#or is their one? anyone have a fic like this?
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bonesandpoemsandflowers · 5 hours ago
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I was like, hang on, hang on, CAN authors easily see their bookmarks...? I've never tried. and
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lmao
thank you, thegreatwave.
As an ao3 author, I can't overstate the impact of comments, but I feel like we don't talk about bookmark notes enough. Comments are usually addressed directly to the author, but most bookmark notes are either what the reader wants to remind themselves or what they want to tell other readers. And I think that can be so insightful and also hilarious. Here's a few of my favorites:
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Bookmark note people deserve more recognition. You guys are amazing!
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navybrat817 · 1 day ago
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Cooking Together
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Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Summary: Bucky asks you to cook a meal with him.
Word Count: Over 1.5k
Warnings: Fluff, longing, pining, canon divergent neighbor AU, flirting of sorts, mention of HYDRA, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).
A/N: Short and sweet for @stellar-solar-flare’s Starry Winter Sky Event! I went with cooking together and Neighbor AU as a small expansion of this nonsense. February has had some lingering January energy, and I hope you enjoy what I was able to write! ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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If you asked Bucky if he thought he was a good cook, he’d say he was decent. He retained some of what his mom taught him many years ago and he carefully followed recipes once he was completely free of HYDRA. It was admittedly a bit of a rough go at first. Being able to choose what he could eat was a foreign concept after he didn't have the choice for so long. It got better each day. Every single meal he got to reclaim a piece of himself by making the choice of what he did and didn’t want.
Until today, he always cooked alone.
“Thanks for inviting me over,” you smiled, graciously accepting the apron he handed you.
Bucky had moved into the building a few months ago and you lived across the hall. As far as neighbors went, you were the best. Since day one, you always greeted him with a smile and a kind word. You never played your music too loud or disturbed anyone. Alpine adored you, which told him everything he needed to know since she was the best judge of character. And you never once objected to looking out for her when he had to leave for a mission.
Out of paranoia, he left harmless little “traps” to see if you'd snoop through anything the very first time you went over. Nothing that would hurt you or draw your attention, of course, but something that would let him know if anyone tampered with anything. You didn't. You were a genuinely good and respectful person, and that made him trust you more.
“Thanks for accepting the invitation. And allow me,” he offered, stepping behind you to help you tie it. His fingers lingered on the fabric and he took the moment to inhale your sweet scent before he stepped away. He didn't want to be a creep. “And it’s the least I could do since you offered to watch Alpine. Again.”
“I love watching her. She’s wonderful.”
The photos you sent were something he always looked forward to when he was away. Some of the captions you added made him laugh and smile. His favorite was a selfie you took with Alpine’s cheek against yours. He saved it as “my girls”, which you weren’t aware of.
Because you technically weren’t his girl.
“Well, she adores you,” Bucky smiled. He adored you, too. It stunned him when he found out you were single, and he was selfishly thankful for that. 
“I’ll have to get her another toy,” you said, your lips curling in a small smile. “If that’s okay with you.”
He laughed, a warm and easy sound. “Between the two of us, she’s spoiled rotten and she wouldn’t want it any other way.”
He never expected to be a cat dad, but life surprised him. In fact, it also surprised him that Alpine wasn’t camping out nearby or brushing against one of your legs. She was a smart cat and likely somehow sensed that he wanted alone time with you.
“Well, she deserves it,” you winked before things went quiet.
One of the nice things about hanging out with you was that he didn't mind any bouts of silence. They didn’t feel awkward or tense. In those quiet moments and stolen glances he felt like he had the best conversations with you. He was happy and felt safe being in the same space as you.
“You know,” Bucky began as he set the ingredients on the counter. He lucked out by having a decent sized kitchen since he took up a lot of space. “If I was a better neighbor, I would've just cooked a meal for you while you relaxed.”
It felt romantic for the two of you to cook together, but you weren't together and now he felt like an idiot. A gentleman would've made you a meal and pampered you. Or take you out for a nice meal. He hadn’t dressed up, opting for his jeans and a trademark Henley while you wore a sundress that had his mind racing with both sweet and filthy images. He didn't have flowers for you either.
His “game”, as Sam would say, was rusty.
“You're a great neighbor, Bucky. The best neighbor I’ve had,” you defended. He tried to be a good neighbor and person. A minor way to make up for some of his forced wrongdoings. “And cooking something together is fun! We could even try something at my place next week if you'd like.”
Bucky almost knocked the salt over, his eyes wide. “Really?” You were inviting him over to do this again?
“Yeah, really,” you replied, taking a moment to scan the simple recipe in the cookbook. You always had the cutest expression when you concentrated on something, and he didn’t want to choose something too difficult for the first meal. “We can take turns picking things out to try and trade off cooking at your place and mine. You can even bring Alpine over if you want.”
He suddenly had the image of you in his arms, dancing around the kitchen as you both waited for a meal in the oven to cook. Soft music, low lighting, his hands on your hips, and a tender smile on your face. Stealing a gentle kiss and keeping his eyes open only for a moment so he could see for himself that it wasn't a dream.
“Yeah,” he breathed, pulling his hair back in a ponytail and washing his hands to distract himself from his thoughts. “I’d really like that.”
“Great,” you exhaled. His heart beat faster when he caught you staring. He liked to pretend the look in your eyes was longing. “Sorry. You just…” you cleared your throat and gestured to his head. “You have really nice hair.”
The compliment had his heart racing even faster. “I have nice hair?” he asked. Your fingers would feel amazing in his hair.
You ducked your head for a moment before you met his gaze with a soft smile. “Yeah, you do.”
“Thanks,” he smiled back, his shoulder brushing yours when he stood beside you. Electricity lightly cracked between you. Did you feel it, too? “Um, I peeled the carrots before you got here. Would you like to cut them?”
“Oh, I think you’re better with a knife than I am,” you giggled.
He puffed his chest out and twirled the knife he selected in his hand without thinking about it. Part of him was showing off because, well, he wanted you to stare again. “How about I help you?”
“Help me? How?” you asked.
“Here.” He placed the knife in your hand and stood behind you once he had the carrots on the cutting board. “I’m going to preface this by saying I’m far from an expert, but I usually cut them into decent sized pieces before I dice them.”
“I trust your judgement,” you said, glancing over your shoulder. Your faces were close enough that he could kiss you if he leaned in a fraction. But he didn’t. He wouldn’t take what you didn’t offer.
Carefully placing his hands over yours once you faced forward, he felt that electricity crackle again as he helped guide you. He angled his hips so he didn’t press against you, but still stayed close. “See? You’re a natural,” he whispered against your ear when you made the first cut through the vegetable.
He heard the hitch in your breath and how your blood rushed faster in your veins. He felt your skin warm under his touch as you cut the next piece. He also caught the slight tremble that went through your frame when his grip tightened, but he didn’t sense any fear. He hadn't detected any sort of fear or disgust since he came into your life.
But what he sensed in this very moment was excitement.
“Thanks, Bucky,” you whispered back. The way you spoke his name was breathy, beautiful, and he longed to hear that again. “You’re a great teacher.”
“I’m not,” he said, thankful your back was to him so you wouldn’t see the pink that tinted his cheeks. “But I appreciate it.”
“Yeah, you are,” you stated, tempting him to turn your head toward him to kiss you. If he did that and you stabbed him, he wouldn’t blame you or hold it against you. “And Bucky?”
“Yeah?”
“I really am glad you invited me over,” you said.
He stopped himself from putting his face in the crook of your neck. “I am, too,” he said, smiling to himself as he helped you finish up. “And now that you’ve mastered the carrots, we can chop the onions.”
“Onions? Oh, no,” you groaned playfully.
As the sound of both of you laughing a second later filled the room, Bucky was glad he went with his gut and asked for you two to cook together.
And maybe before the night was over, he’d ask you out on a date and prove to himself that his game wasn't completely hopeless.
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I wonder just how he'll ask you out! Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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writing-for-marvel · 2 days ago
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Take Me Home
Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader
Summary: Bucky starts fiddling with his dog tags while out with your friends.
Prompt: comforting one another
Warnings: mentions of Bucky’s past trauma but not detailed
Word count: 1.0k
A/N: this is my submission for @stellar-solar-flare’s Starry Winter Sky Event 💜 just a short fic as I get back into writing. Banners by @vase-of-lilies
Masterlist | Ask me anything! | Library
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You’re sure Bucky doesn’t even realise that he’s doing it, but it signals as clearly as if he had shot up a flare that he needs you.
The fingers of his flesh hand fiddle with the metal of his dog tags absentmindedly, nervously, and you can see by the distant gaze of his eyes that he has completely checked out of the conversation.
In all the time you have known Bucky, you’ve been aware of his short social battery, and though some people in your life put it down as him being ‘grumpy’, you know the real root cause is much deeper than him simply liking to keep to himself.
Making your way across the room, eyes watching him retreat even further into himself and turning over the dog tag with his fingers with every additional input of the conversation he had been involved with, your heart descends deeper into the cavernous pit his clear suffering is carving into your stomach.
You know Bucky well enough that he’ll suffer through this internal anguish because he thinks you want to stay at this gathering with your friends, rather than coming to find you right away so you can both retreat into the comfort of your shared apartment.
But you’re not about to let him endure this torment for a second longer.
“Hey guys, sorry to interrupt.” You cut across the active conversation, putting your arm around Bucky’s waist, snuggling up to his side, really not that remorseful about disturbing their discussion when you know the outcome will relieve your love of his pain. “My tummy isn’t feeling that great, Buck, do you mind taking me home?”
There is relief mixed with genuine concern for you in his baby blues when these words come out of your mouth that somehow make you love him even more - he’s currently bearing the brunt of his own pain for you, but the moment you mention a made up illness he’s more worried about your health than his own.
Bucky’s arms snake around you, finally releasing his fidgeting hold on his dog tags, as he places a gentle kiss to your temple.
“Of course my love.” Bucky says, only letting you go for a brief moment as you both say proper goodbyes to your friends, before he intertwines his fingers with yours and leads you out the door to start the short walk to your apartment.
It’s chilly outside the restaurant, a soft breeze making you shiver, and Bucky doesn’t hesitate to shrug off his jacket and place it around your bare shoulders.
Ever the gentleman your thoughtful, doting boyfriend is.
“Do you think it was something you ate?” It’s genuinely sweet how naive he can be sometimes, but you are also aware that it comes from a place of trauma where his brain can’t make the connection that anyone would do something selflessly for him simply because they love him.
“Bucky, I’m feeling fine.”
“But your tummy.”
“I could see you had used all of your social battery, and I know you don’t like to be the reason we leave places early, so I made it up.” He stops dead in the street. There’s a moment, a couple short breaths, when Bucky simply looks at you with wide, affectionate eyes, as if it’s taking him a moment to process what you have done for him.
“You made it up?” It’s not an accusatory tone, instead one that almost sounds astonished. You nod with a small smile. “So I didn’t have to be the reason we left?”
“Mhmm. I only want to be out places when we both want to be there. There is no reason for you to feel uncomfortable and have to endure that for me.” You caress his cheek, feeling the stubble on his jaw as he leans into your gentle touch.
“But darling-” He starts, but you trace your thumb over his bottom lip as a distraction and to interrupt, not to be rude, but to show Bucky you don’t play when it comes to his safety and comfort.
“No buts Buck. We’re in this together, you and me. If the roles were reversed, and you knew I was feeling out of place like that, would you have let me stay?”
His lips curl inward slightly, involuntarily, in a way you have come to know occurs when he doesn’t want to admit he’s in the wrong. Without speaking, with just a grateful look that communicates more than he could articulate with words, he kisses you ardently in the middle of the sidewalk.
“You don’t have to hide how you feel from me. I love every part of you, even the parts you try hiding away from the world. You’re safe with me.” Placing your hand on his chest, his eyes regard you with adoration - you’re not sure what thoughts are racing through his mind, but you can see the cogs turning behind his pupils.
“You’re too good to me, you know that?”
“Bucky, when are you going to learn that unconditional love means no strings attached? You deserve to be loved wholeheartedly for exactly who you are. And I promise to do just that, for the rest of my life.” You can feel his heartbeat quicken underneath the pads of your fingers.
He encompasses your hand in both of his, leans forward and speaks with a low tone, for your ears only.
“I love you too. I promise, I’m really gonna try to do better with communicating how I feel. Old habits are hard to break, but I really would do anything for you.”
With that, Bucky pulls you close, wrapping his arm around your shoulder, like you’re his sturdy anchor grounding him as he tries to navigate the choppy, rough sea which has been his life. As you continue home, the weight of the evening slips away, replaced by the comforting feeling that regardless how traumatic his life has been up until now, you would always be a safe place for him to come back home to.
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soleilapproves · 2 days ago
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Can I make a request for a pregnant y/n? Like jjk men and y/n get to the hospital when she goes into labor and they’re only expecting one baby but she ends up having twins? I’d love to know their reactions 😭🩷
Girl, realistically, I don’t think that’s possible with ultrasounds and stuff.
BUT, for the sake of the fic, let’s just say that you’re in a time period where ultrasounds don’t exist and physicians rely on taking your pulse or something to see if you’re pregnant or not.
cw: pregnancy, small descriptions of birth
Nanami is always a level headed and cool man. So when you popped out two kids instead of one, he had the most calm expression ever, only stroking your cheek and cooing in your ears about how well you did. Unbeknownst to you, he’s trying his best not to rip his own hair out. The house was only ready for one baby—one nursery, one nanny, one chest of clothes. Now he was going to have work just as hard to set up the same for another baby in a very short time. You don’t notice his hand trembling when the midwife tells him that there’s another kid in the equation, his main focus would probably be on making sure you’re feeling better considering that you’re in the most overwhelming phase of being a new mom. All in all, I think he’d be very scared, but he’d face this change head on and would try his best to be a good dad to both his kids (all while freaking out on the inside.)
Gojo would be elated! Double the trouble. While you’re in pain, moaning and crying while pushing out the afterbirth, Gojo is already giggling over his new children, both annoyingly being the spitting images of their father. The nurse would probably yell at him to settle down because he’s being a nuisance and send him out for being annoying, not gonna lie. But who can blame him? He’s just so excited to take both his babies home and shower them with all the love and attention in the world. There’s no doubt that you’re nervous and scared after birthing twins, you aren’t even sure how you’ll nurse them or give them attention at the same time, and seeing this, Gojo vows to make your life easier with the babies. The nannies would often complain that Gojo leaves them no work because he’s always enthusiastic to look after his little ones.
Out of all the JJK men, I think Toji would have the worst reaction. He would be freaking the fuck out and would not be shy about it. He’d be clutching on to your hand to prevent himself from fainting after the midwife yells that there’s another one coming. It’s not that he exhibits weaponized incompetency, he’s just genuinely scared of messing up twice the amount now. He’d definitely be insecure throughout the first month though, wondering if he’s even blessed enough to deserve two little angels and a lovely wife. But that doesn’t stop him from trying his best. He makes a LOT of mistakes, but he’s always ready to learn, albeit, he’s a sloppy student, but he tries and that’s what matters. The kids also say dad first so he feels like he did something right after all.
Geto is a certified twin dad. It was on his resume when he started dating you. He is not scared, and is in dad mode the second you both find that you’re carrying. So imagine his delight when there’s two babies instead of one in the cradle, both looking like they’re the most precious things on Earth. Very overprotective, especially two times as much since his babies are so beautiful, he would not let anyone in a three feet radius of his children during the first month and it took a lot of convincing to let him loose and decrease the requirement to two feet. They’re the apples of his eye and so are you. He’s surprisingly good at dividing his attention well so nobody feels excluded. He made you feel safe and secure since the beginning, constantly reassuring you that raising twins is light work. You wouldn’t know if you’d still have your sanity if he was not the father of your children.
Sukuna makes you want to smack his face while giving birth. While you’re there, having the most uncomfortable and painful time, Sukuna is laughing to himself while holding both his babies to his chest, all four arms supporting them. He begins to yell about how he has two heirs now and the midwife smacks the back of his head so he’ll quiet down. Too bad he can’t kill her because she helped deliver his tiny demons. He had already started imagining what he’d teach the kid when he found out that you were pregnant, but now that there’s two kids there’s going to be twice the fun. He imagines teaching both his kiddos how to fight, maybe if they have too much energy and are annoying him then he’ll make them spar with each other. He laughs to himself menacingly and you try not to worry about what the man is planning. He also does not clean dirty diapers and does not make you do any of that either. Will probably force you away from the kids if he has to because the poor servants can handle it. He just wants to you to remember the fun parts of parenthood.
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fungateshortcakes · 2 days ago
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The Best There Is (according to Laura)
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I had two old man Logan x reader fics in my drafts but decided to connect them because it made more sense to me. This old man being domestic just does it for me Ughh
Pairing: oldman!Logan x fem!reader
Summary: Parenting comes with challenges Logan never thought he would have to face in his old age; like school drop offs, nosy teachers and career day disasters
Wordcount: 2.8k
Warnings/tags: english is not my first language, age-gap, established relationship, Logan 2017 ending never happened, domestic fluff, violence mentioned, Prisoners 2013 reference, it's just cute old man dad Logan please let me have this, !!!not proofread!!!
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Laura hated school. She had never gone to school before and she was fine, but after Logan and you had taken her under your wing, you put her in a school for her 'education'.
The only thing she needed to be educated in was survival. She hated sitting in a chair for hours, trying to keep still so she wouldn't get scolded. She hated the dumb questions teachers asked, their dumb faces while they got frustrated that the class didn't understand. And She hated math.
But most of all?
She hated that Logan had to pick her up every damn day. Not because of Logan himself or because she wanted to prove that she could walk home on her own, but because every time Logan stepped foot into the classroom to get her-
that one teacher wouldn’t leave him alone.
Her name was Miss Dover. She was pretty, blonde, and always smiling way too much when Logan arrived. She touched his arm, she laughed at things he didn’t mean to be funny.
And Laura?
Laura wanted to throw her backpack at her face. Or get her claws out, but Logan didn’t allow her
Logan already regretted agreeing to pick Laura up every day after the first time he had done so. Of course not because of Laura, but because of Miss Dover. Today was no different. The second he stepped onto the school grounds, surrounded by students who reminded him of the old times in the mansion, there she was.
“Mr. Howlett!” she called out to him in a too friendly manner, flipping her hair over her shoulder to show off. “Right on time, as always.” she smiled and to Logan, it looked like it hurt. He sighed. Here we go.
He only grunted in response, crossing his arms. Don’t engage. Keep it short. Get out.
Miss Dover, of course, ignored all of that. And she was in no way repelled because of Logans clear lack of interest in her. “You know” she started, biting her lip as she looked up at him, “I think it’s so sweet that you take the time to pick Laura up every day. A lot of dads just send a babysitter. I find that very admirable and...amazing”
Logan barely kept himself from rolling his eyes. “Well, she’s my kid.” he deadpanned. He was supposed to pick her up from school, so he did. It was the bare minimum, no need to make a fuss over something that was so self-evident.
Miss Dover beamed at him even after his discouraging answer. “That’s wonderful! A family man.” Logans eye twitched at that. He needed to get Laura and leave. Now.
Laura watched them from the steps of the school entrance, arms crossed over her chest, her pink glasses sitting on top of her head. She glanced at you, who stood beside her, smirking. Logan had begged you to come when he picked up Laura so he could prove to you how persistent and stubborn that one teacher was when it came to flirting with him.
“Should we save him?” you asked the girl beside you. For the record, you weren't jealous. Why would you be? You knew Logan loved you and didn't have eyes for anyone else, if anything, you were pretty amused by his misery. Laura shrugged at your question. “He deserves it.” you snorted a laugh, she had a point “Yeah, but we need him in one piece."
With a sigh, Laura slung her backpack over her shoulder, slipped down her sunglasses so they covered her eyes and marched towards Logan. Miss Dover was still going on about something, being awfully handsy while Logan was so obviously uncomfortable, when Laura reached them. She grabbed Logans sleeve, pulling at it. “Can we go now?” she asked Logan, paying no mind to her teacher. Miss Dovers eyes softened and she let out a coo “Aww. Looks like someone is eager to get home with Daddy” upon her words, Laura stared at her with an unreadable expression. Then, very clearly, very loudly, she said:
“He is married”
Miss Dover blinked. Logan groaned but was silently relieved. It wasn’t the way he thought Miss Dover would find out, but in the end he was glad. Laura pointed directly at you as you approached from the steps. “To her”
Miss Dovers smile dropped as she followed to where Laura pointed. You, meanwhile, finally stepped closer, grinning. “Hi” you greeted cheerfully with a wave, slipping your arm around Logans “I’m his wife” you confirmed with a nod. And judging by Miss Dovers expression, you knew she thought you didn't fit into the family, that you didn't even look like Lauras mom, that you looked way too young and you were overall not a good match in her opinion. You could tell she was about to gossip over this in the teachers lounge. But you couldn’t care less.
Logan exhaled in relief as he felt you settling beside him. Miss Dover turned red. Out of embarrassment or anger, you couldn't tell. Probably the latter. “Oh, I...I had no idea-" she stammered, averting eyecontact and taking a step back, her hand playing with the fabric of her skirt.
“Yeah” Laura said flatly. “Can we go now?”
Logan didn’t wait to answer her. He turned on his heel and walked away, practically dragging you and Laura with him. The three of you walked to his truck in silence. Logan ran a hand down his face as he threw Lauras backpack into the car. “Finally" he grunted as he sat down behind the steering wheel.
You laughed at him “She really doesn’t get the hint, huh?” you noted. Logan twisted the key, rubbing his temples while he drove out of the parking lot. “I swear, next time-”
“Next time” Laura interrupted from behind “you are sending her to pick me up”
Logan frowned, looking through the rear-view mirror at her “Why?”
Laura buckled her seatbelt “Because then she will know you are taken for real. She probably thinks this was a joke or something"
You laughed at that, leaning against Logan. “She’s right, you know. That woman looked like she wasn’t believing her ears when I said I was your wife. You said she was being persistent, I don’t think she will take this seriously” you chuckled, giving his rugged cheek a kiss. Logan sighed defeated "Yeah, yeah” he answered, putting a hand on your thigh while rounding a corner. “Maybe next time, you pick her up”
You grinned, laying your hand over his. He was a little tense. You knew why. He didn't know if you were jealous, maybe you were a little mad but didn't show it. "I'm not jealous, if you think that. Not at all"
Logan raised an eyebrow. Then he looked at you - really looked at you. At the way you fit so perfectly against him. At the way your eyes sparkled with mischief, teasing him. At the way your hand rested over his, like it belonged there. And when he turned his hand to grasp yours tightly, he was holding his heart in his palm. Yeah. You weren't jealous. Because he was yours. And you were his. And nothing was ever going to change that.
Not even when Laura stood in front of Logan a week later, her arms crossed, staring him down despite him clearly towering over her.
“You have to come”
“No, I don’t.”
“Yes, you do”
Logan sighed, rubbing his temples. They had been at this back and forth game for like 10 minutes now “Why?” he grumbled. “Because it’s career day” Laura answered flatly.
He gave her a look that said he cursed the way she was just as stubborn as him “Yeah? So?” he muttered lowly and shrugged. Laura huffed and rolled her eyes. “So” she said, already looking exhausted over the argument “everyone has to bring a parent to talk about their job”
Laura really wanted him to come. Mostly because she was always the black sheep in her class when it came to telling stories, showing emotions and just simply existing. She was different than the other kids, and after what happened to her, she had every right to be. The others picked on her more often than not and while she wanted to let her claws speak for her, Logan had strictly forbidden it. So all she could do was listen to them. It was draining. She just wanted to be normal for once.
Logan knew that, yet he scowled, picking up a can of beer from the fridge "Tell ‘em I’m dead.” he said between chugging down the bitter liquid.
You were sitting on the couch and as you heard their conversation, you couldn't help but snort.
Laura didn’t blink, unfazed “You have to come.”
Logan glared down at her, hating just how much she was like him. He was about to tell her to fuck off and go to her room, but he sighed “Kid, no one wants to hear me talk about drivin' a damn limo.”
Laura shrugged at that, turning on her heel. “Too bad.” she said. And just like that, Logan lost the argument.
And thats how Logan found himself sitting at the front of the classroom, arms crossed, scowl in full force. You stood at the back with a few other parents, your eyes fixated on him. It was fun, seeing him so annoyed. But it also warmed your heart- he sat next to Laura, sitting way taller than she was, his long legs barely fitting under the table. The two were bickering, poking each other back and forth before Laura leaned her head against his shoulder, his arm around her securely. He was it for you. Yes, you were married, but you'd marry him again in a heartbeat.
There were parents that had already gone before him. Firefighters, doctors, a lawyer. A police man sat down in his seat again after his presentation. And now it was Logans turn.
Great.
With a grunt, he stood up, slightly limping over to the blackboard. He could already feel the judgy stares of the other parents. Laura gave him a small thumbs up, and so did you.
Miss Dover, the teacher yes, that one, smiled at Logan “Alright, Mr. Howlett, why don’t you tell us what you do for a living?” she cheered.
Logan exhaled slowly.
"…I drive a limo.”
Silence.
Some of the kids blinked. A couple of parents exchanged unimpressed glances. Then one kid raised his hand. “Like… for famous people?” the young boy asked, looking a bit intimidated by Logans frown.
“Sometimes.” Logan grunted as an answer. Another kid raised her hand, bolder and more confident than her classmahe “What’s the coolest person you ever drove?”
Logan grimaced at her question, but what was he supposed to do? “A drunk guy who puked in my backseat” he replied, looking at his feet while silence spread through the room again. Miss Dover cleared her throat, the tension in the air was awkward “Oh! well, uhm..does your job have any…exciting parts?” she stuttered out, the eyes of the other parents resting on her as if to ask: why the hell did you allow him to come?
Logan stared at her, the question heavy in the room. Did she really want him to tell a bunch of ten year olds about the times he got into fistfights and gun battles with passengers?
“…Not really” he muttered.
From the back, you smiled. You knew exactly what was happening. Logan wasn’t embarrassed about his job, nor did he care about what these people thought. But he cared about Laura. And right now? He felt bad that her dad was a limo driver while other kids got to brag about firefighters and surgeons and stuff.
Your chest ached.
Because he didn’t get it. Laura didn’t care about any of that, she just wanted her dad.
Miss Dover clapped her hands, her cheeks red in slight embarrassement. “Well, let’s open the floor for more questions!” she welcomed the classroom.
Big mistake.
A mom from the third row, blonde, red lipstick, way too interested, raised her hand “So, Mr. Howlett” she started, smiling too much, “do you work long hours?” she nearly purred. Logan tensed a little, rubbing his beard “…I guess.”
Another mom, brunette, twirling her curls around her fingers in a flirty manner, leaned forward. “Must be tough coming home late all the time. Bet it gets lonely.”
You bit your lip, amused, but also a little sorry for the kids that had to witness their moms shamelessly thirst over another kids dad. Laura rolled her eyes and Logan scowled “I’m not lonely.”
The blonde mom giggled, biting her bottom lip “Yeah, I bet with me you wouldn't be” she purred. Jesus, what as up with these women??
Logans jaw clenched in annoyance. He didn't understand how these women could just full on flirt with him while their children were there. Besides that, he, Laura and you had arrived later than everyone else and he had kissed you before sitting down, surely they noticed that? Apparently not, not even the obvious ring on his finger seemed to catch their attention.
You, meanwhile, just waited. Because any second now-
“He’s married.” Laura deadpanned, her arms crossed, saving him yet again.
The brunette mom blinked “Oh” she mumbed, her face burning red. The blonde mom hesitated. "really..?”
Logan, already done with everything, just pointed at you in the back of the room. Every head turned and in any other situation, this would have you highly uncomfortable. But you just grinned. “Hi Ladies” you greeted them. You walked forward to the blackboard, smiling at the way their jealous stares bore into the back of your head. You could tell the women were fuming over the fact that you bagged such a handsome man, but Logan knew only you could truly appreciate him. "We should try and advertise our marriage" you giggled.
Logan grumbled, wrapping an arm around your waist protectively. You smirked up at him, fixing his loose tie “Maybe you should start to wear a sign.” you teased him even more. He rolled his eyes at you “Shut up" he mumbled, but his grip on you tightened. Because you were his. And he wanted to show that.
You didn't even wait for the other parents to have their turn at presenting their jobs. You just took Laura and went out of there, walking back to Logans truck. “That was hell.” he sighed, letting himself fall behind the wheel with a grunt.
You laughed as you closed your door from the passenger seat, slipping your hand into his “You survived"
“Barely.”
Laura climbed into the truck behind you two, buckling her seatbelt “Next time, I’m bringing her” she said, pointing at you. Logan frowned at that, the engine purring to life “What, so she can brag about…what? Painting? Making fun of me?” he grinned smugly, making you want to wipe that smirk off his face.
You returned the grin “I could have given them a whole presentation on how sexy my husband is.” you hummed, leaning in close to his face, your noses touching. Logan chuckled, the sound rich in his chest "Oh, yeah?” he muttered gravelly, leaning in to give you a deep, wet, noisy kiss.
Laura made a gagging noise.
You pulled back with a laugh and Logan turned towards the road as he started driving, a satisfied smile on his lips. You glanced at Laura in the backseat. “So?” you asked. “Were you embarrassed?
She blinked at your question, her brows furrowed, making her look so much like Logan “What?”
You gestured toward Logan next to you, then looked back at her “That your dad is a limo driver.” you stated simply, matter of factly. Lauras frown deepened, like the question itself was stupid. “No.” she said flatly.
Logan glanced at her through the rear view mirror, his brow cocked. "That right?” he asked her, feeling a soft smile creeping onto his lips. She shrugged, looking out the window. “You pick me up every day. You don’t talk too much. You don’t smell weird. You’re fine.”
Your heart swelled and you aww'ed at the two. "Great review, kid.” Logan huffed, but you knew he was feeling proud inside. Laura pulled a juice box from her bag and for a moment, the car was silent.
“Better than the other dads.”
Logan swore his heart just did a giddy flip “Yeah?” he asked, as if he had just heard her wrong. Your expression was soft as you looked at him, your hands curling around his.
Laura nodded wordlessly. And just like that, Logan realized it didn’t matter what he did for work, what he had done in the past. It didn’t define him entirely. Because Laura?
