#luxury wedding flower arrangements | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

joooooniecore · 2 months ago

Text

The wrong Kim?

mingyuxfem!reader, friends to lovers, Reader as a florist, Mingyu as a businessman, idiots in love

PLOT: You never expected to come face to face with your childhood best friend and teenage crush Kim Mingyu again. But here you are, as he stands in your flower shop, trying to choose bouquets for a big wedding.

WARNINGS: smut, explicit scenes, foul language, minors dni, smut scene has been marked, skip if uncomfortable

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"There is a wedding in Mr. Kim's family. His son is getting married and you are hired as the florist."

That was definitely not the first thing you wanted to hear as soon as you opened the shop early in the morning.

Let's start from the very beginning.

You are a very expertized and famous florist, born and raised in a very middle-class family, in a small town. You picked on the art of flower arrangement at a very young age. Like every typical parent, your mother and father wanted you to pursue some big level corporate job but you were never good at those. Being more indulged in creativity, you decided to attend an arts school, and later did a course on floral arrangements. Currently, you earn an ample amount of money just by doing this exact job for various luxurious occasions all around the city and also outside of the city.

Now comes the question of Mr. Kim. Kim family is one of the oldest families of the town and even played a big role in the advancement of the town. They are very well known in this area and fall under the high-class families. Mr. Kim is the third generation in the family and he has two sons, elder Kim Minhyuk and younger, who is the same age as that of you, Kim Mingyu.

Mingyu and you used to be the best of friends since middle school. Mingyu's father has always adored you and the dedication you had for certain things. It was Mingyu's father who insisted your family to let you study whatever you want.

The trouble started when you both reached high school. Mingyu became sort of popular because of his looks and that created a rift between the two of you. Mingyu would have people flock around him and they would talk poorly about you.

You soon got caught up on every single thing everyone said and decided to distance yourself. And that was how the greatest fight between you and Mingyu happened where he wanted a reason about the distance and you were stubborn enough to not give him that. You both went on your own ways after graduation.

The only issue? Neither of your parents knew about how bad the fight was. Hence, they still think that Mingyu and you are friends.

Back to the present, you knew this day would come. You knew that if Mingyu gets married, he would hire you as the florist. You nodded your head almost in a robotic way and went inside the small office room. You have several branches of this flower shop in many neighbouring cities with employees hired that satisfy your style of decoration. You only maintain the shop in your hometown.

It's a medium sized shop at the farthest corner of a busy street. The shop sits in between a book shop, that is run by an old man and a coffee shop that has recently opened. The shop itself has two floors. The lower level is mostly the counter area and certain non-floral arrangement pieces while the upper floor is completely filled with flowers of every variety. You have a small office on the lower level where you experiment on different arrangements whenever you have no orders to attend to.

You sat on your chair as your eyes wandered to the photo on the shelf. It was an old photo, of you and Mingyu when you were in middle school. Both friends were sticking to each other, Mingyu’s hands wrapped securely around your shoulder while you could barely reach your hands around him. The smiles wide. You could almost hear the giggles through the picture. Your smile was soft, as if you were shy from all this affection while Mingyu gave his infamous lopsided smile that showed his sinful canines.

Did you mention that you had a crush on Mingyu? No right?

Well, that was one of the reasons you distanced yourself because you knew Mingyu would never reciprocate your feelings and that would probably ruin the friendship you both had. You were also scared of heartbreak because in your mind, Mingyu could never fall for you. That was something you have buried deep in yourself but now it seems to resurface.

The thought of Mingyu marrying is gnawing the inside of your skin. You knew this day would come and you have always imagined yourself to be fine with it. You were sure that the crush was just a stupid uproar of emotions but now hearing the news, your insides churned. You were not at all ready to watch Mingyu marry someone else. It did seem selfish because you were the one to broke the friendship but now, you can't help the feeling of anxiousness.

A knock on the door brought you out of your thoughts as you whispered a soft 'come in'. Your employee opened the door and walked in.

"Noona, Mr. Kim's son is here to discuss about the floral arrangements.", said Chan.

You stared at him wide eyed and then replied in a stammering voice, "A-Ask him to sit down. I will be out in a second."

You shooed your employee away as you drank some water and took deep breathes. You had no idea why the mere thought of coming face to face with Mingyu made you such a mess. It’s not like the former knows about your feelings but you were scared to even think about that. After a quick pep talk, you decided to open the door and walk to the storefront.

The moment you came round the corner, you saw Mingyu sitting there. Your steps halted as you took the guy in. Mingyu has no doubt grown even more taller, probably above 6 feet. He doesn't wear shabby clothes anymore. He is dressed in a shirt and pants for god's sake. And he is bulked up. Your eyes racked his entire form and you were in awe at how big and strong his arms looked as they strained against the fabric of the shirt when he pushed his hair back. The rolled sleeves made you go crazy. You gulped and proceeded forward as if nothing was bothering you.

"Hello Mingyu-ssi.", your voice came out breathier than expected.

Mingyu's head shot up to you, his eyes going wide as he widely smiled.

"I didn't know I would have the honour of meeting the CEO of ___'s bloom room.", Mingyu teased as he got up and forwarded his hand for a handshake.

You stared at his hand for a few seconds before forwarding your own ones for a handshake. The former's grip so firm that it had your head reeling. Your hands weren’t that small but still got totally engulfed in the warmth of Mingyu's palm. You quickly retracted away from the warmth, and nervously chuckled.

"It has been a while I see. What can I do for you?", you asked in a professional tone.

Mingyu smiled and replied, "Well I came here to see some of your best floral arrangements. I will click few pictures and show them to Yuna for confirmation."

The name brought you back on earth. The way Mingyu casually said the name cleared every doubt you had. You did have a small hope that it was Mingyu's brother who was getting married but guess not. Mingyu won't call his brother's fiancé by her name this casually. Hence, Mingyu was surely getting married and you were basically lusting over a married man. Ignoring the sinking feeling in your stomach, you asked Mingyu to follow you to the upper floor of the shop.

The upper floor of the shop was full of flowers of every kind. From roses of at least 40 different colours to orchids that are mostly shipped from other areas. Mingyu walked through the entire floor, observing every flower and asking questions about the meaning of each one.

"Wow you know a lot about flowers.", Mingyu commented.

You rolled your eyes and replied, "That's literally my job Kim."

Mingyu laughed at your arrogance and said, "Show me some of your arrangements."

You nod your head as you walk up to this big cabinet and bring out a thick file that has pictures of every floral arrangement you have ever made. You keep it on the table and open it to the page which has the wedding section in it. Passing it over to Mingyu for him to have a look, you stand there nervously.

Mingyu skims through the arrangements and pauses on one, "Tell me about this."

You bend over to look at the one he is pointing. It's a simple arrangement, using mostly roses and few carnations. You explain how each rose shows a different kind of affection and the red and pink carnations simply mean love and attraction. Mingyu then scans over to the more exotic sections and stops on another one. This time it has a special variety of orchid in it, along with few roses and baby's breath. You heartily explained every flower and how they were woven together to make these arrangements.

You then decide to show him a live example of the flowers you arrange and went inside the store room to bring out a massive arrangement that you made recently for a big wedding.

"Well, this one was made by me so that I can send pictures to the other store I have in nearby city. They made a replica of it for one of our customers.", you explained.

You placed the arrangement on the table and were going to step aside when Mingyu came and stood behind you. The distance so less as Mingyu towered over your head, slightly bending a little to examine the flowers. The way Mingyu's hot breath fanned right near your right ear, caused an uproar of goosebumps all over your body.

He whispered right behind your ear, "Wow this one is beautiful.", the low timbre of his voice causing you to melt right on the spot. You had no idea how someone could affect you on this level. You really wanted to ignore the uproar of butterflies in your belly but with Mingyu being like this, it was tougher than you thought.

You cleared your throat and softly nudged Mingyu to move away as you walked to the other end of the table to pick up the file and place it back to where it was. Taking a deep breath, you walk up to Mingyu to pick up the arrangement and safely place it in its glass case.

Honestly, you had no idea why Mingyu wants to know so much about the floral arrangements. Normally when people do come to the shop, they just allow you to choose one and if the arrangement looks pretty then they go with it. At most times it is as simple as roses and few carnations. No one has ever asked you the meaning of the flowers you use.

On the other hand, you were pleased that Mingyu was asking you about the flowers. You always had a passion about knowing information related to different flowers. There was a time when you would blabber all day about different flowers that you learned from the internet. Your mother and sister would actually beg you to shut up about it. After you went through a harsh breakup just a year back, you had stopped talking so passionately about flowers. Your ex never tolerated it and would often joke about your job. You being stupid, ignored the flaws and that was your biggest mistake.

"____?", Mingyu's voice and strong grip on your shoulder brought you out of your thoughts.

"Huh? Oh, were you saying something?", you asked dumbly.

"Yeah. I was asking your permission to click pictures of the arrangements.", informed Mingyu.

You nodded and said, "Uhm you can do that or I can send you the digital copy of the ones you selected."

Mingyu's eyes sparkled at the idea and he enthusiastically nodded, "Yes that would be great!"

You took Mingyu down to your office and made him sit on a chair across your own seat. You opened the files that were separated by the types and began searching the ones Mingyu asked for.

Meanwhile Mingyu's eyes wandered around the small room in which the two of you were seated in. Mingyu has always admired the passion that you had for floral arrangements. Even when you both were in high school, you would talk all day about various flowers and it really made Mingyu smile. Your eyes would light up whenever you talked about your favourite flowers and that was what Mingyu loved the most.

When he entered the shop, he had made up his mind to not get awkward when he comes face to face with you. The fight you both had in the end of high school still lingers on his mind and he has still no idea why you distanced yourself. He knew how everyone talked shit about you but he never allowed those bad stuffs to get in between the friendship. Mingyu was lost without you.

When he waited for you to walk up to him while he was seated at the storefront, he thought he was going to be fine with it. But the moment he saw you, his knees grew weak. You looked beautiful, like you always had. In high school, you were extremely shy and would always wear baggy clothes and a messy bun. No one really looked at you in the same way that they looked at other girls. You were only included in a conversation if someone needed help with something and that always boiled Mingyu’s blood. He was somehow glad that no one had a crush on you because deep down Mingyu did nurture one.

As you walked up to him wearing a soft peach button up shirt along with white pants, he knew he was a goner. You had always had these soft curls that extended up to your waist which Mingyu adored. Your soft delicate features, big almond eyes and pink cheeks just made Mingyu go crazier.

Now sitting across you in this small office, he couldn't help but wander his eyes to the different prizes and pictures that adorn the walls. He scans through the various prizes, each signifying the excellency of your craftsmanship. His eyes paused on a frame amidst the big certificates. The frame itself is a bit old and also the picture framed in it. He squints his eyes for a better look and that's when he sees it.

"I-Is that our picture?", he asked involuntarily.

You visibly malfunction as you give a weak nod without even sparing Mingyu an eye. You really thought you were going to combust from embarrassment. You had forgotten about the picture and now you somewhat regret it. When no response comes from Mingyu, you panic and look up to check on your guest.

Mingyu's eyes were fixated on that frame as his eyes flickered with a small feeling of want and desperation. He really hated the distance that was created between you both and now seeing that you still thought him to be important, made his heart stutter.

"I hated how we drifted apart.", Mingyu said when he sensed a worried pair of eyes on him.

You had already forwarded all the pictures to the phone number that Mingyu gave. You closed your laptop and without even thinking, move forward to hold Mingyu's hand. You have always been sensitive to Mingyu's feelings. You could easily guess when the latter was feeling vulnerable.

"Yaa Mingyu-ah, we were kids. It’s fine. We can again start again as friends.", you softly smiled.

"Hello, I am ___.", you playfully informed and waited for Mingyu to introduce himself.

Mingyu gave a wet laugh as he wiped his tears and said, "I am Kim Mingyu."

Your heart swelled as you smiled widely, "Can we be friends?"

Mingyu laughs and nods, "Yes we can be."

You both talk for a while, catching up on everything. Mingyu talks about the wedding with hearts in his eyes. He is apparently actively taking part to make sure that nothing goes wrong. You were no stranger to the passion that Mingyu emitted whenever he did something. Seeing Mingyu talk about his wedding with such utmost care made your insides churn. You mentally scolded yourself for not being happy for your best friend but deep down you hated how you lost your chance to confess what you felt anymore.

"So, ____, any relationships?", asked Mingyu as he sipped on the cold drink that you offered.

You hated how easily the nickname rolled of Mingyu's tongue and how it made you instantly blush.

"You are blushing! Who is it?", asked Mingyu feigning happiness.

"No one currently. I broke up with my ex just last year.", you informed with a sad tone.

Mingyu nodded his head and asked, "Who was it then?"

"His name was Mark.", you said, the name tasting bitter on your tongue.

"Why did you both break up?", came the next question.

This was the question you dreaded. You hated reliving the moments through the stories and so at most times you avoided the topic of your sunken relationship. Mingyu nudged you a bit as it brought you back to the present. He repeated the question just to make sure that you caught on it.

"Uhm nothing its uhm he was a bit toxic and then he cheated so I broke up.", you answered, clearly not sure why you were blabbering.

Mingyu visibly stiffened as he said through gritted teeth, "I would have his head if I meet him someday."

You could see the anger in his eyes. It made you laugh as you tried to pacify the situation. It did break your heart when you broke up with Mark but you were much happier now with your job and single life.

The conversation came to an end when Chan came in and informed about a customer waiting for you. Bidding goodbyes, you went out to see him off and Mingyu promised to visit again with the decisions that Yuna has made.

________

Two days passed by in a daze. You were mostly busy with orders and making new kinds of arrangements to put in your monthly magazine. Every month you published a digital magazine which has unique arrangements exclusively made by you. Many people from different areas buy those arrangements and it helps you boost the sale. You informed your mother about the encounter with Mingyu which made her extremely happy.

Mingyu came to the shop the next day to inform about the ones that were selected. He gave the number of orders and paid a certain amount in advance. You quickly noted down the order and the delivery date.

After small talking for a while, Mingyu asked, "When do you close?"

You didn't quite understand the reason of the question but answered nevertheless, "Around 5."

Mingyu smiled mischievously and said, "Let's go to the new restaurant that has opened in the area. My treat."

Your heart stuttered a bit. You were not sure if you should allow yourself to be this close to Mingyu. He was very kind to you and the way he talked with so much tenderness, made your heart suffer. You were trying hard to not fall more for this married man but the way Mingyu expectantly looked at you with starry eyes, made you agree to the plan.

"Fine. Let's go.", you sighed and Mingyu clapped enthusiastically.

The day went by agonizingly slow. You had to attend to a very arrogant customer who hated every flower arrangement that you showed and finally settled on not buying anything after wasting almost 2 hours. Then you had to work on Mingyu's order and while cutting the stem, your finger accidently grazed at the edge of the blade, causing a blood massacre on your desk and papers. You quickly cleaned everything up and took a quick shower in the restroom itself. You secured the wound with a band-aid and wore the outfit you had asked Chan to bring from your home. You weren’t wearing anything fancy today for your work fit so you wanted to at least look presentable for the dinner place.

Sharp at 5 pm, a car stopped in front of the shop. You were just closing everything when there was the sound of the door opening. You switched off the lights of the office room, and came out into the front area only to find Mingyu leaning against the door frame of the shop, mindlessly scrolling on his phone. He was wearing a white shirt and black dress pants. The tie loosened to give him a more laid-back fit and his hair was styled which made his face look even more sculpted.

You gulped as you controlled your desire to run your fingers all over Mingyu's body. Walking up to Mingyu, you gave him a soft tap on his arm to notify him that you were ready to go.

"Wow you clean up good, ____-ah.", complimented Mingyu to which you playfully hit him and ignored the blush that rose on your cheeks.

Mingyu's car was parked just outside the shop. It was a beautiful car with very slick design. You didn't know much about cars but this one looked expensive as hell. Mingyu walked up to it and unlocked the door, opening the passenger door to allow you to settle in.

"You have a nice car.", you said as soon as Mingyu settled on the driver's seat.

"Thanks. I love this car so much.", Mingyu glowed due to the compliment as he drove both of you to the restaurant.

Mingyu couldn't take his eyes off you the whole ride. According to him, you were looking breathtakingly beautiful. When you walked up to him after closing your shop, Mingyu had to control himself from draping his arms around your waist and pulling you close. Mingyu always knew that he had feelings for you but never really got a chance to actually ask you out. Now that he was back for good, thanks to his brother's wedding, he can take all his time to win you back.

The exterior of the restaurant seemed very calming as trees decorated the driveway. Mingyu got out of the car first after parking it and held your door for you to come out.

"Reservation under Mr. Kim?", asked Mingyu as soon as he entered the restaurant along with you. You bowed gently to the waiter as you handed your coat to him. Then you both settled on one of the tables and silently skimmed through the menu card.

After ordering some food, you both sat in silence waiting for one of you to speak. The silence wasn't uncomfortable but you felt your heart rate increase every time you looked at Mingyu. Mingyu was looking around the restaurant, trying to take it all in but all you could do was admire him.

"They successfully made a very cozy place. Isn't it ____?", asked Mingyu finally after his wandering eyes zeroed on your face.

You nodded and said, "Yes. It's very beautiful here."

After what felt like hours, the order arrived. The once empty table was now filled with delicious cuisines that smelled like heaven. Your mouth watered as you beamed. Mingyu giggled at how cute you were acting as he got up to serve you the dinner.

"Ah Mingyu-ah! I can do it myself.", you said, trying to stop him.

"What? I invited you here! How can I let you do that?", winked Mingyu as he calmly plated the food.

The food was absolutely delicious and you moaned as soon as you took a bite of the tender chicken. Your eyes closed as your head fell back trying to remember this feeling of delicious food.

Mingyu couldn't help but trace an invisible line along your lips and down your neck. The sound of your moans from the taste of the food, went straight to a part of Mingyu he can't even explain. Chugging a bit of water, he took another bite of the food but all he could think of was tasting your lips.

"Oh, before I forget!", you exclaimed as you took out a small gift-wrapped box from your purse.

"There you go.", you handed it to him with a hesitant smile.

"What is this? I didn't bring a gift for you.", Mingyu pouted.

"Oh no. This is for the wedding. A congratulatory gift?", you quickly explain, slightly embarrassed under his intense scrutiny.

"Why are you giving it to me?", a confused Mingyu asked.

You stared at him dumbfoundedly, "What do you mean?"

There was a moment of silence before Mingyu's eyes went wide and he started laughing heartily. His laugh confused you even more as all you could do was stare and wait for Mingyu to explain why he was laughing.

"My dear ____-nie, did you think that I am getting married?", teased Mingyu.

Your eyes went wide, "You are not!?"

Mingyu moved his head in a definitive no and said, "No you idiot. My brother is getting married. He is also a Kim, remember?"

"But...but you call your brother's wife's name so casually.", you pointed out.

"That's because she is my friend. We went to the same college and when my brother went to stay with me for a year for his job, he fell in love with her.", explained Mingyu.

"You didn't mention that.", you accused Mingyu as you crossed your hands over your chest and pouted.

"I thought you knew. Everyone in town knows about it.", Mingyu said as he laughed.

"Geez fine. Just give the gift to Minhyuk hyung then.", you said as you sat up straight.

Mingyu raised his hand and asked for a bill and said, "You are seriously so dumb wow."

You couldn't say anything as you grumbled. You really thought that Mingyu was getting married. A part of you felt a sense of relief as you thought that you still had a chance to confess but the other part was not ready to face the consequences of the confession.

After the bill was paid by Mingyu who skilfully didn't even let you see the amount and just said, "I invited you."

After settling in the car, you decided to tease him. The car was still in the parking area since Mingyu was still getting settled in the car after putting both of the coats in the backseat.

"It’s sad honestly. I thought that finally I would get a chance to be someone's grooms-lady at their wedding.", you teased Mingyu.

Mingyu looked at you and with stern eyes which then turned into a mischievous glint. He then abruptly came close, his face just inches apart as one of his hands went up to your waist and settled there. All the teasing and plotting that you had in your head vanished as all you could feel was the warmth of Mingyu’s hand that grazed up and down your waist.

You gulped and whispered, "Wha- What are you doing?"

"I don't know about grooms-lady but you could be my lady. How does that sound?", Mingyu thickly whispered in your ear.

You whimpered at the sensation as you managed to say, "And how are you planning to do that?"

Mingyu smirked as he could see the bravery drain out of your face inch by inch. He has noticed the way you looked at him and he really didn't want to miss the chance.

