathers.
But it just so happens that Jun is all the way in Shanghai to shoot for a historical drama, and for some reason, Seungkwan thought it would be a good idea to drop his nephews off at Minghao's doorstep.
"You're pretty decent with kids and your wife can take care of anything," Seungkwan praises while he ushers four year-old Hanjun into the room and eight month-old Jiren into your arms. "We'll be back for them after lunch!"
It's just as Seungkwan said though: Minghao is pretty decent with kids and you can take care of anything.
While waiting for lunch to cook in the kitchen, you both do your part in entertaining the children—Minghao pointing out different shapes and animals in the picture book from Hanjun's backpack while you quietly feed Jiren the baby formula that Seungkwan's sister prepared in advance.
So distracted with the sight of your soft gaze transfixed on the baby in your arms, Minghao barely notices it when the soup he's prepared starts to overflow from the pot. You scold him for being so distracted before he shuffles into the kitchen with his tail between his legs.
As he salvages what's left of the soup, Minghao tries to pull himself together. Sure, it's been a few years since you two tied the knot, but you made it clear years ago that children wasn't on the table when it comes to the two of you.
It's something that you both agreed on even before marriage, and Minghao isn't about to break your trust by saying he suddenly wants kids all because seeing them in your arms makes his brain short-circuit. He has more tact than that.
"Is it just me or are you acting a little weird?"
For some reason, you choose later that evening to corner him in the quiet of your bedroom. Minghao was just getting ready to sleep when you turned to face him with a frown.
"Weird how?" he wonders, praying that you wouldn't single him out like you probably will.
"I don't know, you were looking at me funny when I was giving Jiren his formula," you point out. "You only do that when you want something from me."
Your words make him sigh. Of course his wife would catch onto every nuance of his actions—even from his stare alone.
"And what do you think it is that I want?"
"Xu Minghao, we're already married. Cut the games and just tell me what's on your mind."
God, he really couldn't love you any more than he does now.
It takes several minutes, but you and your husband eventually migrate to the living room—cups of hot chocolate in hand as you patiently wait for Minghao to open up about something he's been keeping to himself for a while now.
He's rightfully nervous—hands clammy around the ceramic of the mug that matches yours. It's Game of Thrones-themed with a dragon's neck acting as a handle. You kept insisting at the souvenir shop that its selling point was the unique design, but Minghao was pretty sure you were excited by the fact that the printed text changes color depending on the drink's temperature.
With that memory suddenly drifting into his mind, the tension ebbs from his shoulders. Though he tends to forget, you're the last person who'll condemn him for what he's about to say to you.
"I've been thinking of starting a family with you," he admits—hitting his point straight to the roots. "But... I always brushed it aside because I know how you feel about kids. I don't want to force you into something you don't want."
It's in times like this where silence is more deafening than actual noise. It rings in Minghao's ears as you watch the steam rise from your mug and your husband lets himself stew in his anticipation, wondering how you'll choose to respond to his honesty.
Will you laugh at him? Will you be angry with him? It's a subject that the two of you rarely broach with each other, so he isn't quite sure how to handle whatever reaction you'll grace him with.
What Minghao never would've expected, however, is for you to crack him a relieved smile.
"Me? I thought you didn't want kids because having one would be detrimental to your career," you chuckle, taking the first few sips from your hot chocolate. "And you always kinda shrugged it off whenever I tried to ease the topic into the conversation."
"I did?" Your husband scowls. "When did I do that?"
"After Suri's birthday party? When I was showing you a couple of new houses?"
Oh. Oh.
"Shit," Minghao mutters, embarrassed. "I almost forgot about that. I'm sorry, love. It didn't occur to me because you said that you didn't want to have kids—"
"One time," you interject with a groan. "That was one time, Hao. God, can't a woman change her mind about wanting kids with her husband?"
He blinks. "But you said you'd be terrified."
"No, you said I'd be terrified. As an educated guess and to some extent, you're right. But it's not the having-a-kid part or the childbirth part that terrifies me, Hao." You let yourself breathe for a couple of seconds and it comes out shaky. Minghao has to resist the urge to reach out to embrace you.
"What terrifies me is becoming a mother."
The silence of the living room thickens when you say the words and Minghao feels his chest flutter with that same feeling from the first time he saw you cradling Seungcheol's daughter in your arms. Despite the questions swimming inside his head, your husband keeps his silence and lets you continue.
"Like, yeah, the pregnancy is going to be hell and god knows whether I'll even be alive after giving birth, but..." You hesitate, refusing to meet Minghao's eyes for reasons that elude him.
"Raising a child so they would grow up to become a good person is even more daunting to me... What if I accidentally teach them something wrong? What if they end up hating me because I can't keep up with whatever trends kids would come up with in a few years? What if they love you more than they love me?"
Minghao laughs airily. "Is that last part really a necessary measure?"
"It is," you insist before breathing out a laugh of your own. "Urgh, you get the point! It's just that... I'm not against having kids, but the responsibility that comes with raising one overwhelms me whenever I think about it."
"You know you're not in it alone, right? I'm your husband. Of course I'll be here to support you however I can," Minghao sighs before finishing the rest of his drink. "Whether you want kids or not, I'll go with either choice because I want what you want, yeah?"
"Yeah. I do know that. I think I've always known, but at the same time, I didn't want to tie you down," you murmur, tracing the handle of your mug with a small pout. "If we have a kid together, they might take up the time meant for your schedules. I never want to burden you like that..."
Your husband sets down his mug on the coffee table, carding his fingers through his hair with a disbelieving sigh. You were starting to fear that you might've annoyed him by accident, but when Minghao leans closer so that your eyes are leveled, you realize that is far from the case.
"Baby, our wedding rings are literally tattoos," he reminds you while reaching for your hand—pressing the inked fingers together. "I'm as tied down as I can be and you've never heard a peep out of me after all this time, yeah? So don't you ever think you or our future kids would be burdens to me."
Playfully, you raise an eyebrow at him. "Kids? Plural?"
"Hey, like I said—"
"Yeah, yeah, you want what I want," you interrupt with a roll of your eyes. "I get it Hao, you're a gentleman. But what if I told you I want you to fuck me on this couch right now and give me your kids?"
The wording is so crass that it could only be seen as a joke, except the reaction it incites from Minghao is leagues more intense than a mere joke would. The mental image injects a rush of corrosive want straight into his bloodstream and Minghao swears it makes him a little lightheaded.
Your husband lets out a shuddering sigh. quickly lunging after you to pluck the mug out of your grasp and safely place it on top of the coffee table. When you look up at him so prettily as he cages you on the couch, the sight makes his cock twitch with anticipation.
"Then I want that, too."
Logically speaking, you and Minghao can't just flip the switch and go into full babymaking mode after a heartfelt conversation and a bunch of impulsive decisions.
For one, you were still on birth control. It would take some time to wean yourself off it and you'd have to ask your doctor if it was safe to stop taking the pills at this point in your life.
Next was that Minghao and the rest of the guys are going to be preoccupied with their latest album—one where all thirteen men are back together after years of being separated. It'll go on for a couple of months and maybe a year if he's going to take their tour schedules into account.
And because he doesn't want to be absent in any milestone during your hypothesized child's life, you and your husband mutually decided not to actively try for a kid just yet.
But that doesn't mean you can't pretend.
"Fuck, baby, your cunt's gripping me so tight," Minghao groans, nearly hissing as he slides his cock against the velvety heat of your walls. "You want my load in you, pretty? You want to me to pump you full until it's dripping out of your pretty pussy?"
With coherence having long left your mind, you arch your back even higher as your husband continues to plough you into the mattress. "Y-Yes, yes yes! Hao, feels s-so fucking good!"
He chortles quietly and even with your cheek pressed against the sheets, you can still picture the smirk plastered on his face. "Pretty baby's in love with my cock. You just can't get enough of me, can you?"
"More," you whimper, the muscles of your pussy tightening around his length as he plunges in and out of your sopping entrance. "W-Want more, Hao. Need you to fuck me harder..."
Your husband is quick to comply with your wishes, gathering your hair with one hand while keeping your hips in place with the other. Minghao slams his hips brutally against yours, making stars dance in the seams of your vision as the head of his fat cock bullies its way into your leaking hole.