Laura was just happy he was her dad.
☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆
idk how these career days work, I am not american and never had one, I don’t even know if they are that popular im sorry😭
I still have a few unfinished requests in store, i am so sorry everything is taking so long. But, next post will be a very long smut, so be ready😌
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rosemariiaa · 2 days ago
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~Obsessed~
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𐙚— pairing: Paige x Azzi
𐙚— rosie’s note: hi hi there! this is one is a little short only because i was struggling with the other fic that was supposed to be posted tonight :( , so spare me i’ll work on that and drop it asap so no worries! but enjoy p being obsessed (per usual), happy reading lovelies 💌
𐙚—link: rosie’s bookshelf
𐙚— themes: fluff, obsession (kinda)
𐙚— taglist: @thaatdigitaldiary @sierrale8ne @imaginespazzi @pbaz7 @bueckersbitch @ldapper @makethemhoesmad
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Obsession gets a bad reputation.
People throw the word around like it’s some kind of sickness, like it’s something to be ashamed of. They make it sound desperate, unhealthy, like the person on the other end of it has no control over themselves. Like caring too much, or noticing too much, or wanting too much makes you weak.
People might see obsession as an expression of imbalance or weakness, as though the person experiencing it has lost their sense of self or become consumed in a way that’s unhealthy. It can be painted as a lack of boundaries, as if the person is so fixated that they can no longer think clearly or act rationally.
But I don’t see it that way.
Obsession doesn’t always have to be negative.
The truth is, the line between obsession and love or passion is often blurry. It’s about how you channel it, how you manage it. When you can let yourself feel deeply without losing yourself in it, obsession doesn’t need to be something to be ashamed of. Sometimes, it’s exactly that level of investment that makes things meaningful.
Being obsessed means you see the details—the things no one else notices. It means you care enough to memorize the way someone bites their lip when they’re thinking or the way their laugh changes depending on whether they actually find something funny or if they’re just being polite.
And when it comes to Azzi, yeah, maybe I’m obsessed.
Actually, not maybe. I am.
And I don’t care. I take pride in it.
I take pride in the fact that I can pick her voice out of a crowd before I even see her. That I know the difference between her real smile and the one she gives when she’s just trying to be nice. That I know she has a playlist for every mood, even though she always pretends she’s too busy to mess with that kind of stuff.
There’s something satisfying about knowing her like that—like I’m in on some big secret that no one else has figured out yet.
Take last week, for example. We were sitting on her couch after practice, both exhausted, the TV playing some rom com movie neither of us was paying attention to. Azzi was scrolling through her phone, her face soft in the glow of the screen. I wasn’t even watching the movie anymore. I was watching her. I always do.
The way her brow furrowed a little as she read something. The way she tucked her legs under herself like she was trying to make herself smaller, even though she already takes up so little space. The way she absentmindedly played with the drawstring of her hoodie, a tiny detail that no one else would’ve even noticed.
I couldn’t help it. I had to say something.
“What’re you thinking about?” I asked, my voice cutting through the quiet.
Azzi glanced up at me, her expression unreadable for a moment before she shrugged. “Nothing important.”
But I could tell by the way she said it that it was important—at least to her.
And that’s the thing. I don’t think anyone else would’ve caught that. No one else would’ve seen the way her lips twitched like she was holding back a smile or the way her eyes softened like she was glad someone had asked.
I don’t mind being obsessed with her because it means I get to see her like this. In moments when she’s not “Azzi the stud” or “Azzi the calm and collected one.” When she’s just… Azzi.
And yeah, I’ll admit it: I look at her like she’s the only person in the room. But can you blame me?
She has this way of pulling me in without even trying. Like everything else fades, and it’s just her—her laugh, her smile, the way her curls frame her face by themselves when she’s not paying attention.
If that makes me obsessed, then fine. I’ll own it.
Because I don’t think obsession is a bad thing. Not when it means loving someone like this. Not when it means knowing someone in a way that no one else does.
Not when it’s her.
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madamechrissy · 6 hours ago
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Baby You're No Good
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Pairings - Cult leader/clan Leader Geto x F! reader
Summary - You have been promised to marry the psychotic, human hating leader of the Geto Clan, Suguru. Your heart sinks at the wedding when you realize you're likely to be ended once you've fulfilled your duty, giving him an heir. He detests you on sight, as do you, but something happens the first time you lay together, Suguru swears you're some witch, because he can't get enough of you. He becomes consumed with fucking you, with the excuse of 'having an heir' but you begin to wonder just where the lines are blurring. Would you survive this- and will Suguru survive being with you?
CW- Arranged marriage trope, ENEMIES TO LOVERS, psychotic Geto lol- lots of hate sex, Suguru calling you a stupid monkey, angsty in places, FULL of smut. Reader is a virgin bc she's sheltered due to been promised to him. Reader is FEISTY asf and mean right back. Explicit sex and Geto being whipped/insane/obsessed and an ass. This part- fingering, fucking, loss of virginity, masturbation (suguru) finger sucking, hate sex, light angst. WC this part- 6.4k
Based on Clan Leader Geto- will be three parts <3 Plz share/comment/like if you enjoy!! Suguru is unappreciated I wanna give this psycho Princess a good fic!
Songs for this part-  Geto Suguru - Fill the Void - I hate everything about you
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Part One
You were to marry Suguru Geto, curse user, rumored cult leader, and clan leader to the major four clans there were. The Kamos, The Zenin, The Gojos and The Getos, the main four clans that you all know there are. As for Suguru’s family, it turns out he is now the clan leader for them, he is the one that they are now riding the whole line of the Geto Clan on.
Marrying you.
You stand there nervously, tummy feeling sick in your pretty white robes as you stare at this psychotic man, this man that thinks people without power are lesser, and perhaps worthless. Perhaps he wishes to eradicate you all, yet for his duty to the Geto clan, it leaves him to have to be with you, the chosen one from your family, for as long as you two were alive.
Maybe Suguru Geto back then was tolerable, back when he was just a clan leader and not all the rumors that are held, but now!? Being his bride was not just terrifying, it was a literal death sentence. After you’d given him heirs you were absolutely sure he’d eradicate you and perhaps anyone you’ve ever known and loved, including your family, who’d just given you the saddest of looks.
They weren’t here, you supposed even they couldn’t live with just handing their only daughter off to him, maybe before, you’d have been excited, remembering meeting him when you were just a teenager, he was a little older than you. Handsome and sweet with this smile that made you want to pinch his cheeks, he was so courteous and sweet, but that was a different man.
You look now, as you nervously step down the aisle, eyes of everyone on you aside from him, Suguru Geto. He’s decked out in brilliant emerald robes, laughing and murmuring to several girls near him. His long black hair is half up, showcasing his handsome features, yes if perhaps he wasn’t a psycho killer, you could find him attractive, not be sick to your stomach.
As some long red headed lady taps his shoulder, her long nails against him, he finally sees you then, and his jaw locks, you feel those violet eyes on you like a physical touch. You doubt he remembers your one meeting years ago, you doubt he recognizes you or cares, or sees you as anything but a nuisance, a duty. But you see his narrowed eyes dip down your body, taking you in.
Your heart hammers as you get closer, a mix of sorcerers scowling or smirking at you, along with the Geto clan looking curiously, murmuring here and there. Everyone hoped to stay on Suguru Geto’s good side, if he had one, you weren’t quite sure, feeling the insane energy emanating from him as he studies you. Another step, another click of your heel echoing in the immaculate hall.
It’s hard to be impressed with the beauty of it, of the Geto estate, surely it’s one of the nicest there are, there are four major families, and the Geto family is one. You don’t know how you ended up being selected, your family is certainly wealthy, but you wonder at your horrific luck now as you stand before him.
You have to lean your head back just to look at the tall man, towering over everyone in the room, he makes you feel so small, even smaller with his quiet assessment, as the room is full of hushed whispers. Half of them surely want you to just die, half of them want an heir from you, you imagine this man in front of you leaning down wants both.
Suguru eyes you carefully, yes you’re beautiful, but you clearly have not an ounce of power, not an ounce of any useful energy. You’re clearly just some pathetic little mortal, which disgusts him, you’re tiny and pathetic, useless. He’s so annoyed this is what he has to do, but he certainly can’t just not fulfill these obligations, as Suguru needs the backing of his family to gain more power.
Already so powerful, and with an enormous, loyal following, he detests that he has to in any way deal with his parents still, but he supposes he will handle it for now. Surely soon he’d have the precious few mortals he allows to live, to be loyal servants at his beck and call, pathetic ants that work for their lives he allows them.
Your eyes lower nervously, lashes casting shadows on your cheeks, lights of the soft chandelier hanging above you glittering on your smooth skin. He feels it, you’re terrified, which makes him smirk just a bit, as you should know your place, under him, beneath him, perhaps he can handle you if you’ll be just a little docile. You are pleasing enough to look at.
Something familiar stirs when you look back at him, with eyes glimmering with unshed tears, your lower lip caught in your row of upper teeth. He remembers it like a fog, being at Jujutsu high with his best friends, right before he started to realize how horrible humans were, God he’d been so naive then. Your families introduced you two, but you were young.
He remembers thinking you were pretty, being just a little shy actually, which is so laughable now. You’d met Satoru then too, and he could swear you’d made eyes on him, on his old best friend who now is his enemy, which hurts Suguru in many, many ways, as having Satoru back on the right side, his side. There was no denying Satoru was the strongest, but Suguru was coming for him.
He smiles a bit as he thinks of it, and his pretty face looks terrifying for a moment, making your breath catch, as the priest begins the ceremony, and Suguru rips his eyes from you. You eye black gauged earrings, alone with some little barbell in his eyebrow, details that almost make him seem like a human, but you suppose those are just from long ago.
Suguru feels Manami’s long nails against his back, he turns and smirks at her, ignoring the pretty, but pathetic human in front of him. Manami and him have long hooked up together, though Suguru partakes in many women, she seems to be the main one by his side. Just this morning she’d sucked him off, he had not been in any sort of mood however to do more.
Knowing he’d have to fulfill his stupid duties were irritating him to know end, and no amount of sucking was fixing his shitty mood. He also sees the girls he truly sees as his real daughters, Mimiko and Nanako whispering about the bride just a bit. He errantly thinks he hears ‘pretty’ but he remembers how young they are, and what he keeps them a bit sheltered from still.
They didn’t know all of his plans yet, they were just girls still.
“You may kiss the bride.” Suguru hears errantly, he sighs, leaning down and pressing his lips against yours, hopefully the only time he’ll have to, but something literally jolts through his body as he does. He pulls back, glaring down at you, gripping your wrist, tiny in his massive grip, making you wince a bit, looking up at him with frightened eyes.
“Do you have any cursed energy!?” He demands, narrowing those intense eyes of his, you step back, shaking your head quickly.
“You know I do not. Why ask?” You whisper, he grabs your wrist even tighter, sensing every bit of your body, finding nothing. Why then, had he felt that!? Some odd shock through his system!?
He’d never kiss you again, it is quite annoying.
As the ceremony goes, and Suguru has many people around him, including some redhead you notice is all over him, you come across two little girls, who you’ve been informed are like daughters to Suguru. They both study you curiously, the little blond with pigtails smiling at you.
“You’re just a human, right?” She says, and you nod, shyly.
“Does it… suck to have no powers?” The little brunette says, and you sigh.
“Honestly, no. I don’t want all of that responsibility I guess? Do you all…” They both hold balls of energy, and you step back, heart racing as they giggle.
“Girls, not at the ceremony.” You’re almost shocked to hear him sound- kind, affectionate?- from across the room, chuckling a bit.
“Fine, dad.” They speak at the same time you notice, then they bombard you with more and more questions, while Suguru watches curiously, Manami murmuring things she’d do to him in his ear, as the other members start to dance. Someone dances with you, then, and Suguru…
Well he doesn’t fucking like it.
Why!? You’re nothing really.
When you’re finally done in the ceremony, and you’ve been dressed in some dainty little see through slip, you feel your cheeks burn with embarrassment, as they finally leave after slathering you in fragrant oil, brushing your hair till it gleamed. You eye yourself in the mirror nervously, seeing the color on your cheeks, the way your eyes look so… frightened really.
Being promised to Suguru meant being sheltered, and aside from making out and some touching when you could sneak out, you were indeed a virgin, and having your first time with a dude who wants to kill you just doesn’t sound fun. You sure wouldn’t let him see how afraid you were, not when he walks into the room, a goblet of wine in his hand, sighing and shutting the door.
You’re tense as he eyes your, thin transparent material showcasing your curves, the nip of your waist, the just of your hips, and most tantalizingly the swell of your breasts. His breath catches at just how good you do look, his cock twitching in response, irritating him to no end.
Perhaps this is just his stupid body’s response, but he does not get attracted to humans, they disgust him, even the pretty ones. But you are… exceptionally sexy right now, could it be all the wine, could it be that he saw you before he changed? Suguru shoves all those thoughts back, gulping down the rest of the red wine now, a drip falling from the corner, and you’re just standing there.
“Let’s get this over with.” He mumbles, and you glare then, making him smirk but also making his cock even more full of blood.
“Let’s, I don’t want this any more than you.” You mumble, unlacing the ribbons over your gown then, and he’s irritated at how bad his hands itch to take it off you, instead raising a brow.
“Oh I doubt that, at least you get to fuck me, someone with power. I am the one that has to fuck a pathetic monkey.” Your scowl deepens, as he unlaces his belt, letting his robes fall, and you see his perfect body, well formed pecs and cut abdomen, lines and swirls of tattoos all over his body, even on his corded arms.
You falter for only a moment, because his body is literally perfect, down to the trail of dark hair below his flat belly button, but you quickly shove all that out, ignoring the way your body is reacting to just seeing him. “Monkey, huh, is that what you call humans?”
“Sure is, pathetic monkeys, lesser developed and-” He pauses when your dress falls in a silky pool to your ankles, and you stand there naked fully, his heart dropping into his damn stomach.
His cock is leaking precum just staring at you, god you’re fucking beautiful, so beautiful he doesn’t think he can put a word to it. It’s as if his cock doesn’t recognize you’re some pathetic human, neither do hands that itch to touch, and his tongue that wants to just lick you.
Fuck you’re annoying.
Why are you built like this!? Your perfect tits alone are making him ache for you so badly he can hardly breathe, as they rise and fall with your own nervous breaths, and you look right at him, boldly. Suguru tries to avert his eyes, to play it off in any way, but he’s awestruck, lips parted, as he watches you cross your arms under those breasts, sees a hint of a pussy he wants to bury himself inside.
Fuck if you were just… if you just had some powers, he’d have so much fun with you, god he’d tell you how pretty you were. He’d make you cum on his mouth over and over, feel you gripping his long locks, but he can’t because you’re… you’re nothing, really, just a monkey… he has to remember.
You see red lining his perfect cheekbones, making you curious at him until he clears his throat, averting his eyes and releasing his hair, letting it cascade over broad shoulders. “Let’s just… get it done.” You murmur then, sitting on the futon now, decked with reds and golds in the luxurious room they had made for the two of you.
That’s when Suguru sees your perfect little pussy, making him bump into the side table, you blink a bit, curiously at him, thighs spread as you rest on your elbows. He cannot even function, you are so perfect he hates it, surely there is something about you, some energy they’re missing, there is no way that you’re a human, with such effects on him!?
He lets his pants fall as he tries to pull himself together, and that’s when you see him, rock hard and thick, far, far too many inches. You panic, wondering just how the fuck that’s gonna fit, you’d had fingers inside you that hurt a bit before, this was probably gonna wreck you. You almost shut your thighs, watching his reddened tip drool pearly drops of precum.
Sheltered but not stupid, he was clearly ready. You raise a brow. “You seem pretty… ready for such a monkey in front of you, hmm?”
Suguru glares now, grabbing you by the hair, cock near your face, you wonder if he’ll shove it in your mouth wildly, but he’s just pulling at your hair, making you gasp out in pain, as he tilts your head back. “Do you even know what to do, pathetic little fucking monkey!?”
“I haven’t before, no.” You whisper then, and he pauses, gulping down some horrible sense of guilt. Not only has he not been with a virgin, he knows he’s clearly not your choice for this.
What is it that's making him feel so much?
He hates it. He hates you.
Is it the fact that he can see you’re afraid, he lays with women who coo over him, who are soaking wet as he just smiles at them, women who drop to their knees if he snaps his fingers. He doesn’t want to hurt you, but he shouldn’t care, right? What are humans to a sorcerer?
“I know you need an heir, so just… put it in me.” You say, he chuckles then, shaking his head as he shoves you back on the bed, bouncing just slightly when he rests over you on an elbow, sucking on two fingers then.
It’s so lewd, how his mouth wraps the thick digits, his cheeks hollowing as he sucks on them, before he sinks two right in your tight little cunt, making you gasp at the stretch, and making him exhale, holding back a moan. You’re so tight, clenching him, your gummy little walls convulsing, making him picture just how good you’ll feel around his cock.
“Do you have to!? Just get it in.” You whisper, and he glares down at you, lips parted at your utter lack of knowledge and insolent mouth.
“I can’t, you’re too tight, stupid monkey.” You glare and shove at his chest, only making him chuckle more. “You think I wanna prep or even touch you?”
“You think I w-want those or that in me!? No, just do it. Stop that… touching me inside… mnh!” At the sound of your own moan you cover your mouth, gasping as your eyes shoot up to his, he tilts his head, long silky hair falling like a curtain to the side of you both, as he presses on that spot again.
This time your eyes roll back, and he knows he’s found it, that spot in your pretty pussy that is just a little spongier, as your cunt starts drooling, and his cock has to press against the bed, for any pressure. Not only do you feel so good, so wet, you’re also fucking gorgeous as your head falls back, eyes fluttering shut, and he looks down at the mess you’re making.
“Messy little thing, tsk.” He says then, and you’re struggling to form a word when he puts his fingers back in, building pressure in your tummy that feels far too good, making you hate him more. “Hear her, huh? Monkey that excited?”
“D-don’t hear shit, don’t even l-like it.” You manage to utter out, and he’s smirking down at you, kissing down your breasts far too fondly, moaning as your walls are fluttering around his fingers, sucking a pretty, puffy nipple in his mouth. “Just fuck me, would you?”
“It will hurt you… I-” You pause, blinking as he leans up from licking and biting your breasts, little trails of saliva, as you look at him with wide eyes.
“What do you care, you don’t need me to like it to give me an heir. Just get it done so I can go to sleep.”
Your words hit him then, why does he care? Suguru could slaughter a village but can’t imagine fucking you without preparing you properly, fuck he wanted you to like it, to want him. And why!?
“You won’t be able to take me, tiny pathetic little cunt can’t.” You scowl as he sucks on a nipple again, scissoring his fingers in your cunt now, making lewd squishing sounds as you feel you’re soaked, mortifying you.
“Stop sucking on them, you don’t need to.” You shove him again, and he glares, leaning over you now, intimidating as he curls slick fingers, making you gasp in pleasure, biting your lower lip hard so you don’t scream out how good it is.
“If I must breed you, I’ll do it how I wish to. Stop acting as if you can tell me what to do.”
“I hate you.” You smack him then, earning a psychotic glare, and you realize fuck you’ve messed up, as he takes his fingers out of your pussy and shoves them right in your mouth, making you choke on them.
“Will you shut up, stupid monkey, fuck.” He’s then lining up his cock with your entrance, shoving your thighs up high. “Fine then, wanna get it over with, huh?”
You nod eagerly, hating every second under him, even if your body betrayed you. “Sure do, fucking psycho.”
“Psycho, huh?” You nod again, then gasp in pain as he fills you, stuffing your cunt full in one stroke, making it burn even though you are soaked and prepared somewhat, nothing could really prepare for his huge cock inside you.
“Ah!” You blink back tears, tears that bother him, and they shouldn’t, but now he wants to tenderly brush back your hair, that’s fallen on your brow. He wants to pull back out and prep you more, but you’re an insolent brat who won’t even let him, and he shouldn’t want to.
But your pussy gripping him drives him insane, to the point he could cum in a stroke or two, it’s gripping that fucking good. He can’t take it, he rests his head in the crook of your neck, so you don’t see an already pussy drunk face when he pulls back, shoving his cock even deeper, and feels your nails in his back, digging, hears your little cries of pain.
He wants cries of pleasure.
What the fuck are you doing to him!?
Is it human to have a pussy like this, he wonders, biting back a moan and leaning up, grabbing at one of your thighs to sink deeper, and you hate that it starts to feel good, when he starts fucking into you. Thick cock stretching, as your cunt gushes around him, his tip dragging on some spot that makes your eyes roll back again in pleasure, and this fucker notices.
“She’s fuckin’ soaking my cock, huh? Like it, pathetic little monkey, a sorcerer over you?” You manage to glare, shaking your head, his attractive smirk widening, as he fucks you deeper and harder, and you’re a tremblind mess under him. “Oh no, you don’t hmm?”
“N-no, hate it. Hate you.” He scowls now, as you gulp down moans and cries he’s dying to hear, so he pays attention, to when you’re gasping, clamping down, realizing the spot and angle you’re dying over, so Suguru grins down at you, lifting your thighs up so high he slams your cervix. “Ah!”
“There it is.” He whispers to himself, pressing on the backs of your thighs and slamming your cervix, over and over, as you’re moaning so sexy, your back arching, while he’s folding you damn near in half now. “F-fuck… you feel so…” He stops himself, he can’t say that.
It feels so perfect.
Feels like you’re made to take his cock.
You’re so pretty under him, perspiration on your forehead, eyebrows scrunched, lips red from you biting them, your eyes glazed over. God you’re gorgeous, as his cock is throbbing inside your tight walls, and you’re struggling so hard to act like you hate it, when he’s hitting that spot over and over, his tip dragging on it again and again. You moan out loud, whining when he rolls his hips bottoming out.
“J-just cum, finish it. W-wanna be d-done.” You whisper, he glares now at you.
“Not enjoying it at all?”
“Hate it. B-boring.” Suguru laughs now, shaking his head, slamming into you, and you’re screaming out, convulsing, feeling pressure build and build, realizing with a panic then.
You’re gonna cum.
Not for him, dammit!
You struggle to hold back, shaking your head and covering your face, when he lets your thighs fall to the side, yanking your hands off your face, pinning your wrists above your head with a strong hand, long fingers wrapping your delicate wrists like they’re nothing. You gasp at it, as his other hand yanks you by your hip, slamming you down his length.
“I’ll look upon your face.” He says through his teeth, dying to watch it when you cum, and fuck he feels it, you’re so close. He wants it then, he needs it, you to cum all over him, milking him so good, and your eyes go wide in shock, but they’re already so fucked out. He’s leaking precum inside you, dragging on that spot and watching you unravel for him.
“Why do y-you wanna- mnh, f-fuck!” You’re clinging to the sheets, when Suguru would like you to cling to him, as he sends you over the fucking edge, and he watches your gorgeous face screw up in pleasure, making his cock pulse.
Fuck you’re pretty.
Fuck he hates you for doing this.
He’s never even felt anything better than this.
“Can’t help yourself, huh monkey? Gonna cum all over my cock, aren’t you?” He whispers, you shake your head, still pinned under him, and he lays over you, grinding his cock inside you, dark hair on his pelvis just pressing on your neglected clitoris, then you feel it, and he moans. “There it is.”
“No, no, no… f-fuck you… hate… ah!” You’re shattering, cumming so hard you can’t even see, all while this psycho watches avidly, and you hate him more for it, for giving you this orgasm that almost makes you faint. “Sh-shit… mnh…”
Your cunt soaks his cock as the orgasm wrecks your brain, as you’re convulsing around his thick veiny cock, with its tip pressing into your cervix, and you’re twitching under him, pathetic. You gasp as he fucks you through it, disoriented and blinking rapidly at how euphoric you feel, listening to the grunts and groans of his and the squelching of your cunt.
“Oh my… f-fuck…” Suguru groans now, unable to hold back any longer, violet eyes so dilated they look black as they drink in your face, lips hovering over yours, cock fucking harder and harder.
You almost cum again, clenching around him, as he moves over you, stuttering in his rhythm finally, faltering just a bit, gripping you tightly as he moans out, his breath hot against your lips, lips he wants to kiss, a mouth he wants to spit inside, tongue he wants to feel on his skin. You’re maddening, he realizes then, as he gets closer to his release, his cock throbbing at your pussy milking him so good.
“Mnh… shit I hate… you…” You whisper, as you’re cumming again, and he grips your wrists so hard they’ve gone numb, starting to pump hot loads of cum inside, you, groaning out loud at how good it feels.
“Milking me, shit… f-feels so fucking perf-” Suguru holds it back, luckily you’re too fucked out to care, as his cum fills you, so hot and gooey, and you’re both gasping for breaths, the room quiet save front he sounds of his cock slipping inside you, and your hearts pounding. “Filled you so fucking good, monkey, hmm?”
“G-good, it’s over…” You whisper, damn near delirious as your aftershocks make your sticky walls grip him, he gasps at it, pumping even more, as he looks into your eyes, feeling too much.
“Y-yes. Over.” He manages to spill out, and you whimper when he kisses your neck, something he shouldn’t indulge in, easing off your wrists and looking at them, his hand left prints clearly.
You ease them down, fingers wresting on his shoulders for a moment, a moment that feels too good, too natural, before you press on him. “Can you go, then?”
“What?” He blinks in confusion, cock still inside of you, fuck he never even wants to leave, so hot and wet and-
“Your seed is inside me, we should be good for now. I’m… sore. Please get off of me.” You look away now, and Suguru’s pulse races, as you refuse to look at him whatsoever when he gets off, easing his cock out of you with a messy pop sound, tensing as he sees the evidence of your innocence between your thighs.
“Let me clean you up.” He murmurs, and you glare, shaking your head and closing your legs then. “Would you just-”
“Fuck you, get out. I don’t need you cleaning me up, we’re good until… I guess whenever we have to do this again.” You stand on wobbly legs, as Suguru stands, looming over you as you head to the shower adjoining the room, grabbing you by the top of your arm. “What!?”
“So eager to run off, monkey? You should thank me.”
You laugh then, ignoring the throb of your pussy and the pounding in your head, fuck him he felt so good in you, you’ve never even felt that good before, not from little orgasms you gave yourself. You hate him more for it, not only did your first time have to be with this ass of a man, a psycho killer, you also came when you didn’t even want to, making it all worse/
“Thank you!? For what!”
“For cumming inside you.” He presses you against the wall then, looming over you so tall, his sweet breath like the grapes of the wine as he grabs your chin, forcing your eyes on his. “For making a monkey like you cum.”
“You didn’t make me cum, stupid psycho.” You glare right at him, chest heaving as you speak the lies, but he laughs right down at you, thumb brushing over a lip with teeth indentations from how hard you bit it.
“Didn’t cum? You’re a fucking liar, on top of being pathetic. Useless.”
“Useless, yes except to have your stupid heir. I can’t wait to get pregnant, actually, so I’ll never have to get touched again.”
“Oh yeah, so fucking horrible?”
“Terrible.”
“And you’re disgusting to me.”
“Good!” You shove at his strong chest, slick with sweat, and pause there then, as does he, a hand now entwined at the nape of your neck, as he dies to kiss you, brutally, over and over, but he just holds you there. “Am I done for the night Lord Geto, or whatever the fuck you like to be called?”
He’d like you to scream Suguru.
Fuck.
“Will you just let me clean you up, it was your first time and-”
“Oh no, you’re not gonna play like you care at all. We did what we had to do, what we both had to do, neither of us wanted it, or enjoyed it. Right?” You demand then, raising a brow, and he scowls.
“Not right, and I’m just-”
“I remember it, meeting you, you were… sweet.”
He laughs then. “What?”
“You were, and him? I’d have been happy to do this, but you? I don’t wanna look at you and think of it. Let me go.” He scowls as he goes to grab his clothes now, and you lean against the wall, covering your face, not wanting him to see just how you are affected by him.
“I’ll be putting a curse at your door, to make sure you don’t run.” He says then, making you blink in shock, seeing he’s dressed finally, putting his hair back up.
“I have nowhere to run to.” He pauses at that, jaw locked. “But go ahead, maybe it’ll be better company than you.”
Suguru scoffs. “Clean up.”
“Get out.” You order, finally he turns, walking out, leaving you to step into the shower, letting the hot spray hit you, sore in places you’ve never imagined, thinking just how much you hate him.
You’re sobbing then, under the coverage of the shower, where no one would see you, see what he’s done to you, your mental state in ruins. You scrub everywhere his elegant fingers touched, everywhere his lush lips kissed, hissing when you wash your sore pussy, looking down at your fingers, finding his cum pouring out of you. Hot, sticky white cum washed by the shower.
Steam fills as you slide down to sit in the shower, resting your head on your knees, hating him so much you can barely breathe. Bad enough he fucked you, why did he have to make you enjoy it, why did he act like he cared for your pleasure, cared for you after even? A lie, all a lie, and it’s the last thing you need. 
You will hate him.
Outside your room, Suguru leans his back against your door, trying to catch his breath, head swirling with you, hands shaking as they brush back his hair. You have him shaking, you annoying, stupid brat of a girl, who wouldn’t even let him try to care for you, at all.
Why’d he want to though? You were right, your duty was fulfilled for the night, he should stop thinking of how he’d love to be in that shower with you, how he’s dying to be back inside you, imagining making you admit how good it felt. He could feel your slick on his cock still, wondering if you feel him pouring out of you, dying to breed you again, again, again.
He detests you.
Summoning a curse, a rather derpy looking one shaped like a bull with several eyes, he plops him next to your door now, this is a docile curse he’s had since his youth, bringing back too many memories. Of being happy, of laughing, of a girl named Riko, right before he’d snapped, her riding this curse on its back as they tried their best to save her.
It proved how disgusting humans were that day, lest he ever forget, his fist clenched as he struggles to gain his resolve, looking down at the creature now. “Guard this door.” It nods, tongue lolling out, Suguru sighs then. “Also make sure you… care for the girl in this room. Yes?”
It nods again, as Suguru does not know if you are safe really, surely no one would go against him, but there is much hatred already for humans, and many, many people hate you. But he wants you to be safe, otherwise he’ll just get another bride thrown on him, and who knows if he’d hate her more.
