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brabblesblog · 3 days

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𝕽𝖊𝖒𝖊𝖒𝖇𝖊𝖗 𝖞𝖊 𝖓𝖔𝖙 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖒𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘.

Ch 13: …because I am my husband's life as fully as he is mine.

A sequel to Whither is thy beloved gone? (AO3)

After the events of ‘Whither is thy beloved gone?’ Lord Astarion Ancuńin and his consort wife navigate their relationship anew. The ghosts of the past - his, hers, and theirs - threaten to unravel everything they’ve worked for.

The special day arrives.

Professionally edited by @editing-by-night

Read on AO3.

Masterlist

Art by @lirotation

Ban stared at the gowns laid before her. There were three, in contrast to Astarion’s four suits. He’d hired several painters to sketch out portraits, some in the days before the event and some on the day itself. Today.

The maid braiding her hair tugged at a strand a little too tightly, but she barely noticed. On the opposite end of the room, Gale entered.

”Ah. Ban.” He nodded. “Just picking up the suits.” He reached for them, hanging from a coatstand near the doorway, but had to pause to shove away the silver-curl-topped head that threatened to poke through the door. “No peeking, Astarion! Don’t make me put up wards!”

Ban stifled a laugh as she heard a low growl, a chuckle, and then the sound of steps stalking away.

”He’s impatient,” Gale grinned, finally gathering all four ensembles in his arms. “But you already knew that.”

”You’d think he wouldn’t be, considering we’ve seen each other in these outfits before.” She remembered posing for portraits, having to hold poses stiffly - not a new occurrence, but they’d worn these outfits for them. It had felt… odd, seeing herself in wedding finery, white silks and embroidered fabrics. She was more comfortable with wearing more extravagant clothing now, but some of these outfits were well beyond what she was accustomed to. She’d imagined marrying someone, of course, but she’d figured it would be one of her father’s arranged events - a son of some fellow merchant or someone of import. Never had she considered it would be someone she’d actually love.

Not until the nautiloid, she supposed. She brought the old fantasy to mind.

Astarion in a crisp white suit, the color matching his hair. He’d smile at her, waiting for her as she walked down the aisle. The sun would shine on both of them somehow, but the tadpole would be gone - how this would be possible, she’d never thought to consider. He’d beam, his fangs making an appearance as she approached, and he’d offer her his hand, which she would take. She would be the happiest woman in Faerûn.

Another tug on her hair, and Ban sighed, opening her eyes. Their wedding would be at sunset, which meant a whole day of not seeing each other. The last time they hadn’t been glued to each other’s side was - she brushed the thought away.

Irrelevant. It will never happen again.

She instead allowed her eyes to gaze into the mirror, watching herself. She was still in her silken robe, a rich royal purple, but her eyes were locked onto her own. Still black, miraculously. Still her. She absently opened her mouth, a finger pulling her lip up to see her fangs for the first time. They weren’t anything impressive, and she sighed, letting go of her lip.

The maid doing her braids looked at her in the mirror. “You are still lovely, madam. Even if you are…” she trailed off.

Ban chuckled nervously. “I never was. But thank you.”

“That most certainly isn’t what our lord thinks,” the maid said amusedly. She resumed her work and left Ban to ponder her words.

Gale walked in to find Astarion preening in front of a mirror, styling his hair. He wordlessly hung the suits one by one. The to-be-groom seemed perfectly level, fingers carefully raking through and arranging the silver curls into their usual perfectly-coiffed style, but Gale could see the slight tremor in his hand.

“How is she doing?” His eyes remained fixed on his reflection, his voice calm with only the faintest tremble. “I need to remind her to clasp the back of her cape properly, else the whole thing hangs off-center. There are six buttons she has to do; three on each side. One of them is rather tricky - the holes are hidden in-”

“She is perfectly fine. Her maids will attend to her clothes. There’s no need to be concerned about a malfunction.” Gale waved him off dismissively, and Astarion sighed.

“Fine. Do you have the rings, at least?”

Gale patted his pocket. “Of course.”

“Be a dear and don’t lose them.”

Gale noted the irritability, but the nervousness behind Astarion’s tone was obvious. “I’ll try not to. If I do misplace them, however, don’t drink me dry, please?”

At Astarion’s irritated huff, Gale laughed and left him with a final quip of, “Don’t fiddle with your hair too much, Astarion, she may change her mind if she sees you with frizz. Positively hideous.”

They were both laughing as Gale exited, closing the door behind him.

They met in the gardens.

She walked down the small steps to see a figure in white, hair shining in the dying light of the sun. He was fidgeting with the buttons on his cuffs, huffing as he struggled to fit the buttons into the holes.

He was turned away from her, and did not notice her approach.

“Astarion?”

Her voice startled him, and he turned to face her. He swallowed anxiously, his Adam’s apple bobbing.

”Ban. Do you mind-” He held his sleeve up.

She approached him, taking his hand carefully and began to fit the buttons through. As she did she eyed him, meeting his gaze. He offered her a quick smile.

”Thank you.” He drew her close, hands settling around her waist to tug her to him. “I missed you.”

”It’s been…” she frowned, “less than eight hours since we last saw one another.”

”Doesn’t mean I can’t pine for my wife, does it?” He buried his face in the crook of her neck and exhaled, a long, drawn-out release of air that told her all she needed to know. “Even a minute of your absence is excruciating.”

She placed her hands on his back, rubbing gently. “You weren’t missing me. You’re nervous.” He raised his head, eyes narrowed. “Which is perfectly fine,” Ban added quickly before he could get a word in edgewise.

His brows smoothed out and he acknowledged her words with a stiff nod. “That does not mean both could not be true.”

”I guess you’re right.” She gently placed a hand on his cheek, watching the tension melt from his features as he leaned into the touch. “Any second thoughts? You still have time to say no, you know.”

“Of course not.” He scoffed, eyebrows knitting back together. “I disappear for a few hours, and you fill your head with the silliest of notions. Which of us can’t manage mere hours without the other, hm?”

”It was a joke.” She pecked his cheek.

His shoulders sagged and his features softened. “I am aware. It’s simply… difficult, comprehending being…” he threw both hands up, gesturing at them and the garden around them, “here. I never allowed myself the luxury of thinking of having a future at all - let alone this one.”

“Even during our adventuring days?”

Astarion pursed his lips, pensive. “At the start I assumed we would all part ways, or die.”

“Astarion,” Ban frowned, “we were seeing each other!”

“And I thought I was using you,” he answered without hesitating. “Later on there was the threat of Cazador and the Absolute, not to mention the rite itself. I did not have room to consider what life would be past those events.” He frowned and his eyes flicked away. “We’re both painfully aware of what happened after that, of course.”

“My love,” she murmured, the sobriquet slipping from her lips; she realized she never really used them, almost never outside sex. His eyes met hers, widening in surprise and then joy, and quietly chastised herself for not using them more. “I know. We both know. We’re also past that.”

He exhaled. “I am aware.” She could tell he was still tense, whether it be because of the mention of those six months, or the wedding itself. She placed a hand over his breast, felt the hammering there, and sighed.

Leaning forward, and on tiptoes, she kissed his cheek. “Look at me?”

He did so, a chagrined smile on his face. He dipped his head. “Just… nervous.”

“It’ll be fine. Nothing will change. It’s just a ceremony, a soiree, like any other, and that’s all it is. Paperwork. It doesn’t have to matter if you don’t want it to. If that helps calm your nerves.”

Astarion scanned her face, then shook his head. “I appreciate the sentiment, but we both know this isn’t mere theatrics to me. I refuse to belittle it that way.” He took a small, aborted breath. “So little of my life has meant anything. Let this mean something, Ban. Let me be nervous and excited. Let me feel this, because it means everything to me.”

His mind touched hers, disparate thoughts flitting through. Redemption, finally. Joy, that he had been chosen by her, wanted by her. Worthy to be the one waiting as she walked down the aisle. Worthy of being the man she’d bind herself to. Enough.

She smiled, her thumb tracing his cheekbone. “Of course it means something, and of course I want you to feel it as I do. I merely meant, well. If that sort of thinking would help ease your nerves, then it might be useful.” He leaned into her touch, eyes shuttering as his shoulders finally lowered. She drew in close, pressing their foreheads together; she on tiptoes and him bending down to accommodate her.

He exhaled, the warm air rushing over her face. She saw his lips part and kept her peace, waiting for him to speak.

“Thank you,” he finally mouthed, eyes still firmly shut. The hammering beneath her palm quieted some, and she pressed her lips to his.

There were flowers everywhere. Roses of every shade adorned each side of the aisle. The archway that they would stand under was just as she’d envisioned. She had known how it would look, had arranged everything with the florists, but seeing it all in its full glory as she peeked through a window sent a thrill down her spine.

Everyone she knew and loved was there, mingling as they prepared to take their seats - everyone save one. He was sequestered away, just as she was, in preparation for the ceremony. She caught a quick glimpse of Karlach fidgeting with her dress and Halsin looking uncomfortable in an old suit.

There was a knock at the door. She called out to an invitation to come in and it opened, revealing Wyll.

“The blushing bride.” He held out his arms and Ban stood for a tight hug.

As Wyll pulled away she looked out at the crowd, watching as they began to take their seats. “Who knew, hm?”

He stood beside her, crossing his arms. “Who knew, indeed.” He caught her gaze and offered a smile. “Shadowheart filled us in on everything that happened. A lot passes you by when you’re stuck in Avernus.”

“I don’t doubt that. Have you talked to Astarion?”

“A little, this morning.” Wyll ran a hand over a horn. “He seemed glad that I approached him, but his mind was elsewhere. I don’t blame him.”

“He’s happy you’re all here,” Ban offered. “I’m happy. I didn’t think I’d get to see you two again after the reunion.”

“In much happier circumstances, too,” he nodded. “We’re glad to be here. Perhaps the next wedding will be ours.”

Ban blinked twice. “Does Karlach know?”

He shook his head. “It won’t be anytime soon, but closer than she and everyone else thinks. I figure with our lives being so full of danger, she might want some time to settle after we’ve fixed her heart.”

“Well, if you need anything,” she said, clapping his shoulder, “you can always ask me. Or Astarion, for that matter.”

Wyll offered her another shy smile. “I’ll go ahead. Tell everyone to prepare. Shadowheart will come for you when it’s time.”

She nodded and Wyll left, leaving her to her thoughts. Not that there were any other than the present, the seconds seeming to tick by extremely slowly. Her mind wandered aimlessly, refusing to focus on any one thing for very long in an attempt to avoid thinking of how nervous she was starting to feel.

Ban had no idea how much time had passed, but it felt like mere seconds later when a bouquet was pressed onto her hands. Numerous people were suddenly checking her hair and makeup one last time and smoothing her dress into place. She took a nervous breath, keeping her eyes fixed upwards as she felt tears begin to pool. Crying would ruin the kohl.

“Take a deep breath.” Shadowheart’s hand on Ban’s shoulder startled her and she jerked, head snapping around to lock eyes with her friend.

“Is… Is it time?” Ban shuffled nervously, making sure to not step on the train of her gown.

“He’s waiting for you.” Shadowheart gathered most of the train, and they made their way out of the room. As they approached the main garden Ban swallowed; she could hear the music increasing in volume with every step.

She stopped in her tracks, Shadowheart almost tripping over the dress behind her. “I-” Ban turned to face her.

“This is it,” she choked out; tears filled her eyes and she blinked, trying to not let them fall. It shouldn’t matter, she told herself. It was a trite ceremony, and they were already eternally bound. She could think about the significance of it all later, when there were less eyes on her.

But she remembered his words, remembered him asking her to let it matter. She wanted to touch his mind, but they had agreed not to.

No cheating, he’d told her, after they’d had their final pre-wedding kiss earlier today. I want to feel it the way it was meant to be felt.

She’d understood what he meant. To experience it as if they were not vampires with a mental bond. As if they were just them.

Shadowheart approached her, carefully dabbing her tears away before they could spill. “We’ve faced worse, and you did it all fearlessly. You can do this.”

Ban nodded. “I know. I just…”

Feel it. She took one deep breath.

Shadowheart squeezed her hand one last time. “Walk as soon as your music starts.” She went ahead, taking her place next to Gale to walk down the aisle with him.

She stood there for a painful few minutes, hidden from view by a hedge. The music started, the song she’d picked for herself. Steeling her nerves, Ban took one last breath and walked to the aisle.

The setting sun hit her eyes first, blinding her for a moment. Her vision cleared and she saw the same roses, the same aisles, the same ivy-wrapped archway, but the seats were now full of people watching her. The music wasn’t quiet at all, but it was completely drowned out by her racing heart.

Her eyes locked onto that familiar glint of silver, the crimson of his eyes burning into her even from this distance. He had his hands clasped together, his face carefully neutral, shifting into an uncertain, boyish smile as their eyes met. Time froze. Nothing else mattered. Not Ulder standing by Astarion, not Gale holding the ring box in his hands. Not the music, nor the artists quickly sketching off to the side. Not the scent of roses or the blazing sunset. Not one other thing existed. Just him.

She took a step onto the red carpet. Then another. She could feel the slight drag of the train of her dress, requiring slightly more effort to place one foot in front of the other. She could feel the bite of the heeled shoes, a little tight, on her feet, and the subtle change in her posture to accommodate walking with an elevated heel. The feel of the satin ribbon holding the bouquet together contrasted with the rougher stems of the flowers it bound. The gown’s fabric slid against her body, shifting with every move.

Her mind registered all this, part of her begging to dwell on these trivial sensations, to hide behind her walls again.

We don’t cry. Not in public. Not like this. Not where everyone can see.

Her father’s words. Not hers.

Instead, she allowed herself to feel.

Every step brought her closer to the archway - to him. His smile was slightly wider now, but his eyes were wide and misty. She remembered everything - nights under the shelter of their tent, cuddled by the campfire, the soft press of his lips against her temple. Strong, slender fingers grasping her wrist, tugging her away from whatever trap she had missed in her rush. Those same capable hands undoing the straps of her breastplate, a small huff of annoyance as the armor snagged on her underclothes, tearing them, knowing those same hands would repair them later that same night. The scent of bergamot and rosemary, clinging to her clothes as they parted for the day, something she’d imagined she could still smell even under her armor. The sound of his voice, always the first one she sought out; his thoughts, his quips, even the playful little insults he’d throw her way.

Then more recently, their hands clasped in meetings, sly glances and hidden smirks as they mentally discussed the people they were making deals with. The press of his lithe body against hers as they twirled around the dance floor, leading her effortlessly. The heated kisses, his lips trailing a fiery path from her lips to her breasts, his hands tangled in hers. Breathless moans, whispered promises of eternal love - no longer only promises, but truth. Seeing his face every dawn, reaching across the bed and always finding him there, every time without fail, whether he was watching her or reading a book or sipping tea-

Astarion gave her a small, encouraging nod, and she smiled in return. The tears finally fell, wet as they traced a path down her cheeks, but she was beyond caring. She took a few more steps, bringing her closer to him - to her fate, to everything that had ever mattered and the only thing that ever truly would.

Hers. Hard-fought and almost lost, but hers now, for however long their immortal lives lasted - forever, she vowed, and even beyond.

She stopped. Faced him. He swallowed, his smile fading as he took a step towards her, his hand held out for hers. It was a gesture they’d made countless times, in countless ways - helping each other up in combat, in camp, at breakfasts and dinners and meetings and parties - but this felt like the first time. She placed her hand on his, feeling the skin under hers, smooth and trembling, but still the same. Always.

They stood side by side as Ulder recited the rites. None of it was anything she’d remember, she thought. Her eyes were on him, from the perfectly coiffed hair to the slightly-trembling hands clasped behind his back, to the embroidery on his shoes. She reached out, and to her relief he noticed and responded in kind, even though his eyes never left Ulder. His index finger touched her first, gently tracing the back of her hand. His lips curled at the corner, his eyes crinkling even as his gaze remained ahead. Ban slipped her hand into his and felt him squeeze.

“Do you, Lord Astarion Ancunín, take this woman to be your wedded wife?”

For the first time since the ceremony began his eyes moved over her. They were large, wet, and painfully beautiful. He shot her a grin before turning back to Ulder. “I do.” The hand holding hers was cold, and she fought back the urge to reach over and rub warmth back into it.

The same question was leveled at her. She met Ulder’s gaze while he spoke, but made sure her eyes were locked on Astarion’s as she uttered her response. His shoulders dropped almost imperceptibly at her words, eyes flicking downwards for the briefest of seconds, then settling back on her face.

Then Gale approached, the rings kept in a small, ornate box. He opened the lid, offering it up to Astarion, who nimbly took her ring in his hands. He playfully bounced the ring on his knuckle, to the crowd’s delight, then looked at her.

“I am not prone to… long speeches, or poetry, for that matter,” Astarion began, the ring passing between his thumb and index finger as he fidgeted with it. “Nor am I the kind of person who usually appreciates public declarations of love. However, with you I could enjoy anything, and that includes this.”

His hand drifted down, patting his hip anxiously. “You probably weren’t the best leader, likely not even the best companion - I’d wager Wyll wins out over everyone in that regard.”

Ulder laughed; Ban glanced over at Wyll, who gave her a small wink. Astarion continued. “Back then… you tended to make frankly foolhardy decisions - thought with your blade rather than your brain… except when it came to me. With me…” he paused, thinking, “you seemed to think with your heart. Yet another foolish thing to be doing at such a time, darling, but I very much appreciated it.”

“I cared little for you at the start. In truth I didn’t know how to care for anyone, and certainly didn’t think anyone could care for me… despite my dashing good looks.” He huffed out a high-pitched laugh, one she hadn’t heard in what felt like forever. He grew somber then, and continued. “But I quickly grew to love you. I grew to treasure every single moment we spent together, from camping out in the wilderness to the most mundane arguments about which vase would match the drapes. We’ve already lived through a lifetime’s worth of tribulations in our time together, but look at us.” He gestured at her and then himself. “We held on to one another, through every challenge. We have worked so hard to be the people we are today. To seize this happiness for ourselves and for one another.”

He ran a hand through his hair, mussing the curls as his fingers carded through them. “And while there’s little doubt we’ll run into more trouble, because of course,” he rolled his eyes. “I do so knowing that you will be with me for all of it. Knowing that my every sunrise and sunset will be spent with you. Knowing that…” his breath caught, and Ban squeezed his hand. He swallowed. “that after two centuries… I am finally enough, the way that I am. Perhaps quite a bit more than enough at times, darling,” he chuckled.

Astarion straightened up. “But now that I am enough… I stand here today and I vow to love you forever. For the rest of time, even when the sun burns out and we give ourselves to the night. When we face whatever lies beyond - I vow to love you then too.”

His hand took hers, slipping the ring onto her finger. It did not meet much resistance, the cold metal settling in place easily. They both looked down at it, at how it seemed to belong there, as if it had always been there but just out of sight.

Gale’s movement brought her back to the moment. The box was held out to her, and she took Astarion’s ring. It was larger than hers, heavier, with a slightly thicker band, and with engraving identical to hers. She looked at him and saw the same hunger in his eyes as the day she’d asked him to marry her, that ravenous need clear in the set of his features.

“I wasn’t… born for this. Not for any of it. My life was supposed to be one of quiet subservience, to be what I was raised to be. I left that behind, and then I thought my life would be one of unassuming simplicity. Not… not these gardens. Not this palace, or the journey we all had. Not immortality. Not you.” She bit her lip, a fang catching on it. “I think we were both done a great favor the day the nautiloid took us. It brought me to you, and you to me.”

“The way fate works is something I don’t pretend to comprehend. I don’t think any god looked kindly on us before that day,” she snuck a glance at Withers, who merely nodded, “but neither do I think it was mere chance. We were… meant to be here. Meant to meet, meant to go through everything we did and everything else we will encounter. Each meant for the other,” she added, watching his lips curl as he acknowledged her words.

“You waited far too long for me, while I did not have to wait long at all. There’s no compensation that can make up for all that,” and she shook her head as he opened his mouth, “but I hope that I can at least begin to… I don’t know, ease it.”

She looked down at the ring in her hand. It felt easier to say the words then, without meeting his gaze. “There are not enough words to express the depth of my love for you, and I fear there never will be. I have never been good at baring my heart, but if there was ever a moment to do so anyway it would be this one. I could say I love you more than anything I’ve ever loved in my life, and it would be true, but somehow it fails to express the sheer magnitude of my feelings for you.” She dared glance up to Astarion and was rewarded by an encouraging nod. “I vow from this day on to love you, to cherish you, and to see you. Even when it gets hard, even when it takes work to do so. I promise to do better, as you have done. I shall be your rock, your support, your comfort whenever you need me. Until the sun burns out, and through whatever lies beyond, I am yours. For as long as we exist, I vow to be your home, as you are mine.” She finally met his gaze and thanked herself for not fully looking up sooner. He looked so beautiful.

Astarion held his hand up, his fingers quivering visibly. He was smiling, but it was a bit frozen, almost forced in his anxious excitement. His eyes were too bright and wet, and she realized the trembling wasn’t just his hand but his whole body. She wanted nothing more than to wrap him in her arms and hide him away from everyone else, to keep him in the shelter of her embrace until his nervousness abated.

She slid the ring onto his finger.

Astarion cleared his throat. “Wrong finger,” he whispered, his voice cracking slightly. She stammered out a quick sorry, moving the ring from his middle to his ring finger.

The moment the ring slid home, Ulder spoke up. “It is with great honor that I pronounce you husband and wife. Lord Ancunín, you may kiss your beautiful bride.”

Instantly, Astarion wrapped an arm around her waist, tugging her close. He pressed their bodies together, and slipped his hands down, linking them under her ass. He gripped her tightly, lifting her up. She wound her hands around his neck, the silken fabric of his collar pleasant against her skin.

His mouth slotted against hers, his plush lips pressing against her own. Leaning into the kiss, she heard him groan softly as his tongue lapped at her lips, seeking entrance. She opened for him and the approving hum that answered her sent shivers down her spine. The feeling of his teeth catching her lower lip, dragging over it as he pulled gently, elicited a quiet moan from her. The sound of whistling from somewhere in the crowd broke through to her and she finally pulled away, embarrassed. He set her down but didn’t let go of her.

Astarion simpered for the crowd, but his eyes were still damp and round. He offered her his arm and she gratefully accepted, leaning against him as they walked back down the aisle, finally husband and wife.

Astarion sauntered over to where Ban stood in front of the enchanted mirror, fighting with the clasps of her capelet, approaching from behind. “Does my wife need aid?” His hands ran over her shoulders to the clasps.

“Probably,” she huffed. “I had so much trouble having them put on. No one really knows how to do it, other than you.”

They were working on their first outfit change of the day, and she knew there would be more. Astarion had insisted on doing so for some variety in the portraits that would be painted today, but Ban also thought it a good idea to convey a sense of decadence and power. She was beginning to regret the pragmatism in that decision, now that she had to deal with the reality of multiple complex and tedious dress changes in a single evening.

He hummed in response, fingers slipping under the ornamentation to undo the buttons. “At the very least they managed to put it on straight. I was worried.”

“Gale did say as much.”

They both watched their reflections as he easily unbuttoned one side, then did the other, allowing the cape to fall to the floor between them. He leaned forwards, placing a kiss on her bare shoulder.

“Do you require more assistance, my love?” he whispered against the shell of her ear.

Shivering, she turned. “I wouldn’t say no, but I’m surprised you’re offering. The day isn’t quite over yet, Astarion.”

“Is it not? We’re wedded,” he held up his left hand, ring glinting in the candlelight, “and we have more than two hours before the reception starts. I presume we could steal a few minutes.” He closed in, crowding her, foreheads almost touching. “It wouldn’t take long, surely.”

Ban shook her head, reaching back to begin untying the laces of her dress. “We have portraits to pose for. We don’t have time.” She would have loved to; a month apart ensured her resistance was thin, but in that moment her thoughts were with the wedding arrangements. “As much as I want to-”

The words died in her throat as he moaned in her ear, rolling his hips against her thigh. “Certainly it should be up to me when our game ends, don’t you agree, darling? Ten minutes,” he whispered, “is all I would need.”

“Astarion-”

“Please.”

That word and the needy, aggressive tone in his voice undid the last threads of her restraint. She growled, taking a step back to remove the rest of her outfit. His eyes tracked her every move as she stripped the gown off, shimmying out of it gracelessly, shoving it down to her legs and stepping out of it.

“On that table,” Astarion pointed, and she backed up to sit on its edge. He prowled towards her, eyes dark and very much hungry, still fully clothed. His hands parted her legs roughly as he knelt. Their eyes met and she swallowed.

“Ten minutes, Astarion,” she warned weakly.

A dark bark of amusement answered her. “Trust me. I require less than that.”

His hand made its way up her thigh, fingers dancing playfully. He kissed her knee, eyes still locked onto hers. The other hand wrapped around the back of her knee, fixing that leg in place.

“Be a good girl,” he purred, “and be quiet. We don’t want anyone,” he traced her folds through her underwear, then flicked her clit through the fabric, “hearing us, do we?”

“Or walking in.” She took a quick, cursory look. She was pretty sure the door had been locked so they could change; the likelihood of anyone walking in was low.

He sank his teeth into the meat of her thigh, lapping lazily at the blood that formed, then smirked. His thumb ran circles around her clit, no doubt feeling the wetness beginning to soak through the cloth. “That too.”

Her eyes were glued to him as he began kissing his way up her thigh, fangs scraping her skin. He mouthed at her core, the thin cloth leaving too little and yet too much in between his tongue and her. He drew back a hand to undo the buttons of his suit, but his mouth never left her.

She rolled her hips, an insistent, pleading gesture, one hand wrapping around the side of the table as she bit on the other to stifle a moan. He hooked a finger in her underwear, tugging the fabric aside to bare her glistening folds. Red eyes flicked to her face, and he looked ravenous. “I wager you now agree with my assessment?”

“Probably less than ten minutes, yes,” she said breathlessly. “Just please. Lick me.”

He nodded, his face perfectly neutral, as if they were merely talking about the weather. “I knew you’d come around.” Keeping his eyes on her, he licked her, his tongue laid flat, from her entrance all the way up, making sure to give her a firm flick where she needed it most.

Ban groaned, spreading her legs further, needing more. Astarion obliged, slipping two fingers into her without meeting any resistance. “You’re deliciously wet, darling. How long have you wanted this? Wanted my tongue on you, wanted me - my fingers or my tongue or my cock, any part of me - inside you?”

She bucked, fucking herself on his fingers helplessly. “Too long,” she whispered. “Far too long.”

“Then I shall reward your patience, my love.” Without another word he dove right back between her legs; his hand spread her open, his tongue running circles around her clit before finally wrapping his lips around it and suckling.

She whined, the sensation momentarily overwhelming, but then he shifted into gentle, loving licks. Even that was intense, her hand instinctively lowering over his head, about to fist into his curls, until she remembered they needed to keep them pristine for the reception. She saw his eyes crinkle at her movement, but his mouth and fingers never stopped their work.

His fingers pumped into her faster, curling to hit her spot with every pass. His tongue lapped harder, the delicious friction making her hips move of their own accord, grinding against him. The fingers spreading her open, the naked, sheer desire in those eyes eating up her every reaction, the way his hips moved desperately in rhythm with his fingers, and the tent in his trousers were sights to behold, sights she had not seen in far too long, and it brought her climax barreling towards her.

“Astarion,” she whimpered, his name a quiet supplication upon the altar of his tongue.

He growled, low and deep in his throat, dragging a fang across her clit. The vibration and the slight sting of his fang sent chills racing along her entire body. She fought the urge to arch, to allow her eyes to roll back, wanting to see it. To see him. Their eyes met, and he cockily raised a brow as he gave her one last, hard flick, perfectly timed with a hard thrust of his fingers.

She bit her hand, fangs inadvertently breaking skin, a loud, muffled scream emanating from her as she came. Her hips jerked and Astarion wrapped a hand around her hip, pressing her closer as he lapped up everything she had to give. As she slowly recovered he kept licking, seemingly unwilling to stop. She could still see his erection straining against his trousers, his hips still slowly rocking.

“I… fuck,” she finally managed to say. She put a hand on his shoulder, pushing gently, feeling slightly oversensitive.

Astarion let go, a lazy, satisfied smirk on his face. He wiped his mouth on his cravat, then tugged it off. “Plenty of time to spare, just as I expected.”

Still trembling, Ban barely managed an annoyed glare. She let her eyes stray to the bulge between his legs. “And what about you?”

He looked down, as if noticing his clearly painful erection for the first time. “I think I can wait a little longer.” He adjusted his trousers and took a slow, deep breath in an attempt to calm down. “I simply wanted to end your punishment.”

“As for myself,” he drew in close and kissed her, letting her taste herself on his tongue, “I figure I have all night, and eternity after that.”

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foreverisntenough · 1 day

Text

‘OURS’

Summary: You were his and he was yours but what would it be like adding one more? Thrust into a whirlwind romance you never could’ve imagined that became your forever love. You continue building a new life across the pond with a very beautiful Scouser. A sequel to the ‘You’re Mine’ fic.

Index: Chapter 1 - Size of A Plum

Warnings: This series will contain fluff, suggestion, smut (unprotected sex,) pregnancy, mention of the word ‘daddy,’ kind of angsty, alcohol consumption - not sure what else really… if i miss anything please lmk!

