#and then by the time I DO want to do those things the time has run out again and it has to be put off

[madamechrissy]

I'll look After You

Pairings: Satoru Gojo x fem reader (reader is a mom)

Summary: You longed to hear from Satoru, After an epic night hooking up in a club bathroom, sure you'd been strangers, but he has your number, he made you feel so special... but... he never contacts you again. Ten months later, you have a beautiful baby named Reign, with those exact blue eyes. You never saw him again, couldn't even find him, so now, you are living your life as a single mom. Messy bun, dark circles, exhausted, you run into Satoru one day, and he sees her, his baby girl, and sees you struggling, he knows then, you're what's been missing in his life.

CW: MDNI- Sweet and emotional story, SO MUCH fluff here, Satoru is a freaking doll, misunderstanding led to him not knowing (nothing is kept from anyone on purpose) Fluffy long oneshot, watch Satoru fall in love with reader and his lil girl. Gojo being a dad and being cute! Explicit smut at the end- warnings- breed kink (it's me???) oral (f receiving) dirty talk, possessive Satoru (When isn't he?) Also some flashbacks to the original bathroom hookup (fingering, dirty talk etc) Sexual tension, 10.6k WC <3

Here is the full oneshot! Comments and reblogs SO appreciated if you enjoy <3

You often wondered about him, Satoru was his name.

As you look down at your baby girl, with her brilliant blue eyes while she’s cooing happily, giving you a gummy little grin, you wonder what he’d think if he knew about her. The random guy at the bar you gave your number to after hooking up in a bathroom, the guy who never called, the guy with no social media of which to speak. The guy you never, ever saw again.

Your baby’s father, the best thing that ever happened to you, surely, but also it was very difficult, being a single mom, you’d have to go back to work soon which you were dreading, spending sleepless nights up feeding, changing her. It had been a rough pregnancy, and a shocking one at that, people had questioned you over and over, some mentioned not having her.

But something in you knew you could do this, you could have this baby, you’re broke as fuck but she has all she needs, and she makes you so happy, but those eyes are unmistakable. No one has eyes like that, except her and her… well was he her dad? You wonder if he’d run ten million miles from you if he knew, or would he have been okay with it?

It’s odd that just a night of fun, alcohol and being on antibiotics created this amazing little girl, but you can’t be upset, not when she brightens your world. But you still ache at times, for her to have a dad, you hope you’re enough. You wonder about him though, the bright energetic man, the one that had made you feel more in one evening than anyone ever.

The last man you’d been with.

Yes, it’s been that long, Reign was two months old, so you’re damn near a year, you say it’s because you’re so busy, but something deep in you knows that you felt something for him, deeper than the obvious physical. Something about how he looked at you, at how he laughed, at how he made you feel so special.

You assume it must have been some act, clearly, here you are, alone after all. You both only knew each other’s first names, it’s true, but he had that number. Maybe it wasn’t all you thought it was? Maybe he just was that sort of guy, the one that made women think they’re his everything with one of his kisses, maybe you were just too drunk, and he was too pretty.

You blink a bit, shaking the haze thoughts of him as you yawn a bit, exhausted from Reign keeping you up all night, her tummy had been hurting. You’re sleepily putting things in the cart, baby items, groceries, the essentials, you catch sight of yourself in the mirror above the produce, wincing then. You have a messy bun and are in pajamas, god help you if you ever wanted to meet a guy.

‘Oh hi, I have a baby with a random blue eyed dude from a bar, I’m broke as fuck, and I wear pajamas to the store. Wanna date?’

Yeah. That would go over well.

“It’s… it’s… you!?” You sleepily look up then, so exhausted you barely register the six foot three man for a moment, then suddenly it all hits.

He stares at you, those blue eyes, the eyes your baby has, wide now, his pouty pink lips dropped open. He’s just as gorgeous as you remember him, like it’s some dream, you feel weak then, chest rising and falling as your breaths come too quickly. He steps closer to you then, he hasn’t seen her yet, nestled in her little car seat on the cart, you’re panicking.

“Do you even remember me? Oh my god, that night my phone broke, and I had just got it, they couldn’t transfer the numbers! And I tried to look you up? But I couldn’t find you… and I never saw you… and then- fuck I’m rambling.” He laughs nervously, swiping his hand through his snowy locks. “Forgive me, please… what I mean to say is… Hi?”

“Hi…” Your baby whines then, and Satoru pauses, blinking and you move to the side then, he steps closer when Reign opens her eyes, grinning at him.

Satoru’s heart pounds in his chest, his entire world tilts on its axis, he was already so thrown off by seeing you again, the girl he hasn’t been able to stop thinking of, but now… he looks at you in shock, you look exhausted, but so beautiful, your eyes tear up then, he watches your shoulders slump, then he looks back at the baby, realization sinking in.

“She’s… is she… there’s no way…”

“She’s yours, I only hooked up with you for the past… year.” You manage to say softly, right in the middle of the fruit aisle, Satoru was finding out you have his baby.

“You did this alone?” He says then, blinking back emotions for a girl he barely knew, but who now has a part of him, a part he wants to know so badly suddenly, shocking him.

“I had no clue who you were, how to tell you, even if so, it’s not your responsibility okay? I take care of her just fine, I make it work.” Satoru’s heart breaks then, seeing how tired you are, seeing the endless baby items and cheap toilet paper, a cheap bottle of wine, is that all you get yourself?

You did this alone, you have his baby alone, altering your life while he’s living his just the same, partying with his best friends, working and living a luxurious life. Satoru was rich, and it’s clear his baby and his baby’s mother are struggling, and he’s here doing what? Could he have tried harder to find you!? Could he…

“We’re okay, you don’t have to worry. I’d never come for you for anything, I am happy being her mommy.” You say with a tired smile, reaching to touch her little chubby cheek, and Satoru has never seen anything so beautiful, the two of you.

He’s felt so empty for this year, is this what he was missing?

“Can I… please… Can I know her?” He asks, gulping now, and you blink in shock, nodding quickly.

“I would love that.” You can’t stop your tears then, sniffling and shaking your head. “Please, let’s talk out of a produce aisle?” You whisper, he nods quickly, unable to take his eyes off you, off his baby.

After paying for your groceries, which you protest to, he’s out by your car now, a little minivan that makes him smile, picturing you as some pretty soccer mom already. You take her out of the car seat then, holding her carefully, smiling up nervously at Satoru. His chest swells at seeing you hold her, some instinct takes over, he instantly knows then.

He needs to take care of you both.

“I thought you’d freak out if you knew, be upset or want nothing to do with…”

“God no, no. I mean I don’t know what to think, but… she’s beautiful. Like her mom.” His words make you flush.

“I’m a wreck, Satoru, look at me.”

“You just need some help, doing it all alone?”

“You don’t have to, okay? I can do it.”

He brushes a tendril back off your temple, sighing as he looks at you, at those dark circles that just make you more beautiful, but show the fragility you’re keeping under wraps as best as you can. “I want to help, this is on me too.”

“It’s not, I was on the pill but… antibiotics.” You grumble, holding the baby to your chest now, she is sucking on her little binkie, bright pink. “It’s all on me, I’d love you to be in her life, but don’t feel obligated to pay for anything.”

“You’re stubborn, will she be too?” He narrows his eyes, and you giggle then, the first time in a long time you’ve heard that sound.

“She’s already stubborn, she gave me a hard time, wouldn’t come out.” She wriggles then, and you step a little closer to Satoru. “Wanna hold her?”

“Can you… tell me how to?” He asks, and you smile at him, for a tall, buff man he’s so sweet and precious, nervous even.

“Yes, hold your arms like this.” He does as you ask, holding his arms out, as you gently place Reign in his arms. “Hold her head just so. There you go, hey Reign, this is your dad.”

“Reign?” He asks, in shock as he looks into her eyes, his eyes, but she has your nose, your hair. His lips. She’s… “Perfect.”

“Isn’t she? Is it okay if I call you her dad?”

“It’s… perfect.” He says again, smiling at you, tears making his snowy lashes spike just so, you feel so complete then somehow. You can’t explain it, seeing this melts you, and Reign is so happy she's cooing, sucking on her binky and staring at him, you watch him melt right with you. “HI there, dumpling.”

“Dumpling? She's got a nickname huh.” He grins so big, nodding.

“I moved out of the city for the past year but I just came back to town. How far are you?”

“Oh like ten minutes. Would you… like to come over tomorrow? I'd say today but my place is a wreck.”

“I'd love to. Can I get her something please?”

“You don't have to… but she can always use binkies she throws these things. Ugh, see?” Reign spits out her binky and Satoru snorts as you catch it. She then touches his cheek, and he chokes up.

“I… oh my god. I love her?” He whispers in wonder, and you exhale, blinking tears that refuse to stop falling. “Is that crazy?”

“No. I loved her when I first saw her too. Fuck I'm a wreck “

“Hey…” He steps closer, handing you her carefully and then placing his big hands on your shoulders. “I am here now for both of you, however you'll let me be. Shh.” He brushes your back, resting his head on yours as you hold her close.

“I never thought I'd see you, tell you. I'm overwhelmed. I'm sorry.”

“Yeah me too.”

Of course he is, fuck. He just found out he's a dad, and he's honestly taking it better than anyone could. He brushes your tears away, and your pulse quickens, you clear your throat then. “We don't even know each other, it's insane huh?”

“Absolutely insane. But… I can't wait to spend time with her.” He says softly, you smile up at him, trying not to read so much into it, so happy he wants to be in her life but you have to remember that doesn't mean with you.

“Come over tomorrow I'll cook you lunch? Please don't break your phone again.” He laughs then, nodding as you two exchange numbers.

“Last name is Gojo. I hope one day hers can be?” And yours, he thinks, but he knows it's crazy to say, as he watches you smile so pretty through your tears.

“Maybe we can do that someday. Well, Reign, say bye to dad.” Satoru kisses her little forehead, leaning up then, thinking of kissing you. You both stand there a moment before he opens your door, and you set Reign back in her little pink car seat. You smile up at him again. “I am sorry I'm in pajamas by the way, ugh.”

“They're cute, little snowmen.” You snort, rolling your eyes as you slide in your car, hoping you will see him tomorrow with everything. “See you both soon.”

You drive away, and Satoru calls his driver and assistant then. “Can you order me everything a baby girl needs? And I need it by tomorrow.”

******

There’s a knock on your door, you peek in the mirror one more time, you took a bath last night, your hair is shimmering and clean for once, you have just a little concealer on for those dark circles, a little lip gloss. You’re wearing clothes and not sweats or pajamas, a little top with a cardigan and jeans, nothing fancy but you look human again.

You can’t believe that Satoru will come, until you open that door and see him, standing next to a tired looking dark haired man holding an insane amount of glittery pink bags. Satoru’s grinning at you, wearing Gucci shades and a dress shirt probably worth more than your rent, only one little bag in his hand swinging side to side as he greets you.

“Satoru, you… what is all this?” You ask curiously, and he shrugs a broad shoulder, handing you the little bag.

“All that is for Regin, this is for you though.”

“What!? It’s too many things!”

“Miss, may I?”

You realize he’s just standing there struggling, and come to then. “Oh, yes I’m so sorry! Put them on the table?”

Satoru and Kiyotaka walk in then, you have a little place, it’s about the size of Satoru’s living room altogether, but it’s comfy and clean, lived in and every bit of it has something of you. He sees pictures of you pregnant on your little silver fridge, pictures of Reign all over, along with Christmas cards all placed with magnets. He sees you’ve baked cookies, too, the scent making him starve.

Almost as much as your scent, so sweet and intoxicating, as he stands next to you, gesturing to the bags. “I wanted to get her something, remember?”

“This is a whole store though!” Kiyotaka leaves now, and you’re delving into the bags, gasping as you pull out the softest, fuzziest pink blanket. “Oh my god…”

“I just had them buy everything for a girl? Is pink good?”

You giggle then, smiling as you pull out a pretty pink dress. “She doesn’t know colors yet, Satoru.”

Of course she doesn’t.

Satoru truly doesn’t know shit about kids, he called and told his mom, asking for advice, and almost gave her a heart attack he thinks. “Of course not, I… where is she? Is she napping?”