Suguru ends up in his room now, sighing as he sees Manami there with another woman from his cult, he shakes his head as they try to disrobe him. “No, I am not in any sort of mood for it.”
“But Suguru, it must've been awful.” Manami cooes, and the other girl nods, as they rub up and down his arms, making him feel disgusted.
How?
How do they, powerful women, make him disgusted now? He owes you no loyalty, he did not plan to only be with you, but the thought of anyone but you actually makes him sick. What sort of witchcraft do you possess, some new undetectable kind that he hasn’t figured out, to make him feel like this? Are you some weapon to destroy his fucking plans?
“Go. Now.” Suguru orders then, and they pout as they leave, but Suguru can’t get his mind off you, not when he’s washing you off in the shower, every vivid thought of making you enjoy it fills his mind.
Suguru hates you more when he’s stroking his cock to the thought of you whimpering, begging for him, on your knees with your tongue out. He’s moaning as he pinches his tip, he already came so much but he can’t stop how hard he is, thinking of how your eyes would cross as he fucked your throat, as he came so deep and you swallowed him greedy.
Thinking of you riding him, your tits bouncing right in his face, your thighs squeezing his face as he lapped his cup out of your pussy after. ‘F-fuck, you like it, don’t you’ he’s muttering, wet hair sticking to his back as water pounds down, and he’s stroking his cock faster and faster, eyes shutting, vivid pictures of you everywhere.
‘That’s it, good girl, cumming just for me, mine, aren’t you’ he’s stuttering, saying stupid insane shit, so high off your pussy he can’t even talk himself out of it, not when his big hand strokes his thick shaft over and over.
When Suguru cums again he moans out loud, hunching over and gasping for a breath, hating you more for what you’ve done when his sticky cum pours all out of his hand now. He rinses himself off, shaking his head and covering it with his other hand, realizing jerking off was nothing like cumming inside you, like fucking your perfect little pussy.
Just who the fuck are you?
******
The next day of being Suguru’s wife, you open the door and gasp, seeing some bull shaped creature who’s grinning at you, several eyes wide open as it licks your leg, making you squeak. “What!?”
“He likes you.” Comes Mimiko’s voice, she’s poking around on her phone, and you take a breath, smiling a bit.
Just because Suguru is a psychotic dick, it doesn’t mean you’d take it out on little girls, or oddly cute curses. “Can I pet it?” You ask, and Nanako giggles next to her sister, stepping closer.
“He’s docile.” She pets him then, and the thing damn near purrs, you bend down on your knees now, petting him yourself, sighing.
“He’s kinda cute?” They burst out in laughter, leaving the hall then, as you find the first bit of comfort in one of stupid, psycho Suguru’s curses. “You like me?”
He nods, licking on your cheek, you swipe at it, wincing as it runs off, and suddenly Suguru Geto is standing right in front of you, as you’re just on your knees still, looking up at him. Vivid insane thoughts fill you, as you feel your tummy clench, pussy so sore from him still, thinking of the dreams you’d had of this ass of a man, and now you’re just… there.
He freezes when he sees your hair fall back, loose and flowing, shimmering likely from your shower, and you’re right where he pictured you, what he jerked himself to over and over. The urge to pull out his cock and fuck your pretty face was overwhelming, driving him so insane his cock responds violently, already leaking precum, annoying him to no end.
He’d turned down more women this morning, because now he’s coming to a really annoying realization- he wants you. Only you. He’s blaming his stupid body, for wanting a petty human, but it’s undeniable, while you just blink and look up for a moment, before you clear your throat, standing and grabbing the door way, looking away now.
“Where’d the curse go? I like him.”
“You like him!?”
“Better than you, I was right. He’s cuter.” You smile then, and he glares, grabbing you right by your throat, only making you laugh.
“Who’s the psycho here, me or you?” He whispers, and you grip his wrist now, as he looks how pretty your neck is with his hand around it, as he looks at glossy lips he wants to kiss.
“Gonna kill me before the heir?” You whisper, when he squeezes just so.
“Tempting to do so.” He whispers against your lips, and you come to a very annoying realization of your own, when your nipples tighten, when your pussy drips from him choking you.
You want this psycho.
Just your body, you’ll just blame that, but it’s undeniable, and it makes you despise him more. “Go for it, put me outta my misery. Won’t have to look at you.” You say, he squeezes harder, stepping a little further in the room, as you feel lightheaded, and fucking horny.
What’s wrong with you!?
“Why don’t we work harder on making it happen then?”
“Now!?” You demand, and he shuts the door, smirking, undoing his black robes as you rub your sore neck.
“Now.”
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Taglist open for parts two and three if you're not on it already <3 Hope you enjoyed this, I know Geto doesn't hit like my Gojo or Sukuna posts, but I rly tried lol. Can't wait to see what ya'll think!
Taglist #1- @ur-1fav-girl @gradmacoco @arabellasolstice @saitamaswifey @rjreins @uarmyhopeworldwide @makkiihehe @dabisdolly @angelzrulez21-blog @espresso1patronum @juicu @meme848 @arcanedx @satxoru @jeon-blue @longlivegojo @silvarys @enhasrii @inthedarkshadows000 @shokosmokes @schlokki @ashdiamashi @socutesotall @staarflowerr @you-need-namjesus @tojicvmslut @pkcoleight @tasteofapplecider @erenspersonalwh0re @soyokosuguru @boobsbeesbongos @sjstg3 @msniks @hhhhhhhikariiiiiiii @l1v1ngzomb1e @lilbxtchsyndrome @voideddd @maddyhehehehhe @norikuna @yenayaps @alygator77 perm tags (rest in rbs) @honeybunnnnie @alt--er--love @indiewritesxoxo @nanasukii28 @makingtimemine @cuntphoric @loafteaw
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mononijikayu · 2 days ago
Text
paninindigan kita — ryomen sukuna.
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“You know what, I changed my mind. You can go ahead if you want.” he’d said, looking anywhere but at you. “I’m not really the best company.” You looked at him with a raised brow. “You just told me that you wanna get home together.” “Yeah, but I—” “You think I care?” you shot back, smiling and pulled at his arm. “Come on, let’s go.” “Hey, aren’t I gonna have a choice here?” You giggled. “When someone makes a promise, he gives up his right to rescind the offer!”
Genre: Alternate Universe — College! AU;
Warning/s: General Rating, AFAB! Reader, Use of She/Her, Use of Female Centered Identification, Pet Names (Babe, My Love, Hotshot, Etc), Romance, Fluff, Humour, Love, Comfort/ Hurt, Friends to Lovers, Established Relationship, Lovers, Dating, Delinquent Trope, Feeling, Light-Hearted, Slice of Life, Idiots In Love, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Healthy Relationship, Friendships, Profanity, Swearing, Teasing, Injury, Mention of Violence, Mention of Delinquency, Mention of Injury, Mention of Physical Fighting, Volleyball, Volleyball Captain! Sukuna, Boyfriend! Sukuna, Girlfriend! Reader;
Words: 7k words.
Note: i know im in the middle of the valentines special, but i just can't help myself. i reread lovesick and it just slaps you know??? i ended up thinking about what could be a sequel to it. i ended up thinking about opm songs as title, since opm songs just hit different when it comes to love.
paninindigan kita is soooo perfect for this. oh and this is another multiverse of concubine reader and sukuna, where they are ACTUALLY in love. so i hope you enjoy this little gift. i think this is,,,,the care before next week. nanami's fic is NOT for the faint hearted. it requires tissues. anyway, i love you all!!! see you on the 10th <3
masterlist
if you want to, tip! <3
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IF ONE WAS BEING HONEST, NOT MANY CHILDHOOD SWEETHEARTS MAKE IT THE WAY YOU AND VARSITY CAPTAIN RYOMEN SUKUNA DO. That is the unadulterated truth, tried and tested through the ages and has stayed true to itself.
You and Sukuna had started dating in a very discreet manner in junior high. It was a very well kept secret for a time. And that was to be expected. The Sukuna people knew today was not the Sukuna he used to be. 
That’s why you supposed everything about it was new and uncharted, something even both of you could not expect. Everything about it was a wild, unexpected match that neither of you saw coming but somehow made perfect sense.
Ryomen Sukuna was already by this time an infamous troublemaker, a magnetic force of nature for danger and trouble. He was someone  with a reputation as the school’s untouchable menace and he proved that almost every day. 
Teachers sighed when they saw his name on the attendance list. The school staff could only release a curse and a groan with the realization that they would have to clean up after him and many students from the whole of the junior high and high school whispered about the many fights he always got into but somehow never lost. 
He was that young boy with the proud bruised knuckles and a defiant smirk, walking through the halls like he owned the place even though authority figures would have loved to see him expelled.
His uniform was perpetually rumpled, his tie loose like he couldn’t be bothered to fit into anyone’s mold. Even all the parents warned their kids to steer clear of him, to avoid trouble.
But you? You saw something else.
It wasn’t just the raw confidence or the magnetic way he carried himself, though that certainly didn’t hurt. No, it was the glimpses of a quieter Ryomen Sukuna. You knew the boy who lingered behind the gym after school, looking out at the sky as if he was waiting for something bigger than this tiny town. 
Often he would drink a strawberry milk carton and eat anpan and somehow sleep as peacefully as a kitten. You knew the boy who would shove his hands in his pockets shrewdly and softly mutter a word of thanks when he woke up, realizing that you were also sharing his space and quietly brought him bandages when he rested there after a particularly bad fight.
That continued on for a while. And somehow it became a routine. Though, it changed from time to time. At times you found yourselves eating lunch together and talking to each other in between the bites. At times you both ended up playing card games, after he brought some with him — since he pocketed it off some poor first year junior he defeated. 
(Though he brought it back when you scolded him about it.
He groaned on and on about it, telling you he’s not going to do it.
But before you went home from cleaning duty, you saw him place it on that first year’s table.)
Sometimes, you get into the habit of listening to music. Which made you realize that you both liked classical music. Though his favorite is Tchaikovsky and yours is Mozart. At one point, the two of you were bringing out books. 
At first you were surprised that he was someone that seemed to read for fun at all. Yet he did. If anything, he read books you didn’t even know about yet. And he would lend you his copies so you both can talk about it (and occasionally debate and argue.)
You were perplexed by the person he was. Everything about him was a contradiction. And almost certainly, it was the thing that pulled you close to him, almost like you could be the moon to his Earth. But you realized that deep down, in the depths of the person he was — he was someone that was brilliant. 
Almost radiant scarlet in the rough gravel it dwelled upon. And you were perhaps the only one who knew that. The thought of that had made you bitter for a while, because such a gem shouldn’t be lost in the ether. Yet, there was a part of you that recognized that it was alright. Because you were already there. He wasn’t alone anymore. And he was glad for it. 
Soon enough, you both realized that you were going the same route home. Just that you liked to walk home and he liked to take his bike. And because he doesn’t like abrupt endings, just as in the book. So, he suggested walking you home himself. After that, he thought about it. After that day, he left his bike at home. 
And then he came up to you about walking home together. That first time he asked you to walk home with him, he’d tried to play it cool. He’d never gone home with anyone, let alone a girl. Let alone you.
And so, conclusion is that he was nervous.
He wanted to do well about it. 
Yet, he was a trainwreck almost immediately.
“You know what, I changed my mind. You can go ahead if you want.” he’d said, looking anywhere but at you. “I’m not really the best company.”
You looked at him with a raised brow. “You just told me that you wanna get home together.”
“Yeah, but I—”
“You think I care?” you shot back, smiling and pulled at his arm. “Come on, let’s go.”
“Hey, aren’t I gonna have a choice here?”
You giggled. “When someone makes a promise, he gives up his right to rescind the offer!”
You could hear him grumbling under his breath, but it was nothing too bad to be sure. And that didn’t matter, not when his hands were warm against your own. Not when you could feel his scarlet eyes trailing against you so tenderly. Not when he was letting you lead the way anyway.
From that day forward, Ryomen Sukuna never went home alone again.
At first, you kept things quiet. At Sukuna’s request, of course. Sukuna didn’t want your name dragged through the mud because of him. People talked enough shit already. About how he was trouble, how he was destined for nowhere good. They just say everything that doesn't count to you. 
You knew better, but he hated the idea of you being lumped in with his reputation. After all, you were better than he was, almost akin to a damn real life angel. You deserved better than having been considered a deal with him.
But of course, the stubborn girl you were was steadfast in saying no and only no. Not even when he gets into the worst situations.
“Why do you even hang around me?” he asked one afternoon, leaning against the chain-link fence near the basketball court. The sun glinted off the sweat on his brow from another fight he hadn’t started but definitely finished.
Sukuna huffed, leaning back against the wall as you pressed the bandage onto his arm with more care than he thought necessary. His crimson eyes narrowed slightly, but the rare smile tugging at his lips betrayed the amusement he tried to hide.  
“You’re terrible at this, you know that?” he muttered, his tone gruff.  
“Oh, I’m sorry, hotshot.” you shot back, glancing up at him with mock offense. “Next time I’ll let you bleed all over the place like some dramatic action hero.”  
He rolled his eyes. “I’ve had worse.”  
“Yeah, yeah, Mr. I’ve Had Worse.” You smirked, smoothing the edges of the bandage down. “You’re lucky I’m even doing this.”  
“Why?” he asked, almost challengingly.  
“Because I want to.” you said simply, not bothering to look up as you reached for another bandage. “That a problem?”  
“That’s a terrible reason, really.” he muttered, his lips twitching. “Not well thought out.”  
“And if it is?” you asked, finally glancing up at him with a playful glint in your eyes. “Whatchu planning to do about it?”  
For a moment, Sukuna just stared at you, his sharp features softening in the warm glow of the room. The mischievous curl of your lips, the way you leaned in just slightly closer than you needed to—it was infuriating and endearing all at once.  
“Dunno, really.” he said, his voice low but tinged with humor. “Maybe I’ll let you keep patching me up. You’re already doing such a stellar job here.”  
You scoffed, giving his arm a light smack. “Ungrateful jerk.”  
“Careful now.” he teased, his grin widening. “You keep calling me names, and I might start bleeding just to make you work harder.”  
“Don’t tempt me with a good time.” you shot back, laughing. “I’ll use glitter bandages next time. Make you look real tough.”  
Sukuna chuckled, a rare sound that made your heart flip in your chest. “You’re lucky you’re cute.” he muttered.  
“And you’re lucky I like fixing up dumbasses who can’t avoid getting hurt.” you replied, sticking the last bandage on his arm with an overly dramatic pat. “Done. Now, try not to get stabbed again for, like, a week, yeah?”  
“No promises, babe.” he said, standing up and rolling his shoulders with a smirk. “But I’ll let you keep playing nurse if I do.”  
“Deal.” you said, grinning. “As long as you don’t complain next time.”  
“Not a chance.” Sukuna muttered, though the rare, genuine smile still lingered as he followed you out of the room.
As you finished packing away the first aid kit, Sukuna leaned casually against the chain wall, his usual confidence back in full swing. You glanced up at him, hesitating for a moment as you watched him flex his arm slightly, testing the bandages.  
“You know, ’kuna.” you began, your voice softer than before, “I don’t just patch you up because I feel like it.”  
Sukuna raised an eyebrow, his smirk faltering. “What? Do you do it for practice or something?”  
“No, no.” you said, laughing lightly. You stepped closer to him, your heart pounding, but you managed to hold his gaze. “I do it because I like you.”  
For the first time in what felt like forever, Ryomen Sukuna looked genuinely stunned. His crimson eyes widened slightly, his usual sharp tongue momentarily silenced. He looked at you as the sly look in your face slowly melted into the tender demure one, blushing bright everywhere on you. But almost instantaneously, you got your resolve back.
“…What?” he finally said, the word coming out quieter than you’d expected.  
“I like you, I said.” you repeated, more confidently this time. “Like, really like you. And not just because you let me fix you up after you inevitably get into trouble. I like you.”  
Sukuna stared at you, his expression unreadable. For a moment, you worried you’d miscalculated, that maybe he didn’t feel the same way. But then, ever so slightly, his lips twitched.  
“You’re serious?” he asked, his voice low.  
“Completely.” you said, crossing your arms with a grin. “What, is that so hard to believe? You’re not that bad, you know.”  
His gaze softened, a rare vulnerability creeping into his usually guarded expression. “…I didn’t think you were stupid enough to like someone like me.” he muttered, but there was no bite in his tone.  
You rolled your eyes, stepping even closer to him. “Well, surprise! Turns out I’m just that stupid.”  
For a moment, Ryomen Sukuna didn’t say anything. Then, with a quiet chuckle, he rubbed the back of his neck, his grin finally breaking through. “You’re unbelievable.”  
“And you’re not saying anything about how you feel about this.” you teased, poking him lightly in the chest.  
He smirked, grabbing your hand before you could poke him again. “Maybe I’ll keep you guessing.”  
“Or maybe you’ll just admit you like me too, you know?” you shot back, leaning in slightly.  
Sukuna sighed dramatically, though the corner of his mouth twitched. “Fine. I like you too. Happy?”  
You grinned. “Ecstatic.”  
He rolled his eyes, but the faint blush creeping up his neck didn’t go unnoticed. “You’re gonna be a pain in my ass about this, aren’t you?”  
“Absolutely, hotshot.” you said, laughing.  
Sukuna shook his head, but his rare, genuine smile lingered. “Yeah, well… don’t expect me to go easy on you just because I like you back.”  
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” you said, winking back at him. “Now come on, I still want that sundae from the convenience store!”
And for the first time, Ryomen Sukuna didn’t look like the untouchable, tough guy everyone thought he was. 
He looked happy.  
Too damn happy.
And it looked good on him.
Both of you enjoyed the quiet of your new bliss as much as possible. You both kept to yourselves most of the time, expanding on the adventures you already made as your routine. You both kept it discreet, and this time because you both weren’t ready for anyone to just know all about it. You wanted to keep Sukuna all to yourself. And in turn, he did too.
But despite your best efforts, secrets have a way of getting out.
The day everything changed was after Sukuna took on three older guys who thought they could corner him near the sports field. He walked away victorious, of course, but with a split lip and a bloodied brow. You rushed to his side without a second thought, cupping his face as the crowd murmured around you.
“You’re bleeding again, 'kuna.” you said, dabbing at the cut with a tissue from your bag.
“I’m fine.” he grumbled, though his eyes softened under your touch.
The crowd wasn’t subtle, not one bit.
“Wait... are they... together?”
“No way.”
“Her? With him?”
“She’s too good for that delinquent.”
Ryomen Sukuna heard every word, his jaw tightening. He was used to the judgment, but hearing it directed at you made his blood boil. He was ready to snap, to tell everyone to shut the hell up until you squeezed his hand.
“Let them talk their shit.” you said calmly, meeting his eyes. “I don’t care.”
The warmth in your voice melted the tension in his shoulders. You didn’t care. And that was enough.
From that day forward, Sukuna didn’t bother hiding how much he cared about you. He walked you to class, carried your bag when it was heavy, and glared down at anyone who dared look at you sideways. People whispered, of course, but no one was brave enough to say anything to his face.
You saw sides of him no one else did, one he only exposed to the person he held dearest. The one that devotedly belonged to you. And you kept him safe, closer than ever before. You started to build a puzzle, full of every bit of him, little by little. 
The Sukuna who stole fries off your plate but always left you the last bite, who texted you to make sure you got home safe, even when you weren’t walking together, and who fought less often because you made him want to be better.
He was still rough around the edges, still intimidating to everyone else, that was true enough. But with you? He was just Sukuna. Your Sukuna. And that was all you ever wanted him to be.
Life did change after your relationship went public, though not as dramatically as you might have expected. Sukuna was still the notorious troublemaker with a penchant for glaring and intimidation. 
You were still the person everyone was convinced was too good for him. But if anyone thought Ryomen Sukuna would mellow out completely, they were sorely mistaken. Especially now that you both were in the last year of high school.
That one afternoon, as the two of you walked home together, Sukuna stuffed his hands into his pockets, his usual scowl in place. “People still can’t believe you’re with me, y’know.” he muttered. “Heard some idiot today say you’re slumming it. Tch.”
You snorted, nudging his side. “Just jealous, ‘kuna. I’m pretty sure they can’t handle that the delinquent king got the best catch in school.”
Sukuna raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching upward slyly. “You think I’m the delinquent king? Sounds like I need a crown or something, don’t I?”
“Oh, please.” you teased. “If anyone’s getting a crown, it’s me. I’m obviously the one carrying this relationship, my love.”
Sukuna stopped dead in his tracks, dramatically clutching his chest. “Wow. Betrayed by my own girlfriend. After all the fights I didn’t start for your sake.”
You roll your eyes playfully. “You’re such a drama queen.”
“You knew that going in.” he shot back, grinning now as he draped an arm over your shoulder.
The playful banter continued as you reached his house. You both planned to eat dinner together before he took you home. Your parents didn’t mind that you were coming home late, since they were also working. 
And they understood that you were after the volleyball team manager. Though they didn’t know about how early you finished — primarily because Sukuna always ends practice early so he can spend more time with you before he takes you home.
Coming inside the house, he welcomes you inside. Sukuna carefully kicked off his shoes with a huff, flopping onto the couch like a cat claiming its territory. You followed him rather quickly, settling in beside him as he lazily tossed an arm around you.
“You know, my love, I’ve been thinking.” you said, tilting your head to look at him. “You’re actually kind of sweet when no one’s looking.”
“Don’t start spreading lies now.” he teased, his grin widening.
“Oh, I’m serious. Big bad Ryomen Sukuna, all soft and cuddly.”
He narrowed his scarlet eyes. “Say that again, and I’m carrying you out of here fireman style.”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
The next thing you knew, Sukuna had hoisted you up over his shoulder, laughing as you squealed and flailed. “Ryomen Sukuna! Put me down!”
“Too late, babe.” he said smugly. “You called me soft. Now you’re getting evicted.”
“I live here half the time already!”
“Not anymore!”
Eventually, he relented, setting you back down with a grin that made your heart skip. You huffed, crossing your arms. “You’re impossible.”
“And you love it, don’t you?” he said confidently, leaning down until his face was inches from yours.
“…Maybe.” you admitted with a smile.
He grinned triumphantly. “That’s what I thought.”
As much as the world still saw Ryomen Sukuna as the intimidating, wild Cursed King, you knew the truth. Beneath the scowl and reputation was a boy who loved fiercely, who fought for what mattered, and who never let go of the one person who saw the real him. 
And honestly? That was more than enough for you.
══════════════════
AFTER A YEAR AND A HALF, YOUR MOTHER AND FATHER FOUND OUT. The news broke just right before the typical family dinner on the Sunday. And you had wished it never happened. Because it just broke your heart to endure this.
There was a seemingly innocent comment from a well-meaning neighbor who talked with her high schooler daughter about how "Ryomen Sukuna from the volleyball team always walks you home." And naturally, that made your parents curious. A little digging here and there from the neighbor, it was out.
You could practically hear the record scratch when your mother paused mid-stir of the soup, eyes narrowing suspiciously. Your father, ever the stoic one, lowered his newspaper with a furrowed brow.
It didn’t take long for their disapproval to make itself crystal clear.
They didn’t care that Sukuna’s presence grounded you, that his gruff demeanor melted into rare softness when it was just the two of you. They didn’t see the boy who remembered the little things—how you liked your ramen without onions, your favorite snacks for stressful days, or how he always carried an extra umbrella just in case you forgot yours.
None of that mattered.
What they saw was a scowling boy with tattoos crawling up his arms and a reputation for fists that spoke louder than words. They didn’t hear his low, thoughtful hums as he followed the rhythm of the anime openings he adored, or his boyish grin when he perfectly timed his spikes on the volleyball court.
Your mother wrung her hands, pacing. “That boy—he’s nothing but trouble, I’m telling you. What future does someone like that have?”
“Volleyball captain or not, it doesn’t matter.” your father grunted. “He’s not the kind of person I want near my daughter.”
You clenched your fists under the table, biting your tongue until it hurt. They didn’t know him, not really. They didn’t know how he carefully patched you up after your own scrapes or how he walked at your pace, even when it was inconvenient for him. 
They hadn’t seen him laugh, hadn’t heard his proud, slightly cocky declaration when you aced an important test: That’s my girl.
“I love him.” you said, voice steady despite the lump in your throat.
Silence fell over the room, heavy and suffocating.
Your mother looked at you as though you’d just confessed to a crime. “Love?” she repeated incredulously. “You’re too young to understand love, and especially with him.”
Your father’s jaw tightened. “You’ll end this nonsense immediately.”
“No.” you said firmly, standing up, your chair scraping against the floor. “I won’t.”
They didn't expect that.
“You don’t get it, do you?” you continued, trembling but resolute. “He’s not what you think. He’s kind, thoughtful, and he’s helped me become a better person. Just because he’s rough around the edges doesn’t mean he’s bad.”
“You’re throwing your future away for him?” your mother exclaimed, pacing across the living room.
“He’s nothing but trouble!” your father added, shaking his head. “We didn’t raise you to make these kinds of decisions.”
“I’m not throwing away anything!” you shouted back, voice shaking. “Sukuna’s not what you think he is. You don’t know him at all!”
“We know enough, daughter.” your mother said sharply. “Boys like him don’t change. They just drag you down with them.”
The words hit harder than you expected, cutting deep.
“Well, maybe I get to decide what my future looks like!” you shot back, tears blurring your vision. “And it’s none of your business who I love!”
Silence hung heavy in the air, thick with words that couldn’t be unsaid. Your parents’ faces were hard, unyielding, and it was clear there would be no convincing them tonight. Heart pounding, you grabbed your bag and stormed toward the door.
“Where do you think you’re going?” your father demanded.
“Anywhere but here.” you spat, slamming the door behind you.
You didn’t know where you were headed until your feet carried you right in front of Sukuna’s house. By the time you reached his door, your throat was raw from holding back sobs, and your chest felt like it was going to burst. You knocked twice, the sound echoing in the quiet evening.
The door carefully creaked open, revealing your Sukuna in sweatpants and a loose hoodie, hair messy like he’d just woken up from a nap. His sharp scarlet eyes softened when he saw you standing there with tear-streaked cheeks.
“Hey, babe.” he said, blinking. “What are you doing here?”
“I ran away from home.” you blurted, voice trembling.
There was a beat of silence before he stepped aside. “Well, come in. Can’t you be out here in the cold.”
You shuffled inside, dropping your bag by the door as Sukuna closed it behind you. 
“What happened?”
“Rough patch.” You whispered to your boyfriend. “.....So I left.”
“You left?”
“Yes.”
He looked at you as though he didn’t believe you. “You have a bag with you.”
“Okay, look. It was bad and I ran away.”
“You ran away?” he repeated, leaning against the wall with crossed arms. “Like, for real? With the dramatic door slam and everything?”
“Yes.” you muttered, sinking onto the couch. “My parents found out and…..they don’t like you.”
Sukuna snorted, though there was a flicker of something softer in his eyes. “Yeah, well, I’m not exactly a parent’s dream, y’know. Shocking, I know.”
“They said you’d ruin my future, my love.” you admitted, voice cracking.
He let out a low whistle. “Damn. Harsh.”
“I told them they didn’t know you.” you continued, wiping your eyes. “But they didn’t care. They said they did. Like you were some villain or something.”
He scratched the back of his neck, looking vaguely uncomfortable. “I mean… I do kinda have the whole villain aesthetic going for me.”
You glared at him. “Not helping.”
“Sorry, sorry.” he said, though a small grin tugged at his lips. “So, what’s the plan now? Gonna fight me for the good spot on the couch and share my instant ramen?”
The absurdity of it made you laugh through your tears. “Sounds like a great future.”
Sukuna grinned, leaning back against the couch. “Your parents are probably losing their minds right now.”
“They’ll get over it….eventually.” you said stubbornly, though doubt lingered at the edge of your voice.
“Maybe so.” he agreed, his voice softer. “But if they don’t, you can stay here. I mean, I’m kind of a mess, but I’ve got room.”
“Really?” you asked quietly.
He shrugged. “Yeah. You’re not so bad to have around.”
The bittersweet warmth in his words made your chest ache. “Thank you, my love. Really…..I’m lucky to have you.” you said, leaning your head against his shoulder.
“Anytime, babe. Don’t worry about it.” he muttered, resting his cheek against your hair. “But, uh, just one rule.”
“What?”
“No eating all the good ramen flavors. I’m serious.”
You laughed, the sound lighter now. “Deal.”
As messy and uncertain as everything felt, sitting there with your Sukuna, so domestically and so enjoyable in the warmth of each other — everything about it didn’t seem so bad. If anything, it was a lot more than what you would expect. It was a life worth living.
The steam from Sukuna’s shower lingered in your skin as you stood by the fogged mirror, brushing your damp hair out of your face. The fight with your parents still sat heavy on your chest, but the warm water had washed away some of the weight. You exhaled slowly, steeling yourself before slipping into one of Sukuna’s oversized shirts that smelled faintly of laundry soap and him.  
Padding out into the living room, you were met with the comforting aroma of something savory simmering in the kitchen. Sukuna stood at the stove, bare-chested except for a pair of gray sweatpants slung low on his hips, stirring a pot of miso soup. His hair was a mess, damp from the lingering humidity of the house.  
“You cook?” you teased, leaning against the doorway with a raised brow.  
He didn’t even look up. “Don’t sound so surprised now. Didn’t I cook you your lunch during festival week?”  
“Oh! I thought that was store bought.” You teased him.
He raised a brow, amused. “Oh, is that so? How about I stop cooking—”
“No, no. Continue.”
He hums, moving closer to kiss your cheek. “Hm, that’s what I thought.”
The casual affection in his voice settled something inside you. The warmth of his lips stayed tender against the pinkish hues of your cheeks. You looked at him for a moment. He shook his head and smiled, pointing at the dining table. 
You nodded and sat at the small dining table, watching him move around the kitchen with surprising ease. He plated rice into two porcelain bowls, poured the steaming miso soup into the smaller soup bowls, and set them down in front of you with a clink.  
“Nothing fancy, babe. Sorry about that. I didn’t get to the grocery today. Practice lasted longer today.” he said, sitting across from you. “But it’s good to curb the cold from you, since it’s warm.”  