Note: Thank you for reading! Please be sure to like, comment, or message me what you think of the series! Try not to nitpick with any real pregnant logistics it’s better if you just read along happily :)

Chapter 2 - With a ‘U’ or an ‘O’ | ‘Ours’

Trent snuck downstairs carrying his laptop and he quietly crept into the office. He sat in the big chair leaning forward towards his Mac and hit print. He sat there impatiently waiting while trying to think of something cute he could write on the tickets he was printing. He figured it out eventually and jogged back up to your bedroom. Beams of morning light seeped into your bedroom through the window. You rubbed your eyes open to see that Trent was awake next to you. You smiled at your perfect boy in the bed.

“Morning, baby.” He cooed in a hoarse morning voice. The smirk on his face made your heart falter. You covered your embarrassed face with your thin pale pink manicured hands hiding from him. You muttered out a ‘morning’ interspersed between your giggles. Trent shook his head amused at the child-like action. “Happy Valentine’s Day, mummy to be.” He whispered, nuzzling his face into the nape of your neck, his hands caressing your stomach underneath your shirt. “Will you be my valentine, baby?” He whispered in your quiet room. You could feel his heart beating in sync with yours. Everything felt right. He pulled away from your neck to see the smile widening on your face. You rolled your eyes at him facetiously and nodded your head yes.

“You already know my answer. I always say yes, pretty boy” you draped your arms up around his neck and pressed soft kisses to his cheek.

“Want your surprise now or later?” He looked at you with a cheeky smile excited to show you.

“Hmmmm, I guess now sounds good.” You giggled eager to see what the surprise was. He said okay and reached over to his bedside table. He handed you a little card. One of the best things about Trent was his spontaneity. Despite his schedule and intense lifestyle he always managed to surprise you somehow. You opened a beautiful envelope. Inside were two plane tickets to the Maldives and a cute little note.

“Did you see one more in the envelope?” He cooed suspiciously. You peeked inside and there was a fake little tiny ticket for your baby he had printed. It was about half the size of a credit card so you missed it. You giggled. It was so cute he was already including your baby but also you couldn’t help but squeal about going on a holiday this summer just the two of you. No other boys, no crazy parties just you two together.

“Thank you baby! So so so much! I can’t wait.” You giggled, wrapping him a big hug. He gave you a kiss and you began your day. Although you didn’t have anything planned until that night. Trent was taking you out for dinner so after the pretty lazy day around the house you got dressed. You were going to a nice restaurant and landed on wearing a red Valentino mini skirt you were thrilled still fit you. You wore a gray sweater and a pair of black So Kate heels. It was fairly simple but lately getting dressed up was kind of bumming you out. Your changing body had you feeling insecure. You weren’t exactly ready to let go of your wardrobe once things really stopped fitting.

“C’mon little plum.” Trent cooed, he was referring to your baby after you had told him last night that was how big he or she was at the moment. He wrapped his arms around you standing behind your frame. His hands rubbed over your stomach. “You look beautiful, baby. Ready to go?” He cooed, placing kisses behind your ear. You hummed and grabbed your black Chanel flap bag. Trent had made a reservation at a restaurant you loved for Valentine’s Day. It was an expensive French brasserie he really didn’t care for but you absolutely loved. These were times that you knew he really would do anything just to make you smile, even endure watching you eat foie gras and escargot. To be fair, he was fine. Steak frites was actually something he liked so it worked in the end. You rubbed your smooth leg over his under the table as you sat discussing what you wanted to get for dessert. The whole dinner it was just about killing you that you couldn’t have wine anymore so sweets would have to do. From the moment you sat down it was apparent the waiter was a Liverpool fan. His face lit up when he saw Trent seated. Trent could tell as well. He was cordial but it was your night together so his focus was solely on you.

“Try this, T. It’s really really good.” You poked your fork into a tart holding up a bit for him to try. He gave you a love sick smile but said ‘no’ He didn’t want any because he was ‘in season’ so you shrugged it off. You bit a little of the piece you had offered him. Trent leaned over the table and took your fork from you abruptly popping the remaining piece of the tart on the utensil into his mouth. He cocked his head and gave a surprised face impressed with the taste. You raised your eyebrows at him feigning an annoyance that he changed his mind on trying it. “Oh now you want to try it?” You giggled. You fed him more of your dish and wiped the corner of his lips with your thumb unnecessarily wanting to glide your fingers over his perfect pout. He kept his hand on your thigh as you talked and talked about your future and gushed about how much you loved the other. It was another perfect date in the books of Y/N and Trent.

When you got into the car to head home, you leaned onto Trents shoulder as he drove. Wearing your once favorite heels was exhausting; you couldn’t wait to take them off so you sat barefoot now in the front seat next to him. Your arms wrapped around his bicep as he draped his hand over the steering wheel to drive. Your lips formed into a pout as you let go of his arm and brought your fingers to cradle his handsome face.

“Going to post me on your Instagram, valentine?” You giggled, squeezing his cheeks.

“Baby… I really don’t want to stir up the chaos. I can’t have you getting upset. You know you’re mine that’s what matters.” He tried to reason with you worried about the potential stress of peoples comments affecting you and your baby.

“You’re so dramatic, T! Just post me on your story at least! Tell everyone how much you love me! Pleeassse. It’ll be my Valentine’s Day gift” You giggled letting go of his arm to cross your own over your chest. He groaned, pulling into your driveway. He opened the door for you and let you climb onto his back. Trent carried you into the house as you held the Louboutin heels in your hand. When you got into the house he walked directly into the living room and gently plopped you on the couch. You couldn’t hold in your excitement seeing the coffee table in the room was filled with pink flowers. You pouted and reached out to pull Trent down into a hug. He sat next to you and leaned his head onto your shoulder as he began scrolling through the photos on his phone. He smiled, looking back on all the memories you had documented together.

“Okay, baby, fine. Not like a vacation to the Maldives isn’t a gift. Greedy girl” he feigned a look of defeat. Ultimately, both he and you knew he was never going to say no to anything you asked. You squealed, pressing a wet kiss on his cheek with a dramatic ‘mwah’ sound.

“My forever valentine” he mumbled under his breath as he typed it out over the instagram story. It was a picture of you two kissing in your back garden during a party, Trent’s hands on your ass, yours around his neck, bodies squished together. You loved that he picked such a PDA filled photo. It was a hot but mushy photo. You loved him so much. At the end do the day he didn’t care what people said about either of you online he just wanted everyone to know you were his and he was yours. You had posted a carousel in feed post on your own instagram. It was simple and not overtly showing him. A picture of your hand laced with his, a photo of your face squished onto his cheek on a plane, and a short video of you blowing him a kiss at Anfield. You captioned it ‘4 life 🤞’ with no tag. You smiled some more as you watched Trent jokingly roll his eyes before he hit post on his story. “By the way… this” he shook his phone at you. “Isn’t your gift, baby. Let’s be real.” He cooed. “Go ahead…see what you got.” he giggled seeing your eyes widen, really starting to inspect all the boxes in front of you.

“So if the surprise was the Maldives, then this is….?” You questioned him with a childish smile. You sat on the couch cuddled up close to him.

“This is because you’re my valentine, baby, and I love you very much.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead. He handed the gifts to you one at a time. An extra large Dior candle, tan Prada shearling slippers, Baccarat Rogue 540, Dior x Rimowa carry-on luggage for your Maldives trip, and the gold Bvlgari Serpenti Viper you’d been eyeing for months. It was all too much. He completely spoiled you.

“You don’t have to do so much every year you know?” You tried to tell him but both you and he knew he would never have holidays go any other way. You were so appreciative of everything but he didn’t need to, you’d love him just the same.

“Oh! One more, baby. For the valentine we’re waiting to meet.” He cooed, handing you a little box wrapped with a bow. You untied it carefully and lifted the lid. You opened it up and there was the tiniest cutest Moncler fleece coat that had little bear ears on the hood. It was so fucking cute. You pouted at him. “I saw it the other day and I just wanted them to have it. It was so fun shopping for them, baby. Everything is so small.”

“You… and it are so fucking cute, T.” You cooed back. He hummed picking up the the tiny jacket admiring how small it was. “I have somethings for you too by the way.” You giggled. You gave him some real gifts; an Assouline coffee table book of Formula 1, a pair of Prada sneakers, a Louis Vuitton silver monogram speaker, and a bunch of other things you knew he’d like. Gifts were definitely a love language in your house. The thing you most wanted to give him though was a bit more exciting in your opinion and probably would be mutually enjoyed. You pulled out one final bag cheekily. You gave it to him and he fumbled through the tissue paper. He pulled out a sexy Fleur Du Mal pink and red lace piece of lingerie.

“Oh yeah?” Trent’s eyes lit up. You hummed a ‘mmhmm’ you snatched it out of his hands, got up from the couch and scurried upstairs.

“Are you coming?!?!” You yelled back down to him. Trent puffed out some air and shook his head in disbelief at how perfect you were for him. He stood up with his cock already beginning to harden just from the thoughts about you in that little piece of fabric alone. When he walked into the bedroom you were on your knees sat back on your heels in the lingerie.

“Well C’mere baby. Lemme see you first.” He cooed, grabbing your hand to pull you off the bed. You stood up with a cheeky smile looking at him. He walked around you and sat himself down on your bed. He gestured for you to twirl and so you did. “I might need a picture of this one. So fucking sexy.” He groaned looking at you. His cock tenting in his trousers. You giggled and walked towards him. You placed your hands on both his knees and slid them up his thighs. In an instant you found both of you naked, yourself on top of him. Your face buried in his neck. You let out a quiet moan as his large hand caressed your thigh, the other helping guide his cock into your entrance.

“Mmm fuck T…” you whined against his skin as you sank further down his length. He didn’t give you much time to adjust, too eager to start so he snapped his hips up into you hitting your g spot instantaneously. He kept you on his lap on the bed with his arm wrapped tight around your waist. His perfect lips sucked bruises onto your skin. Groaning everytime you clenched tighter around him. He brought his hands to grip your asscheeks thrusting harder into you.

“You’re so fucking beautiful” he murmured moving to capture your lips in a sloppy messy heated kiss. You moaned when you tasted him. He continued fucking his cock up into you while his hands caressed your back untill he moved them around your sides and then up over you to your tits. He rolled both nipples between his fingers. Your thighs quivered, straddling him when he pinched them. “So fucking beautiful” he growled. Trent lifted his head to look at you. The wrecked expression almost knocked all the wind out of you. The knot of pleasure between his eyebrows and the darkening of his big brown eyes was stupidly attractive. You felt your clit throb. You shifted on top of him to get more contact. He grabbed your jaw to kiss you softly in contrast to his harsh thrusts. He stole your gasp from you when his lips pressed to yours. Trent loved when you were like this. Soft and obsequious on top of him. All you wanted to do was please him. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from how your tits bounced as you rode him desperately. His thumb smoothed over your raised nipple. He cursed feeling you clench again.

“Oh fuck T.. I love you. Feel so so fucking good. I’m all yours baby.” You whined. The tip of his cock hit the spot only he knew when he rolled his hips up into you. You arched your back until your tits pressed against him. The wave of your arousal made a mess of his cock and dripping down onto your sheets

“Most beautiful fucking girl. All fucking mine. Feel so good f’me.” You both could feel your highs fast approaching. He slid his hand between your two bodies and down to your clit. You tipped your head back and Trent took advantage of the space pressing his lips to your neck. He nibbled on your sensitive skin scraping his teeth against you, marking you as his. Every movement of his tongue on you made it harder and harder to think. You felt the knot in your stomach grow tighter as Trent’s fingers circled harshly on your clit. “Cum on my cock, baby. Be a good girl and cum f’me.” He grunted out. The pleasure started to be too much to control. Your pussy clenched tight around him as your body was filled with white hot pleasure. Your warm, wet, and tight walls become too much for Trent to manage. Swiftly he was twitching and fucking you full of his cum.

“Fuck T…” you whined feeling his thrusts continue but slow. He emptied himself with slow lazy pumps. You both were completely breathless as he stilled keeping his cum nestled inside you. You collapsed into him more and buried your face into his neck leaving wet kisses. “I’m sleepy…” you whispered with a childish giggle. Trent smiled, pressing a kiss to you. You both attempted to come back to earth. He rubbed his hands up and down your spine before gently pulling out of you, his cum leaking down the insides of your thighs.

“I got you, baby. I know.” He kissed your warm bare skin holding you tightly against him. The word around you didn’t exist anymore, the only thing was the two of you. You were exhausted from the love making. Your head rested back on the pillows, you let your eyes close as you breathed softly. The air was thick and warm. It smelt like sex. Trent let you lay on his naked chest feeling himself melt under your touch while your fingers toyed with his hair. Trent frowned and let out a boyish groan when you suddenly stopped.

“Nahh. C’mon, baby, please…” He whined, grabbing at your hand to place it back on his head. “Don’t stop.”

“Okay, greedy boy” the pet name sent shivers down his spine. He somehow managed to grip onto your body tighter then he already was. He loved when you babied him. “So need aren’t you?” You teased with a giggle continuing to play with his hair. He only responded with a hum comforted by your touch. He let his eyes close for a while as you continued to gently play, scratching his scalp gently every so often with your long nails. He was so comfortable like this. Being with you was his absolutely favorite place to be.

You laid in the cinema while Trent sat watching a Europa League match on the telly. He had an away game he needed to travel tomorrow for this weekend so you were taking advantage of your fleeting time together. He looked so cozy bundled in a jumper. You cuddled up next to him dragging your nails over his abs under his top. He purred at the feeling.

An article had come out recently that made you feel sick. Something about how Trent was conceded, disrespectful, a bunch of things he wasn’t and couldn’t have been further from. You weren’t even sure if Trent had read it. You hoped he didn’t. He knew it existed sure, but you put yourself through the pain of reading it in full, breaking your heart that much more. People could never know him the way you did but it upset you so much knowing not everyone saw that he was perfect the way you saw. They couldn’t see the pain behind his eyes reeling over a loss, they couldn’t see him having banter with you making dinner, they couldn’t see him coming home with flowers just because, they couldn’t see the hurt he felt reading twitter when people questioned his place in the England squad, they couldn’t see him rushing from the airport to your home after away matches to get back to you. You curled up next to him and felt safe. You were wrapped up in his arms and his scent. It was so familiar, it made your heart soften as he explained some controversial call in the match. Trent was a constant in your life that you always could count on. It hurt when he was hurting. No matter what it was, he was there for you and you wanted to be there for him. You hated that you couldn’t control what people said about him. Just the same as you knew the intricacies of Trent, he knew them about you. Trent knew you so well without even having to ask what you needed. He knew immediately what type of mood you were in. He knew your body language so well. In this moment, he knew you were comfortable. Something about laying on his chest made your heart slow. You knew this is what feeling safe felt like, this is what true love felt like, this is what home felt like.

Trent was down in Luton for an away match. He laid in his hotel room the night before and gave you one of many habitual calls whilst he was gone. You were laying in your shared bed back up north and the ache of missing him washed over you. He looked at you with his toned tanned torso on display. He was so unintentionally sexy. You were having a hard time not just begging for him right now. You were desperate for his attention but you opted to be a bit more subtle. Trent was on a rant about how pissed he was that a certain referee was officiating tomorrow. You pulled the tiny tank top you were in over your head and swiftly reached behind you to unclasp the lace bralette you had one. Your tits bounced being released.

“Baby, what are we doing?” Trent grappled with his words. He was taken aback by your show. He could feel the blood rush to his cock. He was a goner.

“I need to get ready for bed, T. Keep telling your story.” You teased gesturing for him to go on. You were completely naked now in front of him. Trent found it hard to control himself. You grabbed your boobs, massaging them and playing with your nipples playfully with the hope of seducing him.

“If I play poorly tomorrow this is on you.” Trent said gawking at your hardening nipples. You usually tried to abstain from any messing about days before matches but it was only Luton. He reached for his cock and began stroking his length as he watched you.

“I will make a public statement apologizing for my hand in your form although to be fair… it’s your hand not mine.” He said as your eyes widened seeing his perfect cock stand at attention for you. He rolled his eyes but let out a groan when you sat further back opening your legs for him giving a sly smile.

“Fuck, baby. You’re driving me crazy. You’re so fucking fit.” he moaned as you ran your hands down your body and back up to caress your tits playing with your hardened nipples. “Such a fucking tease, pretty girl.” Trent’s mouth was agape in disbelief staring at your body as you continued dragging your fingers up before sucking on them being incredibly messy, spit pooling in the corners of your mouth, showing him as you licked around them like you would if it was him. He started to tug on his cock some more. You brought your wet fingers down to circle slowly and hard on your clit. You moaned as you picked up your pace.

“Fuck T, I miss you... I-fuck.. I need you.” you whined at the feeling of your quick pace dreaming it could be him. Your brain went fuzzy as your glassy eyes watched Trent work his big hard cock. You bit your lip. You wished he was with you with his hands on you but that couldn’t happen so this was the next best thing and it was feeling really fucking good. You loved the way his gaze felt on you. It was impossible for Trent to get tired of looking at your delicate body. Frankly, he probably could cum just seeing you and knowing you were pregnant with his baby was just doing different things for him.

“Be a good girl and cum f’me” he was barely able to grunt out the words completely enamored by the noises coming from you through his phone that he missed so much. You felt the knot in your stomach snap quick, cumming messily over your own hand. “That’s it baby, feels so fu-fucking good” he shuddered. “Shit baby, I’m gonna cum as well.” He said before he released onto his abs, breathing incredibly hard, eyes shut. You stayed on the phone for a while after cleaning up. Chatting about anything and nothing at the same time.

“Night, my beautiful girl. I’ll see you and our little baby tomorrow night.” You hummed and blew him a kiss. Trent hated watching you grab onto the little teddy bear he gave you before he went to the Euros. You always slept with it when he was away. He was embarrassingly envious of a teddy bear that got to be with you every night. Trent was supposed to be with you in bed not in some stupid hotel alone but work was work. When he came home the next day after winning his match you were long asleep. You watched the final whistle blow but after that you curled up in your bed. You tried your best to wait up for him but by the bedside lamp still left on it was obvious you had failed. Trent slowly crept into your bedroom and pouted at how cute you looked cuddled up in the bed. He turned off the lights and glared at the teddy bear tossed on his side of the bed. He picked it up and made a face moving it. He carefully got in to bed, replacing the bear next to you under the covers. He cozied up wrapping his arms around you pulling your body to him, laying his head on to your chest. You hummed sleepily but didn’t have enough strength to fully wake. You knew it was him. He listened to your beating heart as he placed his hand over your stomach where the two of you's baby was. The feeling of your warm skin made him melt. He was so in love with every inch of you.

“Okay. I’m going to have you lay back for me and we’ll put the gel on your stomach, it’ll be a little cold.” You nodded and laid back feeling the cool gel on your warm skin. You sat on the table at the doctor's office and watched Trent anxiously bouncing his leg up and down. He couldn’t take his eyes off the monitor. “Here is your little baby.” she cooed with a smile as the ultrasound wand stilled on your stomach. She clicked a photo. “Here is their heartbeat.” The sound filled the room. It was so quiet in there, you could hear the whooshing sound of your baby’s heartbeat .

“Oh my god...” you whispered in utter shock. Your hand covered your mouth. It was so real and surreal at the same time. Trent took your hand away from your mouth and brought it to his lips placing a kiss on your knuckles. He laid his head next to yours on the bed watching your baby with you. You noticed how Trent held his breath as the nurse asked if you were ready to know the gender. It made you smile knowing he was nervous too.

“And you are having….” The nurse drew out painful seconds as your anxiety skyrocketed. “Congratulations! You’re going to have a little girl.” She cooed sweetly. Tears appeared in the corners of your eyes. The love in Trent’s broke your heart in the best way. Unbeknownst to you, he really liked the idea of having a daughter.

“Holy shit, baby.” He finally let out the deep breath he’d been holding. Tears built in his eyes just the same. “We’re having a little girl.” He pouted, pressing a kiss to your lips.

“Yeah, T… a little baby girl.” You beamed, pulling him down to squeeze him in a tight hug. He held onto you while the doctor printed out the photos of the scan.

“Doing okay, beautiful?” Trent asked as he drove you home. You were holding the images inspecting your little girl. He stretched his hand over to you to rub your stomach. You hummed with a childish smile still a little in shock, you finally knew what you were having.

“For you mummy.” You were sat in the living room days later when Trent came home from training with a big bouquet of pink roses for you. You giggled while taking them. They were beautiful and unnecessary but they did make you happy. He sat down next to you and changed the channel from what you were currently watching.

“Excuse me!?! Mummy was watching that.” You kept giggling trying to grab the remote back from him. He laughed holding it further away from you until you huffed giving up so he handed it back to you before pulling you into his embrace. You laid cuddled up to him and left what he had changed the TV to on, you really didn’t care.

“So mummy…” Trent giggled. “Is it mummy with a ‘U’ or an ‘O’ for you?” You hadn’t really thought about it. You guessed your daughter would have a different accent than yours. She would spell things differently than you do. “Just so you know, it will be a ‘U’ in this house. She will say mummy. Not having any mOOmmy nonsense” He dramatized an American pronunciation of the word and gave you a feigned stern face. You didn’t notice but maybe over the years you’d been living abroad your own accent started to change or mend. Your choice of words definitely started to shift to a more British vernacular.

“I guess it’ll be a ‘U’ then.” You giggled leaning back onto him. “Mummy” you mockingly said in a poor attempt to replicate Trent’s scouse accent. He squeezed you tight and you cozied up to him a little more. You watched tv for a while longer until you needed to get a worry you had that starting to plague you off your chest. “T…” you sheepishly called out looking up at him. “Are you upset we’re having a girl?” You asked timidly. It had been bothering you since you found out the gender. He seemed happy but you always knew a dream of his was to play footie with a son.

“No?” He laughed a little confused why you would think that. He rubbed his hands up your sides. “The two most beautiful girls in the world are going to be all mine.” He cooed. It was cute he thought that. It was an incredibly overzealous statement but cute nevertheless.

“I hope she looks just like her daddy.” You giggled pulling at his pouty bottom lip. He smiled imagining having a little twin. “I think I know what I want to name her, T.”

“Oh yeah? What are you thinking?” He smiled at you. He thought his heart was going to beat out of his chest. You leaned over you cupped your hand around his ear and whispered like someone else could possibly hear. You told him the name you were thinking and his eyes welled. “It’s perfect. Baby… I’m so thankful that you’re giving me a little girl, giving us a daughter. I can’t explain how amazing this whole thing has been already.”He cooed.

“T… you got me pregnant. I didn’t have much choice in the matter.” You teased giggling but he just squeezed you a little tighter to him sincerely. “I’m kidding, pretty boy. I love you and I already love our little girl so much” You cooed.

“I love my two girls. No one else in this world I’d want to start a family with.” He whispered as you continued watching TV.

“Are you going to make her play footie?” You laughed interrupting his focus on the program. Imagining your baby girl playing with Trent had your heart practically shattering. It was so adorable.

“Up to her, innit?” Trent cooed but he couldn’t help but visualize teaching his kids how to play. His eyes followed something on the screen then they fixed on you. He tilted his head and looked at you squinting his eyes. He smiled examining and memorizing every bit of your face. “C’mere,” he pulled you further into him. “You’re so gorgeous. Going to be the best mummy to her.” He pressed his soft lips against yours and you blissfully hummed. “That’s said with a ‘U’ by the way.” You both laughed clinging to the other.

“We have to make a plan to tell everyone soon, T…” you cooed as you laid in bed later that night. When your bump had begun to start show just a little Trent couldn’t stop documenting the growth. To be fair neither could you but it was cute he was doing it too. His camera roll was filled with pictures of you but as the bump started to form, the time of being able to hide it was starting to dwindle. Honestly it was hardy notable at the moment but you were always pretty fit and lived with a professional athlete so people might’ve started questioning if your body began to change.

“I know, baby. I think after we win the league. We could have a little party to announce her.” He whispered to you, spooning under the covers. Time flew and somehow you were nearing the end of the season and your little plum had grown into a grapefruit.

“Oh, feeling confident aren’t we?” You giggled. Liverpool had a great season. They were 5 points clear with a game in hand so you were merely teasing Trent. “Seriously though, are you sure? Maybe we should do something separate. I don’t want to take away from your accomplishment, baby.” You whispered softly back in the dark room.

“We’ll split it up if that makes you feel better but I wouldn’t mind. Maybe just our immediate families. I wanted to invite your family for the end of the season as well regardless.” He kept talking, continuing to brush his warm hands over you. You hummed, preferring that plan. It was sweet Trent wanted your family to come visit, baby announcement or not.

Marcel and George were over and the three boys were in the cinema watching another team’s prem game debating the controversial point deduction of a team about to get relegated. You had been feeling particularly lethargic that day. You walked into the room and the two two boys turned to acknowledge you and say hi still oblivious to the fact that you were pregnant. Trent turned to see you and his face softened. He held his arms out for you to come sit with him. You laid next to his strong body and wrapped your arms around him but weren’t comfortable enough like that. You pulled his shirt up and laid on his bare abs and chest. The heat radiating off his skin comforting your tired body. He chuckled at your need to be so close to him but he didn’t mind. He didn’t exactly have a body anyone would be scared to show off. You pressed your cheek on his warm skin and closed your eyes. Not to sleep, you just wanted to relax.

“Don’t want to watch, pretty girl?” He whispered quietly into your hair. You shook your head ‘no.’ Your one dainty hand was sprawled across Trent’s chest and he played around with each finger for a while as he watched the game occasionally talking with Marcel and George about it. “Can I get you anything?” He whispered again, tracing shapes on your back with his other hand. You smiled but shook your head ‘no’ again. Frankly you wouldn’t mind a water but laying on him right now was the priority. It felt so perfect, you’d rather die of dehydration than leave the man beneath you. A little while later another question came. “Can I do anything for you, baby?” He was so attentive. It made you feel like nothing could ever go wrong because he would handle every little thing but you took a second to really think about his question.

“A kiss would be good.” You whispered giggling not being able to come up with anything more he could possibly do for you. You moved your face towards his and pursed your lips for a kiss

“I can do that for you, pretty girl.” He leaned into you with his soft plump lips. The kiss sent electricity through your whole body. You always wondered what people meant when they said they only had eyes for one person. This was it, like right now you didn’t even know Marcel and George were still in the room. You only had eyes for him, the rest of the world blurred. This is what love was. Right here with this boy. You pulled away with a big big smile.

“I always think it isn't possible for you two to continue to get more nauseating and yet here we are.” Marcel’s voice broke your eyes only for Trent reminding you they were very much in the room. You giggled and pressed another kiss to Trent’s lips while holding up a middle finger towards Marcel.

It got late so you went upstairs to shower, Marcel and George went home, and Trent stayed put in the cinema when he decided to FaceTime Jude. You weren’t totally sure how they even managed conversations with each other because they both yapped so much. How could one possibly get a word in over the other. Their friendship was really cute and you loved Jude. It just was a little funny when you did hear them converse. It was fast and chaotic, filled with inside jokes, riddled with stupidity and intellect all at the same time. They talked and talked; football, friends, upcoming England duties, general gossip, filling each other in on family. Although the latter topic was when things took a turn.

“Yeah we’ve been staying in a lot more. Y/N’s almost 4 months now so taking it pretty easy up here, mate.” Trent laughed and then stopped instantly when he saw Jude’s eyes widen, his face fall into complete shock.

“Erm, bro, what…?” Jude muttered out absolutely shaken. To be fair Jude was younger than you two so the thought of a baby in his mind was not only terrifying but it was hard to not think it was likely unplanned and a mistake.

“Fuck! You can’t say anything. Serious Jude, not a fucking word.” Trent rambled quickly starting to panic. He sat up more in his seat and ran his hand over his head.

“I won’t, I won’t mate. Are you serious though? Did you plan this? Does anyone know?” Jude rattled back just as fast but his surprised face dropped into one of concern.

“Yeah, we had been trying. Definitely a planned thing.” Trent laughed. “No one knows yet we haven’t told anyone. We wanted to make sure the baby and her were healthy and all that. Bro, I’m so serious you cannot say a word until we let everyone else know.”

“Course. Wow. Congratulations Trentski. That’s fucking mad. I’m really happy for you lot.” Jude giggled a little flustered by the news he just unearthed.

“Yeah, I’m absolutely buzzing. We’re so excited. Y/N is doing well so far and we just found out we’re having a little girl so I’m fucking gassed.”

“Ayye! That’s sick, mate. Congratulations, really. So you're naming her Judy right?” Jude teased but definitely laced with a bit of seriousness he hoped he’d be involved in his best friend's baby’s life somehow.

“Yeah, obviously. First name that came to my mind when I looked at the image of my beautiful baby girl and Y/N.” Trent joked sarcastically laughing. “Thank you though. Shit! Y/N is going to kill me that I told you. How do I tell her you know?” He started to worry. Jude laughed at his panic. Trent didn’t need to fret really, Jude wasn’t going to tell anyone.

“Just tell her it was important I knew because you’re naming her after me. Simple as.” Jude laughed. Trent rolled his eyes.

•

Thank you for reading! Please like, comment, or message what you think of the chapter … 🤍

Next part - Chapter 3 xx

#trent alexander arnold x reader #trent alexander arnold #trent alexander arnold imagines #taa x reader #taa66 #oursfic

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adiralovespercyjackson · 1 day

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Would you still love me if I was a worm?

Percy Jackson x gn!reader

Summary: Percy is dating Annabeth (love percabeth). But reader is swept away by Percy and can't help their feelings. Eventually, they talk and start dating. Everyone is suddenly distant to reader bc they ruined the best ship. Reader is insecure but Percy would gladly spend all his life reassuring them.