“She is, but don’t worry she usually wakes up soon. Oh these are so cute, how expensive are these!? She’s gonna wear them for like a week!” You ask then, pulling out a little baby pair of fancy shoes, then two more. “She can’t even walk yet… ah, but these are so cute though.” You’re clearly conflicted, he chuckles a bit, then you stand up. “Oh my god, I’m a shitty host!”

“You’re cute.” His words, all husky with that deep voice of his, make you flush now, making you even cuter to him. “You look pretty today.”

“Oh thank you, I didn’t want you to think I’m constantly a monster.” He snorts, rolling his eyes.

“You’re cute either way. This was you pregnant?” He asks, as you lead him to the kitchen.

“Yes, I was a whale, oh god.” He touches the photo then, a longing surging through him, he missed this, he missed you like this. He feels an ache washing through him, looking at your glowing face and round tummy.

“No, you were beautiful.” Your breath catches, eyes shooting to his as he looks at you now, feeling something pulling you towards him, it’s like he takes the air out of your lungs just standing here.

“You’re very sweet, Satoru… thank you.” You manage to breathe out the words, when he looks down at your body now, heating it up with his gaze.

“Did you like being pregnant?”

The words throw images in your mind, of him over you, putting more babies in you, fucking insane ones that you shove down quickly. He was clearly caring, and wanting to be involved, you needed to keep your thoughts to that and only that, despite the way your stomach is fluttering at his proximity.

“I did love being pregnant, feeling her move and kick, singing to my tummy and feeling her calm down. But towards the end it was really rough, because she decided she wasn’t coming out.” You say with a little laugh, Satoru can see in how you speak how much you adore her. “Would you like to see more pictures later?”

“I’d love to. You didn’t open what I got you.”

“You shouldn’t get me anything. Oh, do you want some cookies?”

“Yes please.” He starts munching down on them, moaning. “You baked these?”

“I bake when I’m nervous? It gets insane how much I bake.” He smiles then, you’re tucking your shimmering hair behind your ear, grabbing him a glass of milk before you go grab the little bag.

“Open it, now.” He sips his milk as you sit on the barstool by the counter, fingers gently pulling apart tissue paper, until you open a little box and see a gift card.

“To a spa!? I haven’t ever been to a spa? What I can’t!”

“You will. When you’re comfortable I could watch her, so you could get some time to yourself.” You sniffle then, the kindness of him after all the overwhelming months you’ve had is too much, you shake your head.

“I can’t, it’s all too much, you shouldn’t feel like you have to do this!” He walks to you then, brushing a tear from your cheek, exhaling as he leans down so close.

“Sweetheart, I’m fucking rich, okay?”

“I assumed… wealthy with your clothes…”

“No, filthy fucking rich. Let me spend it on my baby and get her mom just a little thing please? How can you take care of her without any care for you?”

“I just do it, Satoru. I just do it.” He brushes more of your tears now, his lips far too close, you still don’t know him truly but the gesture is melting every defense you may have had up.

“Just go relax one day, not now, when you’re more comfortable.” Reign starts crying then, making Satoru back off just as you’d leaned your chin up, and you two had been so close. You back away too, nervously standing.

“I’ll go get her for you.” You say with a big smile, eyes still watery, and then you bring her out, Satoru’s heart swells even more than it did seeing you, he eagerly picks her up this time, versus being so nervous as before. “Dad spoiled you already.”

“Not even close to spoiled yet.” He murmurs, snuggling her to him.

“Have a seat, please.” He sits on the couch with her, you take one of the many little blankets, gently laying it over her and then sitting on the couch with him, as he stares at her in wonder.

“She barely cries?”

“That’s around you, it seems. She likes you already.” Your words fill him with far too much happiness, a happiness he’s never known, but also such a longing.

“I wish I could have been there.” He whispers, brokenly, the handsome white haired man holding your little girl, and suddenly you can picture it, maybe his big bright smile during what was a difficult labor.

“You’re here now.” You assure him, a hand gentle on his shoulder, the caress delicate before you think better of it, pulling your hand back. “I thought about you a lot, I mean… I tried to find you.”

“I wish you had.”

“Really?” He nods then, emotional. “Satoru Gojo, you surprised me, I thought for sure you’d turn and run.”

“Nah, why? Look at her.” She’s blinking her long lashes, grinning at him then. “So what do I like… do with her? Besides holding her?”

You laugh softly then, it’s so easy to have him around, it feels so natural that it’s weird. “Well you can feed her a bottle I pumped, but I breast feed mostly.”

He gulps now, looking at your top, where your nipples were pressing against the thin fabric. “Oh?”

“Yeah, depending on her mood, sometimes she is vicious. I’ll show you.” You gently take your top up, feeling his gaze when you pull off your nursing bra.

“That thing is easy access.” He murmurs, you giggle a bit, nervous for him to see you when you let it drop, revealing one of your pretty breasts to him, leaving him dazed before he snaps out of it, handing you Reign.

It’s very intimate, sitting with him while you feed her, she’s sucking hard, so hard you wince then, her little long nails digging into your breast as Satoru smirks. “You’re gonna laugh at this pain?”

“She’s just like her dad, look at her go. A pro.” You snort, rolling your eyes and shaking your head as Reign aggressively punches your breasts for more milk.

“I wouldn’t know, I don’t think you did that.” You murmur thoughtfully, pushing back flashes of the night while she suckles.

“That’s a tragedy.” You look down shyly, lashes casting shadows on your cheeks, while you feed his daughter, his daughter, it’s still not comprehending, it’s still taking him a lot to conceive it’s real. “Look at her face, oh my god!”

Your heart warms as he leans over, and Reign has stopped drinking, a goofy smile on her face. “She’s milk drunk.”

“What now? She looks high as fuck.” You hold in your laughter so you don’t wake her now, her eyes are shut and she’s still sucking on nothing.

“She does look stoned, it always cracks me up. Do you wanna put her to bed? I’ll show you where she sleeps.”

He nods and takes her again, watching your nipple with just a droplet of milk on it, he swipes it away before he can think better, making you shoot your eyes to him, lips parted. You hastily put the bra back up as a blush pinkens Satoru’s cheeks, slipping down your top, his touch on your sensitive nipples almost ended you just now. The desire for him in every way is almost insane.

You show him to the only room in your little place, it’s got a crib and a bassinet, and a tiny little bed that he assumes you must sleep in. You start wrapping her up in the new pink blanket then, swaddling her so tight, he watches in wonder at it, as you bundle her up.

“She’ll like a little burrito.” You snort in laughter, trying to keep quiet and covering your mouth then, looking up at Satoru in amusement.

“She kind of is? Babies like to be swaddled, they feel comfy.”

“You know so much… Have you had any experience before?” You both watch as she settles now.

“No, I learned all this from lots of books and bugging the shit out of my mother. Though she even thought I was crazy to have her. But something…” You trail off then, shaking your head. “Sorry.”

“No, please go on. Something?”

“Something told me I was meant to have her, it sounds crazy. But… I knew I could do it, even if it’s a lot.”

Satoru’s hand comes to rest on the small of your back, as you turn your head to look back up at him, seeing the emotions written all over his perfect face. “You’re doing great.”

You break down then at that, sobbing against his chest as he holds you, soothing rubs on your back. “I needed that, shit I’m sorry.”

“Shh, it’s okay.” You stay like that for a moment, letting him hold you against his chest, your face buried against his shirt, tears spilling freely while you take several breaths. “You’re a great mom, I can already see.”

“Shit…” You pull yourself together, taking several breaths and leaning back then, Satoru’s cupping your face and it takes everything not to kiss him, this man who you still barely know. “I really appreciate that. It’s been hard so far, but I love her so much, it's impossible how deeply.”

“I can feel it already. You, missy, need that break.”

“I couldn’t…”

“I want to be involved, I want to care for her, and that means her mom too. Yeah?” You shake your head, earning his little glare. “Stubborn little brat.”

“Excuse me!?” You glare right back, and he grins.

“You are one!”

“Me a brat?” Your eyes narrow as you cross your arms.

“Mmhmm.” Satoru tilts your chin up, your head falls back then, and he imagines entwining his fingers in it, imagining kissing you just like that night. He leans even closer and you pull back, clearing your throat.

“We should step out so we don’t wake her.” You murmur, when you’re back in the living room you’re carefully folding all the clothes he’s bought. “Oh, I promised lunch! You up for stir fry?”

“I’m up for anything you wanna make, after eating those cookies.” You set to work, and soon the two of you are eating lunch together, Satoru moans as he devours the food. “My god you’re a good cook.”

“Thank you, I love to cook.” You nibble on your rice thoughtfully. “Ugh, I’m gonna hate leaving her to work.”

Satoru scowls now. “Huh?”

“Maternity leave is over in two weeks. I’m just going to work part time though, so I’ll still see her plenty. Maybe I’ll bring her to work?”

“Where do you work?”

“A library, I’m very exciting.” Satoru grins now.

“You look like a little librarian.”

“What’s that mean?”

“Goodie goodie, despite the bathroom…” You both quiet then, as his mind whirls, and yours spins, remembering.

“S-Satoru!” You’d cried out as his fingers had pumped in and out of your tight little entrance, soaking his fingers as he kissed down your neck, you watched your reflection in the mirror as he pressed you against the sink, free hand gripping you right under your chin.

“Fuck, look at you? So sexy…” He murmurs, the club's music pounding like your heart in your chest. He has a big hand muffling your cries as you soak his hands, dripping all over him. “Hear her?”

His murmur against your ear makes you tremble, shivers sending down your spine as he builds that pressure inside you. You nod, drooling against his palm, when he is hitting that spot that has your eyes rolling back, pressing on it over and over with his long, thick fingers. You’re screaming into his hand, ass arching against him.

“That’s it, pretty, cum f’me huh?”

You both get quiet then, you see it clear as day, your face in that mirror as he’d filled you, and he remembers sucking your juices off his fingers, god it’s been almost a year and he can’t get your taste off his mind. He’d been with a few women here and there since he didn’t think he’d see you again, but they were nothing like it, nothing like you.

How your body responded, every little muffled cry, he remembers dying to get you fully naked, planning it all out when he would call you. He wanted you to not even leave his bed, he’d fully taste you, make you cum with his mouth. He’d get to look into your eyes as he filled you so good, have your legs up over his shoulders while he pumped inside.

It’s like electricity in your quiet little home, the two of you sitting in a daze, your breath comes quicker when he leans across the table, brushing your cheek with his fingers, feeling the heat on them. “Warm?” He teases.

“Um, a little.” You stand then, taking his plate and smiling, acting as normal as you can. “All done?”

“Yeah, thank you.” He watches you wash them then, he can’t even fathom not having a dishwasher, but you’re there with your pretty hands and that sponge. He doesn’t want you to work, he doesn’t want you even doing this, you should just enjoy the baby.

But with how stubborn you are, how independent? He doesn’t know if you’ll even take his offer when he makes it.

“How about you come to my place with the little Dumpling this weekend? Maybe… stay a night? I’ll have her something set up.”

“Stay the night?” You nearly break the dish you’re drying, Satoru catches it, suddenly next to you. “Who are you, Edward Cullen?”

“Pshh, I look like a glittery fucking vampire?”

“A bit.” You’re both laughing softly then, he dries the plates and you show him where to put them up. “It’s nice having a giant around.”

“Almost whacked my head on your ceiling fans.”

“The hardships of being stupidly tall, hmm?”

“Hmm.” He leans against the counter now, snowy lashes lowering as he studies you intently, those eyes that just do something to you, even after this long. It feels like you’ve known him, when one of his hands delicately brushes down your shoulder, feeling the soft knit of your cardigan. “You dress like a little librarian.”

“Do I now? Not that night.”

His nostrils flare just a bit. “Not that night.”

Satoru had you lifted on that sink, sinking inside you for the first time, damn near whimpering in your ear as he kissed on your breasts, trying to yank them out as much as he could but failing. “Slutty little dress.”

“S-slutty? You’re… slutty!” You’re clinging to him as he stuffs you so full, too fucking full, your cunt is drooling down his veiny length as he fucks into you, your thighs pressing against his narrow hips.