"First, I would like to kiss you. Like right now. After that if you give me permission, then I will take you back to my apartment.", Mingyu explained in a steady voice but the lust was pretty much visible in the way he eyed you up and down.

Your entire body was on fire. You squirmed under the hot gaze of Mingyu. Mingyu pulled you in for a passionate kiss. It was all hot and heavy, trying to consume the other. Your brain was fogged entirely, clouded by the smoke of fire burning between the two of you.

The kiss left your mind in shambles as you breathed heavily.

"Do you want to go back to my apartment love?", asked Mingyu in a raspy voice and all you could do was nod. Your mouth was closed shut as your mind was clouded with lust.

"Please take me Gyu.", you finally spoke, in a lust laden voice as you looked at Mingyu with eyes feigning innocence.

Mingyu tongued the inside of his cheek before sliding himself back onto the seat and roared the engine of the car back to life. Meanwhile your hands traced his forearms, skimming up his biceps and then down.

"You are so big Gyu.", you whispered almost to yourself.

The drive to the apartment was painfully long. The moment Mingyu entered the lift with you, his hands shifted up to your waist and pulled you flush to his sturdy chest. The gentle yet firm grip, pulled a breathy gasp out of you. Normally, you would be embarrassed about being so turned on by such minimal action, but not now. Not when you knew Mingyu was going to turn you into putty in his hands.

!!SMUT WARNING!!

You both entered the empty apartment and Mingyu quickly locked the door before pushing your front against the door while pressing against your ass.

Mingyu's lips grazed behind your ear as he whispered, "Don't you feel it love?"

Your eyes slipped shut and your head fell back against his shoulder while he mouthed over the sensitive spots on your neck.

"Feels good, yeah?" Mingyu said, voice low. You struggled to even nod.

"Tell me, ____."

"Mm-mph, good, feels good," you breathed out, chest constricting and stomach turning as Mingyu's right hand made its way over your tummy and dipped lower and lower.

"Mingyu, please.", you didn't even know what you were asking for now.

Mingyu let out a cocky snort, which you would have been more irritated by had he not finally reached below your waist and grazed his palm across your achingly aroused core.

Your hips bucked instantly, already feeling sweat bead at your hairline. Working his hand up and down your clothed cunt, over the flimsy dress that you wore, at a dizzyingly slow pace, putting pressure in all the right areas, while the other hand caresses the dip in your waist.

Mingyu pulled you over to the nearby couch. He sat there on the couch and made you settle on his thighs, chests pressed against each other. You slowly moved your hips rhythmically, moaning and groaning at the feeling of the thick thighs against your clothed core.

"Feels good right?", asked Mingyu as he gripped your waist and created even more friction between the bodies.

"You are such a dirty girl ____. Coming just from my thighs. Gonna make my pants all messy right baby?", panted Mingyu as you increased your pace.

Just as you felt yourself nearly reach the peak, Mingyu lifted both of you up from the couch, leaving you whining. Before you could open your mouth to complain, Mingyu picked you up effortlessly and took you to the bedroom before throwing you on the bed gently but firmly. Pulling your legs around his waist, Mingyu pulled you in for a passionate kiss. It was all teeth and tongue as he devoured your mouth like a starving man. Familiar calloused fingers stroked your thighs, suddenly gripping them tightly.

You felt yourself get wet from the way Mingyu's big hands wrapped around you so effortlessly. You threw your arms around Mingyu's neck while the latter placed a hand on the small of your back to support you, pushing you closer in a way that made your clothed cores rub against one another, leaving you shamelessly rutting for more.

Mingyu got up and tugged his half-opened shirt out of the way. Your eyes went wide as you stared at the toned chest. Mingyu was bulked up and in all the right places. His biceps were huge and sturdy while his chest was so perfectly crafted that it made your mouth water.

"Fuck, you are so big.", you almost moaned when you felt the ripple of muscles beneath your delicate fingers as you traced a line across Mingyu's chest. Mingyu laughed as he dipped again to trail kisses down your body, leaving marks wherever he pleased. He cupped your one breast with his one palm, massaging and twisting the nipple to send delicious shocks all across your body while his mouth sucked the other one with a new found determination which left you writhing under his hot gaze.

Your brain was fogged entirely. Mingyu's hand dipped below your back to firmly grip your ass, which caused you to jerk forward with a squeak.

Mingyu broke the kiss and asked, "You want this?"

You nodded fervently, lips swollen and red, head reeling with need.

"Words, baby."

A whine, then, "Please, Gyu, need you."

Mingyu smiled into a quick kiss planted on your lips. "So good at listening, baby." Mingyu took your both wrists and held them with his one hand abruptly, riling you up even further, if that was possible at this point.

He stepped back slightly and raked his eyes over you for a moment.

"You're gorgeous."

You squirmed and reddened under his lustful gaze, a dazed smile on your face, "Click a picture. It would last longer"

Mingyu returned the crooked grin, "Can't risk anyone else seeing you like this."

You blushed at the possessiveness that Mingyu portrayed. You always liked being with someone who will have eyes only on you and seeing how Mingyu took you all in like you were a goddamn masterpiece, made you even more shy.

After pulling back and rummaging through his bedside drawer and securing a condom, Mingyu returned and kneeled in between your legs. He slowly tugged at your panties, pulling it down. You sucked in through your teeth at the chill on your feverishly hot skin. In this way, you felt incredibly vulnerable and shy all of a sudden, flinging your arms over your eyes to cover your crimson face.

The moment Mingyu realized that you were trying to hide your face, his grip on your hands were back as he looked at the squirming you firmly and said, "Don't look away. I want you to watch me while I devour you."

You gulped.

"Understood darling?", Mingyu demanded.

You nodded but Mingyu wasn't satisfied.

"Words my girl. Words."

"Yes. Yes sir.", you smirked mischievously.

All the blood from Mingyu's brain went to his dick the moment he registered what you called him.

"Keep calling me that and you will see the consequences.", Mingyu warned.

"I would love that sir.", you said again and all hell broke loose.

Mingyu teased the pussy and whispered a “so wet for me” before a slicked-up finger was pushed in through your entrance. The wind was knocked out of your lungs, quickly stolen in a kiss by Mingyu, as the finger breached.

"You, okay?"

"You're not gonna break me, Gyu.", you said, far weaker and more desperate than you had intended for it to come out.

"We will see about that.", Mingyu said with a smirk.

Huh? Before you could register, Mingyu's finger slowly pushed in and out, causing every nerve in your brain to disconnect. You couldn't even remember the last time someone made you feel this good, if ever.

Mingyu gripped the milky flesh of your thigh while sliding a second finger in beside the first one. Your hips jerked, which Mingyu moved to pin down to the soft plush of the bed.

The pace of his hand was excruciatingly slow, seemingly determined to unravel the very fibre of your flesh and bones in the most glorious way.

Your mind was covered by a haze, and after what could have been a couple minutes, or many, Mingyu slid a third finger in.

You choked out a moan, babbling Mingyu's name and begging for some merciful relief.

"So perfect for me, ____," Mingyu pressed deeper inside until he was massaging that sweet spot while simultaneously scissoring his fingers open ever so slightly. You whined loudly, back curving and hands scrambling to grab onto the well-muscled arms splitting you apart at the seams.

"Gyu, please, I need- now, please."

The hand previously holding your hip moved to your thigh, spreading you open further.

"You can come like this, yeah? You're so good, ____, so good at listening to me."

Your brain melted like wax out of your ears, skull hollowed out so all you could think about was Mingyu's voice echoing in your headspace.

"Come on, angel, don't think about it, just feel it."

With a noisy cry, you gasped out Mingyu's name before coming hard, creaming Mingyu’s fingers, legs twitching in Mingyu's grasp as you came undone.

Your climax did nothing to stop Mingyu, as he immediately lined his own cock to your cunt and slammed. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, shut with overwhelming pleasure and the sting of overstimulation.

"You can give me another, right angel?" Mingyu’s hips bucked forward with such sheer precision and strength that it left you in a babbling mess. You nodded weakly, now panting and gasping as you whispered Mingyu's name like some sort of holy prayer.

Mingyu gently kissed you, taking in your moans as he moved with a new found rhythm. You moaned when Mingyu hit the right spot and that did it for him. Mingyu hit the spot again and again as he made sure you were maintaining eye contact.

"You see how I ruin you angel.", Mingyu said in a hoarse voice.

Your eyes were glazed over and unfocused, lost in a hazy pleasure. You watched as Mingyu's hips rhythmically sunk into your cunt as your thighs quivered and stuttered out little moans each time he made contact.

After what felt like a lifetime, you finally felt your release coaxing again.

"You are going to cum aren't you baby?", whispered a sweaty Mingyu right in your ear.

"I can feel you squeezing my dick, baby. Fuck.", he moaned as his rhythm staggered.

You moaned because you were unable to even think about what to say. Racing your high you made sure to see Mingyu and how both of you fell apart almost at the same time as a garbled-out moan filled the space of the moan. Mingyu groaned as he released his own load and fell on you trying to catch his breath.

He brushed the hair stuck to your moist forehead out of the way before planting an intimate but delicate kiss to your wet lips.

!!SMUT ENDS!!

After resting for a few minutes, Mingyu got up to bring a cloth dipped in warm water to clean you and change the bedsheets before pulling you both under the warm embrace of a blanket.

You snuggled into Mingyu's naked chest as the warmth almost lulled you to sleep.

"____-ah.", whispered Mingyu to which all you could do was hum.

"I really like you. I am sorry I never confessed to you sooner. When you distanced yourself, I was a complete mess. I tried to contact you but every time I thought about it, I realized that it might make you feel uncomfortable. It was a relief to me when I saw that you were single. I knew I had to take the chance.", confessed Mingyu.

"I am sorry for distancing myself. It’s foolish but I have liked you since high school and that scared me. I really thought that you would hate me or reject me and so the best I could do was leave. When I thought that you were getting married, I knew I had lost my chance but then you were so sweet and kind that I almost thought that it meant something. I am glad you took the initiative.", you blushed as you confessed.

"So, still thinking about being my grooms-lady for the wedding?", teased Mingyu.

You giggled as you planted a kiss on Mingyu's lips and said, "I rather be your lady."

_______________________

Author's note: This is the longest smut I have ever written. I have been noting down inspirations from so many fanfictions and finally I was able to write this. I just feel extremely awkward when I write smut because I feel like I am not writing good so the inspirations helped a lot. Please do show it some love and I will be back with many other one-shots. Love y'all

#seventeen #mingyu x reader #mingyu #mingyu seventeen #mingyu smut #mingyu scenarios #mingyu svt #mingyu fluff #mingyu fanfic #mingyu imagines #kpop fanfic

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anakinstwinklebunny · 7 months ago

Note

hiii

so idk if your requests are open but could you please write some hcs about clayton Beresford as a husband and dad

Thank youuu ❤️

☆*: .｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*☆

HUSBAND/DAD!CLAY HEADCANONS

TW: at some point it contains filthy, crazy sexual content, so if you're sensitive to that or don't feel comfortable with it, please do not read it for your own safety and comfort.

Author's note: of course my requests are open! I just LOVE seeing notification from my inbox, so thank you very much <3 hope you like it

MARRIAGE

Clayton Beresford who after two delightful years of your relationship proposed to you. He took you to the fancy restaurant, and since it was something you did often, you hadn't have any suspicious. But have you thought about marrying him? Of course, yet, you wanted to give him time. You knew how his earlier marriage ended so it'd be out of your character to even suggest him taking your relationship to another level. But the ring you got was out of your wildest dreams - 4 carat round cut diamond ring that seemed to shine more than every star in the sky

Clayton Beresford who got even more all-about-you after wedding. Even more love making with no care in the world, long honeymoon, even more spent time together just more everything

Clayton Beresford who, despite his demanding job, always makes time for you. He’s the type of husband who will surprise you with small gestures; like leaving sweet notes in your purse or sending you flowers (mostly to your workplace) randomly just to remind you that he’s thinking of you.

Clayton Beresford who loves planning spontaneous weekend trips to your favorite places. Whether it’s a cozy cabin in the mountains or a luxury hotel in the city, Clayton enjoys these escapes to focus solely on you without any distractions.

Clayton Beresford who's big on surprises. He might book a last-minute trip to Paris (or any place on earth), arrange for a private dinner on the rooftop of the restaurant's building or just in the place you'd not be able to pay by yourself. Or buy you that piece of jewelry you casually mentioned months ago.

Clayton Beresford who has a strong protective instinct. He always ensures you’re safe, and anyone who might pose a threat to you or your happiness would have to face his wrath.

Clayton Beresford who depended on you doing the grocery shopping since he had never done that before (however after a few times he gained knowledge);

Clay glanced away for just a second, but when he looked back, you were gone. His brow furrowed as he scanned the immediate area, stepping away from the cart to see if you had wandered behind another display. But there was no sign of you.

“Dammit,” he muttered under his breath, frustration creeping in as he quickened his pace, determined not to lose you. Not in this place.

He began weaving through the aisles, his eyes darting around in search of you, listening intently for any sound that might be your voice. But the supermarket was huge, and the weekend crowd made it even more overwhelming.

With a groan of annoyance, Clay pressed on, moving faster now, his heart racing a little at the thought of losing you in this sea of people. Then, suddenly, his eyes caught a glimpse of you between rushing people. A glimmer of hope flickered in his chest as he turned sharply toward the sound.

You were standing by the dairy section, casually chatting on the phone as you picked up items. Relief washed over him, and he silently thanked whatever forces led him to find you.

Like a lost puppy or a child who had been separated from their parent, he hurried over to you, his earlier frustration melting into a quiet sense of relief.

Reaching for a carton of milk, you sensed someone close behind you. Turning around, you found Clay standing there, his expression a mix of worry and boyish vulnerability that made you smile. It was as if he had been a little kid lost in a big mall again.

You handed him the shopping list, tapping the line where it said 'bananas' with a knowing look.

Clay accepted the list with a determined nod. He was a grown man—he could handle picking up some bananas.

But when he reached the produce section, his confidence wavered as he stared at the six different types of bananas on display, his frown deepening in confusion.

It was supposed to be a simple task: grab the bananas and return to you. Yet here he was, staring at the display like they were some exotic species he had never encountered.

He didn't recognize any of the types, and he had no clue which one you wanted. So, with a loosing sigh, he carefully picked a bunch of yellow bananas, added some mini ones, and then tossed in a few green ones for good measure. Feeling a bit more confident, he placed them all in the cart and made his way back to you. A small, proud smirk forming on his lips as he approached.

“I got them,” he announced, a hint of pride in his voice as if he had just completed a great feat.

You glanced down at the cart, noticing the remarkable assortment. A smile tugged at your lips as you looked back at him. "Baby, but... they're all different kinds."

His smirk faded slightly as a flush of embarrassment crept up his neck. He glanced at the cart, then back at you “I know,” he admitted, his voice soft and a bit self-conscious. “I wasn’t sure which ones you wanted, so I just… grabbed a few to be safe.”

Your heart melted at his effort, and you stood on your toes to press a tender kiss to his cheek. "C'mon, we'll figure out these bananas together."

His cheeks flushed a deeper red at your affectionate gesture, and he looked down at you with warm, loving eyes, a shy smile curving his lips.

“Okay,” he murmured, feeling content as he started pushing the cart again, this time with you walking beside him.

PREGNANCY

Clayton Beresford who was shocked yet thrilled when he found out you're pregnant. He was always gentle with you but from that day he got on another level of doing everything in his power to make sure you're safe, happy and comfortable

Clayton Beresford who seemed to be hypnotized by your changing body (so obviously loved to have his hands on it, and you loved when he did)

Clayton Beresford who had to deal with your neediness for attention/affection;

"Baby, I'm already late. You know I can't stay longer," he sighs, slipping on his black cloak, the fabric rustling as he moves with familiar urgency.

"Are you sure you can't stay just a little longer?" you pout, leaning against the doorframe of your mudroom

He chuckles softly and walks over to you, wrapping his strong arms around your waist to pull you close to his chest "Baby, I'd love nothing more than to stay," he murmurs "But…" he sighs again, the weight of responsibility heavy in his voice, "you know I can't be late twice in a row."

He presses a lingering kiss to your forehead, his muscles firm against your softer frame. The warmth of his embrace makes you want to hold onto him just a little longer.

"But I thought you'd make love to me all morning," you tease, your voice soft and playful "and then spoil me with a big breakfast."

His eyes softened after his large hands roam over to cup your pregnant belly, his fingers gently tracing over the curve "That was the original plan," his lips formed into a knowing smirk. His hands linger on your body, as if memorizing every inch before he has to let go. "But you know I've got to go to work…"

"But what if the baby comes out while you're not here?" you pout, feeling the warmth of his knuckles as they gently trace over your swollen belly.

He chuckles softly at your worry, his lips curling into a reassuring smile. He steps back slightly, his hands slipping from your waist to admire the sight of your pregnant form. "Babe, we've talked about this. The baby's not coming today," he says with a confident grin, glancing down at your round belly before meeting your concerned gaze.

"Yeah... right," you mumble, still not entirely convinced.

He can't help but smirk at how endearingly moody you are, especially when you pout like that. With a gentle touch, he wraps his fingers around your chin, tilting your face up so you're looking directly into his smiling eyes. "Don't give me that look," he murmurs softly, his voice filled with warmth as he leans in closer, his breath brushing against your lips.

"I'm gonna miss you," you whisper, your voice barely audible as the reality of his departure sinks in.

His gaze locks onto your big, sparkling eyes as he gently cups your cheeks. "I'm going to miss you too, baby. But I have to go to work," he murmurs with a tender smile, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips once more.

"I love you, you know," your voice lingering, trying to stretch out the moment just a little longer.

His smile deepens, touched by your efforts to keep him close, but he's all too aware of the ticking clock. "I love you too, more than anything. But if I don't leave now, I'll be late for a meeting with the board... and I can't afford to do that again," his tone a mix of regret and urgency as he gives you a sympathetic look, hoping you understand.

"But you're their boss," you protest softly, a pout forming on your lips.

He sighs, knowing that leaving without giving you something special will likely leave you moody for the rest of the day. Even though he’s pressed for time, he quickly pivots. "How about I give you a kiss for the road?" he suggests, a playful glint in his eyes as he shifts the mood.

"Okay," you reply, a small smile tugging at your lips.

He smiles back, his hand finding its way to your cheek once more, tenderly cradling your face. He pauses, taking a moment to get lost in your sparkling blue eyes, savoring the connection before slowly closing his own and leaning in. His lips meet yours in a slow, loving kiss

Clayton Beresford who makes sure to lift up your pregnancy mood;

His heart sank at the sight of your tear-streaked face. Instantly, worry fills his eyes and he kneels beside you, his voice soft and full of concern. "Baby, what’s wrong?" He gently tilts your chin up with his fingers, urging you to meet his gaze.

"I feel so huge..." you murmur, your voice trembling with emotion.

"Baby, you know I love every part of you. Nothing could ever change that," he says tenderly, his words full of sincerity.

But your insecurities linger, and you turn to him, searching his face. "So you think I’m huge?" you ask, misinterpreting his silence as agreement.

He sighs again, feeling a pang of guilt at how vulnerable you are right now. Quickly, he tries to soothe your worries before they spiral. "No, no, love..." he insists, cupping your face with both hands, his thumbs brushing away the traces of your tears. "You’re not huge, you’re beautiful."

You glance down at your growing belly, frustration evident in your voice. "I barely fit into my pants."

He smiles softly, his gaze never leaving yours, understanding the deep-seated concerns you have about your changing body. "I know, sweetheart, I know," he murmurs, his thumb gently stroking your cheek. "But that’s just because of the incredible little life you’re carrying."

"You look absolutely radiant when you’re pregnant," he adds, his words filled with admiration, careful not to say anything that might upset you further.

"Yeah?" you sniffle, your voice small and uncertain.

He nods slowly, his eyes locked onto yours, full of love and reassurance. "Yeah, baby," he repeats softly. "You’re glowing, and you’re absolutely, stunningly beautiful. Anyone would be lucky to have you, pregnant or not."

"But what if after I push the baby out, I still look pregnant? And... and I have all these marks, and my body doesn’t go back to the way it was? And you'll leave me?"

His heart aches as he listens to your fears, unable to bear hearing you doubt the body he cherishes so deeply. "No, no, no, shhh, baby, no..." he murmurs urgently, his voice soothing as he tries to calm your spiraling thoughts. "I would never, ever leave you for that. My love for you knows no limits, nothing could change that."