Fluff 💙💙🪼🌊🔱⚜️

On the radio~

🪼🪼🪼🪼🪼🪼🪼🪼🪼🪼🪼🪼🪼🪼

(1st person)

There goes Percabeth, I thought bitterly. I have always had a crush on percy, but Annabeth got to him first. I didn't have anything against Annabeth, I just thought it was unfair. Unfair because I lost. "Y/n!" I had most the whole world tuned out as I read my book, sitting at a random bench near the lake, the sun hiting bare shoulders since I was just wearing a bikini, trying to tan. "Y/n!" oh. They're talking to me. Great. I looked up to see Percy's toned figure and sea-green eyes staring back at me with a bright smile. "Oh. Hey, Perce," I put on a fake smile as I speak. "Sorry, I tuned you out!" "No worries! Happens to the best of us, " he said, smiling. "What's up?" I could've sworn he had checked me out, but I wasn't so sure. "Oh yknow, trying to get a tan, reading, the usual." I said. "Oh, alright. Have fun!" he said, about to leave. "Wait! Perce!" I said, Calling out to him before could leave. Percy didn't say anything, he just waited for me to speak. "I... I know that you are dating Anna, an you guys are best best couple I've ever seen, but- but I like you..." I looked up Percy to see him staring at me in shock. "W-well...Im not dating Annabeth anymore..." he said. "Wait wha-" I was shocked at the least. "We decided to stick as friends because she is going through a sexuality crisis," he seemed calm but almost nervous and jittery at the same time. "I like you too, Y/n. Maybe we can date?..." he looked at me hopefully. "Of course!" she said, wanting to scream in joy.

(3rd person)

Fast forward to a couple months later. They decide to go public with their relationship and now a majority of her friends we're way more distant. Her stuff is often vandalized with words like 'slut!' and 'homewrecker'. People often spread rumours about her when she wasn't listening— when they thought she wasnt listening. He never voiced this to Percy, for multiple reasons. One, what if they're right? Is she a slut and a homewrecker? Would Percy stop loving her if he saw a different perspective? Two, what if he didn't care or didn't believe her? What would she do then? She also has always feel insecure about her body and just herself in general. Would Percy not like her if she wasn't confident? She needs to stop being an ugly coward. The two of them were actually on a date right now, and they were sitting on the beach. "Baby, what's wrong?" Percy asked, clearly concerned for his beautiful girlfriend. "Oh. Nothing..." she said, putting on a heavily fake smile. "Y/n L/n, my love, my girl, darling. Please don't lie to me." he said. He might have the nickname 'seaweed brain', but he wasn't an idiot. "I'm sorry for ruining it." she started sniffling. "For what?" Percy was genuinely confused, his beloved, beautiful, girlfriend couldn't possibly do any wrong. "Ruining your relationship." she was sobbing into his chest, the sea-salty scent blanketing her in a comforting warmth. "Baby.... No..... You didn't do anything." he lifted her chin with his index finger. "We broke up before you confessed, remember?" "oh...." she said, feeling stupider than usual. "Am I a slut?..." she asked. Percy's eyes widened and he tackled her into a hug, spooning her while laying in the sand. "Who told you that?" he asked, his voice suddenly becoming protective and menacing. "E-everyone..." she said quietly. "Everyone spreads rumours about me and calls me name. In front of me and behind my back. They say that I ruined you and Annabeths relationship." she sighed into his arm. "I'm ugly and not confident. Why do you like me?" Percy audibly gasped at this, his precious is none of those things. "You aren't any of these things. You may act and look different than others, but no one looks the exact same. You are gorgeous, if not in your eyes, in mine. I chose to date you for a reason." he hugged her tighter in a slightly possessive way. "Mine." he said, his voice muffled since his face was burried in her neck.

#percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #percy jackson x reader #pjo hoo toa #pjo fanfic

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natt-writes · 2 days

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~5 Writing tips that actually help~

(These tips are meant for fiction books, especially fantasy. so if you’re writing nonfiction a decent amount of these won’t apply to you. Sorry!)

Find your writing voice.

one of the biggest issues I find in things written by beginners is a lack of emotional connection with the narration. Sure the story can be great, but without personality, without looks into the characters minds, without little quips here and there, it really isn’t all that interesting. Something that really helped me to realize this was a book called the tragical tale of birdie bloom. It’s a kids book but it honestly has such a good narrator (and storyline tbh) that you can look past the little kiddy-ness. I recommend you check the book out if you’re looking for some inspiration. I will be making a post about how to develop your writing and character voices soon so if you want some extra help with that, stay tuned!

2. Get to know your characters.

I know that you all probably already know this, but characters are one of, if not the most important part of a book. Readers don’t want to read about a flat, boring character who just feels like a vessel for the horrifying amount of trauma you add to your story. They want to read about people that feel real, people with flaws and feelings and hobbies and backstories. When I wanted to develop my characters I started going through the drafts, the plot outlines, everything and seeing what the characters did, said, felt. Then I took their basic backstory and started lining things up. Like if a character decided to get into a fight with another character, I would see what had happened to them that might have caused this. Maybe they had been abused as a child and thought that any disagreement meant they had to fight for their life. Maybe this person reminded them of a former enemy. After you start to figure out what connects the characters to the big plot points, you can then start to develop subtle things. You could start writing something, realize this situation would have triggered a character, and then drop subtle hints towards them feeling uncomfortable. Go nuts with it, after all you can never over-analyze a character.

3. Describe things uniquely.

Descriptions are what help us to understand what’s going on in a scene. They can tell us about the tasty drink a character is enjoying, the slick dress that someone is wearing or the way a characters muscles tense when a certain someone enters the room. But sometimes descriptions a fall a bit flat and that can ruin the experience for the reader. Something I always try to remember is to try and come up with new words describe something, for example; “her eyes were a beautiful shade of brown.” Is a very basic and over used description, instead you could try; “her eyes sparkled as she sat across from me, gleaming a rich chocolate shade as the light from the candles reflected off of them”. This is a much stronger sentence as it gives both environment hits and a description of the eyes, all while staying away from overused terms. I often see this theme in stories written by beginners, things being described in a very straight forward manner. And of course this is ok once in a while, especially if this isn’t a very important topic, but it still sounds better when you branch away from that basic sentence structure. I always like to use descriptive sentences to push things forward. Here is another example; “she was wearing a fluffy green dress with lots of lace. She walked over to the door and opened it.” Vs “the lacy trim of her green dress dragged on the floor as she walked towards the door. She smiled wide as she held it open, inviting her guests into the building.” Making strong sentences is very important, so please toy around with different words, structures, etc, until the sentence fits the type of book you’re trying to write.

4. Make trauma realistic.

Yes, even if you’re writing a fantasy book, characters experiences have to be realistic. Something that always gets on my nerves is when writers come up with a good idea for some trauma, so they just give to a character, even when it doesn’t suit them at all. if you are going to give a character trauma you need to explain it, set it up so it actually fits into their character arc, then have the character actually be affected by it. They can’t just randomly be like “I got shot by a dude.” And that’s it if there is no way that character could have gotten shot given their life experiences. Also if you want a character to be relatively unaffected after an extremely traumatic event you have to plan it out so that they have a specific and consistent trauma response that makes them not react shortly after an event like that. Characters are supposed to be like people, and no two people react to trauma the same way, so you do have some leeway if necessary, but people also don’t just stay the same after something horrible happens, they are affected by it and that has to be accurately portrayed. This does get easier the more you get to know the characters though, as soon you will know how they react to things and how to plan trauma that suits them.

5. Make a plot outline.

I cannot stress this enough, make a plot outline. Making a plot outline literally saved my book, and they are really easy to make! I recommend you download a spreadsheet app like XL spreadsheets or Apple numbers but you could even use google docs if you want. You want to put in all the chapters and then give each chapter at least six spots to write scenes. Add a spot for adding the main event of the chapter/a summery of what you have to write. This will help you to understand what you have to write for that chapter and how it fits into the next chapter. After that you start to fill all the scene boxes in with your plot information. Having a plot outline is great as it can be super vague and messy, but still hold all your ideas. It also helps to prevent unnecessary rewrites later, as you can just edit the plot outline before you start writing the first draft. You can even make a plot outline after you’ve started writing your book. That’s what I did and I promise, it still is very helpful. (Example of a plot outline below.)

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purgemarchlockdown · 3 days

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Ah what the heck I'll post it through here

So in some discord servers, you've seen me specualte that Amane's uniform is inspired by the private Catholic Fukuoka Kaisei girl's school affiliated primary school (福岡海星女子学院附属小学校)

Now, because of the name, I assumed this was an all girls primary school And that the picture above was of 4 girls and the school simply allowed children to wear either skirts or shorts (its uncommon for Japanese elementary schools to have uniform to begin with so I could see a laxer dress code when it comes to stuff like this)

However After a bit more reading of their website Turns out that the Fukuoka Kaisei girl's school affiliated primary school Despite the name Has in fact been a co-ed/mixed gender primary school for the last 50-so years And while I can't find a dress code on their website It does seem like all the students in pictures on their site who wear shorts are boys

Anyway to cut a long story short: Amane's uniform actually resembles the boys one more than the girls (shorts instead of skirt + no ribbon + more central buttons)

And I know you like the trans girl Amane theory so I figured you'd enjoy this info

The only disclaimer I have to give is that the long haired child whose father tattles on Amane is in the same uniform (shorts and all)

So like if this is a girl then occam's razor is that girls at Amane's school just wear shorts (also it'd be strange for Amane's cult to follow gender rolls Except for hair?? idk maybe im overthinking)

TRANS AMANE BELIEVERS WE MIGHT STAY WINNING!!!! It would be weird if they did follow the entire dress code Except for the hair. Additionally those buttons are tripping me up since their Buttoned like the girls so this actually comes somewhere more in the middle of the Both of them...if it does turn out my insane "Amane perceives gender in the same way a cat does, it's just there" catthing Amane idea is real I'm going to explode.

Regarding the girl though...I can't believe I can unveil my insane Queer Infighting Amane idea- okay so in cults it's generally heavily encouraged to outright spy and tattle on people who misbehave:

(BITE)

Information Control: Encourage spying on other members a. Impose a buddy system to monitor and control member b. Report deviant thoughts, feelings and actions to leadership c. Ensure that individual behavior is monitored by group

I think, and this is pure speculation there's is very little supporting this I just like the idea. It be fun if they were BOTH trans.

My reasoning behind this is, first of all Amane doesn't seem to have many friends. Her T2 distorted voiceline has her say:

Father is a very praiseworthy person. Once his virtue increases, he'll come back home, right? It's a little lonely, but I'm fine!

Which, okay it's fair that her homelife is lonely, this doesn't necessarily inform her school life. But if we go to the Prison she's rather isolated overall.

Even in T1. Yuno and Mahiru are people she considers "close" but that's after mulling it over a bit due to being asked.

T1Q10: Is there any prisoner you're close with? A: If I were to say, I guess it would be Yuno and Mahiru.

It's not for a lack of Trying, she tries very hard actually. It's just that people tend to note the way she acts is weird and that gets exasperated in T2 where it's said she's pretty isolated.

But also, I was discussing with a mutual about her relation with this peer and they said that it's possible that this question:

T2Q11: Did you love the person you killed? A: I loved them.

Is referring to a Second Victim (This child) and Not her mother because...well one Amane has shown Very Little Fondness for her mother, and two it's entirely possible she killed multiple people because her staff in Purge March has blood on it Before she gets to her house.

Second thing: Cat Symbolism, Cat Symbolism stay winning forever. There is substantial amount of subtext you can wring out of the Cat being representative of sin and impurity, and Amane taking care of it and also being the Cat. Same with having her be "found out" by a peer and then sold out to, to her Religious Fundamentalist parents.

So now we go into my insane, circumstantial evidence, idea of Queer Infighting. I love WKTD and a big thing in that game is that even if your a "bad kid" if there's someone "worse" than you, you can live another day. And this kid can be anyone, the devil can be Anyone.

Amane has stated an inability to be a good girl:

Only if, only if, only if I could be a good girl

And a lack of desire to exactly "be one" since it requires her not being...herself, and she's happy with who she is.

T2Q20: How do you feel about you not being like everyone else? A: Nevertheless I was born as myself, so I'm happy

So, I'm just saying on a purely speculatory "this would be fun" basis. If we got queer infighting 12 year olds who are trying their best to be "good." I would explode.

Also, she is paralleled with both Mukuhara Kazui and known Genderless Freak Es so, yknow.

#asks #other analysis #doctorbunny #sorry if this is all over the place I have a lot of disconnected thoughts on this

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joshuamj · 3 months

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I am so excited for the Magnus Protocol yall dont understand

#the magnus protocol #tmagp #alice dyer #sam khalid #samama khalid #tmagp spoilers #the magnus protocol spoilers #< i mean not really but still just in case #josh art tag #i love sam and alice sm already #and i like my sam design but idk about alice #for the life of me i could not figure out what she would wear #magnuspod

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dante-mightdie · 30 days

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A small req? Wheree we're a milf and our incel son eventually joins the military (you choose if he joins the military or meets at a bar I ain't gaf) and meets Ghost, 141 whatever. He brings Ghost home to his basement room(or the 141 bb do whatever you want) and ghost is surprised n shi that we this incel momma when we com with snacks or something like 'get outta here mom you're embarrassing me Infront of my new friends!" Is our sons reaction or sum. And ghostie pookie excuses himself up to the bathroom to sloppily makeout with us 🥺

nobody look at me i’m foaming at the mouth

c/w: simon is kinda strange but in a weird sexy way, mentions of misogyny, talks of sex must no actual smut, housewife kink kinda

it’s no secret that your son is a nasty little misogynistic shit. everyone on base has had the experience of standing next to him on a night as out when he gets a drink thrown in his face by whatever girl is he was chatting to

they’d been there every time he dogs out in front of everyone when you visit him on base. watching your eyes well up when your son tells you that he doesn’t like your new haircut or dress, that you’re too old to wear stuff like that

simon tried not to judge, appearances can be deceiving. perhaps you’re not all smiles and baked goods, maybe you’re an awful mother behind the scenes. he really tried. until he found out the real reason your son treats you like shit…

“she made my dad leave. he told me after they divorced that she wasn’t giving him what he needed, that’s why he had to go and get it somewhere else.” your son finally admitted one night after going through half case of beer

simon felt his hand tighten around his bottle as your son continued to ramble about how you were always busy with shit jobs. waitressing, cleaning or retail. he spent most of his childhood never getting all the latest toys and clothes because you could never afford it, too busy catching up on late bills to make sure there was a roof over both of your heads

“she’s so selfish.”

‘fuck being non-judgmental’ simon thinks. this kid doesn’t know how lucky he is. having a such a lovely mum like you, never losing your patience with your son even when he treats you like dirt. always trying to greet him with a hug or kiss just for him to push you away. begging him to call when he’s away just so you can know your boy is safe :(

“sounds like your mad at your mum for being the one that stuck around, lad.” price buts in, shaking his head with a small laugh.

you had been a topic of discussion the night after your first visit to the base. the product of a few glasses of bourbon shared between simon and john

“did you see the new recruits mother? fuckin’ hell, if I were 10 years younger I’d be all over that.” price admitted, adjusting his hips as he leaned back in his desk chair. simon let out a small grunt of agreement, having thought about this since he first laid eyes on you

simon had come to the conclusion that you both just needed a good man in your life. your son needed a father figure that would actually stick around, he could tell by the way your son looks up to him and the captain, eager to impress them

and you. oh, you. with your sweet, simple dresses and adoring smile. simon wishes you’d smile at him like that. all that cooking that your son lets go to waste could go to him instead. you could cook his favourite dinners for him and take care of his house whilst he’s away at work, whipping the boy into shape. teaching him every thing that your sack of shit ex-husband clearly didn’t

he’d be so good to you too. he knows it’s been a while since you’ve had a man to take care of your needs. he sees the way you nearly drool as you watch him running laps around the field, tatted arms on display. he’d spit you open so nicely on his cock and he knows you’d take him so well too, your pretty cunt would he creaming all over him

he soon takes advantage of this knowledge, subtly convincing your son to invite him over to your home on leave. dropping some story about how his flat is getting some work done and that he only lives 20 minutes from you both. your son was quick to offer the lieutenant a place to stay, telling him that he could take your room. that you could sleep on the couch for a couple weeks.

‘we’ll share the bed.’ simon thinks, but he doesn’t dare say it to your sons face. can’t have this little brat meddling with his plan

his arrival is clearly a surprise to you from the way you rush about shortly afterwards to start scrubbing the house top to bottom, rattling off apologies about the state of everything. simon quickly shuts down any offer of him taking your bedroom

“keep your bed, love. I’ll take the sofa.” he grumbles, sipping the tea that you made for him whilst your son rolls his eyes from the other side of the kitchen

he can see the way your eyes look at him with this longing. he knows it won’t take much to get you into bed. poor thing that hasn’t had anyone to look after her for years

he spends the next few days proving to you that he can provide. helping you carry anything heavy, drying the dishes after you’ve watched them, fixing the handy jobs around the house

you’re constantly praising him, focusing your love and attention towards him instead of your ungrateful son and the boy hates it. which is just the cherry on top, simon thinks

“your mother is so lucky to have a son like you. you must help her around the house all the time!” you coo, fidgeting with your skirt

“my mum passed away… jus’ me left out of the whole family.” simon admits, solemnly

“you poor thing, I’m so sorry. you’re welcome here anytime…” you gasp softly, placing your delicate hand on his arm and squeezing the muscle of his bicep gently and simon is ashamed to say it made his cock twitch against his thigh

“thank you, sweetheart… such a lovely girl, aren’t you?” he smiles behind his mask, reaching over and wrapping his arm around your waist. he pulls you against him, putting one hand over your mouth to keep you quiet as he hoists you up onto the kitchen counter

he squeezes his large frame inbetween your spread legs, leaning forward to look into your widened eyes

“been so good to me, love. taking care of me. such a good mum to your son, ya just need a good man to be a wife to, don’t you?” he says, pushing your skirt up your lap and revealing your thighs to him

he feels your thighs squeeze his waist, an aroused reaction from you. your body slumps into his with a natural submission that makes his cock ache. he lowers his hand and hooks his mask over his nose, revealing the scar running over his lip

“s’alright, darling. ‘m here to look after you now. me, you and the boy will be a nice happy family, yeah?” he says with a small smirk. leaning forward to mould his lips against yours before you can answer

he hears the little whimper you let out as you kiss him back, a little sloppy and inexperienced from years of being single, too busy with your son and work to date

but that’s okay because simon’s here now. ready to claim his family.

#mw2 #cod mw2 #ghost #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost simon riley

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tojikai · 9 months

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Sundered 2: EMBERS

Pairing: Gojo x reader

Genre: Angst

tags/cw: angst, mean!gojo(kinda), babydaddy!gojo, babymomma!reader, motherhood, insecurities, arguments, implied pregnancy, mentions of abortion

word count: 5.4k

a/n: it's not sad.

Pining so intensely for something you never had to the point where you physically ache.

Each step that you take away from Satoru’s house feels like a stomp to your already broken heart. Your eyebrows furrowed, feeling the waterlines of your eyes start to get hot and itch. You recalled the noises and laughs that you heard from them while you walked out of their door.

They have no idea how much you want to get down on your knees and beg them not to take away the only thing you have left.

Your feet feel heavy with each stride you make toward your car. You could taste blood inside your mouth as you bit your inner lip to channel the pain away from your heart and to your body instead. You found yourself looking for answers on why all of this has to happen to you. As if being replaced by the man you love so easily and having to see how he treats someone else a thousand times better than you were not enough, you also have to witness your own flesh and blood turn away from you. Am I really that far behind that woman?

Is she that much better that even my own child prefers her over me?

You placed your hands on the steering wheel, looking down at your lap as you let the tears fall. You kept glancing over at the gate, hoping that Satoru would come out, running with your baby in his arms. Yet, you don’t want him to see you crying miserably. You swallowed thickly, letting out a large breath in an attempt to get rid of the painfully heavy feeling in your chest.

Driving away was numbing, and all sorts of thoughts ran inside your mind. But above all of them, your eyes were focused on the toy store as it got bigger in your view. You wondered about what you could get your little love to at least make her smile when she comes home. You remembered how your gift to her, her favorite bear that she used to hug as she sleeps ever since she was an infant, was cast aside as she clings to her new ones.

Is that a foreshadowing of how you’d end up being in her life? It scared you.

Reaching the parking lot of the store, you looked at yourself in the car mirror, noticing your bloodshot eyes. You inhaled and let a big breath out slowly, puffing your cheeks as you assured yourself that it’ll be fine when she comes home later. Your head hurts so much but you can’t afford to care, stepping out of your car and heading to the front door of the store. The first thing you saw was a pregnant, young lady checking baby books.

She reminded you of yourself when you were still pregnant with Yui; curious about everything, eager to learn, and all was about the baby. You admit that it wasn’t like that at first, given that you were young and had to drop out of college at that time. You were anxious, torn between decisions, and terrified of what life would be like for you from that point in time. During that period, you and Satoru were ignorant but trying hard to figure everything out.

You met Satoru at a nightclub where you worked as a bartender. He was flashy, and women just flock to him as if it was the most natural thing to do around him but that night, his eyes were on you. What with persistent offers of buying you drinks and talking to your manager to let you off early for the night, you ended up in a luxurious hotel suite with him.

He even wrote his number on the price tag of the fancy lingerie set that he bought you after he ruined the one you were wearing the previous night. He was joking that you’ll never get enough so he’s providing you his contact for next time. You thought that would be the end of it. You didn’t think that it was just fate giving you a helping hand in advance because you’d end up with a child together.

You consider it a dumb mistake. You know that Plan Bs exist. But with a working student like you who couldn’t even have time to get a proper boyfriend, it slipped your mind. The first thing you did after you got the results was call Satoru. You thanked the heavens that he wasn’t seeing anyone, and that he remembers you. It was a tense meeting, what with you asking if he wants you to abort the fetus. Next thing you know, you two were already dealing with your mood swings.

“Look, I really want to work this out with you, Y/N. For the baby.” Satoru sighed, slamming the door behind him as he watched you sit on your old couch. You lean your elbows on your knees as you covered your face with your hands, harshly running them down your cheeks to wipe away the big, fat tears that fell from your eyes. There are just so many things going on with your life.

“I’m only 21, Satoru. I got my whole life ahead of me.” You looked up at his tall figure, frustration was evident in your eyes. You can tell that he was also distressed. His hair was messy, his jaw was clenched tightly, and even if you cannot see behind his tinted glasses, you can tell that he hasn’t been getting enough sleep. The dark half-circles under his eyes and the redness in them show just how exhausted and disquieted he has been in the past few days.

Satoru’s five years older than you. He was born to a rich family of politicians who don't and probably will never need support from him or the other younger generations in their household. He has a stable source of income, he could probably make life investments that could cover your yearly living expenses. He has nothing to worry about, he won’t be dropping anything if he decides to take in another mouth to feed. But you…

You’re basically your mother’s retirement plan and now you got pregnant with a kid of a man you barely know. “Y/N, listen to me.” He got down on his knees in front of you, trying to take your hands off of your face as you sob, struggling to catch your breath. What’s going to happen to you now? You didn’t even get to finish the degree that your mother was working her ass off day and night for.

“You won’t have to worry about anything, you know? I’ll handle everything you need—” He trailed, trying to calm you down as he gently grabbed your forearms. “You don’t understand!” You cut him off, snatching your hands away, aggravated that he’s not thinking about how it could affect everything in your life. “Then, what the fuck do you want to do?!” You flinched as he raised his voice at you, breathing hard as he backed away.

“You think you’re the only one who’s going to be affected by this? You think you’re the only one who’s being robbed of another future! Open your fucking eyes, stop being selfish!” Satoru snapped back, harshly taking his glasses off before throwing it across the room. You started to cry, whimpering as you used the collar of your shirt to wipe your tears away.

“I’m scared, Satoru. I’m just so scared. I can’t even take care of myself, how am I supposed to raise a child…” You broke down, turning your body away from him. There was a long pause, a moment of pure silence, save from your sniffs and Satoru’s ragged breathing.

You felt the couch dip as he sat down before pulling you to him, letting you cry on his chest. “I know, I know. I’m sorry.” You would be lying if you said that the back rub, the temple kisses, and his whispers of reassurance didn’t calm you down. Those thoughts were recurring in your head and now that you finally let it all out and got answers from him, you were soothed.

You blinked hard, shaking your head to get out of your trance. You went straight to the dolls section. You can’t believe you just had a flashback of Satoru comforting you in the warmth of his chest. Your mouth started to twitch, wishing that he held you like that earlier when his girlfriend was slapping into your face that they’re gonna give your child siblings. It shouldn’t hurt you, but it still did. You realized that this girl, this woman is gonna have everything you wish you had with Satoru.

You walked past the kiddie pools and trampoline section, stopping when you saw a playpen, almost similar to the one Satoru bought for your little girl but smaller. The size doesn’t really matter though, because you know that you don’t have enough space in your place for something so big, anyway.

Going closer to check the prices, you bit your lip as your eyebrows bumped together. You were calculating your monthly expenses along with the money for your savings in case of emergency. It’s expensive but you’re determined to cut back just to buy it. You kept your eyes on the tag as you took half a step away from it but your back was met by something, or rather someone behind you.

“It’s not cheap, is it?” A man’s deep voice boomed as you turned around, but your eyes were met by a broad chest. He’s big, you thought. He’s literally blocking your view. It didn’t help that you were short enough to have to look up to see his face. He was also staring at the playpen as he held the pushcart beside him.

“Y-yeah…” You answered, a bit awkward as you found yourself admiring the guy. You admired fathers who are active when it comes to their children. You didn’t grow up with a father so, you just found it endearing. You looked away from the man, gritting your teeth as an image of Satoru and his girlfriend shopping for baby things appeared before your eyes for a split second.

“Excuse me, sir. I still have to buy my daughter a gift.” You bowed slightly before turning away. He just nodded his head, too occupied to even look at you. You proceeded to check out the little dolls, hoping that you’d find something that’ll really catch your daughter’s eye. Picking up a dark-haired baby doll with big blue eyes sitting on a stroller, you smiled as you remembered how it has the same eyes as your baby.

You went to pay for the doll, and your heart was filled with joy despite the throbbing pain in your skull and the hot feeling behind your eyes. You reminded yourself not to forget to take your medicine. Thinking about getting sick and having to leave your child for a couple of days with them again makes you anxious, afraid that she’ll never want to go home to you again.

You hurriedly went home, driving in the midst of the rain. You put the little doll on the chair, ready to surprise your baby girl when she comes back. You had to bear with the time, constantly checking your phone if your little girl and her dad are on the way to you. Your heart swelled at the thought.

Though, you know that you’ll never be the one he comes home to, it’s still nice to think about.

—--------------------------------

“She really called me Mama.” Naomi giggled as she kissed his daughter’s cheek. Satoru smiled, watching them play together warms his heart. It made him feel like he was staring at his family even if he knows that his daughter isn’t hers. He pursed his lips, remembering the look in your eyes at what you heard the child say.

He felt conflicted, not knowing how to react to all of it. He doesn’t want to embarrass his girlfriend by correcting her in front of you. But he also felt bad that he just watched you walk out that door on the verge of tears. Satoru had you memorized after all this time, it wasn’t a long time but he used to watch everything you do.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea, though.” Satoru sighed, shaking his head as he pushed a bit of Naomi’s hair away from her face. Her expression dropped as she adjusted the toddler in her arms. Satoru pulled her close to his side, hugging her waist as he thought about how to explain it to her without making her feel disheartened.

“I’m worried about how Y/N will feel about it, to be honest. I don’t know but it may worry her.” He kissed the side of her forehead before stepping away as he watches his daughter’s eyes look at them. He knows that she’s still too young but he feared that she’ll get confused by all of this.

Like why is her father not with her mother, and why is he holding someone else?

He wondered if she’ll grow to hate him for giving up on their family. “Oh, Is that so…I thought we were fine already.” Naomi’s voice was quiet as she bit her lip, making Satoru rethink. “It’s not that, I just think that maybe that’s how she might feel.” Satoru took one of her hands, kissing it before rubbing his thumb on her soft skin. “No, I understand, I got too comfortable. I’m just a girlfriend, I shouldn’t have done that.”

Satoru doesn’t want to make her feel like this, she’s just really attached to his baby. He knows that Naomi adores kids, they often joke around about it, so he could see why she’s excited about his daughter calling her Mama. Thinking about it now, maybe this shouldn’t be so bad. After all, she’s not gonna be just a girlfriend to him forever, right? Naomi is a great person, and Satoru thinks that it’s not impossible to have a future with her.

“Don’t say that. That’s just my assumption. She’ll tell if it’s not alright, I know. We’re co-parenting so we have to talk about those stuff.” Three squeezes to her hands made Naomi smile sweetly at him, her eyes as kind as the stars. “Yeah, discussions are important. I don’t want her to feel like I’m trying to keep her away from us.” The calmness in her voice comforted Satoru.

—-------------------------------------

After receiving a text from Satoru, you found yourself staring at the mirror, retouching your makeup like it’s gonna make him fall for you. Hopeless. Not long after, the doorbell rang and you dashed to the door. There, Satoru stood with Yui asleep on his shoulders. You took her bags, along with the teddy bear that she was hugging to her chest. Seeing her holding it again made you feel relieved.

“Are you feeling better now?” Satoru inquired, walking past you to put your kid in her little bed. You hummed in response, “She’s full, don’t give her any more milk. Naomi fed her before she fell asleep.” Her again. You thought as the small smile on your face dissipated. You’re just thankful that he didn’t take her with them here.