He's so deep, you can feel him prying your cervix open with a promise that you'll be filled to the brim if you behave tonight. And with all those years of being a professional dancer under his belt, it's no surprise that he's got enough stamina to wreck you more times than you can handle.
The first orgasm blindsides you completely. He'd just been whispering both sweet and filthy nothings into your ear when it washes over you like a tidal wave—inevitable, inescapable.
(Doing so fucking good for me, love. Taking my cock like a good, good wife. You'll take my cum just as well, won't you? Keep it inside so it'll take and you'll be swollen with my child. Then everybody will know you're mine.)
The second time it happens is mere seconds after Minghao's own orgasm. His thrusts have started to lose their practiced cadence and even if you've been in this situation countless times before, the euphoria that sings in your veins makes it feel like the first time all over again.
Minghao's cock twitches before his cum spurts in thick ropes inside your tight cunt—filling you with a warm sensation that has you biting down his neck to stifle your moans. The motion of his hips slows to a crawl as Minghao feels you clamp down on his length. Your pussy gushes around him with a delicious grip that brings him dangerously close to another orgasm with how good you feel around him.
"Fuck, baby," he swears, voice still hoarse with need despite the fact that he's fucking you into overflowing. "I love you. There's no one else I'd want to have a family with."
"T-There better not be," you say cheekily before Minghao is flipping you around so that you're lying on your back. The sensation of his cum dripping out of your ruined pussy makes your skin tingle with excitement, and the fact that his ravenous gaze is trained on your body isn't lost on you.
"Be a good wife for me and hold your thighs up," he whispers lowly and it takes you mere seconds to comply. "That's my girl."
You preen at his praise—no matter how pathetic it would make you seem. After all, if there's anyone who get reduced you into a cockdrunk mess, it's most certainly your husband.
Minghao doesn't waste any more time, he pumps his cock into full hardness for a few moments—refractory period be damned—before gliding the head of his cock against your slit. Your thighs twitch every time be brushes against your clit, making you cry out with desperation as he gloats at your misery.
"Minghao," you beg, trying your best to hold your thighs up just like he asked all while he's taking his sweet time admiring your pussy. "Fuck me more. Want you to fill me up even more."
"Needy little thing," he chuckles. "You want my kids that badly? If I fuck you too much, you might actually get pregnant, love."
"Don't care," you practically sob. "I want it. I want you. All of you—even your kids."
Fuck. He really, really fucking loves you.
Minghao needs little encouragement after that, gripping his cock tightly as he guides himself back inside you.
The new position makes it easier for your husband to pound into you—the weight of his thrusts pressing you into the bed with enough intensity to make the wooden enforcements of your bed groan from the effort he's exerting. He splits you open on his cock, spreading your folded thighs as far as he can as he drills inside of you with the promise of another load.
"So pretty and pliant for me," he whispers, pressing a soft kiss on your nose all while the squelch of your cunt with each pass of his cock echoes in the bedroom. "My perfect wife. You'll let me breed this pussy once all's said and done, won't you?"
You nod all too eagerly. "Yes, Hao! I'll let you use my pussy however you want. Just please make me come again!"
"So demanding," your husband sighs with a wicked smile as one of his hands trails between your legs. "Hold those thighs nice and open for me, love. You'll feel even better soon."
"W-Wait, I—"
Your protests quickly melt into a hiss of pleasure when Minghao applies ample pressure on your clit—lathering his fingers with your slick before tracing tight circles around the sensitive nub.
He knows you so well, been with you for so long, that Minghao already knows the ins and outs of your body. Your husband claims that making you come undone with his own fingers is a practiced art and that he'll never forget about it until the day he does.
So it's no surprise how quickly Minghao manages to make you unravel at the seams when he couples his intense thrusts with the added stimulus to your clit. You're creaming around his cock in no time—muffling your cries in the crook of your lover's neck as he fucks into you with the intention of filling you up even more.
"I love you," Minghao rasps as he tucks your head beneath his chin, pinpointing the height of his own pleasure. "I'll want no one else but you, baby. No one."
Shakily, through a haze of delirium, you manage to say, "I-I love you too, Hao. I'll always be yours as long as—f-fuck—you'll always be mine."
You twitch violently beneath the weight of Minghao's body and the sight of you so fucked dumb on his cock eventually pushes him over the edge. Your husband comes with a sharp breath, his white hot cum gushing into your pussy until it drips onto the sheets.
It's only when you've come down from that post-coital high that you realize Minghao is looking at you as if you hung up all the stars in the sky. You respond with a weak smack against his chest.
"Don't look at me like that," you grumble weakly. "I might think you're in love with me."
"Y/N, we're already married."
"I don't see how that's a problem."
As Minghao does the honors of cleaning you up after roughing you up all evening, you quickly realize that, really, there's no reason to be terrified at all.
Not when your husband will be by your side every step of the way.
⟢ end notes: i wrote this in a haze so if there are any technical writing errors, i implore you to just ignore them for my sake <3 happy birthday again to my soulmate, rj! i hope you enjoy your day to the fullest and i also hope you like this gift i wrote for you hehe ^\\\^ like hao to the reader, i'll always be w you every step of the way (i'm just a lil busy rn, so i hope you forgive me !!)
#seventeen smut#the8 smut#minghao smut#svthub#minghao x reader#seventeen fanfic#the8 x reader#full length fic 📚#lovelyhan#💭 request#💘 mutuals#rj 🍷#q: i always need queue 🐇
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PERSEPHONE — ryomen sukuna x female reader [chapter 2]
summary: ryomen sukuna, ruthless tycoon of the alcohol industry, is used to crushing rivals. but when his former meek secretary walks into his office as his newest competitor, he’s blindsided. you’ve transformed into a powerful force, ready to go head-to-head in a high-stakes battle for dominance. as tension rises between you — both in business and something far more dangerous — sukuna realizes this fight might cost him more than just his empire.
content warnings & tags: enemies to lovers, modern au, business tycoon sukuna, angst, slow-burn, mentions of other jujutsu kaisen characters (suguru geto, choso kamo, uraume, yuuji itadori), mentions of sickness [puking due to alcohol consumption + past trauma] - this takes place in the same universe as my upcoming salaryman!choso fanfic
word count: 9.9k words
notes: thank you all so much for the positive response for our darling business tycoon sukuna, i'm beyond grateful. as i said, this will be a very slow-burn fic. i realistically have not planned out how many chapters i'm gonna write [ridiculous, i know] but i will make a masterlist soon! keep your eye out for that. and please, enjoy.
masterlist
this was a new low, even for sukuna. it felt like the earth had swallowed him whole, leaving nothing but his pride to choke on.
how the hell did i end up here? he thought bitterly, staring at yuuji, his fresh-out-of-high-school little brother, who was now sitting in his plush office chair, twirling a pen like it was the most exciting thing in the world. having yuuji be my intern as a marketing strategist... the words tasted like bile in his mouth. it wasn’t that his business was struggling — far from it — but the “experts” had insisted that “gen-z knows gen-z the best” and that ryomen’s brand needed a fresh perspective to appeal to younger audiences. a whole load of crap, but sukuna had grudgingly agreed.
and of all people, yuuji was the one sitting across from him, smiling like a kid who just found out he could have dessert before dinner.
“you get my range rover for the time you’re here, and an extra week to stay at the miami penthouse. deal?” sukuna offered with a grumble, the words almost painful to say.
yuuji, without missing a beat, grinned. “you strike a hard bargain, but i agree.”
“range rover with a chauffeur!” sukuna barked. “you are not taking that damn thing out by yourself —”
“can’t hear you!” yuuji sang out as he already started texting his friends, probably to brag about his temporary ride.
is this my life now? sukuna thought, eyes narrowing at his brother. the contrast between them was maddening. how did they look so alike yet end up so different? sukuna, a figure of intimidating presence and silent power, versus yuuji, the golden retriever of the family, bouncing off walls with enthusiasm that never seemed to dwindle. it was exhausting.
yet... sukuna sighed inwardly. it felt right. as weird as it was to turn to his younger brother for advice on how to steer his multi-million dollar company toward the hearts of gen-z, there was an unspoken reason behind this move. sukuna wouldn’t admit it out loud — not to anyone — but this was a veiled excuse to spend more time with yuuji. i want to see him grow up before it’s too late... before i miss out on everything.
the conversation replayed in sukuna’s mind, the phone call that had set this whole thing into motion. he remembered dialing choso’s number that monday night, pacing in his study like he had something far more important to discuss than the simple request he was about to make.