“Don’t worry about it, my love. It’s more than perfect.” you murmured sincerely.  
The first spoonful was simple but comforting, warmth spreading through you as you ate in comfortable silence. It was just like a hug, like your beloved boyfriend’s tender hug. You hummed as he watched you eat. Soon enough, Sukuna ate with his usual ease, occasionally glancing up at you as if to check if you were okay.  
“So……” he said after a while, leaning back in his chair. “Are you really not going home tonight?”  
Your spoon froze midway to your mouth. “I don’t know. Not tonight. And…..Maybe not for a while.”  
He nodded, his expression unreadable. “Then what? Are you moving in with me?”  
Your heart skipped a beat. “What?”  
“I mean, I don’t….mind.” he shrugged at you nonchalantly. “We’re young, yeah, but if that’s what you want, I’m not against it.”  
“You’re not?” you asked, stunned by how easily he said it.  
“Nah.” he said firmly. “If you’re here, I’m gonna live my life taking responsibility for you.”  
Your breath caught as the gentle pink in your cheeks turned cherry red. “Sukuna—”  
“I’m serious, babe.” he cut in, his voice softer now but unwavering. “You just walked out on everything for me. That’s not small, you know? I have to do the same. So I’m gonna make sure you’re happy, whatever it takes. I’ll figure it out. You’re my one and only for the rest of our lives.”  
The sincerity in his words hit you like a tidal wave. Suddenly, brutish tears blurred your vision, and before you knew it, the spoon clattered onto the table as you stood up. Sukuna blinked in surprise as you stumbled blindly around the table and threw yourself into his arms.  
His chair scraped back as he stood to catch you, his arms wrapping tightly around your trembling form. “Whoa, hey.” he murmured, sounding a little panicked. “What’s this? Are you crying on me now?”  
“You’re such an idiot, you’re such an idiot!” you sniffled against his shoulder, voice thick with emotion. “But I love you so much.”  
He froze for half a second before laughing, warm and genuine. “Yeah? Well, I love you too, idiot.”  
You pulled back just enough to see his face, your tears still clinging to your lashes. His grin was crooked, soft in a way that made your chest ache with affection. He takes in the look of you, with that devoted haze that could only be once in a lifetime. 
“Guess we’re stuck with each other now, huh?” he teased, brushing a tear from your cheek with his thumb.  
“Yeah, yeah.” you whispered, smiling through your tears. “For the rest of our lives.”  
Sukuna grinned, pulling you back into a hug. “That’s good to hear.” he murmured against your hair. “Cause you know that’s exactly what I want, hm?”  
In that moment, with his warmth surrounding you and the future uncertain, you felt the tears well away and calm take over you. With this love, this warmth, this man — somehow everything just felt less frightening. And it made you feel so lucky. 
So goddamn lucky to live, to have this love. This life. Because you knew that no matter how messy things got, you’d be okay as long as you had each other. As long as you had Sukuna, you’d be alright.
══════════════════
THE MORNING WAS RATHER UNEVENTFUL. Well, that was until the blue hour huddled through the capricious skies. The knock at Sukuna’s door was heavy and deliberate, filled with the weight of everything unresolved. 
You stiffened instantly, your heart thudding against your ribs as you glanced toward the window. Your breath caught when you saw them—your parents standing stiffly on the porch, your father’s expression hard and unreadable, your mother fidgeting with the strap of her purse.  
“It’s them, my love.” you whispered, stepping back as a lump formed in your throat.  
Sukuna, drying a dish at the sink, glanced up and set the towel down with calm purpose.  “Your parents?” he asked, his tone neutral.  
You nodded, unable to form words. “I don’t want to see them, not right now.” you muttered finally, wrapping your arms around yourself.  
Sukuna’s sharp eyes softened as he walked toward you. He placed a warm hand on your shoulder, grounding you. “You don’t have to, babe.” he said quietly.  
Relief washed over you, but it was short-lived as he made his way to the door.  “What are you doing?” you asked in a panic.  
He glanced back at you, a small, reassuring grin tugging at his lips. “Gonna talk to them.”  
“Ryomen Sukuna—”  
“Hey, hey. Just trust me, okay?” he said gently, giving you a tender gaze. “I’ve got this.”  
Before you could stop him, he opened the door and stepped outside, closing it softly behind him. Your heart raced as you crept toward the window, peeking through the curtain.
Your parents stood rigidly on the porch, their expressions guarded but uncertain. Sukuna stood tall, almost so proud, with his broad-shouldered and unflinching, meeting their gazes with calm confidence.  
“I see you’ve come.” he greeted politely, his usual sharp edge tempered by something respectful but firm.  
“Where is our daughter?” your father demanded, his voice gruff and commanding.  
“She’s inside my house.” Sukuna said evenly. “But she doesn’t want to see you right now.”  
Your mother’s face faltered. “We just want to talk to her.”  
Sukuna nodded, understanding in his expression. “I get that, mam. I really do.” he said calmly, “But I also get why she’s upset. I know I’m not exactly the kind of guy parents dream of for their kid. I know that much. ”  
Your father’s frown deepened, but Sukuna stood his ground. 
“I’m not here to make excuses for myself.” Sukuna continued, his voice steady. “I’ve been in fights, well I used to. I’ve stopped, ever since me and her dated. But I know that I’ve got a reputation, and I know how that looks to you. But I need you to know this—” he took a deep breath, his voice unwavering, “I love your daughter. And only her.”  
Your mother’s lips parted in surprise, but Sukuna wasn’t finished.  
“She might not move back home with you and that’s her choice, I respect that from her.” he said, glancing between them. “But I want you to know that she’s safe with me. I’ll take care of her."
He only continues when they didn't speak. "I’ll make sure she’s never hungry, never sick, and that she always has a roof over her head. I’ve got a job, and it pays well enough for a graduating high school student. And my parents wouldn’t mind having her here either.”  
Your parents were stunned, the weight of his words settling over them. Even from behind the window, you could see the cracks forming in their defenses.  Sukuna’s lips curved into a small, genuine smile. 
“I hope that clears things up, mam, sir.” he said simply. “I love your daughter. I really do. I hope you see that. I hope you see that I’ll always live and breathe for her.”  
Silence stretched between them. Your father cleared his throat, clearly at a loss for words. Your mother’s eyes glistened, though she remained quiet.  Sukuna dipped his head respectfully at them. He knows they would need time to process all that. 
“Thank you for coming, really.” he said gently. “You can come see her anytime if she’s ready. But for now, let’s respect what she needs. Please.”  
With that, he turned and walked back inside, closing the door behind him.  You stood frozen, tears welling up in your weary eyes as Sukuna leaned casually against the doorframe, his expression unreadable.
He takes a soft breath before he looks back at you, almost too shyly. Almost like he wants to hide away as the warm scarlet of his eyes echoed on his cheeks too. “You heard all that, huh?” he asked, voice low but amused.  
“You’re unbelievable, my love.” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion.  
His lips quivered into a lopsided grin. “In a good way, I hope.”  
Without thinking, you surged forward, throwing your arms around him and holding him tightly. Sukuna hesitated for only a moment before wrapping his arms around you, his warmth enveloping you completely.  
“I love you. So so much.” you murmured into his shoulder, your voice breaking.  
He chuckled, the sound low and comforting. “Yeah? Well, I love you too. Always.”  
You pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, which softened in a way they rarely did. You don’t think you’ve ever felt love like this, not even before when you had crushes. Or not even when you fell in love for the first time. In a way, Sukuna had made his own category in your heart, in your soul. He was irreplaceable, he always will be.
“Thank you, for being in my life. I don’t know how I’d be without you.” you whispered, the weight of everything he’d done settling over you.  
He brushed a tear from your cheek with his thumb. “Don’t thank me, babe.” he said with a grin. “This is just what you do when you love someone, right?”  
You hummed back at him. You felt his hands drift through your hair, slowly letting the strands slip through his fingers in a careful caress. He kisses your temple, meeting your eyes. Your chest ached, full to the brim with affection for the boy who had always stood by you, fierce and unyielding.  
“Guess we’re stuck with each other, aren’t we?” you said softly.  
“Damn right, babe.” he teased, pulling you back into his arms. “Forever or nothing.”  
══════════════════
epilogue
This year’s championship dinner was already wild, perhaps even wilder than the last year. Well, that was to be expected, especially with Captain Ryomen Sukuna negotiating the afterparty budget with the university himself — and considering he was bringing in the best result the university ever had in sports, why wouldn’t he get the big afterparty budget?
There was so much of the abundant hotpot bubbling at every table, plate after plate stacked high as if it's attempting to reach heaven, and the varsity volleyball team loud with post-victory energy.
Ryomen Sukuna, however, was in his own world, calmly devouring hotpot like the unbothered menace he was, chopsticks working methodically through noodles. And that you expected. Your boyfriend was exhausted.
You, meanwhile, had everyone's full attention as you dramatically told the story. 
“So there I was, the most beautiful person alive.” you said, waving your chopsticks like a microphone. “I was just standing in Sukuna’s living room, freaking out because my parents showed up. And I told Sukuna I didn’t want to see them. What does this guy do?”
You pointed dramatically at him and he didn't even look up. “He walks outside, so brave with his barefoot, like some rom-com protagonist, and tells my dad—who, by the way, looks like he grills steaks with his bare hands sort of energy—”  
“Big dad energy, got it, got it.” Vice Captain Gojo Satoru interjected, already wheezing.  
“—‘I love your daughter, and I’ll always live for her!’” you said, attempting to mimic your Sukuna’s gruff tone.  
Setter Geto Suguru slapped the table, howling. “Nah, stop it. THE Captain Ryomen Sukuna? Mister ‘I’ll spike a volleyball through your face if you breathe wrong?’ Are you sure?”  
“I’m serious!” you laughed. “He even told them he had a job that already pays well and that his parents wouldn’t mind me moving in  with them!”  
Middle Blocker Nanami Kento choked on his drink, covering his mouth with a fist. “There’s no way this is real. There’s….There’s just really no way we’re talking about the same guy, senpai.”  
Fellow Middle Blocker Fushiguro Megumi blinked, his brain visibly glitching. “The same Sukuna who made us do suicide drives on the balls he spikes because Yuuji said practice was ‘lowkey chill’?”  
“Yes! I'm very serious about how this happened, guys!” you grinned.  
Libero Itadori Yuuji was face down on the table, banging his fist. He was trying not to laugh, but all the same failing with great effort. “I can’t breathe! I’m so….I’m so sorry, senpai! This… this is ridiculous! Captain gave a Ted Talk on responsible boyfriend duties?”  
“And he ended it with, ‘I hope that clears things up.’ Like he was closing a business meeting!” you said, nearly wheezing. “I really wish our phones today were there for recording. I would have avoided the trouble of not being believed!”
Suguru wiped tears from his eyes. “Bro, this is it. This is damn good soup. Amazing poetry. We gotta frame this, oh my god.”  
“I’m making it our new team motto, guys!” Satoru declared between gasps. “Right before every match—‘I LOVE YOUR DAUGHTER AND I’LL ALWAYS LIVE FOR HER!’”  
Megumi groaned loudly, head in his hands. “This is my nightmare. I should have joined another team, this is horrible.”  
Meanwhile, Captain Ryomen Sukuna hadn’t flinched once, calmly stirring his hotpot like this was all beneath him. He slurped some noodles, glanced up, and deadpanned, “You’re all idiots.”  
“That’s Mr. Idiot to you, Captain.” Satoru quipped.  
Suguru grinned wickedly. “We’re getting matching shirts. I think we still have an afterparty budget, no? It would be great practice shirts! The tagline in bold has to be like ‘Property of the Captain: Loves Someone’s Daughter, Lives for Her.’”  
“Shut the hell up, Geto. You’re so annoying!” Sukuna muttered, jabbing at the hotpot with his chopsticks.  
“C’mon, my love. This is really great, no?” you teased sweetly.  
His chopsticks froze mid-air. Slowly, he turned his head, glaring at you with the heat of a thousand serves.  “You’re walking home later.” he deadpanned.  
“Don’t worry, senpai!” Satoru cackled, looking at Sukuna and winked. “I’ll give you a ride—to help out my love here!”  
The entire table exploded into chaos as Sukuna sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose.  He was already regretting even arranging the afterparty. And most of all, letting all of you be friends and letting them rub off even more sly behaviour to you.  
“You’re all getting extra laps tomorrow. And you’ll have to run faster! Or you’ll get benched for the next practice match with Kyoto!” he grumbled, but there was a faint smirk tugging at his lips.  
The current threat caused the entire team scattered about in the restaurant in various tables to erupt in groans. At the very least no one was looking at them weird, the whole restaurant was rented. But the chaos ensued, people standing up and arguing that practice should be cancelled tomorrow since you just won. 
Everything was practically in shambles, with Yuuji sliding halfway off his chair, still gasping for breath, still laughing. He was the only one still, besides Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru. Of course that’s to be expected. Itadori Yuuji seemed to be certainly not human with his records.
“Bro, Captain.” he wheezed, pointing shakily at Sukuna, still laughing. “The mental image of you standing there, barefoot, saying ‘I love your daughter and I’ll live for her’— I’m done. I’m tapping out. It’s so corny."
“Straight to the history books, Cap!” Suguru added, wiping tears from his eyes. “Future captains need to hear this legend. Seriously.”  
“Coach is gonna cry laughing when he hears about this. I can’t believe he missed this because of a phone call.” Satoru snickered. “Imagine the look on his face when we put it on our team banner.”
He stood, mimicking a grand reveal. “‘National University Varsity Volleyball Champions! Their motto? We Love Your Daughter and We’ll Live For Her!’”  
“You know what…..Let’s just not have shame, at this point. Put it on the team jackets, on the tumblers. On the balls. Just put it on there. Everything!” Megumi groaned, his head in his hands. Nanami Kento pours him a cup of sake. “Might as well go all the way.”  
“Shut it, Fushiguro.” Sukuna muttered darkly, stabbing a piece of tofu as though it owed him money. “None of you are funny.”  
“Oh, but my love, we are!” Satoru teased, leaning in with a mischievous grin.  
Sukuna slammed his chopsticks down with a loud clack. “I don’t care what the coach says tomorrow. We have practice tomorrow. Three hours. No breaks.”  
The table collectively gasped. 
You snickered under your cup of sake.
Sukuna remains unfazed about it all.
“Captain, please don't do this!” Yuuji begged suddenly, his bright eyes widened. “I have weak joints!”  
“You’re built like a tank, and you were laughing about this like you don’t have an issue with it. So stand proud, Itadori.” Sukuna deadpanned, continuing to eat hotpot. “Suck it up.”  
“You know this is just making it worse, right?” you whispered to him, grinning.  
He gave you a flat look. “You’re definitely walking home.”  
“I’ll take you home, senpai—” Satoru happily chirped.  
Sukuna’s eye twitched. “Shut up before I spike your face, Gojo.”  
Nanami Kento, who had been quietly sipping his sake throughout the madness, finally sighed. “Honestly, I think it’s romantic.” he said with a shrug.  
Everyone froze, stunned.
You almost choked on your next cup of sake.
“Nanami Kento.” Suguru said slowly, snickering as he drank. “Did you just say something sappy?”  
“I’ve had a long day, okay? I’m crashing out, let me be.” Nanami muttered, looking vaguely ashamed. Just as Fushiguro had earlier. Fushiguro Megumi refills his senpai’s cup. “And the booze isn’t helping. God damn it.”
The laughter and the badgering started all over again, louder and more chaotic than before. Sukuna, despite his threats, couldn’t entirely hide the faint smirk tugging at his lips. Leaning toward you, he muttered under his breath. You turned your heat at him, meeting his warm eyes.
“If they don’t shut up, I’m taking this hotpot home and eating it alone.”  
You laughed, nudging his shoulder. “It’s okay, my love. You’ll live for me, right?”  
He groaned. “You’re never gonna let that go, are you?”  
“Never, lover boy.” you grinned.  
He could only sigh as you leaned against him, happily looking at everyone being passionate in arguing against practice tomorrow once again. You giggled as you started to talk with them again. And in that rowdy, absurd, chaotic moment surrounded by chaos, Ryomen Sukuna realized—he wouldn’t have it any other way. 
This is life worth living, after all.
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shanastoryteller · 20 hours ago
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Hi shana! Hope you have a great day!
Bit of a strange question ... So, the recent ao3 maintenance had me read through your mdzs fics again (I love lynchpin so much!) and it had me notice something: there are quite a few redemption fics for pretty much any chara out there, except for jin zixun. And tbh, I wouldn't even know how to start writing one for him, but I thought, shana's a really good author, maybe she would have an idea?
Obviously not asking for a fic, more like, if someone challenged you to write it, how would you go about it?
weeellllllllll
i don't think jin zixun really needs to be redeemed
what's he guilty of, really? he's an asshole, sure, but he's not evil. he doesn't betray anyone. he doesn't scheme. he doesn't lie. he's just a chess piece, manipulated and used and ultimately discarded. he hates wei wuxian because he's rude to jin zixuan, because the rumors of his relationship with jiang yanli sully jin zixuan's reputation in turn. hating wei wuxian doesn't make him evil. in both lynchpin and become tomorrow i try and write him as a jerk, but not a bad guy
however if we were to make him likeable, when it comes to tweaking characters enough to polish them up without making them unrecognizable, you gotta ask yourself three questions
what is his best quality?
what's his worst quality?
how can his best quality be used to soften his worst quality?
i'd say his best quality is his loyalty and his worst is his gullibility. you should also look at the inverse of this - his worst quality is his loyalty because it leads to him doing stupid shit and acting like an asshole when it's not necessary, and his best quality is his gullibility because phrased another way, he's unthinkingly trusting of certain people.
so you'd take the person he's loyal to - jin zixuan - and make him a good sympathetic character. you'd give jin zixun's overprotectiveness a reasoning - such as jin zixuan feeling constrained by the expectations of his station and father's reputation keeping him from acting as freely as he'd wish - and you'd use this to soften his gullibility by having him trust jin zixuan completely
looked at like this, jin zixun's foil is wei wuxian. he acts for jin zixuan as wei wuxian acts for jiang yanli, with similar reasoning, and similarly potentially disastrous results. we find wei wuxian good and compelling and sympathetic. why not jin zixun?
often i think the best thing to do is not necessarily adding or subtracting to a character, but taking the traits they already have and shifting them just enough to show a different angle, like holding a prism up to the window to make a rainbow. there's something good in there already. you just gotta look at it the right way
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occudo · 14 hours ago
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do u have any more fic recs perchance... I read the beauty and the beast one and it was FANTASTIC
Ohoho-- do I? Yes, yes I do. First of all, glad you liked it! ( if anyone interested the fic is @cirrus-grey 's Not quite a tale as old as time ) If you like fairy-tale re-tellings, I suggest Beastly Behaviour by Prim_the_Amazing -also based on Beauty and a Beast.
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Other, generally fantasy fic, I finished not to long ago and loved was @callmearcturus 's fic dustsceawung (with moth fae Jon)
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If you also like vampire AUs, I highly recommend Strange Manner by @crit20art (vampire Jon) @milkteamoon 's Tounge to Teeth (victorian vampire Jon) and enthralling by Prim_the_Amazing (vampire Martin)
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I also made a list of some of my other favorites here If you find something here you like, give them some love! Kudos and comments! They deserve it. (Also, just an extra disclamier some of these are rated T- just mind the tags)
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arilevenatz · 2 days ago
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Heart At Sea
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Pairing: Pirate!Wooyoung x reader
Genre/trope: Fluff, pirate au
Word count: 14.4k
Warnings: Self-harm, scars, whipping, Imk if I missed any!
AN: Finally woo gets his fic! I'm so excited to finish all 8 fanfictions of the members! I've had so much fun writing this. Also yes I did cry while writing this thank u very much. I just love wooyoung being so sweet and he's extra sweet to mc. I think everybody deserves a wooyoung in their life
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On the island of Seagrove, YN was known as the pharmacist's daughter. Her days were spent behind the counter of her father’s small shop, nestled near the docks. With her sleeves rolled up and her hair tied back, she sorted herbs, prepared remedies, and greeted customers with a quiet confidence.
Her father often ventured into the wild parts of the island, gathering rare plants and ingredients, leaving YN to tend the store. Though young, she had learned much from him—how to grind herbs into powders, mix tinctures, and recognize the faintest symptoms of illness. To the townsfolk, she wasn’t just a girl helping her father; she was a steady hand they could rely on.
The shop itself was simple but full of life. Shelves lined with glass jars and wooden boxes gave the space a calming scent of lavender and eucalyptus. The faint hum of the bustling harbor outside mixed with the occasional jingle of the shop’s bell, marking each new customer’s arrival.
A few townsfolk trickled into the small shop as the morning sun cast golden light through the windows. YN greeted each one with a warm smile that seemed to brighten the entire room.
“Good morning, Mr. Harris!” she chimed as an elderly fisherman stepped inside, clutching his back. “Here for the ointment again?”
“Aye, lass. This old spine of mine doesn’t let me forget it,” he grumbled, though his face softened at her cheerful demeanor.
YN bustled behind the counter, quickly grabbing a small jar of salve. “This should help, just like before! And don’t forget to warm it a little before applying—it works better that way,” she reminded him with a wink.
As he handed over a few coins, another customer entered—a young mother with a baby on her hip. “YN, do you have more of that chamomile tea? It’s the only thing helping my little one sleep these days.”
“Of course, I do!” YN said, her voice filled with enthusiasm. She fetched the tea leaves from a neatly labeled jar and handed them over. “Make sure to steep it for just a few minutes—too strong, and it might be a bit bitter.”
The mother smiled gratefully, the weight of her exhaustion easing just a bit under YN’s sunshine-like warmth.
One by one, people came and went, leaving the shop not just with their medicines but with lighter hearts. YN’s genuine kindness and optimism were infectious, and her presence made the small shop a place of comfort for everyone who stepped through its doors.
Every day, YN spent her hours in the shop, tending to customers with her signature warmth and energy. From sunrise until late afternoon, she ground herbs, mixed tinctures, and offered advice to anyone who came through the door. Her genuine care for others made her beloved in the town of Seagrove.
The shop’s bell jingled throughout the day, announcing each visitor. Sometimes it was a sailor seeking relief for a sore shoulder, or a mother in need of remedies for her child’s fever. YN treated them all with the same unwavering kindness, her cheerful voice and bright smile a constant in their lives.
When the day quieted, YN carefully closed the shop, counting the coins she had earned and tucking them into a small leather pouch. Slinging her basket over her arm, she walked the familiar cobblestone streets back to her home, greeting everyone along the way.
“YN! Thank you for the tea yesterday—it worked wonders!” called a baker as she passed by.
“Anytime! Let me know if you need more,” YN replied, waving with a grin.
The townsfolk adored her. To them, YN wasn’t just the pharmacist’s daughter—she was the heart of their little island, always ready to brighten someone’s day. As she reached her modest home, the warm glow of lantern light spilling from the windows, YN felt content. She had done her part for her community, as she did every day.
Aboard the Halazia, the sea stretched endlessly around the sleek black ship as it cut through the waves like a predator on the hunt. The crew was busy at work, each man fulfilling his role with precision honed through years of sailing under Captain Hongjoong’s command.
On the quarterdeck, Hongjoong stood with his hands clasped behind his back, his sharp eyes fixed on the horizon. His captain's coat billowed in the salty breeze, and a faint smirk played on his lips. “How much longer, Navigator?” he called without turning his head.
“Two hours at most, Captain,” Yunho replied from the helm, his hands steady on the wheel. His calm demeanor matched his confidence in guiding the Halazia through the labyrinth of islands and open waters.
Below deck, Yeosang organized his medical supplies in the dimly lit infirmary. The ship’s rocking didn’t bother him as he meticulously sharpened his tools and checked the cleanliness of bandages. He always prepared for the worst—life aboard a pirate ship demanded it.
Meanwhile, San was in the armory, inspecting the blades and sharpening the cutlasses. His focus was intense, his eyes gleaming with a dangerous energy. As the battle master, he made sure that every weapon on board was in top condition.
On the main deck, Mingi oversaw the crew, his booming voice carrying over the sound of the waves. “Secure those ropes properly! I don’t want to see slack before the next storm!” His role as boatswain made him responsible for the ship’s upkeep, and he took it seriously.
Wooyoung emerged from the galley with a knife in one hand and a basket of freshly cut fruit in the other. “Anyone hungry? I’m not making this twice!” he called out, his mischievous grin suggesting he’d already eaten more than his share.
Down by the cannons, Jongho stood inspecting the weapons that were his pride and responsibility. He ran his hands over the barrels, checking for cracks or defects, and tested the ammunition. Each cannon was polished and ready to fire at a moment’s notice.
Above them all, Seonghwa moved seamlessly between tasks, keeping the crew in line and ensuring the captain’s orders were carried out. As quartermaster and first mate, he was Hongjoong’s right hand and the ship’s enforcer. His sharp gaze missed nothing.
The Halazia wasn’t just a ship; it was a well-oiled machine, and its crew was a family forged by countless battles and storms. Today, however, their mission had a specific target—the peaceful island of Seagrove.
The island of Seagrove had always been a neutral land, a safe harbor for travelers, traders, and even the occasional pirate crew. Its position in the Azure Archipelago made it an essential stop for ships to restock supplies and repair damages, but the island’s policy of neutrality demanded careful diplomacy.
When the Halazia docked at Seagrove, the townsfolk took notice immediately. The sight of its dark sails and ominous figurehead was enough to send a ripple of unease through the streets. While it wasn’t unusual for the infamous crew to stop by, the knowledge of their ruthless reputation made the air feel heavy.
“Looks like the Halazia is back,” muttered an old fisherman, his eyes narrowing as he watched the crew disembark.
“Better keep your heads down,” his companion whispered. “They may not cause trouble, but it doesn’t mean they won’t if given a reason.”
The townspeople moved cautiously, their smiles forced and voices hushed. They weren’t hostile, but they walked on eggshells around the crew, offering a nervous politeness that thinly veiled their fear.
The crew of the Halazia, however, carried themselves with practiced nonchalance. They strode through the cobblestone streets as though they owned them, their weapons gleaming in the sunlight and their gazes sharp.
“Do you think they’re just here to restock?” a shopkeeper murmured.
“They always are,” another replied. “But you never know with pirates. Best to stay out of their way.”
Even as the Halazia crew wandered the town, visiting taverns or inspecting the market stalls, the people of Seagrove remained wary. Neutral land or not, the presence of the crew was enough to keep everyone on edge.
The Halazia crew spread across Seagrove, blending into the island’s usual bustle, though their presence kept the townsfolk on alert. Conversations among the crew were as varied as their personalities, with each man displaying his unique quirks.
In the marketplace, Wooyoung strolled between the stalls, his sharp eyes scanning the goods. He held up a peculiar-looking fruit, turning it in his hands.
“Think this is edible?” he asked, tossing it to Mingi, who had wandered over.
Mingi caught it effortlessly, giving the fruit a skeptical glance. “Edible, sure. But are you willing to test it first?”
Wooyoung grinned. “I’ll pass. Maybe I’ll give it to Yunho—he’s got the stomach for weird stuff.”
Nearby, Yunho overheard and called out, “Don’t think I didn’t hear that, Wooyoung! You’re not slipping anything strange into my food again!”
Wooyoung shrugged innocently. “Last time it was harmless! How was I supposed to know it’d turn your tongue blue?”
Down at the docks, Jongho was inspecting a stack of cannonballs that had just been unloaded from the ship. San leaned against a post nearby, watching him with a smirk.
“You check those like they’re treasure,” San teased.
“They might as well be,” Jongho replied, not looking up. “A bad cannonball could cost us a fight. I’m not taking chances.”
San crossed his arms. “You’re too serious. Maybe you should come spar with me later. Get rid of some of that tension.”
Jongho raised an eyebrow, finally meeting San’s gaze. “Spar? With you? You just want an excuse to show off.”
San grinned wider. “Maybe. But if you’re scared, just say so.”
“Sure.” Jongho rolled his eyes but didn’t rise to the bait.
In a quiet corner of the town square, Seonghwa and Hongjoong stood under the shade of an awning, observing the crew as they mingled with the townsfolk.
“They’re behaving themselves,” Seonghwa said, his tone neutral.
Hongjoong smirked. “As they should. We don’t need unnecessary trouble here.”
Seonghwa glanced sideways at his captain. “You say that now, but when have we ever left Seagrove without some kind of incident?”
Hongjoong chuckled. “Fair point. Let’s hope this time is different.”
In the shaded alleyway near the market, Yeosang stood at a herbalist’s stall, quietly inspecting bundles of dried plants. His sharp eye quickly sorted the useful from the unnecessary.
“These are poorly dried,” he remarked, holding up a brittle bundle of valerian root.
The herbalist, a wiry older man, looked startled. “I—I’m sorry, sir, but that’s all I’ve got right now.”
Yeosang sighed softly, placing the bundle back. “I need quality. If it crumbles before it’s used, it’s worthless.”
From behind him, Yunho approached with an easy grin. “Always so picky, Yeosang. It’s like you expect perfect conditions out here in the middle of nowhere.”
Yeosang didn’t glance back, his hands moving to inspect another jar. “A surgeon doesn’t get second chances, Yunho. The better my supplies, the better I can keep the rest of you alive.”
Yunho leaned against the stall, arms crossed. “Fair point. Still, you could try to lighten up a bit. It’s not all life and death.”
Yeosang turned to him, an unreadable expression on his face. “For you, maybe.”
Meanwhile, Wooyoung spotted Yeosang as he walked away from the stall. “Hey, doc!” he called out, jogging to catch up.
“What is it, Wooyoung?” Yeosang asked, his tone even.
Wooyoung waved a bright yellow fruit in front of him. “You think this could kill someone if I cook it wrong? Or should I give it to the captain and find out?”
Yeosang raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “It’s a mango, Wooyoung. Unless you’re planning to drop it on his head, I doubt it’ll harm anyone.”
Wooyoung grinned. “Good to know! Maybe I’ll add it to dinner tonight. Think the captain likes tropical flavors?”
“I think the captain has more pressing concerns than your culinary experiments,” Yeosang replied, though a small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he walked away.
In the distance, Hongjoong watched the exchanges with quiet amusement. Seonghwa, standing beside him, noticed his expression.