There was a moment of silence as the two of you watched your daughter sleep peacefully. A sigh escaped Satoru’s lips before he turned to you. He was about to say something, but closed his mouth, thinking. You took a deep breath, pursing your lips as you collected your thoughts. You started to rub your hands together, trying to get rid of the cold feeling on your fingertips.

Your communication issues with Satoru only worsened when he got a girlfriend. Seeing how he is with her made you doubt the importance of your words to him. It’s like if you get stuck in a room together with her and something happens, you’re almost certain that he’d accuse you first. You wouldn’t admit it but you yearn for him. You yearn for the way he acts towards her. You yearn for the things he does for her.

You yearn for the things he so easily, willingly offer to her; things you had to beg for when you were still together.

“Satoru, I just want to ask…Since when did Yui start to call Naomi Mama?” You looked at the ground, somewhat embarrassed of your question but can’t pinpoint why. It just made you feel…weak and insecure. And you are that. But you can’t let Satoru see it. You don’t want him to feel even more sorry for you. You can see it in his and his girlfriend’s eyes whenever they look at you. They probably pity you and the state you are in.

Alone. With no one to hold your pieces together but you.

“I don’t really remember. Look, I was going to mention that…” Satoru trailed, looking everywhere but you. He probably noticed your discomfort earlier. “I know it doesn’t seem right to you because she’s just my girlfriend but…” Here’s the “but” again. How come he can always find the good when it comes to her, even when she literally did you so wrong by letting your daughter call her Mama and even acting like one in front of you?

Ever since Satoru got a girlfriend, arguing with him started to feel like fighting in a war without any type of armor in your body. How are supposed to stand strong, when the fact that he’ll always be on her side was your weakness? There were times when you wanted to fight for yourself but you couldn’t bear to because you know that he was shielding her from everything, heedlessly deserting you.

“I didn’t really appreciate it. I mean… I-I just think she’s not in the place to—” You thought the words you chose to describe the situation were too risky when you were cut off by Satoru, taking his glasses off. You can’t read him but he’s looking at you with that apologetic gaze again. His face was filled with contrite and you can’t quite understand why. But like a mouse sensing danger, you wanted to run away.

“I…I’m thinking about proposing to Naomi.” It shouldn’t hurt. You told yourself again. You don’t have the right to feel hurt. This man disrespected you, hurt you, and made you feel so incredibly small yet here you are, wishing you were the one he wants to spend the rest of his life with. “I know she’s just my girlfriend now, but it’s bound to change.” You suddenly just wanted him to leave. “She…she’d like to ask for permission to let our daughter call her Mom. You know she treats Yui like she’s her—”

“I don’t want to.” You whispered firmly through gritted teeth, cutting Satoru off. You don’t wanna hear it anymore. You can’t go through that again and you can’t let that happen again. “Yui is my daughter, and I don’t want her calling anyone else Mama.” You looked up at him with glassy eyes before turning away to walk out of the room, not wanting to startle the toddler from her slumber. Satoru was instantly on your tail, calling your name.

“She’s my daughter, too. Y/n, what is wrong? I know that you have your limitations and that’s why I’m here to talk about it with you, but why are you acting like this?” He walked closer to you, trying to catch your eyes. “I know it’s not just about this, I know you’ve been having problems with her but give a reason, at least. She’s been nothing but good to our kid. ” It’s getting hard for you to breathe as you tried to process your emotions and his questions.

You proceeded to the kitchen, hurrying to grab yourself a bottle of water before you collapse, but failing terribly when Satoru spoke the next sentence “Y/N, we all have to adjust, don’t be unfair to her, she doesn’t deserve it.”

“And I do?!” You shouted at him, taking him by surprise and making him take a step back.

“You think she doesn’t deserve any of that shit but I DO?!” You lamented, shaking your head in pain and disbelief. There were tears streaming down your face and no pattern of breathing can help you control it. You were able to keep it in when he shoved his new girlfriend in your face several months ago, but now it’s taking its toll.

You were about to get the clothes that he bought for your daughter on your way home from work but were met with a woman snuggled up to him on his couch. You hated him for allowing you to see them like that when he knows that you haven’t even processed your split yet because a month before that, he was saying that he could fix his shortcomings for you and his daughter.

You remember how sick you felt in your stomach when he introduced her, saying that you weren’t supposed to see them like that. It’s revolting; how he thought that you were upset because of what you saw and not because he just went back on his words. Naomi kept her head down, standing in front of you as she muttered an apology before scurrying to Satoru’s room.

Naomi was his father’s new assistant and unlike you, she got to finish her studies. Despite being classmates in high school, she was three years older than you due to the frequent relocation of her family. Regardless of her tough childhood, she was known to be a smart kid. No wonder his mother approved of her in such a short amount of time.

You and Satoru were never perfect but it doesn’t mean that you were never happy with each other before. The issues overpowered your interest in each other, making it hard for the two of you to bounce back. You admit that you’ve been negligent of Satoru at a certain point of your relationship but it was only because you got tired of his ways.

He would come home late, making you stay up all night because he failed to reply when you texted him, asking him his whereabouts. He’d be out drinking with friends, and it wasn’t a problem but you just wanted him to at least let you know so wouldn’t be worrying to the point that you can’t even sleep.

His mother was overbearing. You got pregnant by someone’s son in a one-night stand and that’s all she paints you with. You were belittled and told that you can’t even take care of the child properly. Hell, was she so eager for Satoru to leave you and find someone better who achieved something in life.

Consequently, this negligence led to fits of jealousy from Satoru. This drove you to quit the job you used to have after a coworker of yours who only wanted to help became the subject of his suspicions. His mother saw you getting dropped off by your friend while she was babysitting your daughter.

It was only because your car broke down and you don’t want to bother Satoru at work. You couldn’t really blame him for thinking that way because you know that he’s been feeling invisible to you which wasn’t true. You just don’t know how to deal with it anymore and you started to pull yourself away.

It got to the point where you couldn’t even communicate how you truly feel about him because it was overshadowed by your problems. You were arrogant enough to tell him that someone could treat you right and do much better and now, look at you; standing before him and his girl. Longing for him and eating the words you spitefully told him.

Pining so intensely for something you never had to the point where you physically ache.

The memory was tormenting, heart-rending, and traumatic to you. And now you get to watch them write their happy ending while you are here, left in the dust, drowning in the feelings that will never ever get recognized and will never ever be relevant.

It hasn’t even been a year, and he’s already planning to marry her. He’s been nothing but better to her, yet, he couldn’t even change his ways for you and your child? Couldn’t he learn to truly love you after everything you endured just to be with him? You know that you have flaws, and chose some wrong steps and paths in your relationship.

But you can’t bear to lose him like this. You know that you could have fought more for your relationship. He’d always say that you’d work things out. So, why did he stop? How could he stop choosing you so easily?

“How could you give her the world, yet refuse me the tiny bit of what I have left?”

Your voice was small as you backed away, defeated. Satoru couldn’t move. From everything that has happened that morning, he could tell that you’ve been on edge. To Satoru, the only thing that connects you to him is his daughter. He refuses to believe that after all of that, you can still make it work.

At least, that’s the realization he came about when he met Naomi. She taught him that love isn’t supposed to be strenuous, it isn’t always about fighting. Within his tumultuous relationship with you, she came around and showed him that he’s seen. That his feelings are valid. He came to the conclusion that maybe he just wanted to love you because you have a child together.

“Tiny bit?” He asked, frustrated that you just won’t let this go easily, irked that you always think you’re the only one having a hard time. If Satoru’s being honest, he’s just tired of it all. He just wants you to understand his point and get it over with. But now you’re crying in front of him and again, he doesn’t know what to do. He can’t even think of the right things to say or the right decisions to make. It’s like it’s all back to square one with you.

“You call it ‘tiny bit’ when I couldn’t even live my life because of you?! I’ve given everything, Y/N! I just want to be at peace with everything and I’m obviously not having it with you!” You couldn’t even breathe through the piercing ache in your chest from the daggers that are coming out of his mouth. Your hand reached over to your chest, grasping your shirt as his every word irreversibly pulverized your already wounded heart.

“I wish I never met you that night and I wish I never had Yui with you. You’re a thorn in my side, Y/N!” By the time he finished screaming at you, you were shaking like a leaf, grabbing a chair beside your table as your wide eyes stared at him in shock. Grief, mortification, and agony were plastered on your face, and only then did Satoru’s words sink into him.

“Y/N, I—” Before he could even form a proper phrase, a loud cry erupted from the other room. Yui. He watched as you quickly wiped away your tears, seeing the emotions mix inside your eyes until they turned into a weeping void with all the tears pooling inside them.

“I…I loved you, Satoru. And I hate that even now when you’re kicking me while I’m down for the sake of someone else, I still love you.” The crack in your voice had Satoru subconsciously moving closer to you, opening his arms to pull you into him but you were quick to flinch away, sniveling.

“Please, just-just go. Do whatever you want, just d-don’t take Yui away. I’m fine with it now, Satoru.” It’s almost as though something in you died when he spoke those words to you. You don’t know if he heard because you couldn’t even hear yourself. You could feel the beat of your heart in your chest and each one of them sends a burning ache to your body. “Just go, please.” You whimpered as you bit your upper lip, looking down on the floor.

Satoru can’t take his eyes off of your fragile figure as you leaned on the kitchen counter, slowly walking back to your daughter’s room. He remained unmoving until you exited the kitchen area. It was only after a few minutes that he decided to go, not bothering to wipe away the tears that rolled down his face as he listened to your muffled cries behind the closed door.

Each sob was filled with anguish that Satoru knows he’ll never be able to erase.

—------------------------------------------------------

A few weeks later have passed yet Satoru still doesn’t know what to make of himself. He couldn’t focus on anything that he works on. He couldn’t even workout properly, he always ends up getting angry. It was a good thing that both he and Naomi were swarmed with tasks; they didn’t have time to interact any more than what their jobs would allow. If they did, Satoru isn’t sure if he’ll be able to focus on her. She still has time to visit every week, though. During those days, she spends her time with Satoru and sometimes, Yui.

He makes sure to free his time and himself completely when he’s with his daughter so he can give his full attention to her. Satoru picks her up from your house, same schedule as before. Sometimes it’s you, but other times, it was your mother. “All I asked of you was to never break her, Gojo.” were the first words she spoke to him. Satoru can’t look her in the eyes. Your mother was a kind woman, humble and unjudging. And to have her talking to him like that, Satoru was beyond ashamed.

He couldn’t give her a reason, or an answer. All he did was apologize. Like he should. Naomi was unaware of it all and the proposal that Satoru was planning for her was set aside due to all that had happened. He just doesn’t think it’s the right time to plan about it when his relationship with you is strained. Yes, you’re not together anymore but you’re still the mother of his child and he wants to be civil with you, at least.

Yui kept asking for you even when she was with him as if sensing that her Mama was hurting. She’s always carrying the new doll that you bought for her. Satoru once asked her if you cry and she would simply shake her head. He gets nothing out of it, of course, she’s just a kid. But who else could he ask?

Satoru has no idea what you have been doing. He knows that you go to work, but other than that, he’s clueless about the places you go to and why your mother started babysitting his daughter more during the past few days. Satoru thought that maybe you just can’t stand seeing him anymore and is refusing to face him whenever he picks his daughter up. You have every right and reason to despise him, after all.

So, now he stands on the other side of your door, wondering if he’ll get to see your face this time or be welcomed with the frowning face of your mother. He knocked three times, like he always does, adjusting the collar of his shirt. To his surprise, it wasn’t any of the two women he was expecting holding the door open for him.

“Who are you?” A shirtless man with a muscular build stood before Satoru, a curious yet accusatory gaze scanned him like he was an intruder in his own woman’s home. He leaned on his tattooed arm against the doorframe, blocking the tiny view he has of the inside. It pissed him off, clenching his jaw for a few seconds before speaking.

“Who are you?” Satoru bit back, raising his brows in an attempt to intimidate the guy. He’s only a couple of centimeters taller than the stranger but he’s bigger. It wasn’t a big deal to him until the man opened the door wider. A short, deep chuckle escaped his lips before a smug smirk appeared on his face.

Tilting his head, the man gave Satoru a clear look at the scratches adorning his nape and the purple and maroon marks on his jaw. It made Satoru’s blood boil, unreasonably so.

“Think you know who I am now?”

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#angst #gojo satoru #gojo angst #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru angst #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen angst #jjk #jjk x reader

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astraystayyh · 1 month

Text

The snow falls, we fall apart.

summary: when heartbreak looms on your life, and winter becomes a time you loathe, hyunjin helps you rewrite your memories with the season, and with it, everything you once believed about love.

genre: producer student!hyunjin x reader. roommates!au. friends to lovers. acute descriptions of heartbreak and general sadness. slow burn. hurt/comfort. healing and hopeless romantic hyune. very inspired by long for you so lots of pining and yearning. (wc: 13k)

warnings: mentions of alcohol. it is implied that reader was in an a very toxic relationship but no details are shared.

a.n: happy birthday to my hyunjin, my muse, my light. thank you for being so full of love that it made me love love again in return. this is i think my most personal piece, and i hope it reminds those who need it that love should be soft and kind, that it shouldn’t hurt, that it should heal not break. i love you guys and i love you my xi, writing this collab with you has been a true honor <3 also!! please listen to long for you while reading :,)

winter falls masterlist.

You’ve only ever felt utter despair twice in your life.

First, when you were seven years old, playing hide and seek with your cousins at your grandma’s house. It was a warm summer afternoon, the air sweetened by pastries you devoured hours ago. You decided to hide in a wooden cabinet up in the attic, only to end up stuck there. The walls felt like they were closing in on you, the oxygen seeping away from the cracks underneath the door, leaving you deprived of air, of life.

Second, at twelve, when you've come to discover sorrow's new facet, clad in grief's heavy cloak. Your parents adopted a hamster for your birthday, but they did not know he had a terminal disease. You were distraught, to say the least, when you awoke to its still form, death claiming a frail heart unaware of its imminent fate.

And now, third, many many moons later, you are knocking on Hyunjin’s door a few minutes after midnight. It is cold out, tears tracing rivulets on your cheeks, your fingers tinted pink from roaming outside in the harsh winds, your heart much heavier than when you were a child. More grief-stricken, at your own hands, this time.

A disheveled Hyunjin opens the door, his blonde ash hair tousled and sticking upwards, a clear indication of the many times he had run his hands through it in fits of frustration. His gray hoodie zipped up hastily, revealing the silver cross necklace he was wearing, nestling perfectly against his honeyed skin.

You've always had an aversion to seeking comfort, saw it as revealing your deepest vulnerabilities to a world that isn't always kind. It was easier, much simpler to do so when you were a clueless child— when you sank in your cousin Lia's hold as she attempted to steady your breathing, when your mother cradled you in her lap after Pinky died.

It is much harder now, much more embarrassing because Hyunjin has never seen you this sad, never glimpsed your shadows that now swarm his doorstep, unannounced.

“What's wrong?” he quickly asks, eyes darting over your figure in a rapid search for visible wounds. He wouldn’t find any. All your injuries stem from within— blood doesn’t have to be spilled for your heart to weep.

You had rehearsed a lie as you walked up to his doorstep. You would say that your car broke down near his place and ask if you could stay over for the night. He would insist he could drive you to your place and you’d refuse, saying that it was too late and you did not wish to bother him. You’d sleep on the couch and slip away in the early hours of the morning.

Yet, it is the genuine worry etched in his eyes that dismantles the fortress you've hidden in, melts the lie in your throat, morphing it into a steel lump coiling in your throat. He looks concerned when all you’ve had directed towards you recently was anger. And you missed someone looking at you in care, not reproach.

“I didn’t know where else to go.” You admit, your voice shattered, fragments of your vocal cords scattered out in the wind like a broken mosaic, the sound of it scraping against your ears.

Blow one hurt. It felt like your body turned against you as it deprived you of oxygen. The sobs that escaped you once you perceived the light pained you, perhaps more than being confined in the darkness.

Blow two was even worse, it was your first time experiencing grief. It was too hard of a concept for your innocent heart to grasp, too complicated for you to find solace in anything as adults do.

You promised yourself that you’d reserve blow three for monumental agonies— big pains and big sorrows only. That’s how you managed to keep all your tears at bay for most of your life. Would they be worth losing your third sob for? No, you've always found the answer to be.

And in all the twisted scenarios you’ve conjured up in your mind, deaths and illnesses and the haunting tale of failure, you did not imagine that it would happen on Hwang Hyunjin’s doorstep. That you’d burst into sobs at the compassionate look in his gaze, and the sad smile he sent your way. As if he knew, as everyone did around you. That you had handed a knife to a serial killer and it was only a matter of time before he stabbed you in the heart.

Two weeks ago.

“I’m trying to understand you but you aren’t helping me,” Seungmin is frustrated as he paces relentlessly before you from left to right like a swinging pendulum. You sit on the couch, beholding only his shoes, avoiding his gaze that would reflect the truth you dare not confront.

“He’s sucking the life out of you, can’t you see that?”

You can, out of everyone that surrounds you, you can see it the most. You feel as if you are carrying a skin that isn’t your own, weighed down by a relationship that has taken everything from you. But admitting it is admitting that you were wrong, in trusting him, in loving him. You couldn’t bear it.

“We are fine!” you shout back, the defiance in your voice surprises even you. This is a familiar script with Seungmin, a recurring conversation spurred by your puffy eyes and diminishing appetite. He tells you, begs you to leave, but where could you go? How could you leave a home where you've shed all your treasured belongings at the door— your skin, your bones, your very self.

What place would welcome you now that you're stripped bare of your soul?

“When was the last time he made you smile, huh? All he does is hurt you, and you...” he chuckles incredulously, running his hand through his hair. “You are letting him.”

Deny, deny, deny.

“This isn’t true. He loves me,” the words taste foreign in your mouth like rusty metal dragging across your lips. A small voice whispers that love shouldn't feel like this, but you quiet it down.

“Are you hearing yourself? Yn, I…” he kneels before you, his hands resting comfortingly on your knees. This is Seungmin, your best friend of five years. You know he has your best interests at heart, you are even more sure of it when his voice softens, shakes slightly when he utters your name. “Yn, please. I’m trying to help you. Please.”

“I didn’t ask for your help,” you push away his hands, standing up. “I don’t want your help, and I don’t need it.”

You quickly leave Seungmin’s dorm, your heart heavier than when you entered it, foolishly hoping that he'd ignore your distressed state after yet another fight with your boyfriend. But Seungmin doesn't understand, no one around you does— you’ve gambled your heart, and you cannot stop drawing the cards, even in the face of losing strikes.

❁ ❁ ❁

Hyunjin offers you a cup of tea with a gentle smile and you grab the steaming drink from his hands. The smell of chamomile wraps around your senses, and your brain fizzles out for a second before the soothing aroma. But it is a fleeting respite, the tempest of your thoughts crashes back onto you with an unsettling force, causing you to almost drop the drink as your hands shake. You place it down the table without taking a sip.

“I’m sorry for coming unannounced,” you apologize, wincing at the intrusion, “I hope I didn’t wake you up.”

“I always sleep late. Don’t worry about it,” he smiles, but you know it isn’t a genuine grin, because his eyes betray an unsubdued concern, refusing to morph into their usual moon crescents.

You’ve always thought that Hyunjin wears his emotions openly— when he laughed, he did so loudly, his boisterous giggles traveling around Seungmin’s dorm. When he hurt himself, everyone in the vicinity would know so from his loud yelps. And when something worried him, he would bite his lip, toying with the plush flesh to ease his nerves.

As he is doing now. Looking at you.

“We broke up,” you quickly say, and your words hang over you like a gloomy cloud. “But I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Do you want me to fight him? I’ll bring changbin too,” he suggests a serious tone underlying his playful offer, and it manages to tear a reluctant giggle out of you.

“Changbin doesn’t know me well enough to fight for me,” you counteract and he shakes his head. “He’ll fight for me, I'm his princess.”

“Are you now?” The giggle escapes your mouth less forcefully, and the smile that graces Hyunjin’s face is a genuine one.

“I am. My proposal stands,” he extends his hand and you wrap your fingers around his palm. “Thank you, I’ll keep it in mind,” you smile but he frowns, flipping your hand around in his hold.

“You are freezing,” he whispers, using his other palm to rub warmth into yours.

“It’s fine,” you lie, slipping your hand out of his grasp, not feeling deserving of his kindness.

Wordlessly, Hyunjin stands, walking into what you assume is his bedroom. You only know of his place because you dropped off Seungmin here some time ago. You are too exhausted to even drink in the interior.

“Here,” he returns, handing you a navy hoodie of his and black joggers. “This will keep you warm at night.”

“Thank you,” you whisper, hesitating for a few seconds before speaking again. “Can you please not tell Seungmin, I... I can't face him right now.”

“Of course. I’ll be awake still if you do need something.”

Hyunjin’s clothing is warm, although peeling away your own garments felt like shedding layers of your skin, as if the fabric melted into your very flesh, just like memories from the day did. You have never felt this worthless before, discarded like a forgotten leaf on the roadside, one he stepped on for his own enjoyment, leaving you crushed in his wake, unable to fly away again.

Hyunjin’s rose perfume wraps around you, and you find relief in sleeping somewhere where your, his, scent was no longer around. You foolishly hope that if you close your eyes hard enough, you’ll manage to convince yourself that you’re someone else, tonight. Someone who isn’t tethered to the heartache, someone who can slip away from the clutches of a love that hurts more than hate could ever manage to do.

❁ ❁ ❁

Heartbreak isn’t beautiful, no matter how eloquently you try to dress it in the syllables of poetry, no words can soften the burn in your lungs, the searing ache that courses through your very core, reminding you that deep within, down to the fundamentals of your being and the most basic alchemy that ties your atoms together— you are unlovable. Whether you cut your hair or allow it to grow, change your heart, or leave it as it has always been, you will remain so.

You don’t remember much of the past week, blurry fragments here and there that float in your mind like a distorted water reflection. There is little room for memories when you are busy trying to remember how to breathe— one inhale in, one exhale out. The simple concept seems harder when there are unkind hands permanently lodged into your heart, squeezing it tight.

What you do remember is telling Seungmin through text the next day, because you couldn’t bear the way his eyes would soften if you spoke to him in person. No signs of surprise cast on his figure, because he knew that it was long coming, a train with one final inevitable destination— you in shambles, him okay.

You remember Seungmin cradling you in his arms when he came to see you, and you trying desperately to keep the tears at bay— too focused on pinching your arm to let Seungmin’s warmth radiate through your being, Hyunjin lingering uncomfortably by the entrance of his living room.

You remember begging Seungmin to grab your belongings from the apartment you shared with your ex because you were unable to face him, him, and everything that your old place spelled out for you. Stand in the ruins of what you once thought would be your permanent home.

And now, you watch as Seungmin and Hyunjin bring suitcases full of your stuff into the latter’s place. And you feel like an outsider in your own body, standing at the corner of the room gazing at utter destruction, unable to stop it, unable to mend it. Seungmin quickly reassures you that you could crash in his and Minho’s place until you find a new one to live in, already taking out his laptop to search for new apartments for you.

But you did not care for it, your eyes zeroed in on the satin shirt peeking out of your suitcase. The one he bought you on your first month anniversary. Back when love felt like a gentle feather running down your spine, and not a dull knife slicing away at your skin.

“This place's expensive too,” Seungmin sighs, rubbing his temple warily. Your logical best friend could not fix your heartbreak but he took it to heart to alleviate your other troubles. You would thank him for it, later, when your tongue finds enough will to move.

“What if you move in with me?” Hyunjin suddenly says and his words filtrate through the fog in your mind easily, as if he rehearsed them enough times so they’d roll out smoothly out of his mouth. “I mean, Felix is away for the next year since he went back to Australia. And I was looking for a new roommate anyway.” He shrugs and Seungmin turns to look at you, his eyes convey the question his mouth doesn’t articulate— is it okay with you?

“I don’t…” your voice is croaked, so you clear your throat. “I don’t want you to do things out of pity.”

“I’m not. If I was, I would've told you to move in with me for free. I still need you to pay rent,” he raises his eyebrows, a playful tease and you smile in relief, nodding, “Okay, I will. thank you.”

Heartbreak is ugly and all-encompassing, weaving through the roots of your heart and infecting each organ with its insidious touch. It renders you immobile, incapable of performing the simplest tasks, burdened by a weight unseen by the world. But you try your best, your very best to contain it.

You smile at the cashier as she hands back your money only to wonder if her soft, well-manicured hands would too crush a soul without remorse. You go to all your classes without fail but your mind is elsewhere, contemplating why the sun filtering through the windows no longer warms your skin. Can nerve endings perish when subjected to too much pain? What's left of life when you can no longer feel the caress of the sun?

You watch a movie at Seungmin's dorm but your mind is elsewhere, fleeting to this morning and how you refused to stay in the shower for more than three minutes because your thoughts might become haunting ghosts tempting you to follow them. You brush your hair and spray your perfume, only because you have to, because you live with Hyunjin and you wouldn’t want your sadness to taint him too. You wonder how long you’ll have to bear it. You wonder if it’ll ever leave you or if the veins in your heart have molded themselves after the pain and they wouldn’t know how to accept happiness anymore.

You greet Hyunjin as he walks past you, shaking your head when he asks you if you want to eat dinner with him, quickly retracting back into your room. You have ten unread messages and a pile of growing laundry you need to do, but all you can muster is to gaze at the empty walls, mirroring the void within you. Your mom told you to call her again and you don’t know how you’ll speak to her without bursting into a sob, how you’ll tell her that all it took was one person to break you. Or maybe it was two people, your hands and his tearing apart your flesh and bones. Maybe that’s the worst part about it. So you don’t call her.

And you only ever emerge from your room when you need to, just like now because your water bottle is finished and you need to refill it. You go to open the kitchen door when you hear Hyunjin’s muted shatter, Felix’s distinctive deep voice coming out of the phone speaker.

“Next you add the melted butter and stir it,” Felix instructs, the sounds of pots and utensils clinking in the background. You fidget slightly, mustering the strength to paint a fake smile on your lips.

“What next?”

“Sift the dry ingredients then add them to your wet mixture,” Felix explains, met with a few seconds of silence. You can almost visualize Hyunjin's perplexed expression, blinking rapidly in confusion.

“Explain it to me like I’m five years old,” he requests, prompting a small smile to etch itself onto your face.

“How are you surviving without me?”

“I’m not please come home,” Hyunjin sounds horrified as Felix’s rich chuckles fill the air. “Why do you suddenly want to make brownies anyway?” he then asks.

You go to open the door when Hyunjin’s response catches you off guard.

“They’re for Yn.”

Hyunjin's words resonate in the air, causing a hitch in your throat and Felix’s teasing whistles simultaneously, but Hyunjin is quick to stop him. “No, no, no, it’s not like that. They’re just a bit down and I remember them loving your brownies. So…”

It takes you a fleeting moment to dig the memory out of your mind, a year ago, right before your ex came to pick you up from Seungmin’s dorm. You had a bite of Felix’s brownies, a surprised gasp escaping your lips at its delicious taste, back when food had taste and happiness came easily to you. It was an insignificant memory, you did not imagine Hyunjin, out of everyone, would remember it.

But he did, and he’s now pacing before your closed door, contemplating how he’ll convince you to finally eat something with him. He throws a thumbs-up in the air for no one but himself, inhaling deeply before knocking on your door.

“Hey,” he greets with a hopeful smile, his gaze meeting your tired form. He hesitates for a second, clearing his throat. “Brownies?” You remain unmoving and he falters, “Hm? Please?”

“Sure,” you nod and a wave of relief floods through Hyunjin as you step out of your room. His joy is short-lived when he takes the brownies out of the oven, only to find them thoroughly burnt.

His mouth hangs agape, and he walks back shamefully to the oven, lowering its door only to scream inside of it.

“This will be more therapeutic,” you say, pointing nonchalantly to the fridge and he agrees, opening its doors and yelling once again in the much larger space.

Your melodic laughter fills the kitchen, Hyunjin’s embarrassment is suddenly a forgotten memory.

“I’m craving kimbap. Should we get it instead?” you propose, a touch shyly and he quickly agrees, afraid you’d change your mind and walk back to your room where he can no longer ensure you are okay.

Hyunjin absentmindedly dances along to the music blasting through the convenience store when a girl sidles up to his side, a saccharine grin on her lips as she looks up at him, “hi,” she greets and his tentative smile mirrors hers. “Hey.”

“Are you single?” she asks, her gaze briefly fleeting to the window. “I think you are really cute.”

“I’m…” he glances at you but you're suddenly engrossed in the ingredients of the tuna kimbap you are holding, pretending not to listen. “I am but I’m not interested, thank you.”

“Oh, come on,” she places a hand on his arm and he physically recoils. “Give me your insta and we could talk.”

“No,” he repeats, grabbing her hand to remove it when a loud voice startles him. “Baby, what’s taking you so— What are you doing?” Hyunjin watches in horror as the girl’s eyes grow wide, before she scrambles to the man’s side, feigning fear.

“He kept hitting on me when I said I had a boyfriend, baby.”

“What?” both you and Hyunjin gasped in comical unison. He would find it amusing if not for the escalating anger radiating from the man, who looks like he spends all his days in the gym. Hyunjin suddenly regrets not working out with Changbin.

The man strides towards Hyunjin. “Do you want to die?”

“No? there’s a misunderstanding,” he replies, swiftly standing before you and shielding you with his arm. “Your… baby,” he wiggles his finger in front of the man's face, “she was the one hitting on me!”