His hands continue to tenderly stroke your face, his touch gentle and reassuring as he speaks. "I love you so much, sweetheart. The marks on your body from carrying our beautiful child—they'll only make me love you and your body even more."

"Yeah?" you sniffle, looking at him with tear-filled eyes.

his eyes filled with admiration and love as he nods "Yeah, baby. Because those marks are proof of your incredible strength, of the life you’ve nurtured for nine months.. and only an absolute goddess could manage that"

Clayton Beresford who every day remaided you how beautiful you are, what a treasure you are in his life that nothing could replace

Clayton Beresford who got more cuddly with you;

"Look at that… he’s a little boxer" his lips curved up as he felt the baby’s tiny movements beneath his fingertips. His voice was filled with awe, and there was a boyish excitement in his eyes that made you smile.

"He?" you asked, raising an eyebrow as you glanced up from your book. "How do you know it’s a boy?"

He shrugged, but the cheeky grin that spread across his features betrayed the certainty in his heart. He leaned closer, letting his chin rest on your bump. His touch was gentle, almost tingly at times while his long fingers made sure to memorize the path over your swollen skin

"Father’s instincts," he whispered

"Oh? Didn’t know you had those," you chuckled, your fingers threading through his tousled curls. There was something endearing about how intensely focused he was on your belly - his brow furrowed in concentration as he searched for more signs of the baby’s movements.

Clay still kept his, this time less wider, smile over his lips. He seemed to calm down under not only your touch but the feeling of your belly with his child right in his reach and right before his eyes. He shifted slightly, pressing his lips gently against your tummy. His lips lingered for a little longer, his expression changing to more surprised;

"Hush," he murmured softly, his hand stilling when he found the spot where the baby seemed to be resting. "I can sense him…"

Yet, the baby had quieted, and clay's lips formed into a pout. The frustration knitting his brows before he nuzzled to your belly "Can’t you encourage him to kick or something? I want to know that he’s alive…" he mumbled, his voice laced with a mix of concern and childish impatience (that you rarely saw before)

You couldn’t help but laugh softly at his earnestness. "Clay, how am I supposed to encourage him? Maybe he’s sleeping."

He groaned softly, looking up at you with those soulful eyes, making it impossible not to find him utterly endearing. He looked like a grumpy child who hadn’t received the attention he thought he deserved and it was both cute and hilarious

"Well, I don’t know," he muttered, his hand still drawing small circles on your belly. "Talk to him? Tell him how cool I am… maybe he’ll be excited then and want to say hi."

You rolled your eyes playfully, still stroking his curls. "Baby, don’t be ridiculous… he's probably sleeping."

He huffed in response, still pouting but clearly knowing you were right. The baby was just asleep, and there was nothing he could do but wait. Still, the idea of his child not acknowledging his presence seemed to tug at something deep within him.

"I just want him to know that I’m here too," he mumbled

You smiled down at him, your voice soothing as you reassured him. "I bet he does, clay."

"Just imagine how cute he’s gonna be," clay mused, his voice softening as he let himself drift into the fantasy of fatherhood. "A baby version of me, running around, being a menace to everyone…"

You smirked, raising an eyebrow. "What if it’s a girl?"

His hand paused for a moment, the weight of the thought catching him off guard. For a few seconds, his expression was blank as he processed the idea of having a daughter. Then, slowly, his usual cocky grin reappeared, but with a touch of tenderness that hadn’t been there before.

"A baby girl," he echoed, as if trying out the words. "She could get your looks, though. I wouldn’t mind that. The second most beautiful girl in the world… and daddy’s little princess."

Just then, he felt a light flutter beneath his palm. His eyes widened in surprise, lighting up like a child on Christmas morning, the pout completely erased by a wide grin "There you are…"

The baby seemed to respond to his voice, shifting slightly as if acknowledging his father’s presence. He continued to rub gently over your belly, his touch loving and protective, showering the area with soft kisses.

"Already responding to me," he whispered, a wave of satisfaction washing over him as he felt the tiny movements beneath his hands. "Smart baby…"

clayton continued to soothe your belly, his hands and lips moving in a calming rhythm until the baby settled back into stillness. Even as the baby quieted, he wasn’t ready to let go. He lingered, enjoying the feeling of being close to both of you, his heart full and content.

"Guess he’s asleep again…" he said softly, a hint of disappointment in his voice.

"Or maybe he’s just tired of you," you teased lightly, brushing a strand of hair away from his face.

His eyes widened in mock offense, his pout returning as he looked up at you, clearly not appreciating the joke. "Very funny," he grumbled, his frown deepening. "I am the most interesting person this baby will ever meet—"

But despite his grumbling, you could see the love and excitement in his eyes, the way he couldn’t wait to meet the little life growing inside you. And you knew, without a doubt, that he would be the best father this baby could ever ask for.

Clayton Beresford who spoiled you way more during your pregnancy. More presents without occasion, more affection, more cuddles, just more everything there was to give

Clayton Beresford who was there on most of your doctor appointments. If he had a busy schedule, which happened often, he then couldn't appear (but you didn't mind, since it was just doctor appointment to check on your and the child's health, nothing more so much important for him to be there everytime)

Clayton Beresford who was obsessed with making love to you during your pregnancy;

"youre-youre so big--" you mewl underneath him

"I am, aren't I?" he panted, his hands gripping your plump hips tightly. "And you're so fucking tight, sweetheart." His words spurred him on, pushing deeper inside you to hit that sweet spot over and over again.

your eyes barely could keep themselves open from the sensation of having him again in your hole. Who would have known that your pregnancy hormones would make you so horny you would cry to Clayton about it. And him, being such a generous gentleman who loved his wife with all his being, how could just leave you like that? When you sobbed, begged for his touch

"Don't close your eyes," he commanded softly "Open them. Let me see the look on your face when I'm inside you."

your eyes reluctantly opened, at least they lingered between half opened and half closed. A moan rumbled through your throat as you took in the sight of his muscles that ripped whenever his hold grew too much

"That's it," he panted, his eyes locked onto yours. "Let me hear you." Clayton's breath hitched as he felt her body tremble beneath him. The way you moaned and your completely swollen breasts jingled with each thrust was driving him wild. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum," he warned you, picking up the pace even more.

PARENTHOOD

Clayton Beresford who was there for you for the whole childbirth. Encouraging you, giving you support, etc. He'd insist you'd hold the baby first, not him. And before he'd even hold the newborn, he'd make sure you're all safe and everything's okay;

After making sure you held the newborn first and you were all okay, he had time to take the baby close to his chest, his large, strong arms cradling the fragile newborn bundle with a tenderness that belied his powerful frame. The baby’s skin was a delicate shade of pink, still wrinkled from the birth, and Clay couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming surge of emotion as he gazed down at the tiny life nestled against him. The baby was so small, so impossibly vulnerable, and it made something deep within him tremble and break.

Tears welled up in his eyes, blurring his vision as he gently stroked the baby’s cheek with a trembling hand. His touch was feather-light, his fingertips barely brushing the baby’s soft, downy skin and his hand looked enormous in comparison to the baby’s minuscule features.

“He’s so small…” he whispered, his voice cracking under the weight of his emotions. His throat tightened as he tried to hold back the tears threatening to spill over.

“Are you crying?” you asked softly, a tired smile playing on your lips as you rested after the long and exhausting delivery

He glanced up at you and he felt a single tear escape and trail down his cheek “…No—yes… maybe…” he admitted, a sheepish smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He quickly wiped the tear away with the back of his hand, but it was clear that his composure was unraveling. He returned his gaze to the baby in his arms, his expression softening as he ran a gentle finger over the baby’s tiny hand, marveling at how delicate and perfect it was.

When the newborn's hand wrapped around clay's finger, he felt like his new heart might explode from overwhelming feeling. It was so cute, the baby’s grip firm and warm

“He’s holding my finger…” he murmured, his voice filled with pure, unfiltered awe

The baby continued to cling to his finger, his tiny hand gripping the large digit with a determination that was both heartwarming and humbling. Clay smiled through tears and a mixture of pride and amazement shined in his eyes as he gently caressed the baby’s hand, utterly mesmerized by the strength in such a small being.

“Such a tight grip… I’ve already created a little warrior,” he mused with a soft chuckle, his voice laced with pride. He looked down at his son, his heart brimming with a love so profound it was almost overwhelming. “You’re going to be strong, just like your momma” he added, his tone filled with admiration.

“…You have your momma’s eyes, you know?” he whispered, his voice barely audible as a fresh wave of emotion washed over him. There was a hint of pride in his voice, but also something deeper, something reverent. The sight of those eyes, so familiar and yet so new, made him feel as though he was looking at a piece of you—a part of the woman he loved more than anything in the galaxy.

As if sensing the weight of the moment, the baby cooed softly, his tiny body wriggling uncomfortably against the confines of the blanket. You watched the first interaction between your husband and your child and it was the most endearing thing you experience. Delivery was hard, damn it hurt like hell, as if devil himself teared your insides but as soon as the baby was out, all the pain was forgotten

“You don’t like that, huh?” he murmured, his voice filled with amusement as he gently traced soothing circles over the baby’s cheek “I don’t blame you… I’d hate being swaddled too.”

Clayton Beresford who is the kind of dad who’s always one step ahead when it comes to the safety and well-being of your children. He’s vigilant about who they spend time with and ensures they grow up in the safest environment possible.

Clayton Beresford who, despite his often serious demeanor, has a major soft spot when it comes to his children. He’s not afraid to get down on the floor and play with them, and he’ll often indulge them in things other might not—like staying up a bit past bedtime for just one more story.

Clayton Beresford who enjoys spoiling his kids, whether it’s with the latest toys, gadgets, or extravagant birthday parties. However, he’s careful to balance this with teaching them the importance of gratitude and not taking things for granted.

Clayton Beresford who, if you have a daughter, is wrapped around her little finger. He’s the type of dad who will attend tea parties, help with ballet practice, and learn how to braid hair just to make her happy;

"Hold on, baby, I'm almost finished," he murmured, his voice a soft yet deep rumble as he focused on working his fingers through the strands of your daughter's hair.

"Maybe we should just ask Mommy," she whispered, her small voice carrying a hint of doubt.

"No, no," he shook his head gently, a determined glint in his eye. "We don’t need Mommy for a braid. Daddy can do it just fine."

Clay's fingers moved clumsily but with care, tugging her hair a bit too tightly at times. His brows furrowed in concentration as he carefully looped the strands together.

"But Mommy always likes to help," she insisted, her tone hopeful.

"Daddy likes to help too," he replied, his voice tender but resolute, wanting to prove himself to his little girl.

He paused for a moment, examining his work with a critical eye. The braid was far from perfect—slightly uneven and a little messy, held together by a hairband that seemed to be doing more of the work than the braid itself. But as he looked at it, a small, proud smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

"See? Not so bad, huh?"

Clayton Beresford who is big on teaching his children responsibility from a young age.

Clayton Beresford who made sure to pay attention to your kids after he came back from work. Even if he was extremely tired, he'd rather fall asleep with your baby boy in his arms than leaving you alone to deal with the children

Clayton Beresford who found you as his inspiration. You, with kids most of the time, still having energy to take care of him and the house. So, as soon as he changed his clothes after work, he replaced you in duties so you'd have your alone time.

Clayton Beresford who, if you had a son, played all the games the boy wanted. Like toys where the boy came up with some plot, plastic cars, playgrounds outside;

Clay sat on the floor, carefully stacking blocks into a tall tower while his son sat comfortably on his lap, his tiny hands occasionally reaching out to help—or hinder.

"What do you want to eat?" you asked softly from the kitchen doorway, watching the two with a fond smile.

Clay glanced up at you, a playful gleam in his eye. "You?" he teased, genuinely curious about your preference.

But before he could say more, the boy clumsily knocked over the tower with an excited shove, sending the blocks tumbling in all directions.

“Hey! You just destroyed Daddy’s masterpiece,” Clay said in mock offense, though his voice carried a warm, playful tone. He looked down at him, who was dissolving into giggles, his face scrunched up in pure joy.

"Well, I was thinking pasta... I'm really craving it," you said, your giggles mingling with theirs.

Clay's heart swelled as he watched you enjoy the moment just as much as he was. Turning back to the toddler, he gently poked his son’s side, earning more bubbly laughter from the little boy. “We don’t normally allow such behavior in the tower-building world,” he joked, his tone still light before turning his gaze to you "But pasta sounds good tho.."

With a grin, Clay stood up from the carpeted floor, scooping the boy up by his armpits and swinging him side to side, much to the toddler’s delight. "C'mon, you little silly guy, let's go help Mommy with dinner,"

Clayton Beresford who, no matter what interests or hobbies your kids have, is fully supportive. He’ll invest in lessons, equipment, or anything else they need to pursue their passions, always encouraging them to follow their dreams.

Clayton Beresford who, no matter how busy his life gets, always prioritizes family. He ensures that you and the kids know that you’re his number one priority, making time for family dinners, vacations, and just spending quality time together.

Clayton Beresford who propritazed your time together. His kids were important but you were more important. So, regularly he hired a babysitter (a trusted one), and took you out on dates (or on a vacation but then your parents took care of the children) so you could focus on each other and on the bond you share without screaming kids

Clayton Beresford ho didn't mind making you pregnant again (if you even wanted to be pregnant again);

"Fill this beautiful cunt with my seed once more?" He growled, plunging back into you with a single powerful thrust that made you both cry out in pleasure "you want that love? Be pregnant again?"

TAG LIST: @kingdomhate @ysrjune (sad about her not being her anymore..) @divineani @erosmutt @haydensprettyprincess @mistress-amidala @catnipaddictt @heartscone @haydensbbg @inneedsoffanfics @jediavengers @literally-izzy @anisluvrgirl @fuckmyskywalker @slutforfinnickodair @xhunnybeeex

(if you want to be removed or added then don't be shy and let me know 💋)

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lalunanymph · 6 months ago

Text

𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐃𝐄 𝟒: 𝐅𝐎𝐎𝐋, 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐇𝐈𝐌

after a scandal that rocks the entire nation, itadori 'ryomen' sukuna is forced to marry a girl chosen by his brother in order to straighten him out. but, what jin doesn't expect is how much he's willing to destroy everything he knows just to get his freedom back—even at the expense of breaking his wife's soul.

warnings: mean!sukuna, unrequited love, arranged marriage, extramarital affairs, explicit smut (sukunaeste AND sukunayn 🫣), mentions of drugs, mentions of affairs, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of conception, mentions of food, family tension, toxic family dynamics

masterlist | playlist

The day is bright, unseasonably warm for a wedding.

As the last guest trickles in and the church doors close, the organ strikes up and down the aisle walks a bride in a silky, form-fitting wedding dress, thick veil covering her exquisitely made up face. Her father looks striking next to her, tall and handsome in his charcoal gray suit. He kisses her hand and passes it to the man at the front of the altar, his smile betraying no hint of regret as he clasps her offered hand tightly.

The groom doesn’t stutter or mess up his vows. He’s clear-eyed and level-headed, handsome with just a hint of devilishness when he sweeps her into his arms, kissing her right in front of the entire congregation, cementing his willingness to love her for the rest of his life in front of God and her family.

What the heavens have joined, no man can destroy.

Those were the words echoing throughout the halls as they left the luxurious chapel, rows of Rolls Royces wrapped with ribbons and daisies waiting to take them back to the city—the bride’s favorite flowers specking the bright scene with dots of yellow and white, a touching new day for two families who were finally one.

Inside the car, away from the cameras and guests, you drop Sukuna’s hand the second he releases yours, and shift to the other end of the interior. He lets the space fester between the two of you, not bothering to even speak to you or ask how you were feeling now that his wedding band was wrapped around your finger.

Your mother told you she heard from Mrs. Gojo that Sukuna himself picked the band and stone, sparing no detail to his help.

In fact, she gleefully announces, he chose the venue, the music, the color scheme and cars that would bring you both back to Tokyo as a newlywed couple.

You’re dumbfounded.

It doesn't make any sense.

One glance at him now would disparage those rumors. Sukuna barely looks at you, preoccupied with the passing scene outside the car window. His side profile cuts a sharp outline amidst the fading scenery, and he turns to catch your stare, eyebrows raised.

“What?”

You flush and look away, clutching the stem of your bouquet tighter in your fists. “Nothing.”

He doesn’t comment on your lack of conversation, deciding to drop this matter.

All that’s left on today’s itinerary is the reception dinner and you’d both be free of this depressing charade. Smiling too much made your cheeks hurt, and you physically couldn’t feel your feet; the tight heels Okura-san bought nearly cut off your toes’ circulation.

Sukuna catches you wincing and he scoffs. “What now? You were fidgeting throughout the whole wedding ceremony.”

He doesn’t bother to speak nicely to you once your names are signed on the same page, resorting to his standard fare of rudeness and disappointment.

“My shoes hurt,” you complain. He rolls his eyes.

“Why did you have to wear them?”

Because it’s the style you like, you want to bite back. One of his ex-girlfriends from five years ago had a picture on Getty Images wearing this exact cut and color when she was rumored to be with him.

“They’re pretty,” you argue.

He gives you a look. “No, they’re not. I don’t like them. They squish your toes too much.” Sukuna sighs, as if the idea of berating you is too taxing for him to handle.

“Next time, have some more common sense. You’re an Itadori now. Your image is mine and you have to keep it spotless. Whatever you do, wherever you go, my name will always be attached to yours.” He gives you a side glance, and you feel his vitriol and cutting annoyance. “If you wear those shoes and stumble around, you’re just begging for the wrong kind of attention.”

Mental note made. You glance back at the shoes, wanting nothing more than to burn them. I’ll have to tell Okura-san to phase this style out of my wardrobe.

The day continues with a celebration of your nuptials at a high end Michelin restaurant in Tokyo Tower, the reservation made under his name and intended for selected family and friends only.

You see Este in the crowd, months after your last encounter with her at the Hokkaido lodge, and feel a nauseating sense of unease when she beams at Sukuna, readying herself at the front of the stage where you’re supposed to toss the bouquet to your unmarried friends.

She’s changed into a cream gown, almost the same color as your own bridal dress from her previous red number in the church—probably when you were all too busy getting the ceremony underway. Many people stop to stare at her, though shameless as she is, she doesn’t pay them any mind, tossing her shiny brown hair back and giggling with her gaggle of prissy friends also mutually connected to the Itadoris.

Pitiful stares slide towards you, and Iori even threatens under her breath to spill red wine all over the front of her frock in passing for daring to humiliate you like this; her arms locked tight around you in mid-embrace when you come over to her table and greet her. She’s splendid and iridescent in an airy pale green dress and her hair up in a pristine bow, though the look of vitriol on her face could kill a man.

We can’t do that, you regretfully inform her, squeezing her forearms, feeling helpless at her righteous anger. The Naras are priceless to the Itadoris—angering them would affect Jin and Sukuna’s relationship with James.

Ever since you came back from Hokkaido, you hadn’t found the time to update her on what you had overheard from Sukuna and Este, too consumed by wedding prep and your inner conflict at whether you should proceed with the whole farce now that both your families were starting to put the pressure on you and Sukuna.

Iori, kind-hearted as she was to a fault, gave you your space, one call away whenever you needed emotional support. You hated keeping her in the dark for so long, but there were just some things you could not speak about without going deeper into this impending tragedy of a loveless marriage.

As the new wife of their family, there were things you had to learn—and fast.

The first being you would always be last in the grand scheme of things in the Itadori clan.

First was their brotherly bond, then their business, and then their shared raising of Yuuji who’s the heir apparent to the entire company.

Any children you beget for Sukuna would be second in line, a spare in case anything happens to Yuuji in the future.

Between the struggle or slaughterhouse, you chose to duck your head quietly and let yourself be led down this road where your happiness came second to everyone else’s. You had a duty to fulfill—to protect and upkeep the L/N name; nothing else can matter.

Ladies and gentlemen, the bride will now perform the highly waited for bouquet toss! The announcer guides you to the stage where your carefully crafted bouquet of daisies and peonies sourced from one of the best florists in Shinjuku was pressed into your hands. Your family beams across the room, your mother grasping Sukuna’s bicep as she excitedly chatters into his ear.

The wedding is over, the five course meals are done and now, the games will begin.

Let’s see who the lucky lady is today, he trills, and you turn back from the crowd, steadying your aim towards Iori, who bounces on the balls of her feet, excitedly shooting you a grin.

If there was anyone who deserved better luck than you in your love life, it’s your best friend of twelve years.

“Three, two, one—and toss!”