“what’s up?” choso’s familiar, calm voice answered, and sukuna could practically hear the eyebrow raise on the other side of the line. no doubt he knows something’s up...
“is the brat free?” sukuna asked, cutting straight to the point, though his tone held a gruffness that masked the underlying hesitation.
“you mean yuuji?” choso sounded amused. “yeah, he’s around. why? you finally listening to my advice?”
sukuna clenched his jaw. damn choso and his know-it-all attitude. “just tell me if he’s coming or not,” sukuna snapped. “i’ll have him picked up.”
there was a pause, and then choso chuckled, a low sound that grated sukuna’s nerves. “you’re really doing it, huh? alright. he’ll be there.”
sukuna grunted a reply and ended the call before choso could get in another word. the weight of that decision settled on him as soon as the line went dead. what am i doing? he thought, pinching the bridge of his nose. he had run away from all that domestic crap years ago, leaving choso with the burden of raising yuuji while sukuna carved out his empire. now he was dragging his baby brother into the corporate world, hoping for... what? a way to reconnect? maybe. maybe even to prove to himself that he hadn’t completely abandoned his family.
yuuji, on the other hand, was overjoyed. from the moment he stepped foot into the sleek, glass-paneled office building, he was bouncing off every wall — metaphorically, at least. sukuna’s employees, most of whom had only ever seen their boss in stoic, business mode, were stunned by the whirlwind that was yuuji itadori. he was talking to them like they were old friends, cracking jokes, and asking questions about their jobs, all while everyone tried to reconcile the fact that this was sukuna’s little brother.
it’s insane how they look so alike, one of the marketing assistants whispered to another, but they’re complete opposites.
sukuna, watching from his corner office, didn’t know whether to be impressed or irritated. he’s not here to make friends. he’s here to work. but deep down, he couldn’t deny a strange sense of satisfaction seeing yuuji here, in his world, even if it was just for a short while.
as the days passed, sukuna found himself in unfamiliar territory. instead of barking orders, he found himself... mentoring. guiding yuuji through the nuances of marketing, albeit begrudgingly. at first, it was awkward, like two pieces of a puzzle that didn’t quite fit. but yuuji, with his boundless energy and openness, had a way of easing into things, even cracking sukuna’s icy exterior, bit by bit.
maybe this isn’t so bad, sukuna thought one evening as yuuji chattered on about trends and social media engagement, something sukuna would normally roll his eyes at. but now, he listened, actually listened.
and if this is what it takes to spend time with him... well, sukuna could make the sacrifice.
“oi nii-chan, is it true you and miss persephone lady used to work togeth–”
“enough with that crap! i got you here to work, not read through some trashy tabloid!” sukuna snapped, slamming his laptop shut as he glared at his younger brother.
it had been a few days since yuuji started officially interning for ryomen, and to sukuna’s surprise, the kid wasn’t half bad. he had this knack for understanding what gen z wanted — though sukuna would never admit that aloud — and somehow, yuuji managed to get him on tiktok. tiktok, of all things.
“trust me, bro, just hold the bottle up, smile a little… no, not like you’re about to kill someone — there, that’s it! just smile like a regular human.” yuuji had been chirping as he filmed his brother, who begrudgingly lifted a bottle of his own product in front of the camera.
sukuna had scoffed at the ridiculousness of it, but the reel blew up overnight, racking up millions of views. comments poured in, and to sukuna’s dismay, most of them weren’t even about the product.
"who’s the hot dilf in the suit?!"
"omg i’d buy anything daddy’s selling 😩💦"
"daddy energy is off the charts!! does he need a wife?"
"i’m literally ordering a case just ‘cause he held it, help."
meanwhile, you and suguru were practically losing your minds over the viral tiktok. not that you had anything to really worry about — persephone was the "hot girl drink" among gen z, and tiktok was basically your playground. but as a businesswoman, it irked you to see a slight dip in your numbers. for the first time in a while, your usually devoted fanbase — the ones who’d raid your comments with praise and love — had migrated to thirst over at ryomen's instead.
“those assholes knew exactly what they were doing when they whored out their boss like that,” suguru muttered, scrolling through the comments of the video, eyes narrowing at every thirst post he passed.
“suguru! language!” you scolded, shooting him a glare, though you couldn’t deny the accuracy of his observation.
“what? it’s true! look at him,” he huffed, gesturing toward the screen.
you paused, hesitantly glancing at the video again. and, well… he wasn’t wrong. sukuna had the whole tall, brooding, dark look going for him. it was no wonder half the internet was drooling over him.
“if i had to hazard a guess, they probably had a younger kid think of this,” suguru added, now analyzing the marketing tactic. “they know their stuff. gen z eats this up.”
you let out a frustrated sigh. “whatever, it doesn’t matter. we need to bounce back.”
suguru grinned mischievously. “oh, i’ve got a few ideas. starting with—”
“suguru,” you interrupted, narrowing your eyes at him, “for the last time, i am not letting you get shirtless on camera.”
he laughed, throwing his hands up in mock surrender. “hey, just offering my services! we’re losing to thirst traps here.”
you rolled your eyes, already brainstorming new strategies. “we don’t need thirst traps to win. we’re better than that.”
“yeah, yeah,” suguru smirked. “but admit it, they played their hand well with this one.”
despite his annoyance at the flood of thirsty comments, the numbers didn’t lie. the reel translated into a surprising sales boost for ryomen’s wine. sukuna was on a high after that win, but deep down, he knew it was all thanks to yuuji's ridiculous idea. actually saying "thank you"? yeah, right. that wasn’t gonna happen. instead, he decided to take yuuji to one of the socialite parties he was invited to as a subtle reward, even though he warned him, “you screw around, and i’ll throw your ass out in front of everyone.”
yuuji had grinned ear to ear. “don’t worry nii-chan, i’ll behave!”
sukuna rolled his eyes, but there was a part of him that was secretly proud. the brat was doing well, and in some twisted way, this was also an excuse to spend more time with him.
the whole tiktok situation still irked sukuna, though. since when was his image the selling point? the product was solid on its own, but apparently, gen z loved "hot dilfs" now. ridiculous. but whatever works, he thought with a scoff.
as they pulled up to the socialite event, yuuji practically bounced out of the car, eyes wide at the grandeur of the venue. sukuna shot him a sidelong glance, grumbling under his breath, “remember what i said, don’t screw this up.”
yuuji gave a mock salute, “aye, aye, captain!”
sukuna couldn’t help but smirk, but quickly covered it up with a scowl as they walked in.
you and suguru arrived early at the party, mingling with some of the top players from all industries. dressed in a scarlet gown, you felt like you blended right in with the glamour, while suguru, matching in a dark-red suit, stayed close enough so that you two could exchange subtle glances as you navigated through different groups of people.
meanwhile, sukuna was keeping an eye on yuuji, who was fidgeting next to him. “oi, nii-chan, isn’t that —” yuuji began, his eyes locking onto your figure across the room.
“brat, stop staring,” sukuna growled under his breath, half-annoyed but mostly frustrated. it was almost guaranteed he’d run into you and that bastard suguru at events like this — but now? here? with yuuji around? his blood pressure spiked instantly.
where the hell is yuuji?
his eyes darted around until he saw him — of course — bouncing over toward you as you stood at the bar, ordering a drink. sukuna’s jaw clenched as he watched. martini. how fucking cliché, he scoffed internally. though, admittedly, it did match your dress. but that wasn’t the problem here.
“hi miss!” yuuji’s voice cut through the crowd as he stood in front of you, grinning like an excited puppy.
you blinked in surprise, turning to look at him. “hey, little guy, you lost or something?”