The man scoffs loudly, his face growing redder from the anger seething in him. “So you hit on my girlfriend and then accuse her of cheating?” His fist rises threateningly, prompting Hyunjin to step back, accidentally bumping into your chest.

“Wait, wait, wait! Let’s go talk outside, man to man,” Hyunjin pauses, his voice taking on a taunting edge, “unless you're too scared?” he smirks as he feels you pull at his shirt, whispering an incredulous- “What are you doing?” He shakes his head, grabbing your hand and leading you outside, throwing a sly wink at the man behind you now.

“Are you seriously going to fight him?” you ask, your gaze shifting towards the deranged couple who are about to step out of the grocery store. “No, of course not. I'm a lover, not a fighter.”

“You said you'd fight my ex,” you point out and his eyes soften surprisingly.

“You are an exception.” He looks back at the man, who's now walking towards you both. “But anyways, do you know how to run?” he asks and you frown, “who doesn’t know how to—” you pause as realization dawns on you. “No," you whisper furiously.

“Yes.”

“No,” you shake your head, horrified and he nods, eyes apologetic.

“Yes.” His fingers entwine with yours, he squeezes your hand once before he takes off running.

“Hwang fucking Hyunjin!” you shout and he looks back at you, a mischievous smile on his face. “I’m sorry Yn my face is too pretty to be beaten up.”

“He’s following us!” you yell, looking back horrified as the, even angrier, man runs after you.

“Well, run faster!”

“I’m wearing fucking slippers!” you curse and he giggles, tipping his head back, the wind slamming into you both, his hand never letting go of your own.

“Oh my god why is he still running!” you groan and Hyunjin picks up speed, moving you even closer to his sprinting figure

“I know, is it ever that serious?” he yells above his shoulder and you dig your nails into his palm.

“Shut up, this wouldn’t have happened if you weren’t so gorgeous.”

“So, you think I’m pretty too?” Hyunjin grins proudly and an incredulous laugh escapes your lips.

“Really? Is this what you’re getting out of this situation?”

“Silver linings, Yn, silver linings,” he shouts as you round a small alley, finally stopping to catch your breath. You both fall to the ground, heavy breaths escaping your chests.

“Holy shit, I’m not athletic at all,” he heaves, his eyes meeting yours. He expects to find anger lingering in your gaze but all he can grasp is your amused smile before you collapse into a fit of laughter, clapping loudly and clutching your stomach with your hand.

“Oh my god, I’m crying,” you laugh harder, wiping away at the tears falling from your eyes. Hyunjin’s weariness disappears in the blink of an eye— he did not realize how much he missed your smile until he glimpsed it again. And it is beautiful. Happiness looks beautiful on you.

“Idiot,” you hit his shoulder playfully, and his response is delayed for a few seconds, the warmth from your smile rendering him immobile.

“I’m sorry,” he chuckles, pulling you up. “Here, I’ll carry you home,” he squats slightly before you. “How impolite of me. How dare I make your majesty run.”

You shake your head, amused, before climbing atop his back, his warm palms holding your thighs securely. “Only because the slippers hurt my feet.”

You walk in silence for a while, your arms wound up around Hyunjin’s neck, the ghost of a smile still lingering on both your faces.

“They said it will snow tomorrow,” Hyunjin speaks suddenly and you stay silent for so long he starts to wonder if you even heard him.

“Mm? That’s nice,” your tone is melancholic, and he pauses at the peculiar sadness in it— as though you were trying to act nonchalant about something that has once meant the world to you.

“Don’t you like the snow?” he asks and your hold on his neck falters.

“I loved it. Loved ice skating and building snowmen.” Your voice is light and airy, like Hyunjin’s favorite mint chocolate ice cream. “But now it reminds me of bad times, bad memories.”

“I understand.”

Hyunjin knows what it feels like to relinquish parts of yourself you never wished to part from. For someone to grab your happiest places and to cast a gloomy filter atop them. Sometimes it is the loss of a season that hurts more than the departure of a person.

And Hyunjin loves winter.

He’ll do everything so that you’ll come to love it again too.

❁ ❁ ❁

Is it a nightmare if the person in it is one you once loved, looked forward to beholding with your gaze, hoping they’d never slip out of your reach? You don’t know, but you are growing tired of having the same dreams every night. Of waking up with an exhaustion that goes beyond your restless sleep but pleads from your soul to rest after almost a year of torment.

You sigh wearily, rubbing a hand through your face before walking to the kitchen to retrieve a glass of water. You find Hyunjin there, eating a cupcake while standing shirtless, scrolling through his phone. You blink at the sight.

“Hey,” you clear your throat and he startles, dropping the cupcake on the ground. He goes to pick it up only to bang his head on the table, a loud yelp escaping his lips. You barely contain your giggles as you walk to his side, rubbing your palm soothingly on his head. “I'm sorry I didn't mean to scare you.”

“At least pretend you are sorry,” he mumbles, pointing to your amused smile and you chuckle, taking his hand and helping him to his feet.

“What are you doing up now?” he asks as he grabs some napkins to clean up the pink frosting smeared across the floor.

You hesitate for a few seconds before whispering, “Just nightmares. And you?” you quickly add, not keen on pushing the subject any further.

“I'm working on a song,” he explains, as his gaze lingers on your sunken eyes, weighed down by dark circles from too many sleepless nights.

“And the cupcake?”

“Some people need caffeine to function. I need flour.”

“I literally see you drink three americanos per day.”

“Okay well maybe I need both,” he admits sheepishly and you grin, drumming your fingers along the countertop.

“Can I sit with you while you work?” you ask quickly, before the words linger enough in your mouth that you no longer wish to spit them out.

The smile that Hyunjin sends you is kind, pushing the shadows of your nightmares just slightly out of reach.

“Of course, yeah you can. Don’t even need to ask.”

Hyunjin walks first into his bedroom, quickly slipping on a hoodie while you take in the interior. It is a quite simple room— a large bed with gray covers, and a desk filled with what you assume to be his producing equipment sits adjacent. But what catches your attention is the dried rose hung delicately on the wall, and the array of paintings surrounding it. You edge closer to it, drawn to the well-crafted paintings— a sun-drenched beach, a couple lost in an embrace so intimate their forms can no longer be separated, and an elderly pair riding a motorcycle, their love radiating vibrantly as if enclosed in eternal youth.

“You paint?” you ask, turning around to find Hyunjin watching you. He steps closer, enveloping you once more in the fragrance of his rose perfume.

“In my free time.”

“You are amazing, Hyunjin,” you compliment sincerely, your gaze fixed on that imagery of the old couple, one that most likely grew together. It tugs at your heartstrings, stirs a painful longing within you, a memory of a time when you too believed you’d find such boundless love.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, before brushing his fingertips gently against your forearm, for a fleeting second. “Are you okay?” he asks, a tenderness you’ve been aching for latched into his question. Your eyes refuse to peel away from the paintings and the love spilling from each paint brush stroke, a love that refuses to rest on your being as if you were harboring an armor that repels it.

“No,” you reply sincerely, turning to face him. “It’s really hard,” you say with a smile, hoping that the mechanical display of happiness would keep your tears at bay, tricking your brain into believing you're not as sad as you feel.

It fails to do so, and the tears well in your eyes like a gathering storm. Frustration twists your features as you shut your eyes, tilting your head upward in a desperate attempt to contain the flood. It pauses as Hyunjin cradles the back of your head, drawing you close to the warmth of his neck. His palm glides soothingly along your spine, before patting your back ever so gently.

Your back stiffens, hands curling into tight fists, breath catching in your throat. You've grown accustomed to pushing away comfort, putting up tall barriers to shield yourself. But tonight, Hyunjin seems to break through your defenses.

Tonight, you soften, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, head nestling deeper against his tender skin.

“It wasn’t your fault,” he whispers and another sob wracks through you, but he only holds you tighter. “It’ll get better soon.”

“I loved him,” you hiccup, your voice breaks, “a lot.”

“I know, that’s why it hurts.” His voice is gentle, and yet his hold on you feels secure as if you could stumble and fall, and he would be there to catch you

“I want it to stop hurting.”

“It will, with time.”

Your next words are tinged with a childlike vulnerability, reminiscent of blow one, then two. But you do not care for it, in that instant, you crave the reassurance, you need someone to plant a seed of hope in your soul because your hands are too frail to dig for it.

“Do you promise me?”

His response doesn’t come hastily, carelessly thrown into the air like idle chatters. He takes his time, considering it with the gravity of an oath.

“I promise you.” He finally says, each syllable infused with sincerity. A brief pause hangs in the air before he adds. “And if it doesn’t then you can hit me.”

“On your pretty face?” you ask, a smile tugging at your lips despite yourself.

“On my pretty face,” he confirms with a chuckle.

“What an honor,” you roll your eyes playfully as you lean back and he grins, tenderly wiping away your tears with the back of his fingers.

“I can't believe it took three minutes for you to cry in my room. This isn’t good for my reputation.”

“Good thing this will never leave this bedroom, right?” you point a finger at him threateningly, and he pretends to zip his lips, tossing away the imaginary key. “You got it.”

“So what are you working on?” you ask as you settle on the edge of his bed, knees drawn up to your chest.

“It’s a pretty sad song, wanna hear?” he offers, sitting across from you on his chair.

“Yeah, I'd love to,” you smile, and Hyunjin deftly adjusts a few buttons, before his melancholic whistles weave through the air, coupled with the somber melody of a piano. Your breath catches in your throat, the music reaching into the very depths of your soul. It's as if the notes are calling out for a loved one, for a time that has long passed, for a past that will never come back no matter how much we long for it.

The instrumental continues, each piano note and each violin string echo like a bittersweet lament, springing tears to your eyes. But the melody remains beautiful, akin to the beauty always found in the sadness— in the tears that cascade down your cheeks like glistening crystals, in the tremble of your hands akin to branches swaying in the wind, in the rise and fall of your chest with each breath, mirroring the ebb and flow of the waves.

Hyunjin watches you intently as the music envelops you both, his gaze softening with each passing moment. You bring a hand to your chest, almost unconsciously, too engrossed in the melody to even blink. He feels a blush sprout on his cheeks as your teary eyes hold his with the last fading guitar strings.

“You keep on making me cry,” you whisper, your voice choked with emotion, and he grins, tilting his head shyly against his shoulder.

“You like it?” he asks, a tad eager and you nod, not bothering to wipe the lone tears that are falling down your cheeks.

“I think this is what my loneliness sounds like,” you confess softly.

“As do mine.”

A silent beat runs between you both, it isn’t uncomfortable, but safe. Because you understand him, just as he understands you.

“Sometimes I long for things that have passed," he admits, “although I know I can't get them anymore.”

“The most terrible thing you can long for is yourself.”

“Because no one’s to blame for that loss but you?” he muses and you nod, a sad smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah, exactly.”

You bite your lip, casting a glance back at the paintings adorning the wall. “I don't love him anymore,” you begin quietly. “I stopped a long time ago because there was no room for love anymore to grow amid weeds and thorns.”

He remains silent, sensing that this is a weight you need to unburden yourself from.

“But in the midst of it I think I stopped loving myself too,” you whisper, a confession too terrible to be uttered out loud. “That's what I long for. The things I used to love that I'm indifferent to now.”

“Like you’re a stranger before everything once familiar to you.”

“Yeah, you express it prettily,” you remark with a small smile.

“It's my job,” he grins lightly.

“I think when your heart is pure,” he begins after a while, pausing to carefully choose the words that will soothe your burn, help sleep come more easily to you. “You give love to others more readily than you do to yourself. And it takes time, patience, to redirect that love back to your own heart once again. But it's not a mistake to love, you shouldn’t hate yourself for it. Nor should you blame your past self for loving the wrong person because they did not know what you now do.”

“Think of it as a caterpillar in their cocoon,” he continues gently, “when they finally emerge from their chrysalis, they might long for who they were, where they once were because it is the only place they've ever known. But they do not realize that they've transformed into a beautiful butterfly, that they can now fly, and witness much more than their chrysalis. So maybe, your new self will love the same things as before, or maybe you’ll find new, better things to love that you would have not known before. But in either way, your heart is beautiful. That is what matters, no?”

A small pout draws on your lips, your eyebrows scrunched as you gaze at him.

“You have a very tender soul, Hyunjin.”

Your words linger in Hyunjin's mind long after the sunrise, as you lay peacefully asleep on his bed. The melody of the instrumental he produced continues to play faintly in the background, serving as a gentle lullaby that eases you into slumber, entwined in his sheets, your arms wrapped protectively around yourself, one hand cradling your shoulders and the other resting gently on your stomach. The image sears into his eyes as he sketches the outlines of a figure holding itself absentmindedly, long into the night.

Hyunjin has had his fair share of compliments, mostly pertaining to his face, and others to his craft. but it is you who seems to have sensed that a part of his soul resided in his art, that he left pieces of his heart hidden in the notes he composes and the lyrics he writes, hoping they’ll find soft hands that will take care of them, just like your own.

Five days later.

hyunjin [11:34 p.m.]: are you home?

yn [11:34 p.m.]: yeahh, do you need anything?

hyunjin [11:35 p.m.]: come downstairs, im waiting for youu

if you say no i’ll freeze to death..

hurry i can’t feel my fingers anymore (please please) ㅠㅠㅠ

“This better be a life and death situation Hwang Hyunjin,” you say threateningly as soon as you appear before Hyunjin, causing him to straighten up from the wall he was leaning against.

“It is a very dangerous life-altering situation that requires your immediate assistance, indeed,” he responds solemnly, ushering you gently to his car and opening the door for you.

“Which is?” you ask as soon as he settles inside the car and he simply grins at you, his left dimple coming forth like the very sun on a gloomy day.

“You’ll see.”

Hyunjin’s eyes fleet to your figure every now and then, but you do not seem to notice, your gaze lost into the blurring lights ahead. He can tell you're still not entirely yourself, so he was prepared to forcibly drag you along with him. He’s almost surprised you accepted to come down so easily.

“Is that… Seungmin?” you speak suddenly, pointing to a man waving in the distance, as Hyunjin parks his car near an empty field.

“And Changbin? And Minho?” you continue, squinting your eyes, “and a bonfire?” you giggle with a hint of excitement.

“You love s’mores during the winter, right?”

Hyunjin smiles, your soul softens.

“I do,” you say quietly, “I really do.”

You quickly exit the car, running into Seungmin's arms with a grin of disbelief plastered on your face. “This is insane,” you almost shout, squeezing him tight in a hug.

“It was so hard to find the perfect middle of nowhere for this,” Minho grumbles as you move to greet him, but the warmth of his embrace assures you he's only teasing.

“Thank you,” you say with a smile as you hug Changbin, who affectionately ruffles your hair. “It was Hyunjin’s idea,” he reveals, and you glance back at Hyunjin, who stands with his hands buried deep within his sweatpants behind you. You mouth a silent “thank you” to him, but he shakes his head modestly as if it is nothing to bring happiness to a bruised heart.

The night unfolds in endless laughter, with Minho and Hyunjin taking turns roasting marshmallows over the crackling bonfire, and Seungmin serving you hot coffee to keep your hands warm. Your stomach aches from the uncontrollable fits of giggles that overtook your being as Minho recounts the time he danced so vigorously on stage for his dance club that he ripped his pants, feeling a breeze where there shouldn't be one; and Changbin tells you the story of the time his voice cracked in the middle of a rap battle, and how none of the boys stopped teasing him about it for months to come.

And as the four of them take turns making you laugh, a quiet, tender realization dawns on you—you are loved. It is something he tried to convince you was impossible, that no one around truly cared for you but him. And even then, you weren’t deserving of his love whole, only scrapes of it, as if you were a beggar tugging at the outskirts of his heart.

But Hyunjin reminded you otherwise. And if your friends found something worthy of love within you then perhaps so will you again, one day.

“Did you have fun?” Hyunjin asks as he opens the door to his, your, apartment hours later. What he doesn't expect is for you to respond by wrapping your arms around his slender torso, squeezing tight in gratitude.

“Thank you,” you whisper and he nods, though you cannot see him, returning the embrace by wrapping his arms around your shoulder blades.

Hyunjin doesn't let go first, sensing that perhaps you need this hug more than he does. He smiles as your eyes meet his again, but his grin falters when he notices your gaze flickering towards your bedroom, a hint of unease clouding your expression. It's as if behind that door lie monsters only you can grasp, wearing the faces of people you once knew, once loved.

“Wanna stay with me while I work on the song?”

“Last time I ended up sleeping on your bed,” you say a bit shamefully, recalling the morning you woke up to find yourself covered with a thick blanket that wasn’t there before, alone in Hyunjin's room.

“It's okay,” he shrugs, “I missed sleeping on the couch.”

You stare pointedly at him and he chuckles, “Fine, I did not miss it. But you needed the sleep, so it’s okay with me.”

“Fine,” you concede, though you did not need much convincing for it. “But only if you promise you’ll wake me up if I end up falling asleep again.”

Hyunjin tilts his head, thinking to himself for a few seconds before shaking his head stubbornly, a small pout drawn on his face, his eyes semi-closed. “No.”

“Hyunjin!”

“Nu-uh,” he insists, shaking his head once more as he walks back towards his room. “I'm waiting for you!”

“I'm not coming!”

But you do eventually join him, after changing your clothes and washing your face. You find Hyunjin clad in beige and white checkered pajamas, his glasses pushing back his silky hair as he hunches over his journal, scribbling away before erasing what he wrote.

“Struggling with lyrics?” you ask, leaning against the wall and he startles. “Do you float on the ground? Why can I never hear you come in?”

“Or maybe you just love being dramatic,” you sing-song, laying atop his bed, much more at ease than the previous night.

Hyunjin sticks his tongue out childishly in response, and you playfully mimic the gesture before both of you dissolve into happy giggles.

“Kind of,” he explains once you both settle down, “I have this specific feeling in mind that I need to convey.”

“You'll do well,” you reassure softly, “your lyrics are always so beautiful. Remember Cover me?” you smile and he scratches the back of his ear, a shy grin spreading across his face.

“You still listen to it?” he asks and you nod eagerly, attempting to belt into Seungmin’s ending high note. You fail horribly and Hyunjin throws a crumpled piece of paper on your face to get you to stop singing.

“My poor ears,” he laughs loudly, and you retaliate by throwing back a pillow on his head.

“You just don’t get my artistic abilities.”

“I’d get them more if you stayed silent.”

You gasp, faking offense as you stand up to tickle Hyunjin on his chair, he starts squirming immediately, his loud giggles spilling all over the room, coating it in vibrant hues of happiness, and you’re suddenly captivated by the sight of him— his head thrown back, a golden lock framing his laughter-filled eyes, his top lowering slightly to reveal glimpses of his collarbones and the delicate veins that trace enticing paths on his neck.

You pause, your hand hovering over the side of his stomach, as a long-forgotten warmth spreads through your heart, like the first rays of dawn greeting the earth after a long winter night. It doesn’t diffuse quickly through your being, but rather drapes like sticky honey on your veins, making you well aware of your growing blush, of how beautiful Hyunjin is in his joy.

“Never singing to you again,” you clear your throat, laying atop his bed once again, and quickly reaching for your phone, anything to avoid his eyes which rival the crescent moon outside his window.

Hours pass before a warm hand gently settles on your shoulder, rousing you from your slumber. Blinking away the fog of sleep, you find Hyunjin leaning over you, his grin wide and infectious. “Wake up,” he whispers, but you only groan, burying your face deeper into his pillow.

He doesn’t yield, taking hold of your wrist and guiding your drowsy figure upright, before wrapping the blanket snugly around your shoulders. Without a word, he leads you out onto his balcony, carefully putting his neon green beanie on your head to shield you from the cold.

“It’s snowing!” he smiles, and his excited tone manages to dissipate the fog in your mind. You blink repeatedly and soon enough, you too behold the fallen snowflakes, each one resembling a tiny speck of light bidding farewell to the sky to greet the earth.

“You missed the first snow so I didn’t want you to miss this one too,” he explains, and his thoughtfulness blankets you with a warmth that seeps into every crevice in your body, drips down your fingertips and makes the cold of 4 a.m. seem less harsh, less biting to the touch.

You don’t know how to say thank you, because those two words don’t encapsulate the depths of gratitude that you feel for Hyunjin. Because he is speaking to the person within you who still loves snow, the part buried underneath layers of dust from a ground heartbreak. But you still manage to hear him, and you squeeze his hand tightly, and he doesn’t let go until you finally do.

❁ ❁ ❁

Remembering has become easier for you these past two months— both the good and the bad. And each day, the scale tips towards one side or the other. Sometimes you recall the suffocation you felt with him, the feeling that no matter what you did you could never please him, that your hands were crafted to break rather than mend. And on those days your wound grows, it throbs and bleeds different emotions.

Sometimes it's anger— at him for treating your heart so carelessly as if you were a being devoid of feeling. And then at you— for staying, for giving him excuses and desperately searching for goodness within him, for the one redeeming quality that would convince you he was worth the pain.

And other days bring an excruciating sadness along, a weight that presses down upon you until you're paralyzed. Because you feel bad for yourself and for everything you went through. Because you’re unsure how to rise when unseen hands push you deeper into the abyss.

And on these days, Seungmin becomes your anchor. He buys your favorite food, skips classes with you, and takes you to your favorite gardens. He talks and he talks and you try your best to laugh because you do not wish to worry him more. It is enough to be your own burden, you do not wish to burden him too.

But when he drops you home, your facade slips away, the smile fading from your face as if it were never truly yours to wear. You are too tired to pretend so you don’t, and Hyunjin doesn’t let you, either. He brews you tea and orders takeout because he knows you lack the energy for cooking. He goes with you on walks and drapes you in pieces of his clothing— scarves and beanies and gloves because he knows you couldn’t care less about a cold when there is a frost coating your bones. He lets you sit in his room while he works on his songs, and while he paints. Sometimes you talk and often you don't need to. But he’s there. He's there with you.

But you also remember the good. You remember your movie night with the boys, Hyunjin building an entire fort for you, adorned with twinkling lights and the softest blankets. How you watched movies until 5 a.m. your bodies so closely huddled together that there was no room left for sadness.

You recall Hyunjin begging you to build a snowman with him at the crack of dawn, the two of you collapsing in fits of laughter as you threw snowballs at one another, your footsteps marking the fresh fallen snow.

You remember being so exhausted after one of your showers that you simply laid atop the couch, gaze fixed on the void, too drained to even untangle the knots in your hair. Yet, it is not the tiredness that you exactly recall, nor the salty tears you shed underneath the scorching water jet. But it is Hyunjin's tender hands as he brushed through your hair, his fingers tracing the nape of your neck, his knuckles ghosting over the slate of your shoulder. You remember whispering that it was a particularly hard day and Hyunjin understanding. You remember him watching many YouTube tutorials to prepare your favorite seaweed soup, only for it to end up being too salty. But you still ate it all, because he made it for you, to lift your wounded spirits. And that alone was enough for it to taste good.

You remember your heart hardening then softening again, breaking then stitching itself back together, closing off then blooming like flowers on the first day of spring. You remember smiling only to cry then smile again. And you remember liking snow, a bit more than you thought you would. Because Hyunjin was there, holding your trembling hand, steadying it enough for you to rewrite your memories with winter.

So, you want to say thank you.

You do not wish to spell it out, because there are too many things to thank Hyunjin for and too few words to do so. Instead, you drag him to the farmer’s market near your home, and you tell him to help you pick flowers.

“I could be in bed watching my favorite show and yet here I am bestowing you with my enchanting presence,” he sighs, not too modestly, as you both eye the array of colorful blooms.

“Okay, Shakespeare, are you done?” you roll your eyes, attempting your best to hide your grin.

“Done annoying you? Never. These are very pretty,” he adds, pointing to the white roses in full bloom, their delicate petals emitting a sweet fragrance into the air.

“I agree, what else should we add?” you ponder, picking out four roses.

“Mm, Hibiscus? The red in the center is so vibrant,” he suggests, taking out his phone to capture the flower.

“Cute. Baby breath’s would look good too,” you say as you gather the flowers, heading to the cashier with Hyunjin trailing behind, still admiring the delicate blooms.

“Can I write a note?” you ask the middle-aged man as he wraps the bouquet in a powder blue paper.

“Sure,” he replies with a smile, and you return the gesture, quickly jotting down your words.

“Are you done?” Hyunjin grins when you return to his side and you nod, exiting the flower shop.

“What do you think?” you ask, angling the bouquet towards him.

“It's beautiful.”

“It’s yours,” you smile, growing shier at the intensity of his gaze as it lands on you, then the flowers, then on you again. “Take it,” you hand it to him, your cheeks flushing like the hibiscus’s crimson core.

“Actually?” he says softly, his fingers trembling slightly as he accepts the flowers and you nod in response. You bite your lip as you watch him take out the note, his eyes softening once he reads the words inscribed in it— thank you for making my winter less cold.

“Should we go?” you say a tad too cheerfully, turning away, but Hyunjin grabs your wrist, spinning you around once more. His fingers trail up your arm, coming to rest gently on your cheek as he leans down to plant a tender kiss there.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, his lips lingering against your skin for a moment longer than necessary. You think that if his soft lips grace your skin a few times more, your nerve endings might forget the harshness they were subjected to. If his gentle hands remain on your cheeks, then maybe, your heart would heal quicker, better. Maybe your past self that you long for would emerge again, maybe Hyunjin would be able to unearth it.

Your hopeful thoughts disappear as quickly as they arrive, overshadowed by a sense of helplessness that crashes over you, all of the sudden. You sense him before you hear him, the familiar anxiety that is only synonymous with your ex’s presence.

“Yn?” the sound of your name feels harsher in his mouth, the syllables spat out rather than spoken tenderly, as they are when Hyunjin pronounces it. Your veins run cold as his voice pierces the air, your heart skipping three beats at once before plummeting to your knees. You wrap your hand around Hyunjin’s forearm instinctively, and he looks down at you, his expression morphing into one of concern.

You’re unsure of what he sees in you— whether it is your pale face, the quiver of your lower lip, or the fear that has coated all your features— but his eyes harden, his brows furrowing as he gazes at the man behind you.

You refuse to turn around, bracing yourself for his next words. “Yn,” he repeats his tone laced with anger, his fingertips grazing your arm as if intending to force you to face him. But before he can touch you, Hyunjin intervenes, swiftly stepping in between you and your ex, shielding you with his own body protectively.

“Leave,” Hyunjin's voice is cold, dripping with a venomous edge you've never heard from him before, his jaw clenching with barely contained fury.

“Is this your new shiny toy, Yn?” your ex taunts and his voice cuts through your being against your will, triggering a flood of memories you've tried so desperately to suppress. Memories of his cruelty, his manipulation, and the pain he inflicted upon you—using your love as a weapon to bolster his own ego.

“What's in it for you?” you find your voice again, though it trembles when you speak. He is the very embodiment of your pain and everything you loathe about yourself. You wish for the ground to swallow you whole, for a bolt of lightning to strike the earth, anything to spare you from facing him.

“It's only been three months, I didn't know you were a whore.”

Hyunjin's fist connects with his cheek before you can register his words. It all unfolds so rapidly that you barely have time to comprehend it. Your ex staggers back, blood trickling from the cut on his lip, while Hyunjin stands before you, his chest heaving with restrained anger, his right hand clenched into a fist, the bouquet still held tightly in the other.

“Fine, I deserved it,” your ex chuckles, his voice laced with mockery as he wipes the blood from his lip. His gaze meets yours briefly behind Hyunjin's back.

“You might not be a whore but you are unlovable, keep that in mind.” He spits out before walking away, crude words that tear at every scab covering your wounds, reopening them with a brutal force. Hyunjin moves to follow him, but you grab his shirt, pulling him back.

“He’s not worth it,” you murmur.

Your words seem to snap Hyunjin out of his haze as he turns to look at you, worry cast across his figure. He moves to cradle your cheeks but you step back, refusing to meet his eyes. He swallows thickly, clutching the bouquet in his hands. “Are you okay?”

You let out a heavy sigh, your shoulders slumping as you shake your head slightly. “Let's just go home,” you whisper, eyes fleeting to his for a split second. All the lights in your gaze are muted.

You’re crumbling before him once again and he cannot stop it, no matter how much he yearns to.

It's long past midnight when you find yourself seated on the floor of your living room, a bottle of red wine placed between you and Hyunjin. You exchange it wordlessly, taking turns sipping from it, the alcohol warming your insides but doing little to ease the ache in your heart. You don’t exactly recall when Hyunjin sat next to you, but you don’t mind. You were too lost in your own thoughts to even register his presence.

“Yn,” he calls out softly and you hum absentmindedly, memories of when your ex spoke your name haunting you, each time he yelled your name, uttered it in disdain as if it was the starting point of everything wrong with you.

“Talk to me, please?” he pleads, angling his body towards your own. But you refuse to meet his eyes and Hyunjin’s heart twists in his chest. He is afraid of all the ugly thoughts that must roam your mind. He wishes he could enter it, open the windows wide, and usher the light in.

“I'm sorry you were dragged into this,” you say, your gaze fixated on the bouquet placed atop the table. The crimson painted on the hibiscus’ petals reminds you of the blood that spilled from your ex’s mouth, and your gaze fleets to Hyunjin's hand, slightly bruised from the punch.

“Don’t apologize,” he whispers, “there is nothing to be sorry for.”

It’s as though you don’t hear him, your fingers trailing gently across his scraped knuckles, tears pooling in your eyes the more you stare at his hand.