You throw the bouquet back and catch the peel of high-pitched squeals, some scrambling. Then, the crowd starts to clap and cheer.

You turn around, expecting Iori to be the one triumphant in holding your bouquet in her hands, but find that it’s Este who brandishes the flower arrangement in the air instead like a conqueror holding her enemy’s beheaded head.

Some peony petals scatter to the ground, looking like crimson bloodstains as Este’s mother pinches her cheeks, happy at her daughter’s good luck on such an auspicious day.

For a split second, the entire room forgets about you—the woman in white, standing all alone with a spotlight on her, arms uselessly dangling by her side; a smile frozen on her face like a mannequin left out in a snowstorm for days.

You feel someone staring at you from the dais on the other end of the room, and lift your eyes, your gaze colliding with a pair of vermillion hues.

Sukuna holds eye contact with you for a moment longer than you hope, and in those eyes, an evasive yet curious emotion stirs, stunning you for a second more than you could ever dream.

Then, he drops his eyes and the connection blanks, your world going back to white and black again.

“Cancel the honeymoon,” Sukuna sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. “I can’t leave like this.”

Jin sits solemnly in front of him, lips in a thin line and circles dark underneath his eyes.

The latest investor meeting was a clusterfuck. None of the numbers were making sense and revenue across the Middle East had been disrupted because of a supply chain leakage.

Things weren’t looking too bright for Itadori Corp—all this while Sukuna was getting a hang of the ropes and trying his best to catch up with a decade’s worth of data, numbers, and Jin’s expectations.

“Are you sure?” The younger twin sinks back in his seat, turning his sleep-deprived eyes to the ceiling. Ever since the third quarter report came out, Jin’s been spending more nights in the office than he cared to admit, relegating Yuuji to the care of his nannies and nurses. “Won’t your wife be mad?”

Sukuna couldn’t care less what you would feel about this decision. This is his profit at risk.

He snorts. “No. She’s too busy shopping all day long and painting. Y/N won’t notice if we never went for our honeymoon.”

There’s something deeper behind his scorn, and Jin wants to ask, but he’s interrupted by a knock on the office door.

His personal assistant walks in, the man’s flush face and aggravated expression sending off flickers of anxiety crawling all over his skin. Jin’s office with its floor-to-ceiling windows, curated artwork and priceless mahogany desk seems to shrink in the periphery from the magnitude of the news he receives next.

“Itadori-san, my apologies for interrupting.” Ijichi bows deeply, his glasses almost falling off his face. “But, the stakeholders have requested an emergency meeting tonight.”

“Shit,” Jin curses.

It’s horrendous timing. Tonight’s the night you’ll be officially welcomed into the Itadori household.

Reading his mind, Sukuna shakes his head. “We have an important family event tonight. Push it to tomorrow morning.”

Over the decade he’s served Itadori Corp and Jin loyally, Ijichi wasn’t sure if he could take Sukuna’s order. But, Jin eases his uncertainties with a nod and a sigh.

“My brother is right. Just let them know we’ll meet on this tomorrow. It will give Sukuna and I some time to go over the report and speak to our analysts.”

Not one to waste any time, their subordinate bows again, leaving the room to make the necessary calls.

“Can you get me a meeting with James Nara?” Jin stands, buttoning the front of his blazer and adjusting his glasses. “We might need to expedite things on the manufacturer's end.”

Sukuna stands as well, smoothing the front of his dress pants. “Of course.”

“He’s in his apartment down in Shibuya. Get Este on the line, too. Something tells me we’re going to need their connections to Dubai to get us out of this mess.”

His older brother hesitates. Jin furrows his brow, turning back to look at him. “Is something wrong?”

The confession hovers on the tip of his tongue—I can’t see Este or else I’ll be tempted to do something horrible. Sukuna hasn’t seen her since the wedding when she caught the bouquet you obviously meant for that Utahime girl; knowing they would have to reduce their encounters if they didn’t want word of their affair to spread across the city. Besides late night texts on his burner phone and a few nudes exchanged here and there, Sukuna hasn’t felt her under him in days.

And the need is ever growing.

“Nothing,” he lies smoothly. “I’ll catch up with James in the afternoon.”

Sukuna walks back to his office opposite Jin's, a space curated just for him. He surveys the tournament trophies hanging on the wall, the boxing memorabilia. Unlike his brother’s office, it’s clinical and colder. While Jin proudly has photos of himself, Kaori and Yuuji hanging on the walls to mark his unending devotion for his family, Sukuna’s content to focus more on his achievements and goals rather than sappy, cliche mementos.

Even the wedding portrait sent back by the studio remains in the storage, hidden from his view and attention. A nagging voice deep inside tells him to speak to you about it—to give you a choice to hang it up or burn it. But, he doesn’t bother to revisit that task, hyperfocus on closing this deal before the next quarter arrives.

It’s part of his charade to show Jin he’s worthy of that 110% profit when it inevitably gets cashed into his account.

“Sir?”

Ijichi stands at the door, daring to interrupt his thoughts; the vermin bows to him and straightens.

Sukuna’s starting to feel like this guy would never give him a break. His mouth curls into a sneer, words piercing and cold.

“Well? What is it?”

“Sir, Miss Este Nara has made an appointment for you to visit downtown Shibuya on Jin’s request. Your 4.30PM meeting is set.”

Saying nothing else, the meek man bows again and retreats, leaving Sukuna to his spiraling thoughts.

Three days without her body and the drugs were pushing it. But, it’s been almost a week since he’s had a hit and he feels the gnawing ache overtaking his every thought. If it weren’t for the little bags of coke she had brought to him before the wedding which he does every night in his own private bathroom before returning to the penthouse you both shared, Sukuna might have murdered someone by now.

To prepare himself for her, he staggers into his bathroom, procuring the small pouch hidden behind rows of mouthwash and setting it up on the black marble counter. Sukuna lines it up, bends his head forward and inhales the sweet, sweet powder that sends a shock up his spine, his eyes narrowing into pinpricks and mind floating away in a blissful sea of nothing.

He leans against the counter, head languidly rolling back, eyes half closed.

His watch beeps with the meeting reminder Ijichi uploaded into his shared data, and he walks out of there with a swing in his step, shoulders loose and a confident grin in place.

The Naras weren’t as ostentatious as the L/Ns thought their uptown apartment in Shibuya begs to challenge that notion.

Concierge immediately recognizes his Superleggera, ushering him up the gilded smart elevators; purified oxygenated air circulating around the ample space, ruffling the tips of his pink hair.

He arrives at the front door, ready to make a deal with the Nara patriarch himself when the door opens and he finds Este on the other end, her red lips in a smirk.

“Wh—where’s your father?” Sukuna holds his cool while keeping his confusion under wraps.

It’s fine. If the old man wasn’t here, he could come back another day… after he sorted out his hit, of course.

Her coy smile reflects his thoughts, and she doesn’t stop to think of the consequences, pulling him into the apartment by his tie.

Sukuna falls into the gravity of her seduction, lips pressed onto hers, moaning and licking along the seam of her mouth. She tastes like Dior’s cherry lip gloss and a bad mistake, weighing him down with the burden of her arms around him.

Este drags him to the couch, panting when he pushes her skirt aside, finding her completely naked underneath.

“You planned this?” He growls, eyeing her flushed nub that twitches under his glare.

“I knew you were coming back for me.” Her eyes roll back into her head and she bites on her lip, tangling her fingers in his hair as he ducks his head down in between her legs.

Sukuna eats her out right on her parent’s couch, the bulge in his pants hard to ignore. He snaps his pants’ button open with one hand, dragging the zipper down and pulls out his cock, giving it a few good pumps as his tongue traces his name onto her clit.

Este’s breathing like she’s on the verge of a breakdown, the whites of her eyes glimmering in the low light. Sukuna feels her spurt into his mouth and he drinks her down, never taking those sultry red eyes off of her.

Limp and satisfied from her orgasm, she gives him a lazy smirk and pulls him in for a deep kiss.

Sukuna’s tongue twines with hers in a kiss which makes his cock throb, and he aches to be in her—it’s been too long since he’s felt her pussy clinging onto him.

Este’s slim legs wrap around his waist, and her cries are muffled by his large palm slapping across her mouth.

Shut up, Sukuna snarls. Shut up and take it.

He fucks her fast and dirty, the thrill of his raw cock inside of her enough to make his balls twitch and the band around his belly tighten.

Come in me, her lusty cry spills from between his finger cracks. I need to feel you, Ryomen.

His name tumbling from her swollen lips is enough for him to spill inside her, filling her with warmth. Este brushes the sweaty strands of hair from his face, tracing her lips over the tribal tattoos on his jaw.

“Where the fuck is my reward, woman?” He grumbles and she giggles, reaching behind the sofa to rummage for the secret packet. Sukuna swats the globes of her ass on display just for him, admiring the thick white glob of his cum oozing out of her puffy cunt.

She settles into his lap with the white ziplock bag, daring him to sniff it off her pelvis bone.

Sukuna arranges her back on the couch, carefully stacking a line of white on her pale, silky smooth skin and inhaling it in one go.

The drugs take effect immediately and he’s seeing stars everywhere; on the ceiling, outside the windows, twinkling from inside her pussy.

If this is what love feels like, Sukuna thinks he’s a master of it.

“Feels good?” Her voice wavers in and out of his shaky consciousness. Sukuna nods, resting his head on her thigh, eyes closed and enjoying the feel of her nails raking through his scalp.

Fuck, if this is what love feels like, he doesn’t mind upping his dosage for a stronger hit.

The ticking kitchen clock becomes the subject of your nervous glances.

It’s half past six and Sukuna still isn’t home yet. Dinner with Jin starts at seven.

You bite your nails, knee bouncing up and down as you contemplate driving straight to the younger Itadori’s apartment without your husband.

It won’t be a good look. Jin would obviously question Sukuna’s whereabouts, and you didn’t want to paint yourself as a bad wife for not knowing where your husband was.

It’s not my fault he doesn’t tell me anything! You seethe in frustration. That damn asshat wouldn’t give me his daily schedule—even when I asked him twice!

You groan and tilt your head back, flopping onto the sofa. The satin dress you bought from Dior clings to your figure, and you fiddle with the biker’s jacket you got on a whim, crinkling your nose at how stuffy and humid it was because of the thick material. This isn’t helping my nerves.

You sigh and push back your hair, wondering if you should leave Sukuna yet another voicemail. You’ve already left about four since the clock chimed six, and you’re honestly considering calling up his office line to remind him of this special occasion.

Just as you make the decision to flag the chauffeur from his patient post in the suite’s parking spot to take you to Jin’s apartment on your own, the doorknob jangles and turns.

Sukuna steps in, cheeks ruddy and hair askew, looking like someone had taken a huge windblower to his face.

“Well?” He snaps, like he’s the one who spent half the day trying to get a hold of you; nervously waiting for your arrival back home. “Do I have to fucking roll out a red carpet for you? Let’s go.”

He doesn’t raise his voice at you, but he might as well have judging from the annoyance simmering in his vermillion gaze.

Sukuna slams the door shut and you scramble to your feet, grabbing your purse and the remains of your patience. He waits for you in the elevator, and you huff quietly, stepping past the doors and standing beside him with your eyes latching onto the ground, simmering in annoyance.

“Stop pouting. Your face is annoying me.”

Darting your eyes to his, your lips tighten into a grimace. It takes some effort to school your features into a pleasant smile, but you do it for the sake of keeping the peace this evening.

“I apologize, Itadori-san.”

Rather than reducing his severity on someone who doesn’t deserve the least bit of his hostility, Sukuna’s nostrils flare and he groans, shaking his head. Underneath the harsh fluorescent light of this private elevator, you can see his skin stretching taut across his face, the dark circles like bruises smudged under his eyes.

Without taking a second to think, you step closer to him and place the back of your hand on his forehead.

Sukuna flinches as if you’ve struck him, his jaw tightening and body tensing. You falter and retreat back to your corner of the elevator, the skin on the back of your hand prickling. He, too, feels a tingling sensation on his forehead where your touch made contact with his skin, and despite the lack of malicious intent, he doesn’t let his walls of hostility fall for a single second.

“What are you doing?” He seethes, narrowing his eyes.

Curling your shoulders forward defensively, you gesture to his appearance. “You look exhausted. Sick, even. I was just trying to see if you’re feeling well. You know—like a good wife is supposed to do.”

The word ‘wife’ tears through him like a bed of nails. This time, Sukuna actually flinches.

You look like the picture of innocence in front of him, staring up at him with those wide doe eyes as if you don’t know that you’ve crossed a line. His high-maintenance, image-obsessed wife who thinks she has him all figured out. Sukuna finds you sickening, a pain in his ass.

As if to retaliate back against your unwanted touch, he scoffs.

“You can drop the act, Princess. Spare it for someone who actually cares. Like Jin. We don’t have to pretend when it’s just the two of us.”

Unbeknownst to him, your expression breaks into one of hurt behind his back when he turns around, ignoring you like you’re the dirt underneath his expensive designer shoes.

You can’t find the words to fight back or retort, tightening your hands around your embellished purse as you trail behind him quietly like his shadow.

The car ride to Jin’s mansion is hell on earth, if you can call the hot depths your husband’s cold stare never leaving the window, or his tense jaw keeping its edge long after you both left the penthouse.

You never thought such a simple gesture would incite this much resistance from one man. All you had done was try to see if he had a fever, and Sukuna was acting as if you had insulted his entire bloodline in front of his business associates. As much as you want to shirk the pain off and ignore it, it slices you everywhere, leaving no inch of your heart unscathed.

The car idles to a stop in front of a simple, double-storey mansion, one of Jin’s properties near Shibuya that he prefers to reside in over his penthouse in Akasaka.

And, you can see why. Homey with plants dotting the balconies and blinds at every floor-to-ceiling window, it’s a perfect blend of luxury and comfort for a single father raising a rambunctious young boy.

The driver steps out and opens your door. You get out and Sukuna follows behind, making a sound of consternation under his breath. He takes a step forward, and you can’t tell if it’s the lack of light, or if his gait is wobbly.

Like he’s drunk, you think silently to yourself. But, after witnessing his venomous side firsthand, you keep a hold on your tongue. After all, this is the first night you’ll be meeting Jin and getting introduced to his young son. You don’t want to mess it up.

The tiny gift you spent a whole day making for Yuuji weighs heavily in your purse. Before you could follow behind him into the home, Sukuna whirls around, and in a low tone, he warns, “Don’t do anything stupid tonight to embarrass me. My nephew doesn’t take kindly to strangers so stay in line, princess.”

His words, harsh and cruel, slice through you again, reminding you of your position as his lawfully-wedded wife. Always beneath him, always available for scrutiny and scorn.

Before you can murmur your agreement or nod docilely, he turns back around and opens the door. You take a deep breath the second you step through the threshold, heart hammering in between your ribs at what you can expect from the other side.

Warm, orange light drips from the chandelier above. A cozy L-shape couch with a crackling fireplace immediately puts your worries at ease, and the tinkling of a water fountain by the large, living room windows, soothes the ire your husband’s previous words incited almost instantly.

Jin hears the door opening and he steps past the pillar separating the open concept kitchen from the living room with a smile on his face.

“Sukuna. Y/N. Welcome, welcome. Take a seat. I’m just warming up the dishes the chef left for us.”

You bow to him slightly and he returns your gesture with a friendly wink. “It’s good to see you again, Jin-san.”

“Likewise, Y/N. And please,” he flashes you a bright smile. “Call me Jin. We’re in-laws now so you don’t have to be so formal with me.”

His openness, so different from his older twin’s antagonism, heals a part of your heart that’s still tender from Sukuna’s afflictions. You nod and gesture to the kitchen.

“Can I help you with anything, Jin?”

It’s strange to see a man work a kitchen, much less a man like Itadori Jin who’s brilliant mind and business acumen was said to rival Bill Gates’ during his prime years. He’s the picture of ease, standing there with a gray apron wrapped around his neck and waist, effortlessly heating up some sauces in pots and checking on the oven settings.

“Oh, don’t mind me, Y/N. Sit, sit. There’s refreshments in the fridge. Don’t be shy to help yourself.”

You set your bag down on the counter and nod, ambling over to the large, smart fridge, opening it idly.

Apparently at ease now that he’s comfortable in his twin brother’s house, Sukuna sinks onto the couch with a low groan. “D’you happen to have a beer or something?”

His brother, already back in the kitchen, overhears his gripes.

“Yeah, I do. Go get it yourself. And get one for your wife, too, prick.”

Uncaring for the warning in Jin’s tone, Sukuna flickers his crimson eyes to you standing there like a statue by the fridge. “She’s right there. She can take a drink for me, can’t she? It’s not like her legs aren’t working.”

You see a darker emotion flash on Jin’s face, almost like anger, and decide to intervene before the two brothers could fight over something as trivial as manners and who should bring who a drink.

“It’s alright. I’ll get a beer for him,” you quickly butt in, and grab a cold can of Asahi for Sukuna and a sparkling water for yourself. You pad over to your husband, ignoring Jin’s flickering gaze passing over your expression and school your features into one of neutrality when you pass the beer to him.

Sukuna takes it without ‘thanks’, kicking his feet up on the coffee table and groaning. You take the love seat on his other side, uncapping your drink and politely sipping on the bubbling liquid.

“Oi.” His terse tone catches your attention and you startle. Sukuna frowns, and flickers his gaze to the spot next to him. In a low voice so that Jin can’t overhear, he murmurs, “You want him to think we’re a celibate couple or something? Sit next to me. Don’t make it so obvious.”

Despite the fact that yes—you two were for all intents and purposes a couple who had not even consummated the marriage yet—you heed his words, knowing that what happens behind closed doors is not allowed to see the light of day.

Mutely, you shift to sit by his side, quietly absorbing the house’s minimalist yet expensive decor.

You want to ask Jin what’s his inspiration for the color palette when you hear footsteps coming down the stairs behind you, and turn to find an elderly woman in a starchy black dress and hair in an uptight bun walking hand-in-hand with a tiny boy who barely looks to be past four years old.

Oh. Your breath rushes out of your chest as you take in his fluffy pink hair, the orange dungarees which clash horribly with the blush-tone hue of his locks. This must be—

“Come on, Yuuji. Come and meet your new aunty.”

Jin removes his apron and nods to the maid, guiding Yuuji over to you and Sukuna. His smile becomes both paternal and soft as he places one large palm on his son’s head, urging him forward to meet the newest addition to their family.

Disregarding Sukuna’s warning to not step out of line in front of his family, you walk up to his nephew and slide down to one knee, so you’re both looking right into each other’s eyes. Yuuji isn’t shy like you expected, gazing at you with open curiosity, those brown eyes comically wide.

“Hi, Yuuji,” you greet him warmly. The small boy doesn’t say a word.

Behind you, you feel Sukuna’s looming presence, and not wanting to prove him right, you stand and pluck your tote bag from the counter, rummaging inside and pulling out a crocheted blue bunny. Yuuji’s eyes go even bigger at the sight of the toy, his pouty, pink seashell lips dropping open, eyes never leaving the gift in your hand.

“Your father told me you like toys so I made this for you.” You slide back onto one knee and hand him the stuffed toy, waiting for him to take it.

Everything is quiet for a brief moment and a part of you thinks he might reject you, as children do when for no logical reason. But then, Yuuji turns to look at Jin, as if asking for permission and his father nods, grinning widely.

“Go ahead, Yuu-Yuu. Aunty Y/N made that just for you.”

Two chubby hands reach for the toy, taking it from your grasp as he squeezes it right to his plump cheek. Yuuji’s nose crinkles and he starts to rub his face on the scratchy material, the furrow on his tiny forehead smoothing out and a giggle blessing your ears.

“I think he likes it,” Jin laughs, and you can’t help but chortle, too.

“I think he does.” You turn towards Sukuna, who’s looking at the boy holding the toy with an amused smirk.

“Well. First one for the books. You have it easy—wait till he starts throwing a temper tantrum.”

Straightening, you extend your hand out to Yuuji who stares at it like your fingers are a foreign object hovering right in front of him. Slowly, he feels the trust seeping from you, knowing you wouldn’t mean any harm, and spreads his tiny fingers towards you—stopping when he suddenly remembers something.

One more glance at his papa, who nods graciously, a bright smile on his face at the sight of his adorable son warming up to his aunt. “You can trust her, Yuu-Yuu.”