“why does everyone think i’m little?!” yuuji whined, puffing his chest out a little. “i’m literally eighteen…”
“eighteen is still pretty little,” you teased with a smirk. “i can bet you’re the youngest one here.”
yuuji pouted. “ugh, fine… anyways, my name’s yuuji! yuuji itadori, i’m sukun—”
“brat!” sukuna’s growl cut him off as he stormed over, eyes flashing with annoyance.
you raised an eyebrow, recognition flashing in your eyes as soon as you heard that name. "so... yuuji itadori, huh?" you mused with a slight grin, your gaze shifting from yuuji to sukuna, who now stood towering beside him.
sukuna glared at yuuji. “what’d i tell you about running off, huh?”
yuuji sheepishly scratched the back of his neck, looking between you and his brother. “uhh, my bad, bro…”
sukuna was caught between two options: curtly apologize to you for yuuji’s sudden interruption or yank the brat by the collar and lecture him about keeping his head in the game. but as you sipped that ridiculous martini of yours, eyeing him and yuuji like they were some kind of curiosity, he found himself staying put.
"this one’s yours?" you asked, an amused smile playing on your lips. sukuna grunted in response, gripping yuuji's collar just a bit tighter. yuuji winced, squirming under the hold. "ow ow ow — nii-chan!"
you tilted your head, a curious glint in your eyes as you took in the scene. "if i dare guess," you began, your gaze landing squarely on sukuna with a knowing smile, "is the little one part of your marketing team?"
before sukuna could respond, yuuji eagerly jumped in, clearly excited to explain. “yes! i did that! the tiktok i mean, did you like it?”
your laugh was warm and genuine, a sound that only seemed to irritate sukuna more. "a lot of people did," you replied, still holding his gaze as you gave yuuji a nod. "but persephone’s numbers didn’t. you did well, yuuji."
yuuji lit up like a damn firework, beaming as if you’d handed him a golden trophy. sukuna scoffed, his irritation mounting. putting down your own company just to kiss the competition’s ass? what kinda idiot does that? he thought, glaring at you like you were the source of his current migraine. meanwhile, yuuji’s grin seemed to be growing bigger by the second — wasn’t there a limit to how much one person could beam? he could practically light up a whole city with the way he was grinning at you.
disgusting.
“you don’t have to suck up to her,” sukuna grumbled, finally releasing yuuji’s collar and crossing his arms. “her numbers are probably tanking ‘cause of us, and she knows it.”
you raised an eyebrow, sipping your martini like the whole thing was a joke. “maybe so, but your brother’s the reason for that, right?” you said calmly, giving yuuji a wink. “it’s only fair to acknowledge talent where it’s due.”
yuuji blinked, clearly basking in the compliment. "thanks, miss! nii-chan doesn’t say it, but i know he's proud of me."
sukuna shot his brother a look. “don’t push your luck, brat.”
you chuckled at the exchange, swirling the glass in your hand. “oh, i don’t know. seems like he’s doing a good job. maybe you should keep him around a little longer.”
“yeah, nii-chan, maybe i should get a permanent job here!” yuuji chimed in, totally missing the sarcastic undertones flying between the two of you.
sukuna clenched his jaw. great. just what i needed — both of them ganging up on me.
before the banter could progress any further, suguru’s voice cut through the little bubble like a sharp blade. "well, am i interrupting something?" he asked, his tone deceptively smooth, though his eyes were locked on sukuna and yuuji with much less warmth. he smiled at you, a softer, genuine expression, but then he let his gaze linger back on the two brothers. “look what the cat dragged in. as if one wasn’t enough, we now have two.”
sukuna was already seeing red, his fist clenching by his side. you want to throw shots at me? fine. but take a swing at my little brother, and i’ll rip you apart. just as he was about to snap back, ready to tear into suguru, yuuji’s voice cut through the tension in the air.
“dude... what is that haircare routine?” yuuji asked, his eyes wide with genuine curiosity.
the sheer randomness of the question left all three adults in momentary silence. you barely managed to hold back a laugh, your martini glass pressed to your lips as you tried to stifle the sound. suguru, on the other hand, just blinked, dumbfounded, as if he wasn’t sure if yuuji was joking or serious.
“are you… are you serious?” suguru finally asked, his brows furrowing in disbelief.
yuuji nodded earnestly, clearly unaware of the tension that had been suffocating the air moments before. “yeah, dude. it’s, like, so shiny! how do you do it?”
the awkward silence that followed was broken by your quiet scoff of amusement, followed by a smile you tried to hide behind your glass. even suguru, momentarily disarmed, glanced sideways at you, but it was clear that yuuji’s completely unintentional intervention had somehow postponed the inevitable face-off.
for now.
sukuna, though still seething, was momentarily taken aback by his brother’s pure, childlike curiosity, his anger simmering into frustration instead. “are you fuckin’ serious” he muttered under his breath, not entirely sure if he should laugh or smack yuuji upside the head.
suguru shook his head in disbelief, running a hand through his admittedly perfect hair, before giving sukuna a pointed look. “well, i suppose the brat has taste. not everyone can pull this off,” he said, his smugness barely hidden as he flicked his gaze between sukuna and you.
you chuckled, finally lowering your glass. "i don’t know, suguru. maybe he’s got a point." you smiled at yuuji, enjoying the brief moment of levity that, for once, didn’t involve the constant tension between the two men.
“excuse us,” sukuna grunted bluntly, shoving past you and suguru as he dragged yuuji along with him.
“oi, ow ow, ouch — nii-chan, i can walk!” yuuji whined, trying to free himself from sukuna’s iron grip.
“can’t trust you to be ‘walking’ around anywhere anymore, brat,” sukuna shot back, his tone harsh but not without a hint of affection.
“but ’m eighteen! i’m practically a grown-up!” yuuji protested, pouting as he tried to keep up.
“grown-up? please. you’re still a kid in my eyes,” sukuna scoffed, shaking his head. “and you think you can just stroll up to a stranger at a party? she could be a gold digger or something.”
“she’s pretty, you know,” yuuji blurted out, his eyes wide with admiration as he glanced back at you.
“like hell she is! god, i swear the bar gets lower and lower with each generation,” sukuna replied, his voice dripping with disdain, but his eyes betrayed a flicker of curiosity about you.
“what’s wrong with being pretty? you’re just jealous!” yuuji exclaimed, finally breaking free and spinning to face sukuna. “you’re the one who’s grumpy all the time!”
“grumpy? i’m just realistic. just because you think some girl is pretty doesn’t mean she’s not trouble,” sukuna retorted, crossing his arms as he glared at his brother.
“but she’s not trouble! she’s cool! she even said i did a good job on that tiktok!” yuuji defended, excitement sparkling in his eyes.
“yeah, well, that’s probably just her being nice to you,” sukuna replied, rolling his eyes. “i bet she’s just buttering you up.”
“she’s not!” yuuji insisted, his voice rising. “i really think she likes me—”
“likes you? please, she’s probably just being polite,” sukuna interrupted, clearly annoyed. “you’re not exactly a catch, you know.”
“that’s mean!” yuuji shot back, his bottom lip jutting out. “i’m a great catch! i’ve got mad skills!”
“mad skills? like what, jumping around and acting like a fool? you’re a kid, yuuji. stay in your lane,” sukuna scoffed, his tone lightening just a bit.
meanwhile, back at the bar, suguru’s usually composed face is clouded with concern. “you’re okay, right? he didn’t say anything? hurt you? touch y—”
“sugu, i’m fine! really,” you reply, an exasperated smile tugging at your lips. he lets out a grumble, clearly still irritated, as he plops down next to you on the perched bar stool. his hand reaches out for yours in a quiet, almost shy gesture of reassurance.
“sukuna may be an ass, but he won’t compromise on yuuji’s safety by starting a scene,” you add, trying to ease his worry.
“you know that kid?” suguru asks, eyebrows raised in mild surprise.
“more or less. i used to make monthly bank transfers to a ‘yuuji itadori,’ so i’m guessing it’s him,” you explain with a shrug.
“huh, guess that pink-haired fiend actually has a heart somewhere in there.” suguru scoffs, shaking his head.