“Just as I thought they were behaving. They’re restless,” Seonghwa remarked.
Hongjoong nodded. “Let them stretch their legs. We’ll need them sharp soon enough.”
Seonghwa tilted his head. “And where does that leave us?”
Hongjoong’s gaze drifted toward the apothecary shop again. “For now? Let them play. But keep an eye on Yeosang. He always finds trouble where no one else is looking.”
Seonghwa chuckled. “That’s because he’s too clever for his own good.”
Hongjoong stood at the edge of the marketplace, his sharp gaze fixed on a small shop nestled between two larger buildings. The apothecary. It wasn’t his first visit, though his trips there were rare and purposeful. The shopkeeper had proven useful in the past, supplying him with everything he needed, no questions asked.
He turned to Wooyoung, who was busy juggling a few apples he’d “borrowed” from a stall.
“Wooyoung,” Hongjoong called, his voice firm.
Wooyoung caught the apples mid-air and grinned. “Yes, Captain? Need me to charm someone, or are we raiding the tavern early?”
Hongjoong smirked. “Neither. You’re coming with me to the apothecary. I need someone to carry what I buy.”
Wooyoung pouted dramatically, tossing one of the apples back into a basket. “What, I’m just your pack mule now?”
“Call it an extension of your scavenger duties,” Hongjoong replied, already heading toward the shop.
Wooyoung sighed, but his grin quickly returned as he jogged to catch up. “Fine, fine. But if they’ve got anything interesting, I’m keeping it.”
The bell above the door jingled as they stepped into the apothecary. The air inside was heavy with the earthy scent of dried herbs and freshly ground powders. Shelves lined every wall, filled with jars, bottles, and bundles of various remedies and ingredients.
YN stood behind the counter, her hands busy organizing a set of vials. She looked up at the sound of the bell and froze for a moment. It wasn’t every day the captain of the Halazia walked into her shop.
Hongjoong’s sharp eyes scanned the room before landing on her. He stepped forward, his coat swaying slightly. “You’re the pharmacist’s daughter,” he said, more a statement than a question.
YN straightened, her sunshine-like demeanor returning despite the intimidating presence before her. “That’s right. My father’s away, but I can help you. What do you need?”
Wooyoung leaned against the counter with a grin, glancing around the shop. “This place smells great. Got anything fun for a bored pirate like me?”
YN raised an eyebrow, but before she could reply, Hongjoong spoke. “Focus, Wooyoung.” He turned back to YN. “I need these.” He handed over a neatly folded piece of parchment with a list of items.
YN took it, her eyes scanning the list. Some of the ingredients were rare, but she recognized most of them. “I should have everything you need. Give me a moment.”
As YN moved around the shop, gathering items, Wooyoung leaned closer to Hongjoong and whispered, “She’s surprisingly cheerful for someone dealing with us.”
Hongjoong smirked but said nothing, his eyes following YN as she worked efficiently, placing jars and packets on the counter.
When she returned, she began explaining each item. “This powder needs to stay dry, and the tincture should be kept cool. And this—” she paused, holding up a small vial, “—is very potent. Use it sparingly.”
Hongjoong nodded, impressed by her knowledge. “You know your trade well.”
YN smiled warmly. “It’s my job.”
Once everything was packed, Wooyoung grabbed the bundle, pretending to stagger under its weight. “Oh no, Captain, it’s so heavy! What if I collapse under the strain?”
YN stifled a laugh, while Hongjoong rolled his eyes. “Stop complaining, or I’ll make you carry more.”
Just as Hongjoong and Wooyoung stepped toward the door, YN's curiosity got the better of her. She cleared her throat and asked, “What deal?”
As they turned to leave, Hongjoong paused at the door, glancing back at YN. “Tell your father our deal still stands. I’ll be back when I need more.”
Hongjoong stopped mid-step but didn’t turn around immediately. Wooyoung, on the other hand, raised an eyebrow and shot YN an amused look. “Curious, aren’t we?” he teased, leaning against the counter again.
Hongjoong slowly turned to face her, his expression unreadable but his eyes sharp. “Your father and I have... an understanding. He provides certain items I need, no questions asked. In return, I ensure that no harm ever comes to this shop or your family. A fair trade, wouldn’t you say?”
YN blinked, trying to process his words. “So, you’re protecting us? That’s what this is about?”
Hongjoong’s lips curved into a faint smirk. “You could say that. But don’t mistake it for charity. It’s business.”
Wooyoung chimed in, his tone light but with an edge of truth. “Think of it as an investment. The captain doesn’t waste time on things—or people—that aren’t worth it.”
YN frowned slightly, crossing her arms. “We don’t need protection. Seagrove is neutral ground.”
Hongjoong stepped closer, his voice dropping just enough to be serious but not threatening. “Neutrality doesn’t stop trouble from finding its way here. Pirates, mercenaries, kingdoms—they don’t care about rules when desperation strikes. Your father knows this. That’s why he agreed to our deal.”
YN held his gaze, feeling a mix of defiance and unease. She wanted to argue but couldn’t deny the truth in his words. “Fine,” she said, her voice steady. “But if this is about protection, it works both ways. You might find yourselves needing supplies when no one else will sell to you.”
Hongjoong’s smirk deepened, his eyes glinting with approval. “Smart girl. Your father taught you well.”
With that, he turned and pushed the door open. Wooyoung gave YN one last playful wink as he followed the captain. “See you around, sunshine,” he said before the door closed behind them, leaving YN standing there with a mixture of curiosity and newfound wariness.
She looked down at the counter where the parchment list lay. Her fingers brushed against it as her mind raced with questions. Whatever deal her father had struck with the Halazia crew, it was clear this wasn’t just a simple exchange of goods.
After the encounter at the apothecary, Wooyoung couldn’t help but find his thoughts drifting back to YN. There was something about her—a bright, carefree energy that contrasted so sharply with the rough, unpredictable life aboard the Halazia. Her genuine warmth had lingered in his mind longer than he expected, and before he realized it, he found himself making excuses to return to the shop.
A few days later, the bell above the apothecary’s door jingled again. YN looked up from where she was sorting herbs, her face lighting up when she saw Wooyoung standing there, leaning casually against the doorframe with his usual mischievous grin.
“You again,” she said, her tone teasing but friendly. “Didn’t you stock up enough last time?”
Wooyoung shrugged, stepping further inside. “Captain wanted to make sure we didn’t miss anything important. And, well...” He paused, picking up a small jar of dried lavender from a shelf and inspecting it idly. “I thought I’d keep you company. Can’t have you getting bored all alone in here.”
YN laughed, a bright, cheerful sound that filled the small shop. “Bored? Hardly. This place is always busy. Besides, I’m pretty sure pirates don’t come back just to check on someone.”
Wooyoung placed the jar back and leaned on the counter, his grin never fading. “Maybe not, but I’m not like most pirates.”
YN raised an eyebrow, her hands moving automatically as she arranged some vials. “Oh? So what makes you different, Mister Pirate?”
He smirked, resting his chin on his hand. “Well, for one, I appreciate good company. And two...” He trailed off, letting her fill in the rest.
Despite her initial resolve not to get too involved with the Halazia crew, YN found herself smiling. His playful energy was contagious, and she couldn’t help but be drawn into the banter. “You’re smooth, I’ll give you that,” she said, shaking her head.
Wooyoung chuckled. “Smooth enough to get a discount?”
She laughed again. “Not a chance.”
Over the next few weeks, Wooyoung started appearing more frequently. Sometimes he claimed he was running errands for the crew; other times, he didn’t even bother with an excuse. Each visit felt a little more natural, as though he was slipping into the rhythm of her world.
At first, YN kept her guard up. She reminded herself that he was a pirate, part of a crew that carried a reputation for chaos. But Wooyoung’s charm was disarming, and her naturally talkative, sunshine-like personality quickly overshadowed any hesitation.
He’d sit on a stool by the counter, chatting with her about everything and nothing. She’d tell him about the townsfolk, the busy days at the apothecary, and the little joys of living on Seagrove. In return, he’d share stories from the sea—some clearly exaggerated, others tinged with surprising honesty.
One day, as YN handed him a small satchel of herbs, she said with a grin, “You know, if I didn’t know better, I’d think you’re just here for the company.”
Wooyoung took the satchel, his smile softening. “Maybe I am. Got a problem with that?”
She shook her head, laughing. “Not really. Just don’t scare off my other customers, okay?”
Despite herself, YN found that Wooyoung’s presence didn’t feel like an intrusion. In fact, it felt oddly... comforting. And though Wooyoung never said it outright, he started looking forward to the quiet moments in the apothecary, away from the noise and chaos of life aboard the Halazia.
For now, neither of them thought too hard about what this strange, unexpected connection might mean. They simply enjoyed the moments they had, both of them quietly grateful for the fleeting peace they found in each other’s company.
Over time, Wooyoung became a regular sight in the apothecary. He would stroll in with his usual grin, plop himself onto the old wooden stool by the counter, and watch YN work.
At first, he was content just to chat, but as the days passed, he started offering to help.
“Here, let me do that,” he said one afternoon, stepping behind the counter and shooing YN away as she struggled with a particularly heavy crate of supplies.
She raised an eyebrow at him but stepped aside. “Are you sure you’re not just looking for an excuse to stick around?”
Wooyoung shot her a wink as he effortlessly lifted the crate onto a shelf. “What can I say? I’m a man of many talents.”
Soon enough, he became more than just a fixture in the shop. He started assisting her with customers, surprising her with how quickly he learned.
An older woman entered one day, asking for a salve for joint pain. Wooyoung, leaning casually on the counter, chimed in before YN could answet.
“Second shelf on the left,” he said, pointing. “Green jar with the brown lid. That’s the one you want.”
The woman looked at him, then at YN, who nodded in confirmation. “He’s right.”
The woman smiled and handed over her coins, muttering something about how “helpful young men” were hard to find.
After she left, YN crossed her arms and gave Wooyoung an appraising look. “You’re actually pretty good at this.”
He smirked. “Told you. Many talents.”
Not all of his interactions in the shop were so lighthearted, though. Occasionally, a customer would walk in with an attitude—someone trying to haggle too aggressively or speaking to YN with unnecessary harshness.
One such day, a burly man stormed in, slamming a few coins on the counter. “This isn’t enough,” he growled, pointing at a small pouch of medicine YN had just handed him. “You’re overcharging.”
YN opened her mouth to respond, but before she could, Wooyoung stood up from his stool and stepped forward, his usual playful demeanor replaced by something far more dangerous.
“She gave you the price,” Wooyoung said, his voice low and sharp. “Take it, or leave.”
The man turned to Wooyoung, clearly unimpressed. “And who do you think you are?”
Wooyoung’s grin returned, but this time it was anything but friendly. He leaned forward, his voice dropping even lower. “I’m someone you don’t want to mess with. Now, are you going to take the medicine and go, or should we make this... interesting?”
The man hesitated, clearly weighing his options. After a tense moment, he snatched the pouch from the counter and stormed out, muttering under his breath.
YN let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. “You didn’t have to do that,” she said softly.
Wooyoung shrugged, sitting back on the stool and spinning it lazily. “Nobody talks to you like that while I’m here. That’s a rule.”
YN smiled despite herself. “I don’t know whether to thank you or scold you for almost starting a fight in my shop.”
Wooyoung grinned. “Thank me, obviously.”
And she did, though she didn’t say it out loud.
With each passing day, Wooyoung’s presence in the shop felt more natural, like he belonged there. The townsfolk began to notice, too, casting curious glances when they saw the pirate helping YN arrange shelves or handing a bag of herbs to a customer. Some whispered about it, others just smiled knowingly.
And though YN had told herself not to get too involved with the crew of Halazia, she couldn’t deny that having Wooyoung around made her days a little brighter—and a lot more entertaining.
It was an ordinary evening aboard the Halazia when Seonghwa walked into the captain’s quarters, a folded letter in his hand. His expression was calm, but there was an edge of seriousness that made Hongjoong look up from the maps spread across his desk.
“What is it?” Hongjoong asked, leaning back in his chair.
Seonghwa handed him the letter without a word. As Hongjoong unfolded it, his sharp eyes scanned the neatly written words. It was from the pharmacist on Seagrove, a message laced with urgency.
“They’re coming back,” Hongjoong muttered, reading aloud. “The same goons who wanted his land before. He says they’re planning to create trouble, maybe worse. He’s asking us to protect his daughter while he’s away.”
Seonghwa crossed his arms, nodding. “It seems they’re waiting for the perfect moment, knowing the island has no real enforcement.”
Hongjoong leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers against the table. His mind worked quickly, weighing the situation. The pharmacist had been a valuable ally, and they owed him for the resources he’d provided in the past. Letting this go unanswered would be a stain on their reputation—and, truthfully, Hongjoong didn’t enjoy leaving favors unpaid.
He looked up at Seonghwa. “We can’t ignore this. We’ll need to send someone to keep an eye on her.”
Before Seonghwa could respond, the door swung open, and Wooyoung strolled in, as casual as ever. “Someone say watch over her?” he asked, leaning against the doorframe with a knowing grin.
Hongjoong arched an eyebrow at him. “Eavesdropping now, are we?”
“Not eavesdropping. Just walking by,” Wooyoung said innocently, though his smirk betrayed him. “So, what’s the plan? I’m assuming it involves our little sunshine at the apothecary.”
Seonghwa sighed. “It’s serious, Wooyoung. The pharmacist says trouble’s coming her way, and she’ll need protection while he’s gone. This isn’t just a casual errand.”
Wooyoung’s grin faltered slightly, his playful demeanor softening. “I know that. And that’s why I’m volunteering.”
Hongjoong studied him for a moment, noticing the uncharacteristic determination in his eyes. “You’re volunteering? That’s a first.”
Wooyoung shrugged, though there was no hiding the slight tension in his posture. “She’s a good person, Captain. She doesn’t deserve to deal with scum like that. Besides, I’ve been spending the most time with her. Makes sense for me to step in.”
Hongjoong exchanged a glance with Seonghwa, who gave a small nod. Finally, the captain leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Fine. You’ll handle it. But keep a low profile—no unnecessary fights unless it’s unavoidable. And if you need backup, you call for us immediately.”
Wooyoung grinned, his confidence returning in full force. “You got it, Captain. Don’t worry, I’ve got this.”
Later that evening, Wooyoung gathered a few essentials before heading toward the apothecary. As he walked through the dimly lit streets of Seagrove, his mind raced with thoughts of YN.
He didn’t know why, but the idea of something happening to her lit a fire in him that he couldn’t ignore. Maybe it was her kindness, her unshakable warmth, or the way she always smiled, even when dealing with stubborn customers. Whatever it was, he wasn’t about to let anyone take that away from her.
When he reached the shop, the bell jingled softly as he stepped inside. YN looked up from the counter, surprised to see him.
“Wooyoung? You’re back already?” she asked, a smile tugging at her lips.
He nodded, his usual playful grin softening into something more genuine. “Yeah. Looks like I’ll be sticking around for a while.”
Her brows furrowed slightly. “Why? What’s going on?”
Wooyoung hesitated for a moment before leaning against the counter, his voice gentle. “Your dad sent us a letter. Said some people might cause trouble while he’s gone. So... I’m here to make sure they don’t.”
The morning sun bathed Seagrove in a warm glow as YN stepped out of the apothecary with a basket in hand, ready to run her errands. She hummed softly to herself as she walked down the cobblestone streets, her mind focused on the list of things she needed.
But she wasn’t alone.
Though his footsteps were silent and his movements careful, YN could feel the weight of a gaze following her. She smirked to herself, pretending not to notice as she turned a corner, heading toward a quieter part of town.
When the street became deserted, she abruptly stopped and turned around, catching Wooyoung mid-step. He froze like a child caught sneaking sweets, his wide eyes meeting hers.
“So,” YN began, tilting her head and walking backward to keep her eyes on him. “You’re basically a bodyguard now?”
Wooyoung let out a small sigh, shaking his head as he caught up to her. “Careful, you’ll trip if you keep walking like that,” he said, his tone light but protective.
“I’m serious,” she pressed, ignoring his warning. “Isn’t this what bodyguards do? Follow people around, stay hidden, and swoop in dramatically when there’s trouble?”
Wooyoung chuckled, crossing his arms as he walked beside her. “Something like that. But I wouldn’t call myself a bodyguard. More like a... pirate with a purpose.”
YN laughed at that, the sound echoing through the quiet street. “A pirate with a purpose? That sounds so noble for someone like you.”
“Hey,” he said, feigning offense. “I’m plenty noble when I need to be. Like right now. I’m literally protecting you.”
“From what?” she asked, her voice full of innocent curiosity. “There’s no one around.”
Wooyoung glanced around, his eyes scanning the surroundings instinctively. “You’d be surprised. Trouble doesn’t announce itself, you know. One second everything’s fine, and the next... well, it’s not.”
YN stopped walking backward and faced him fully, her brow furrowed. “You really think something’s going to happen?”
Wooyoung’s expression softened, and he shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not. But your dad was worried enough to ask for help, and I’m not taking any chances.”
She blinked, surprised by the sincerity in his tone. For all his jokes and playful attitude, there was something reassuring about knowing he took her safety seriously.
“So... what do I call you now? Protector Wooyoung? Sir Wooyoung?” she teased, a playful glint in her eyes.
He rolled his eyes, though a smile tugged at his lips. “Just Wooyoung is fine, sunshine. Now, can we please focus on where you’re walking? If you trip, I’m not carrying you back.”
YN laughed again and turned to continue her errands, her steps lighter than before. Despite the strangeness of being followed, she couldn’t help but feel a small sense of comfort knowing that, no matter what, Wooyoung was there.
A few days passed without incident, though the air felt charged, as if something unseen was brewing. YN went about her routine with Wooyoung never far behind, always lurking in the background or perched casually on her shop’s stool, keeping watch.
But then, late one night aboard the Halazia, a lowly pirate messenger arrived with urgent news.
Hongjoong sat in his quarters with Seonghwa when the messenger was brought in. The scruffy man, clearly uneasy in the presence of the infamous captain, fumbled with his words but got the message across clearly:
“The goons you’ve been watchin’ out for... they’re plannin’ to hit the apothecary. Heard it straight from one of their lot.”
Hongjoong’s face darkened as he leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers. “When?”
“Soon,” the messenger replied. “Could be tonight, could be tomorrow. They’re waitin’ for the right moment.”
Hongjoong dismissed the man and turned to Seonghwa, who stood silently by his side. “We can’t risk it,” the captain said. “The girl’s too vulnerable in the shop. Wooyoung needs to bring her here—now.”
Seonghwa nodded. “I’ll send the word.”
At the apothecary, YN was cleaning up for the night when Wooyoung walked in, his expression unusually serious.
She glanced up at him and immediately noticed the shift in his demeanor. “What’s wrong?” she asked, setting down the jar she was holding.
“We need to leave,” Wooyoung said, his voice firm but calm.
Her brow furrowed. “Leave? Why? What’s going on?”
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “The goons your dad was worried about... they’re planning to attack the shop. Captain’s orders are to get you to the ship where you’ll be safe.”
YN’s eyes widened. “The ship? Halazia? You can’t be serious.”
“I’m dead serious,” Wooyoung said, stepping closer. “It’s not safe here, YN. I can protect you better if you’re with us.”
She hesitated, looking around the shop she’d grown up in. “But... what about the store? What about my father’s work?”
Wooyoung softened, placing a hand on her shoulder. “We’ll make sure nothing happens to it. But right now, you’re what matters. We can’t replace you, sunshine.”
Her heart skipped at the unexpected tenderness in his words, but the gravity of the situation quickly pulled her back. She nodded, her resolve hardening.
“Alright,” she said, her voice steady despite the fear creeping in. “Let me grab a few things.”
Wooyoung watched as YN quickly packed a small bag with essentials—some clothes, a few jars of medicine, and a small book she seemed hesitant to leave behind.
As they stepped out into the cool night, Wooyoung’s eyes scanned their surroundings, his hand resting on the hilt of his dagger. The streets were quiet, but he knew better than to trust the stillness.
“Stay close,” he whispered, his voice low but firm.
YN nodded, clutching her bag tightly as they made their way through the town toward the docks.
The journey felt longer than it should have, every shadow and faint sound putting them both on edge. But eventually, the silhouette of the Halazia came into view, its sails swaying gently in the night breeze.
As they approached the gangplank, Wooyoung turned to YN, his usual grin making a rare appearance despite the tension. “Welcome to the Halazia, sunshine. You’re about to meet the best—and most chaotic—crew in the seven seas.”
As soon as YN stepped onto the deck of the Halazia, she froze, her wide eyes taking in the sheer majesty of the pirate ship. The towering masts, the intricate ropes, and the faint smell of saltwater mixed with wood—it all felt surreal, like she’d stumbled into one of her dreams.
Her fear of ships and the open sea had always held her back from venturing onto one, but now, standing here, it felt like that fear had melted away, replaced by pure wonder.
“This is... amazing,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the gentle creaking of the ship.
Wooyoung, who had been following her with her bag slung over his shoulder, smirked as he watched her light up like a child discovering a new world. “You act like you’ve never seen a ship before,” he teased, though his tone was soft.
“I haven’t,” YN admitted, turning to him with an excited grin. “Not like this! I mean, I’ve seen them from the shore, but actually being on one? It’s completely different!”
She wandered across the deck, her fingers brushing against the railings and ropes, her eyes darting to every detail—the cannons lined up neatly, the sturdy wheel, and the faint reflection of the moonlight on the water below.
“This is incredible,” she said again, more to herself than to Wooyoung. “I never thought I’d actually step foot on a ship.”
Wooyoung chuckled as he trailed behind her, carrying her things without complaint. “Well, you’re lucky this isn’t just any ship. You’re standing on the Halazia, the finest vessel on the seas.”
YN turned to him, her eyes sparkling. “The finest, huh? You don’t seem very humble about it.”
“Why should I be?” he said with a grin, leaning casually against a mast. “The Halazia deserves to be shown off. Just like me.”
YN rolled her eyes but couldn’t help laughing. She turned her attention back to the ship, climbing a few steps to the raised quarterdeck and looking out over the bow. The gentle rocking of the ship made her heart race, but it wasn’t fear—it was exhilaration.
“You look like a kid in a candy shop,” Wooyoung said, his voice carrying a mix of amusement and fondness as he watched her.
She spun around, leaning against the railing with a bright smile. “I feel like one. This is so much better than I imagined.”
Wooyoung’s smirk softened into something more genuine as he watched her. He wasn’t sure what it was about her—maybe the way her excitement was so contagious, or the way her wide eyes seemed to find magic in everything—but seeing her like this made him forget, even for a moment, the dangers that had brought her here.
“Alright, sunshine,” he said, breaking the moment. “As much as I’d love to let you explore all night, you’ll need some rest. The captain will want to speak with you in the morning.”
YN nodded, reluctantly tearing herself away from the view. “Okay, fine. But I’m not done exploring. You’ll have to show me everything tomorrow.”
Wooyoung laughed. “Deal. But for now, let me show you where you’ll be sleeping. Come on.”
He led her below deck, still carrying her things as she followed him with the same wide-eyed wonder. And though the weight of what lay ahead lingered in the back of his mind, Wooyoung found himself smiling, content in the moment.
When Wooyoung led YN to a small cabin below deck, she stepped inside and immediately felt the silence pressing in around her. The cozy space was nothing like her home, with its small wooden bed, a lantern casting soft light, and the faint creaking of the ship filling the air.
“Here you go,” Wooyoung said, setting her bag down by the bed. “It’s not much, but it’s cozy enough. You’ll be safe here.”
YN nodded, clutching her arms tightly. “Yeah… it’s nice.” But her voice wavered slightly, betraying her unease.
Wooyoung raised an eyebrow, noticing the way her eyes darted around the room and how she hesitated to step further in. “Something wrong?” he asked, leaning casually against the doorframe.
She shook her head quickly, forcing a smile. “No, no, it’s fine. I’m just… not used to being alone, that’s all.”
His smirk faded as he studied her. “You’re scared, aren’t you?”
Her shoulders slumped, and she let out a small sigh. “A little. Back home, I always stayed with my aunt when my dad wasn’t around. I’ve never really been by myself at night. It’s… it’s just something I’m not used to.”
Wooyoung frowned, leaning in the doorway with his arms crossed. He could see the fear in her eyes, the way she fidgeted nervously. It wasn’t something he was used to—seeing someone so openly vulnerable. Most people tried to hide their fears around pirates, but YN was an open book.
“You know,” he started, his voice softening, “I could always stick around for a bit. Keep you company until you fall asleep. That way, you’re not completely alone.”
YN’s eyes widened. “You’d do that?”
“Of course,” he said with a shrug, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “I’m your bodyguard, remember? Can’t let anything happen to you, even if it’s just a bad dream.”
A small smile tugged at her lips, and she nodded. “Okay. Just until I fall asleep.”
Wooyoung pulled a chair over and sat down near the bed, leaning back comfortably as YN hesitantly climbed under the blankets.
For a while, the only sound was the gentle creak of the ship and the distant crash of waves. YN lay on her side, her gaze fixed on Wooyoung, who seemed completely at ease, his legs stretched out and arms crossed behind his head.
“You’re really not going to leave, are you?” she asked quietly.
“Not until you’re out like a light,” he replied with a grin.
She chuckled softly, the sound easing some of the tension in the room. “Thank you, Wooyoung.”
“Anytime, sunshine,” he said, his voice dropping to a soothing tone.
Slowly, her eyes began to droop, the sound of the ship and the comforting presence of Wooyoung lulling her into a sense of safety she hadn’t expected to feel. And true to his word, he stayed right there, watching over her until her breathing evened out and she drifted into sleep.
The next morning, Wooyoung leaned against the doorframe of YN’s cabin, watching her stretch and yawn as she woke up. Her face was lit with the same cheerful glow he’d come to recognize, her fear from the night before seemingly forgotten.
“Morning, sunshine,” he greeted with a teasing grin. “Sleep well?”
YN sat up, her hair slightly messy, and nodded enthusiastically. “Like a baby. I guess ships aren’t so scary after all!”
He smirked, stepping aside to let her step out. “Told you you’d be fine. Now come on, let’s get some food. The others are already up.”
As they walked toward the breakfast hall, YN’s natural curiosity bubbled over. “So… aren’t you ever scared the ship’s going to sink?” she asked, tilting her head.
Wooyoung snorted, looking at her like she’d just said the most ridiculous thing. “Scared? Me? Sunshine, this ship is sturdier than a fortress. She’s not going anywhere.”
“But what if a giant wave crashes over it?” she asked, her eyes wide with imagined catastrophe.
“Then we ride the wave,” he answered smugly.
She hummed thoughtfully before hitting him with another question. “What if a whale bumps into it? Wouldn’t that cause trouble?”
He gave her an incredulous look. “A whale? Do you think whales just swim around bumping into ships for fun?”
She giggled, shrugging. “I don’t know! Maybe they’re curious.”
Wooyoung rolled his eyes, but the fond smile tugging at his lips gave him away. “Alright, sunshine, what’s next? Got any more doomsday scenarios for me?”
“Many. What about sharks? Aren’t you worried they’ll try to bite through the hull?”
Wooyoung stopped walking, staring at her for a moment before bursting into laughter. “Sharks, YN? Biting through the hull? What kind of stories has your dad been telling you?”
She shrugged with a playful pout. “I don’t know! I just thought… maybe it could happen!”
He shook his head, still grinning as they resumed walking. “I promise you, sharks don’t want to eat wood. You’re safe.”
“What about storms?” she asked next, her voice full of innocent curiosity. “Have you ever been caught in one? Like, a huge one that flips the ship upside down?”
Wooyoung gave her an exaggeratedly serious look. “Oh, sure, all the time. And we just flip her back over and keep sailing.”
YN gasped. “Really?!”
He laughed, ruffling her hair as they walked. “No, sunshine, not really. But we’ve weathered storms before. This ship’s been through it all.”
As they reached the breakfast hall, YN slowed down, looking up at him. “One more question,” she said, her tone quieter but still curious.
“Shoot,” he replied.
“Have you ever been scared on this ship?”
For a moment, Wooyoung paused, his grin fading into something softer. “Maybe once or twice,” he admitted. “But not because of the ship. Because of what might happen to the people on it.”
YN blinked, surprised by his honest answer, but before she could ask more, Wooyoung opened the door to the hall with a dramatic flourish.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” he announced loudly, “the sunshine of the seas has arrived!”
As YN stepped into the breakfast hall, the chatter of the crew quieted, and all eyes turned toward her. Though most of their expressions were neutral or curious, the sheer presence of eight men in one room felt overwhelming. She froze for a moment, clutching Wooyoung’s shirt from behind like a lifeline.
Wooyoung glanced over his shoulder, noticing how she shrank behind him. He let out a soft laugh but didn’t comment, allowing her to use him as a shield.
“Don’t be shy,” he teased lightly, his tone warm. “They don’t bite. Well… maybe San does, but only if you get on his bad side.”
“Hey!” San called from across the room, earning a chuckle from the others.
Hongjoong, seated at the head of the table, gave her a reassuring smile. “Good morning, YN. Don’t let them intimidate you. They’re loud, but they’re harmless.”
She nodded shyly but didn’t let go of Wooyoung’s shirt. The rest of the crew exchanged glances, some amused, some curious.
“Alright, alright,” Wooyoung said, clapping his hands to break the awkward silence. “Let’s get the introductions out of the way so sunshine here can relax.”
He stepped aside, gently nudging YN forward, though she still kept close to him.
Hongjoong stood first, his presence commanding yet calm. “I’m Hongjoong, the captain of this ship. You’ll be safe here, YN. If there’s anything you need, let me know.”
Next was Seonghwa, who gave her a polite nod. “Seonghwa, the quartermaster and first mate. Welcome aboard.”
Yunho, the navigator, grinned warmly. “I’m Yunho. I make sure we don’t get lost. Nice to meet you, YN!”
Yeosang, the quiet surgeon, gave her a small smile. “Yeosang. If you ever get hurt, come to me.”
San leaned back in his chair, flashing a mischievous grin. “San, the battle master. Don’t worry, I only bite if provoked.”