Relaxing at his father’s words, the smallest Itadori stretches out his free hand, grasping your pinkie. The warmth of his entire palm engulfing your smallest finger sets off a sense of maternal protection and sweetness surging through your veins, and you can’t help but think that if someone were to threaten Yuuji with a gun, you would put yourself right in front of the barrel to protect him.

“Would you like to have dinner now, Yuuji?” You ask him warmly, and the toddler gurgles as if he completely understands what you’re saying, tugging you along.

You swivel back to Sukuna who’s watching the entire episode unfurl with a look of pleasant surprise on his face, unaccustomed to having someone hit it off with his crybaby of a nephew.

Resisting the urge to stick your tongue out at him, you give him a triumphant smirk, and he relents, shaking his head with a low laugh. You got me there, that chuckle seems to say, and he keeps his eyes peeled on Yuuji who leads you right down the hall with mincing steps—strides which you match effortlessly.

Where other nannies and butlers would try to order Yuuji around, you bend right to his whims, meeting him at his level. You listen to him babble in his baby language without any hesitation or judgment; you coo and gasp at the right time, as if he had told you something scandalous. Whenever you had to speak to him, you tried your best to get onto one knee to be eye-to-eye with the two year old.

It’s safe to say by the end of the evening, you’ve won at least one Itadori man’s heart.

Yuuji insisted you sit next to him on his high chair with his thumb in his mouth, shaking his head furiously when Jin tries to take the seat on his right hand side.

“Okay, little man. It’s not like I’m your father, or anything.” Jin complains, much to your amusement.

You try and fail to hide a giggle at Yuuji furrowing his tiny brows and puckering his mouth into a pout when Sukuna attempts to take the chair next to the young boy. Those sweet brown eyes search for you, and he whines, unsticking his thumb from his mouth to make grabby motions at you.

“Me?” You point to your chest, pretending to look back as if you expected him to choose someone else.

Yuuji whines louder, and you giggle, shaking your head at his antics. “You want me to sit next to you, Yuu-Yuu?”

As you speak, you circle the table and hover at the chair next to him. Yuuji doesn't say a word or even mumble a protest—watching you with wide, doe eyes.

Taking it as a ‘yes’, you shoot both Jin and Sukuna an apologetic look, settling yourself on Yuuji’s right; the toddler smacking his lips in satisfaction. He’s managed to trickle drool all over the crocheted bunny, holding it fast to his chest as a maid helps cut his potatoes into smaller bites, quartering the Shine Muscat grapes so he could easily grab it and stuff it into his mouth.

Jin takes the seat opposite of you, hovering close enough in case you need help with his son.

But, he was surprised to see that you were perfectly capable of handling Yuuji all on your own.

The spread of food arranged by both Jin and his maid is luxurious and homey, filled with stewed meats, stir-fried veggies and at the center of the table sits a hearty salmon dish lightly boiled in dashi broth, its flavor clean and nourishing at the same time.

You eat while Jin and Sukuna catch up over business and other formalities, your attention solely on Yuuji and his antics. You giggle when he offers you a grape and nod, extending your palm for him to drop the plump fruit into your hand.

“So, how’s Project Dubai going?” Sukuna inquires, and Jin tears his eyes away from the intriguing young woman who’s getting on well with his son to entertain his brother.

You’re nibbling on a grape when you overhear this intriguing topic; Project Dubai being the codename for Shinjuku Alliance, your father’s company, patenting technology from the Middle East under Itadori Corp’s supply channels.

This was the one project which brought you into their lives—the reason why Sukuna’s ring was on your finger in the first place.

Jin senses your mounting curiosity, and as much as you’re a key person in this deal, he doesn’t need anymore stakes in such a top secret project that was sure to boost Japan’s economy as a whole. He frowns, and gives Sukuna a pointed look.

“Do you think we should be speaking of business at this table now?”

He meant it as a joke, but you, knowing the entire context and having overheard it, tries to reassure him in your usual selfless way.

“It’s alright, Jin-san. You and Itadori-san can talk about business. I’ll keep Yuuji entertained so he won’t interrupt.”

Jin startles from your sudden quip and begins to stammer out that it’s fine, that he’ll save the talk for later in the smoking room, when Sukuna returns his previous gesture and gives him a glare.

“I suppose it’s going well,” the youngest twin finally responds with a sigh. “I’m meeting Jiro tomorrow. He wants to talk over logistics and send a rep over to Dubai. I think you should be in the meeting, too.”

Sukuna takes a sip of his whiskey and nods. “Of course. I’ll be there.”

He gives you a furtive look, and as much as he wants to pretend you’re not an important person in his life, the truth is far different from the reality.

You’re nothing but a naive princess who doesn’t know the ins and outs of his world. You live in a fantasy so much different from his own world. Where Sukuna faces rejections, threats and failed investments, all you had going on for you was a rich daddy and a mother who’s descended from retail royalty. You would never understand how important this deal was to him, you could never comprehend the magnitude of burden that rests on his shoulders.

He watches you coo at something Yuuji says, and his rumination catches Jin’s attention. His brother chuckles, and Sukuna swivels back to find him wiggling his brows.

“Say… she’s a natural with children, isn’t she?”

Sukuna bristles. The thing with Jin is that compliments aren’t actually about highlighting a person’s achievements. It’s a means for him to scheme and further coerce someone into doing his bidding.

In this case, Jin’s motivations are clear.

Don’t you ever think of having children with her?

In answer, Sukuna glowers at his brother, eyes narrowed to slits and mouth curling from a glare to a grimace.

Jin rolls his eyes, twin telepathy at play between the both of them.

Oh, come on. His youngest brother glares back at him. You know it has to happen soon—her father wants grandchildren… that’s part of your deal, Sukuna.

“Are you both… okay?” Your concern breaks their staring contest and Jin turns to you with a slight cough, while Sukuna continues to sip on his whiskey.

“We’re fine,” his twin brother grins. Sukuna grunts.

His eyes flit from Yuuji to you and back to Yuuji again, Jin’s silent question echoing loudly in his head.

Don’t you ever think of having children with her?

Growing up with a mother as an art collector gave your childhood a magical touch.

On days when Lia brought you to work, you spent hours exploring the exhibition galleries, hiding underneath the stone benches, running and prancing around just to hear your shoes skidding on the polished, honey oak floorings as world class paintings looked on at your naive, childish glee.

Now that you’re older, the gallery is a source of comfort and a spot you spent most of your time, trying to learn the ropes from your mother in hopes that one day, your name might be on the grant of his great building.

After instructing your new driver to circle towards Monolithique, a cube building housing New Age Impressionist art which your mother is particularly fond of, you take the spiral staircase up to her office, letting yourself into the executive suite.

Lia glances up at you from her spot behind the great mahogany desk, her smile both curious and despairing.

“Already back to work so soon?”

You scoff and shrug off your Balmain tote bag, settling it down on the smaller desk to her right. “Why? Hoping I never come back to work again?”

Looking radiant in a yellow sundress with a Tom Ford leather coat hanging from her shoulders, your mother chuckles.

“It’s only been three weeks since the wedding. Itadori-san should be keeping you at home to enjoy your presence.”

At the reminder of how long it’s been since the ceremony and yet, Sukuna refuses to make a move on you despite sharing the same bed together, your bubbly smile falls slightly flat.

“He’s been busy with Project Dubai,” you shrug off your long, black trench coat and set it on the back of the chair, careful not to crumple your new silky Dior dress. “I was growing bored at home.”

Lia eyes the new monochromatic fashion you’re sporting, her lips pursing as she looks you up and down. “The dress is something… different. I’ve never seen such a lack of color on you. Not even a pastel bow in your hair?”

Referring to your old style which Sukuna had insulted as an ‘old maid trying to play a prepubescent girl’, you cringe at the internal shame you still carried around from that conversation. You shrug, trying to play it cool in front of your mom.

“I suppose I came to the realization that my old style was… childish.”

Lia chuckles, shaking her head. “I did love your old style, though. It had a certain innocence. But, you’re right, you’re a married woman now and you need to look sophisticated and carry yourself well.”

You nod, going back to your stack of papers which need your attention after your wedding leave.

“Oh, about the Daley memorial exhibition—”

Your head shoots up, piqued by such an interesting concept. “Did the board bite my pitch idea?”

Lia tries and fails to suppress a smile. “Yes, they did, Y/N. They loved your idea and the suggestion of a tribute for him. Getting his grandson to unveil an exclusive painting which the public has not seen was such a great idea, that even Mrs. Saichi loved it.”

The idea of Mrs. Saichi, or known as the art curator from hell who loves terrorizing the newer hires, loving your idea enough to put aside her cantankerous attitude makes you grin from ear to ear.

“That’s great, mom. I have some other ideas, too that I think the board will like,” you clear your throat, removing a clear binder from your desk drawer. “There’s this artist. His name is Suguru Geto and he studied in Vanliette’s School of Art in Salisbury. He stated that one of his biggest creative inspirations is Nathan Daley and his recent works have been generating hype especially in Denmark for its use of Daley’s paint splatter method. I think he would great to feature as a highlight artist, considering he’s—”

“From Tokyo,” Lia finishes, her eyes twinkling. “Mhm. Yes, I've heard about him, too. A very talented young man, though he is rather… rakish in nature.”

You tilt your head, a polite yet confused smile lifts your lips. “What do you mean by that, mom?”

Lia takes in your innocence with a chortle, folding her hands right in front of her. “It means he’s a playboy, my dear. He’s used to having his way with many, many beautiful women. If we want to get him onboard for the Daley Memorial, we need to employ a very convincing incentive, indeed.”

Her eyes rake across your face, scanning down your bare shoulders. You blanche, the implication of her words rising inside you like the warmth staining your cheeks.

“Are you saying I should be the one to lure him in?”

A smile plays on the corners of her lips. “I believe so. If you so badly want to take over Monolithique and expand to other corners of the world, there are certain sacrifices and tests I must put you through to prove your worth, dear.”

Of course. You’ve made it known many times to Lia how much you yearn to have this art gallery under your name; your dreams of expanding to cities like New York or Chicago are the same ones which fuel your determination to show up at work everyday.

You square your shoulders and steel yourself with a breath. Getting Suguru Geto was no easy feat, but you’re an L/N. Your father’s stubbornness and your mother’s wit runs through your blood. But, like every good businesswoman, you can’t just take the first offer on the table. You had to play your cards right; dig deeper to maximize your benefits.

“And if I do get Geto-san for our exhibition? What will be my compensation?”

Lia’s eyes sparkle at your question; she’s taught you well.

Tapping one manicured finger on her chin, she hums, as if deep in thought.

What she says next is the stuff of your wildest dreams.

Biting her cheek, she says, “I’ll let you take charge of expanding Monolithique to Chicago.”

Your heart literally stops. A breath you didn’t know you were holding whooshes past your lips, and you press a hand to your mouth to keep from squealing.

“Are you serious?” Your eyes sparkle with a million stars, the first piece of good news you’ve gotten since your inescapable marriage to Sukuna.

Lia hums, the twinkle in her eyes matching your ecstasy.

“As serious as I've ever been.” Her gaze softens, and she sinks back into her high chair, a satisfied smile across her dewberry stained lips. “But, on one condition.”

You look at her expectantly, willing to do what it takes to see your dreams grow wings and fly. “Yes, mom. Anything.”

Lia exhales, twining her fingers together, looking at you with a keen shine in her eye.

“We expect to hear good news of a grandchild sometime this year.”

Sukuna’s day was going from bad to worse.

First, his assistant messed up his meeting schedule for an important VIP catch-up with Jin and the rest of the committee, then some board bitch from his brother’s posse of investors made a snide comment about his facial tattoos which he couldn’t rebuke if he wanted to play nice. Afterwards, his favorite protein shake bar in the cafe below unexpectedly ran out of his favorite whey solvent and on top of that, his wife has the fucking audacity to text him to come home earlier tonight for dinner.

He’s seething when he reads your message, not bothering to reply and switching his phone off.

If you had half the brains to text him in the morning when he’s still fresh and ready to take on the day, he might’ve been lenient to your request. But, he can’t afford to make anymore mistakes today.

His position as Jin’s VP already drew raised eyebrows from across the room when it was announced just three weeks ago after his marriage to you. The rumor mill ran rampant with voices of dissent, calling him a product of nepotism; whispers behind his back of how he didn’t deserve this position over other long-time cohorts who were unfairly pushed from the top.

Without thinking it through, Sukuna rummages in his desktop drawer, removing a small, white packet.

The entire office had already emptied out a long time ago; Jin himself had rapped his knuckles on his door, announcing his leave to go back home.

It’s just him, a few security guards manning the building, and the promise of his high.

Sukuna lines up the powder on his desk and takes the first hit, feeling the drugs swirl in his system. The familiar high hums in his veins and a dopey smile breaks out across his face. He sighs and sits back in his high end chair, folding his hands on top of his chest.

Enjoying the lightheadedness for a few more moments, Sukuna decides enough time has passed and he needs to crash out in his own bed. The idea of coming back home faded as hell doesn’t even cross his mind when he calls for the chauffeur to pick him, or when he’s ambling straight to the door of the penthouse he shares with you.

The second the lock clicks inside, he’s assaulted by the scent of vanilla and cinnamon. Candles glitter across every available surface, and it feels like he’s stepped into the middle of a séance.

Sukuna’s confusion is palpable, especially when he notices you rising from the sofa, clad in a skimpy black robe with lace trimmings, the peek of your collarbones past the silk stirring something inside of his chest.

“What’s this?” He tries to demand, but the hardness of his confusion doesn’t translate in his tone. Instead, he sounds curious.

“I made you dinner,” you murmur and this close now, he sees your lips shining with a sheen of plum wine, your skin smooth and flawless under the warm, flickering light.

Sukuna swallows and involuntarily takes a step back.

“I told you I’d be working late—”

“It’s no worries,” you interject, and without a second’s hesitation, close the distance between the two of you. “I don’t mind waiting for you, Itadori-san.”

He can smell the vanilla wafting in your hair, clinging to your skin. Whether the drugs are messing with brain or his resolution is weaker after such a shit day, Sukuna caves in and lifts his hand to your face, running the back of his inked knuckles down your cheek.

Your skin is softer than he imagines, and a jolt runs through him, hot and needy, at the thought of how many days he’s spent asleep next to you on the large, cold bed without even once thinking of caressing such dainty and silky flesh. A flash of heat unfurls down his spine, and he growls, low and in warning, his crimson eyes darkening.

“You’re playing a dangerous game here, little miss.”

Incredulously, you smirk. Emboldened by his touch, you raise your own dainty palms, pressing it to his chest, feeling the solid muscle underneath his dress shirt.

“Don’t you think we’re both past games, now?” You whisper, hesitantly stripping his jacket off his broad shoulders. The heavy material falls to the floor with a dull thud. Your fingers dance across the buttons of his shirt, and Sukuna doesn’t utter a single word when you start to undress him.

You’re trembling on the inside like a violent earthquake has besieged you, fingers quivering as you work the buttons off, one at a time, until the dip of his pecs appear in your line of sight. A part of you thinks he’s going to snap and come to his senses, pushing you away. But, the dark, pensive look in his eyes doesn’t fade, and it reassures you somewhat.

As if struck by a certain thought, Sukuna brushes your hands away.

Your face melts into a look of hurt, but that changes when he brings his arms to wrap around your smaller figure, pulling you flush to his body. Sukuna’s blood-red eyes hungrily search your face. In the dimness of the penthouse, his facial tattoos stand out garishly, bleeding lines of ink across his skin.

You tentatively reach for his face, cupping it in both your palms. Though no stranger to sex thanks to your reckless youth, this moment feels different. Incredibly intimate. The atmosphere presses around you with sensuous demand, the hot lines of his body against yours causing your heart to thrum out of control.

His crimson eyes fall at half-mast, peering down at you with curiosity swimming in his dark gaze.

You tip his face closer to yours, breath caught in your throat. This will be the first kiss you’ve ever had with him since that day at the altar when he made you his wife.

You can feel your pulse beating wildly through your partially closed eyelids, his lips approaching closer and closer. Your thumb brushes his upper lip, and you’re about to let him close the gap when you see it.

A fine dusting of powder concentrated around his nose.

Instinctively, you gasp, eyes flying wide. Sukuna, who feels the ambience shifting, pries his eyes open too, gazing at you with disgruntled confusion. Before he can ask what has gotten into you, he feels your thumb swiping under his nose, as if scrutinizing some residue.

He blanches immediately, knowing what you would be seeing. What you had found.

Your husband wants to reprimand you for your invasive exploration, but the words catch behind his gritted teeth when you turn your wide eyes to him, shock and dismay mingling upon your expression.

“Sukuna… is this… cocaine?”

a/n. ruh-roh x238585

btw feedbacks and reblogs will always be loved <3 thank you for supporting my story this far i luv u

©️ lalunanymph. do not copy elements of my work, repost, change the sentence structures, translate across any other platforms, and claim as your own

#🦢 writes #sukuna smut #sukuna angst #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #ryomen sukuna #jjk series #jjk fic #sukuna ryomen smut #ryomen x reader #jjk ryomen #jujutsu kaisen ryomen #series: hopelessly devoted

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bratzkoo · 5 months ago

Text

Merging Arrangments | wonwoo pt. 1

Author: bratzkoo Pairing: chaebol heir! wonwoo x chaebol heiress!/ nurse! reader Genre: angst, fluff, eventual smut Rating: PG-15 to NC-17 Word count: 4k~ Warnings/note: for my Anna, my beautiful nurse. Happy birthday!

Everything marked with [M] have mature scenes and should not be read by minors.

summary: Jeon Wonwoo's been smitten with you for years, as the two of you enter an arranged marriage, he hopes you'll feel the same.

Arrange marriage! au

taglist (hit me up if you wanna be added): @escoupseu , @yanabaaaaaaarysheva , @spnyin , @sousydive , @gyuguys , @gyubakeries , @tokitosun , @gaslysainz , @armycarat2612

requests are open, but you can just say hi! | masterlist

The Grand Hyatt Seoul stood majestically against the backdrop of Namsan Mountain, its glass facade reflecting the late afternoon sun. Today, the luxurious hotel buzzed with an energy beyond its usual five-star opulence. It was playing host to the wedding of the year—the union of Jeon Group and Kit Medical Group through their heirs, Jeon Wonwoo and Y/N Kit.

In the grand ballroom, staff members scurried about like well-dressed ants, making last-minute adjustments to flower arrangements and place settings. Crystal chandeliers cast a warm glow over tables draped in silk, each centerpiece a small fortune of exotic blooms. The air hummed with anticipation and barely concealed gossip.

"I heard it was arranged just two months ago," a waiter whispered to his colleague as they adjusted the champagne flutes at the head table.

The other waiter nodded knowingly. "Chaebol marriages," he replied with a hint of cynicism. "Always about business, never about love."

"Shh!" hissed a nearby supervisor. "Less talking, more working. The guests will be arriving soon."

Outside, a fleet of black luxury cars began to arrive, disgorging a who's who of Korean high society. Cameras flashed as celebrities, business tycoons, and politicians made their way into the hotel, their designer outfits and dazzling jewelry a clear display of wealth and status.

---

In a luxurious suite upstairs, Y/N Kit sat before a gilded mirror, her reflection a picture of bridal perfection—and internal turmoil. Her raven hair was swept up in an intricate updo, adorned with tiny diamond-encrusted pins that caught the light with every slight movement. The wedding dress, a custom Vera Wang creation, hugged her figure before flowing out in a cascade of delicate lace and silk. Yet, her eyes, usually bright and determined, now held a hint of uncertainty, a stark contrast to the flawless makeup that adorned her face.

"Miss Y/N, you look absolutely stunning," her makeup artist gushed, stepping back to admire her work. "Like a princess from a fairy tale."

Y/N managed a weak smile, the effort evident. "Thank you," she murmured, her gaze fixed on her reflection, as if trying to recognize the woman staring back at her.

As the artist packed up her supplies, Y/N's mind drifted to two months ago, the day that had set this all in motion...

Y/N had just finished a grueling shift at the hospital, her scrubs rumpled and her hair in a messy ponytail. She'd been looking forward to a quiet evening at home, maybe catching up on some medical journals. Instead, she found her parents waiting in the living room, their faces a mix of excitement and stern determination."An arranged marriage?" Y/N had exclaimed, staring at her parents in disbelief. The words felt foreign on her tongue, like something out of a historical drama rather than her real life. "But I barely know Jeon Wonwoo!"

Her father's eyes had been steely, unyielding. "This union will secure the future of both our companies. It's your duty, Y/N. The merger with Jeon Group will allow us to expand our medical services, to help more people."