“suguru!” you nudge him with your elbow, stifling a laugh.
“no, but seriously,” he softens, his gaze searching your face. “you good, vino? I don’t want you getting hurt.”
“yeah, i’m fine. i was... kinda expecting him here, you know. and besides, i’’m over it,” you say, a hint of finality in your tone. you take a breath, glancing around the room before turning back to him with a playful roll of your eyes. “and can you please stop calling me vino?”
“what! it sounds classy,” suguru grins, clearly enjoying your reaction.
“classy? it sounds like i’m a bottle on the top shelf at a wine shop,” you reply, feigning annoyance but unable to keep the smile from spreading across your face.
“hey, if the shoe fits…” he teases, his grip on your hand tightening briefly, a small reminder that he’s always got your back — even when sukuna’s around.
“no, but seriously,” suguru leans in, his tone soft yet firm. “you don’t need to worry about sukuna. you’re in your own element right now. don’t let pinkie pie over there ruin it for you.”
you let out a laugh, his words pulling you out of your thoughts, and suguru's smile deepens as he watches the corners of your lips lift. god, he loved seeing you smile like that. it’s moments like these that make him grateful you came out stronger. though he hated the rough patches you’d been through, there was nothing he admired more than your resilience. he realized just how much he loved seeing you happy, and he hated the thought of you ever hurting, especially because of someone like sukuna. that bastard had taken enough from you, but here you were, standing taller than ever, glowing even. and suguru loved that about you — the way you’d come out of the storm stronger. even when things got tough, you always found a way to push through.
but it didn’t stop him from worrying. it never would.
“you know i got you, right?” he asked quietly, almost as if he needed to remind you — but also himself. his grip tightened just a bit, an anchor in the noisy room.
when you smiled and squeezed his hand back, saying, "of course i do, sugu," it was like the weight on his chest lightened just a little.
screw sukuna, he thought. no matter what came next, as long as you had him, you wouldn’t be facing anything alone. and that was all that mattered.
he nods, but there’s a twinge of frustration simmering beneath the surface. he wants to protect you from all the bullshit that comes with this industry, especially from someone like sukuna. he knows you’re tough and capable, but that doesn’t stop him from wishing he could shield you from the chaos.
“just… keep doing what you’re doing. you’re incredible, and you deserve every bit of success coming your way.” his gaze holds yours, sincere and unwavering. he knows you’ve faced challenges, and he’s proud to stand by you, no matter what.
“thanks, suguru. it means a lot.” your voice is soft, and for a moment, the noise of the party fades into the background, leaving just the two of you in your little bubble of understanding.
“cursed vintages: sip the darkness, savor the power? you can’t be serious.”
you stared in disbelief at the large billboard advertising sukuna’s latest venture. of course, it was dramatic, leaning into the over-the-top theatrics that fit his brand. cursed vintages was a direct competitor to your upcoming release, spirited whispers: a hauntingly light sip for your eerie nights! the timing was too convenient, almost as if sukuna had planned it just to outshine you. you couldn’t help but scoff at the absurd tagline — sip the darkness, savor the power — it was so him.
as frustrating as it was, you knew sukuna’s bold play was part of a larger strategy. he'd always aimed to dominate, but he wouldn't dare cross the line by doing something illegal, like price-fixing. that wasn’t his style. sukuna might be ruthless, but he wasn't careless, and losing face over something so reckless wasn't in the cards for him.
you cast an irritated glance at the massive advertisement towering over your office’s commercial district. sukuna and a model posed elegantly on either side of his new wine, their faces shadowed by the bold branding. sukuna’s smirk was infuriating, like he knew exactly how much it would annoy you. it was clear he was leveraging his good looks to boost sales and push his brand, playing on his appeal in the most obvious way.
but you weren’t one to back down. as you studied the billboard, an idea sparked in your mind — something bold, something that could turn the tables.
“sugu! i’ve got an idea,” you burst into suguru’s office, a mischievous grin on your face. “but…you need to get shirtless for this.”
suguru’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “what now?” he asked, leaning back in his chair, clearly skeptical of whatever plan you had.
“you heard me,” you replied, undeterred. “we’re gonna hit sukuna where it hurts — if he’s going to flaunt his looks to sell wine, then we’ll do the same.”
suguru gave you a half-laugh, half-sigh. “so…your genius marketing plan involves me stripping down?”
you nodded, a grin playing on your lips. “trust me, it’ll work. we need something bold, something viral. a frat party-style ad, with you right in the middle of it. everyone will be talking about it.”
he shook his head, chuckling. “fine, but only because you asked.”
within days, your ad was everywhere. people couldn’t get enough of it — the combination of modern-day recession pop music and the carefree, chaotic energy of a frat party resonated across generations. the low-budget aesthetic only made it more relatable, especially with suguru’s shirtless appearance front and center, surrounded by a crowd of partygoers. spirited whispers became the go-to drink for college parties, nostalgic millennials, and even curious onlookers who wanted a piece of the action.
sales skyrocketed. within a week and a half, your six-month stock was completely sold out. spirited whispers had blown up in ways you hadn’t anticipated, becoming a cultural phenomenon. and the best part? sukuna was furious.
back at sukuna’s office, yuuji was taking the fallout personally. slouched in one of the chairs, he sighed. “it’s my fault, right? we didn’t work hard enough, and now persephone’s–”
“it’s not your fault, brat,” sukuna cut him off sharply, his frustration evident but not directed at his younger brother. seeing yuuji’s dejected expression made sukuna bristle. “you’re just an intern. whatever you did, you did it well, so stop moping around like this.”
yuuji looked up, surprised by the rare hint of praise. “i’ll work harder, nii-chan! i’ll make you proud, i promise.”
sukuna’s heart clenched slightly at yuuji’s words. despite his tough exterior, moments like these reminded him why he was so driven to succeed. everything he did, all the ruthless business tactics, it was for his family, especially yuuji.
before sukuna could respond, uraume, his most trusted employee, stormed into the office, looking uncharacteristically rattled. “sir, you need to see this,” they said urgently, handing sukuna a tablet. the headline blared in bold, sensationalized text:
"former secretary to powerful business mogul becomes rival: y/n’s rise to stardom amidst scandal"
sukuna’s jaw clenched as he read the article. of course, they were dredging up old rumors, trying to link your past employment under him to some scandalous narrative. the tabloids had clearly caught wind of your recent success, and now they were out for blood, twisting your story into something salacious.
this wasn’t just business anymore. sukuna’s anger simmered beneath the surface, but his mind was already moving. it was time to put an end to this.
“schedule a meeting,” sukuna said coldly.
“with who?” uraume asked, though they already had a good idea.
“with y/n,” sukuna answered, his eyes narrowing. “it’s time we settled this.”
“you got mail, vino,” suguru teased as he stepped into your office, holding up his tablet with a faint grin. “pinkie pie wants to set up a meeting tomorrow.”
you raised an eyebrow, half-amused, half-skeptical. “all it took was you getting shirtless for him to come visit us, suguru,” you teased, trying to keep the mood light despite the hint of tension beneath your words.
but suguru didn’t laugh. instead, his expression shifted slightly, his tone more serious. “not us, y/n. just you. he… asked for you, specifically.”
the way he said it made your stomach drop. “what do you mean, sugu?”
suguru sighed, his easy demeanor replaced by something more somber. “y/n, this meeting… it’s not just about the wine. someone published a full-length tabloid piece. on you and sukuna.”
your blood ran cold. all the teasing left your body, replaced by a sinking feeling of dread. “sugu, tell me you’re lying,” you said, your voice shaky, desperately hoping this was just another one of his jokes.
he looked at you with regret in his eyes, shaking his head. “i’m not, y/n. i’m sorry. we’re already working to get it removed from our end, but it’s all over the place.”
his words felt distant, muffled, as your thoughts spiraled. the whole reason you’d thrown yourself into this business, the late nights, the strategy, the risks — it was all to make a name for yourself. to not be associated with sukuna, to stand on your own feet and build something without his shadow looming over you. but now it felt like all that effort had been undone, like your entire identity was being dragged back into his orbit.
why did it feel like no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t escape him? were you that devoid of luck, of any hope for a clean slate, let alone a happy ending?