“Both are, listen to her… ha…” He’s got one hand cupping your face, looking at you before he slams his lips down, tongues dancing while his cock keeps thrusting, tip dragging your spot, as you fall apart in the bathroom, a tangle of limbs intermingling with muffled cries. “F-fuck…”

“That dress still does things to my mind.” He admits, and you wonder then, how’d you both get so close? How were you nearly flush against him?

“Does it now?” Your attempt at a tease meets with a broken voice, and you clear your throat, looking down shyly. “I don’t think my ass would fit in it now, your baby girl gave me some hips.”

“I bet they’re sexy.”

“She gave me stretch marks too.”

“Sexy.”

“You’re ridiculous.” You shake your head then, brushing a hand up his chest, wondering just what his body looks like. He's clearly built, you can tell he's muscular, but you have to wonder just how he looks. “You… don’t date anyone?”

“Nah. I mean I have had some dates this year, but nothing serious.” He couldn’t say it’s because of you, because he compares women to this random girl he felt such a pull to, and now it’s a million times worse. Even picturing cute little stretch marks from having his baby makes Satoru feral, it takes a lot not to show you, to act cool and calm with a little smirk.

“I haven’t at all. I mean… I’m so busy with Reign, and the pregnancy.”

“Been a while then?” His words are full of suggestion, his hand now brushes the air across your waist, hovering, like he wants to pull you in, and you’d let him, when Reign starts crying. You both step apart, his hands in his pockets, yours nervously fidgeting with your sweater.

“I’ll go get her.” You come back with her now, and Satoru lights up at seeing her in your arms, bending down to kiss her downy soft hair, sighing.

“Why does she smell so good?”

“Baby smell. I know, it’s addictive.” You inhale her scent, smiling as you are once again a centimeter from Satoru’s lips, your gaze goes to them, glossy and plump.

“Will you come this weekend?”

“Y-yeah, I’ll be there Satoru.”

“I am going to learn things, I promise.”

“Satoru, just take it one day at a time. You’re doing great.” He nods then, gulping down his every emotion as he leaves you two, and it feels so awful and wrong to leave you both, every force in the world pulling him back.

“How’d it go, Mr. Gojo?” Kiyotaka asks, as he’s driving him back home.

“Amazing. They're so beautiful.”

“They?”

“I mean…” You both are. “Kiyotaka, do you know shit about babies?” The man smiles tiredly then, shaking his head.

“No, Mr. Gojo, but I see you’re so… happy?”

Satoru has a silly grin then. “I am, I want to set something up for them, think you can order more baby things? For my place?”

“Certainly, Sir.” He smiles as he watches Satoru in the rearview mirror, he never would have pictured something like this, but it’s clear Satoru is beaming.

*****

“Come in, come in!” You pause in awe as you carry Reign inside Satoru’s insanely beautiful home. It's probably ten of your place if not more, sleek and elegant, everything brand new and sparkling clean. He’s instantly taking Reign, who is babbling at him as he cradles her, melting you completely before you even take a step.

“Your place is beautiful.” You murmur, he smiles at you then, taking your diaper bag off your arm and leading you inside.

“Thank you for coming, I missed her already!? Yes I did, dumpling!” He plants kisses all over her face now, Satoru Gojo holding your baby just did things to your heart, rewired your brain, seeing them both light up.

“She missed you too.” You murmur softly, Satoru looks at you then, white teeth glinting under the soft lights, taking in your pretty dress.

“Mama looks pretty.” He whispers, loud on purpose clearly, you’re a blushing mess, when Satoru’s blue eyes sweep over you.

“You’re too much.” You say, but you’re lowkey falling bad, you’d talked with him so much these past few days, as he asked endless questions, but also as you two got to know each other. You’d fallen asleep on the phone last night, Satoru had listened to your light little snore, smiling and falling asleep with you.

It seems too easy, which terrifies you, but so far it’s been Satoru being excited to be a dad, so you keep trying to remind yourself that is what this was, but it’s hard when he looks at you that way. “Too much? You haven’t seen shit. Come on.”

“Oh god.” You follow him now, as he leads you through a wide open hall, winking at you.

“Ya ready?”

“I think so?” He opens the door and it takes your breath for a moment, it’s a fully done nursery with everything a baby could need and more. There’s a pretty crib, a bassinet, a rocking chair even, it’s painted a baby pink with little teddy bears lining the ceiling. 

“I know, I went overboard, I don’t know how to not go overboard when I do things? And I want the best for her? I know you probably won’t be-”

“Satoru.”

“Hmm?”

You smile then, placing a hand over his where it rests on Reign’s lap. “It’s beautiful, it’s so beautiful.”

He exhales in relief then. “Yeah!?”

You’re giggling now. “Yeah.”

“Mommy likes it, yes!” His enthusiasm is infectious, it’s the first time you think you’ve truly been light hearted in so long, as he places her gently in the crib. “I had my mom go crazy and paid for it to get set up, really I did nothing but pay out.”

“It’s the most thoughtful thing in the world.” You hug him then on impulse, before pulling back shyly, your eyes meet each other, his hands on your waist. “But how will she go back to my shitty place? I hope she doesn’t get bougie.”

“I want her bougie.” You laugh again softly, she’s playing with the little ovehanging baby mobile, she’s enamored by the hanging stars. You watch him lean over the crib then. “She’s a princess, you know.”

You can’t take it then, you have to step out, shaking now, struggling to catch your breath, when Satoru steps out with you, looking at you with concern. Your feelings of him are utterly overwhelming, the beauty of Satoru fawning over his little girl puts these thoughts in your mind, of being a real family. As someone who didn’t have a father, and didn’t think Reign would, the hope filling you is so much.

“I got too excited.” He nervously admits, leaning against the wall next to you and rubbing the back of his neck. “I want her to have everything, if my mom didn’t talk me out of it she’d already have a pony.” You snort then, even through your tears. “There, a little laugh.”

“It’s not you, this is amazing, it’s just… I planned my life, I planned it all out with her, alone. And now… we won’t be? I don’t know how to process it, how to really believe it. But I’m so happy she’ll have it.”

“C’mere.” He pulls you against him into a big hug, arms wrapped around you tightly, bringing you against his chest. “I didn’t think I’d have this, a baby girl? I know what you mean, it’s not what I pictured.”

“Exactly. And… maybe I enjoy this too much.” You look up at him now, his lips quirked up at the side.

“Me too much?” He raises a brow.

“Maybe.”

“Hmm.” Satoru leans down close, when the doorbell rings, he exhales then, laughing softly, pressing a kiss on your forehead. “So I may have invited my mom. Is that okay?”

“Of course it is.” You are trying to calm your nerves when you meet her, long silky white hair and bright blue eyes. It's clear those genetics are strong, she surprises you by wrapping you in a hug.

“Where’s this grandbaby of mine?”

Soon she’s melting over Reign like the two of you have been, and Satoru’s made you both hot cocoa, family isn’t something you’ve really had, and to feel this comfortable and good? It’s almost like some dream, as you all are so cozy inside, and Reign is just getting fawned over, giving you a little bit of a reprieve until she’s hungry.

“I have a bottle, do you wanna feed her, Satoru?”

“I can do that?” You smile at him, nodding, and soon he’s got a bottle in her mouth, you position his arm just so as his mom watches you both with a knowing smile on her face.

“You know, I could always babysit sometime. For you two… to go out.” You both blush now, looking up at her.

“Go out?” You almost squeak the words out, sipping your cocoa now that it's gone just a little cold, enamored with watching Satoru.

“Yes, go out. Parents need time away.”

“We’re not… um…”

“I’d take you out.” Satoru says softly, and you feel those butterflies in your tummy going wild.

“Yeah?” You manage to ask, failing at being subtle.

“Yeah.” He smirks a bit, then Reign coughs. “What’s wrong!?”

“She needs to burp, calm down.” You lift her against your chest, patting her back now. “This is what you’ll do, it’s just some air in her tummy.”

“Oh thank god.”

“You three are precious.” His mom checks her phone then. “I have a meeting, but I hope to see much more of you both.”

“Me too Mrs. Gojo!” She smiles, planting a kiss on Reign’s head then yours before she leaves. “She’s amazing!?”

“I know, right? She was dying to meet her.” His hand rubs Reign’s little back, so big it’s as long as her almost, his other arm resting over the couch, brushing against you when he leans closer. “Thank you for having her.”

“Oh, Satoru… I just wish…”

“Yeah, me too.” He inhales and exhales, his eyes swimming with emotions. “I wish badly. I hate that I missed her coming into the world.”

“I’m so sorry… but I swear, she’ll not remember that, she won’t remember it at all.”

“But you remember.”

“Satoru, it's not your fault, don’t dare blame yourself.” He sighs now, his hand dropping off Reign to rest on your thigh over the thin black tights you wore.

“I don’t want you working yet. Will you let me help?”

“Satoru…” You shake your head. “You are not going to pay my bills.”

“Then stay with me? Stay the year with your baby… with our baby, please. She should have her mom home.”

“It’s too much of an offer, I can’t just live here! We aren’t even…”

“If you hate it I’ll get you your own place. I promise. Just let me take care of you… of both of you?” You stand, turning away, Satoru’s hands grip the sides of your arms as he leans close. “Please think about it.”

“I’m not a charity case, Satoru. I’m okay where I am.”

“I know that, okay? But I missed all of the pregnancy, I didn’t get to help with any medical bills, anything. Please just…” He turns your chin to face him, his glossy lips ever tempting as they hover just above yours. “Please think about it.”

“It’s overwhelming, okay?” He nods then, you lean back just so, feeling his lithe body against your back, leaning back just so.

“You’re not alone anymore.”

“Satoru…” He wraps his arm around you, resting his chin on your head. “You don’t have to do all this.”

“I want to.” For you and Reign, but Satoru can tell your pride is getting in the way, and he can tell you’re conflicted. “Give it time, no rush, yeah?”

*****

After a few weeks of constantly being at Satoru’s house, you damn near almost live there. You come over at about the same time Satoru’s off work, and he learns more and more about Reign every single day. He’s learned how to change diapers, how to feed her, and learns what certain cries mean. Reign rolls over for the first time on her mat and you’ve never seen anyone more excited than Satoru.

He takes selfies with her and they are Insta famous, he has Reign’s name painted on the nursery door, though she tends to still sleep in the room you stay in, with her little bassinet. Satoru’s had you in the guest room, but what you don’t know is at night he checks on you both, he kisses Reign’s forehead and tucks you in, he watches how cute the both of you are.

He watches you with Reign, ever attentive, and it’s about the time you’d have to go back to work, he can feel how devastated you are thinking of it, when you all are quietly sitting in the living room, having nibbled on takeout as Reign sleeps. You take a breath then, looking at the man you’re falling deeper for every day, every moment you spend with him.

“Satoru…”

“Yeah, sweets?” His little nickname always does something to you.

“I would love to stay with you, to stay home with her for a few more months, if you’re sure it’s still okay?”

Satoru jumps up then, picking you up and spinning you, you’re laughing breathlessly as he eases you down, and you’re flush against his body. Despite the endless times you’ve ached to kiss him, to do so much more, you both have been a little apprehensive, you both don’t know what’s okay, what’s not. You both feel far, far too much and are afraid of it.

“You’ll stay!?”

“I’ll stay. But I’ll cook, and help pick up, and-”

“Shh. Just stay.” He’s cupping your face, he’s so close you can almost taste his sweet breath, your lashes lowering over your eyes now. “I want you with her, let me do that for you? And… I want you here. All the time I… miss you when you’re not.”

“Are you giving me puppy dog eyes!?” You demand with a grin, and he pouts his lips.

“Maybe. Is it working?”

“It’s working.” You don’t stop yourself, not this once, when you lean up on your tiptoes, pressing your lips to his, and when you do, the eclectic shocks shoot from his lips, it’s just like that night a year ago, but more intense. You pull back nervously, looking away. “I’m sorry, I…”

“No.” Is all he says, pulling you back, bending low and taking over your lips, he moves them gently over yours, big hands taking over your waist and dragging you closer, mouth opening, tongue slipping past the seam of your lips. Your mouth opens in a gasp, and then his tongue delves inside it. “Don’t apologize for kissing me.”