"But my nursing career—" Y/N had started, her voice trailing off as she saw the dismissive look in her mother's eyes.

"You can do charity work as a chaebol wife," her mother had interjected smoothly, reaching out to pat Y/N's hand. "It's time you left this nurse phase behind. Think of all the good you can do with the resources of both families at your disposal."

Y/N had felt the walls closing in, her carefully laid plans crumbling around her. "Don't I get a say in this?" she had asked, hating how small her voice sounded.

Her father's expression had softened slightly. "Sometimes, Y/N, we must put aside our personal desires for the greater good. This is one of those times."

A knock at the door jolted Y/N back to the present. She blinked rapidly, banishing the memory and the tears that threatened to form. The door opened to reveal her parents, her father resplendent in a bespoke tuxedo, her mother glittering with diamonds that probably cost more than most people's houses.

"Oh, darling," her mother cooed, gliding into the room with practiced grace. "You look perfect. Like a true Kit heiress."

Her father nodded approvingly, his eyes sweeping over Y/N with a businessman's attention to detail. "Remember, Y/N," he said, his voice gentle but firm, "smile for the cameras. This wedding is about more than just you and Wonwoo. It's about the future of both our families, and the thousands of people who rely on our companies."

Y/N felt her chest tighten at his words, the weight of expectation settling on her shoulders like a heavy cloak. She managed a nod, not trusting her voice to remain steady if she spoke.

As her parents left, murmuring about greeting guests, Y/N allowed herself a moment of vulnerability. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath to center herself. The quiet was short-lived, however, as the door burst open again, admitting her best friends, Alexys and Ela.

"Wow, unnie!" Ela exclaimed, her eyes wide with admiration. "You look like a princess from a manhwa!"

Alexys whistled low, circling Y/N with an exaggerated appraising look. "A very expensive princess. I think your veil costs more than my apartment. Actually, probably more than my entire apartment building."

Despite herself, Y/N felt a laugh bubble up. "Alexys, behave!" she admonished, but there was no heat in her words.

"What?" Alexys grinned, striking a pose that was likely meant to be model-esque but came off more comical. "I'm just saying, if you need someone to carry that train, I volunteer as tribute. I could use a workout, and that dress looks heavy enough to count as weightlifting."

As they laughed, Y/N felt some of her tension ease. These were her people, the ones who knew her as just Y/N, not the Kit heiress or the future Mrs. Jeon. But as quickly as it had come, the moment of levity passed, and doubt crept back in, darkening her expression.

"I don't know if I can do this," Y/N confessed quietly, sinking onto a nearby chaise lounge. "It's all happening so fast. Two months ago, I was focused on my nursing career, on making a difference. And now..."

Ela sat beside her, squeezing her hand supportively. "You're the strongest person I know, Y/N. You'll get through this, and you'll find a way to make a difference, no matter what."

Alexys nodded, her face uncharacteristically serious as she knelt in front of Y/N. "And we'll be right here with you, every step of the way. Although," she added, a mischievous glint returning to her eye, "if you want to make a run for it, I've got a getaway car and a foolproof plan involving two wigs, a llama, and a hot air balloon."

Despite herself, Y/N giggled, the absurd image lightening her mood. "I think I'll pass on the llama plan. But thank you, both of you. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Probably be a lot more stressed and a lot less entertained," Alexys quipped, standing up and smoothing out her bridesmaid dress. "Now, let's get you married, shall we? I've got a bet going with one of the groomsmen on whether I can catch the bouquet while doing a backflip."

As they prepared to leave the room, Y/N took one last look in the mirror. The woman looking back at her was a bride, yes, but she was also still Y/N. With her friends by her side, maybe she could face whatever came next.

---

In another suite, Jeon Wonwoo adjusted his bowtie for the thousandth time, his normally steady hands betraying his nerves. The sleek lines of his custom-tailored tuxedo accentuated his tall, lean frame, but it was his eyes that drew attention—dark, intelligent, and currently filled with a mix of anticipation and anxiety.

"You'll wear it out if you keep fiddling," Mingyu, his best friend and best man, commented from where he lounged on a nearby chair. Despite his relaxed posture, Mingyu cut an impressive figure in his own tuxedo, his easy smile a stark contrast to Wonwoo's tense expression.

Wonwoo sighed, dropping his hands and turning to face his friend. "I just want everything to be perfect. This day... it means more than anyone realizes."

Mingyu's expression softened, understanding dawning in his eyes. "You've been in love with her for years, haven't you? Y/N, I mean."

Wonwoo's silence was answer enough. His mind drifted to a charity gala five years ago, the first time he had truly seen Y/N Kit...

The ballroom had been crowded, full of Seoul's elite in expensive gowns and tuxedos. Wonwoo, then a university student being groomed to take over Jeon Group, had been making the rounds with his father, shaking hands and making small talk. That's when he had spotted her—Y/N Kit, still in high school, her eyes alight with passion as she spoke to a group of doctors.

"I want to be a nurse," she had been saying, her voice clear and determined. "Not just to follow in my family's footsteps, but to make a real difference. To be there for people when they're at their most vulnerable, to help them heal."

Wonwoo had found himself drawing closer, captivated by her enthusiasm, her compassion, her determination. In a room full of people discussing profit margins and market shares, she had been a breath of fresh air, talking about saving lives and making a difference.

That was the moment Wonwoo had fallen in love, though it had taken him some time to realize it.

"She doesn't know," Wonwoo said quietly, coming back to the present. "About my feelings, I mean. How could she? We've barely interacted outside of formal events."

Mingyu stood, clapping a hand on Wonwoo's shoulder. "Maybe this is your chance to show her, then. You're not just the Jeon heir, Wonwoo. You're a good man, with a lot to offer. Let her see that side of you."

A sharp knock interrupted them, causing both men to straighten instinctively. Wonwoo's parents entered, his father's eyes immediately zeroing in on Wonwoo's slightly askew bowtie.

"Fix that," he said brusquely, his tone leaving no room for argument. "The merger papers will be signed right after the ceremony. Everything must be perfect. The future of Jeon Group depends on this union."

Wonwoo nodded stiffly, adjusting his bowtie with practiced ease. "Yes, father. I understand the importance of today."

His mother, softer but no less focused on appearances, stepped forward to smooth an invisible wrinkle from his lapel. "You look handsome, Wonwoo-ya. Y/N Kit is a lucky girl."

As his parents left, likely to check on some other aspect of the wedding preparations, Mingyu let out a low whistle. "And I thought my parents were intense. Is it always like this?"

Wonwoo managed a weak smile, a hint of his usual dry humor showing through. "Welcome to the chaebol life, Mingyu-ya. All glamour and no pressure, right?"

Mingyu chuckled, shaking his head. "Well, if anyone can handle it, it's you. Just remember, behind all this..." he gestured vaguely at the opulent room and their formal attire, "you're still Wonwoo. The guy who stays up too late reading, who can't function without his morning coffee, and who once tried to adopt every stray cat in the neighborhood."

Wonwoo felt some of his tension ease at Mingyu's words. "Thanks, Mingyu. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Probably be a lot more stressed and a lot less handsome," Mingyu quipped, echoing Wonwoo's earlier smile. "Now, let's get you married, shall we? I've got a best man speech to deliver, and I promise only minimal embarrassment."

As they prepared to leave the room, Wonwoo took one last look in the mirror. The man looking back at him was the Jeon heir, yes, but he was also still Wonwoo. With his best friend by his side and hope in his heart, maybe he could make this arranged marriage into something real.

---

The wedding ceremony was a blur of camera flashes and murmured vows. The hotel's grand ballroom had been transformed into a floral wonderland, with thousands of white roses and lilies creating an enchanted atmosphere. Soft classical music played as guests took their seats, a mix of Korea's business elite, celebrities, and politicians all eager to witness the union of two powerful families.

A hush fell over the crowd as the wedding march began. All eyes turned to the back of the room, where Y/N appeared, a vision in white. She walked down the aisle with measured steps, her arm linked with her father's. Her eyes were fixed straight ahead, her expression a carefully composed mask of bridal serenity.

In the front row, Alexys gave Y/N a subtle thumbs up, while Ela dabbed at her eyes with a delicate handkerchief. A few rows back, Choi Seung-cheol watched, his hands clenched tightly in his lap, his heart breaking with each step Y/N took towards another man.

At the altar, Wonwoo's breath caught as he saw Y/N. She was breathtakingly beautiful, the embodiment of grace and elegance. But it was the flash of vulnerability in her eyes, visible only for a moment as she took her place beside him, that made his heart ache. He wanted nothing more than to take her hand and tell her everything would be alright, that they could face this new chapter together.

The officiant began the ceremony, his words about love and commitment ringing with a hint of irony given the arranged nature of the marriage. As they exchanged rings, Y/N's hand trembled slightly. Wonwoo gave her fingers a gentle, reassuring squeeze. For a moment, their eyes met, and something passed between them—a flicker of understanding, perhaps even a spark of connection.

"I, Jeon Wonwoo, take you, Y/N Kit, to be my lawfully wedded wife," Wonwoo said, his voice steady and clear, infused with a warmth that surprised even him.

"I, Y/N Kit, take you, Jeon Wonwoo, to be my lawfully wedded husband," Y/N replied, her voice softer but no less resolute.

Then the officiant pronounced them husband and wife, and the moment was gone, swept away in a tide of applause and camera flashes.

---

The reception was a whirlwind of congratulations, speeches, and thinly veiled business discussions. Y/N and Wonwoo moved through it all in a daze, playing their parts perfectly—the blushing bride and the proud groom, the perfect chaebol couple.

During their first dance, Wonwoo leaned in close, the scent of Y/N's perfume filling his senses. "Are you okay?" he murmured, genuine concern in his voice.

Y/N plastered on a smile for the cameras, her eyes scanning the room even as she replied. "I'm fine," she said, her voice barely audible over the swelling music. "This is what's expected of us, isn't it? To play our parts."

Before Wonwoo could respond, to tell her that it didn't have to be just an act, the dance ended and they were once again swept into the crowd of well-wishers and business associates.

As Y/N made her rounds, graciously accepting congratulations and deflecting questions about future heirs with practiced ease, she found herself face to face with Seung-cheol. For a moment, neither spoke, the air between them thick with unspoken words and missed opportunities.

"You look beautiful," Seung-cheol finally said, his voice rough with emotion. He looked dashing in his suit, a far cry from the casual attire she was used to seeing him in at the hospital.

"Seung-cheol, I—" Y/N began, not sure what she wanted to say but feeling the need to say something.

"Congratulations," he cut her off, unable to meet her eyes. "I hope you'll be very happy." The words sounded hollow, a social nicety that did nothing to bridge the chasm that had opened between them.

He walked away before Y/N could respond, leaving her staring after him, a mix of regret and longing on her face. For a moment, she allowed herself to imagine a different world, one where she had followed her heart instead of her duty. But the moment passed, reality reasserting itself in the form of another well-wisher approaching to offer congratulations.

From across the room, Wonwoo watched the interaction between Y/N and Seung-cheol, his heart sinking. The look on Y/N's face as she watched Seung-cheol walk away spoke volumes. Wonwoo turned away, trying to quell the surge of jealousy and disappointment, only to nearly collide with Alexys.

"Whoa there, Mr. Chaebol," she said, steadying herself with a hand on his arm. "No need to sweep me off my feet. Save that for your bride." Her eyes twinkled with mischief, a stark contrast to the formal atmosphere around them.

Wonwoo blinked, taken aback by her casual tone. In his world of rigid formality, Alexys was like a breath of fresh air. "I'm sorry, I—"

Alexys waved him off. "No worries. I'm Alexys, by the way. Y/N's friend and designated baby girl." She leaned in conspiratorially, lowering her voice. "Between you and me, I think this party could use a little livening up. What do you say we spike the punch? I've got a flask of soju in my purse."

Despite himself, Wonwoo found a smile tugging at his lips. "I don't think that would be appropriate," he said, but there was a hint of amusement in his voice.

Alexys sighed dramatically. "You're right, of course. Guess I'll have to settle for embarrassing Y/N with my dance moves instead. Fair warning: I've been practicing my 'Gangnam Style'. It's not pretty, but it's enthusiastic."

As she sashayed away, hips swaying exaggeratedly, Wonwoo felt some of his tension ease. If these were Y/N's friends, maybe there was hope for them yet. Maybe, just maybe, he could find a place in this vibrant, genuine world so different from the one he'd grown up in.

The rest of the reception passed in a blur of faces and formalities. Mingyu gave a heartfelt best man speech, carefully skirting around any mention of his own secret marriage while still managing to both embarrass and honor Wonwoo.

"I've known Wonwoo since we were kids," Mingyu said, his voice carrying across the hushed ballroom. "And I can say without a doubt that he's the most loyal, caring, and intelligent person I know. Y/N," he turned to address the bride directly, "you're not just gaining a husband today. You're gaining a partner who will stand by you, support your dreams, and probably bore you with random historical facts."

A ripple of laughter went through the crowd, and Wonwoo felt a surge of gratitude for his friend. Beside him, he felt Y/N relax slightly, a small, genuine smile playing on her lips.

As the evening wore on, business associates cornered both sets of parents, eager to discuss the implications of this new alliance. Talks of mergers, stock prices, and market expansions filled the air, a constant reminder of the true nature of this union.

Ela and Mingyu exchanged secret glances across the room, their own hidden marriage a sharp contrast to the spectacle around them. At one point, they managed to steal a moment together near the dessert table.

"How are you holding up?" Ela asked, her voice low.

Mingyu sighed, running a hand through his hair. "It's harder than I thought, watching my best friend go through this. Knowing what we have..." he trailed off, his eyes conveying what he couldn't say aloud.

Ela squeezed his hand briefly. "I know. But we have to trust that they'll find their way, just like we did."

Their moment was interrupted by Alexys, who appeared with a plate piled high with desserts. "Don't mind me," she said, noticing their startled expressions. "Just here for the cake. Carry on with your secret rendezvous."

Ela rolled her eyes fondly. "Very subtle, Alexys."

"Subtlety is overrated," Alexys replied around a mouthful of cake. "Unlike this dessert. Seriously, you two should try this before the chaebol vultures descend and devour everything."

Finally, as the evening wound down, Y/N and Wonwoo found themselves alone for a moment on a balcony overlooking the Seoul skyline. The city stretched out before them, a glittering tapestry of lights and possibilities.

"It's beautiful," Y/N murmured, gazing out at the city lights. For a moment, she allowed herself to drop the perfect bride facade, her shoulders sagging slightly with exhaustion.

Wonwoo looked at her, illuminated by the soft glow of the lanterns. The fatigue evident in the line of her shoulders, the wistfulness in her eyes as she looked out at the city – it all made her seem more real, more human than the porcelain doll she'd appeared as all day. "Yes, it is," he agreed softly, though his eyes never left her face.

Y/N turned to him, and for a moment, the masks slipped away entirely. They were just two people, thrust into an impossible situation, trying to make the best of it. The vulnerability in Y/N's eyes matched the uncertainty Wonwoo felt.

"Wonwoo, I—" Y/N began, her voice hesitant.

"Y/N, dear!" her mother's voice cut through the moment like a knife. "It's time to leave for your honeymoon. The car is waiting."

The spell broken, Y/N and Wonwoo shared a rueful look before making their way back inside. They said their goodbyes, accepted final congratulations, and made their way to the waiting car.

As they settled into the backseat of the luxury vehicle, a heavy silence fell between them. The partition between them and the driver offered a semblance of privacy, but neither seemed to know what to say now that they were truly alone.

From the steps of the hotel, Seung-cheol watched the car pull away, his heart heavy. He'd come to the wedding hoping for... what? A last-minute confession? A dramatic objection? Now, watching the taillights disappear into the Seoul traffic, he felt the finality of the situation settle over him like a weight.

Ela and Mingyu stood together, their hands brushing but not quite holding in deference to the watchful eyes around them. Their own secret weighed on them as they watched their friends drive off into an uncertain future.

Alexys stood with her arm around Ela, for once without a quip. "They'll be okay, right?" she asked, her usual bravado absent.

Ela leaned into her friend's embrace. "I hope so," she said softly. "I really hope so."

The parents watched with satisfaction, already planning their next moves. Mergers to finalize, press releases to craft, the future of their empires to secure.

As the car merged into the Seoul traffic, Y/N and Wonwoo sat side by side, not touching, each lost in their own thoughts. The future stretched out before them, uncertain and daunting. The weight of expectations, of duty, of their own conflicted feelings – it all seemed overwhelming in the quiet of the car.

But as the city lights blurred past the windows, something shifted. Almost imperceptibly, Y/N's hand moved closer to Wonwoo's on the leather seat between them. And after a moment's hesitation, he took it, giving it a gentle squeeze.

They didn't look at each other. They didn't speak. But in that small gesture lay the tiniest seed of hope for Wonwoo – a hope that maybe, just maybe, they could face this uncertain future together. That perhaps, in time, duty could become desire, and an arranged marriage could become something real.

As the car wound its way through the streets of Seoul, taking them towards their honeymoon and the beginning of their life together, that small point of contact between them seemed to hold all the possibility in the world.

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himasgod · 4 months ago

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King Deshret x Reader IV part I

Where Deshret finds out that you are marrying Morax, and goes to great lengths to get to the location and beg for your forgiveness.

(PART IV DONE. I've decided to split this request in two, since I wanted to make it quite long and doing it in one post would be quite long. This part is about Deshret finding out that you're going to marry Morax and the next one, which I'll post in a few hours, will deal directly with the wedding and Deshret interrupting it. Thanks to sailorstar as always and, of course, enjoy <3)

XVII.

The nights in the desert had always been his refuge, a kingdom of endless stars above a sea of golden dunes that only he could rule. The silence, once so comforting, now weighed on his shoulders like a blanket of ice. King Deshret returned to the palace after half a year away, the promise of returning to you still fresh in his mind. He had set out in the hope of bringing you an era of splendor, with Nabu Malikata at his side. But in his obsession with dreams of greatness, he had let himself be carried away by the intoxicating sweetness of the Goddess of Flowers.

When his sandals echoed in the halls, there was no welcome. He did not find you waiting for him with a frown or words of reproach for his prolonged absence. Instead, he was greeted by a desolate palace, as cold as a tomb. The servants avoided his gaze, bowing their heads in silence. Was there something they were not telling him? An inexplicable uneasiness began to stir in his chest.

“Where is the queen?” he asked in a grave voice to one of his oldest servants, whose face was marked by uncertainty.

“Your Majesty… the queen has departed.” The man hesitated, swallowing before adding, “You will find a letter in her chambers.”

The words fell like stones into a bottomless pit. Deshret felt his heart race as he walked through the halls with increasingly hurried steps, almost tripping in his haste to reach the room they once shared. The door, normally ajar to allow the light of the rising sun, was now shut tight. He pushed it hard, almost ripping it off its hinges.

There, in the vastness of the bed he had shared with you, lay a single scroll. Deshret approached slowly, as if the simple act of touching it could trigger a catastrophe. His hands, which had not trembled even in the face of the most fearsome armies, now trembled as he unrolled the letter.

“To King Deshret, who was once my husband: I hereby dissolve our marriage. I am no longer the queen who swore to remain at your side in the eternal dunes. I am leaving, for the fidelity I promised cannot be sustained in the emptiness of a love that has withered.”

The words were sharp, written with the precision of a knife. Each sentence was a reminder of what he had lost in seeking the company of another, of what he had let crumble in his pursuit of power and fleeting pleasures. This was not just a piece of paper; it was the end of an oath he had taken for eternal.

But it was the last line that broke what little remained of his temper:

“I return to my home in Liyue, where the vows I gave you will be extinguished like the embers of a fire that no longer burns. This time, there will be no turning back.”

XVIII.

The weight of your words echoed in his mind as he stood there in the dimness of your empty chambers. You had been so much more than a wife to him: you were the legendary Phoenix Princess, Liyue’s most precious jewel, the daughter of the Phoenix Queen. You had given up your golden destiny alongside Rex Lapis, you had abandoned the fertile valleys of your homeland to accompany the king of a kingdom of sand. And he, blinded by the promise of power alongside Nabu Malikata, had let the glow of that sacrifice fade.

When he was finally able to move, Deshret summoned his advisors, demanding answers. But all he received were evasive glances and empty answers. You had left with a small entourage, taking only what was yours, rejecting all the luxuries he had arranged for your comfort. Your decision had been final, unwavering.