Mingi, the boatswain, waved enthusiastically. “Mingi! I keep the ship in shape. You’re gonna love it here!”
Wooyoung gave her a playful nudge. “And you already know me, your personal bodyguard and scavenger extraordinaire.”
Finally, Jongho, the master gunner, nodded firmly. “Jongho. I handle the cannons. Welcome to the Halazia.”
The introductions helped ease her nerves, and soon enough, the crew’s warm smiles and lighthearted jokes began to make her feel more comfortable.
“Thank you,” she said softly, glancing around at the group. “It’s nice to meet all of you.”
“Now that we’ve got that out of the way,” Wooyoung said, guiding her to a seat at the table, “let’s eat. Sunshine needs to keep her energy up, after all.”
As the crew returned to their meals, YN slowly started to join the conversation, her natural warmth and curiosity shining through. By the end of breakfast, she wasn’t hiding behind Wooyoung anymore—instead, she was laughing along with the rest of the crew, feeling like she might actually belong.
After breakfast, Wooyoung led YN back out onto the deck. The crew had dispersed to their duties, leaving the ship relatively quiet. He decided it was the perfect time to give her a small tour—not of the whole ship, but just the places he knew she’d actually need.
“Alright, sunshine,” Wooyoung said, walking ahead of her with a slight bounce in his step. “Since you’ll be with us for a while, you should know your way around—at least enough so you don’t get lost.”
YN’s eyes sparkled with excitement, her earlier shyness completely replaced by her usual sunshine-like demeanor. “Okay! Show me everything!”
“Not everything,” he corrected with a chuckle. “Just the essentials. Come on.”
He started with the main deck, pointing out where the crew stored extra supplies and how to tell which ropes were safe to touch—“Don’t go pulling random ones unless you want to drop a sail on your head,” he teased.
YN followed closely, hanging on to every word he said, her excitement growing with every little thing he explained. She’d occasionally gasp or ask a question, her enthusiasm contagious.
“This is where the weapons are stored,” Wooyoung said, gesturing to a small hatch near the mast. “But you probably don’t need to mess with that. Leave the fighting to us.”
“Noted,” YN said with a grin. “No weapons for me. I’ll stick to not breaking anything.”
They moved below deck next, where Wooyoung showed her the mess hall, the kitchen (“Wooyoung’s kingdom,” as he called it), and a few storage rooms.
When they reached the small infirmary, YN gasped. “Oh, it’s so organized!”
“Yeosang keeps it that way,” Wooyoung said with a shrug. “Don’t mess with his stuff, though. He’ll know.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” she said, her eyes wide as she peeked inside.
Finally, Wooyoung led her back up to the quarterdeck, where the ship’s wheel stood. YN looked out over the vast ocean, the sun sparkling on the water like diamonds. Her grin grew even wider, and she spun around to face him, her hands outstretched.
“This is amazing, Wooyoung! I’ve never seen anything like it. It’s like a whole new world!”
Wooyoung leaned against the railing, watching her with a soft smile. Her joy was so genuine, so unfiltered, that it tugged at something deep in his chest. He’d spent years on this ship, but he’d never seen it through someone else’s eyes like this.
“Glad you like it,” he said, his voice quieter than usual.
YN turned back to the ocean, leaning against the railing as the wind played with her hair. “I can’t believe I was scared of this. It’s beautiful.”
Wooyoung found himself staring, his heart doing something strange—something he didn’t quite understand. He’d been around plenty of people, but there was something about YN’s presence that felt… different.
Shaking off the thought, he smirked and nudged her lightly. “Well, sunshine, you’re part of it now. Welcome to the Halazia.”
She looked up at him with a radiant smile. “Thanks, Wooyoung. I think I’m going to like it here.”
He didn’t say anything, but as they stood there, watching the endless expanse of ocean together, he couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, he was starting to like it even more now too.
As they leaned against the railing, watching the endless stretch of blue, YN broke the comfortable silence with a quiet question.
“Are you scared of the ocean?”
Wooyoung glanced at her, slightly taken aback. “Why do you ask?”
She shrugged, her fingers lightly tracing the wood of the railing. “It’s just… it’s so big. And unknown. You don’t really know what’s down there. I’m scared of it. Always have been.”
Wooyoung’s gaze softened as he watched her. For all her bright and cheerful energy, there was a vulnerability in her words that struck him.
“I’m not scared of it,” he said after a moment. “But I get why someone might be.”
YN turned to look at him, her eyes searching his face. “You don’t think about it? How deep it goes? How it could just… swallow you up?”
Wooyoung chuckled softly, leaning his elbows on the railing. “I guess I’ve been around it so long, I don’t think about it that way anymore. The ocean’s unpredictable, sure, but it’s also… home. It’s dangerous, yeah, but it’s beautiful too.”
“Beautiful and dangerous,” she echoed, looking back at the waves. “I guess that makes sense.”
He glanced at her, his tone softening. “But it’s okay to be scared of it, you know. Everyone’s scared of something. The important thing is not letting it stop you from living.”
YN nodded slowly, his words sinking in. “I guess that’s why you’re here, huh? To make sure I don’t let my fear stop me?”
Wooyoung smirked, his usual teasing tone returning. “Exactly. Think of me as your very own fearless tour guide of the seas.”
She laughed, the sound light and free, and for a moment, her fear seemed to fade. “Thanks, Wooyoung. You’re not as scary as you pretend to be.”
“Don’t let the others hear you say that,” he said with a wink. “I have a reputation to maintain.”
YN smiled, her earlier worry replaced by warmth. Maybe the ocean was still scary, but with someone like Wooyoung by her side, it didn’t feel quite so overwhelming.
As the day passed, Wooyoung found himself growing increasingly aware of YN’s presence. Whether it was her soft laughter when she found something amusing, the way she tilted her head with curiosity at every little thing he showed her, or even the quiet moments when she was simply taking in the ship’s vastness—he couldn’t help but feel something stirring within him.
It wasn’t just her cheerfulness that got to him. It was the way she spoke with an honesty that seemed so rare, the way she made everything feel a little brighter, even in the vastness of the open sea.
At one point, YN was sitting on a crate near the mast, her feet swinging lightly as she hummed to herself. Wooyoung had been organizing some ropes nearby, but his hands slowed as he glanced over at her. She was just sitting there, doing nothing in particular, and yet he found himself staring.
What is wrong with me? he thought, shaking his head.
“Wooyoung?” her voice cut through his thoughts, and he turned to see her looking at him with her usual wide-eyed curiosity.
“Yeah?” he asked, quickly snapping out of his daze.
“Why are you staring at me?” she asked bluntly, tilting her head.
He blinked, caught off guard. “I wasn’t staring.”
She gave him a look that clearly said she didn’t believe him. “You totally were. Do I have something on my face?”
“No!” he said quickly, waving his hands. “I was just… lost in thought.”
“About what?”
“Stuff,” he replied vaguely, avoiding her gaze as he returned to the ropes.
She frowned a little but didn’t press him further. Instead, she hopped off the crate and walked over to him, standing by his side. “You’re weird,” she said with a laugh, nudging him lightly.
“Thanks, sunshine,” he muttered, though there was no bite in his tone.
As the day wore on, Wooyoung couldn’t shake the strange feeling. It wasn’t a bad feeling—just… unfamiliar. He found himself smiling more than usual, his mind wandering whenever she was near.
By the time the sun began to set, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, Wooyoung was leaning against the railing, watching YN as she marveled at the view.
She turned to him, her face lit up with excitement. “Is it always this beautiful?”
He nodded slowly, though his eyes weren’t on the horizon—they were on her. “Yeah,” he said softly, his voice barely audible. “It is.”
And for the first time in a long while, Wooyoung found himself wondering if the ocean was truly the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
A few weeks had passed since YN stepped onto the Halazia, and in that time, the ship had somehow begun to feel like home to her. She leapt around the deck with her usual cheerful energy, helping wherever she could, whether it was Wooyoung in the kitchen, Yeosang in the infirmary, or even Seonghwa and Hongjoong with their work.
“Hold this for me, YN,” Seonghwa said one afternoon as he handed her a map while he adjusted the compass in his hand.
“Like this?” she asked, holding it up as if she were presenting a prized treasure.
Seonghwa chuckled. “Perfect.”
When she wasn’t assisting Seonghwa, she was often seen pestering Yeosang in the infirmary, her endless questions making him both amused and slightly exasperated.
“What does this do?” YN asked, pointing to a jar of some strange salve.
“It’s for burns,” Yeosang replied patiently, though he didn’t miss the way she scrunched her nose at the smell.
“That smells awful!” she exclaimed.
“It’s medicine,” Yeosang said with a small smile. “Not everything can smell like roses.”
She laughed and quickly moved on to the next question, her curiosity never-ending.
And then, of course, there was Wooyoung.
She spent the most time with him, naturally. Whether it was helping him in the kitchen or following him around during his scavenger tasks, she was always by his side, her bright personality lighting up even the dullest moments.
But for Wooyoung, those weeks had been… confusing.
The strange feeling he had whenever he looked at her had only grown stronger. It was there in the way his heart would skip when she laughed, or the way he’d find himself looking for her whenever she wasn’t around.
“Wooyoung!” YN called out one morning, snapping him out of his thoughts.
“Yeah?” he asked, turning to see her balancing on the railing, arms stretched out for balance.
“Look! I’m not scared anymore!” she said, beaming.
“Get down before you fall!” he scolded, rushing over to steady her.
She laughed, hopping down with ease. But not without Wooyoung holding onto her. “I wouldn’t have fallen. You’d catch me anyway, right?”
Wooyoung sighed, shaking his head, though there was a small smile on his lips. “You’re impossible.”
“And you’re grumpy,” she shot back with a grin, poking his arm.
He rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the warmth that spread through him. She had that effect on everyone, he realized—not just him. She had somehow charmed the entire crew, even the usually reserved Yeosang and the ever-serious Seonghwa.
But for Wooyoung, it was different. The way he felt when she was near wasn’t just fondness or friendship. It was something more, something that made his chest tighten and his heart race.
And as he watched her skip off to bother Hongjoong about something, laughing and smiling as if the world was nothing but sunshine, Wooyoung realized he was in trouble.
Big trouble.
That night, like every other, YN was tucked into the small bed they’d arranged for her in one of the crew’s spare quarters. Wooyoung sat on the floor near the door, leaning back against the wooden wall, his legs stretched out comfortably. It had become their nightly routine—talking about anything and everything before she drifted off to sleep.
“Wooyoung,” she started, her voice soft and a little drowsy already, “why do you like being a pirate? Isn’t it scary, always running into danger?”
He chuckled, resting his head against the wall. “Nah. It’s what I’m good at. And besides, it’s exciting. Who doesn’t like a bit of adventure?”
She smiled faintly, her eyelids heavy but still determined to stay in the conversation. “I think it’s cool… but I’d be too scared to fight. I’d probably just hide behind you.”
“You already do that,” he teased with a grin.
“True,” she murmured with a sleepy laugh. “You’re good at making me feel safe, though.”
His heart clenched a little at her words, but he kept his tone light. “Of course I do. That’s my job, sunshine.”
For a while, they continued their usual back-and-forth, her words growing slower and quieter with each passing minute. Wooyoung found himself doing most of the talking, filling the silence as she nodded off.
Then, mid-sentence, he heard her breathing even out. He paused, looking over at her. She had fallen asleep while he was talking, her head resting on the pillow, her face peaceful and relaxed.
A soft smile spread across his lips as he watched her, the moonlight filtering through the small window casting a gentle glow on her features.
“She’s cute,” he muttered to himself before he could stop the thought.
It hit him then, like it had been building up for weeks and finally clicked into place—he was falling for her. Hard.
But Wooyoung knew one thing for sure: even if it was love, he wasn’t going to say anything. She was his friend, his sunshine in an otherwise stormy world, and the last thing he wanted was to burden her with his feelings. She had enough to worry about, and he wasn’t about to make things harder for her.
Instead, he sighed quietly, leaning his head back against the wall as he closed his eyes. If staying silent meant she could keep smiling and talking his ear off every night, then he’d take that. For now, just being close to her was enough.
Wooyoung stood up quietly, ready to leave her room and let her sleep peacefully like every other night. But as he turned to glance back at her one last time, something caught his eye.
Her blanket had slipped down, revealing her arms—usually hidden under long sleeves. He moved closer, intending to fix the blanket like he always did, making sure she was comfortable.
But then he saw it.
His breath hitched as his eyes fell on her wrists, faintly illuminated by the pale moonlight. There were marks and scars, some faint and others deeper, etched into her skin like silent memories of pain.
Wooyoung froze, his heart tightening painfully in his chest.
No… he thought, his mind racing. She’s always smiling. Always happy.
He couldn’t reconcile the sunshine YN he knew—the one who laughed at his jokes, who skipped around the ship with boundless energy, who asked him silly questions every day—with the person who bore these scars.
For a long moment, he just stood there, staring at her sleeping form. She looked so peaceful, so innocent, and yet those scars told a story he didn’t know—a story she had never shared with him.
He clenched his fists, a wave of emotions crashing over him. Anger, sadness, confusion. How could someone as bright as her carry so much pain? And why hadn’t she told anyone?
Wooyoung gently pulled the blanket back up, covering her arms again. His hand hovered for a moment before he stepped back, his movements slow and deliberate as if he might wake her.
He sat back down on the floor, his back against the wall, his thoughts a chaotic mess. He replayed every interaction they’d had, every laugh, every smile. Had he missed the signs? Had she been hiding this from everyone the whole time?
And yet, despite the questions and the pain in his chest, one thought rang louder than the rest.
I’ll protect her.
Whatever she had been through, whatever had caused those scars, Wooyoung silently vowed that she would never have to feel that kind of pain again. Not as long as he was around.
The morning came with the usual rhythm of life on the Halazia. The crew went about their tasks, the sounds of footsteps and distant laughter filling the ship. YN, as always, was a ball of energy. She skipped onto the deck, her bright smile lighting up the day as she greeted everyone she saw.
“Good morning, Wooyoung!” she called, waving cheerfully as she spotted him leaning against the railing.
He smiled back, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. Something had shifted within him since last night, and even though YN seemed like her usual, bubbly self, he couldn’t stop the protectiveness that now gnawed at his chest.
As she wandered off to help Yeosang in the infirmary, Wooyoung found himself watching her closely, more vigilant than ever. His heart felt heavier, knowing the scars she carried beneath her sunshine exterior. He couldn’t let this eat him up inside—it was too much.
Without thinking too much about it, he made his way to the captain’s quarters.
Hongjoong was seated at his desk, a map spread out before him as he carefully marked their next route. He glanced up when Wooyoung knocked and motioned for him to enter.
“What is it?” Hongjoong asked, leaning back in his chair as he crossed his arms.
Wooyoung hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to put his swirling thoughts into words. But this was Hongjoong—his captain, his guide, his second guardian. If there was anyone he could trust, it was him.
“It’s about YN,” Wooyoung began, closing the door behind him.
Hongjoong’s brow furrowed slightly. “What about her? Is she alright?”
“She is,” Wooyoung said quickly. “At least… I think she is. But…” He trailed off, running a hand through his hair.
“But what?” Hongjoong pressed, his tone serious now.
Wooyoung took a deep breath and looked down at the floor. “Last night, I… I saw something. She always wears long sleeves, and I never thought much of it, but her blanket slipped, and I saw her wrists.”
Hongjoong didn’t say anything, but the sharpness in his eyes told Wooyoung to continue.
“They’re scared,” Wooyoung said quietly. “Like… she’s been through something. Something bad. And she’s always smiling, always acting like she’s fine, but I don’t think she is, Captain. I don’t think she ever was.”
Hongjoong leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk as he processed Wooyoung’s words. “And you’re telling me this because…?”
“Because I don’t know what to do,” Wooyoung admitted, his voice almost breaking. “I want to protect her, but I don’t know if I’m doing enough. I don’t want her to feel like she’s alone. And—” He hesitated, swallowing hard before continuing. “I care about her, Captain. More than I probably should.”
For a moment, the room was silent, the weight of Wooyoung’s words hanging in the air.
Hongjoong studied him carefully, his expression unreadable. Then he sighed, leaning back in his chair. “Wooyoung, you’ve always been someone who cares deeply about the people around you. That’s one of your strengths. But you need to tread carefully here.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean,” Hongjoong said slowly, “that YN isn’t just anyone. She’s someone who’s clearly been hurt before, and if you push too hard or too fast, you might end up hurting her even more.”
Wooyoung nodded, his fists clenching at his sides. “I’d never hurt her.”
“I know you wouldn’t,” Hongjoong said, his tone softening. “But she might not be ready to talk about whatever’s happened to her. You have to be patient. Be there for her, but let her come to you when she’s ready.”
Wooyoung exhaled shakily, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. “I just… I hate the thought of her suffering alone.”
Hongjoong gave him a small, understanding smile. “You’re doing more for her than you realize, Wooyoung. Just keep being her friend, her safe place. That’s what she needs most right now.”
Wooyoung nodded again, his resolve strengthening. “Thank you, Captain.”
As he left the room, Wooyoung felt a little lighter, though his heart still ached for YN. He would take Hongjoong’s advice to heart. He would wait, be patient, and let her set the pace. But in the meantime, he’d keep being the one thing she could always count on: her protector, her friend, and her silent guardian.
Wooyoung stepped out onto the deck, the salty breeze ruffling his hair as his eyes scanned for YN. He spotted her near the railing with San and Jongho, her arms waving animatedly as she spoke. The two men stood there, half-amused, half-bewildered, listening to whatever silly tangent she was on this time.
“Wait, wait, let me get this straight,” San said, holding up a hand to stop her. “You’re asking me if a sword can cut through a cannonball?”
“Yeah!” YN exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. “I mean, they’re both metal, right? So if you hit it hard enough…”
San burst into laughter, clutching his stomach. “You’ve been reading too many stories, kid.”
Jongho, who had been leaning against the railing, shook his head but couldn’t hide the faint smirk tugging at his lips. “Even the sharpest blade would shatter before it cut through solid iron.”
“Aw,” YN pouted, crossing her arms. “I thought pirates could do anything!”
San laughed harder, wiping a tear from his eye. “We’re not magicians, sunshine.”
Wooyoung stood off to the side, watching the scene unfold. A warm smile crept onto his face as he saw how easily YN interacted with them now. When she’d first come aboard, she’d been hesitant, hiding behind him whenever the others were around. But now, here she was, chatting away with San and Jongho like they’d known each other forever.
It felt good to see her like this—happy, carefree, and finally warming up to the crew.
“You’re really curious about everything, aren’t you?” Jongho said, his deep voice carrying a hint of amusement.
“Of course!” YN said brightly. “I’ve never been on a ship before, so I want to learn as much as I can. Like… do you guys ever get scared of storms? Or, oh! What happens if someone falls overboard? Do you just throw them a rope, or—”
“Whoa, slow down,” San said, holding up his hands. “One question at a time, sunshine!”
Wooyoung chuckled softly as he approached them, leaning casually against the mast. “Looks like you’ve been keeping my brothers busy.”
YN turned to him with a beaming smile. “Wooyoung! Did you know San once fought off five guys by himself?”
San puffed out his chest, clearly enjoying the attention. “It was six, actually.”
“Here we go,” Jongho muttered under his breath, rolling his eyes.
Wooyoung laughed, shaking his head. “Don’t let him fool you, YN. He probably tripped over a barrel and took them all down by accident.”
“Hey!” San protested, but YN was already giggling, her laughter light and infectious.
As they continued talking, Wooyoung couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride. She wasn’t just his sunshine anymore—she was becoming theirs, too. And that made him happier than he could put into words.
The gentle sound of the waves lapping against the ship provided a soothing background as Wooyoung and YN sat on the deck. The sun was beginning to set, casting the sky in shades of orange and pink. YN was carefully folding a piece of parchment, her tongue poking out slightly in concentration as she tried to perfect the origami bird Mingi had taught her.
Wooyoung watched her with a soft smile, his elbow resting on his knee as he sat cross-legged beside her. He loved seeing her like this—calm, happy, and free to express herself.
“Wooyoung,” she suddenly said, looking up at him with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Let’s play a game.”
“A game?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Yes! It’s simple. One person asks a question, and the other has to answer truthfully. No skipping. Deal?” She held out her pinky finger, a playful smile tugging at her lips.
Wooyoung chuckled and linked his pinky with hers. “Deal.”
The game started innocently enough, with lighthearted questions that made them both laugh.
“What’s the most embarrassing thing you’ve ever done?” she asked.
“Once, I fell off the ship during training and blamed it on a loose rope,” Wooyoung admitted, grinning sheepishly.
She burst into laughter, nearly dropping her origami. “You didn’t!”
“I did. Yunho still hasn’t let me live it down,” he said, shaking his head.
When it was Wooyoung’s turn, he asked, “What’s your favorite food?”
“Anything sweet,” she answered easily. “The sweeter, the better!”
The game continued, each question becoming a little more personal, a little more revealing. Wooyoung learned that YN’s favorite color was blue because it reminded her of the ocean and that she used to dream of being an adventurer before life tied her to the store.
Then, as the playful banter lulled, Wooyoung asked the question that had been weighing on his heart.
“Where are the scars from?”
As soon as the question left Wooyoung’s mouth, YN froze, her body stiffening as if all the air had been sucked out of the room.
“W-what?” she stammered, her voice shaky, eyes darting to her hands in panic.
“Your wrist,” Wooyoung said, his voice softer this time but unwavering. “I saw the scars. Tell me what happened.”
Her heart raced, her palms growing clammy as she clutched the half-folded paper bird. She couldn’t face him, couldn’t answer the question. Without another word, YN shot up from her spot and darted away, her footsteps echoing across the deck.
“YN!” Wooyoung called after her, but she didn’t stop.
She didn’t know where she was going, her mind clouded with panic, but her feet carried her to Seonghwa’s quarters. She knocked quickly before opening the door, her chest heaving as she stepped inside.
Seonghwa was seated at his desk, a book in his hands, but he looked up at her abrupt entrance. He immediately noticed her pacing back and forth, her hands trembling as she fidgeted with the sleeves of her shirt.
“YN,” Seonghwa called gently, setting the book down and standing up. “What’s wrong?”
“I—” she started, but the words caught in her throat. She stopped pacing and turned to him, her eyes wide and glassy with unshed tears.
“YN,” he said again, walking over to her slowly, his voice calm and reassuring. “Breathe. Tell me what’s going on.”
“I…” She hesitated, her mind racing. She couldn’t tell him about her wrists, couldn’t tell him about the scars, but she didn’t know how to explain the storm of emotions swirling inside her.
Seonghwa waited patiently, his arms crossed but his gaze kind. When her bottom lip quivered and her eyes spilled over with tears, he stepped closer and placed a steady hand on her shoulder.
“Whatever it is, you don’t have to carry it alone,” he said softly. “You can tell me, YN.”
Her shoulders shook as she wiped at her eyes with the back of her sleeve, trying to compose herself. “It’s just… it’s too much,” she finally whispered.
“Too much?” he prompted, his voice careful, coaxing.
She nodded, her voice trembling. “I—I don’t know how to explain it. Everything’s just… overwhelming.”
Seonghwa nodded in understanding, guiding her to sit on the edge of his bed. “Take your time,” he said, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket and handing it to her.
She clutched the fabric tightly, sniffling as she stared at her lap. “I just… sometimes I feel like I can’t keep up. Like I’m trying so hard to be happy, to be… me, but it’s exhausting.”
Seonghwa crouched down in front of her, resting a hand on her knee. “You don’t always have to be the sunshine, YN. It’s okay to feel tired. It’s okay to need help.”
YN's chest rose and fell rapidly, her breath coming in shallow gasps as the weight of her emotions overwhelmed her. Her hands trembled as they clung to Seonghwa’s forearm, her grip so tight it felt as though she was holding onto him for dear life.
Seonghwa didn’t flinch, didn’t pull away. Instead, he stayed perfectly still, a steady anchor in the storm of her panic. He knelt in front of her, his calm presence a stark contrast to her spiraling emotions.
“YN,” he said softly, his voice like a gentle tide. “Breathe with me. In through your nose, slowly… and out through your mouth.”
She shook her head, her tears streaming freely. “I—I can’t,” she choked out, her voice cracking.
“You can,” Seonghwa reassured her, his tone unwavering. “I’m right here. Just focus on me. Look at me, YN.”
She hesitated but finally met his gaze, her teary eyes locking onto his calm, reassuring ones.
“That’s it,” he murmured. “Now, follow my breath. In… and out.”
She tried, mimicking his slow breathing, though her breaths still hitched with sobs. Her fingers dug into his arm, and he didn’t so much as wince. Instead, he reached up with his free hand and gently dabbed at her tears with the handkerchief, his movements deliberate and careful.
“It’s okay to cry,” he said softly, his voice unwavering. “It’s okay to feel scared. You don’t have to apologize for how you feel.”
Her sobs quieted slightly, though her grip on his arm remained as strong as ever. She clung to him as though letting go would cause her to crumble entirely.
Seonghwa stayed patient, his calmness never faltering. He wiped her tears every so often, his hand moving with the same care as someone handling something fragile. “You’re safe here,” he reminded her. “Nothing’s going to hurt you. Not while I’m here.”
His words were like a lifeline, grounding her enough to slow her racing heart. After a few moments, her breathing began to even out, the tightness in her chest loosening bit by bit. She loosened her grip on his arm but didn’t let go entirely, her fingers still clutching him lightly as she hiccupped through her tears.
“Better?” he asked softly, his eyes searching hers.
She nodded weakly, her voice barely above a whisper. “Thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank me,” he replied gently. “You’re not alone, YN. You never will be.”
Though her tears hadn’t fully stopped, a flicker of warmth spread through her chest at his words. Seonghwa’s presence was steady and unwavering, and in that moment, she felt just a little bit lighter.
After leaving Seonghwa’s room, YN made her way to her quarters. Her steps were slow, her mind a swirl of emotions she couldn’t quite pin down. She opened the door quietly, her gaze immediately landing on Wooyoung sitting cross-legged on the floor near the door, as he always did at night. His head lifted when he saw her enter, concern evident in his eyes.
“YN, I—”
“Don’t,” she interrupted firmly, her voice steady despite the whirlwind inside her. She stood before him, her hands trembling slightly as she reached for the hem of her sleeves.
Wooyoung’s eyes widened slightly, and he opened his mouth to say something, but she silenced him with a look. Slowly, she rolled up her sleeves, the fabric slipping upward to reveal the scars etched into her wrists.
Wooyoung’s breath hitched as he saw them up close for the first time, the pale lines stark against her skin. His heart ached, a heavy weight settling in his chest as he looked at her, at the vulnerability she was showing him.
“This is what you wanted to know, right?” YN said, her voice soft but laced with a mix of courage and apprehension. “You wanted to know where the scars came from. Well… here they are.”
Wooyoung stood slowly, his movements careful as if afraid any sudden action might scare her away. He didn’t say anything at first, his gaze flicking from her wrists to her face.
The silence lingered for a while before YN took a shaky breath, her fingers twisting together in her lap. She stared at the floor, her voice barely above a whisper as she finally began to speak.
“My mother…” she started, pausing to collect her thoughts. “She wasn’t… normal. She was cruel. A maniac, really. She’d punish me for anything and everything—spilling a drink, speaking too loudly, even just… existing.”
Wooyoung sat perfectly still, his gaze fixed on her, his heart breaking with every word.
“And her punishments,” YN continued, her voice trembling, “they weren’t like what most kids go through. She didn’t yell or ground me. She… she used a whip. Always on my wrists. Always in the same place. I can still feel it sometimes, even now.”
Wooyoung’s fists clenched at his sides, but he didn’t interrupt, letting her speak at her own pace.
“My father tried to stop her,” she said, her voice cracking slightly. “He did everything he could, but she didn’t care. She was… relentless. And then, one day, she just… overdosed. Died right there in the house.”
She swallowed hard, her hands shaking as she rubbed at her sleeves. “You’d think I’d feel relief, right? That the nightmare was over. But I didn’t. I fell into this… dark hole. A part of me hated her, but another part of me missed her. I was so confused, so… lost. And that’s when it started.”
Wooyoung’s breath caught in his throat as she glanced at her wrists, her voice quieter now, as if she were confessing a sin.
“I started hurting myself,” she admitted, tears welling up in her eyes. “At first, it was just to feel something—anything other than the emptiness. But then it became… addictive. Like I couldn’t stop. Every time I felt overwhelmed or scared, it was my way of coping. It felt like the only thing I could control.”
Her voice broke, and she wiped at her cheeks, the tears now falling freely. “I hate it. I hate what I’ve done to myself. But it’s so hard to stop. Even now, there are days when the urge comes back, and I have to fight it with everything I have.”
Wooyoung moved closer, his heart heavy as he watched her crumble in front of him. “YN…” he said softly, his voice laced with pain and understanding.
She looked up at him, her eyes filled with a mixture of vulnerability and shame. “I didn’t want you to know,” she whispered. “I didn’t want anyone to know. I thought I’d be fine keeping it to myself, but now… now I don’t know.”
“You don’t have to do this alone anymore,” Wooyoung said firmly, his voice steady despite the emotions swirling inside him. “You have me. You have Seonghwa, the captain… all of us. You’re not alone, YN. Not ever again.”
Her lips quivered, and for a moment, she looked like she wanted to argue, but then she nodded, the smallest bit of relief shining through her tears. “Thank you,” she whispered.
Wooyoung reached out, hesitated for a moment, and then gently placed his hand over hers. “You’re stronger than you think,” he said softly. “And I’ll remind you of that every day if I had to”
For a moment, she saw nothing but sincerity and warmth in his eyes. “I’ve already burdened Seonghwa enough tonight,” she said with a small, forced laugh, trying to lighten the mood.
“You’re not a burden,” Wooyoung said immediately, his voice firm. “Don’t ever think that. Not to him, not to me, not to anyone.”
The corner of her lip twitched upward, a small, grateful smile breaking through. “Thank you,” she whispered.
Wooyoung nodded, his expression softening. “Always.”
Without another word, she sat down on the edge of her bed, and Wooyoung returned to his spot on the floor near the door. The air between them was quieter now, but it wasn’t heavy. It felt lighter, like a silent understanding had settled between them.