“Satoru…” He’s exhaling against your lips, kissing you again, soon your back is on the couch, and he’s moving over you, his hand trailing your waist, up to your breasts, your hands clinging to his shirt, gripping the smooth fabric as you fall apart from his kisses. They’re sweet, intense kisses, slow like he wants to savor every moment with you, growing more and more insistent.

He pulls up, just looking at you now, your thighs are around his hips, you feel that ache between them, not just physically either, you crave more and more of him, and you have been since you saw him again. You both just look at each other, speaking without words as he slips up your top, and you yank it nervously, earning his frown, stopping your hand.

“Not ready yet?” He asks, you shake your head.

“You won’t… I’m not… I don’t like my tummy anymore.” You admit softly, tears threatening to spill, Satoru lifts your shirt then, leaning down and running his thumb across the little stretch marks Reign left.

“Well, baby girl… I love your tummy. Should I show you?” You shake your head, breaths coming quicker and quicker now. “You had my baby, you carried her for me, and she left you more beautiful than before.”

“Oh, Satoru…” He kisses your tummy then, and desire shoots straight through you, your hands finally entwining in that silky hair you’ve craved to feel for so long, he’s looking at you under lidded eyes, pressing kisses lower.

“You’re beautiful everywhere. I bet it was sexy pregnant.”

You giggle just a bit, making Satoru smile against your skin, fingers tugging down your pants then, earning a little cry that makes his cock so hard it hurts. He’s been dying to taste you on his tongue, to feel you around his fingers, watch that pretty face in pleasure again, but he’s tried to take his time, tried to focus on Reign, but the thing is, he loves both of you.

He’s in love with you.

The way you move, the way you smile, the way you are with his baby? How your eyes brighten when Reign did something new, how you blushed when he gave you a compliment. But also, how your hips are shifting now, how your eyes are getting lidded, dilated with desire, and how the little silver lines run across where his baby was inside you.

“Satoru… that feels too good I… mmm!” You cry out quietly when his fingers find your slick heat, finding you drenched already.

“You this easy for me?” He asks, you want to retort, something witty, but you can’t, you just gasp out in pleasure when he’s got your pants off, and he’s parting your thighs, long fingers pressing in the plush of your skin as he stares at your pussy. “Fuck you’re pretty.”

You’re trembling as you’re fully bare in front of him, his breath on your clit alone makes you jerk, he places a teasing flick of his tongue right on your clit, you cover your mouth to hide the pathetic moan. He flicks his tongue again, thumps slipping the plump lips of your sex apart, watching the wetness pool out of your little hole, he catches it with his tongue, groaning as he tastes you.

Your hands clutch his hair so hard you’re tugging at his head, eyes rolling back in your skull, biting your lip hard not to make too much noise. He looks up at you, slinking his tongue all the way up your dripping pussy now, from your hole to your clit, groaning as you drip all over his mouth, his face.

“It tastes as good as I remember.” He whispers, enjoying that ruby red blush on your cheeks. “You’re so cute like this, sensitive?”

“You’re torturing me.” He chuckles, the hot air making you whimper, a sound that shoots desire through him. “Please…”

“Please what, pretty?” He casually licks you once more, leisurely as if he has all the time in the world, tilting his head just so to flick the underside of it, watching the tiny little clit twitch. “Use your words, sweetheart.”

“Make me cum, please.” He moans then, devouring your pussy, his movements less teasing and precise and sloppy, now, lapping up all the juices that pour as you cry out in pleasure, hips bucking up for more, then you feel his fingers sliding in and out of you now, pressing in deep, finding that spongy spot that makes you shiver.

“There you go, you’re clenching me s’good. Can’t wait to feel you around me.” He murmurs, curling his fingers just so,  your legs are shaking so hard, you’re falling off that edge, chest rising and falling with your breaths.

“M-gonna… Toru…” Satoru moans now, the sound vibrating against your heat, he looks at you then, eyes dilated and dark, leaning up, his chin coated in your slick, shimmering.

“Cum for me, baby.” At that he sucks your clit into his mouth, tongue swirling around it, humming and making you shatter under him.

You come so hard you see stars bursting, eyes rolled back, your mouth in the most slutty O as you gasp out, you’re arching off the couch, his name a quiet little broken scream in the quiet room. You feel his smug grin against your sensitive bud, as he nips at it then with his teeth, making you jerk and whimper, leaning back to study your clenching little hole.

“There you go, so good for me, hmm?” He coles those words, slipping up you now, sliding his finger up and down your drippy slit, kissing you, letting you taste yourself off him.

“Need you. All of you.” You murmur then, he pauses his kisses, looking down at you, and emotions surge and mix with the pleasure, the insane need for him to fill you, over and over again.

“If we do, I want more than just… co parenting. I want more than just sex. I want…” Satoru gulps then, cupping your face carefully, your hand comes to grip his wrist, thumb brushing over his strong, fluttering pulse.

“I want more too.” You admit, swallowing nervously, as one of your hands rests on his chest.

“I want you to be my girl.” You’re crying then, nodding eagerly at his sweet and pure words, when he’s kissing you again, salty tears mixing with your taste. “Will you be? My girl?”

“I would love to be yours.” He moans again, standing then, helping you up, your arms wrap around his neck as he carries you, your lips don’t separate when he backs into his bedroom.

“Want you in my bed, every night.” He whispers, easing you onto the floor to stand, slipping your top off and revealing your breasts which sway just a bit, you eagerly unbutton his shirt, showing every inch of his chiseled, perfect frame. You gasp when you finally see him, fingertips trailing across sculpted muscles.

“You’re perfect, Satoru.” You whisper in wonder, and he cups your face again, kissing you deeply, a kiss so beautiful it ruins you forever, Satoru has ruined you forever, you know now what you knew that night deep down. “It’s only you.”

“It’s only you. You’re perfect.” You gasp as he picks you up again, laying you on the bed, you’re eagerly tugging on his pants, gasping when you see his huge, veiny length, something you’d had inside of you bud hadn’t even seen. You stroke him, earning his soft whine, he pins your wrist above your head.

“Lemme touch him, please?” You beg, earning both your hands pinned, as you laugh breathlessly.

“No way, I’m not busting quick, I’ve waited too long for this.” You giggle, earning his pretty glare. “I’m not.”

“You didn’t bust quick that night?”

“Yeah, I did.” You shake your head at him, gasping when he’s pressing against your entrance, he tenses, muscles flexing, when suddenly you both hear it, Reign on the baby monitor. “Shit.”

“Shit…” You both stay completely silent. “Maybe she’ll stop?”

“I sure hope so. Need to get you pregnant again.”

You blink in shock now, as Reign quiets. “Huh!?”

Satoru grins, a devious fucking grin, as he presses your legs apart, one over his shoulder, sinking in as you bite your lip, so filled by him, trembling beneath him as you roll your hips. “I need to see you pregnant, gonna be so fucking sexy.”

“You’re insane, Satoru Gojo.” You gasp when he shoves his length fully inside you, bottoming out and you’re so full you can’t breathe, clinging to his bare shoulders desperately as he moans, feeling your walls flutter.

“You didn’t know that yet? I’ll have to show you, sweetheart.” He’s fucking you then so good, thrusting in and out of your slick cunt, which is drooling all the way down his veiny length. He’s smirking as he rolls his hips just so, watching you start to come apart. “You love it, huh? Cock filling you so deep?”

“Please…” His leaking tip kisses your cervix, you shudder under him, cumming so hard you can’t tether yourself anymore, and he revels in it, in your pretty face all scrunched up, all reddened as you cry out.

“That’s it, can’t help yourself? Want me to fucking fill you?”

“Please…”

“You’re such a good girl, hmm?” The words short circuit what’s left of your brain, as Satoru leans back on his knees, hands slipping up your body, gripping your breasts, which have little droplets of milk. You whimper, trying to cover them. “Ah-ah.”

He leans forward, sucking them then, you’re so sensitive you scream, thanking everything Satoru has a huge home and that the baby couldn’t hear anything, because the sounds he writhes out of you are filthy. He leans up, licking the little droplets off and grinning again, possessively gripping your throat, hovering over you as his cock slides in again.

“God, even that’s sweet. All of you. Sweet and slutty.” He huffs, you’re kissing him desperately, nails pressing against his scalp as they grip his hair. “My girl, you’re all mine now, hmm?”

“Wanna be… y-your girl.” You whisper, ending him as your cunt gushes down on him, as he feels the tight muscles grip him like a vise, he eases back, shoving your legs up then in a mating press, every instinct making him crave to make you his again. Cum in you, fill you, make you pregnant. “Toru… I haven’t… not a lot of… exper-ah!”

“That’s alright baby, I’ll fuck you so good, all you gotta do is take it, yeah? Look so fucking pretty f’me.” The sweet, emotional and cute Satoru is now feral, psychotic and possessive, his eyes so blue they hurt to look at, but you’re nodding eagerly. You’ve never been fucked like this, not even close, but he assures you, over and over that you can take him. “That’s right, gonna take all of me.”

Your thighs are smushed against your breasts as Satoru fucks you harder, perfect strokes that hit every spot, spots you can’t even figure out, the ridge of his cock hitting again and again until you’re close, already having cum twice. You’re sobbing under him as he leans his weight on your thighs, folding you in half and going deeper, deeper, bottoming out.

His balls slap heavy on your ass, so full and ready to pump his load in your eager hole, you’re a mess, tears on your cheeks, mumbling incoherently, pussy drooling and loosening more and more. You take him, all of him greedily then, as he slows just a bit, leaning up to press your thighs even higher, watching his cock disappear as your cunt sucks him in.

“Oh look, she’s taking me s’good, she wants it huh? You want it, greedy, slutty pussy.” He’s talking to your pussy, but you also can’t care, not when you’re so close, incoherently whining. “Can’t talk, sweetheart?”

“Gonna… cum… again… Satoru!” He moans as you speak his name, using a forearm to press your legs up, angling his cock just so, shoving deep as he presses a thumb to your clit, ending you utterly.

“There you go, cum on lemme fuckin feel her milk me.” He huffs, husky voice hoarse as your orgasm washes over you, full body, you’re shaking and sobbing as your arousal pours down him, making him tense, gasping. “Oh fuck…”

“Cum in me. Cum in me, please.” You beg weakly, and Satoru does then, full mating press, pumping all his cum so deep, filling you to the brim as he leans down, whimpering with you, tongues sloppy as you kiss.

“Feel s’perfect… gonna make you a mommy again, yeah?” You nod weakly, cunt throbbing as he pumps more and more, nails pressing into his back as you both ride your orgasms out, until you’re sensitive messes. “F-fucking… b-baby…”

“Satoru, g-god…” He is exhaling, easing your sore thighs down then, pulling out and watching the mess that pours from your pussy, a mix of his cum and yours, he grins at it.

“You’re so messy, hmm?” He shoves two fingers in your cunt, pushing his cum back in as you scream out. “Aww, you can’t take it baby?”

“Too much, ngh!” Satoru slips his fingers out, sucking on them and moaning, before repeating it, shoving them in your mouth, you moan as you suck them greedily, both kissing again, a tangled mess of limbs.

“Taste us together, god.”

“So yummy.” He kisses you again, again, again, as you struggle to come back down, heart still racing. “My god…”

“Yeah, holy fuck.”

“You’re like… you have a breed kink like bad.” He snorts then, kissing up the side of your neck.

“Could it have to do with the fact that my girl is gorgeous with my baby? And I’d love to really see her pregnant?”

“I want you there too. I do, even if this is insane.”

“Is it?”

“Yes, first we have a baby, then we move in together? What next, a first date?”

“You know… yes. Mom offered?”

You giggle at him. “So is this you asking me on a date!?”

“Mmhmm, with my cum pouring out. Wasting it, tsk tsk.” He starts kissing down your body again, when Reign cries, this time loudly. “Ugh.”

“Ugh.” You agree, brushing back his hair when he kisses your tummy. “You make me feel beautiful, Satoru.”