Deshret felt an unparalleled emptiness devour him from within. The great king who had defied the gods was now nothing more than a broken man, a prisoner in his own palace. For the first time in centuries, King Deshret understood what it meant to truly lose. Not by war, not by the betrayal of allies, but by the foolishness of his own heart.

XIX.

A week later, Rukkhadevata arrived at the palace with news he did not wish to hear. She stood before him, compassion veiling her emerald eyes.

“Deshret,” she said softly, “I come with news from Liyue.”

“Speak, Rukkhadevata.” His voice was barely a whisper, as if the mere act of speaking words exhausted him.

Dendro Archon took a deep breath. “Rex Lapis has sent invitations to all the Archons. He is announcing his marriage with the the Phoenix Princess.”

His blood froze in his veins. He felt the world crumble around him, as if the palace walls were about to collapse on him.

“Marriage…?” he repeated in a murmur, unable to process what he heard.

Rukkhadevata nodded regretfully. “She has returned home, Deshret. She has found in Morax the love and stability that you denied her.”

XX.

The days that followed were a whirlwind of anguish. While Nabu Malikata spoke excitedly of the lavish ceremony Liyue was preparing, he could barely hear her. Her words were like a distant echo, lost in the storm of his mind.

He couldn’t bear it. The image of you beside another man, smiling as you once did just for him, consumed him. Morax… his rival, his opposite in so many ways, was taking away what he had cast aside.

“I must see her once more,” he decided, his pride crushed under the weight of his despair. He turned to Rukkhadevata with a plea he never thought he would make.

“Take me to Liyue, I beg you. Let me see her, even one last time. Let me beg her to reconsider, to forgive me… before it’s too late.”

Rukkhadevata watched him, pain in her eyes. She knew it wouldn’t be easy. He knew you had closed your heart forever. But after a long, tense silence, he nodded.

“I will take you, Deshret. But you must prepare for what you will find. It may already be too late. Sometimes, even for the gods, second chances do not exist."

XXI.

And so, the once invincible King Deshret, who defied the gods and dreamed of conquering the heavens, found himself in the position of a broken man, a king who had lost everything because of his own blindness. Now, he was not heading into a battle to win a kingdom, but into a fight for a heart that no longer belonged to him.

As the desert dunes fell behind him and the green valleys of Liyue rose before him, he knew he was facing his final battle. But this time, the price of failure would not be a crown, but the love he himself let slip away.

He was willing to stop that wedding. He was willing to get you back. Even if it cost him his life.

Here is my masterlist, in case you are interested in any more of my work or want to send me a request <3

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simpingforheros · 6 months ago

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Gifted With Love~

Pairing: Jason Todd X Female! Reader

Summary: When a close friend of the Titans turns 21 years old, Dick decides to leave a special present for her.

Warnings: CROPPED TOP JASON wrapped with a bow~💕, Smutty implications, technically kidnapping, bondage, and awkward love confessions.

Author’s Note: Hello, it’s me. I have a pile of toxic Jason fanfics until @jjenthusee blessed me by tagging me in this work of art, so I had to write about it. I didn’t write smut this time because I didn’t know how they would feel about it but let me know if this is good.

++++++++++++++++++++++

Everyone has their own definition of a perfect birthday.

For some it’s traveling off to exciting vacations to tropical getaways, or spoiling themselves with luxurious dinners with loved ones. Others may even throw a larger than life birthday bash.

Those would be what Richard ‘Dick’ Grayson’s definition of a perfect birthday event instead of the horrifying words his beloved friend just spoke to him.

“I don’t really need anything.” The woman says nonchalantly as she finishes filing her field mission report. Her eyes to focused on the monitors to notice Dick frowning.

This weekend was (Y/N)’s birthday, and for the 7th year in a row, the young hero tells him the same thing she always asked for her birthday, Nothing.

“Not even a small get-together with us?” Dick whines as he tries to lean against her desk to get her attention. “It’s not everyday someone turns 21 years old. I’ll even buy you your first legal drink!”

Her chuckles fills the awkwardness in her body as she shakes her head. “Nah, I rather be spend the night alone with Frank.”

Dick practically couldn’t hold his head up after the massive eye roll he gave her at the mention of the stupid cat. He still hadn’t forgiven it for scratching up his favorite costume.

“There has to be something that’ll get you to change your mind…” As his incessant whining gets interrupted by a pinging on her computer.

*Transmission From Red Hood incoming*

A fluttering look of softness passed through her eyes before she accepts the transmission eagerly.

“Titan’s Tower to Red Hood, do you copy?” Her voice professional as she was still clicking on the keyboard.

“Hey, Princess,” Jason purrs out causally causing a small smile to appear on her face. “I got some leads on that case you were looking into. Apparently some of the goons on Black Mask’s gang used to know where some Brother Blood bases are. I’m sending you the details right now along with our wedding planning info.”

(Y/N) rolls her eyes at his joke at the end, but giggles as the familiar warm feeling floods her face. “Okay, Big Guy, I’ll take a look and send you flower arrangements.” She jokes.

Jason’s chuckle causes her smile to widen as they end their call. The reality of her surroundings kick in as her eyes meet Dick’s all knowing smirk, much to her misery.

(Y/N) joined the Teen Titans when she was 14 and fresh out of the hell that created her origin story. She took some time to get comfortable with everyone, but her favorite people have always been Dick and Jason. Her and Dick had a strong sibling bond while her and Jason just had a strong friendship. That may have formed into an unrequited, unlabeled flirtatious situation ship that the pair have been dancing around since Jason returned as the Red Hood.

“I-!” Before Dick could begin with his interrogation, the hero jumps from her seat as she mumbles.

“Well, I better go investigate these leads before the trail gets cold. See ya, Nightwing!” She chirps as she flees from him.

A wicked smirk appears on his face as he realizes what would make this birthday perfect.

++++++++++++++++++++++++

(Y/N) sighs as she finishes walking up her fifth flight of stairs with her arms filled with her birthday takeout.

Her civilian job practically wore her down mentally and physically this week with impending deadlines and mounting additions to her workload. Her Hero life has been surprisingly quiet other than the occasional teasing remark from Dick whenever Jason was brought up in conversation. Thank God Jason wasn’t a Titan.

As she unlocks the door after maneuvering for a moment, she coos out for her beloved elderly cat with a

“Frankie~, mama’s home with our favorite take out.” She says as she places the stuff on the counter. Her eyebrows frown together once she sees that all the lights in her home were on despite her remembering to turning them off.

“Frank?” She calls out to her cat as she realizes he has trotted into the room with a cry. She walks around the counter as she finally looks to the floor to find….a ribbon??

A soft baby pink ribbon was placed on the floor of her apartment. Her eyes followed one direction towards her dining table to see an extravagant display on the table. A heart shaped birthday cake stood proudly with a bunch of little gift bags. The offending ribbon stood out proudly on top of a bottle of whiskey that she suspiciously knows is Jason’s favorite.

“Did Jason do this?” She asked herself as she picks up the bottle. A glittery pink care taped to the front causes immediate doubt to her mind as she opens the card.

HAPPY 21st BIRTHDAY, (Y/N)

FOLLOW THE RIBBON AND FIND YOUR GIFT WRAPPED WITH LOVE FROM ME!

YOUR FAVORITE TITAN

-DICKIE :)

p.s. I took Frank to my apartment so you can enjoy your ‘gift’ <3 ;)

“So that’s where my cat is…” She says with a giggle. As much as she hated that Dick broke in to do all this, she was honestly expecting something worst. At least she can recognize that some of the gifts were from other titans and friends. She quickly sees a familiar brown wrapping paper with a flower pressed into the fold of it.

A bright smile presses into her face as she picks up the gift knowing it was probably a book that Jason picked out for her.

The other gifts can wait a little bit.

Picking up the whiskey and her book, she begins to walk to her bedroom where she notices that the ribbon leads to her destination. Her exhausted sigh fills the air as she begins to wonder what mess Dick left in her sanctuary.

Glitter bomb? Nah she hates that she already had to clean up the glitter he already left. A huge ass bear? Nope, she’s too old for that, but doesn’t put it past him to do that.

As she got closer to the door, a creak can be heard along with a sound of a struggle. Her eye brow quirks as she opens the door not expecting what she finds.

There in the middle of her bedroom was Jason. Tied to a chair with rope and pink ribbons. In his Red Hood costume or what was supposed to be. The glaring difference was the now cropped combat shirt and his cargo pants unzipped with a red ribbon acting as the belt holding his pants together. His holsters were empty and fastened tightly to emphasize the bulging muscles of his thighs. There was three more bows on him that almost made her fragile state break.

One red ribbon wrapped around each bicep, practically struggling against his flexing muscles. And the other was a thick pink ribbon that was loosely tied around his neck and led directly to the ribbon that brought her here.

Her moment of shock finally breaks when Jason whistles at her to get her attention.

“Princess, I need some help here.” He groans as he struggles against his binds. Her body immediately goes into motion as she sets the bottle and gifts to the ground to help him.

“Jay, what happened?” She asks as she helps him out of the chair after undoing the rope. Her eyes almost bulged out of her skull when the fabric of his cargo pants falls a little to tease the tempting V shaped Adonis belt hidden only by the will of the ribbon.

“Dick invited me over to discuss an idea for a birthday party and then Him and Roy ganged up on me and I ended up here.” He explains vaguely as he stretches his sore muscles.

The movement and winding of his muscles under the the altered costume made warmth fill her chest. His combat shirt was now cropped just below his pectoral muscles, showing off his abs. The ribbon on his left arm pops as he stretches his arm back which causes her to come back to earth again.

“I-I’m so sorry.” (Y/N) apologizes as she sits on the bed to sooth her beating heart. “Dick has been bothering me about what I wanted for my birthday and he wouldn’t take no for an answer…”

“So why did he think I would be a good present?” He says as he removes his mask and shows her the smirk on his face.

Shock filled her face as she looks up at him. His broad shoulders filled her vision as he now stands between her legs. The smell of his cologne filled her senses as he reaches over the bed to grab the wrapped present from where it laid. He places it in her hands as his other hand moves to push the hair out of her face.

With a soft peck on her forehead, he whispers,

“Happy Birthday. Time to open your present.”

Her trembling hands moved to open the present as he steps back to give her room, the whiskey bottle now in his hand. As the paper falls to the floor, her eyes soften as she sees what he given her.

A well worn copy of a Jane Austen book. His favorite book. The pages had color coded tabs that she can recall him placing them during their many missions or hangouts.

The table of contents in the front of the book made her heart skip a beat as Jason watches her through the lip of the bottle.

Yellow tabs - moments that remind me of her

Blue tabs - the same feelings I have while looking at her.

Purple tabs - Funny things I think she would like

Green tabs - moments I wanna recreate with her

Pink tabs- How I feel about (Y/N)

Her hands move to open the book to the one singular pink tab she can see through the sea of colored tabs. Her tears filled her vision as she reads the words colored in pink highlighter.

“In vain have I struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.”

“Oh Jay…” She mutters as she looks up at him with a softened gaze, the hints of desire flickering in her eyes as she watches him return it.

“I would have given you a gift card, but i figured that would be too much.” Jason jokes as he finishes a shot of burning whiskey. A tug around his neck brings his eyes down the offending ribboned leash to her foot.

The tangled appendage tugs him to her. He follows her to her arms as she coils him into her embrace as she presses a kiss to his lips. The burning of the whiskey subsiding to sweetness of her lips before she pulls away just a breath from his own.

“I think it was perfect.” She whispers. “But…”

Jason gasps as she gently runs her finger tips down his exposed abdomen and down to the red ribbon holding his pants together. He clicked his tongue to his teeth as he asked,

“Aren’t you suppose to blow out your candle before you open presents?” He teases as his hand cups her face while the other grips her hip. Her smirk almost causes him to moan as the feeling of silk rubbing against his skin distracts him from the feeling of the heavy cargo pants felling slacked against his hips.

“I thought it was my birthday, Jason…” she teases back as she pulls him to her by his jacket. “And I wanna unwrap all my presents…”

+++++++++++++++++++

“YOU LITTLE BASTARD!” Dick curses as he tries to get his domino mask away from the tabby. The trained vigilante was no match to Frank as he dives under the heavy oak bed.

Dick tries to reach under the bed to catch the culprit who destroyed another one of his suits as his phone pings. To his annoyance, he calls over his shoulder.

“Kori! Can you help me get this stupid cat? And see who texted me?

“Coming!” The alien princess sings as she smiles at the message on her before it doubles as she see the message on Dick’s phone as well.

To: Dick

From: (Y/N) the Terror >:D

Thx for my birthday gifts. Do you mind keeping Frank until tomorrow? I got some plans today and I would appreciate it. Thank you!!

To: Kori

From: Red

Plan worked! Me and her are going on a late birthday date after last night. Thanks for making Dick think it was his idea.

++++++++++++++++++++

I hope you guys liked it and let me know if I should make a smut version of this one. Thanks again to @jjenthusee for the inspiration and I hope you enjoyed it.

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@simpingforheros Fanfic. I DO NOT WISH FOR ANY OF MY WORKS TO BE COPIED, STOLEN, OR REPOSTED ON OTHER ACCOUNTS OR WEBSITES WITHOUT CREDIT OR PERMISSION

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #arkham knight #arkham knight jason todd #arkham knight x reader #red hood #arkham knight x you #batman arkham series #batman fanfiction #jason todd x y/n

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weddingfloristlondon · 11 months ago

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Make Your London Wedding a Fairytale with The Floral Decor

Are you dreaming of a romantic and unforgettable London wedding? Look no further than The Floral Decor, your trusted London wedding florist! We use the finest seasonal blooms to create bespoke floral arrangements that perfectly capture your vision. From breathtaking bouquets and centerpieces to stunning ceremony installations, we'll transform your wedding venue into a floral haven.

Let our expert team guide you through the floral selection process, ensuring every detail reflects your unique style and color palette. We'll work tirelessly to bring your wedding flower dreams to life, exceeding your expectations and leaving a lasting impression on your guests.

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misspygmypie · 7 months ago

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The Anniversary

Part of the "Meet & Greet... and more?" Universe Pairing: Lando Norris x reader Words: 1054 Request: By @rose1902 "Lets say its reader and landos anniversary so lando books a reservation or just does something cute for both of them only, where he like leaves the kids at this teammates and celebrates their anniversary. Masterlist

Please do not repost, thank you, and leave some feedback :)

It was the morning of his and Y/N’s first wedding anniversary Lando had been planning for months. The sun was just beginning to pop up over the city as Lando tiptoed around the house, careful not to wake his family. He had a full day of surprises planned for Y/N and the first step was to make sure everything was perfect.

Lando had already arranged for a beautiful bouquet of Y/N’s favorite flowers to be delivered to their home. He had set up a breakfast table with fresh pastries, fruit and coffee and he was preparing to make her a special breakfast in bed. But first, he needed to handle a crucial detail: ensuring their children were in good hands for the day.

He picked up his phone and dialed Max Verstappen’s number. “Hey, Max,” Lando said when Max picked up. “I hope I’m not interrupting your morning.”

“Not at all,” Max replied, his voice cheerful. “What’s up?”

“Are you and Kelly still free to babysit Maebry and Noah today?”

“Of course, we’re on our way shortly and Penelope is actually pretty excited to have some friends to play with for the day.”

With the babysitting arrangement confirmed Lando turned his attention back to the day’s surprises. He had arranged a luxurious spa day for Y/N, followed by a romantic dinner at their favorite restaurant. In between he planned a scenic drive to a secluded spot where they could enjoy a quiet picnic.

While Lando busied himself with last-minute preparations Max and Kelly arrived at the Norris home with five-year-old Penelope, greeted by a cheerful Noah, who was excited to spend time with them today and a curious Maebry, who was still adjusting to the new faces.

“Hey there, little ones,” Kelly said, picking up the little girl from Lando’s arms. “Are you ready for a fun day with us?”

Penelope’s eyes sparkled. “Mom said we’re gonna go to the zoo today,” she told the boy and Noah jumped up excitedly. “That sounds like so much fun!”

A few minutes later he gently placed the tray with the breakfast next to Y/N’s side of the bed and gently shook her awake with a soft kiss on the forehead.

“Good morning, beautiful. Happy anniversary,” he whispered.

Y/N stretched, blinking sleepily and then her eyes fell on the breakfast tray. Her face lit up with surprise but she was also visibly excited. “Lando, thank you so much!”

They enjoyed a lazy breakfast together, laughing and talking about their favorite moments from their time together. After breakfast he handed her a beautifully wrapped gift.

“This isn’t just any gift,” he said with a grin. “I’ve been keeping it a secret for months.”

Y/N unwrapped the present to reveal a delicate locket with two compartments - one for a picture of Maebry and one for a picture of Noah.

“It’s beautiful, Lando. Thank you.”

“I thought it might be a nice way to keep our little ones close to your heart, even when they’re not with us.”

They shared a few more quiet moments together but eventually decided to go and get ready for their day out. Lando had booked a luxurious spa experience, knowing that Y/N deserved some pampering. When they arrived they were greeted by a team of professionals ready to make their day as relaxing as possible.

As they settled into their robes and slippers, Y/N looked at Lando “You really went all out, I can’t believe how thoughtful you’ve been.”

“You deserve it,” Lando chuckled, squeezing her hand. “And besides, it’s our special day. I want it to be perfect.”

The couple enjoyed a series of treatments - a relaxing massage, a refreshing facial and a soak in a cozy hot tub. They spent the day unwinding and reconnecting, enjoying each other’s company without any interruptions and - for once - without kids.

After the spa Lando drove them to a scenic location he had discovered, a secluded park with breathtaking views of the city. The spot was a hidden gem, surrounded by lush greenery. They watched the clouds drift lazily across the sky and Lando took the opportunity to recount some of their favorite memories from their relationship.

“You remember the time we went on that spontaneous road trip?” Lando asked with a grin. “We got lost but ended up finding that little diner with the best pancakes we’ve ever had.”

Y/N laughed, nodding. “How could I forget? We were covered in syrup and laughing the whole time.”

“I can’t believe how lucky I am to have you in my life,” Lando said softly, wrapping his arms around her.

As the evening approached Lando and Y/N arrived at the restaurant, a charming, intimate spot that had become one of their favorites over time. The restaurant was nestled in a quiet part of the city, overlooking the bay. When they walked in, the maître d’ greeted them with a warm smile. “Good evening, Mr. and Mrs. Norris. We’re delighted to have you here for your special occasion.”

Lando returned the smile, taking Y/N’s hand as they were led to their reserved table. Lando pulled out Y/N’s chair and she settled in with a content sigh. “This is perfect, Lando,” she said, looking out into the water. “You’ve really outdone yourself.”

He grinned, pleased with her reaction. “I’m glad you think so. I wanted everything to be just right for you.”

Finally, after an array of delicious appetizers and a main course that was to die for, it was time for dessert. The restaurant’s pastry chef had prepared a special anniversary cake - an indulgent, layered chocolate cake with a rich ganache and a delicate raspberry coulis. The cake was adorned with edible gold leaf and fresh berries, making it a true centerpiece. The message “Happy Anniversary” was elegantly scripted in chocolate on the plate.

As they dug into the decadent dessert, Lando raised his glass for a toast. “To us and to many more years of love and happiness. You make every single day better and I’m so grateful to have you by my side.”

Y/N’s eyes sparkled as she clinked her glass with his. “To us,” she agreed. “Thank you for making this day so unforgettable. I love you more than words can express.”

________

AN: I hope you like it and if not let me know and I can rewrite 😊🫶

Taglist: @eloriis @pacifierbby @landossainz @littlegrapejuice @barcelonaloverf1life @poppyflower-22 @itsjustfranzi @vickykazuya @sltwins

#lando imagine #lando norris imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #lando x noah #lando norris x reader #ln4 x reader #lando x reader #lando fluff

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beegomess · 7 months ago

Text

Your marriage with them || Slytherin Boys

Summary: This time, the title describes it well… Warnings: None.

Requests are open!

Blaise Zabini

It was on a sunny afternoon, at one of the idyllic country estates of the Zabini family, that your wedding with Blaise came to life. The setting, though unpretentious, exuded a serene elegance. The estate was situated on a vast property, surrounded by green fields stretching as far as the eye could see. The ceremony took place outdoors, under a clear blue sky, with subtle decor that appeared natural and unpretentious, yet it was evident that every detail had been carefully chosen.

The altar was a simple structure, adorned with white and green flowers that blended perfectly with the surroundings. The chairs, arranged in elegant lines, were dressed in soft-toned linen fabrics, creating a pleasant contrast with the green field backdrop. The sound of birds singing and the gentle breeze completed the tranquil and intimate atmosphere of the event.