your hands gripped the edge of your desk as you fought to steady your breath, your mind racing. suguru stepped closer, concern softening his voice. “y/n, we’ll figure this out. this isn’t the end.”
but all you could think about was tomorrow. the meeting. facing sukuna again.
sukuna strode into your office building, lips curling into a sneer as he scanned the crowd of employees milling around. "what the fuck is this place?," he muttered under his breath, eyes narrowing at the laid-back environment.
some people were dressed so casually he had to wonder if they were on their way to a beach party instead of working. baggy t-shirts, sneakers, and even someone in what looked like pajama pants — it was a far cry from the cutthroat atmosphere of his own office. how the hell did you run a successful business with this ragtag bunch?
but, sukuna wasn’t an idiot. persephone’s numbers were some of the best in the industry. these kids — these kids were the ones who’d been fucking with his sales for weeks now. and he couldn’t deny it, no matter how much he hated it. never trust a book by its cover, right? even if this office looked like a frat house, it clearly delivered results.
still, the sight of it grated on him. made his skin crawl. "what a goddamn joke," he thought, shoving his hands deeper into his pockets as he made his way to your office.
the moment he pushed open the door, though, expecting to see you, he stopped dead in his tracks. it wasn’t your figure behind the desk — it was suguru, leaning casually back in your chair like he owned the place.
“what the fuck is this, now?” sukuna's voice was harsh, his frustration immediately bubbling over. he hadn’t come here to deal with your right-hand man.
suguru, unfazed by sukuna’s usual brashness, just smiled, sitting up slightly. “sorry, y/n’s not here right now. emergency shipping issue. had to send her out across the city. guess you’re stuck with me.”
sukuna’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “you really think i’m gonna believe that shit? sounds like a fuckin’ excuse to avoid me.”
suguru shrugged, clearly not bothered by sukuna’s attitude. “believe what you want, man. i’m just telling you how it is. besides,” he added with a smirk, “what’d you need y/n for anyway? i’m perfectly capable of handling a little business negotiation.”
the office was large, sleek, and modern — surprisingly professional compared to the chaos outside. it pissed sukuna off more that everything was in perfect order, like you’d been expecting him to show up. the leather chair, the spotless glass desk — it all looked ready to welcome him. except it wasn’t you sitting there, it was this fucker.
sukuna gritted his teeth, the itch to throw suguru out of the chair gnawing at him. he wasn’t used to being thrown off like this. this was supposed to be simple, just get in, handle things with you, and get the hell out. now he was stuck, dealing with suguru and his cool, unbothered demeanor.
“look, i don’t got time for this bullshit. where the hell is she?” sukuna growled.
suguru leaned forward slightly, still maintaining that infuriating smile. “she’s not avoiding you, sukuna. but you showing up like this… it’s kinda unnecessary, don’t you think? it’s not like y/n’s going anywhere. if there’s something you want to talk about, i’m right here. what’s the rush?”
sukuna snorted, anger barely restrained. “don’t fucking act like you know what this is about.”
suguru tilted his head, raising an eyebrow. “actually, i do. i know about the tabloid. i know why you’re here. but that doesn’t mean y/n has to deal with your shit, sukuna.”
sukuna felt his blood boil. this asshole, stepping in like he knew everything. like he could stop him from getting what he wanted. "you're lucky you're still in that chair, you smug piece of shit."
suguru’s calm never wavered. “and you’re lucky i’m still talking to you. trust me, y/n doesn’t need your bullshit right now.”
sukuna glared daggers at him, the whole situation making him want to smash something. "fuck this," he thought, but deep down, he knew suguru had pulled a fast one on him. he could feel it, a tightness in his chest, like the whole reason he came here was slipping out of his grasp. you. he’d wanted to see you. confront you. and now… now he was just left fuming at a man who wouldn’t budge.
sukuna, jaw tight, took a deep breath. as much as he wanted to throw suguru through the fucking window, he knew they needed to get this over with. he wasn’t the type to drag out bullshit conversations, and if this was the only way to move things along, then so be it.
“fine,” sukuna growled, leaning back in the chair across from suguru. “let’s talk business then. i’m proposing a collaboration between ryomen and persephone.”
the words sounded alien coming from his mouth, like some kind of bitter aftertaste. sukuna wasn’t one to collaborate with anyone, let alone with someone who had been running circles around him lately. but he wasn’t dumb. christmas was coming, and after that, new year’s — the prime season for wine sales. speaking purely from a business perspective, it made sense. persephone had the youth market in their pocket, and sukuna had the high-end crowd. together, they could dominate both.
suguru raised an eyebrow, clearly not expecting that. “a collaboration? you’re serious?”
“do i look like i’m fucking joking?” sukuna snapped, running a hand through his hair, the irritation visible in his body language. “look, i don’t like this shit any more than you do. but it’s smart, and it’ll work. your low-alcohol crap and my high-end shit? we could wipe out the competition through the end of the year. christmas, new year’s — people are buying like crazy. we take advantage of it.”
suguru leaned back in your chair, crossing his arms as he watched sukuna. “what’s the catch?”
sukuna narrowed his eyes. “there’s no fucking catch. it’s a straightforward deal. we both profit. easy as that.”
but suguru wasn’t buying it. “yeah, sure. but what happens when you sideline us? when ryomen suddenly take the spotlight and persephone’s pushed out of the picture?” suguru’s voice was steady, but his words were sharp. he wasn’t falling for any tricks.
sukuna clenched his fists, his temper flaring again. “you think i’m a fucking cheat? that i’m gonna fuck you guys over just because i can?” he stood up, looming over suguru. “i might be a lot of things, but when it comes to business, i don’t fuck around. if i say we’re in this together, we’re fucking in it together.”
suguru didn’t flinch, even as sukuna loomed over him, radiating barely contained rage. “you’ll forgive me if i don’t take you at your word, sukuna.”
sukuna let out a bitter laugh, stepping back slightly, but still glaring down at suguru. “you’re paranoid, geto. but fine, i get it. i’m not asking you to trust me. i’m asking you to look at the numbers. this works. you know it does.”
suguru studied sukuna for a moment before responding, his tone calm. “even if i do entertain this idea, what’s stopping you from trying to bulldoze us in the future?”
sukuna’s patience snapped. “because i don’t need to! i got my own goddamn empire to run. you think i’ve got time to fuck around with your company? this is a one-time deal. you either take it or you don’t. and trust me, geto, if you don’t, you’ll regret it.”
there was a heavy silence between them, the weight of sukuna’s words hanging in the air. it was clear that, while he was brash and crude, sukuna wasn’t here to mess around.
as much as suguru wanted to tell sukuna to fuck off, he knew this wasn’t a decision he could make on his own, not without your input. he couldn’t afford to be reckless, no matter how tempting it was to tell sukuna exactly where to shove his so-called “collaboration.”
suguru gave a tight-lipped smile, standing up from behind your desk. “we’ll think about it and get back to you.”
sukuna’s eyes flashed with frustration, his jaw clenching as he stepped closer to suguru. “you better make it quick,” he growled, the warning clear in his voice.
suguru didn’t flinch, holding his ground. “we’ll be in touch,” he said, his tone firm but not aggressive, making it clear that the conversation was over.
with a scoff, sukuna turned on his heel and stormed out, the tension in the air still thick even after he was gone. suguru let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, sitting back down and rubbing his temples. as much as he hated dealing with sukuna, he knew this was something you’d need to decide.