“You are.” He says simply, kissing you deeply, helping you up. “Most beautiful girls there are.”

“I…” You almost say it, but you’re still so afraid, those words on the tip of your tongue. Satoru smiles as if he knows.

“Go check on her.”

“Yeah.” You are soon all dressed, and Reign is no longer crying once she gets swaddled, her binky in her mouth. Satoru comes behind you, arms wrapping you tightly and pulling you against him.

“So, that date?”

“Mmm, got plans already?” You look back at him, as he holds you so sweetly in the quiet room.

“Yeah, the spa you never went to, brat.”

“Oh! Yes, let’s.”

*****

Satoru Gojo and you have had a baby, then moved in, and then you had your first date, which was both of you getting pampered, you were giggling when Satoru kept eating the cucumbers meant for his eyes, when he moved the masseuse because he got jealous of him. “My girl, I’ll rub your back.”

“So jealous.” You tease, but you then sigh in pleasure as his big hands rub your body just so.

“Maybe I am. Maybe I don’t ever wanna lose my girls.” You pause then, leaning up, breasts revealed as you’re just wearing a little towel. But Satoru’s eyes are serious, when he gently rubs his hands down to the back of your hips.

“You’re not losing us.” He’s kissing you, leaning over you in the spa, when he whispers in your ear.

“Let’s go.”

In the backseat of Satoru’s driver’s car, headed back home, you and Satoru devour each other, his hands on your rib cage, his lips on your nipples. Your head falling back, arching up for more, never, ever able to get enough. He’s filling you again, and you’re soaking him again, he’s fucking up into you one moment, one moment you’re controlling it.

A push and pull, a back and forth, endless kisses, until he’s filled you up again, whispering the lewdest things, picturing you as his wife, picturing you pregnant again, but the words are coming out as muffled, dirty words that don’t match. And you feel the same, you think the same, but you’re too fucked out to speak, too lost in everything that is Satoru Gojo.

That night, Reign is up and down, and you’ve just given her a bath, singing to her and cradling her. Satoru watches you, emotions catching in his throat, as a sliver of moonlight darts through the windows, illuminating the faces of the two girls he adores. Reign is being fussy, huffing, but then she hears you sing, and she’s calming, drifting off just so.

You catch him watching you, smiling at him, laying her back down gently. Satoru leans over, brushing a thumb across her cheek, as she sleeps so peacefully. “I love you, dumpling.” He murmurs to her, your heart aches at his words, as you repeat them softly to her, and Satoru wraps an arm around you.

“I love both of you.” You look at him then, so nervous, but he exhales, kissing you softly, feeling tears fall from his eyes, pulling back to see you’re trembling. “I know it’s a lot, but you have to know that I love you. I love both of you so much it hurts.”

“I love both of you.” Your heart hammers in your chest, as a hand slips up your back, and he leans down, blue eyes swirling with tears. “I’ll take care of you both, always. I… I’m complete now, with you both. I can’t ever lose you.”

“Satoru, never. I never want to be without you again.” Your hushed whispers are followed by sweet kisses, until you both close the door quietly, and Satoru has you picked up in his arms, effortless as you hold onto him, resting your foreheads against each other. “I’m home, here.”

“You are home, here. Want you to have my last name, both of you. Please.” You nod, sniffling as he carries you, kissing you desperately, pressing you against the door of his room once you’re back inside. “Need you to have my last fuckin’ name.”

“We will, Satoru. We’ll all be Gojos, hmm?” He grins so big then, easing you down and turning you, vivid memories of that night filling your mind, overwhelming your senses. Your head falls back as he kisses down your neck, slipping your shorts to the side to find you.

“So ready f’me?” You nod weakly. “Good, need to have a whole fucking clan of Gojos, yeah? Gonna give it to me?”

“Mnh, yes.”

You would give Satoru anything, and finally every piece that seemed so out of sorts is in place, as you found something you didn’t know was missing, and he found a family he didn’t know he had. As he eagerly works you so well that night again, you also know you want to give him more.

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[sttoru]

𖠵 I’M YOURS.

𝝑𝑒 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. you visit your husband during his work hours to hand him his lunch which he forgot at home. his subordinates are surprised to see their superior act so gentle with you—a total opposite to how he usually is when finding and punishing outlaws.

tags. wild west sheriff!kento nanami x wife!female reader. fluff, smut. set in the wild west (1860’s - 1890’s). blǒwjob. size difference (reader short), p in v -> unprotected, breeding themes, creampié, semi-public, hair pulling. traditional views of marriage. nicknames: darling, sugar, sweetheart. wc: 6.4k

the southern parts of the county are sweltering under an unrelenting sun, and most of the townsfolk have retreated indoors to escape the heat. kento nanami - the town’s sheriff - is taking a quick break, having just returned from breaking up a violent brawl at the local saloon. damn drunkards, he thinks as he shakes his head. they have been causing havoc all afternoon, threatening to turn the place into a shooting gallery. he had to put them in their place.

kento strolls to a nearby window, silently critiquing the poor job done on the grimy glass. his eyes scan the wagons that roll in and out of town to keep watch for anything out of the ordinary. but before long, his thoughts wander, and he found himself thinking of you. his dearest. his beloved. his world— his wife.

the blonde man wonders what you’re doing right now. are you preparing supper, or perhaps knitting him another one of those scarves in preperation for the colder weather?

one of his hands slips into the pockets of his slacks, fingers brushing against the handkerchief you gifted him. he smiles as he traces the embroidered flowers. their colors are still vibrant despite the constant wear. it has become his lucky charm over the years.

kento sighs as he catches a glimpse of a couple in the distance. they share a kiss, the woman waving her partner off with a handkerchief of her own as her husband leaves on his horse. the sight has his jaw clenching as guilt creeps in. he had left home in such a hurry this morning, that he hasn't kissed you goodbye properly. he hopes that you didn’t take it personally.

it is a small thing, but he makes a mental note to apologise for that later.

kento turns around from the window he’s been staring out at for the past couple minutes as one of the deputies hustles a trussed up outlaw into the office. the other male slams the wooden door shut behind them which rattles the place. the outlaw is a scruffy looking fellow and his wild eyes dart nervously between kento and the shotgun-toting deputy.

the blond sheriff pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration. just when he thought he could have a peaceful break... duty calls.

“got ourselves a lil’ troublemaker here, sheriff,” jake says and gives the outlaw a rough shove forward. the man stumbles, nearly falling to his knees before catching himself.

kento’s jaw clenches as he looks the outlaw up and down, his hazel eyes hardening. he aims to keep the peace in this small town, and that means dealing with the dregs of society from time to time. anything to keep the folk safe. especially if it meant protecting his dear wife.

“ye damn pieces of shit,” the outlaw spits, glaring defiantly at the two authoritive figures standing in front of him, “i ain't done nothin’ wrong, ya hear?”

there it is; the cliché line nearly every sentenced outlaw utters whenever they’re caught. kento runs a hand through his hair and scoffs as a muscle in his jaw ticks. one thing he hates are shameless outlaws who claim to have done no wrong.

this man before him has been on countless bounty posters, plastered all over the county. wanted dead or alive, for assault, murder and robbery. bart cavanaugh, the thug’s name is.

kento barks out a harsh laugh, but his face doesn’t show an ounce of emotion. the deputy shifts on his feet. the young man had seen that face on the sheriff countless times before. it’s intimidating and scary, the tension in the room palpable.

“done nothin’ wrong? boy, y’ve been stealin’ and killin’ yer way through half the damn county. and now y' got the audacity to stand there and lie to my face?”

kento steps forward and looms over the outlaw, his broad shoulders squared. his hand drifts to rest on the butt of his holstered revolver. the metal is cool and reassuring against his palm.

“jake, go fetch the preacher. tell him to start diggin' a new grave,” kento orders without taking his piercing eyes off the outlaw. his free hand shoots forward to grab a good handful of the man’s matted hair, yanking it back roughly. the sheriff’s eyes are cold and calculating, “looks like we got us a hangin’ to do ‘fore sundown.”

the outlaw’s eyes widened in fear and he tries to take a step back, but kento’s strength is not to be matched. “but... but you can’t!” he stammers, “i got my rights, i-i'll have ya know that!”

“rights?” kento huffs and releases the thug with a rough shove, dusting his hand off on his blouse as if he touched something filthy. “the only right ye got is the right to wait here and take what's comin’ for ya.”

it did not take long before the outlaw is sentenced, hauled outside and led toward the gallows. kento stretches his arms above his head, feeling the tension slip from his shoulders. another task crossed off the list. he can only hope that the rest of his break will pass quietly without any more disturbances.

the exhausted sheriff drops into the wooden chair behind his desk and leans back with the nth sigh of the day. his fingers fumble with the drawer, and after a moment of rummaging, he pulls out a cigar. he strikes a match and lights it up before placing the stick between his lips. kento closes his eyes and inhales deeply, letting the burn of the tobacco settle his mind.

minutes slip by in silence—just the quiet flicker of the lamp and the rhythmic sound of his own breathing. then, the front door creaks.

kento’s eyes flicker open. a loud prayer sounds in his head; please lord above don't let it be another caught outlaw. not another deputy or bounty hunter with some new problem to throw his way.

however, when he looks up, all the weight on his shoulders vanishes in an instant. there you are - his wife - standing in the doorway like an angel sent to pull him from the depths of his workday hell. the stress, the frustration, all of it fades away in your presence.

kento squints through the haze of cigar smoke as you walk inside with a beaming smile on your face. fuck, you're beautiful. a dream come true.

he takes a long drag and holds it in his lungs before exhaling slowly. the smoke curls around his tired face. his hazel-colored eyes narrow as they rake over your figure. a little provocative, he thinks, not wearing a shawl on your exposed shoulders. especially around these parts of town—with other men lurking that aren’t your husband.

“well, well, if it ain’t my sweet lil' wife,” the blonde rumbles, setting the cigar down in the ashtray. kento leans back in his chair which causes the wooden furniture to creak under his muscular frame. “what brings you ‘round these parts, darlin'?”

it is unusual for you to visit him during work hours. normally, you’d be at the house, attending to your duties. taking care of your cozy home, or perhaps socialising with the other wives around town at one of your regular gatherings. kento didn’t expect to see you here, yet the sight of you is a welcome surprise. even more so when you look so radiant, as if the sunlight itself has wrapped around you.

“ah, you forgot your lunch dear,” you explain with a warm smile. your voice carries a familiar tone that always seems to soothe your husband. you nod politely to his colleagues who’re staring at you in awe and curiosity. you continue, “i started to worry. i can’t possibly have my husband starvin’ at work, now can i? ain't so proper as y’r wife.”

your words make kento’s heart lighten. the smile that has faded from his face the second he left you this morning, finally finds it way back. his entire demeanour softens and his body relaxes.

the two deputies, who have been going about their duties in the background, can’t help but glance over at the scene unfolding. they exchange a bemused look as they watch kento’s demeanor shift the moment you walked into the office. it’s almost comical how quickly the stern, commanding sheriff transforms into a doting and affectionate husband.

kento stands up, his tall, imposing figure towering you as he approaches. the gun belt slung low on his hips clinks softly with each step along with the spurs on his boots. he reaches out, taking the cloth wrapped box from your dainty hands. his calloused fingers brush against your skin, sending a jolt of electricity through him.

“well, much obliged, sugar. yer a real sight for sore eyes,” kento comments, his deep voice lowering to an intimate rumble. he sets the box down on the desk before stepping closer to you. his eyes search for yours while his hands gently rub your sides.

“any time,” you shyly duck your head as you sense the tension between kento and you building up. it’s always like this between you two. the honeymoon phase? for you it’s not a phase, it’s a forever thing. until death do you part.

your hands reach up, slithering from his sides to his chest to straighten his sheriff’s badge. “has work been okay, hun?” you murmur in a honeyed voice, the one that drives kento crazy. neither of you seem to care about his co-workers standing around, lost in your own little bubble.

kento’s hand slides from your side to your throat, fingers skimming over your pulse point, enjoying the rhythm of your heartbeat beneath his touch. “work’s been a pain in the ass, darlin’. same ol’ song and dance,” he replies while his half lidded eyes dart all over your pretty face, “but now that y’re here, it's startin’ to look up.”

your conversation is casual, yet the underlying tension tells you there is more to it. even the deputies become aware of what’s playing in the middle of the office. or more so, what's about to happen if the passion in both kento and his wife’s eyes come to life.

kento can’t help but smirk as you press yourself against him. your soft curves mold to the hard planes of his muscular body, a stark contrast to the gentle hands that hold you close. his eyes darken once he catches you looking up at him through those long lashes of yours. that’s his damn weakness.