“Does it hurt?” you ask, voice thick with emotion, and Hyunjin’s quick to shake his head. “No, don’t worry about it. He deserved it.”

“You didn’t deserve to be hurt.”

“Neither did you.”

Your disbelieving scoff that follows scares him. What if you’re slipping away into a dark place yet again, one void and barricaded, in which the only sound that echoes is your ex’s hurtful words? What if he can’t reach you again?

“If the only person I’ve ever loved says I’m unlovable then maybe I am.”

You’re drunk, you wouldn’t have said such an ugly thing otherwise, wouldn’t have allowed this sentiment to materialize into the air, to take a tangible form apart from your abstract thoughts.

“No,” Hyunjin says in a panic as though he’s trying to quickly pull the brakes on your free-railing thoughts. He cups your face between his palms, your tears falling freely atop his hands but he does not move away.

“No,” he repeats, more calmly this time. “How he treated you is a reflection of who he is. And how you see him is a reflection of who you are. And you wanted him to be loving because you’re full of love. You wanted him to be good because you are a good person. And he can’t stomach that, can’t stomach that you are happy without him so he’s trying to ruin you again.”

“Hyunjin…” you shake your head but he only inches closer to you, his thumbs gently caressing your cheekbones. “No, listen to me. Seungmin loves you so much he couldn’t eat properly for the first few days you stayed here, texted me all the time asking me how you were and if you were feeling better. He isn't good with words so instead he tries to make you laugh. He wishes he could give up parts of his happiness for you.”

A sob swells within you but Hyunjin presses on. “And Minho, he tried to memorize all your favorite recipes so he could cook them for you. It isn’t a coincidence that every time we go over to their dorm it is your favorite food that we eat. He takes more pictures of his cats these days so he could send them to you because he knows it cheers you up.”

“You told me Changbin doesn’t know you well enough to fight for you but when we saw your ex across the campus one day he wanted to get up and beat him. He always asks me if you are well and if there is something he can do for you, anything.”

He inhales deeply, tears welling up in his eyes as well. “And me…” a tender smile graces his lips as he gazes at you, “you make this house a home. I feel like my true self when you are around and loneliness doesn’t come to me as often as it did. Because you are here. You are like a beam of sunlight that lightens up every life you touch, mine first,” he’s baring his soul to you, vulnerable yet resolute. “So tell me, Yn, what’s not to love in you when you yourself are so full of love?”

“Hyune,” you speak the nickname for the first time, and Hyunjin’s heart thrashes achingly around his ribcage. “If you keep talking like this I might end up loving you,” you smile sadly at him as if it is a terrible thing to be loved by you.

“But I don’t want to love you, because I won’t know how to, not anymore. So I'll end up leaving. And I'll long for you, and I don't think I can stomach longing for you from afar.”

“So please,” you place one hand atop his own, wipe away the lone tear rolling down his cheek. “Don’t make me love you, hm? You deserve more than to be loved by someone like me.”

You leave Hyunjin in the living room, alone before the white flowers you gifted him. He doesn’t want to put them away in a vase, for as soon as he grabbed them from your hold, everything around you both crumbled. So he leaves them there for the night, the creamy white petals aglow underneath the moonlight. He spends the night painting the bouquet from memory, but the petals end up too tinged with red, perhaps mirroring the blood his heart refuses to stop spilling still.

He did not realize it before, maybe he blinded himself so he wouldn’t see what was before him all along. But it is all the clearer to him now— that in his attempts to make you love winter again, Hyunjin only ended up loving you.

A week later.

hyune [1:25 a.m.]: i miss you

You and Hyunjin spent the last seven days avoiding one another, well you more than him. He just understood your silent plea when you took a step back the one time he tried to talk to you in the kitchen, swallowing thickly before inching away, allowing you to move past him.

You did not know how to face him after what he said, partly because you were embarrassed by your own response, mostly because even in your drunken daze, his words etched themselves permanently into your memory.

It is his reassuring words that echoed in your brain for the past week, not those of your ex.

hyune [1: 26 a.m.]: and i miss sleeping on the couch

You giggle, shaking your head before replying.

yn [1:26 a.m.]: no you don’t

hyune [1:26 a.m.]: no i don’t ㅠㅠ

but i finished the song

wanna hear?

Walking to Hyunjin’s room feels as familiar as going into your own. And when your gaze finally meets his you can’t help but break into a relieved smile. It was foolish of you to punish yourself, enough people have done that for you already.

“Hey,” he greets tentatively, and you respond with an awkward wave, a moment pregnant with anticipation passes before both of you dissolve into laughter.

“What is this? Are we in middle school,” he teases and you giggle, settling comfortably on his bed once more.

“I know. We are so lame.”

“You are,” he corrects with a grin and you gasp, pretending to leave but he quickly catches your hand, stopping you. “No, please stay. I meant it when I said that I missed you,” he repeats quietly, as if afraid that his confession would make you run away once again.

Your heart aches, the knots in your stomach tightening and unraveling all at once. “I missed you too,” you admit softly, and he smiles, his thumb tracing a gentle path above your pulse before releasing your hand.

“So it's done then?” you ask and he nods, running a hand through his hair with a hint of anxiety. “How do you feel about it?”

“Good. I hope you’ll like it, mostly.”

“I'm sure I will,” you reassure him with a soft smile, and he nods once more, pressing a few buttons before his melodious whistles fill the air once again.

Nothing could have braced you for the sound of Hyunjin's voice that followed, its timbre soft as silk yet imbued with profound sorrow. It's as though he recorded the song on one of his loneliest nights, his honeyed vocals dipped in an excruciating nostalgia that seeps into every corner of the room, every corner of your heart.

In the faded photo, I come across a smile spread across a youthful face, overlapped with the seasons.

Your gaze flickers to Hyunjin as a shadow of recollection dawns on you. You remember telling him that you couldn’t stomach looking at pics of your past, ones in which you smiled so freely because you were blissfully unaware of what was to come.

The night’s so cold that it’s almost unreal.

Because you weren’t aware of the winter that will follow and the biting cold that it would bear, for everything that will go astray in your relationship, for your ex's facade to crack like a glacier succumbing to the pressure of lies and pretense.

I wake up in another silence, and I close my eyes.

You remember Hyunjin confessing that silence haunted him more than words ever could, and you had agreed, sharing how sometimes you shut your eyes, pretending that the reality you woke up to wasn't the one you were living.

The white flower we planted together has bloomed. I do not dare pick it. Now it withers away.

You gaze at the white flowers you brought him, now wilted in the vase placed on his desk, yet Hyunjin refuses to throw them still. You see the card you wrote for him hung on the wall, right next to the dried red rose. He kept it. Though it withered, he kept it all.

So I long for you. And I long for you. And I'll long for you.

You remember the longing you both spoke of, how he understood a feeling you felt so incredibly alone in. How he tried to reassure you when he too was caught in the webs of the past. How you longed for him in the past week. How you wished he longed for you just the same.

So I can keep loving you. So I could be loving you. And morе.

The violin swells and so does the emotion in your chest. You remember him asking you ‘What’s not to love in you’ and how you've spun those words in your thoughts ever since. You remember thinking that if he gave you a few more weeks, just a bit more time, you might have found it in you to believe them.

You see Hyunjin’s glimmering eyes holding yours, you see his heart atop a platter handed to you, and you see the resignation in his being. Don’t make me love you, you told him. You didn’t dare to tell him not to love you in return, deemed it too foolish of thought to entertain.

For he was Hwang Hyunjin, the quiet producer who paints in his free time and who wears his heart on his sleeve. Who remains hopeful, loving, and tender, despite the thorns pricking at his side. Who is beautiful, so much so that he allowed you to see beauty in the universe once again, through his eyes.

How could he love you?

How could you not love him?

“The song,” you whisper, the words barely escaping your lips as you stand, trembling, on your feet. Hyunjin rises too, meeting you in the center of his room.

“It is about you. For you,” he says simply as if his words don’t cause your world to burst at the seams only to mend itself once again, too eager to fix itself and exist in the same timeline as Hyunjin.

“I don't… I don’t know what to say,” you say earnestly, feeling your heart pound in your chest, its beats resounding loudly in your ears.

It is wrong of you to assume he wishes you to say something. He is Hyunjin, the one who finds words in your silences too, after all.

“I don’t need you to say anything,” he shakes his head, taking another step closer to you. “I don't want an answer, I don't wish to pressure you. I just wanted to tell you that my love is here, it is yours to take or to leave, to cherish or to discard. But it is yours, because this is who I am. I am someone who loves you.”

“So do not tell me to forget you because I don't know how to. And don’t tell me that you’ll leave because I will love you still, because you’d still be you, near or far, you are you. And you are someone I long for.” He pauses, his voice softening. “And I long for you, Yn, more than anything I've ever longed for. And I've spent all my life longing.”

His lips meet your forehead tenderly, and you feel your entire being grow limp at the chaste kiss, as if your limbs wish to liquefy and form a puddle on the floor. His touch is soft, and you miss it the moment he parts from you.

“There must be something in this room that keeps on making you cry,” he smiles and you bring your hands to your damp cheeks, surprised to find there tears you didn’t realize had fallen.

“It’s you,” you pinch his arm playfully and he squirms away from your hold, stabbing his toe on the desk in the process. A loud fuck echoes around the room, and your laughter dissipates the tension clinging into the air.

“Can you play it again?” you request softly and Hyunjin’s theatrics fade as a shy smile tugs at the corner of his lips.

“Is it good?”

“It's everything to me.”

“It's called ‘long for you’, by the way.”

“Long for you,” you repeat quietly. There has never been a prettier combination of words.

The title all but makes sense as you lay on the bed, your gaze fixed on the paintings hung on the wall, Hyunjin sketching quietly on his desk, the song resonating softly in the background. You've longed for many things in your life—the person you once were and the tender love you once craved—but amidst it all, nothing has weighed heavier on your heart than the longing for the man sitting just two meters away, almost in your loving grasp. Almost.

❁ ❁ ❁

It is an excruciating five days that Hyunjin spends apart from you, the both of you too caught up in your assignments to find a moment to properly speak. But you do not shy away from him when he greets you, and your grin is kind as it drapes across his being, and Hyunjin swears he has never seen a prettier sight than you smiling.

On the sixth night, Hyunjin completes the cover for the song— a figure wrapped around itself protectively, mirroring the way you hug yourself in your sleep. He hangs it on the wall, right next to your thank you card and the white bouquet he drew once again, wishing to properly immortalize its beautiful flowers, to purify that memory from the tumult that followed it.

On the sixth night, the house is quiet, the full moon high up in the sky, snowflakes falling softly to the ground. Hyunjin wonders if you too mimicked the snow’s descent— both of you falling apart with it.

But then, there’s a knock on his door.

His heart catches in his throat, his body freezing as if it forgot how to move. You are here.

“Come in,” he manages to say, his voice barely above a whisper. You push the door open, and Hyunjin's words wilt on his tongue as he sees what you're carrying—another bouquet, filled with white flowers, yet again.

“Hey,” you smile, standing by the door.

He remains silent, unsure of what to say, or how to speak. He longs for you when you are away, even more so when you’re before him.

“We shouldn't let these white flowers wither away too, right?” you smile slightly, placing the bouquet on the desk before walking to Hyunjin’s bedside. His voice falters, vocal cords refusing to move and overshadow your voice.

You sit beside him, gently pulling his hand so that you’d both lie on the pillows. Your hand doesn’t leave his own, instead, it moves to rest on his cheek, reminiscent of the many times he had cradled your face before. Inch by inch, you close the gap between you, nuzzle the tip of your nose against his own. “Hi, Hyune”, you say softly, and he swallows thickly, his voice coming out just as quietly.

“Hi, my Yn.”

“If we take care of the white flowers together do you think they’ll survive a bit longer?” you ask, your gaze never wavering from his, countless stars twinkling in the depths of your irises.

“I believe so,” he says tentatively, too aware of the warmth of your palm against his skin, of the sweet ache unfurling within his being.

“Mm, and even if they wilt we can always buy new ones. We can learn how to care for them better, with time,” you say, and he nods in agreement, laying his hand atop your own, tilting his head to bestow a chaste kiss on your palm.

“With time,” he echoes softly and you smile, vulnerable yet secure in his gray sheets, in his hold.

“Will you give me time too?” you ask, and Hyunjin reads in your eyes what you mean, understands in the shake of your voice the question you are too afraid to voice. Will he give you time to heal in order to love?

“As long as you need. I’m not going anywhere,” he reassures, pressing his forehead gently atop yours, and you both close your eyes, as a running warmth encloses you both, blooms a blush on both your cheeks.

His arms wrap around your back, drawing you close until your chests are pressed together, your head resting naturally in the curve of his neck. And it is long forgotten in your mind, all the nights you slept in this very bed alone. You feel safe, safe enough to long for love knowing that it patiently awaits you behind the door, once you find enough courage to turn the doorknob. You feel serene, as Hyunjin’s warm palms glide soothingly up and down your spine, as every muscle, every nerve, every atom in your being relaxes in his hold.

You are healing, slowly, with each fleeting second that passes in which Hyunjin’s heartbeat resounds within your chest, as its melody runs through your veins, melds with your own as if it was destined to be there all along. As you rest in Hyunjin, as you find a safe home within his soul to discard your worries at the doorstep and breathe.

“It did get better,” you whisper, pressing a kiss to his shoulder blade. “Hm?” He leans back to look at you, and he’s so beautiful, so tender as he gazes at you, you can’t help but trace the contours of his face with your fingers, hoping to commemorate him with your eyes, with your touch.

“You promised me it’ll get better, and it did,” you smile, as your legs further intertwine with his, and his rose perfume becomes an indelible mark on your skin. “Too bad I can't hit your pretty face now,” you joke and he giggles, tipping his head back.

He's so beautiful, body and soul, and he longs for you, you alone.

“But I can still do this,” you murmur before finally pressing your lips against his like a boat finally reaching the shore after months of sailing. You both exhale, in yearning, in relief, as your mouths move together in a slow, languid dance, his hand finding the pulse on your neck, yours settling atop his jaw.

He would kiss you again, this intimately, in the coming months, when your heart expands enough to contain the love Hyunjin deserves. He would kiss you again, when your past comes to haunt you, and healing sounds like an elusive myth you’d never encounter in your life.

And he would kiss you again, over the kitchen table and under the fridge’s light, in between paintings and in supermarket aisles, while picking flowers and watching the first snow.

He would kiss you, this tenderly, in the next winter, and the ones after it, as if his longing for you never wanes. Till blow three disappears from your memory, till all you remember is the love, the true one, the kind one, the soft one Hyunjin alone could have brought you.

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yndrgrl · 9 months

Text

yandere! kiribaku are your gym crushes, & you're their obsession

long ass fic. polyamory. quirkless! au. established! kiribaku. switch! kiribaku

warning: nsfw, voyerism, kiribaku seggsy time, stalking, spit-roasting, double penetration, cockwarming

a/n: i hope y'all like big boyz (please request scenarios) also can someone tell me how to reply to comments or something... idk how to. also writing this took forever cuz it kept deleting parts frfr

let's be mutuals :) insta: thebufferfish

---

kirishima was the first one to notice you out of the pair. you showed up at the gym an hour after him & bakugou arrived. something drew him to you, his eyes trailing you into the locker room.

you didn't wear anything "high fashion" per se, just what you felt confident in. boy, did it show. you walked back out with a certain aura around you-- sure, ready to work, & determined. whatever goal you had in mind for that training session, you were going to achieve it, kirishima could tell.

"oi! what are you looking at, shitty hair?" bakugou scowled as he arose from the bench, reracking the weight then followed his boyfriend's eyes. he saw your figure facing away from him. you were on the treadmill at walking speed. his breath hitched for a moment, but he blamed it on working out. he tried to rationalize that he hasn't even -technically- seen you, & you're probably just an extra in his movie anyways.

after your warmup, you went for a squat rack, where you would stay for a good portion of your workout. you started off with squats-- tried & true. you had big, bulky headphones on & your hair tied up out & away from your face.

bakugou & kirishima got a good look at your face through the reflection of the giant mirror that lined the walls. you loaded your weight for your warmup, & bakugou scoffed.

"what is that chick even doing?" he rolled his eyes to kirishima, turning his back on you. he swatted away any curiosity that he had for you.

he heard you rerack the weight, take off the clip, & slide off your warmup weight. he examined kirishima's usual happy expression turned into one of shock, approval, & a hint of arousal. bakugou would've been offended, jealous, cursing his boyfriend with every name under the sun due to this reaction.

"what is it now?" he groaned, turning his head back to face you. he was expecting maybe you flashed kirishima, maybe you somehow seduced him with siren power, but he wasn't expecting you, with a leather weightlifting belt strapped against your stomach, squatting way more than expected. if they were being honest, it almost looked inhuman, yet you had no indication that you were struggling.

kirishima breathed out, "you know, kats, she's actually kind of strong."

bakugou knew kirishima, of course he did. he knows all the little tendencies he does when he feels a certain way. when he's nervous, he has a smile that's stretched a little too wide; when he's angry, his normally-bright red eyes turn blood crimson-- almost black. that's why, when he saw his partner adjust his pants & bite his lip, he knew kirishima was undoubtedly attracted & turned on.

"is that all it takes to get you going?" bakugou barked at the redhead, angered, not because he was jealous, but because he was puzzled. truly puzzled. he was so content with the life that him & kirishima had, the routine they fell into. wake up together, get ready & eat breakfast together, have some morning fun, go to the gym, work, come home, have more fun, sleep. that was their life.

yet here comes you, a random stranger with the brute strength of hercules & the beauty of a goddess. you wrecked their unsaid routine.

"what are you talking about?" kirishima questioned when he tore his eyes away from you. he just watched you add more weight to your next set.

"are you that easy?"

"katsuki, you're one to talk," kirishima laughed, switching positions with his partner so he could begin his set of bench press. "i saw you look straight at her ass, & don't deny it 'cuz i watched your eyes."

"i don't know what you're talking about," katsuki growled. his boyfriend unloaded the weight, bringing the weight down to his chest then pushing it back up. even when struggling under a mass of metal, kirishima had a small smile on his face.

"yeah, you do," kirishima uttered out between his reps. "i can see your hard-on right now."

"shut up!" bakugou yelled. kirishima & bakugou's eyes darted towards you & met your semi-scared gaze in the mirror.

"katsuki," kirishima reracked his weights then sat up.

bakugou lowered his voice, saying, "listen, shitty hair, i'll admit that she got me a little bit hard, okay? but i'm not going to do anything about it, i'm loyal to you-"

"i want you to," kirishima laughed, cutting off his partner's endearing, aggressive rant.

"what?"

"i want you to do stuff to her," the redhead reiterated, "i want to do stuff to her. honestly we're both attracted to her, & i wouldn't mind sharing you if it's with someone like her."

"what if we get to know her?" kirishima suggested, sly smirk glued on his face. bakugou couldn't help but copy.

that night, after snooping through your gym bag when you went to the restroom, they found out your name was y/n l/n & your instagram username, thanks to your notifications.

over a quick dinner they made when they got home, they scrolled through your posts. they learned that you were nineteen, three years younger than them. they found what college you're studying at & what major you went into. more importantly, they found all the progress pictures, selfies, & outfit-of-the-day pictures.

whether it was posts themselves or past stories, they screenshot them all. every single one. the more they looked at you, the more they realized how good of a choice they're making by perusing you-- not that you knew that yet.

then they found the gold mine. you're a college girl trying to live it up while you're still young, that much they gathered. what they didn't expect was to see you & your friends (the important part is you though) in costume that bordered lingerie. the post's caption was, "baby rave!"

it felt sinful to see you in such a way. at the gym, you're pristine, well-mannered. in this post, however, you are a complete party girl with lights of different colors radiating, confetti in your hair, & an alcohol-induced flush on your face.

you wore a dark red bikini top that barely held your breasts. metallic chains draped around your body, all connected by a black pearl choker. your bottom matched the top, & you wore ripped-up fishnets underneath.

if bakugou & kirishima were there that night, they would've fucked all of your holes in the middle of the mosh pit.

grunts & sloppy slurps echoed off the walls of the room they shared. "ah, fuck, eijiro," bakugou groaned, his eyes shifting to the man sucking his cock to the pictures of you at a rave, letting your friends jokingly squeeze all over you. he wishes that was him & his boyfriend's hands all over you.

kirishima coughed, spit & pre-cum mixed sliding down bakugou's cock. "choke on that dick, babe," the blonde taunted. in response, kirishima shoved his head down onto his length then moaned. the vibrations sent shock waves through bakugou through the tip & into the rest of his body.

not long after, bakugou forced kirishima on his feet. he stood with him, both of their impressive sizes in his grasp, pressed against each other. he spat onto kirishima's girth, & already was kirishima jacking his hips forward for friction. "god, fuckin' do it already," demanded the redhead, biting his lip. bakugou stroked their cocks simultaneously as kirishima crashed his chapped lips against his.

soon, they were moaning into each other's mouths, eyes cracked open to see the picture of you propped now on the bedside lamp. "oh fuck, i need her so bad," bakugou admitted, & kirishima's heart leaped out of his throat. he could've won a marathon with how wide his panting smile was.

"tell me how bad you need her, kats~" kirishima said as he slipped out of his boyfriend's grasp & got behind the blonde. he reached around bakugou's waist, making him face the photo of you with your hands spreading your ass ever so slightly, only fishnets & a bikini bottom covering your most precious parts.

the bulky redhead, with his other hand, lined his tip with bakugou's hole. "i need her bouncing on my cock while she's choking on your massive fuckin' dick," bakugou responded, & he was rewarded with kirishima pushing past his entrance with his tip & him pumping faster.

"what else? that can't be the only thing," kirishima laughed. "i know how crazy you can actually be."

"'gonna ruin her so bad, she'll only need us. god, she's gonna become our cute, little house wife."

"oh yeah?" kirishima pushed his entire shaft into bakugou asshole, & they groaned together. bakugou leaned his body into the bigger man, shutting his eyes as kirishima pumped him hard, thrusting in & out of him.

"fuck yeah," said bakugou, "she's gonna -harder, bastard- she's gonna our fucktoy house wife, addicted to our cock. i'm gonna fill her up every night of the rest of her life, i swear to god."

they both looked back at your picture, your stunning body, every curve & every muscle & every stretch mark. they were obsessed, needy. "f-fuck, ei, i'm gonna cum," bakugou choked out, brows furrowed & concentrated on your photo.

"me t-too," kirishima said, thrusting harder into his boyfriend. thinking about you already felt good, so what would it feel like if you were actually here? they both wondered. great minds think alike, after all.

in kirishima's hand, bakugou's cock started to throb, jets of cum shooting out & onto your picture, all over the night stand. kirishima followed in suit; he pulled his cock out of bakugou's gaping hole & jerked himself off to you. "y-y/n," he moaned, releasing his cum all over you.

you didn't know any of this, you didn't know just how badly they wanted you, what they did to the mere thought of you. you were unaware of a lot of things, it seemed to them. you didn't know how perfect you were, always hiding your stomach by crossing your arms over it when you sat down. you didn't know how much you teased them when you swayed your hips.

& you didn't know how much you ruined their daily routine.

they found themselves less present at the well-oiled machine of a company they own; not that it mattered, they only go for a few hours every week just for check ups. they spend an ungodly amount of time at the gym, taking note what time you show up on certain days. they figured out your workout routine, what machines you like using, how often you refill your water bottle, what supplements you take.

you couldn't help but notice them as well-- not to the extent they notice you though.

they were eye-catching, everyone in the room would find themselves magnetized to their hulking selves.

bakugou was intimidating, wearing tank tops & loose fitting pump covers. he was at least six foot two, weighing in at 230 pounds of nothing but pure, raw muscle. he looked like he was born with a scowl on his face. unkept, wild ash-blonde hair, a small stubble growing in neatly.

kirishima was the opposite. he was approachable, a friendly giant. he was bigger than his counterpart, standing at a terrifying six foot six & weighing nearly 300 pounds. he was always found with a smile on his face-- happy to be there. he wore tight fitting, long sleeve shirts. small scars littered his hands & clean-kept face.

they shared one thing though, their demon red eyes, lasered in with focus & intent.

you noticed them & how ridiculously handsome they were. just from their appearances, they were just your type.

you moved into the city from a small town on a full-ride scholarship to the local university. you wanted to experience everything city life had to offer because everything was different. from the concerts to the markets to the men. no one would ever describe you as meek in most aspects of your life. in school, you were hard-working; in your career, you were ambitious! however, when it came to your love life, you were subtle.

other girls approached the two musclemen, chatting & giggling. you watched as the girls gave them their socials before leaving to finish their workout. you, on the other hand, would use a machine close to the one they were using. yup. that was it. that was your grand, big gesture of flirtation & seduction.

when you got lucky & they would look your way, you averted you eyes every time with a dark blush (that you blamed on your workout) as heat flashed through your body. you were only meant to watch from afar, you thought.

bakugou was the first to approach you. blunt as ever, too. it made kirishima want to die of embarrassment. "oi! you!" he called out, but you could barely hear his voice through your noise-canceling headphones. you pushed one side off of your ear, turning your head to see who he was talking to. it was you. "you new here?"

it's been two weeks since you started going to this particular gym, which means it's been two weeks since they've been trying to get your attention so you'd talk with them.

"oh, uh, yeah, i am," you told them as you slid off your headphones, letting them hang on your neck. the music buzzed quietly, you doubt they could hear the song. "j-just moved here." you cleared your throat. since when do i stutter, you mentally face-palmed.

"really? from where?" kirishima butted in. them standing in front of you, only a few feet away made you feel tiny.

you said the name of your town, & bakugou snorted, "i've never even heard of that place. sounds lame."

"compared to here, it is. there's nothing to do over there besides working out & hike," you said with a small smile. most people said that about your town so you never really took offense.

"how do you like it here?" kirishima asked.

you could gush about the city all day. you didn't want to bore them though. "i love it here! there's always something to do. the other day i went to my first rave, & there were more people there than people that live in my old town!"

kirishima laughed at your sudden excitement. they were both relieved that you weren't a raging bitch, that you had such a sweet, lovely personality. truly, beautiful inside & out.

in the city, it was so hard to find gems, yet, without even needing to look, they found you. that must mean that you were meant to be theirs, right?

"tch, you probably aren't that interesting, huh?" the ashen blonde spat, even though he was completely enamored by you.

it caught you by surprise. "you're one to talk, big guy. i've probably lived more life than you," you barked back, half-jokingly & half-warning.

with a staggered laugh & a glance at his amused/annoyed partner, kirishima said, "you got a bite on ya', i like that. please excuse him, he's intimidated by pretty ladies like you."

the people back in your old town always told you that city boys had no charm, that they weren't capable of actual romantic emotion, but this red-haired, toothy-grinned man is proving them all wrong. he was smooth with words, easing your mind.

"i'm eijiro, by the way," he said to you with his hand outstretched.

you secured your weights before taking his hand, to which he gently turned yours & placed a chaste kiss on your knuckles as you were introducing yourself. "i-i'm y/n."

anyone else would've been unbelievably jealous that their hunk of a boyfriend is -very clearly- flirting with another person, but bakugou honestly didn't care. in fact, he was giving eijiro a look that told him to keep going. bakugou knew that, out of the two of them, eijiro was more inviting.

you turned your attention away from eijiro. bakugou took this as a sign to introduce himself. "katsuki."

"katsuki," you repeated, holding out your hand to shake his. "got it, i'm y/n," you said in case he didn't hear you the first time.

the only ones who call him by his first name is his parents, his hunk of a boyfriend, & now, you.

eijiro & katsuki shot a look over you. "do it" eijiro could practically hear his partner demand. "so, y/n, have you been to any good restaurants?"

"there's a few i really like! i haven't seen any with my favorite food though," you said, & that made you remember that you were insanely hungry. as if on cue, your stomach grumbled in complaint. embarrassed, you tried to cough to cover up the fact you could eat a horse & then the whole barn.

eijiro shot you a smile. if he heard your stomach, he didn't say anything. instead, he offered, "what's your favorite food? i promise you that kats & i know a place."

you told them what your favorite food. they already knew though; you loved to post about it on your instagram highlights.

"no way, we were just about to head out to get some! you should come with," eijiro offered.

"i-i don't know," you said as you rubbed your arm. what if he's just being nice? what if he felt like he needed to invite you? those questions & then some circled your head.

"what don't you know, sweetheart?" eijiro questioned as he took your hand again, his thumb grazing over your knuckles. "we're not scaring you, are we?"

"n-no! that's not it!" you quickly denied. you didn't mean to give them that impression-- even though you were slightly intimidated by them. however, you were more nervous than anything. your two gym crushes are, not only, in front of you, not only talking to you, but inviting you to a restaurant with them. in your delusions, you pretended that it was a two-way date, even though it was just a friend hangout for sure.

"then what is it, baby?"

"you can just say you don't wanna go," katsuki said, rolling his eyes.

of course you wanted to go! it was a dream to have an opportunity to get closer to the two. "i do wanna go!"

"okay, then what's stopping you?" katsuki scoffed.

you admitted sheepishly, "i kinda spent a lot the other day on groceries & things from amazon."

eijiro was silent at first, then started laughing. "you're cute," he sighed as he let your hand go.

"listen, he didn't ask if you had money. he asked if you wanted to come with us, dumbass," katsuki said with a smirk. eijiro & him, before approaching you, had a long talk about how he needed to be nicer, so his lips turning upward ever so slightly was his "nicer."

"kats," eijiro warned, narrowing his eyes at his partner. katsuki gave a shrug as a response.

