yuni.

most people couldn’t look at him for long.

the moment they caught sight of him, their eyes dart away. some out of fear, or some out of disgust. they believe a creature like him isn’t meant to be looked at.

you think they are all blind.

the evening is quiet, lantern light casting a warm glow across the room. it has become part of your nightly routine before bed, these quiet moments spent with your husband after the day has settled.

sukuna sits against the bed frame, one pair of arms folded while the other rests loosely across his lap.

his crimson eyes follow you as you crawl toward him. you sit down beside him and gently take one of his hands, then another.

his brows rise as he looks at you expectantly.

you compare them, turning them over in your palms. thick fingers, calloused skin, veins running beneath flesh capable of tearing apart crowds.

yet you trace them carefully, as if they are something precious.

“four arms..“ you murmur.

“you say that as if you’ve only just noticed,” he says, clicking his tongue after.

Imagine this…

You were in Gemma’s office, sifting through a stack of invoices and receipts, when the low, rolling thunder of engines came from outside. Not just one an entire pack.

Gemma pulled the blinds back, narrowed her eyes, and said flatly:

“Mayans.”

Curiosity got the better of you, and you leaned over to look. A line of black bikes rumbled through the gate, chrome catching the sunlight, the smell of gasoline drifting in. And at the head of the pack was a face you recognized instantly, even after all these years.

Ezekiel Reyes.

The meeting with the Sons was quick firm handshakes, tight words, the kind that sound like either the closing of a deal or the final polish on a fragile peace. When the Mayans started heading back to their bikes, Ez spotted you. His expression softened, lips twitching into a shy smile, and he gave the smallest wave.

You stepped toward him.

“Didn’t know you were riding with the Mayans now…”

“Yeah… it’s been a while since we saw each other. I haven’t been with them that long.”

“Not that short either,” you said with a wry smile, “if you’ve already got the president’s patch.”

He gave a little grin.

“Look… this isn’t exactly the place, but maybe we could meet somewhere, talk?”

You’d both noticed by now that the Sons were standing outside the clubhouse, clearly watching.

“I don’t know what about…”

“About how I’ve missed you all these years,” he said quietly. “I thought I’d moved on, but… seeing you now… I haven’t.”

“We were college kids, Ez,” you reminded him. “Then you went to prison… and that was it.”

“I know you’re with Jax now.”

“The Sons are my family. If I’d known you had anything to do with the Mayans, I never would’ve gotten involved with you.”

“I didn’t want this either… it just happened.”

“Y/N!” Chibs’ voice cut through the tension. You turned and walked away, feeling Ez’s gaze burn into your back.

***

Half an hour later, the Mayans were gone and the clubhouse talk had died down. Jax slid onto the couch next to you, flicked his lighter, and took a slow drag from a joint. (Gif)

“You wanna tell me what you were talking about with the president of the Mayans?”

“Nothing big,” you shrugged. “Just surprised they’ve got such a young president now.”

“World doesn’t stand still,” he said slowly, eyes locked on yours. “You know him?”

“Damn…” you sighed, knowing there was no point trying to lie to Teller. “We went to college together. Parallel courses.”

“What?” His brows pulled together, his voice suddenly carrying a sharp edge of jealousy.

“Yeah. He never said anything about liking bikes, let alone a club,” you added then immediately regretted it, knowing how fragile that new peace agreement was.

“Right,” Jax nodded. You started to relax until he narrowed his eyes and asked, “So what was the name of the guy you were dating back in college?”

you rolled your eyes, turning away from the computer to face mateo.

“still calling me that?” you queried.

he flashed you that infamous smirk, licking his lips before he replied, “if the shoe fits.”

you rolled your eyes again. you were used to being called the baby of the pitt; not only were you the newest student nurse, you were also the youngest, and this was also you first clinical.

you handed him the clipboard, “don't go acting all grown on me just because you have a beard now.”

he chuckled, nodding in approval at your snark before walking away to his patient.

+

“stop hovering, baby.”

you looked down at mateo’s handsome face. “it’s going to hurt.”

he chuckled softly, his grip on your thighs tightening as he seemed to draw you in closer. “it won’t hurt, baby.”

“i’m going to get carpet burn,” you mumbled.

his smile widened at that. “then i’ll make it up to you.” he said, rubbing soothing circles on your skin. “c’mon, baby.” he whispered.

you spared one last hesitant look before slowly settling on top of his face. you let out a sharp gasp when mateo pulled you down into him, his nose wedging perfectly against your bundle of nerves.

“mati,” you breathed out, clutching onto the headboard for support.

you could feel the delicious scrape of his beard against your skin. though it was mildly unpleasant, the pleasure of his mouth sucking on your clit and his tongue swiping between your folds greatly outweighed the negatives.

one of his hands strayed up to squeeze at your breast, making your hips stutter against his face.

“mierda,” he swore under his breath. “can’t get enough of you,” he buried his face deeper between your thighs, his tongue teasing the rim of your entrance.

your eyes squeezed shut, “m-mati…i’m so—”

that’s when he vigorously shook his head against you. the vibrations combined with the burn of his beard had you shaking, your hips bucked up to nudge his nose against that perfect spot until you came.

the rush left your lungs on fire, you slumped against the headboard, feeling the wetness pool in the space between your folds and his mouth.

mateo kept licking you through your high, helping you come down. he left one final kiss on your inner thigh before pulling away.

the sight of your climax coating his beard left you shuddering. you inched away from him, but you froze when he dragged you back into place.

“not done yet, baby.”

divider by @im4yeons

You know what's better than fluff? Dark fluff.

The kind where devotion borders on obsession, where love isn't just tender—it's consuming.

"I'd do anything for you, love," he murmurs, voice smooth, unwavering. "Anything you desire, and it's yours."

And the other doesn't hesitate, voice laced with something raw, something desperate.

"I want her to split me open—dig her fingers into my ribs and pry them apart. To hold my heart in her hands, feel the pulse of it against her palms, my blood staining her skin. I want her to pick my bones clean, crack them open, suck the marrow dry. I want to be ruined by her, consumed until there's nothing left of me but the taste of her name on what's left of my tongue."

Because love, when it’s deep enough, is a hunger—one that begs to be fed.

OLROX

And if you don’t believe me, Rachel herself said she came up with Shane’s ‘performance enhancing diet’ to emphasize Ilya’s struggles, and to give Ilya something he can pick on Shane about.

This is why people say TLG needlessly villainized Shane - they’re both struggling so hard to love each other while taking care of themselves. To understand each other while refusing to open up. But RR seems much more invested in Ilya’s struggles and using Shane as a stick to beat him with.

When I had an ED, I was the rudest I’ve ever been. When I had an ED, I could barely focus on anyone’s emotions, let alone my own (unless they related to my body). When I had an ED, I woke up one day and I was so tired that I started to stop. It wasn’t immediate, but it was gradual, and the change seemed to come out of nowhere at the time. Looking back, I know it was a surrender in the face of complete exhaustion. I saw myself in Shane, how he snips at Ilya, sometimes can’t seem to understand him, and let’s go of it all when he’s been stretched too thin.