And for the first time in a long while, YN felt a small sliver of peace.
The following days on the ship were like a fresh breeze in YN’s life. The weight she had carried for so long didn’t feel as heavy anymore. She laughed more, her usual sunshine-like personality shining even brighter now that the storm inside her had started to clear. She could feel it—she wasn’t alone anymore.
Wooyoung noticed the change in her, and it made his heart swell with pride and affection. She still leaped around the ship like a child, asking silly questions and sometimes pestering the others for answers. But now, there was something different about her—the way her laughter came from a place of genuine joy, the way her smiles reached her eyes.
And Wooyoung… he couldn’t stop looking at her. Every time she smiled, every time she glanced his way, his heart raced. He knew what it was now, that feeling that had been growing inside him from the moment he met her. He loved her.
She had become his light, his reason to be better, his reason to fight. And though he wasn’t brave enough to say it aloud, he showed it in every little thing he did. Whether it was sitting outside her door at night to keep her company or silently slipping her favorite snacks into her bag, his love for her shone through his actions.
For YN, Wooyoung had become her pillar, her safe place. She loved the feeling of knowing someone had her back, someone who cared for her as deeply as he did. It was something she’d never had before, and she treasured it more than anything.
One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon and painted the sky in hues of gold and crimson, YN sat on the deck, her feet dangling over the edge. Wooyoung sat beside her, his usual playful demeanor softened by the quiet moment.
“Thank you,” she said suddenly, her voice carrying a softness that made Wooyoung turn to look at her.
“For what?” he asked, tilting his head.
“For being here,” she replied, her eyes fixed on the endless ocean before them. “For being my friend, for being my… everything.”
His heart skipped a beat, and he smiled softly. “You don’t have to thank me for that, YN. I’ll always be here for you. Always.”
She turned to him then, her eyes shining with gratitude and something deeper. “You’ve made me feel… safe. Happy. I don’t think I’ve ever felt like this before.”
Wooyoung’s breath caught in his throat, but he didn’t say anything, afraid he might ruin the moment. Instead, he reached out and gently took her hand in his, giving it a light squeeze.
And in that quiet moment, with the ocean stretching endlessly before them and the stars beginning to appear in the sky, they sat together, content in the knowledge that they had each other.
For YN, it was the start of a new chapter, one where she wasn’t defined by her scars but by the happiness she was finally allowing herself to feel.
And for Wooyoung, it was enough to simply be by her side, loving her quietly but completely, knowing that she was his light just as much as he was hers.
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juyeoz · 1 day ago
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SOFT SPOT — HAN TAESAN
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SYNOPSIS — To the eyes around you all, you and Taesan are enemies. You hate anything to do with each other and recoil at the mention of your names. However, behind closed doors, you two are completely different — inseparable. Clearly, Taesan and you will go to an extent to keep your relationship private.
PAIRING — fake-enemy-but-boyfriend!taesan x gn!reader
CONTAINS — kissing, corny love birds Likee i kinda recoiled when writing some lines, and literally just fluff.
WORDCOUNT — 1007 words
NOTE — soph sent that taesan pic and our lives were changed……..and this fic was born duhhh!!!!
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“Absolutely not!” You exclaim and spin around in your chair after hearing a few words leave your superior's mouth.
Mr. Lee looks taken aback by your response. Yes, everyone knows about the ongoing battle between both Taesan and you, but your reactions to each other’s names being mentioned never fails to catch them all off guard. 
In the office, you and Taesan never get along. It's been this way since the beginning of your careers. 
Yes, you two have taken a liking to one another since you met, but you couldn’t let anyone else at work know about it, so you played it off as enemies. 
Well, you two at least pretended to want to do nothing with each other to make things less obvious. 
The “enemies” title was given by your coworkers.
Therefore, working with each other is never an option. You “can’t” even stand being in the same room as him, making working in the office a “terrible” experience.
“I won’t work with him.”
“Please, the two of you are the only free ones. We need this proposal by tonight.” Mr. Lee explains with a pleading gaze.
“Then I’ll work on it alone. I don’t need his help.” You say while collecting your scattered papers on the surface of your desk.
“That won’t do.” 
“And why is that?” 
You stack your papers into a pile and turn off your computer in a swift motion as Mr. Lee sighs from behind you.
“It’s too much for one person to handle. With his help, you’ll surely get it done.” He crosses his arms over his chest as you snicker.
Is he looking down on you right now?
“Whatever that means,” you begin and stand up from your seat, with your papers in hand. 
“I’ll work overtime. It can’t be that hard.”
Although it has only been three hours since you uttered those words, you surely are regretting them now.
There you sit, staring at a blank document showcased on your monitor. No matter how long you sit in silence, nothing is coming to your mind. 
Brain fog is after you, and clearly, it doesn't need to try so hard to catch up.
The longer you waited for something, a starting sentence, words — even an overall idea to come to your mind, the more and more workers left. The sun is starting to set, casting an orangey light on your belongings.
In distress, your hands pull at your strands as you let out a groan of frustration. 
You should have listened to what Mr. Lee suggested, but you couldn’t let your relationship become known.
Everyone is used to both you and Taesan rejecting any projects that have to do with one another, so, if you switched up, would they have questioned it?
It sucks, really. You want to spend time with your boyfriend at work, but there are too many eyes on the two of you. To be honest, you can’t even recall why you chose to keep your relationship a secret. It could be because of the awkward tension that would come if you two ever break up and everyone knew about it.
That is a possibility.
The only times you two interact romantically are in the break room when you coincidentally both end up there at the same time. The teasing glances that make your eyes lock with one another and break out into a smile. Or when he secretly leaves anonymous sticky notes on your desk belongings.
Other than that, there is nothing. However, despite that, things will be seen eventually. 
“What’s worrying your pretty mind, love?” A voice approaches you from behind, instantly calming your tense figure due to the familiar warming tone. 
It’s Taesan — your loving boyfriend and so-called workplace enemy.
“A proposal.” You inform as Taesan’s hands slide down from your shoulders and his chin rests on your head.
“Is it the one Mr. Lee suggested we do together?” He asks and you hum in response.
“Why’d you say no? I would be more than glad to help you.” 
“It’ll draw too much attention if I agree, no?” Your head begins to turn to look his way, causing him to rise from his resting position. He looks down at you and smiles while you look up at him.
“That’s too bad.” Taesan begins, then leans down to give you a short and sweet kiss on the lips, which you happily return. 
“If it didn’t, then I could’ve done that many times during work hours instead of after hours.” He teases while your face becomes slightly flushed.
“Why don’t I just help you now? I mean, there’s nobody around…” The boy suggests as your hands lower into your lap.
“Would you actually?” 
“Of course. Here, let’s have a food break first. You seem too overwhelmed by everything to even continue your supposed brainstorming process.” 
You roll your eyes at what he truly meant — your flustered expression — and rise up from your seat for him to lead the way to the break room. 
“A coffee will do?” Taesan questions and you nod. 
“That and your presence, of course.” You reply, giving him another kiss on the cheek once you reach his side.
“Hey.” He stammers out because of the sudden warmth on his cheek. Now, it’s his turn to be left a blushing mess.
“Only I can catch you off guard with a kiss.” He says and you laugh while interlocking your hand with his. 
Out of nowhere, his thumb rubs against the skin of your hand — a reflex he has whenever he intertwines your fingers with his own.
You hum at his words, pondering on his new sudden rule.
“Doesn’t that seem unfair?” Your brow raises as you say your question and look over at the boy interrogatively. Taesan looks back at you, holding eye contact with no signs of breaking it and smiles.
“Not at all.” Taesan replies to your question.
Best believe, after his words, you earned yourself another kiss on the lips for him to prove whatever point he had.
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© JUYEOZ
BOYNEXTDOOR PERM TAGLIST — @ancnymcnzjy @miumura @ilovedallywinston @i03jae @borednia @s0shroe @leehanwish @sol3chu @en-dream @ribbeoms @itsactuallylina @macapunoz @hollxe1 @r1kification @mensisim @mydearyeseo @sunghxxnie @taesanfav @wonzzziezzzz @ijustwannareadstuff20 @tanghuyuj @ranjupotato @mimimimiaa @ningizuo @hyunjinslongasslegs
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bunny-jpeg · 1 day ago
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hi!, could i please get churros, nanaimo bars and honey cruller with a side of milkshake and dark hot chocolate with oscar piastri?
bakery menu
hey that was quite the hiatus! happy to be back. i spent the holidays trying to figure out how to make a comeback with the bakery prompts. they'll still be scattered in with my other fics, but i hope you enjoy 'em! a little break is never a bad thing and i hope that you've been enjoying my other fan fics! i wanted to start with smaller orders to get back into the groove, but i'll work up to the lovely bigger orders ya'll have sent! thank you anon and i hope you enjoy <3
churros: "if you don't shut that little mouth of yours, i will stuff it full. okay?" + nanaimo bars: "who's my pretty girl? c'mon say it." + honey cruller: "i forget how small you are sometimes." + milkshake: size kink + dark hot chocolate: sub!reader served by oscar piastri (formula one)!!
tags: smut/pwp, established relationship, stress relief, oral sex (oscar receives), car sex, dirty talk
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sometimes racing felt like hitting his head against the wall. another week, another messy weekend. he was so close, but advised to let lando over take him. oscar honestly hated it sometimes.
they were friends, but lando always seemed to get the spotlight more. he was currently barrelling towards the wdc, and oscar felt like he was being left behind. a seat filler without much to give.
the anger brewed into something else inside of the normally gentle oscar. when you were talking to him on the drive back to the hotel. he made a remark that sent a hot feeling through you, "if you don't shut that little mouth of yours, i will stuff it full. okay?"
his eyes went wide and before he could say anything, you replied, "promise?"
oscar parked the car quickly, pulled into a quiet car park. he was thankful for his tinted windows as he put the car in park and turned it off. he said, "i'm sorry, i don't know-"
he never spoke to you like that. but you weren't scared of him, instead he knew that you were fairly flustered at his words. he reached to touch your cheek and instead you leaned in to kiss his inner wrist.
"don't worry about it, oscar. you're stressed out. i was near the pit wall when i heard them make the call... you feel bad." you said lovingly. you placed a hand on his thigh, close to his cock and added, "you should lose more if it makes you dirty talk like that."
oscar was able to relax and then leaned in across the gear shift to kiss you on the lips. he was able to cup most of your jaw with his larger hand. he asked, "do you like the dirty talk?"
you nodded as he held your cheeks in his hand. your lips forced to pout as he held you a little tighter. he chuckled lowly and thought it was beyond adorable.
he kissed your lips and said, "i forget how small you are sometimes." he knew that you liked your size difference, while it wasn't the largest gap anyone has seen. his slightly taller frame and bigger hands made you feel safe in his grasp.
"oscar." you said softly.
he chuckled and kissed your lips tenderly. he held you face, letting you feel close to him. he soon pulled away and said, "honey, why don't you help me relieve a little stress... we're all alone here. look at you, so pretty. who's my pretty girl? c'mon say it." there was a slight tease to his tone that made your cheeks heat up.
"fuck." you exhaled deeply. it was erotic, you had to admit it. you moved your hands to his jeans and started to work his belt. you licked your lips and made eye contact with briefly before you got the belt undone. you asked softly, "
"no one else i'd rather make headlines with." he said lovingly before he kissed your cheek, "i think we're okay. i'll keep an eye out. you just focus on getting me off."
you got his cock out of his pants then leaned in to kiss the tip. you rubbed your thighs together even with the awkward angle that came with giving oral sex in a car. you kissed the tip softly before you wrapped your lips around it and sank down as deep as you could allow yourself.
you didn't want to choke on his cock. you were spurred on by his soft noises. even when he was angry, he still was painfully sweet. you moved your head up and down, you kept your pace steady and you tried to play with the head as you slid up and down.
"do you want dirty talk, baby?" he asked softly.
you nodded as you looked up at him. he patted your soft hair and held onto the back of your neck loosely. the feeling of his large hand on the back of your neck made your core soaked and goosebumps run down your legs. you shivered and he applied a little more pressure on his hold of you while you orally pleasured him.
"oh i bet you love that." he said, "the best stress relief i could have. they always say exercise or a massage, something. but, my best way to relief stress is to have you between my legs. have you choking on my cock. letting me do it in a car park, what a dirty girl. what would everyone think? they barely think we have sex!" he chuckled lightly. he licked his lips at the sight of you taking him, "but we get up to a lot, right? back home, you and i. i remember those weekends, how good you looked on top of me."
you moaned a little bit and he chuckled softly. you moved your head faster and oscar exhaled deeply from the feeling of your tongue on his cock. you anchored yourself on his thighs as your drool dripped down to his balls, wetting his briefs.
he held onto your hair for better hold of you. your curls in his hair hand as he moved your hips a little to push his cock just a little further into your mouth. he felt the shudder of want through him as the pleasure continued to mount in him.
your eyes fluttered shut as you focused more of your attention on his cock. your lips were slick with the gloss your wore, but it was coming off due to the saliva that was painting them now.
"baby." oscar cooed as he played with your hair.
the pleasure continued to grow in him. it mounted in his core as you pleasured him. you looked beautiful rested up against him. even if the position wasn't the most comfortable. but, he knew that once you got back to where you were staying for the weekend, that he'd take proper care of you. any pleasure you gave him, he would return five times over.
while he still felt the stress in his body, it was nothing that couldn't be fixed with your thighs wrapped around his head. he moaned a little bit and bit back a louder one that followed, "you take me so good. remember when we started having sex, you've only gotten better with each time we fuck. i'm so lucky to have you." he swallowed as he rested further against the leather car seat.
you let out a sweet moan as his cock nudged against your throat. you continued to move your head and even with the slight ache in your jaw, you continued. you wanted to get him off. soon after you took your mouth off of him and jerked his cock with the same energy. you panted heavily as you said, "you're my champion, oscar. even if no one else on the team sees it. i do." you looked at him and leaned up to kiss him on the lips.
he moaned into the kiss and hissed through his teeth when your mouth went back on his cock and you continued to pleasure him. the momentum of lust only picked up further in his body. he swore under his breath as he felt on the edge of orgasm.
you played with the tip against your tongue and he pushed you down further quickly as he came down your throat. you let out a squeaky moan, your mouth full of his cock as he finished. you pulled your head away and swallowed the salty taste in your mouth.
oscar's hand was on your face as he asked softly, "are you okay?" even with all the dirty talk, oscar was still the sweet, kind boyfriend you fell in love with. when you nodded he kissed you on the lips. "good." he said afterwards.
he put his cock back into his pants and patted you on the thigh before he started the car to leave the lot. his hand found your thigh and kept it there like it belonged there. he said simply when he pulled back to the main road, "when we get back. i hope you're ready for more dirty talk. because there's so much more i want to do." <3
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cronchybuffalo · 1 day ago
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I emmerges to post old stuff thats suppose to be posted in like October last year or something but time is a cruel mistress and my ass have not taken all the beatings well. ALSO MY LOVELY POOK @imvietnamesenotchinese wrote some fic for this AU featuring her own beautiful MC Nyx too HERE and HERE (highly reccommend because this capture Sol's behaviour perfectly) Anyways, TKATB Vampire AU heavily inspired by VTMB anyone? I was torn between options for Sol and the voice in the back of my head say to go all in the cray meter so clan distribution for the cast (and MC) imo is Sol - Malkavian Crowe - Ventrue Hyugo & Geo - Kuei-Jin Jess & [Redacted] - Tremere Brittney - Toreador Deryl - Bruhjah All the original characters belong to @fantasia-kitt
Also the idea of a schizophrenic Sol due to the clan curse is lowk hilarious- Bro is pretty much 200 years old by this point. Extra contents and maybe more yapping under
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One person asked wtf happen with his design and uh idk-
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Some chibi portrait doodles featuring some of my amazing moots's TKATB OC reimagined in the AU by their creator featuring Nyx @imvietnamesenotchinese Lily @lilithaphro Lillith @lonelykitty101-blog and Red @r3dddddddd
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Lastly an old scrapped draft playing the idea of Sol chasing after his OG human soulmate for their entire life (and probably next life too lmao). If you asking why don't he turned them to save their life? 1. He kidnaps them before their wedding day years ago and delulu that they're destined lovers (dw they escaped later and Sol enters jail era for unlawful hosting leading to him being turned into a vampire) 2. Lowkey knows he cannot salvage his image anymore so mf place a bet on reincarnation.
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venuslarkspur · 7 hours ago
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Can I please request a teen female reader (15-17?) who’s entered the games to help her family, like all the responsibilities have fallen to her after her dads death 🥺💕(ANY CHARACTERS WILL DO) ILY UR PINK HAIR FIC AS WELL)
Playtime’s Over.
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Pairing(s): Squid Game Characters meet Fem!Teen!Reader, (ALL PLATONIC). Contains: Thanos, Se-Mi, Kang Dae Ho, Seong Gi Hun, Cho Hyun Ju, Park Gyeong Seok.
Summary: Them just doting on Teen Reader and wanting to protect her!
Note: This can be read as gender neutral as well! I didn’t really go out of the way to make it female looking back. NOT PROOFREAD I COULD NOT BE ARSED
Warning(s): ANGST, mentions of eating, VIOLENCE, family problems.
Thanos
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- He immediately takes a liking to you and can straight away tell you’re not actually 18. (I’m with the firm belief this man would have a soft spot for kids)
- Forces the rest of the group to refer to you as “yeodongsaeng” (or little just sister) and it makes you feel loved, even though you know he’s full of shit , kids see everything.
- You swear that sometimes he thinks you’re his actual sister, with the way he acts towards you; others in the game constantly think you’re actual siblings.
- Nearly gives you some of his drugs before he remembers your age and tells you to scram and do your homework.
- Doesn’t let Nam-Gyu shit talk you, would sooner slap him on the head than let him do that, and firmly reminds him you’re his younger sister now as well. That thought of being his sister made you want to vomit, but you wouldn’t mind Thanos being your brother though.
- Bonding over your father’s not being around anymore! Even though your circumstances are very different.
- When 2 players are called In mingle. He hesitates, despite the drugs running through his system; he shouts at Nam-Gyu to go with Min-Su while he drags you into a nearby room. Dumbfounded you still were, as he picked you first.
- You had found someone, despite his countless flaws and bullshit. There was still someone, until there wasn’t anymore. And you were left alone again.
Se-Mi
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- You’re the only one she’s letting call her ‘unnie’, very protective of you even before knowing your true age.
- If you need a distraction she will let you play with one of her rings while she asks you how school is and how you are doing.
- Very torn when she hears you’re providing for a whole family by yourself, wants to be there for you. Since you’re a kid with no parents to guide you here.
- Would give you her milk carton and egg. She doesn’t want it anyway just take it!
- Lets you trail after her like a duckling.
- Isn’t afraid to tell anyone to leave you alone if you’re getting picked on.
- Has an epiphany when she realised the reason your so good at the games is because it probably hasn’t bee long since you played them on the school courtyard :(
- Protects you in mingle, even though she knows she won’t always be able to keep you safe. But it ended up being her you failed to save.
Kang Dae-Ho
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- Was the first person to jump in and help you when you were getting abused by one of the other players, an older man that you had pickpocketed quite recently; naturally, he longed for his revenge, firmly punching your stomach, you fell to the ground immediately; he grabbed your hair and before he could land a blow on your face another player stepped in.
- “Leave the kid alone.” Another man, younger this time whose number read “388” had jumped in to defend you. The older man backed off slightly, but still felt the need to verbally attack you. “You know this little bitch?” He spat out, locking eyes with you. “This kid stole cash from me!” He screamed pointing an accusatory finger at you. You weren’t denying, you hanged your head in guilt; even if you explained your circumstances, he wouldn’t care. “Maybe she did, but shes just a defenceless kid,, lay off.” and with that the stingy man trotted away, maintaining eye contact with you.
- Player 388 had checked up on you after that, since that day you were overly attached to him. Trailing after him, he didn’t mind at all not one bit. He told you he actually had several older sisters and it was nice to have a younger one for a change.
- He respects your strength and perseverance more than anyone, having to provide for an entire family when you’re just a kid yourself is TIRING work and unimaginable for him.
- Encourages you to make your own choices, like don’t pick “O” or “X” just because he did.
- Makes sure you are one of the first prioritised during mingle, he saw what happened to Young-Mi and couldn’t live with himself if the same happened to you. You do a lot of hand holding after what happened to Young Mi; he’s scared to let go.
- He hates seeing how little hope there is in your eyes for someone so young, it’s his personal mission to make you feel hope again.
Seong Gi-Hun
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- Even though he’s kind of in his depressed era rn, all he sees when he looks at you is his daughter staring back at him. Acknowledges straight away that you’re only a bit older than her.
- It takes you a while to catch on, but you eventually realise why he’s protective of you. His own daughter wasn’t around anymore is the conclusion you came to, where she is or if she is you don’t know. Only that he must not see her anymore.
- scolds you quite a lot, telling you that you shouldn’t even be here anyway. That instead you should be doing your homework or studying for your next exam.
- When the cameras watch he has to distance himself from you, he doesn’t want the Frontman to know of his now emotional connection with you.
- You remind him of Sae-Byeok in an odd way.
- Would never forgive yourself if you died, you’d constantly be on his mind.
Cho Hyun Ju
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- I can’t lie she initially tries to stay clear of you, she knows if she gets too attached and you die, she won’t be able to live with herself.
- But she can’t seem to get rid of you, you follow her around like a baby duck.
- You, Her and Young-Mi become like a sisterhood, she’s the oldest and you’re the baby of the group. You both call her ‘unnie’
- Young Mi gives you her food and Hyun Ju follows along and passes you some milk. Because you need it to be “big and strong”
- She has so many questions about how you ended up in here. Where are your parents? What are your family doing if you’re here? Shouldn’t you be in school?
- When Young Mi dies she gets very protective of you, she’s not losing you as well.
Park Gyeong-Seok
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- Projection!!! He’s missing his daughter, you’re missing your dad! The perfect duo.
- On a serious note he hates how attached he is to you.
- You joined his group in the 2nd game and you played Flying Stone. He knows something was off about you, even putting on a tough exterior you seemed so childlike. When you confess your actual age he’s horrified, he didn’t want to believe it. How on earth are you in debt?
- He can’t believe you’re providing for a whole family. He struggles just providing for his daughter.
- Encourages you to hit “X”, trust me you don’t want to die here, you can’t help your family from your grave.
- If you seem a little hungry he offers you his food.
- You’re attached by the hip during mingle, you never left his side.
- He comforts you during the riot in lights out. Cradling your body, and running his hands through your hair to calm you down; wondering if this is how he’d hold his own daughter if she were here.
- You beg him not to go with the others in the revolt, he almost doesn’t. And later he’d wish he didn’t.
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aspenmissing · 2 days ago
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Ik you already made a fic about asexuality, but could you make one about a hyper sexual s/o? Someone who’s honestly scared of asking for too much. Obviously this is during the beginning part of their relationship. (Can be with anyone in the Arcane universe, and doesn’t have to be too explicit). Thank you! 🫶
Ps. I love your work a lot!!
ɴᴏ ʜᴏʟᴅɪɴɢ ʙᴀᴄᴋ
ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴠɪᴋ | ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ | ᴍᴇʟ || ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ/ꜱᴘɪᴄʏ ||
8144 ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ || ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ꜱᴘɪᴄᴇ!! ᴍᴀᴋɪɴɢ ᴏᴜᴛ, ɪᴍᴘʟɪᴇᴅ ꜱᴍᴜᴛ
ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ ᴀɴꜱᴡᴇʀ: ᴏʜʜʜ ʜᴇʟʟᴏ ᴍʏ ᴅᴇᴀʀ ᴍᴏᴏɴ! ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴜʀᴇ ᴛᴏ ʜᴇᴀʀ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ʏᴏᴜ!! ɪ'ᴍ ɢʟᴀᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏɪɴɢ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ, ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴏɴᴇ!! <3
ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ | ᴍᴇʟ
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JAYCE
The laboratory was always where Jayce felt most at home, surrounded by his creations, his tools, and the hum of his latest invention. It was a sanctuary of thought and focus. But tonight, something was different. You, standing in the doorway, your figure framed by the soft light of the lamps, filled the cold space with a warmth he hadn’t realised he craved.
You stood there, hesitating, unsure of what to do. Jayce noticed how your fingers fidgeted with the hem of your sleeve, how your eyes flickered nervously towards him but never met his gaze. It had been weeks since the two of you had started spending time together, but there was still something between you — an invisible barrier that neither of you had dared to cross. He could sense it, but the attraction between you was undeniable, stronger than ever.
"Everything alright?" Jayce asked, setting down his wrench and turning towards you, concern flickering across his brow.
You nodded, though your lips trembled slightly. "Yeah, just... been thinking."
"About what?"
You bit your lip, feeling a wave of hesitation crash over you. It wasn’t like you to be so unsure. Jayce had always made you feel safe, but tonight, there was an undeniable pull between you — one you weren’t sure how to handle. You wanted more. More than just the soft kisses, more than just the gentle caresses. But the thought of pushing him away with your desires, with your own need for more, terrified you.
Jayce’s voice broke through the silence, warm and reassuring. "Y/N, if something’s bothering you, you know you can tell me. You’ve never been shy about speaking your mind before."
You swallowed hard, taking a deep breath as your gaze fell to the floor. When you finally looked up, you spoke quietly. "I don’t want to ask for too much... I don’t want to overwhelm you."
Jayce’s expression softened instantly, a mixture of concern and tenderness in his eyes. He stepped closer to you, closing the gap with a slow, deliberate stride. His hand reached out, cupping your cheek gently, lifting your chin so you couldn’t look anywhere but at him. "Y/N," he murmured, his voice husky with warmth and something more, something undeniably intimate. "You don’t have to be afraid to ask. You’re not overwhelming me. Not even close."
Your heart skipped a beat as his words sent a wave of warmth spreading through you, but the anxiety still gnawed at you. "But... what if it’s too much? What if you don’t want it?" you asked, your voice barely a whisper.
He smiled then, a soft, reassuring smile that made your stomach tighten with anticipation. "Trust me. If I didn’t want this, you’d know. But I want to give you everything you need — every part of me. And if there’s something more, something you want... I’ll be here. Always."
The words settled between you both like a promise, a vow. You took a small step forward, the space between you shrinking with each passing second, your breath coming quicker as you finally allowed yourself to voice the thoughts that had been swirling inside of you for weeks.
"Jayce," you breathed, voice trembling slightly as you closed the distance. "I want... I want to be close to you. In every way. I don’t want to hold back anymore."
Jayce’s breath hitched at your words, the warmth in his eyes deepening into something almost primal. Without another word, he closed the last of the distance between you, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was nothing like the soft, tentative ones before. This one was heated, desperate, a release of all the pent-up desire that had been building between you both.
His hands found your waist, pulling you closer until you could feel the heat of his body against yours. He deepened the kiss, his lips pressing with urgency, as though he’d been waiting for this moment. His tongue brushed against yours in a gentle but insistent invitation, a slow burn that made you feel every inch of his closeness.
You gasped, pulling back just slightly, your breath coming quick and uneven as you met his gaze. His eyes were darker now, filled with a hunger that made your stomach tighten with need. "Jayce," you whispered again, this time a little louder, more desperate. "I need you."
His hands slid down your sides, his fingers brushing along the curve of your hips, before he gently lifted you, pressing you against the nearest counter. Your pulse raced as his body caged you in, his hands tracing the line of your jaw, his thumb brushing your lower lip with the lightest touch. The contrast between his gentleness and the heat of his desire left you trembling.
"You have me," he murmured against your skin, his voice rough but soft. "Every part of me. And I want all of you, Y/N."
You looked up at him, your heart racing, the uncertainty now replaced by something stronger. "Then show me," you whispered, your voice thick with longing. "Show me how much you want me."
His breath hitched at your words, and without another thought, he pressed himself closer, the heat between you almost unbearable. His lips trailed down your neck, his kisses slow and deliberate, his hands roaming to the small of your back as he pulled you even closer. Every movement was purposeful, as if he wanted to memorise every inch of you, as if he was giving you a piece of himself with each touch.
You arched into him, your hands running through his hair as your body reacted to his touch. The tension, the longing, everything you had been holding back was coming to a head. Jayce’s hands slid under your shirt, his fingers grazing your skin, making you gasp at the fire he ignited in you. He paused, lifting his head to look at you once more, his eyes searching yours for permission, for confirmation that you were ready.
"Are you sure?" he asked, his voice low and strained with desire.
You nodded, your lips curling into a small, shy smile. "I’m sure."
With that, Jayce kissed you again, this time without hesitation, as though he couldn’t wait any longer. The world outside the laboratory disappeared, leaving only the two of you, tangled in each other, exploring, pushing, and finally giving in to the pull that had been growing between you both for so long.
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VIKTOR
The dim light in Viktor’s apartment felt soothing, warm, as the soft hum of the machines and whir of his mechanical devices filled the silence. His apartment, with its sleek, metallic edges and subtle elegance, was quiet and unassuming—a space where the two of you had grown closer over time. Yet tonight, there was an air of uncertainty between you both, as if your feelings had become too intense, too confusing.
Viktor was seated in his armchair, his cane resting beside him. He looked at you, his golden eyes soft yet intense, as though he was waiting for something you couldn’t quite name.
You shifted nervously, your fingers fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. It wasn’t just the physical closeness that made you feel unsure—it was the way your emotions were starting to tangle together. There was an undeniable attraction, but you didn’t know how to voice the raw need that simmered beneath your skin. What if you were asking for too much? What if he didn't feel the same way?
Viktor noticed your hesitation. His sharp mind could see the conflict written across your face. He reached for his cane, lifting it slowly with a soft grunt, and guided it to rest across his lap. Then, his eyes softened even more as he leaned back.
"You seem... distracted, Y/N," Viktor remarked, his voice low and gentle.
You swallowed hard, trying to find the words. "It’s just... I’m not sure how to... ask," you admitted, your voice barely a whisper.
Viktor raised an eyebrow, a small, knowing smile pulling at the corner of his lips. “You don’t need to ask, you know. Not if it’s something you desire.”
You blushed, unsure if you could meet his gaze. The thought of pushing boundaries scared you, yet something about the way Viktor spoke gave you an odd sense of reassurance. He didn’t push; he didn’t rush. He let you come to him in your own time.