“hey, vino, how was the shipping —”
“geto, why did you lie to me?”
your voice cut through the room like a blade, sharp and cold. suguru, lounging comfortably on the sofa like he owned the place, straightened up immediately, the usual warmth of your voice replaced by something far more biting. being called "geto" instead of "sugu" was all he needed to know that he was in trouble — deep trouble.
he glanced up at you, eyes widening slightly at your expression. you were pissed, more than he had anticipated. “wait, hold on — what are you talking about?”
you slammed your bag onto the nearest table, glaring at him like you were about to explode. “you lied to me about the emergency, suguru! what the hell? you sent me on some bogus errand just so i’d miss sukuna showing up at the office? are you out of your goddamn mind?”
suguru winced at the bluntness of your words. he knew you’d be mad, but this? this was worse than he’d thought. “look, i just didn’t want you dealing with that asshole today, alright? you’ve been stressed, and —"
“so you thought lying to me and sending me on a wild goose chase would help?!” you snapped, pacing angrily. “you made me look like an idiot, suguru! and for what? to protect me from sukuna? i can handle myself, you know.”
he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “i know you can, but —"
“no, you don’t know!” you cut him off, your frustration bubbling over. “you don’t get to decide how i handle my shit. i needed to be there for that meeting, and now you’ve just made it ten times worse!”
he opened his mouth to respond, but you weren’t having it. “you’re not my babysitter, suguru. stop treating me like some delicate fucking flower.”
as you stood there, fuming, suguru got up from the sofa and walked toward you with that irritatingly calm demeanor of his. “come on, sweetheart, calm down for a sec,” he called for you softly, even though you wanted to stay mad at him. his hand found its way to your arm, rubbing slow, calming circles as he stood close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating off him.
you hated how easily he could chip away at your anger like this. you let out a tired sigh, the fight draining out of you, leaning your head lightly against his shoulder. “suguru, this was still messed up,” you muttered, though the sharpness in your tone had softened.
he felt his heart race at the contact, but kept his expression cool. “i know, i know. i was just trying to look out for you, but i get it — you don’t need me to do that.” he paused, his voice dropping slightly, “about the meeting... sukuna proposed a deal. a collaboration for the holiday season.”
you pulled back just enough to look at him. “a deal? with sukuna?” the skepticism was clear in your voice.
“yeah. i don’t like it either, but it could be good for business,” he said, his thumb still tracing soothing patterns on your arm. “i figured we’d at least consider it.”
you sighed again, your frustration ebbing into something more like exhaustion. “alright. let’s take the deal. but next time, no more bullshit, okay?”
he gave a small smile, relief washing over him. “okay.”
suguru pulled out his phone and quickly texted your secretary to notify sukuna that they’d agree to the proposal. as he sent the message, he couldn’t help but glance at you, still leaning slightly against him. his heart was beating faster than it should’ve, but he ignored it, focusing instead on getting business done.
“don’t ask, the brat insisted he sit here.” sukuna scoffed, gesturing at yuuji, who was practically bouncing in his seat, excitement radiating off him. it was hard to blame him, though; after all, they were making history here — ryomen collaborating with persephone.
“so, pretty simple — we start a joint venture solely for the christmas and new year’s season, walk out with the profits, and pretend this never happened. deal?” sukuna stated, leaning back in his chair with an air of casual confidence.
“wow, nii-chan, you make a multi-billion deal sound so simple,” yuuji chimed in, his wide eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. he received an annoyed glare from sukuna in response.
“he’s right,” you spoke up for the first time since entering the room, your voice steady. “we still need to discuss a lot more things in detail.”
sukuna scowled at you, torn between respect for your attention to detail and irritation that this wasn’t as straightforward as he’d hoped. “what more is there to discuss? we’re splitting profits, that’s it.”
you leaned forward, resting your elbows on the table. “for starters, we need to decide how the marketing will work. are we promoting under both brands or focusing solely on one? and how do we plan to handle distribution?”
sukuna shrugged, leaning back as if your questions didn’t faze him. “we just let our teams figure that out. they’re good at what they do. just make sure to keep your eye on your side of things.”
“that’s not exactly a solid plan,” you replied, your tone firm. “if we don’t have a cohesive strategy, we risk losing customers on both sides.”
“so you want to babysit my team?” he shot back, his eyes narrowing slightly.
“no, i want to ensure that this partnership is beneficial for both of us,” you retorted, holding his gaze. “we need to figure out our target audience and how to appeal to them. plus, we should set clear expectations for each party involved.”
yuuji, sensing the rising tension, jumped in, trying to diffuse the situation. “what if we create a special holiday blend? something unique to this collaboration? that way, we can market it together and have fun with it!”
sukuna looked at yuuji, momentarily surprised by the suggestion. “not a terrible idea, brat. but what’s your point?”
“it’ll give us something to push on social media, too! and if we make it limited edition, people will rush to buy it. we can use both of your brands to create buzz,” yuuji explained, his enthusiasm infectious.
“i like that,” you said, nodding in agreement. “it adds value and creates urgency. plus, we can promote it as a holiday exclusive, which will draw in more customers.”
sukuna crossed his arms, still skeptical. “fine, let’s say we go with that. but what’s next? i’m not wasting time on endless meetings.”
“then let’s set a timeline,” you suggested, jotting down notes on your tablet. “we need deadlines for marketing materials, production schedules, and launch dates. if we want this to work, we need to be organized.”
“alright, let’s lay it out,” sukuna relented, though he still had that signature scowl on his face. “but you better not fuck this up for me, or you’ll be hearing from me.”
you smirked, feeling a sense of accomplishment. “trust me, sukuna. if anyone’s going to fuck this up, it won’t be me.”
the collaboration between ryomen and persephone was the talk of the town post-halloween. the launch of your joint christmas and new year holiday special didn’t just turn heads — it seemed to capture the attention of every major sector. market analysts were buzzing with reports about the wine industry’s trajectory, forecasting the impact your collaboration would have on both your companies’ market shares. singers and actors began endorsing your holiday blend, and even some of the biggest names in the industry wanted in. you and sukuna even managed to rope in mariah carey herself — a massive investment that nearly drained both of your wallets. but with profits flooding in almost immediately after, it felt more like a minor hiccup than a real setback.
tabloids, unsurprisingly, had a field day with it. their favorite narrative? that you were using your past connection with sukuna to get ahead in the market. "she’s leveraging her history with him,” they’d gossip. but just as quickly, the defense came: “they just hate to see a girlboss winning.” the tabloids were shut down by the people, who were more focused on how well the collaboration was doing rather than who was behind it.
honestly, working with sukuna wasn’t nearly as bad as you thought it’d be. sure, there was the occasional scowl or blunt comment at board meetings, but sukuna seemed to have more of a professional demeanor when it came to business. you only saw him once or twice during presentations or negotiations, and whenever you did, suguru was always close by. he’d be leaning in with a quick comment, making sure you felt comfortable, making it easier to shrug off sukuna’s sharper remarks.
things were actually starting to look good for once. there was hope, a sense of optimism that maybe things could keep going this well. your company was thriving, the collaboration was a success, and your name was gaining even more recognition in the industry.
until that damn christmas party.
the festive atmosphere had been building up for weeks — holiday music, the smell of mulled wine and cinnamon, twinkling lights strung up across your office’s ceiling. persephone and ryomen had decided to throw a joint christmas bash for both companies to celebrate the success of your holiday line. everything seemed to be going smoothly.
that was, until things started to go a bit too smoothly.
everything was fine and dandy until you thought, why not have a sip of ryomen wine? after all, it had been so long since you'd last tried it, right? but the moment that familiar taste hit your tongue, you knew it was a mistake. was it the wine itself, or the flood of memories that came rushing back — of nights you'd rather forget, when alcohol was more of a crutch than a choice?
your stomach turned violently, the nausea creeping up your throat until you couldn't hold it in. before you knew it, you were dry heaving, the sound breaking through the music and laughter in the room. then, you lost it. you puked, right there in front of everyone — the guests, the business partners, the employees, all staring in shock.
"sugu, i–" you tried to say, but the words were caught in your throat as you bent over, heaving again.
"shit, y/n, hold on," suguru rushed to your side, worry etched all over his face as he gently gripped your shoulders, guiding you away from the crowd. "breathe, okay? just breathe."
uraume, always quick on their feet, swiftly called in a medic who had been on standby, just in case. “i’ve alerted the medic,” they said calmly, though their eyes betrayed the concern they felt seeing you like this.
but sukuna? he stood there, silent. frozen. for the first time in a long while, he didn't know what to feel. frustration, maybe? anger? embarrassment? or was it something else entirely — something closer to concern, though he’d never admit it, even to himself.