"i mean," you began, their attention turning towards you, "if you say it like that, i couldn't miss out on some good food." like a weight being lifted off of eijiro's chest, he let out a deep sigh of relief.

after you finish your last set, you headed to the locker room to freshen up while they waited for you. you fixed your hair, applied more deodorant just in case, & change your shirt-- also just in case.

they led you out of the gym, katsuki slightly in front of you. though his rough exterior, you saw how he was trying to be gentlemanly by making sure you were following him to the car. eijiro, once the car was unlocked, opened the passenger-side door for you. "are you sure?" you questioned while he slid off your duffel bag from off your shoulder.

he replied back, "yeah, i sit up there all the time anyways. it's tons more comfortable in the back for me."

you reluctantly sat in the front seat. the redhead threw himself into the back, placing your bag on the ground beside his.

katsuki slid into the driver's seat with his gym bag in hand. the moment eijiro sat up properly, katsuki threw his bag at his face.

laughter bubbled from you as you gasped out, "that was so mean!"

"yeah, that's why i did it," katsuki replied, getting more giggles out of you. he was in cloud 9, & so was eijiro. katsuki let himself relax to your laughter, falling for your voice. it was ten million times better than his favorite song, & if he had to choose his top band of all time or your voice, he'd never listen to the band ever again. eijiro would allow himself to get hit in the face with katsuki's duffle bag a thousand more times to see that expression on your face. smile wide, mouth agape, as you laughed for him.

"jerk," eijiro muttered, slapping the driver's shoulder.

"whatever," katsuki replied as he backed up the car, "it made the pretty girl over here laugh, so i don't really care if i was being a jerk."

you blushed at katsuki's sudden compliment. eijiro also seemed surprised. "i didn't think you had it in you, kats," eijiro praised, you thought it was because eijiro was just being a supportive friend. the other two knew that it was because of something deeper, something they've worked through in their relationship.

"hey, i got an idea," eijiro started, changing the topic, but you still couldn't get over how flirtatious the two were being. "how about we order takeout from the place? it's pretty busy around this time, so it'll be a wait until we actually get to sit down & eat. is that okay with you, y/n?"

"uh, yeah! if that's what you guys want to do, i don't mind," you said. "where would we eat though?"

"we can go back to our place?" eijiro suggested.

"yeah, i'd be okay with that as long as the two of you are okay with me coming over?"

"we are, don't worry," eijiro said, fishing his phone out of his gym bag. "i'm gonna start ordering, okay?"

while he ordered online, you began talking with katsuki. "i didn't know the two of you were roommates."

"roommates? yeah, i guess we're something like that," katsuki replied. he placed his right hand on the gear stick; he tapped his finger to the beat of the song you decided to play after they practically forced the aux cord into your hand.

"well what else would you call the two of you?"

"no, roommates describe us pretty well," katsuki lied. in his head, it wasn't technically lying. they split the chores, the bills, the rent, just like real roommates do. they grocery shop, they clean, they take turns mowing the lawn & keeping their plants green. the only difference is that they suck each other's dicks & fuck each other in the ass... roommates for sure.

katsuki glanced in the rear view mirror & made eye contact with eijiro. the shark-toothed man rolled his eyes with a knowing smile then continued to pay for your guys' food. he asked you earlier on the way out of the gym what you wanted to order to save time since he already planned in head you were going home with them.

"so how long have you guys been friends?" you asked to fill the silence.

"we've been friends since freshman year of high school," eijiro told you. he wasn't ready to reveal his relationship & how he wanted you to be a part of it yet as he didn't know your stance on polyamory.

"that's a long time! i don't have any friends from high school honestly," you recalled, your town was pretty small after all so all the people were just clones of each other, & it freaked you out.

"yeah, we're pretty good friends. i know kats here inside & out~"

by the time you arrived at the restaurant, the food was done & packaged. "i'll go get it, be right back," eijiro announced before getting out of the vehicle. katsuki had enough curtsy to park in the nearest space closest to the entrance.

"i'll come with you to get the drinks," katsuki said, unbuckling his seat belt. "just stay here & be pretty, easy enough, right?"

"oh, o-okay, i guess," you replied. the keys stayed in the ignition, air conditioner pumping cool air throughout the car. you pulled out your phone, texting your college friends about what was going on.

outside, eijiro pulled katsuki close, whispering in his ear, "be nice or i'll make you."

katsuki pried his lover's hand off of his neck with a scoff. "i am being nice. look at her, she doesn't care."

"i swear to god, katsuki, you're gonna fuckin' pay if you scare her off," eijiro threatened through gritted teeth. he brushed his fingers on katsuki's semi-hard cock through his sweatpants. eijiro took a deep breath, & katsuki stared at him with an amused expression.

by the time you looked up, they were already headed back with a plastic bag full of food & specialty drinks they wanted you to try. you smiled at the two of them, unlocking the doors when they got to the car. you didn't see the interaction between the two of them moments before. maybe if you did, you'd put two & two together.

the drive to their apartment only lasted a song & a half. you were expecting to pull into a regular, slightly warn-down apartment complex with four floors of rooms. instead, they drove into the parking lot of a glass building, a skyscraper to you-- just another tower to city folk.

"woah," you said, though you didn't mean to. "what is this?"

"it's where we live," katsuki said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"but... how? it's so fancy," you gasped.

katsuki parked the car as eijiro chirped, "you haven't even seen our apartment."

to call it an apartment was an understatement. it was a penthouse that could fit your apartment three time & still have room left. it was luxury at its finest, if you do say so yourself. you couldn't fathom how this could be someone's "regular."

the statement wall was nothing but glass, sunlight spilling into the living room. the high ceiling -along with the two men who towered over you- made you feel miniature. the decor matched the house, yet it didn't match eijiro or katsuki. it was pristine, minimalistic. when you pictured a boys' apartment, you thought it would be messy with random decor that don't match. hell, your dorm room was messier than their entire penthouse! at least, from what you could tell.

as they took off their shoes, you followed in suit. eijiro took you by the hand, saying, "allow me to give you a tour, sweetheart."

"i-if you insist," you stuttered out; you weren't used to the physical contact, even though it's happened a few times already. he showed you to the kitchen, which had a beautiful backdrop that complimented the countertop. all their kitchenware matched because why wouldn't it? even their barstools matched!

the dining space was nothing but a glass table with black chairs. the centerpiece was a black-tinted, glass pitcher with fake locks of wheat inside of it. "pretty cool, isn't it?"

"so fancy, i'm kind of nervous honestly," you half-joked, half-told-the-truth. seriously, who were these two? how could they afford this at their age? you figured they were around your age, maybe a few years older than you. you've met people who are twenty years older than you who don't have living spaces as nice as eijiro's & katsuki's.

"what? why?" asked eijiro, who sounded slightly offended. he caught that you were joking, but he was curious what made them so intimidating.

"it's just you guys are so put-together. i've never met anyone like the two of you," you told him, & it was true. you've never seen anyone so well-built in all aspects of their life.

eijiro laughed as he ran his fingertips through his spikey hair. "trust me, we had to work our asses off for this place. all the furniture & stuff came with it, so we never changed it."

he started to guide you to the living room, showing off all of their consoles that sat on the tv stand shelves. "any game you wanna play, we got," katsuki said from the kitchen, sounding proud of their collection.

"it's true. we love video games," eijiro told you with that same, charming grin that gets your face red. the way he kept flashing the smile made you think he knew how flustered it got you. "let me show you the rooms. that's probably the only place we decorated on our own."

as he led you through the hallway to the bedrooms, you took note of the framed pictures hung on the wall. it was a mixture of photos of katsuki & eijiro on their own & them two together. "you guys must be close," you stated, pointing out the obvious.

"yeah, we're really close," he said back. "believe it or not, but he's softened up over the years. katsuki used to be so much meaner back in high school."

"that's neat that you guys basically grew up together. i never really had like, a best friend," you revealed. you don't know why you were telling him this, you felt like you could though. "i'm jealous of people who can make those connections honestly."

"i lucked out. it's pretty hard to make deep connections, like you said," eijiro agreed, opening the door to guest room/office. "you make it sound like you've never had a relationship."

"i mean, technically i have," you admitted-- you didn't want to seem lame or inexperienced in front of him after all. "just not a long term one. it's hard dating in a small town where everyone already dated everyone else. you'd think that it be like, ten times easier to date in the city, but it's not!"

eijiro listened to your tangent, adoring how riled up you're getting. he didn't want you to stop, it was such an intimate moment -to him- that the two of you were sharing, just the two of you. "oh yeah? tell me more."

"my parents were right, city boys are so much more... direct. they can barely hold a conversation with me in person & over text then they flash me their... you know, thing. i mean, i get being horny & all, but i don't think i'd ever show off like that to get some. it doesn't actually work though, does it?"

"no, unsolicited nudes ever work. guys on dating sites are usually super desperate. you've already figured that out, huh?" eijiro asked, masking his anger (because you went out on dates with other guys) with fake interest. he already knows most things about you. it's not hard to get into chat logs if you know the right people.

"oh, yeah i have. i wasn't interested in this guy after one date, so i cut it off with him, but he kept texting me for two weeks straight. saying stuff like how i was a gold-digger then he'd apologize, asking for another chance."

"sounds terrible," eijiro replied as he exited the room, you following close behind. he opened the only other bedroom door, telling you briefly that it was his-- he's not a liar, he's just not telling the full truth. he sat down on the bed & offered a spot next to him so you can comfortably tell him all the things men did to you.

"maybe you're looking in the wrong places," said eijiro, his voice dropping an octave lower. his face inched closer to yours, but you didn't notice as you continued your rant.

"it is terrible! another guy took me on a date to this really nice restaurant & he brought both of his parents & his little sister! said something about how we were going to get married because it was god's plan. it was actually really scary at the time. i give up on dating."

"i don't even know where to look! i mean, i guess the gym is a good place to find guys with goals like mine; they're usually misogynists or taken though. you & katsuki are the only ones i'd actually date though, but you guys are swimming in girls-" you cut yourself off once you realized what you just said so clearly. "i mean, i know you guys aren't interested, & it's weird to have two crushes-"

"calm down, sweetheart," eijiro interrupted, & you looked up at him. you almost jumped once you saw how close he actually was. the tips of your noses nearly touched, his left hand was propped behind your back against the bed, his fingers toying with the waist of your pants. his other hand rested on your upper thigh. "i just need to know before i say anything more. do you think i can handle me?"

you nodded, shrinking away from him. could he hear how your heart pounded against your rib cage? your heartbeat rang in your ears as it muffled whatever he was saying. your voice was caught in your throat; you knew if you tried to talk, you'd just squeak.

"do you think you can handle katsuki?"

you nodded again.

"how do you feel about both of us? can you handle both of us?" his hand traveled up your body to cup your chin. all you could do was nod. you've never really thought about two men at once before until now. "use your words, y/n."

"i-i could d-date both of you," you said out of innocences. you didn't want him to know about all the dirty thoughts swimming through your head.

"ah-ah-ah~" he tsked. "i asked if you could handle us both because if you say yes, i promise you that you'll be more than just a date to us. you'll be our pretty, little girlfriend. so i'm going to ask you again; could you handle both of us?" you let your eyes wander for just a second. you saw katsuki leaning against the doorframe, a knowing smirk on his face. his hand readjusted his member, but it only brought attention to how it tented against his pants. you gulped.

"y-yes i can, i-i can h-handle both of you," you said, intrigued, curious. you could barely spit out that sentence before eijiro crashed his lips against yours. you let out a muffled squeak, & he took that as an invitation to let his tongue roam into your mouth.

a string of saliva connected the two of you when he pulled away from you. he turned to katsuki with a lusted expression with half-lidded eyes & a toothy grin. "you hear that, babe? she wants to be with us."

babe? you thought. babe is what you call a girlfriend... or a boyfriend. they watched as you finally realized why the two of them lived together, why the photos on the wall were them doing more-than-friend poses, why there wasn't another room for katsuki. "th-the two of you are, um, a-a thing?"

"took ya' long enough," katsuki taunted, sauntering towards the two of you. he grabbed eijiro by the throat, pulling him into a rough, passionate kiss. he threw his red-headed partner off of him as fast as he kissed him. he placed his hand behind your head, colliding your lips together.

once the two of you disconnected from each other, you tried to defend yourself. "i-i'm sorry! i r-really didn't know y-you two were dating!"

"yeah, we know," eijiro laughed, his hand roaming back down to your leg. "it doesn't matter though. you're worth sharing, you know that, sweetheart? you're so utterly beautiful that we couldn't help but fall for you. can you blame us?"

"you're just our type. motivated, real. you're just so fuckin' sexy," katsuki confessed. he sat down on the other side of you. he dragged you into another rough kiss, & eijiro latched his lips onto your neck. both of their hands began to touch you all over. eijiro's hand found itsway in between your legs, & you grinded against his thick fingers. katsuki's was under your shirt, under your bra, squeezing your flesh.

eijiro whispered in your ear as you made out with katsuki, "you want this, don't you? you really want us."

you moaned into katsuki's mouth as a "yes." your panties were stained with your slick at this point. your pussy throbbed in need, how much you needed them inside you. eijiro nipped at your neck again, marking you in hickeys & love bites. you threw your nervousness to the side as leaned against their arms. both of your hands started rubbing against their bulges. you pulled away katsuki, gently shoving him away. "y-you guys a-actually want me as a, you know, girlfriend?"

"we do, pretty girl. we want to be the only ones to love you, to need you. we're going to be the only ones you ever crave," eijiro purred into you ear as katsuki threw off his shirt. "tell me everything you're worried about so i can ease your mind~"

"a-are you sure you want me?" you uttered with a reddened face. this was nothing like you've ever experienced before.

katsuki butted in, "we fuckin' need you, idiot. how clear do i need to be." he grasped you by the throat, making it harder for you to breath. "i need you."

"i need you, too, sweetheart," eijiro whispered against your neck, which was littered with red marks. you didn't even realize that he stripped down to nothing but his grey boxers. out of his waistband poked his leaking tip, oozing precum for you. "say what you want from us~"

"i-i need you too! i need both of you!" you squeaked out, though you were nervous for what the future might hold, you wanted to experience this, them, to the fullest.

"good answer," growled katsuki, slipping off his sweatpants. "now strip. you can't be the only one hiding yourself."

you did as you were told in an instant. you threw off your shirt, &, with the help of eijiro, you took off your pants. as you stripped, eijiro pulled katsuki in for a victory, sloppy kiss. their tongues fought for dominance. you couldn't help but get more aroused as you watched the two & their passion.

to return the favor, you start peppering kisses on eijiro's neck. his arm snaked around your waist, pulling you closer to his mass by grabbing the meat of your ass. you butterfly kisses turned into desperate bites to mark him. you sucked on his most sensitive spot; he moaned into katsuki's mouth, his eyes fluttering open just to roll in the back of his head. katsuki invaded his mouth with his tongue, making eijiro choke on their mixed spit & his thick muscle.

katsuki, though his eyes were shut, pulled his boxers down & stroked his length. every up-stroke caused more precum to bead out of his tip. it dripped down his shaft, being used as lube while he played with himself. katsuki was an impatient man, though. his own hand can't keep him satisfied for long. the hand that was tugging at his dick shot into your hair. he grasped a fist full of your locks, & he forced your face against his cock. all while he made eijiro's mind numb with nothing but his tongue.

you opened your mouth. one moment you took a deep breath, the next you were choking on katsuki's heavy dick. your eyes watered as he forced himself down your throat. you felt your throat bulge, you felt yourself gag, & there was nothing you could do but choke & cry.

the ashen blonde finally pulled away from eijiro, his other hand on the other side of your head while he thrusted in & out of your mouth. "kats, baby, don't be too rough with her~" eijiro told him, but he knew katsuki wouldn't listen. in fact, he knew he would do the opposite, & that's just what he wanted.

in retaliation, katsuki thrusted deeper down your throat. your hands pressed against his hips to try & stop & catch your breath. instead, he let go of your hair & grasped both your wrists & yanked them behind himself as they straightened. you were forced to take all 9 inches down your throat. drool dripped down your chin.

eijiro unclipped your bra from behind, & he sat you on his lap. his cock stood squished between your thighs. he bucked his hips forward, & your panties began to shape to your pussy lips. the cloth rubbed against your clit, a moan bubbled from your throat, but it was muffled thanks to katsuki's prick thrusting in & out of you mouth. "you said you can take us, prove it," hissed katsuki, glaring down at you while he fucked your pretty, little mouth.

eijiro slipped off you panties, strands of your wetness snapping away the further he pulled them down. katsuki finally shoved your face off his spit-coated dick. eijiro say you against the headboard so you were sitting. he was on his hands & knees in front of you.

katsuki was behind eijiro, a loud spank jolted the redhead forward. with your spit & katsuki's precum as lube, he thrusted into eijiro's asspussy. you watched as eijiro's eyes widened & his mouth hung open. "a-ah, fuck, kats," he moaned out as he abused his hole. eijiro locked gazes with you, then gave you that same, charming smile. through the slapping thrusts that filled the room, he asked, "does this get you excited, hm? you like watching us?"

you were speechless, so turned on beyond belief. all you could do was nod.

"you're so c-cute, y-y/n," he whimpered, his fingers finding your pussy. you spread your legs wider, & your juices gushed out. he inserted two fingers, it was already thicker than you've ever handled. he pressed his mouth to your tit, flicking your nipple with his tongue. you squealed as you stared into katsuki's eyes. his narrowed eyes stayed trained on you while his cock was buried in his boyfriend's ass.

you cheeks were still tear stained, your eyes red from pleasure. eijiro inserted a third finger. a hand, your hand, shot up to cover your screams of pleasure. katsuki pulled out of eijiro. he went to their shared bed stand & used a clean towel to wipe his dick.

eijiro, with no effort, carried you on to his lap as he fell to his hip so he was sitting down. he brought your knees to you ears. katsuki sat in front of you on a chair that was beside their full-length mirror. you could see everything; you could see eijiro's cocky expression, how wet your pussy was, how excited katsuki stroked his cock. "ready to prove you can handle me, sweetheart?"

"y-yes, eijiro!" you shouted, mind clouded with lust. "please fuck my pussy!"

following your command, he thrusted his entire girth into your weeping hole. you screamed in pain & pleasure, more juices leaking onto his lap. "y-you're so fuckin' big," you moaned out. he hasn't even thrusted yet, & you already saw stars. after a moment, he moved his hips. your tits bounced with ever thrust.

in the mirror, you saw how your stomach bulged when eijiro was balls deep inside you & how it would disappear when he pulled out, only to reappear when he slammed himself inside you. his thrusts were slow, but not gentle-- unlike katsuki's. "eijiro," katsuki said, getting bored of his hand. "my turn."

eijiro rolled his eyes, but he released your legs & lifted you off of him. "bend over, sweetheart. he loves your ass," eijiro told you, & you listened. katsuki stood up as you bent down in front of him, using your hands to spread your ass & pussy lips apart.

"god, you're too fuckin' short," katsuki growled. all of a sudden, your feet were off the ground as you were still bent over. eijiro grabbed onto your flailing hands. as a thank you, you shoved his slick-covered dick down your throat. katsuki wasted no time & fucked your pussy while you were airborne. his hands carried you by your hips. he used you like you were toy, pounding your cervix with his angry tip. eijiro didn't even have to move with how much katsuki manhandled you.

you were trying to scream as katsuki picked up the pace, but all that came out was spit & gags. "you're gonna break her," mused eijiro, feeling your arms go limp. you accepted that they were in complete control, & that there was nothing you could do about it.

katsuki didn't respond. instead, he groaned between thrusts, "take. this. slut. you're. such. a. fuckin'. tease." his deep, long strokes turned shallow & spastic. shots of hot, white cum coated every inch of your pussy. it swelled in your womb; you felt katsuki's cock twitch as your pussy milked every drip. you came with him, your juices squirting onto the ground, rolling down your leg.

with a few more thrusts, eijiro flooded your throat with his cum. his salty, bitter jets dribbled out of the corner of your mouth. katsuki set you down & pulled out, & eijiro followed. their cum leaked out of your holes onto the floor, & you collapsed on the floor. eijiro held you up by your arms.

"we're not done with you," he snickered as he carried you onto the bed. katsuki, who was already laying on the bed, had you lay on top of him. he held your legs open while his tip ghosted over your asshole. eijiro was in between your legs, straddling katsuki's. he readied himself at your entrance. he bent down to kiss katsuki, then you.

he & katsuki simultaneously shoved themselves into your throbbing holes. you let out a scream. you convulsed, legs shaking while you came all over them. through your release, they picked up the pace. when one was out of you, the other was buried inside you. because of your orgasm, you were more sensitive than usual. "i-it's too m-mu-much!" you cried while you came again.

"aw~ is my baby getting over stimulated?" eijiro cooed, yet his pace was still as harsh as ever. having both of them inside you made you feel so full. you could feel how much more length katsuki had, but eijiro had more girth.

"that's a shame," katsuki snickered. his hand found it's way in between your legs from behind. using his middle finger, he started rub your clit.

"s-stop! i-i'm go-go-"

"let it all out," was the last thing you heard before everything went white. all you felt was pleasure, they pumped in & out of you.

"m-more, more, more," you mindlessly moaned with every thrust. they gave you more, just to see your face every time you came. you don't know how many times they came inside you, it was all just a blur.

you loved how full they made you. your throat was scratchy because of their cocks, because of how much you screamed your name. you were covered in hand prints, hickeys, love bites, & their cum.

you don't know when you switched positions, but now the three of you were on your sides. katsuki was buried deep inside your pussy once again, releasing his seed deep inside of you. eijiro coated your ass in cum before inserting himself back inside your asshole.

they finally stopped moving. they were still buried in your tight, sore holes. you were sandwiched between them, connected to them. "go to sleep, good girl," katsuki praised, kissing your forehead. eijiro kissed your shoulder, then the two of them shared a kiss. your eyelids immediately shut. that's when you learned that you loved feeling full when you slept.

#anime and manga #kiribaku #bakugou katuski x reader #bnha eijiro kirishima #bnha katsuki bakugou #kirishima x reader #bakugou scenarios #bakugou x reader #bnha bakugo katsuki #bakugou drabble #bakugou headcanons #bakugou smut #bakugou x you #bnha bakugou #bnha x reader #kiribaku x reader #mha x reader #yandere bnha

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dirtyyoungthing · 23 days

Text

they say that older men do it better, and by god, they fucking do.

as some of you know, i’ve only ever been with one person. never really been one for hookups or anything like that, but i figure i’m young, in the prime of my life… why not fool around? i, after consulting my roommate, downloaded an app for hookups and set my age range up a bit. 30+.

this app allows you to list kinks and sexual preferences, but i really wanted to make sure i left the proper hints about myself around my profile. cute gifs. a question about preferred sexual positions, to which i replied, “mating press, or any position that makes me feel small and helpless.” i made sure to use my cutest photos, showing off my glossy lips and sweet doe eyes, my hair pulled into cute handles pigtails. before long i was scrolling and swiping through the app, lounging in bed as i daydreamed about getting my sweet little cunt pounded by an older man.

i didn’t have the app for more than an hour or two before i got the notification that i had gotten a match. i couldn’t help but kick my feet a bit when i checked to see who it was… he was older, handsome, tall, with really gorgeous long hair. his profile was one of the first ones i had seen; it was funny and made me laugh, and he couldn’t help but lightly boast about his big dick (energy). how could i not like him?

he sent me a message commenting on the position i had mentioned on my profile, saying that it seemed to fit well with breeding kinks. he also asked me if i was a squishmallow fan, and i couldn’t help but giggle.

[🫣 is it that obvious? i used to collect, but not so much anymore.]

[It is, but in a good way! You just had that cute plush kinda look!]

it was then i knew that this man would make me whine and whimper into his mattress. i couldn’t help but curl my toes a bit at the thought. we flirt a bit more, he shows me photos of some of the plushies he owns. i compliment them and say that, “everyone needs something soft and squeezable to get them through their days.”

[You look soft and squeezable js 🥴]

i need to fuck this man.

[i definitely definitely am 🤭 maybe you could find out just how soft and squeezable sometime?]

[I would LOVE that. I could totally also get you a plushie too.]

[oh gosh, i couldn’t accept anything from you 😭 you’re so so sweet though!!]

[Good girls deserve to be rewarded 😌]

….oh GOD!!!!!

he asks me if i’ve eaten, if i’m free tonight. we make plans for him to pick me up and take me to a restaurant right by his place. i give him my number and hop in the shower. if i wasn’t under such a time crunch i would have taken the time to touch my aching, excited little cunt as i cleaned my body, but i had to focus.

picking what to wear on a date is difficult. picking what to wear on a date when you know you’re going to get possibly the best dick you’ve gotten in your life is torture. does this look good? how does this make my chest look? ugh, i hate my arms in this top! my roommate, angel that she is, saved my night and my sanity by lending me the cutest outfit. a tight tile printed dress with spaghetti straps, which i wore a white t-shirt under. she also lent me a pair of platform mary janes for the evening. it had been a minute since i had worn anything so tall, and i couldn’t help but teeter a bit. it made me feel all the cuter though. a cute little bimbo like me, stumbling around in shoes i can hardly walk in so an older man can fuck my sweet little pussy… i shook the thought away as i did my makeup. focus!!!

i gave him my address, and he arrived on time in a really really nice car. he got out to greet me and gave me a sweet hug, and i couldn’t help but notice how he towered over me. my thighs clenched together as i felt myself get wet (or maybe wetter…). we got into the car and on the road. he’s so funny, and so so charming. he puts his hand on my thigh and i swear i nearly passed out. i pushed away thoughts of palming him through his jeans, of taking his cock out and sucking it right there in the car… focus up, girl!!

he was so wonderful. at one point, i’m talking about something that was probably unimportant (as most things i say tend to be), and he grabs my hand and starts pressing gentle, tender kisses to my fingers. i clenched my thighs a bit tighter as i lost my train of thought and trailed off.

we arrive at the restaurant, which is thankfully very close to his place. he parks and comes around to open my door, and we walk hand in hand into the restaurant. his hand is so much bigger than mine… we get seated and order a crème brûlée to share, as we had talked about it on the ride there (it was fantastic btw, incase you’re wondering. you probably aren’t, but it’s my blog damn u and i will talk about whatever i want!!). the place is a bit loud, so we had to lean forward in order to hear each other when we talk. i loved being closer to him like that, and couldn’t help but crave more of it.

we finish the dessert and head to his place. he introduced me to his cats before we settled onto his couch to talk a bit more. at one point he pulls me close and we finally start kissing. i was worried about my kissing skills, but it was so easy to follow his lead, to whimper into his mouth as he bit my lower lip. my hands moved to finally, finally rub him through his pants. oh. oh my god. denim, as you are probably aware, is a constricting material, but even as his cock strained against the fabric i could tell he was big.

we moved to his bedroom after a bit more kissing and rubbing. he moved around me, kissing on my neck, using his mouth’s hot air in ways i never realized were possible. i felt myself become cute little putty in his hands. i wanted to be the best little girl for this man i possibly could be. he did me the favor of removing his impossible belt, and i got onto my knees on the floor as i undid the button and zipper to his pants. i pulled his jeans down and rubbed the tent in his boxers for a moment before finally sliding them down. his cock sprang forth, and i swear i felt my jaw drop. oh dear sweet whatever you are in the sky, thank you. thank you so fucking much. he was huge. i had never seen anything that big in person before, and if i’m being honest, i was a little intimidated. i felt confident in my blowjob skills, but my last partner was considerably smaller. c’mon. be a big girl. you can do it.

i take his cock in my mouth, swirling my tongue around it as i do my best to take him deep down my throat. the noises he made, oh god… i swear i still hear them in my head randomly when i’m doing things around the house. i gagged a bit and pulled back, spitting out a bit of drool on his cock and using it as lube to jerk him off with while i caught my breath for a moment. “good girl,” he purred. i went right back to work, desperate and aching to hear more of his praise. i loved running my tongue over a certain spot on the underside of his cock; watching his eyes screw shut every time just got me wetter and wetter.

i could have sucked his cock for hours if he let me, but he pulled me off and held me in his arms so he could kiss me more as he helped me slide my clothes off. i’ll never forget his quiet, “oh, god,” as he finally saw my tits. he got my bra off and sucked on my sensitive nipples, flicking his tongue over the nub as i whined.

he had me lay on the bed and moved between my thighs. he pressed soft, tender kisses to my thighs that made my hips shift and buck in a desperate plea for him to please touch my pussy oh god please please please. finally, finally, he licks my cunt with a deft, practiced motion that could only come from experience an older man has. he fully devours me. the things this man could do with his mouth were downright sinful… i’ve never cum from oral before, but that night, after he slipped his fingers inside me, i couldn’t help but gush.

he moved to grab a condom, slipping it on before positioning himself on top of me. i felt my body tremble slightly at the prospect of taking something so large in my tight little cunt, but he was so sweet, so hot, that i knew i was wet enough. he ran the tip of his cock over my aching slit as i whimpered. slowly, ever so slowly, he slid into me. i find myself quivering just writing about it. i’m sure i was trembling under him, but after he bottomed out inside me my memory gets all fuzzy and it’s difficult to remember a whole lot.

i remember feeling so full, so fucking full as i moaned and cried out for him. i remember cumming over and over and over again on his huge cock. i remember sucking on his fingers as he pounded into me in an effort to keep me quiet (which like, half worked). i remember him caging his arms around me, growling in my ear as i begged him to cum, to breed me, to breed his little girl. we both came at the exact same time, moaning as our bodies melted together.

we catch our breath, clean up. he helps me find my discarded clothes in the pile that accumulated on his floor. i text my roommate and try to hide my smile.