“I... I want more, Viktor,” you said quietly, hands trembling at your sides. "But I don't want to overwhelm you. I don’t want you to think I’m asking for too much. You’ve already done so much for me…”
Viktor’s gaze softened, and there was something in his expression that made your heart race. “Miláčku” he said, his tone firm but not unkind, “if it’s something you want, you don’t need to be afraid. Whatever it is, whatever you need, I will be here—just as you’ve been here for me.” (Darling)
His words, the genuine care in them, loosened the knot in your chest. It was strange, how this brilliant, calculating man could have such a steady, nurturing presence, one that made you feel safe, despite your own doubts.
You took a deep breath and stepped closer to him. “I’ve never really… known how to ask for what I want. I don’t want to seem like… like I’m taking too much,” you confessed, your voice catching.
Viktor smiled, leaning forward slightly, his eyes scanning your face with care. "You’re not asking for too much. Whatever you desire, let me show you how much I’m willing to give. You are more than enough, and I will always want more of you."
The words were a promise, a deep, unwavering vow, and they broke through the wall you’d built around your desires. You could feel your heartbeat thumping in your chest as you took another step forward, your hand reaching out towards him, trembling but determined.
=
He raised his hand, gently grasping yours, and pulled you onto his lap. The proximity felt electric, the air between you charged with a heat neither of you could ignore. Viktor’s hand gently cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin as his lips found yours.
It was soft, tender, as if he was waiting for you to take the lead. And for the first time, you felt no hesitation, no fear of asking for what you wanted. You pulled him closer, the kiss deepening, as his hand trailed along your spine, steady and sure.
His touch was like a steady anchor, grounding you. His lips pressed against yours with increasing intensity, and you felt a rush of heat flood your body. Every part of you yearned for more. You had never felt this way before, never been this close to someone, but there was a comfort in Viktor’s touch that made you feel safe, cherished even.
As the kiss continued, his hands moved to your waist, pulling you closer. His fingers brushed the skin of your back, sending a shiver through you. His lips moved to your neck, the soft caress of his breath against your skin making your pulse quicken. You closed your eyes, lost in the feeling, feeling as though time itself had stopped.
He gently tilted your head back, allowing him access to the delicate skin along your throat. His lips were light at first, then more insistent, as though he was waiting for you to make the next move, to tell him what you wanted. His words from earlier echoed in your mind: Whatever you need, I will be here.
You weren’t sure when the words slipped out, but they did. “I want you, Viktor,” you whispered, voice trembling. “I don’t know how to ask… but I want you.”
There was a pause, a moment of stillness, before Viktor lifted his head and met your gaze. His expression was unreadable for a moment, but then his lips curled into a gentle smile. "You have me, miláčku," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "Completely."
And that was enough.
Viktor’s hands slid under your shirt, his touch warm and deliberate. The air between you grew heavier, as though the tension in the room could no longer be contained. His lips trailed down to your collarbone, his tongue tracing soft, heated lines against your skin. You gasped softly, every touch igniting a fire within you, but still, you hesitated. This was new—vulnerable—and you weren’t sure if you were ready for it all.
But Viktor didn’t rush you. His fingers paused when they reached the waistband of your trousers, giving you a moment to breathe. His eyes, full of compassion and understanding, met yours, and in that moment, you realised that your fear was nothing compared to the trust you felt in him.
“You control this, Y/N,” Viktor said, his voice quiet yet firm, his hand resting on the small of your back. “When you’re ready, I will follow your lead.”
It was a small thing, a reassurance—but in that moment, it was all you needed. The weight of the world seemed to lift from your shoulders, and you knew, without a doubt, that Viktor would never make you do something you weren’t ready for.
You leaned in and kissed him again, with more urgency this time. The kiss deepened, and Viktor responded in kind, his hands exploring your body with careful intention. The heat between you was overwhelming, but there was no rush. Everything in its own time.
The evening stretched on, slow and languid, as you both explored each other—not just physically, but emotionally too. It was about trust, about desire, and understanding that, with Viktor, you were free to be everything you were, without hesitation.
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JAYVIK
The lab was quiet, the hum of machinery and the soft ticking of the clock filling the room as Y/N sat between him and Jayce on the couch. The soft light from the lamps reflected off the brass and metal details that decorated the room, casting a warm glow over the three of them. The air was thick with unspoken tension, the kind that could only exist when three people were on the verge of something new—something delicate, something that required trust, honesty, and vulnerability.
Y/N shifted nervously, her fingers curling and uncurling around the fabric of her sleeves, the motion almost automatic as she tried to calm the storm of thoughts running through her head. She had been with both Viktor and Jayce separately before, but this was the first time they were all together like this, and the air between them felt charged in a way she hadn’t anticipated. Her body ached with an unfamiliar longing, but it wasn’t just physical. It was more than that. It was a need for connection, for closeness—but she wasn’t sure how to ask for it.
Jayce noticed her fidgeting immediately, his eyes softening with concern. He leaned forward, the muscles of his arms shifting as he placed his hand gently on her knee. “You alright, love?” he asked, his voice warm but steady, the kind of voice that made her feel like everything was going to be okay, even if she didn’t know how to say what was on her mind.
“Yeah,” she muttered, her gaze dropping to her hands in her lap, the words feeling far too small to convey what she was feeling. The knot in her chest grew tighter, the confusion of her emotions almost too much to bear. She felt... hypersexual. A term she had always been a bit reluctant to acknowledge, because it made her feel as though there was something wrong with her. But she couldn’t ignore the need that coursed through her, the desire that seemed to linger in every touch, every glance. It was more than just physical—it was emotional, a craving for attention, for affection, for connection. And she didn’t know how to ask for any of it.
Viktor, ever the keen observer, watched her with that familiar intensity, his usual calm and analytical expression softening as he sensed the turmoil beneath her exterior. “It’s okay if you don’t have the words right now,” he said gently, his voice quieter than usual, carrying an unspoken promise. “We’re here to listen. Whenever you’re ready.”
She swallowed hard, the warmth in his tone offering a sense of reassurance that she hadn’t known she needed. Viktor had always been the more reserved one between the two, but there was a tenderness in his approach now that made her feel safe—made her feel understood, even without words.
“It’s just... I don’t know how to say it,” Y/N confessed, her voice barely above a whisper, the admission leaving her chest hollow. “I feel... like I need more. I’m always craving more—more touch, more attention. But I don’t know how to ask for it. I don’t know how to explain it without feeling like I’m too much.”
Jayce’s expression softened further, his hand shifting to her shoulder, a comforting presence. “You’re never too much for us, Y/N,” he said, his voice deep and reassuring. “What you need is important. It’s not about feeling too much—it’s about us finding a way to meet those needs together. You don’t have to hide anything from us.”
Y/N could feel the warmth of their understanding, but there was still a tightness in her chest that wouldn’t go away. The fear of rejection, of asking for something she wasn’t sure they were ready to give, lingered in the back of her mind. “I... I know I can be a bit much sometimes. I feel so needy. But it’s not something I know how to control. I just... want to feel wanted, I think. I want to feel like I’m enough for both of you.”
Viktor’s expression softened, his brow furrowing slightly with empathy as he processed her words. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting more,” he said, his voice rich with understanding. “Desire is a natural part of who we are, and it can be... overwhelming at times, especially when you don’t know how to express it. But the key is not to suppress it. To be open about it.”
Jayce gave a slow nod. “Exactly. You don’t need to hide any part of who you are. If you feel like you need more attention, more affection, we can give you that. We just need to know what that looks like for you, Y/N.”
Y/N swallowed hard, the words suddenly feeling much more real than she’d expected them to. She’d always been afraid of pushing people away by being too demanding, too open about her desires, especially in a relationship that involved more than one person. But Viktor and Jayce weren’t pulling away—they were only drawing closer.
“I’m scared that I’ll ask for too much,” she admitted softly, looking down at her hands, twisting the fabric of her sleeves nervously. “I feel like if I say it out loud, it’ll be too much. I want to feel wanted, but I don’t know how to... how to make you understand. Sometimes, I just need more touch, more connection, but it’s hard for me to... to ask for it. To say what I want.”
Jayce reached out, his hand cupping her chin gently to lift her gaze back to him. His touch was warm and grounding, and the intensity in his eyes made her feel like he saw her. Really saw her. “You don’t have to feel ashamed of what you want, Y/N. We’re here, we’re listening. What you need is important, and we want to be the ones to help you get it. You don’t have to be afraid of asking, of needing us. It’s okay.”
Viktor’s voice was softer than usual, almost as if he were speaking to himself as much as to her. “The difficulty is not in wanting more, but in fearing that it will drive us away. You don’t need to hide anything from us. If you want touch, affection, more... attention, then we can explore that. We will go at your pace, as long as we are all clear and respectful of each other’s needs.”
The weight of their words settled in her chest, the knot finally beginning to loosen as she realised that the very thing she feared—being too much—was the thing they both welcomed with open arms. She wasn’t a burden. Her desires weren’t something to be ashamed of.
“I... I need you both,” she confessed, her voice thick with emotion. “I need to feel wanted, to feel seen. I need you to touch me, to show me that I’m not too much.” Her breath hitched as she said the words aloud, feeling both vulnerable and liberated in the same breath.
Jayce smiled warmly, the kind of smile that made her feel like she was truly understood. He brushed a lock of hair from her face and leaned in close, his voice low and sincere. “You’re not too much, Y/N. We want to make you feel complete. And we’ll take the time to learn how.”
Viktor nodded, his hand resting on her shoulder now, grounding her in his presence. “We’ll do this together, step by step. We will learn what you need and make sure we give it to you. There’s no rush. There’s no shame.”
Y/N felt something shift inside her, a sense of relief flooding her as she realised that asking for what she needed wasn’t wrong. It wasn’t something to be feared or hidden. It was a part of her, and they wanted to understand it, to embrace it. And maybe, just maybe, she could finally allow herself to be seen.
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VANDER
The candlelight flickered softly, casting a warm glow across the room, but the shadows seemed to grow longer in the silence between them. Y/N sat on the edge of the couch, her fingers nervously twisting in her lap. The room felt like it was closing in around her as she tried to gather the courage to say what had been weighing on her for weeks.
Vander sat across from her, his usual calm and imposing presence somehow softened tonight. His broad frame was relaxed, but there was a subtle tension in the way his eyes lingered on her, waiting for her to speak.
"You're awfully quiet tonight," he said gently, his voice low and warm. "Is something on your mind, love?"
Y/N looked at him, her heart pounding in her chest. She wanted to tell him everything — about the way her body reacted to him, how every brush of his hand made her ache with longing. She wanted to be open with him, but the words were caught in her throat. The thought of sharing something so personal, so vulnerable, filled her with dread. What if he didn’t understand? What if he didn’t want her the way she needed to be wanted?
"I..." She swallowed hard, biting her lip as she looked down at her hands, trying to steady her breathing. "I don’t know how to say this."
Vander's brow furrowed with concern, and he leaned forward, his large hands resting on his knees. "Hey," he said, his tone soft, "whatever it is, you don’t have to be afraid to tell me. I’m not going anywhere. You know that, right?"
Y/N took a deep breath and nodded, her fingers still twitching in her lap. She had to say it. She had to. But how? How could she explain something so... raw?
"You’ve been patient with me," she started slowly, her voice barely above a whisper, "and I don’t know if you’ll understand, but... I feel like I need to be honest with you. About who I am."
Vander’s gaze softened, his eyes full of quiet understanding. "You don’t have to explain yourself, love. But if it helps, I’m listening."
She hesitated, biting her lip harder as the words tumbled out, her voice shaking slightly. "I... I’m hypersexual, Vander."
Vander blinked, his expression unreadable for a moment, and Y/N’s heart sank. She had said it, but now that it was out there, she was terrified of how he might react.
"I mean..." She stumbled over her words, trying to clarify. "I don’t just want you, I need you. All the time. It’s not just physical. It’s... it’s more than that. And sometimes it’s overwhelming."
The silence stretched between them, her chest tight with anxiety as she waited for him to say something. Anything.
Vander didn’t speak immediately, but instead, he moved closer, his hand gently brushing against her arm, grounding her in the moment. "You don’t have to be ashamed of that," he said quietly, his voice steady. "Everyone has their own needs, love. But if this is something you’re struggling with, I want to help you with it. We can figure it out together."
Y/N felt a surge of relief, but also something else—something deeper. She had feared that her desires, the way her body constantly craved more, would push him away. But Vander... Vander didn’t pull back. He was here, and his words were like a balm to the rawness inside her.
"I don’t know how to ask for it," she admitted, her voice breaking slightly. "It’s like, I feel this fire inside me, but when it comes to telling you what I need, I freeze. It’s hard to ask for what I want. I don’t know if you’ll want the same things, or if I’ll be too much."
Vander’s expression softened even further, and he reached out to gently cup her cheek, guiding her eyes to meet his. "You’re not too much for me," he said with a sincerity that made Y/N’s heart ache. "I’ll never think that about you. If anything, it makes me want to be closer to you. To understand you better."
She bit her lip, feeling a fresh wave of uncertainty, but Vander’s steady presence made her feel a little braver. "I... I need you, Vander. More than you probably realise. Not just... in bed, but in every way. And sometimes it feels like I’m drowning in it. It’s like this constant hunger, this craving, and I’m scared you won’t want to keep up."
Vander was quiet for a long moment, his thumb brushing over her skin in slow, comforting motions. Then, in a voice barely above a whisper, he spoke. "You’re not asking for too much. You’re asking for what you need, and I’m more than willing to help you find a way to make it work. We’ll go at your pace, and you don’t have to hide any part of yourself from me."
Y/N felt a wave of emotion rise in her chest. The warmth of his words, the way he was accepting her, all of her, without hesitation, broke down the walls she hadn’t even realised she had built. She wanted to reach for him, to pull him close, but there was a part of her that still felt fragile, still unsure.
"I just don’t want to overwhelm you," she murmured, her hands finally finding his, gripping them tightly as if holding on for dear life.
"You won’t overwhelm me," Vander reassured her. "I promise you, love, I’m not going anywhere. If anything, I want to be closer. I want to understand you better. Every part of you, even the parts that feel... too much. We’ll figure it out, step by step."
Y/N closed her eyes for a moment, breathing in deeply, feeling the weight of his words sink in. The knot in her chest began to loosen, and a part of her she hadn’t realised had been holding on so tightly finally relaxed. He wasn’t pushing her away. If anything, he was giving her the space to express herself fully.
"It’s not easy for me to ask," she admitted, her voice a little stronger now. "It’s like I’m afraid that if I ask too much, I’ll scare you off. Or... or that you’ll think I’m too much. But I need you so much. In a way that doesn’t always make sense, even to me."
Vander’s hand gently squeezed hers, bringing her focus back to him. "Love, you don’t have to be afraid of your needs. They’re part of who you are. And I’m not going to run from you because of that. What you need doesn’t scare me — it just makes me want to know you better. To understand what will make you feel safe and fulfilled. That’s all I want."
Y/N felt a soft warmth spread through her chest, and she leaned into his touch, allowing herself to finally relax a little. "I want to feel wanted. Not just in moments of passion, but all the time. I want to feel like you desire me, even when we’re not... together like that. Sometimes, I feel like I can’t stop, that there’s this constant need inside me. It’s exhausting sometimes, trying to keep it all in."
Vander’s hand gently cupped the back of her neck, drawing her closer to him. "I want to make sure you feel wanted, every single day, Y/N. Whether we’re sharing a quiet moment, talking, or... whatever else it is that you need. You don’t have to hold it all in anymore. You can come to me, and we’ll work through it. You’re not alone in this."
Her lips parted, her throat dry with emotion. "But... what if it’s too much? What if you get tired of me?"
Vander shook his head slowly, a slight smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "There’s no such thing as ‘too much’ for me, love. Not when it comes to you. I’m here to stay, for all of you. Every part of you. All the things you think might push me away? I want to be the one you can turn to when you need it the most."
The vulnerability in his eyes melted the last of Y/N’s hesitation, and she leaned forward, her lips brushing against his with a tender, grateful kiss. The world outside seemed to fade away, leaving only the softness of their connection, the comfort of their shared understanding.
"Thank you," she whispered against his lips, her voice thick with emotion. "Thank you for being patient with me. For... understanding what I need. I’m scared sometimes, but with you, I don’t feel like I have to hide any of it."
Vander’s hand slid into her hair, gently tilting her head as his lips met hers again, this time with a deeper urgency. "You never have to thank me for that, love," he murmured between kisses. "I’m not going anywhere. We’ll figure it out together, every step of the way."
And as their lips met again, Y/N knew that this was only the beginning. She wasn’t alone in this. Not anymore.
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SILCO
The dim glow of the candles flickered across the darkened room, casting long shadows on the walls. The faint scent of tobacco smoke lingered in the air, and the soft crackle of the fire in the hearth was the only other sound that seemed to fill the heavy silence. Silco sat in his chair, his posture as straight and commanding as ever, but there was something different about him tonight. Something deeper. He was watching you with a gaze that was unreadable, though intense enough to make your heart race in your chest.
You shifted in your seat, fingers tracing the rim of your glass absentmindedly, your gaze dropping to the surface of the dark liquid inside it. The silence between you was thick, like a tangible weight, and it pressed down on you with an almost suffocating force. You weren’t used to feeling this way. You’d always been bold, confident in what you wanted. But with Silco, it was different. Every instinct you had, every sharp desire you had ever followed, seemed to be clouded by his presence, by his dark, unyielding gaze. There was an intensity to him, a danger, and a confidence that left you uncertain about how to approach him, how to bridge the space between what you needed and the words you were too scared to speak.
He was intimidating, in a way that made you second-guess everything. You had spent your whole life demanding what you wanted without hesitation, without apology. But this... this was different. His gaze alone made you feel vulnerable, exposed. The way his eyes never seemed to stray from you made your thoughts scatter, leaving you unsure of how to vocalise the longing that simmered beneath your skin.
He never pressured you, never asked for anything. And yet, you felt like there was so much he could ask of you. That he could demand things of you, in ways that sent a flush through your body. What would he think of you if you did speak up? Would he see your need for him as weakness? Would he think you too bold, too much?
The question lingered in your mind, and for the first time in a long time, you found yourself afraid. Afraid of wanting. Afraid of being open.
=
Silco, on the other hand, was watching you closely, studying the subtle way you shifted, the way your gaze darted to the floor when the heat between you both grew too much. He had known from the moment you’d walked into his office that something had changed. You were different with him now, no longer the confident, sharp individual you had once been. There was a vulnerability to you that he hadn’t seen before, and it intrigued him. But Silco was patient. He knew the power of waiting, of letting the tension build until it became unbearable, until you were forced to confront it.
He didn’t need to rush you, didn’t need to press. You would come to him when you were ready.
"You’re quiet tonight," Silco’s voice broke the stillness, low and smooth, like velvet slipping through your thoughts. His words sent a shiver down your spine, and you looked up at him, meeting his gaze for the first time since he’d entered the room. The look in his eyes made it feel like he could see straight through you, like he was reading your thoughts as easily as if they were written in front of him. "Something on your mind?"
You felt your breath catch in your throat. This was it. The moment you could speak up, the moment you could tell him what you truly needed. But as you opened your mouth to respond, the words died on your tongue. How could you tell him? How could you ask for something so intimate, so raw, when you could barely admit it to yourself?
“I’m…” you started, but your voice cracked, betraying you before you could finish. You bit your lip, frustration bubbling up inside you. This wasn’t like you. You had always been able to take control of your desires, to demand them when you wanted. But Silco? With him, you felt small, unsure, like something more than your usual self was being drawn out. Something you didn’t know how to navigate.
Silco saw the hesitation, the uncertainty in your eyes. He didn’t mock you for it. No, he simply waited. His gaze softened, just the smallest hint of concern flickering beneath the usual cold calculation. But the danger in his eyes remained, lurking beneath the surface, as if warning you that whatever happened next was entirely up to you.
Without a word, he stood up from his chair. His movements were deliberate, slow, like a predator closing in on its prey. You couldn’t help but feel a flutter of anticipation in your stomach, a mixture of excitement and fear as he approached. Each step was measured, and each one felt like it brought him closer to something that both thrilled and terrified you.
When he stopped before you, his face just inches from yours, you felt your breath catch. His presence was overwhelming, and you couldn’t look away from the intensity in his gaze. His hand reached up, brushing a strand of hair from your face with a tenderness that seemed at odds with the dark energy surrounding him.
“I know you want something, Y/N,” Silco’s voice was barely above a whisper now, as if he were teasing you. But there was something else in his tone, something more knowing, more assured. “Don’t be afraid to ask.”
And just like that, the dam that had held back your words began to crack. The raw vulnerability you’d tried to bury surged to the surface, a need so desperate, so consuming, that you could no longer pretend it didn’t exist. You needed him. You wanted him. But how could you put that into words?
His fingers moved gently down your neck, his touch light but electrifying, sending goosebumps across your skin. He didn’t press further, didn’t push, but the weight of his presence—of his understanding—made your heart race. His voice, though soft, was filled with an intensity that left you breathless.
“You don’t need to be scared of me,” Silco whispered, the words both comforting and unsettling. “I don’t bite. Not unless you ask me to.”
A shiver ran through you at his words, and for a brief moment, you considered it. What would it be like, to ask him? To demand from him, to finally give in to the ache that had been building inside you? The thought made you dizzy, but you couldn’t stop yourself.
Your hand reached up, trembling slightly as it covered his, guiding it further down your body, silently pleading for him to understand. You didn’t need to say anything more. He had already seen it in the way you’d looked at him, in the way your breath hitched every time his fingers brushed against your skin.
“Silco…” you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper. Your heart pounded against your ribs, but something inside you broke free. You had never been this open, this vulnerable with anyone before, but you needed to say it. "I… I’m not like other people. I’ve always been… hypersexual. It’s not that I don’t want you—I do. But I’ve never been able to ask for what I need, and it makes me feel—" You paused, taking a breath, unsure if you could finish, but you pushed through. "It makes me feel... desperate, sometimes."
Silco’s eyes darkened at your admission, the flicker of understanding clear in his gaze. The silence between you now felt different—he was no longer waiting for you to speak. He was waiting for you to trust him. And in that moment, you realised that you had. Completely.
His smile curled at the edges, slow and knowing, as if he were proud of you for speaking your truth. His hand tightened slightly on yours, and he leaned in, his breath warm against your ear.
“There you are,” he murmured, the heat in his voice unmistakable. "No more hiding."
You closed your eyes, your pulse thundering in your ears as the tension between you became unbearable. There were no more walls, no more hesitation. You could feel the rawness of your need, the way your body screamed for him in a way you could no longer ignore.
“You don’t have to ask, Y/N,” Silco’s voice dropped to a low growl, sending another shiver down your spine. "I’ll take care of you. But I need you to understand something. When you give yourself to me... there’s no going back."
And for the first time, you weren’t afraid. You wanted him, wanted this. You wanted him to take you—just as he promised he would. And in that moment, you knew you had just surrendered the last of your reservations.
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MEL
The soft, ambient light of the evening filtered through the tall windows of Mel’s study, casting long shadows across the room. The quiet hum of the city outside seemed distant, muffled by the thick stone walls. In her chair, Mel leaned back, her gaze intense as she regarded Y/N across the room.
Y/N, seated on the plush armchair, fiddled nervously with the hem of her sleeve. The two had been together for a little while now, but something still held Y/N back. She longed for more, for something deeper, but there was an inexplicable fear that gripped her every time she thought of asking for what she truly desired. She wanted to tell Mel exactly what she needed—wanted to surrender to the desire that had been simmering beneath her skin—but the words wouldn't come.
Mel had always been so confident, so sure of herself. Y/N found it hard to imagine that someone as poised and self-assured as her could ever feel the same fear, the same hesitation. It was a thought that kept her from asking, from reaching out, and it left her sitting in silence, unsure of how to break the tension that seemed to stretch between them.
She couldn’t even bring herself to admit it aloud.
“Mel,” Y/N said softly, her voice wavering ever so slightly. “I… I feel like I’m always the one… waiting for something more. But I don’t know how to ask.”
Mel set down the papers in her hands and turned her full attention to Y/N. She could see the uncertainty in her eyes, the way her fingers twitched in hesitation. There was something in Y/N’s posture, something raw, that made her heart ache. She could feel the weight of it—the unspoken desire, the longing—but Mel had always been the kind of woman who understood the power of patience.
“I know,” Mel said gently, her voice soothing yet filled with a knowing warmth that made Y/N’s breath catch. She moved closer, settling down on the edge of the armchair, their proximity sending a subtle rush of heat through the air between them. “You’re afraid of asking for what you need. But, you know... you’re not the only one.”
Y/N looked up at Mel, surprise flickering across her face. The words hung in the air like a promise, soft yet undeniably powerful. “You too?”
Mel nodded, her expression softening as she met Y/N’s gaze, her eyes dark with understanding. “I’ve been in that place, where it’s hard to even vocalise what you want. It’s not just you, darling. Sometimes, the fear of being too forward, too demanding... it stops us from even saying the simplest things.”
Y/N’s heart skipped a beat, and her breath hitched. She had always assumed Mel, with all her elegance, grace, and undeniable allure, was someone who knew exactly what she wanted. The revelation that Mel had struggled with the same fear made her feel less alone, but it also caused something more dangerous to stir inside her—an overwhelming vulnerability.
“I don’t want to be... too much,” Y/N confessed quietly, her gaze dropping to her hands. “I feel like if I ask for more, I’ll scare you off or... or be too demanding.”
Mel’s hand found Y/N’s, her fingers warm and reassuring. She gently guided Y/N’s hand to her own lap, her thumb tracing delicate patterns across her skin as if to soothe away the tension. “You’re not too much,” she said firmly, her voice low, almost intimate. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting more—wanting everything—when you’re with someone who sees you. Who understands you.”
Y/N looked at Mel, searching her face for any hint of insincerity. Her heart raced with an anxious thrill. “You mean it?”
Mel’s lips quirked into a small smile, and she leaned in a little closer, their faces mere inches apart now. The scent of her perfume—a delicate blend of jasmine and sandalwood—filled the air, and Y/N could feel the warmth radiating from Mel’s body. “Of course,” she whispered, her voice soft and smooth like silk. “I’m the same. It’s easy to be scared of wanting too much, but what we both need is simple, isn’t it?”
Y/N swallowed, trying to steady her racing heart. She was so close now, so close to Mel’s warmth, but the words were still stuck in her throat. She could feel the pressure building in her chest, like an overwhelming tide threatening to crash over her. “What do we need?” she asked, her voice trembling slightly.
Mel’s thumb brushed over the back of Y/N’s hand, her touch gentle yet insistent. “We need to be honest,” Mel said softly, her eyes darkening with a knowing intensity. “We need to trust that neither of us will be too much for the other. And if there’s something you want... something that makes you feel safe, or wanted... you just need to tell me. I’ll listen.”
Y/N’s pulse quickened at the intimacy in Mel’s words. There was something dangerous and enticing about her quiet promise, something that made her ache for more. Mel wasn’t just offering to listen—she was offering everything. And for the first time, Y/N felt the weight of her own desires, raw and unguarded.
“But what if I tell you something that’s... too much?” Y/N asked, her voice barely above a whisper, her breath shallow as she tried to steady her trembling hands.
Mel leaned in even closer, her lips brushing against Y/N’s ear, sending a thrill of heat down her spine. “If it’s what you truly need, it’s never too much for me,” she said softly, her voice laced with a seductive promise. “Never.”
Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. The words were so simple, yet so full of unspoken desire, that it took everything in her not to give in to the heat pooling in her stomach. She had never imagined Mel to be so open, so willing to give everything. But here, now, with her body so close, so tantalisingly near, Y/N realised that this was not a woman who would shy away from the heat of desire. No, Mel was a woman who thrived in it.
“Mel...” Y/N began, her voice steadier now, though still tinged with vulnerability. She turned her gaze up to meet Mel’s, feeling the weight of her longing pressing in on her chest. “I think I know what I need from you.”
Mel’s eyes darkened, anticipation flooding her expression. She moved even closer, their faces so near now that Y/N could feel the warmth of Mel’s breath on her lips. Her heart pounded in her chest, every fibre of her body alive with the raw tension, waiting for Mel’s response.
Y/N hesitated for just a moment longer before Mel began speaking, her voice quiet but heavy with an unspoken promise. “I need you to show me what you feel... not just with words, but with actions. I need to feel all of you, Y/N. The real you. Everything you’re afraid to show—the passion, the tenderness, the desire... all of it.”
Y/N’s eyes flickered with understanding, her lips curving into a slow, knowing smile. “You want everything, then?” Her voice was a sultry whisper, sending a shiver down Mel’s spine.
Mel nodded, her breath hitching as she met Y/N’s gaze, the heat of desire building between them. She had never been more certain of her own desires. “Yes. I want all of you, Y/N. Everything you have to offer.”
Y/N’s smile deepened, a predatory curve to her lips. She leaned in, her lips brushing against Mel’s forehead in a lingering kiss, as if savouring the moment. “Then everything you shall have,” she murmured, her voice low, possessive.
When their lips finally met, it wasn’t just a kiss—it was a surrender. A moment of raw vulnerability shared between them. Mel’s kiss was soft, tender, but beneath it simmered a heat that pulled Y/N closer, drawing her in. It was a kiss that promised so much more, a kiss that spoke of desires that had been waiting to be released.
Mel’s hands roamed over Y/N’s back, drawing her in tighter. The kiss deepened, slow at first, then urgent, as Y/N melted into it, letting herself be consumed by the fire that burned between them. There was no hesitation now. No fear. Only the raw, unfiltered need to feel everything—to experience everything they had been too afraid to ask for.
In that moment, Y/N realised something. With Mel, there would be no holding back. There would be no more fear of asking for what she truly craved. No more shame. No more barriers. It was a new beginning—one of honesty, vulnerability, and a love that was free of limits. A love that burned hot and fierce, giving them both what they needed.
As their bodies pressed closer, the world outside seemed to fade away. All that mattered was the connection between them. Y/N knew she could ask for everything now, and Mel would be there to give it—all of it. No shame, no hesitation, just desire. Just passion. And just each other.
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