"fuck," sukuna muttered under his breath, the scowl on his face deepening as he watched the scene unfold. why the hell did she even drink that? part of him was annoyed, but there was a tug, something gnawing at him that he couldn't quite place. maybe it was the realization that seeing you like this affected him more than it should.
suguru glanced up at sukuna, his expression hard, almost daring him to say something. “you gonna stand there, or help?” he spat, one arm still supporting you as you struggled to get your bearings.
sukuna’s jaw tightened, but instead of snapping back, he turned and walked away from the scene, his fists clenched. "fuck this."
everyone seemed more interested in sukuna’s abrupt departure than the fact that you had just puked. the whispers and gossip quickly shifted from your heaving to the sight of ryomen sukuna walking out of the party without a word. sure, it wasn’t uncommon for people to get a little sick during the holidays — too much food, too much wine — but for sukuna to just up and leave while his business partner was clearly unwell? that was unheard of.
“did you see him just walk out? what the hell’s his problem?”
“seriously? with y/n being sick? kinda heartless.”
you could hear the murmurs from the washroom as you splashed cold water onto your face, trying to steady yourself. was it the wine? the memories? you weren’t sure anymore. your throat still burned, the taste of bile lingering as you rinsed your mouth. but it wasn’t just the physical reaction that made your chest tighten — it was everything else. why now? why here?
yuuji stood by the door, fidgeting awkwardly, his usual energy subdued. “you okay? need any more help?” he asked softly, his voice full of genuine concern. “i brought some mints if you want,” he added, pulling a small tin from his pocket, as if that could make things any better.
“thanks, yuuji,” you mumbled, forcing a small smile despite the situation. the sweetness in his gesture almost brought a tear to your eye.
suguru, on the other hand, was more serious, standing next to you as you dabbed a towel to your lips. “i knew this was a bad idea. should’ve pulled you out earlier,” he muttered under his breath, his hand hovering near your back, ready to steady you if you faltered again. “screw sukuna for making things worse.”
you shook your head, trying to dismiss the weight of it all. “it’s not his fault. i mean... i should’ve known better than to drink that.”
suguru’s expression darkened slightly at your words. “don’t defend him, y/n. he walked out like a dick while you’re here puking your guts out. that’s all i need to know.”
outside the washroom, uraume stood with quiet composure, offering their silent support. they didn’t say anything, but you knew. they couldn’t show outright sympathy — not with their loyalty to sukuna so visibly on display. but their presence alone was reassuring, as if they were silently letting you know that you weren’t alone in this.
“uraume...you don’t have to wait outside, you know,” you called out, your voice a little shaky.
“i know,” they replied evenly, their tone cool yet gentle. “but i’ll remain here, just in case.” their respect for boundaries was evident, but it didn’t make their support any less felt.
you let out a long, shaky breath, staring at your reflection in the mirror. your eyes were red-rimmed, but whether that was from the nausea or the emotional weight, you couldn’t tell. the memories tied to that damn wine were coming back, thick and heavy, clouding your thoughts.
why did it feel like this partnership was costing you more than you ever anticipated?
“this isn’t just about tonight,” you finally admitted aloud, though it was more to yourself than anyone else. suguru caught the shift in your tone, a flicker of worry crossing his face.
“what do you mean?” suguru asked, frowning.
you shook your head. “nothing... it’s just... all of this. it’s taking more of a toll on me than i thought.”
“then maybe it’s time to pull back,” suguru suggested, his voice steady but protective. “you don’t have to keep pushing yourself for this partnership. not if it’s dragging you down.”
you wiped at the corner of your eye, the unshed tears barely noticeable. “i don’t know if i can afford to pull back.”
suguru reached for your hand, his touch warm against your cold fingers. “then we’ll figure it out. together.”
with a small nod, you let out another deep breath, grateful for the support of the people who stayed, even while sukuna — and your past — walked out of the room.
sukuna sat at his desk, shoulders tense as he glared at the numbers flashing across his computer screen. he wasn’t reading them — hadn’t been for a while now. the only thing running through his mind was the scene from earlier, of you heaving in front of everyone at that damn christmas party. it left a bad taste in his mouth, one he couldn’t seem to wash away. and it wasn't just the wine or the party.
he heard the quiet creak of his office door opening but didn’t turn. he knew it was uraume before they even spoke.
“how’s she?” he asked, his voice blunt, the edge of irritation barely masked. he didn’t look up from the screen, but his mind had already drifted far from his work.
“she’s alright,” uraume said, tone calm despite their own weariness. “your brother and her partner were there for her.”
sukuna grunted. he was relieved but didn’t say it. the fact that you had been taken care of wasn’t the issue — it was the nagging frustration gnawing at him. he wasn’t sure what to call it. anger? guilt? neither of those felt right. his brow furrowed deeper, fingers tapping impatiently on the desk as uraume lingered in the doorway.
they stood silently for a moment before finally daring to speak, stepping into the lion’s den with a quiet firmness. “you know, walking out like that…” uraume started, carefully choosing their words. “it wasn’t your best decision.”
sukuna’s eyes flicked up at that, narrowing slightly. “the fuck are you getting at?” his voice was sharp, a bite in his tone that dared them to continue. uraume had always been one of the few who could speak openly to him, but even they knew the risks of poking at the king of curses when he was in a mood.
“she was sick. and you left.” uraume crossed their arms, unshaken by sukuna’s glare. “it’s not just about appearances. it’s about how you handled the situation. or didn’t handle it.”
sukuna’s jaw clenched. "she’s not my fucking problem, alright? i don’t owe her anything," he snapped, a low growl rumbling in his chest. “i’m not her babysitter. she got too into the wine, and it’s not my job to stand around coddling her like some fuckin’ weakling.”
uraume’s gaze didn’t waver. “it wasn’t about babysitting her. it was about showing you gave a damn. even if you don’t owe her anything, she’s still your business partner for the time being.”
sukuna scoffed, pushing his chair back and standing up abruptly. “don’t lecture me about giving a damn, uraume. i’ve done enough, and i’m not gonna sit around and play nice just because she puked at a party.”
but uraume wasn’t done. they stepped closer, their calm demeanor unshaken by sukuna’s rising frustration. “you’re not stupid. you know that partnership took more out of her than you think. her past with you, everything… it’s all coming back to haunt her. you walking away just made it worse.”
sukuna’s fist slammed onto the desk, the loud bang echoing through the room. “what the hell do you expect me to do? pat her on the back and tell her it’s all sunshine and rainbows? fuck that. she knew what she was getting into.”
uraume remained calm. “maybe she did, but you didn’t have to make it harder for her.”
sukuna’s eyes darkened, tension crackling in the air. “don’t tell me how to handle my shit. i’ve got enough to deal with without worrying about her.” he was almost growling now, but uraume held their ground, unflinching.
“you may not need to worry about her,” uraume said quietly, “but that doesn’t mean you should go out of your way to hurt her. you left for a reason tonight. you felt something, even if you won’t admit it.”
sukuna stared at them, his lips pulled into a scowl, but he said nothing. the silence stretched, heavy with unspoken tension. he hated that uraume was right, even if he wouldn’t admit it. he had felt something. a pang of discomfort, maybe even guilt. watching you like that had stirred something inside him, and that feeling had only made him angrier.
he didn’t know how to process it, so he had walked away.
with a sigh, uraume took a step back, sensing that pushing further would only provoke him more. “think about it, ryomen,” they said softly before turning to leave.
as the door closed behind them, sukuna sank back into his chair, his mind racing. he hated feeling like this — like there was something clawing at him from the inside, something he couldn’t control. and the worst part? it was all because of you.
he scowled, running a hand through his hair. "fucking hell," he muttered under his breath. you had gotten under his skin, and he wasn’t sure what pissed him off more — your presence or the fact that he cared enough to notice.
hi lovelies <3 taglist is still open, please have your age displayed in your bio to be added. this will gradually deal with darker themes, and i wish everyone to be of age (AKA 18+) before adding them. thank you for understanding! let me know how you liked this chapter (: if you don't have your age in your bio and you still ask to be added, i'll just ignore your request. please read the above! produced by creamflix on tumblr. all rights reserved. do not copy, steal, modify, repost — support your writers by liking and reblogging. ♡ banners by cafekitsune
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