“y’know, seein' you here, lookin' like sin in that dress—it’s making me think all sorts of improper thoughts,” he starts in his deep voice. your husband lowers his head to whisper in your ear, “thoughts about bendin’ you over my desk and showin’ ya what happens to naughty little wives who distract their husbands at work.”

a shiver runs down your spine even though this is exactly what you wanted. you came here to deliver kento’s lunch, yes, but you've also missed his attention, affection and most importantly his touch. due to his job, he’s not at home for almost the entire day.

you don’t want to come off as clingy, but when you have a man like kento to call yours, you can’t help but want to be greedy.

the same goes for him as well. kento is ever the devoted lover, head over heels for you, and that includes feeling a great sense of physical attraction to you. he can’t help it—especially when you look so adorable, playing the role of the dutiful wife, visiting him at work to drop off his lunch. it’s a massive turn on.

“l-later. there are others here,” you try to play your erotic interaction off, even as you feel the insistent press of kento's clothed cock against your lower belly. your cheeks heat up as you realise that this bit of proximity had already turned your husband on.

kento licks a stripe up your earlobe, his teeth grazing the flesh before he soothes it with his slick tongue. he knows he shouldn’t be so explicit with you, not here in his office where anyone could walk in. but he simply cannot resist your charms. that pretty body and voice of yours are like a siren’s call to him.

however, he also notices your hesistance because of the company you have. kento, ever the thoughtful man, glances up at the deputies sitting around the office. his gaze hardens and his voice is filled with authority, “don't y’all got better things to do than sittin’ ‘round here?”

it’s a hidden message that all men in the room clearly understood. kento wanted them out and as soon as possible so he can take care of his wife. his duties are put on hold for as long as you need him by your side. he trusts his coworkers to deal with the rest while he’s busy attending to your needs.

the deputies scramble to their feet and grab their stetsons, hurrying out of the office with a chorus of 'yes, sir!' and 'right away, sir!' some smirk knowingly as they make their way out into the muddy streets. they know all too well about kento’s soft spot—the one woman he’d do anything for. even if it means that he ignores his work for a while.

within seconds, the office clears out, leaving kento and you alone. he turns back to you and his eyes instantly roam over your feminine curves. from the swell of your soft breasts to the flare of your hips. oh, his mouth immediately starts to water.

“now, where were we?” the blond man hums. he stalks forward until your back hits the wall with a inaudible thud. you swallow thickly as you look up at kento, who’s staring back at you like you’re a five course meal.

but beneath that passionate gaze is something so intimate. so much more gentle and loving. with every touch, his eyes still search for yours, wordlessly confirming your consent. it’s a habit of his—ever since he took your innocence on your wedding night.

kento’s hands slide down to grab your thighs. he hoists you up and encourages you to wrap your legs around the dip of his waist, holding you between his body and the wall. his eyes flicker downwards to where the skirt of your dress rides up and exposes more of your soft skin to his greedy touch.

“i need you,” your lover breathes against your lips. his mouth is an inch from yours, eager to capture it in a kiss. kento groans the second he feels your clothed cunt press against his throbbing bulge. his fingers dig into the plush flesh of your ass, “shit. i need you now.”

not a second more is wasted as your husband crashes his lips against yours. he presses you back against the wall, moaning into your mouth. this is what he missed the most. your touch, your taste— it makes him feel alive. like all his hard work is worth it.

your fingers curl into his blond locks, tugging at them as your lips move in sync. your tongues roll around each other and your lower bodies move accordingly, grinding for fiction. “are ye sure? right here?” you ask between gasps, voice muffled as his lips interlock with yours repeatedly.

kento pulls away, but not fully. he can’t let you go in any way or form. his head instantly dives into the crook of your neck, his breath hot and heavy against your skin. he immediately latches onto your throat and kisses his way down to your collarbone.

this is exactly what he needs after a hard day. the familiar perfume mixing with the faint scent of your arousal and something so homey—it’s dizzying.

“never been more sure,” your husband groans once he feels your nails gently drag down from his nape to his back, slipping beneath the collar of his blouse. little minx, he thinks, knowing exactly what makes a man weak.

kento tilts his head back so he can look into your eyes. your gaze catches his and you’re taken aback by how handsome he looks. he always does, of course, but this sight just makes you clench around nothing. it leaves you throbbing in your underwear.

the way his neat hair has now turned messy, locks covering his half-lidded eyes, biceps straining against the material of his blouse, sharp jaw clenching with the effort to hold himself back from completely ravaging you. . .

you’re soaked.

kento grins at the way your kiss-swollen lips fall apart in a small ‘o’ as you admire him. he knows he looks good and it boosts his confidence. “keep lookin’ at me like that,” he encourages as his lower body grinds against yours.

you can feel the thick outline of his dick pressing and rubbing against your clothed cunt and it causes you to jerk in place. your moans get swallowed by your husband’s lips once more, his mouth not giving you a moment to breathe as he kisses you more demandingly this time.

kento carries you to his desk, not once separating your lips from his. he sits down on his chair and settles you down on his thick thighs. your arms immediately wrap around his neck to deepen the kiss.

the steamy make out session continues for a while, both of you breathless. you finally pull back for some air and open your eyes to meet your husband’s. the way he’s looking at you, like you’re his entire world, makes you weak in the knees.

“let me take care of ya first,” you suggest in a hoarse whisper against his lips. you feel kento stiffen beneath you, his cock throbbing impatiently in his slacks at the implication.

“go right on ahead,” he bites his lip and watches your wandering hands drag down from his shoulders to his chest. the muscle in his jaw ticks as he tries his best not to intervene—to grab and bend you over his desk already.

kento’s breath catches in his throat as your delicate hands worked at his belt, the leather creaking softly as you undo the buckle. he watches, transfixed, as you tug his pants down.

suddenly, his large hand reaches out to wrap around your smaller one, squeezing it. “wait,” kento hisses and his adam’s apple bobs in his throat. he’s trying so hard not to lose control.

he takes a deep breath after closing his eyes, hips bucking lightly against your warm palm as it rests against the deliciously big bulge in his undergarments. you gently drop to your knees in front of him while giving him some time to regain his composure.

when kento opens his eyes again, he lets out a low growl from the back of his throat at the sight of you looking up at him with those big eyes. so ready, so eager to please your husband. it can make him bust a nut in his underwear.

“go on,” he whispers gruffly, letting go of your hand but not before giving it a quick kiss. that gentleman side of his never fails to make an appearance, even during sinful moments like these.

you nod and smile in excitement. you lick your lips before hooking your fingers beneath the material of the jockstraps. you slowly tug it down and free his aching cock from its confines. the thick length springs up, gently slapping against his lower stomach and leaving a smear of sticky pre-cum on the fabric of his blouse.

kento’s cock was a thing of beauty—long, thick, and girthy, with a bulbous head already glistening with arousal. veins puls along the shaft, and a faint clump of blonde curls dusted the base. the musky scent of his desire fill your nostrils, making your head swim with need.

the pre-cum trickles enticingly from the slit of his tip, a drop slithering down slowly to his heavy balls. it’s evident how much you affect the man and it makes your tummy do a flip.

“mmh— kento. y’re so hard already,” you moan as your pink tongue lolls out to lap up the sticky liquid from the head. you give it a couple small licks to tease your partner, a coy grin playing at your lips.

kento growls, one hand coming down to tangle in your hair at the contact. “fuckk, sugar,” he instinctively thrusts his hips forward, the swollen head of his cock brushing against your soft cheek, leaving pearly drops of pre-cum on your skin. “been thinkin’ about this sweet lil’ mouth all damn day. dreamin’ about them pretty lips wrapped around my dick,” he breathes heavily.

the once composed sheriff is a total mess. he squeezes the base of his dick as he gently taps your cheek with it, trying to coax your lips to part. “c’mon. ye can’t keep this from me any longer,” kento grunts with his brows furrowed.

when you blow some warm air on his tip, he throws his head back at the contact. he’s aching for relief and sitting there teasing him. he could manhandle you to comply, but he’s simply too needy for your touch to do so.

kento gulps before looking down at you. his expression is a mix of frustration, pleasure and neediness. his cheeks are flushed, blonde locks covering his eyes. he breathes out his plea in a shaky tone;

“please.”

your jaw drops at that unexpected moment of vulnerability. it’s thrilling and causes you to immediately give in to his charms. you silently hum in agreement before wrapping your lips around his tip, swallowing inch after inch slowly.

a guttural groan tore from kento’s throat as your hot, eager mouth engulfs his twitching cock. the sensation of your tongue swirling around the sensitive head, lapping up the pre that still leaks steadily from the head, was almost more than he could bear. his fingers tighten in your hair, gripping the strands as he fought the urge to thrust deep into your throat and take his pleasure.

“awh shit,” kento growls. his voice is strained with pleasure at this point, not even able to say things properly. “yer mouth feels so fuckin’ good ‘round my dick.” he watches through heavy-lidded eyes as you take him deeper, his thick length disappearing inch by inch between your plump and kiss-swollen lips. the sight of you, on your knees before him, servicing him with such enthusiasm, sends a surge of pure primal satisfaction through him.

you redouble your efforts and bob your head. up and down, up and down—a hypnotic rhythm that has the man in front of you wrapped around your little finger.

“such a good little wife—yeah, jus’ like that,” kento’s hips rock up to your downward movements, driving his cock deeper into the tight, wet heat of your mouth.

he can feel the wet muscles fluttering around him, could hear the obscene sounds of your gagging and slurping as you struggle to take him all the way. but you didn’t stop, didn’t pull away. instead, you start sucking him with a fervor that has him seeing stars.

kento’s eyes roll back and he’s trying his best not to cum on spot. he wants to last longer, wants to relish the feeling of you pleasuring him and most importantly—he wants to spend his cum well. in a place where it can take root, where it’d serve its intended purpose.

inside you.

but it’s hard. so hard. especially when you’re watching his every reaction, eyes so captivating and alluring as you suck the soul out of him.

“don’t—oh lord,” kento grits his teeth as your hands cup his balls and squeeze them, rolling them in your palm. the dual sensations of your mouth and hands working in tandem had his breath coming in harsh pants, his muscular chest heaving with the force of it.

your husband’s head tilts backwards, the chair creaking beneath him as he grips the armrests with white knuckles. he’s lost in the sensation of you worshipping his dick, your moans vibrating around his shaft as you slurp and suck with abandon. he knows he will not last much longer at this rate, knows he is going to paint your mouth white with his seed any second now.

kento doesn’t really want to, but he also does. he’s conflicted, though it’s already too late. one particular suck and his tip hitting the deepest parts of your throat sends him over the edge.

“ah, fuck! cummin’, sweetheart!” he moans loudly, his eyes squeezed shut as the first spurts of his hot seed flow from his cock. he can’t stop it, even as he tries to pull your head off due to the overstimulation.

when you finally let his dick go with a lewd, wet pop, kento gasps for air, pushing the hairs away from your face. you’re looking so debauched, so lost in the pleasure, it sends his blood rushing southwards. again.

“there ye go. swallow it all down f’ me,” he mutters quietly, voice rough as his thumb swipes away at the cum on the corners of your mouth. he watches your throat work as you drink down the taste of him.

before you can catch your breath, kento hauls you up off the floor and onto his lap, his hands gripping your waist tightly. he feels the renewed throb of his erection pressing insistently against your thigh, already aching for more.