[IM ALIVE]

[AND CAME]

[SO MUCH]

[SO MUCH TO TELL U]

[AHHHH YES BITCH]

he drives me home as we chat more, both still a bit breathless and awash with endorphins. once we arrive at my place, he opens my door once more and we kiss one final time before we say goodnight. i wish him a safe trip home as i limp to the door and let myself in. you know that thing that happens in movies, where the girl has a really good date, and she leans against the door after he leaves? i always thought that was silly, but… i just couldn’t help it.

the next day i’m out picking up dinner with a friend. we text a bit.

[Not at ALL complaining just still surprised at how dirty you are haha]

[you truly don’t know the half of it 🫣🤭💖]

[Tell me!]

[it might be better if i just, like, showed youuu?]

and then i sent him a link to this blog. and i felt like my heart was gonna sink into my stomach. i’m into some harder things, i didn’t wanna scare him off… my phone buzzed.

[I love this]

[thank GOD!! i was terrified you’d like, run for the hills or something 😭💕]

[I’m only disappointed about one thing…]

[hm?]

[You need to write about how good you got fucked last night]

when i tell you that my body essentially did a full factory reset…

[😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫]

[yes daddy]

[Good girl]

[Tell me when you post it]

he was hot. he was funny. he was dominant. he could make me cum so much my brain leaked out of my ears. and now he was giving me assignments. like a daddy should.

so now here i am, finishing up probably the longest piece of writing i’ve done in a long time. and there you are, reading it. hi. hope you had a good time.

i hope to see you again soon. 💖

#jess.txt #i’m so so sooo nervous abt posting this and sending it to him BUT here goes fuckin’ nothing!!!! wahoooooooo!!!!#cnc k!nk #cnc free use #fauxcest #fauxc3st #1cky daddy #1cky princess #1cky thoughts

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love-belle · 10 months

Text

us and our cats !!!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which he is streaming and being a simp simultaneously.

for when it's just you both and your cats. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

real life // lando norris x fem!reader

warnings - language.

author's note - this one made me want to be in a relationship SO bad :/// i really hope you like it, thank u so much for reading, i love you <3

≡;- ꒰ °real life ꒱

"hello everyone!" lando exclaimed as he started the stream, adjusting his equipment. "hello! hi!"

he watched as more and more people joined the stream, feeling excited because this would be his first stream in a few weeks and he clearly missed doing this.

"sorry, i'm just having a bit of a technical issue here," he apologized, leaning down and messing with the wires. "i think one of the cats messed with the wiring or something. they're always fucking up one thing or the other."

lando looked up at the screen, his eyes taking in all the comments, trying his hardest to read the most of them. "show cats? you want me to show you the cats?"

he looked back towards his room, eyes sweeping across as he tried to figure if at least one was in the room and when it became that he was alone, he huffed, shaking his head slightly. "i think they're with y/n, always favour her over me."

his tone turned slightly offended, as if the prospect of the cats, fish and casserole, loving his girlfriend more was simply out of this world. he paused for a second, before leaning forward to grab something off the desks and holding it up for the stream to see.

"that reminds me," he started, placing the headphones on top of his head carefully and smoothing out the crocheted piece in the middle of the band with a proud look, "look at what my girlfriend made me."

it was a simple thing, really. just two crocheted leaves tied in the middle of his headphones, green providing a stark contrast against the black and it almost looked like he was wearing a crown or something. all in all, it was just simply adorable.

now, it may have been simple but to lando, it was everything. he had almost burst out in tears when y/n first showed him her creation, a proud yet nervous look on her face that faded away as soon as he saw what she was showing him. he'd hugged her, kissed her, told her that he loved it more than anything else he owned and sent more than 50 selfies of him wearing those damn headphones to every single person he knew. simply because his girlfriend made that for him and he'd be damned if he didn't show it off.

"how fucking adorable is this, huh?" he chuckled, proudly looking in the camera as the two leaves sat upon his head. he'd been doing this as soon as he'd gotten them, always wearing them whenever there was an online meeting or when he was facetiming someone — he'd wear them any chance he could get. "god, i love her."

the comments were full of love, adoration and support for the couple, fans screaming about how much in love lando was and the said person couldn't help but agree.

yes, he was so in love.

"thank you, guys," lando blushed slightly, chuckling as he read through the comments. "you're all really sweet — no, i cannot fight. thank you for asking, though."

"who's trying to fight you?"

lando jumped slightly in his seat, turning back around to find y/n standing by the door, raising an eyebrow at him.

"just one of your fans," lando laughed, beckoning her towards him as he turned back around. "nope, not just one. plural, they're multiplying."

"well, can you?" y/n teased him, walking towards him as lando rolled his eyes, fond smile on his lips.

"for you, of course, i can," he turned to face her and shot her a wink, a cocky smirk on his face that had her shaking her head and laughing. "come on! don't laugh at me."

"sorry, baby," y/n leaned down and kissed his cheek, lingering for a few seconds before pulling back and straightening up. "i'll leave you to stream, now."

"what? no, stay," lando looked up at her, his eyes pleading for her to stay. "please, it'll be fun and the viewers love you."

"lando — "

"y/n, please?"

y/n sighed and lando couldn't help but grin, knowing that he had won her over. with a smooth move, he had grabbed her waist and was quick to pull her down to sit on his lap.

"woah, okay," y/n chuckled nervously, her hands holding onto lando's as he worked on whatever he had to. "this is nice."

"i know, right?" lando glanced at her before kissing her temple, his smile never leaving his face. "this is fun."

"i bet it is," y/n chuckled, squinting her eyes to read the comments flooding in. "'you're both my parents,' thank you angel. oh, another one that says 'y/n is so mother' that means so much to me, you're all too kind."

"i am so confused right now," lando mumbled, laughing slightly when more comments came in, mostly about y/n and their relationship.

"it's okay," y/n tilted her head to look at him, shifting slightly on his lap which made him tighten his hand around her waist. "i should start doing this with you more often."

"if you sit like this, you're more than welcome to join me everyday," lando whispered to her, a cheeky smirk on his face that melted into giggles when y/n hit his arm lightly, feeling flustered because hundreds of thousands of people could hear them at the moment and that thought was — well, it was scary. "sorry not sorry for speaking my mind."

"oh my god," y/n muttered to herself, grabbing onto the desk in front of her as lando leaned forward all of a sudden, his hands adjusting the computer screen before he settled back, a soft 'sorry' leaving him as he made sure she was comfortable. "i should get my own chair. it's hard."

"it sure is," lando retorted almost immediately, snickering as the innuendo registered in his girlfriend's brain, her mouth agape as she stared at him. "what? c'mon! the opportunity was right there. this one's kinda on you."

"i swear, it's like i'm back in high school," y/n mumbled, standing up and leaving to get another chair, her voice echoing in the hallway as she called for their babies — their cats.

"love you, darling!" lando called out, the grin never leaving his face. once again, the chat went wild with the interaction between the couple, red hearts flooding in and uppercase letters making lando blush slightly. "sorry guys, she distracted me. back on the stream — 'do you have any plans for tonight?' yes, we do! we're going to this art gallery that y/n had wanted to check out for a while and after that we'll be having dinner, so, there's that. i'm excited, it's always fun to visit galleries with y/n because she knows stuff, like the real stuff about art, paintings and sculptures and all and it's so cool because it's like having your own little personal guide — except this one calls you a dumbfuck way too often."

lando had a lovesick smile on his face as he spoke, laughing in between sentences. it was always like this, someone — anyone would ask a question and he'd somehow manage to link it to y/n and then there was no hope for any further continuation of that conversation because if there was one thing lando could talk about endlessly, it was y/n.

sometimes it would be about what she had baked for him, what she painted in her free time, or this video of casserole slapping fish she had sent him and other times, it would be about y/n being upset about something and him asking for advice or when she had crocheted him those two leaves and it was all he could talk about for weeks.

"'how long have you been together?' we celebrated our two year anniversary a few weeks ago!" lando answered happily, smile never flattering at the thought of their celebration. "we started dating in october, though she wasn't my girlfriend until late december, so yeah.

"'how many cats do you have?' we have two cats, fish and casserole," lando replied, rolling his eyes fondly at the thought of their little demons. "they're little pieces of shit, i swear. they're always out to get me like — i always knew they liked y/n more than me but you should see them when i'm around like — it's like they're calling me 'bitch' over and over in their kitty language and it's so — "

a soft meow interrupted him, a confused on his face as he looked behind him to see where it came from. a few seconds passed before he heard it again, this time it was clear that it came from under the desk. with a hesitant push against the desk, he pushed his chair back and leaned down to see under it and saw two eyes blinking back at him, almost twinkling in the dark.

"fuck."

with a careful grip, he carefully pulled casserole from under the desk, holding her against his chest and he turned towards the stream, a nervous look on his face.

"y/n's gonna kill me for calling her precious baby a little piece of shit with her present in the room."

"you called my baby a what?!"

#f1 x female reader #f1 x reader #f1 imagines #lando norris imagines #lando norris imagine #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x you #lando norris x reader #lando norris fluff #lando norris f1 #lando norris fanfic #lando norris blurb #lando norris drabble

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studioghibelli · 4 months

Text

bewitched, bothered, bewildered.

a joel miller x reader

summary: after your parents leave on a cruise for winter break, your best friend sarah invites you over to her house for the holidays. she failed to mention her father is the hottest man in the world.

warnings: best friends dad!joel, slight canon divergence as in Sarah is college aged come 2023, a big phat girthed up age gap, alcohol consumption, reader has just gotten out of a relationship, various media references, smut (fingering, female masturbation, f receiving oral, dirty talk, pet names, tiniest sir kink.) mdni!

note: this could be a series. i’m not too sure right now. let me know if you’d be interested in this as multiple parts!

You had never been to Texas before.

Tales of obnoxiously large barbecues, ten gallon hats, and vast, desert plains where rattlesnakes roamed freely filled your mind. Sticky sweet iced tea, kind old women who called everyone “honey”, and dry, arid heat were also things you associated with Texas.

And, sure, Texas was hot and humid as hell.

But it was beautiful.

While the plane made its final descent down to the Austin airport, your eyes took in the most beautiful sunset you had ever gazed upon, never before seeing oranges and reds quite as beautiful. By the time you deplaned, the deep navy of the night sky showcased millions of glimmering stars. You couldn’t remember the last time you saw so many stars. It must have been ages, but nonetheless they had ignited you with a sense of wonder.

“It’s about an hour, to my place.” Sarah warned, standing by your side as you both waited to catch sight of your luggage.

You nodded a bit, patiently looking to see your dark teal suitcase pass through the conveyor belt.

“Hey,” she nudged you in the side, causing you to glance her way. “Are you still thinking about your ex? Not good for you, so you better stop.”

“What if we were soulmates?” You grumbled, knowing how stupid you sounded. Your shoulders slumped forward. You didn’t actually think that idiot was the person you would spend the rest of your life with, but it was nice to have someone. To have… your person.

“If you two were soulmates, you wouldn’t have been broken up with. Now would you?” Sarah smiled sadly, gently patting your head. “Winter break is a month long. Who knows? Someone here might catch your eye!”

You rolled said eyes at her wiggling brows, grumbling beneath your breath. “Yeah, yeah. Maybe.”

“My dad has loads of hot guys working for him. They stop by the house sometimes, maybe you could…. I don’t know- waltz downstairs wearing a tight shirt and stick your ass out.” She wiggled her butt against you with a faux-seductive dance move.

“Sarah!” You laughed, gently pushing her shoulder.

“Dad says he should be here in about 5 minutes. Oh! There’s our bags.”

You grabbed your luggage in unison, lugging them off the machine before rolling through the crowds of people, no doubt travelling to and fro for the holidays.

“Look for a black Chevy!” She warned as you walked outside.

“I don’t know what that looks like!” You shouted earnestly, over the hustle and bustle of the pick up area.

Sarah looked at you, before rolling her eyes with a laugh. “There he is!” She waved both her hands towards a truck in the distance. You watched as it pulled to the curb, windows tinted black. When the driver door opened you heard Hank Williams crooning from the stereo, still unable to see the figure that was Sarah’s dad.

The shadow on the sidewalk was broad as it made its way towards the two of you, and when you finally dragged your eyes up, you saw Joel Miller in all his glory.

Tall, rugged, a little rough around the edges- but undeniably handsome. He wore a regular tan crew neck underneath a brown flannel, jeans spread out tight against his thick thighs, with the pointed toes of two leather boots sticking out. His dark hair, littered with strands of drool worthy gray, was slicked back from a fresh shower, one stray curl managing to sneak its way out.

And when he stepped closer, you smelled him. God, you smelled him. He wore just the right amount of cologne, and it made your knees weak. Joel smelled like woody vanilla, swirling with cracks of cardamom and whiffs of lavender tinted flowers of iris. You almost moaned. He smelled delicious.

Joel greeted Sarah, but quite honestly you were too overwhelmed to hear anything they were saying. And then he turned to you.

You.

“Hello.” He smiled a bit, eyes glimmering with something you couldn’t quite pin point. “I’m Joel. It’s real nice to have you stayin’ with us.”

You smiled. A real smile. He was kind, too? What a fucking dream. “Thank you.” After telling him your name you went to pick up your luggage, before a hand grabbed your arm gently.

His hand. Well worked, rough, calloused- an honest pair of hands that were scarred by a lifetime of hard work. Honorable hands. Sexy hands.

“There ain’t no way I’m lettin’ a pretty thing like you lift that suitcase all by herself. You’re in Texas now, honey. Don’t you know we practically invented gentlemen down here?” He joked, grabbing your bag and tenderly sitting it down in the bed of his Chevy.

You laughed, shaking your head. “I guess I’ll just let you do everything for me, since you’re a gentleman and such.” You teased. You watched the hint of a smile ghost across his lips.

“Well, you might just have to, darlin’.” With a wink that made your belly tighten, he opened the door for you, and you joined Sarah in the backseat.

“Dad, what the hell are you listening to?”

“Hank Williams.” You both said in unison. He put his eyes on you from the mirror, winking at you.

“Bring this one around more, Sarah. I like her.”

Sarah smiled, looking at you with love sparkling in her eyes. The kind of love that only existed between two bonded women, the kind of love that only two girls in a deep, genuine friendship could share. You smiled, giving her hand a squeeze.

“Dad, you know she just got dumped.”

“Sarah!” You guffawed. And that special moment was over. Tenderness now replaced with annoyance.

“Who got broken up with?”

Sarah nudged her head towards you.

“Her?!” He spoke incredulously. As if Joel could not wrap his head around the idea of someone ever leaving you.

You buried your hot face in your hands, mumbling a bit. “Was a fucking jerk.” You grumbled after a long moment of silence, pulling away from your palms to look out the window, watching the city pass by.

“Must have been, breakin’ your heart.”

“Dad, you have no clue. So it all started-” As Sarah started explaining your past relationship and breakup, you watched the backdrop of Austin rush past your window.

Beautiful buildings shimmering in the night, the distant noise of the city clamoring, vibrant grass and trees scattered about. It was stunning, alive, noisy. It was nothing like what people had described Texas as. And the only person who had called you ‘honey’ so far, was your best friend’s hot dad.

You pulled away from where you looked, coming back in to reality. Sarah was still going on and on with her drama spilling. Joel was still listening, or at least looked like he was listening. His plush lips were cemented into a tight line, eyes dark and focused on the highway ahead. He met your gaze in his rearview mirror once again, and the tightness of his furrowed brow softened momentarily. You offered him a hint of a smile, and he gladly took it.

“So, what’re you majoring in?” He asks you. You didn’t quite catch his question. You were examining how his hands looked around the steering wheel as he turned it, the way the pad of his thumb caressed the leather, the way his thighs looked spread out against the brown of the sleek seat. God. Was it normal to wish you were a fucking steering wheel?

You clenched your thighs together. You wondered if he noticed. He seemed rather perceptive.

“I’m sorry sir, what did you ask, Mr. Miller?”

Joel swallowed thickly, sucking in a sharp breath. “Joel, please. Call me Joel. I asked what you’re studyin’, back at school.”

Sarah laughed a bit, not looking up from her phone. “What isn’t she studying?”

You grinned a toothy grin at the comment. “It’s true. I’ve changed my major loads of times. I started with French, then anthropology. Now I’m stuck between film and history. There are a lot of things I love learning about. I just…. want to see the world, experience it all.” You explained softly, looking out the window as you thought. “It’s kind of hard to focus on one thing when your heart is all over the place. Y’know?”

Joel nodded a bit, clearing his throat. “You sound way smarter than me. Been contractin’ my whole life. Nothin’ special like French or history.” You giggled to yourself at the way he pronounced ‘French’, his Texan accent thick on the syllables.

“Contracting is honest work. Takes a big, strong man, you know? It can’t be easy. I admire that.” You hummed. Your eyes met once again. Joel’s tongue flicked across his lower lip, nostrils slightly flared.

Sarah was none the wiser, scrolling through her phone. You hummed a bit, settling in to your seat. By the time you looked at Sarah, she was passed out, fast asleep.

“So,” Joel began, turning on to a dirt road. You saw a few cows in the pasture fast asleep, the moon hanging above them. It looked like something from a storybook. “You heartbroken’ over this break up?”

You thought for a moment. “I don’t…. really know. It’s just weird…. it’s- it’s like I don’t know what to do with myself anymore. Like, yeah, I was cheated on, then dumped. But we did everything together. Went out, grabbed dinner, saw movies. I just don’t know what to fill that up with. I do all those things with Sarah, obviously, but it’ll still be weird. I don’t know. I’m rambling.” You huffed out a breath of air you had been holding, shrugging a bit. “Probably sounds stupid.”

“It ain’t stupid.” Joel reassured softly, his deep voice rumbled like a song through your ears, filling your mind with symphonies and day dreams. Day dreams of feeling his mouth on your own, hearing that voice from behind your back while he took you- wait, what? No! He was Sarah’s dad! You shook the thoughts away. “Don’t uh….” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Don’t feel bad for feelin’ any sort of way. Alright?”

As he pulled into the driveway of his home, you nodded slowly. “I’ll try not to.”

“Do or do not, there is no try.”

You laughed. “Star Wars! I love Star Wars.” You cooed, rubbing a hand down your cheek in an attempt to stifle your giggles.

“Sarah would never watch it with me. Been beggin’ her for years.” Joel admitted through a cracked grin.

“Well, I’ll watch it with you.”

Joel shot you that glance once more. “I’d like that.”

Was it a date? No. Surely not? Stop getting ahead of yourself! You took in a deep, shaky breath, gulping down a thick lump that had been forming. No. Calm down. There was no way.

Sarah woke up with a yawn, smiling when she realized the truck had finally pulled in to the driveway.

Joel helped you all unload your things, showing you to the guest room. “Feel free to help yourself to anything. Fridge, drinks. In the garage we got beers and some of them fruity mixers that Sarah likes. Our home is your home.” He explained, extending that Southern hospitality that you had heard so much about.

You felt your body warming up. “Thank you.”

“And, uh….” He rubbed the back of his neck, almost nervously. “I’ll be downstairs in the livin’ room watchin’ some movies, if you want to join me.”

WHAT?!

“Okay. Sure. I’d like that.” You said calmly, stiffly, and definitely not using a oh-my-god-did-he-really-say-that tone of voice. Nope. Not you. Not at all.

“Don’t feel pressured or nothin’. Just a thought.”

Before you could respond, Joel had walked through the hall and down the stairs. You threw on your pajamas, a simple pair of fleece bottoms and a tank top, rolling the thought over in your head. It would be nice, to sit next to him, hear his laugh, cast glances at his side profile. But you weren’t too sure if you could be trusted. Just out of a relationship, full of emotion, irrevocably attracted to this man….. No. No. It wasn’t a good idea. What if you did something you regretted?

So you climbed in to bed, shutting your eyes tight.

And then thirty minutes passed, and your eyes were wide open.

And then an hour passed, and your eyes were still wide opened.

What-fucking-ever.

You threw the covers off with a huff and walked out of your room, quiet as not to wake Sarah. She had had a rough finals week, and you knew she needed a good night’s rest. You on the other hand? Your body was aflame, every nerve lit up like a Christmas tree by Joel’s charming laugh, perfect hands, stern face. God. Why was he so attractive? So alluring? You buried your face in your hands as you shuffled down the hallway.

You were really doing this.

You reached the couch, and saw Joel watching the television, strong arm thrown across the back of it.

“Uhm, Mr- Uh, Joel?”

He turned to look at you, and you noticed a smirk tease the corner of his lips. “Well, hello darlin’. Started to think you weren’t goin’ to take me up on my offer.” Joel patted the empty space beside him. The couch was small, meant for two people.

You weren’t complaining.

“Yeah, well.” You let out a nervous giggle, sitting down beside him. “Couldn’t sleep, so.”

“Oh. So you’re tellin’ me I’m your rebound?” He joked.

“Yeah. Sorry… I’m real desperate these days.” You teased back, holding an embroidered pillow to your chest.

Joel chuckled a deep, beautiful, throaty chuckle, his arm not moving from the back of the couch, brushing every so often against your shoulder blades. “Do you want a drink?” He asked, turning to look at you.

“Sure.” You smiled softly at him, eyes lingering for a few beats to long. He shook his head a bit, as though he were thinking something he really shouldn’t be thinking, before looking away. A moment of awkward silence fell between you two.

Without missing a beat, he slapped his hands on his knees through a deep sigh, getting up and walking to the garage. When he came back, he had a six pack of beer in one hand, and a box of pre-mixed Strawberry Daiquiris in the other.

“Didn’t know which one to grab for you. A bit of everythin’, I suppose.” He sat the cartons in front of you, and you opted for the Daiquiri.

“Thank you.”

“Of course.” He grabbed the remote, flipping through the channels. “Anythin’ sound good?”

You hummed out in thought, eyeing all the movies. “Oh! Stepbrothers! That’s a good one.”

He looked at you. “Really?” He teased dryly.

“Sarah and I quote it all the time.”

Joel nodded for a moment, before turning to you, a serious look on his face. “Did you… touch my drum set?”

A long bout of silence passed, before you took in a deep breath and looked up at him. “No.”

He furrowed his eyebrows together, clicking his tongue. “It’s just weird, cause it seems like someone definitely touched my drum set.”

“Yeah, that is weird, cause I didn’t touch them.”

You stared at each other intensely, both feigning fake anger, before you broke out into giggles. He shook his head with a chuckle.

“So, Stepbrothers then-”

“Oh!” You cut him off excitedly. “Look! The Empire Strikes Back!”

He hummed in agreement, clicking it on. You both got settled in, your shoulder touching his side, his arm thrown behind your back again. Comfortable silence blanketed the room, and you took in the scene around you.

A small living room, a flat screen propped on a wooden console that looked handmade, a nice rug spread out over the hardwood floors. There were some car magazines on the table, a pair of work boots sitting in the corner. It smelled like him, and his electrifying cologne. It felt like him, too. Masculine, woody, comfortable. It was incredible.

You had finished the box of drinks before the end of the movie, and by the time Han Solo was frozen solid in his fancy little fridge, you were crying your eyes out.

Not because of the movie.

“Hey, hey, hey.” Joel’s eyes slightly widened as he turned to you. “Hey, honey, what’s the matter?”

You sniffled, face planting in to his chest. You were tipsy, the newest recipient of a so called broken heart, and he was warm. So, so warm. Without missing a beat, Joel’s arms wrapped around you, his grip tight and secure. You had never felt more protected, more wanted, more cared for.

“Shh, it’s okay.” His long fingers ran through your hair, gentle and soothing. “Wanna talk about it?”

“I’m such an idiot.” You grumbled into his husky chest, no doubt leaving a stain of tears. “I should have seen it coming. Everyone warned me about… about… even Sarah knew. But I didn’t listen. And now I’m here, crying to my best friend’s dad who is way too hot for his own good, full of all these feelings, and-and-….. oh, fuck.” You realized what had spilled from your mouth, pulling away sheepishly and stuffing the pillow in your face.

Joel sat for a moment, wordlessly, slowly looking at you. He gently pushed the pillow away before his index and thumb grabbed your chin, demanding and gentle, tilting your gaze to meet his own. “Too hot for my own good, huh?”

Your face heated up with embarrassment. You wanted to recoil away, maybe throw up a little. You wanted to climb beneath the couch and die there. Anything but own up to your words.

“It’s okay. Think you’re the first of Sarah’s friends to get a little crush on me?” He joked softly, gently rubbing his thumb across your cheek.

A pinch of jealousy surged through you. It wasn’t making you feel any better. You sniffled loudly, your eyelashes fluttering.

“I will say, you are the first of Sarah’s friends I’ve…. well, you’re beautiful. And smart. And, you know.” Joel paused, clearing his mind. He was usually much better with his words. “Look, darlin’. I like you, a lot. And I don’t want you to think I’m taking advantage of you or anythin’, but I can help with that broken heart of yours.”

A gulp of air caught in your chest. With shaking hands, you gently grabbed his own, pulling him closer to you. A deep breath, and then: “Please. Help me forget.”

Joel chuckled, his palm dragging down the side of your body. “I can do that.”

His lips met yours. Hungry, passionate, deep. Joel kissed you like he’d never kiss again, and you happily let him, lips parting, heart mending. He pushed you down onto the soft couch with his weight hovering above your own, fingers tangling into your hair. He wanted you. All of you.

“Can I touch you?” He asked softly, hand moving down to your pajama pants.

“Please.” It came out choked, a plea, a prayer.

He pushed your pants down, allowing you to kick them off, before his palm found your core. Hot, soaked, weeping for him. He groaned, gently rubbing your swollen clit from behind the material of your underwear.

“God damn, girl.” He smirked, eyes darkening. “This all for me?”

You nodded meekly, the inside of your cheek caught between your molars. “Touch me.” You begged.

“Here?” He whispered, his thumb dragging across your soaked slit, over the cotton material.

“Anywhere. Just, please- make me cum.”

“Oh, I’ll make you cum alright, girl. But you’re going to have to stay quiet for me, okay?”

“Okay.”

He pushed your legs back, slipping between them as he lowered himself, now face to face with your pussy. Joel slipped your underwear to the side, his tongue sweeping across his lower lip, before leaning forward and taking your clit in his mouth. You shuddered at the contact, groaning softly.

“I think,” he whispered quietly, your ears straining to hear him, “I want you to rub this pretty clit while I finger fuck your pussy.”

You groaned softly, eyes blown wide and dark, as you slowly sat yourself up on your elbows. “Ye-yes sir.” It just slipped out. You were too horny to care.

A guttural hiss seeped through his teeth. “I like that.” He warned deeply. “Go on, rub it for me.”

You lowered your shaking hand, the tip of your index slowly tracing up the length of your clit. It was screaming, begging, throbbing for any semblance of pleasure.

Joel’s eyes were on you.

He was inspecting your every movement like a panther stalking its prey, eyes full of lust, tongue dripping with desire.

You took in a sharp breath before rubbing your bud between your index and middle finger, a soft breath leaving you.

“Good girl. Good girl.” He praised, middle finger sinking in to your tight cunt. Joel sighed out a string of curses. “You’re fuckin’ tight, baby. That little pussy is drippin’ for me.”

“For you.” You whispered.

He looked up at you as he kissed your thigh, biting down on the soft, supple flesh. “You’re fuckin’ delicious.”

You threw your head back at his words, hips bucking. You felt your orgasm growing nearer, stomach tensing. Joel pushed your hand away, and you jerked your head to look at him, so quick it almost gave you whiplash.

“Sorry, I just can’t help myself.” He leaned forward, sucking at your clit again, his tongue swirling and flattening against it. Joel knew what he was doing.

As his finger still hit inside of you, you brought your hands down to his hair, tugging at his curls, the once slicked style now rampant and messy. You tried to stop yourself from moaning too loud, fearful of waking Sarah, but how could you not?

Joel fucking Miller, the most attractive man you had ever laid eyes on, was worshipping your pussy. You shivered, thighs clenching.

He was worshipping your pussy.

His hot tongue felt like Heaven against you, and Joel was eating you like a starved man, like your cunt was the nectar of the gods. He did what your ex had never done before- he made you feel wanted, made you feel desired.

Joel moaned into your pink flesh, sucking and licking, nibbling and swirling, until your stomach grew tight with a looming climax.

God, he was good at this.

“Gonna cum. G-gonna cum, Jo- oh, oh. Oh.” You hummed out in relief as your orgasm washed over you, eyes widening as he continued licking, sucking, finger fucking- he didn’t care that you were getting sensitive. All he cared about was you. Your sweet pussy, delicious cum, soft folds- he wanted all of it.

“Fuck, you taste good.” He whispered, bringing himself away from your core. “Sweet little thing, ain’t ya?”

Your cheeks heated, and you slowly sat up, legs still shaking. “Jesus Christ.”

Joel chuckled, reaching towards you as he fixed a few strands of messy hair. “Yeah, Jesus Christ.”

You stared at one another for a moment before he tackled you with a deep kiss, hungry and crazed. You wasted no time kissing back, feeling the outline of his cock on your bare thigh. You gasped for air at the touch, already knowing he was big, thick, perfect.

Your hand was moving towards his shirt before the hallway light switched on.

“Fuck. Here.” He tossed you your pants and you quickly slipped them on, resuming your positions on the couch as normally as possible.

As Sarah walked down the stairs, your chest tightened with a sudden realization.

This was going to be a great winter break… if you made it out in one piece, that is.

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