The guests, many of whom were close friends and family, appreciated the sophisticated simplicity of the setting. The reception featured an outdoor dinner with refined dishes served informally, allowing everyone to feel at ease. The day concluded with a sunset celebration, marked by lively conversations and laughter, in an environment where elegance met natural beauty.

Draco Malfoy

The wedding with Draco was a spectacle of grandeur and tradition, reflecting the prestige and magnitude of the families involved. The ceremony took place in a splendidly decorated church, whose interior was an imposing example of classical architecture. The environment was filled with luxury and refinement: crystal chandeliers hung from the high ceiling, casting a soft light over the meticulously crafted details.

The altar, adorned with opulent floral arrangements in shades of white and gold, seemed like an extension of the church itself, harmonizing with the columns and walls embellished with marble details and gold frames. The main aisle was filled with guests, all dressed in their finest attire, giving the event a royal air. The sound of organ music filled the space, creating a solemn and majestic atmosphere.

The reception was equally grand, held in the main hall of the Malfoy family estate, distinguished by its refined decor and luxurious details. Guests enjoyed an exquisite banquet and danced to the music of a live orchestra. Every moment of the wedding was planned to emphasize the significance of the occasion and the connection between the families, creating a celebration that will be remembered as a milestone of elegance and prestige.

Lorenzo Berkshire

Your wedding with Lorenzo Berkshire took place in a serene field, immersed in the simplicity and natural beauty that characterize the Berkshire family aesthetic. The location was carefully chosen to offer a tranquil and elegant setting, with robust trees and blooming white flowers.

The ceremony was held outdoors, with a simple yet sophisticated altar, decorated with white and green floral arrangements that complemented the natural palette of the field. The chairs, arranged in a semicircle, were dressed with linen covers and ribbons in neutral tones, blending with the surroundings. The blue sky and gentle sun created a pleasant and calm atmosphere for the celebration.

The reception followed the same refined simplicity, with an outdoor dinner served under elegantly decorated tents. The menu included light and sophisticated dishes prepared with fresh, high-quality ingredients. The overall atmosphere was one of relaxation and intimate celebration, with friends and family enjoying a natural and elegant setting where the beauty of the field complemented the discreet sophistication of the occasion.

Mattheo Riddle

The wedding with Mattheo had to be conducted quickly and practically, reflecting the urgency with which both of you wanted to seal the union. The ceremony took place in a small and cozy garden at the back of one of his family's houses. The decor, done in a hurry, was simple but had a touch of homey charm.

The space was decorated with field flowers and candles, creating an intimate and warm environment. The ceremony area was improvised with an arch of white and green flowers, giving the place a fresh look. Simple wooden chairs were arranged around the makeshift altar, where the vows were exchanged.

The few friends present shared a simple feast, with homemade food and drinks. The celebration was marked by a sense of urgency and love, with everyone present understanding the importance and intensity of the moment. The simplicity of the event reflected Mattheo's and your desire to unite quickly, and even in its simplicity, the love and dedication were clearly present.

Theodore Nott

The wedding took place at the end of a golden afternoon, in a seaside garden belonging to a majestic house on the coast. The setting was breathtaking, with the deep blue sea shimmering under the soft light of the setting sun.

The garden was adorned with natural and refined decor, with white flowers and green arrangements that enhanced the beauty of the environment. The chairs were arranged in a semicircle configuration, offering panoramic views of the sea and the sunset-lit horizon. The altar, simple yet elegant, was framed by a curtain of flowers and leaves, matching the garden’s color palette.

The ceremony was enveloped in a warm glow, as the last rays of sun reflected on the sea, creating a magical and romantic atmosphere. The reception continued outdoors, with a sophisticated dinner served under a large tree, where guests enjoyed the spectacular view and relaxed ambiance. The combination of the natural setting with elegant details created a dreamlike scene, capturing the essence of love and glamour.

Tom Riddle

The wedding with Tom was an urgent and symbolic celebration, held in the Chamber of Secrets, a location that, despite its dark and mysterious character, became the backdrop for a deeply personal and significant moment. The ceremony had to be conducted quickly due to the need to remain hidden, but Tom insisted that all the elements he wanted be present.

The Chamber was temporarily transformed with simple but effective decor. Magical torches cast a soft light on the stone walls, and a series of white candles were placed around the makeshift altar. Discreet floral arrangements, consisting of white lilies and dark flowers, were positioned at strategic points, providing an elegant contrast to the somber environment.

The few carefully selected guests were present to witness the union, marked by sincere vows and a sense of urgency. The ceremony was brief and intense, reflecting both the gravity of the situation and Tom’s deep desire to seal the union as quickly as possible. Despite the improvised decor and unusual setting, the moment was filled with significance, with Tom ensuring that every detail reflected his commitment and desire to build a future together, regardless of the circumstances.

_______________________________

masterlist

I loved writing this, and I hope you enjoyed it too!!

xoxo, bee🫶🏼✨

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smoooothoperator · 1 month ago

Text

Rewrite The Stars

02: Brave

Lando Norris x surgeon!OC (Lyra Montgomery)

runnaway bride, forbidden love, destinated lovers, love triangle, second chance, road trip, slow burn

Words: 3.3k

Warnings: Lando POV, anxiety, unrequired love

Masterlist

previous part | next part

a/n: Are you guys excited to read what comes next? What do you think will happen??

If you want to be tagged don't forget to message me!

Every way of feedback is very welcomed

🏎️

The hotel is stunning.

Grand yet intimate, with towering arched windows that let in the golden afternoon light, illuminating the soft gold tones of the decorations. The courtyard is meticulously arranged, white roses cascading from centerpieces, lining the long aisle that stretches toward a floral arch at the altar.

Everything is harmonious, perfectly selected, elegant without being too much. It looks expensive but simple, luxurious but romantic.

It looks exactly like something Lyra would have dreamed of.

I walk through the space slowly, dragging my fingers along the backs of the white velvet chairs, feeling the soft fabric under my fingertips as I force myself to take it all in.

Every single detail, every single flower arrangement, it’s all familiar.

Because I’ve heard about it before. Because I remember the night she described it to me in perfect detail, years ago, before either of us had even thought about marriage as something real, when it was still just an idea, a fantasy.

We were fifteen.

We had been lying in her backyard after one of her sisters’ weddings, the cool grass beneath us, the scent of summer in the air and a plate full of sweets we stole from the kids table.

"I want my weddig to be perfect."

I had turned my head to look at her, rolling my eyes in that way I always did when she got carried away.

"It's just a wedding, Lyra." I sighed.

She had gasped, appalled, before shoving me so hard that the air left my lungs for a second.

"It is not just a wedding, Lando!” she exclaimed, blushing deeply. “Weddings are special, and mine is going to be exactly how I want it. Roses everywhere, like an actual fairytale, but not red ones. White or maybe light pink. No, white is better... And I don’t want it in some boring church. I want it outside, maybe by the sea, where you can hear the waves in the background while I walk down the aisle. And my dress has to be simple but elegant, nothing too over the top, but something that makes me feel like I belong in a storybook..."

I let her talk, like I always did, letting her fill the silence with her plans and her dreams because I liked the way her voice sounded when she got excited, because I liked the way her eyes sparkled when she talked about things she loved.

Now, standing here, staring at the reality of that childhood dream, I feel something twist in my chest, something that makes it almost impossible to breathe.

Because this is it, this is what she always wanted.

And none of it, not a single part of it, has anything to do with me.

I let out a slow breath, dragging a hand down my face, willing the ache in my chest to disappear, but it doesn't. It just sits there, heavy and suffocating, like a weight pressing down on me.

I don’t know why I came. Maybe because I needed to see it for myself, needed to face the reality of it, needed to let it hurt so badly that I would finally get it through my head that this isn’t a nightmare I’m going to wake up from. This isn’t something I can change. This is her life. Her choice.

And I was never a part of it.

Maybe I always thought I would be. Maybe I was stupid enough to believe that at some point, eventually, I was going to tell her. That there would be a right time, a perfect moment where I could finally say the words I had been swallowing since I was twelve years old, the words that had been buried under years of friendship and missed chances.

But that moment never came.

She never looked at me the way I looked at her. And I had never had the courage to say anything before it was too late.

I glance up toward the hotel, where I know she must be right now.

I wonder what she’s doing. Is she nervous? Excited? I wonder if she’s looking at herself in the mirror and feeling like the happiest version of herself.

And then I wonder if she’s thought about me at all.

If, even for a second, I crossed her mind today.

I have to go inside. I have to find her, talk to her, say something, anything. I have to tell her how I feel, even if it doesn’t matter anymore. Even if it never mattered in the first place.

But what good would it do?

She made her choice.

And it wasn’t me.

I spent years imagining what she would look like on her wedding day.

It wasn’t intentional. But sometimes, the idea of it came into my mind when I least expected it. During long flights home, during late nights alone, during the silence between races when my mind wasn’t occupied enough to keep her away.

I thought of her in white, of the way her orange hair might be styled, the way her smile would look softer, gentle, full of something I never got to have.

And yet, nothing I had ever imagined compared to the reality of seeing her there.

Frozen in front of the door to his room, quiet as a statue,with her fingers clenched so tightly on the dress that her knuckles were white.

For a moment, I can’t move.

I don’t think she even realizes I’m standing there. Her breathing is shallow, her shoulders too stiff, as if she’s waiting for something.

I shouldn’t be here. I know that.

I should turn around, walk away before she notices me, before I make this harder than it already is. But then, just as I will myself to leave, her hand lifts slightly, as if she’s going to push the door open.

But she doesn’t. She hesitates.

And that hesitation makes something crack open in my chest.

I don’t think about it. I just take a step forward.

“Lyra?”

The word barely leaves my lips before she flinches, turning sharply to face me.

For the first time in over a year, I see her. Really see her.

And she is so damn beautiful it almost brings me to my knees.

The dress, the makeup, the way her hair falls down on her back, it’s all exactly how I imagined it, and yet it feels so painfully wrong, because she’s not wearing it for me.

Her wide eyes search mine, and for a moment, neither of us moves.

I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t this. It wasn’t her looking at me like I’m the last person she expected to see, like she doesn’t know how to breathe now that I’m here.

Like maybe, just maybe, she missed me too.

She swallows hard, her lips parting slightly before she finally says my name.

“Lando.”

God, I missed the way she says it.

It’s the same voice, the same familiar tone, and yet something about it sounds different.

I blink, my throat tightening as I exhale, trying to ground myself in this moment.

“You-” I start, but the words die in my throat as my gaze flickers past her, to the closed door she had been staring at.

Something heavy settles in my stomach.

I don’t ask. I don’t let myself ask.

But I don’t need to.

“I-” she mumbles, her voice barely audible as a whisper.

I can see it in her face, in the way she won’t meet my eyes for longer than a second, in the way she’s gripping her dress like she’s afraid she might fall apart if she lets go.

“Are you okay?” I asked softly, trying to ease the anxiety she might be feeling.

She should say yes. She should laugh, roll her eyes, tell me I have no right to ask her that after all this time. But she doesn’t.

She just stands there, silent, and for the first time since I’ve known her, Lyra Montgomery doesn’t have an answer.

Her fingers tremble around the bouquet, her shoulders rising and falling too quickly, and something in me breaks.

I was supposed to come here and tell her how I feel, that was the plan: to find her before the wedding, to say everything I had been too much of a coward to say for the past ten years. That I loved her. That I had always loved her. That I should have said something sooner, that maybe it wouldn’t have changed anything, but I needed her to know.

But now, looking at her, really looking at her, I know I can’t.

Because this isn’t about me. It never was.

She’s standing here in her wedding dress, minutes away from marrying someone else, and she looks terrified.

Something is wrong.

And I don’t know what it is.

But I can do one thing. I can be there for her, just this once.

“Do you want to get out of here for a bit?” I sighed, trying to organize my own thoughts and feelings, walking closer to her.

She blinks, caught off guard.

“What?”

“Not far” I add quickly, tilting my head toward the end of the hallway. “Just… somewhere quiet.”

Somewhere away from that door. Somewhere away from whatever is making her grip her dress like it’s the only thing keeping her from falling apart.

She hesitates.

And then, slowly, she nods.

I don’t say anything else. I just start walking, knowing she’ll follow.

And she does.

We step outside through one of the hotel’s side entrances, the cool air biting at my skin. The garden is empty, the wedding setup untouched, waiting for the guests to arrive.

I lean against the low stone wall near a fountain, watching her as she stands a few steps away.

I missed her.

I missed her so much it physically hurts.

“I missed you” I say, the words slipping out before I can stop them.

She stiffens, inhaling sharply.

I can see the war on her face, the way she bites the inside of her cheek, the way her grip on her dress tightens just slightly.

“Lando…”

“Did you miss me?” I ask. My voice is steady, but there’s something raw underneath it.

She exhales sharply, looking away, shaking her head like she doesn’t know how to answer.

“This is ridiculous. You show up after what, a year? And now you want to talk?”

I flinch. But I deserve that.

“I didn’t come here to fight, Lyra.”

“Then why did you come?” she challenges, crossing her arms.

I hesitate. Because I can’t tell her the truth.

I can’t tell her that I came here to confess, that I wanted to be selfish just for once in my life.

So instead, I say the only thing I can.

“Do you really want to get married?”

She stills.

And that’s when I know.

She doesn’t answer. She doesn’t snap at me, doesn’t tell me I’m an idiot for even asking.

She just looks at me, and in that moment, I know that no matter how much she loves him, no matter how much she tries to convince herself otherwise, she’s not sure.

Not really.

“I should go. I have to get ready” she said, forcing a smile.

I swallow hard, glancing away before I do something stupid.

I don’t say anything else. Before she turns around to leave, I just reach into my pocket, pulling out a set of keys.

“What-”

I stand in frint of her and grab her free hand, placing the keys and pressing them on her palm. I let my fingers linger on her skin just for a second, noticing how sweaty her palms are, how nervous she is.

“They’re for my car,” I say, taking a step back. “and my apartment.”

“What?” her breath catches, looking at the keys.

“If you need to get away” I continue. “If you need… a way out.”

She stares at the keys like they might burn her. She should throw them back at me. She should walk away. But she doesn’t.

She takes them. She puts them inside of the pocket of her dress.

And when she finally leaves, she doesn’t look back.

I sit in the last row with my hands clasped together, elbows resting on my knees, my foot tapping against the stone floor in a nervous rhythm I can’t seem to stop. I am away from the carefully arranged guests, away from the family, the friends, the people who have every right to be here. Because I don’t belong.

I never have.

And maybe that’s why I don’t hear her approach.

The sharp click, click, click of her heels against the stone floor doesn’t register until it’s too late.

Until she’s right there.

I didn't move at first. I don’t even look up. I know who it is before she speaks, before the familiar scent of her overpowering perfume invades my senses.

Elena Montgomery.

Lyra’s mother.

“Lando Norris” she purrs, voice smooth as silk and twice as sharp. “I must admit it, I was hoping you would show up.”

Slowly, I look up, meeting the icy blue eyes of the woman who has hated me since the moment I met her daughter. She stands beside my chair, dressed in an elegant blue gown, diamonds at her throat, and a manicured hand resting delicately on her hip.

She doesn’t sit. She just wants to look down at me.

And I say nothing.

Because I know her game. And I won’t fucking play it.

“Tell me, does it hurt?” she asks, tilting her head, studying me like I’m something pathetic.

I clench my jaw, but don’t answer.

But she keeps talking, making my blood boil in my veins.

“Watching her marry someone else” she pauses, lets the words sink in, then continues. “You came all this way, sat yourself in the back like a loyal little dog, but you’ll never have her.”

I exhale slowly, turning my gaze back to the altar, to the empty aisle.

Elena follows my gaze, and when she speaks again, her voice is even softer, almost sweet, but tainted with poison as always.

“You know, I sent you the invitation.”

That makes me look at her.

“What?” I mumble.

“Oh, Lyra didn’t know that, of course. But I made sure you got it” she leans in slightly, lowering her voice as if sharing a secret. “I wanted you to see it happen, Lando. I wanted you to sit here and watch as she becomes Edward’s wife.”

The words land deep in my chest, stabbing me with a precision only a woman like her is capable of.

And she knows it. That’s why she’s smiling.

Because this is a game to her. A victory. A final, calculated move to remind me that I was never good enough.

She straightens, brushing an invisible speck of dust off her dress, and then placing her hand on my shoulder, her nails pressing into the material of the shirt.

“You were always a foolish little boy, clinging to something that was never yours to begin with” she sighs.. “But I suppose I should thank you. Your presence here today makes this even more satisfying-”

“Are you done?” I interrupted her.

She frowned and groaned, taking away her hand from my shoulder and putting a fake smile on her lips. I don’t even blink as Elena scoffs and takes a step back, as if I’m no longer worth her time.

And as she walks away, I sit there, completely still, eyes locked on the path Lyra is supposed to take.

The moment the string quartet starts playing, the air shifts.

The delicate melody washes over the crowd like a wave, and again, everything feels scripted, like we’re part of a performance where every move has been choreographed, where everyone knows their place, their role

And her role, the perfect bride, walking toward the perfect groom, in the perfect wedding, begins now.

I exhale slowly, keeping my face neutral as every pair of eyes turns toward the entrance.

And then, she appears.

Lyra.

She walks slowly, arm hooked with her father’s, bouquet gripped tightly in her hands. Too tightly. The knuckles of her fingers are pale against the delicate flowers.

No one else sees it.

No one else notices the way her chest rises and falls in quick, shallow breaths. No one else sees the way she blinks a little too often, or the way her fingers tremble against the silk of her dress.

But I do.

I see her.

And I know she’s not okay.

I can feel it, no matter how much time has passed, no matter how many miles stretched between us.

I watch her carefully, my pulse thrumming against my ribs, my stomach twisted into something sharp and uneasy.

And then I realize, she’s searching for something.

No.

She’s searching for someone.

For a second, my breath catches in my throat..

Her green eyes move over the crowd, barely lingering on the guests, skipping past familiar faces. She looks toward the altar, where Edward is standing, waiting, his expression unreadable.

But then her gaze moves past him.

And she finds me.

It’s only a fraction of a second, but it’s enough.

Enough for me to see the raw, desperate emotion in her eyes.

She looks at me like she needs me. Like she’s begging me to say something, to do something.

And I can’t.

I can’t tell her what to do. I can’t make this choice for her.

So I do the only thing I can.

I nod.

Just slightly. Just enough to tell her that it’s okay. That she can do this. That if she wants to walk down that aisle, if she wants to say yes, I won’t stop her.

But the second I do it, something changes.

Her breath stutters.

And then she takes a step back.

My stomach drops.

I see the exact moment the panic overtakes her, the exact second she realizes she can’t do it.

Her father turns to her, confused, whispering something under his breath, but she doesn’t respond.

And then, suddenly she moves. She runs.

She lifts the hem of her dress and turns around, running away from her father, the veil slipping from her hair as she disappears down the path, away from the altar, away from Edward, away from the life everyone expected her to walk into.

And for a moment, there’s nothing but silence.

And then, chaos erupts.

A woman screams. Lyra’s mother is on her feet, hands pressed to her mouth in absolute horror. People stand, murmur, panic.

And me?

I laugh.

Quietly, at first. Just a breathy laugh. But then it grows, making my stomach hurt and my cheeks turn red full of tears as I feel the lack of air because of the attack of laughter.

Because this is so Lyra.

Of course she would wait until the very last second to make a decision.

I don’t even glance at Edward. I don’t care what his expression is, if he’s chasing after her or if he’s frozen in place, humiliated in front of Monaco’s elite.

Because all I care about is that she got away.

I slip out of the crowd before anyone can notice, disappearing through a side entrance and onto the street.

I don’t need to guess where she went.

I knew the second I put those keys in her hand and she put them in the pocket of her dress.

The taxi ride to my apartment is quiet, my fingers tapping against my knee, my pulse still racing from the adrenaline of watching her run away.

And then, when I open the door of my apartment with the in case keys, the scent of her perfume is the first thing that hits me.

She's here.

Sitting on my couch, still in her wedding dress, barefoot, knees pulled up to her chest as she drinks a can of Coca-Cola while watching the screen of the television in my living room.

Her shoulders rise and fall with each uneven breath, and when she hears me, her head snaps up.

And the first thing I see?

The relief in her eyes.

taglist

@alltoomaples @helvegen-s @leptitlu @mendes-bae @cmleitora @elisysd @mellowluka @a-beaverhausen

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