“dammit, darlin’,” he clicks his tongue, his voice rough and ragged with lust. “y’ve got me so fuckin’ worked up— can’t hold back no more.” his callused hands slide down to grab your round ass, kneading the flesh roughly as he grinds your clothed cunt against his wet dick.

kento stands abruptly and sweeps the contents of his desk onto the floor with a crash. papers flutter everywhere as he bends you over the now empty surface, the rough wood digging into your soft skin. he can’t care less about those important documents. not when he has his wife in front of him.

he flips the hem of your dress up, the material pooling around your waist to bare your underwear-clad ass. you’re already so wet, your pussy lips clinging to the soaked fabric of your undergarments, outlining your cunt perfectly. it’s a sight that makes kento weak in the knees.

“look at this sweet lil’ ass,” the blonde man rasps, delivering a sharp smack to one cheek. the sound echoes through the office, followed by your startled yelp. “she’s g’nna be hurtin’ when i’m done with her, i bet.”

you arch your back in response to the slaps against your bottom, “mhh, kento. need you real bad.” your ass rippling with each smack to it, along with your soft voice begging for him, makes your husband dizzy.

with a muttered curse, kento rips your underwear off, the flimsy fabric tearing like tissue paper in his large hands. he tosses the ruined garment aside, leaving you bare and exposed to his ravenous touch. his callused fingers delve between your thighs, finding you dripping wet and ready.

“tsk. would ya look at that,” he groans, plunging two thick fingers knuckle-deep into your tight cunt. “yer fuckin’ soaked. practically beggin’ for my cock like the needy lil’ slut you are.”

you can only moan in response, your hips bucking back against his invading fingers. those nasty words being said by your usual sweet lover makes you crave more. the obscene squelch of your arousal fills the air as he pumps his digits in and out of your fluttering pussy. you can feel every ridge and vein on his fingers as they stretch you open so well, preparing you for his thick cock.

“that’s it, baby,” kento encourages, his thumb finding your clit beneath its hood and rubbing the sensitive nub in rough circles. “get this sweet cunt nice and ready f’ me. am gonna make you feel so good, i promise.”

kento’s fingers pump faster, plunging in and out of your dripping pussy with wild abandon. the wet, sloppy sounds of your arousal fill the room as your slick walls clench greedily around the invading digits. he can feel you getting closer, your body tensing and quivering as he worked you towards a peak.

“cummin’ already? naughty girl,” kento growls, his voice a low, dominant rumble, “can’t have that.”

with a harsh tug, he yanks his fingers from your weeping cunt, leaving you empty and aching. “kennnn,” you whine as your fingernails dig into the wooden desk beneath you. you wiggle your hips back in frustration, needing more.

kento can see your hole clenching around air, trying to draw something back inside. the sight makes him groan, his cock throbbing painfully between his thick thighs. he’s such a weak man when it comes to you.

“i hear ya— i hear ya,” he mutters, giving in quickly to your needy whine. your dear husband can’t tease you when you’re basically begging him to take you. he grips himself in one hand, stroking his shaft as he rubs the swollen head over your dripping slit.

kento slides the engorged tip teasingly along your slick folds to coat himself in your arousal as he aligns your lower bodies. with a single thrust of his hips, he buries himself fully inside you. his heavy balls slap against your ass with a faint, meaty smack.

“fuuuck!” kento cusses and his voice echoes off the office walls as he hilts his dick in your wet pussy. no matter how many times he ruins your cunt, it’s still as tight as the first time. “fuckin’ hell, sugar,” he breathes out shakily.

your silken walls grip him like a vice, the slick muscles fluttering and clenching around his fat dick. he pauses for just a moment to savore the exquisite sensation of being buried inside his wife's perfect little cunt.

however, he cannot hold back for long. gripping your hips hard enough to leave finger-shaped dents on your flesh, he begins to move, his thighs flexing as he sets a relentless rhythm. the obscene sound of flesh slapping against flesh fills the room as he fucks into you. the ancient desk creaks and shakes with each forceful thrust. it’s a wonder that old thing isn’t breaking.

“tha’s it, take it,” kento snarls. he punctuates each word with a sharp snap of his hips. the feeling of his slick dick slamming into you over and over has him nearly tearing up from pleasure. this is the way to forget about all his earlier problems

“doing so good, honey. yer squeezin’ the life outta me—good girl,” he praises in-between movements. no matter how much he gets lost in the haze of lust, he’s still the sweet nanami kento you know.

his fingers dig into the meat of your ass, kneading and squeezing the soft flesh as he drives into you again and again. you’re overwhelmed by the stretch, the pure pleasure of his dick molding your insides to fit him and him only.

your toes curl as you struggle to lay steady on your tummy. “o-oh, mmh. right there,” your eyes roll back and your body jolts back and forth in sync with his thrusts. your lower tummy and cunt are tingling, needing more stimulation to build up to that mind-blowing orgasm.

“faster, deeper, please— please,” you mewl. you can’t bring yourself to care about the possibility of others hearing you outside the sheriff’s office. let the town folk gossip and whatnot. at the end of the day, you’re the one winning by having a husband like kento.

your lover leans over your arched back, his sweat-slicked chest pressing against your shoulder blades. he kisses the back of your head with a smile playing on his lips, “as you wish.”

one hand slides up your back, tangling in your hair. kento fists it tightly, using it as a handle to yank your head back, forcing your spine into a deeper arch. the new angle lets him drive even deeper into you, his hard cock kissing your cervix with each rough thrust.

kento’s dick plunges inside your cunt with wild abandon and you’re loving it. your sweet noises intensify and you can’t think about anything else but the feeling of you being split open. the tip of his dick touches the deepest parts of you and it’s painful—but the pain is nothing compared to the mind numbing pleasure.

“there we go. gotta get all up in there, aye?” kento pants harshly against the side of your neck, his hot breath fanning over your skin. his other hand reaches around to flick your clit before coming to rest on your lower tummy, “that way i can ensure y’re g’nna end up with a swollen belly.”

the implications of his words make you shudder. you know kento’s always been a family man. always dropping hints of wanting to start a family with you when you’re ready. and he never misses the opportunity to pump you full of his potent cum when you do try for a baby.

“k-ken,” you bite your lip at the thought of it. of succeeding to conceive this time. it’d be because of this lewd moment, in his office out all places. it’s so naughty to the point it’s driving you insane.

kento notices how your body is reacting to his dirty talk and grins to himself. he isn’t clueless—he can feel the way you clench around his dick, as if you’re trying to suck every drop of cum out of his sack. “hm? yer cunt is agreein’ with me, it seems,” he hums.

your lover bites your shoulder as his hips pound against your rear with a strength that’s nearly inhuman. your insides are being turned to mush while you’re drowning in ecstasy.

“yer g’nna make such a good momma,” kento continues to whisper those words in your ears, simply to drive you to the brink of an orgasm. he kisses your earlobe lovingly as his deep voice carries on, “can’t wait to see this beautiful body change to carry my child.”

the dirty talk sure is working. he can feel you tensing, could hear the breathy moans and whimpers spilling from your lips as he brings you closer to the edge. he knows your body—knows every inch of you—and he uses that knowledge drive you utterly mad.

“ah, fuck, ken! honey,” you whine. the contrast between his honeyed voice and rough thrusts that send electric jolts down your spine, is maddening. you can feel the knot tightening in your belly, threatening to snap any second now.

kento’s eyes darken and he grunts in response. the hand that’s been playing with your clit moves to hold onto your hip again for leverage, pounding into you with a passion you’ve never felt before.

“i know,” he mutters gruffly as he watches his cock disappear into your greedy cunt, “i know, sugar. just give yerself t’ me. let go.”

that’s all it really takes. kento feels your body go rigid beneath him as your climax crashes over you like a tidal wave. your walls clamp down around his pistoning cock like a silken vise, fluttering and rippling as you cum hard.

you cry out due to your mind-blowing orgasm. your thighs tremble and your body convulses uncontrollably on the desk—eyes closed as your senses focus on the remaining pleasure.

“fuck, yes— yes yes yes,” kento grunts as your slick fluids gush out around his dick. he can feel the warm, slick heat of your juices splash against his balls and drip down his thighs. the sight of you coming undone on his dick, the sound of your screams of ecstasy filling the room, pushes him over the edge as well.

kento slams into you one final time, burying himself to the hilt in your spasming, sensitive pussy. his cock jerks and throbs inside you as thick ropes of cum erupt from the tip. he can feel each spurt of his load, can count the pulsing jets of cum as he pump you full with it.

“take it—let me breed ya real good,” he pants while grinding his hips against your ass to properly empty himself inside your pulsing cunt. kento shudders as his hips lazily move in small, shallow circles, “get it all nice ‘n deep in there.. yeaaah, good job.”

his grip on your hair tightens for a moment, forcing you to arch you back even more as he slowly rides his orgasm out, his release seeming to go on and on. he senses his hot seed sloshing inside you, can already picture it flooding your fertile womb and taking root.

finally, with a shuddering groan, kento collapses against your back. his large frame easily blankets your smaller one. he notices your body trembling beneath him, could hear the soft whimpers and mewls spilling from you lips as you came down from your high as well. despite that, he stays buried inside you, not wanting to lose a single drop of his cum.

“yer so perfect,” your lover whispers and nuzzles his face into your neck, “the most perfect woman a man could ask for.” that gentleman side of his now makes a full return, as it always does after a particularly rough session. kento takes aftercare quite seriously.

his hands rub your sides and massage your body in places he knows will be sore later on. his lips leave trails of kisses from your neck to your shoulders and back—a testament of his love for you.

after making sure you’re okay, kento eases himself up off your back, his softening dick slipping from your tender folds with a squelch. he looks down to see your combined fluids leaking out from your slit, dripping down your thighs to pool on the rough wood beneath you.

the sight makes him bite back a groan. if it wasn’t for the ounce of self control left inside of him, he’d go for a second round. but he can’t. his coworkers will be back soon anyway.

kento helps you up as well, his hands gripping your waist to steady you as your shaky legs find their footing. “mmh, my lovely wife,” he smiles at you as he cups your face into his hands. he presses a gentle kiss to your forehead and pulls you into a hug, “thank you so much. don’t think i would’ve even survived today if ye didn’t show up.”

you giggle at kento’s dramatics and hug him back tightly, body slowly recovering from the intense passion you two just shared. the fog on the nearby window, the steamy tension and the scent of sex still lingers in the air—something you have to take care of soon before others come to visit.

but for now, you’ll just enjoy the warmth of your husband’s embrace. that’s all what really matters.

[toothfa-1-ry]

JUST FATHER ACTIVITIES

Imagine in an alternative universe, somehow you and your baby daddy Thanos escape the games (don't ask me how) and you guys pay off all of your debts and have financial stability

Basically father! Thanos headcannons!!

First of all, thanos is a girl dad. Idc i do not make the rules you CANNOT and WILL not change my mind otherwise

After the games, irrelevant of whether you were also in the games with him or not, he'd quit his drug addiction and go to a rehabilitation for the sake of your daughter

You couldn't change him, but atleast your daughter could

Thanos would go with you to the gynae every single time without fail, he'd brag about it (very loudly) though

"Look" thanos points at all the patients in the waiting room in the gynae clinic "how many women do you see with their husband's accompanying them?"

"Thanos shut the fuck up" you'd hiss at him, while hitting his arm. The women around you guys giving you the stink eye which he proudly gave back

"I'm just saying the truth- is it a sin to speak the truth?!?"

Will brag to the doctor and nurses too

"Say doctor miss" he leans back at his chair with his head held up high "how many husband's accompany their wives to the clinic?"

"Oh well that depends, not all the time-"

*insert thanos's loud proud laugh, his head thrown back while you grimace*

"I'm the fucking best aren't i"

*insert your slow head shaking* "Yes babe, you sure are"

He was always protective of you, but it grew even stronger after he found out you were pregnant

The type to protect you from a pigeon if he felt like it looked at you for a second too long

"Wtf are you looking at you cross eyed motherfucker"

*glares at the pigeon from a distance"

The type of person to hyper fixated on whatever small movement you do cause he's doesn't want you to get hurt

"Oh be careful be careful" *Holds your hand* "hold my hand and dont let go, use your other hand on the railing"

Says that he doesn't need to read or watch those "pregnancy classes" or "how to take care of a new born" classes cause he's already fully prepared

You later find out that he signed up for one of those seminars online and attends those lectures at night while your asleep

Bro probably has even stronger baby fever than you do

Buys things for the baby and you

"Thanos.. what's that in your hand"

"It's a costume, a ironman costume"

"For?"

"Our daughter 🙄 duh y/n"

"Babe, she still isn't even born"

"I got you a costume too" *takes out a black widow costume that seemed a little too racey* "you should try wearing it now just incase-"

*he got hit by you for trying to get you pregnant again while you were pregnant*

Let's say nam gyu wasn't the slimy bitch he was in the series

Best GODFATHER ever. GOATED godfather, S TIER godfather

I already mentioned this but I'm sure Thanos and nam gyu would come up with names for the baby

I'm talking wack ass names that they genuinely find cool

The list of names would include marvel character names (cause cmon, the child's dad is literally called thanos) or rapper names

"Add cardi b on the list too"

"You know that's not her real name right?" Nam gyu asked, pausing before quickly scribbling the name down

"WHAT?!? Since when??"

I'm sure nam gyu even accompanied the two of you to the clinic atleast once or twice

He was banned from coming though cause him and Thanos together made too much noise

Whenever you and thanos are in public, it doesn't matter if your in a cafe or restaurant or if your just out for a walk

If he meets anyone and i mean anyone

He'd tell them that he was gonna be a dad

"Hey do you know that I'm gonna be a dad?" *points at you* "and that's the mom- she's carrying my baby"

"Sir I'm the waiter"

On the softer note though

Kisses you on the lips first and then kisses your stomach second before you both go to sleep

If you groan or even if he senses a inch of your discomfort he'll automatically try to figure out a way to make you feel in ease

Tries his best not to annoy you

(It doesn't always work cause being annoying is his entire personality trait but it's the effort that counts!!)

Ties your shoelaces for you cause you can't bend over

Traces shapes over your stomach while you both lie next to eachother

Reminds you how pretty you are everyday

"If I'm the legend Thanos, then I guess you would be a myth, cause only a face like yours could make a man like me want to quit"

"Your so corny"

But you wouldn't have it any other way

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 43: Lies

Summary: Things are getting better...or are they?

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 5,029 words

Warnings: Alpha/beta/omega dynamics, a/b/o, omegaverse, angst, kissing, 'mega being a badass, angst, emotions, fluff, angst

A/N: Sorry not sorry

“Kyle.” 

The name is whispered in the silence, floating through the air around you. There’s no response from the body wrapped around you aside from a quiet snore. You drive your elbow back into his chest, whispering his name once more. 

“Kyle.” 

He lets out a snore, jolting out of sleep suddenly as your elbow digs into his pectoral muscle. “Hm, what?” He slurs, still half asleep. 

“Kyle, I didn’t have a nightmare last night.” You say quietly, kicking the volume up to just above a whisper. 

“Mmm that’s good.” He murmurs sleepily, scooting closer to you to press his face against your shoulder blade. “Really good.” 

“No Phil this time either.” You say, excitement starting to bubble in your stomach. No nightmares, no sign of Phil haunting your mind in sleep or awake. 

Maybe Dr. Keller is right and you really are healing. 

It’s been weeks since he died, since you drove that knife into his neck. The memories of warm blood spurting onto your skin, the life leaving his eyes still has your stomach twisting with nausea, but the nightmares of his haunting presence have ceased for now. 

“It’s been a year today,” You say into the silence. “Since I joined the pack.” 

“Mhm.” Kyle hums against your shoulder, pressing his face closer against your skin. 

“So much has happened in such a short amount of time.” You muse. 

Kyle’s arm moves from around your waist, lifting up towards your face. His hand covers your mouth, cutting off the words that had been on the tip of your tongue. “‘S too early.” He murmurs. “Go back to sleep.” 

His lips brushing your skin with every word has butterflies fluttering in your stomach. It feels much like it did in the early stages of your integration into their pack, back when you had small crushes on each of them, when the relationships were new and exciting. They feel new now, the dynamics changing between all of you since that day you sat them down and set the record straight. 

“Sit down and listen.” You try to stop your voice from shaking as you stand before the four giant forms that make up the rest of your pack. Dr. Keller has gone out for the day, leaving just the five of you alone. 

You may or may not have asked her to do so.

The four of them look surprised by your authoritative tone, shocked even. They stand there dumbly, staring at you with wide eyes. 

You let out a quiet sigh. This is going to be harder than you thought it was going to be. 

“I said, sit down and listen.” You repeat, the four of them slowly sinking down onto their seats. Their eyes are still on you, still filled with surprise at this sudden change. 

You stare at them, John seated in the chair across from you, the most taken aback at this sudden shift in your attitude. Johnny and Kyle are seated to your right, both of them staring at you in surprise. Simon looks the least surprised by this outburst, yet his eyes are still softer than the hardened gaze he’s been giving you for weeks. 

You clear your throat, straightening your back as you stand before them. “We have some things to discuss as a pack.” You shift on your feet, trying to shove down those nervous butterflies in your stomach. 

This could go south fast if they wanted it to. 

“Some things about where we stand,” You continue. “How things are going to look moving forward.” You fall silent for a moment, looking at each of them. The surprise has faded, all of them focused and dialed in on you. 

You can’t help but wonder if this is how they looked during debriefs, so laser focused and in tune with what’s happening. You can’t help but wonder if they’re shifting into that mindset, if they’re viewing this as a mission and not as what it should be. 

You shove those thoughts back into the recesses of your mind, steeling yourself again for the coming storm you’re about to brew.

“I don’t want things to go back to the way they were.” You say, your hands tugging at your shirt nervously. “They didn’t work that way. Well, they might have worked for you, but they didn’t for me and that’s why we’re here today. To have a conversation we should have had at the start.” 

They stay sitting there, all of them scarily still as you speak. You’re not even sure they’re still breathing. You may as well be talking to a bunch of statues. You stare at John until he blinks just to be sure. 

“I don’t want things to go back to the way they were because it wasn’t fair for me. You were all kind and welcoming and you treated me well, but you weren’t supportive of me and what I needed.” You swallow the nervous lump in your throat. “I know you were trying, but it wasn’t right and I was too afraid to say anything. Omegas are supposed to be the glue that holds packs together.” You quote the book, the one you tried to keep secret from them until Simon found it. “We’re the ones doing the heavy lifting, the ones clinging to the threads of bonds for dear life. Even if I’m not involved in your bonds with each other, I’m still holding those strings. I fall, you all fall.” You clear your throat. “I think we’ve seen enough proof of that over the past couple months.” 

None of them move as you speak. You hope they already knew what you were addressing, that they already understood. You hope this isn’t news to them, that you’re not walking them through some mind-boggling discovery. 

“I’m the one holding this pack together, so I should be treated fairly.” You take a breath to steady yourself. “I know you tried before, but you weren’t...doing it right. You weren’t allowing me into the places I should have been, into the roles I’m supposed to play.” You gulp, your eyes flicking over the four of them. “I’m in charge.” 

Finally one of them moves, John shifting slightly in his seat. It’s a direct challenge to his status, to his role in the pack, and it’s coming from an omega. In hindsight, you could have worded it better, but you were too worried about losing the nerve that’s fueled you up to this moment. 

“I’m the one in charge of how these bonds develop, how they work, how they flow together, so I need to be in charge of things that might affect those bonds.” Your eyes are glued to John’s, watching his face. “I need a voice in this pack. I may not be able to point us in a direction, but I need to know what that direction is so I can understand how that direction might affect us as a pack, and if it's worth it.” 

You take a deep breath, trying to calm the emotions starting to rise in you. Nerves still twist in your stomach as you continue, their lack of reactions only fueling the nerves. What are they thinking? How are they going to react? None of them have interrupted you so far, berating you for making such demands or shutting you down before you can get much further. 

They really are sitting and listening to you. 

“I know the situation made that impossible. I know it wasn’t any of your faults for the way things had to be because of the military and your jobs and all of the secrecy, but it can’t be like that anymore. I know you kept me separated and in the dark for my own safety, but...” You hold your arms out. “Look at where it got us anyway. No matter what happens next, I can’t be in the dark anymore. It’s...it’s killing me. It almost did kill me.” 

They all shift at your words. Voicing that reality has struck a chord deep within them. They’ve all thought it, but none of them have acknowledged it outright. None of them quite understand the gravity of what happened at the level you do...except perhaps Simon. He was knee deep in it with you. He’s the reason it didn’t kill you. 

“No matter what happens next, no matter what unfolds, I can’t be an outsider anymore.” Your voice has softened, your tone lowering as the nerves begin to settle. You’re losing steam, your overworked adrenal glands wearing out faster than you might have planned. “I just...I don’t want this pack to fall apart, and...I can’t do it alone. I’m not supposed to be alone. None of us are.” You shift on your feet. “So kiss and make up already because you’re driving me crazy.” 

They all let out quiet chuckles at your words, the nerves settling even more at their reactions. No screaming, no berating, no opposition. Just sitting and listening like you said. 

John leans forward in his chair, resting his elbows on his knees. “I think we can all agree with what you said. It wasn’t fair, the way we treated you. Sure the situation was complicated, but things could have been done differently. We could have let you in more than we did.” 

“We cut ye off too much.” Johnny says. 

“You’re right.” John continues, taking you by surprise. “Alphas and omegas are supposed to work together. We all have our roles we play, and alpha and omega should be equal.” He glances around at the rest of the pack. “We shouldn’t go back to the way things were. They won’t ever be like that again, and that’s a good thing. We’ve all learned from our mistakes, mistakes that shouldn’t have happened in the first place. We’ll never truly be able to make up for them, but we can work to fix what can be repaired.” 

You stare at him for a long moment, realizing he’s waiting for your approval. It makes you feel good, proud. Your omega preens happily, some of the weight being removed from your shoulders. They’re willing to work with you, willing to bend the knee and allow you to lead them in this. 

You nod. “Good. I’m glad we could come to this agreement.” 

You feel like passing out as the tension and adrenaline starts to wear off. You plop down on the couch next to Simon, letting out a long breath.

“You okay?” Kyle asks. 

You huff out a laugh. “That was scary.” 

Kyle’s hand droops from your mouth, sliding down to rest under your chin. Butterflies still flutter in your stomach as his warm breath fans across your skin. It feels so close and intimate now after weeks of separation and distance between everyone. You know they’ve taken your words to heart, rebuilding those bonds between them. You can feel it, the strings starting to strengthen, no longer fraying and clinging on by a hair. You’re not holding the weight of the world anymore, clinging to those rapidly fraying bonds in desperation. 

The load has been eased off of your shoulders, your alpha starting to carry some of that weight for you. 

Your alpha. 

It feels almost foreign calling him that again. He hasn’t felt like your alpha in so long the bond almost feels like it’s rebuilding itself from the ground up. A new bond, a changed one from the weak one that held the two of you together before. Your fingers lift to brush over your mark. It throbs, but not in pain this time. Your fingers brush Kyle’s hand where it’s tucked under your chin as you lower them from your mark. You wrap your fingers around his hand, pulling his arm so it’s wrapped around you instead. 

“Kyle?” You whisper, but you get nothing more than a snore in return. 

***

“You seem happier.” Dr. Keller says, sitting in the chair next to you. 

“I feel happier.” You say, a small smile tugging at your lips. “You were right, about having that conversation. It’s helped a lot.” 

“I knew it would. They were trying, they just needed a bit of direction.” She takes a sip of her tea. 

“Military men.” You roll your eyes. “Can’t do anything without being told what to do first.” 

“I think that’s just all men.” Dr. Keller says. 

You laugh, a genuine laugh. “Sometimes I wish I wasn’t attracted to them.” 

“I don’t blame you.” She huffs out a laugh. “That is one small mercy I was granted in this life.” 

You smile softly. “I’m happy for you.” You glance at her. “You deserve it, after everything you’ve done for me, for us.” 

“Just doing my job.” She shrugs. 

“I think you’ve gone above and beyond your job lately.” You say. “Thank you, for getting me through this.” 

“Of course. I wasn’t going to leave you floundering.” 

“Some might have.” You say, and it’s the truth. A different omega specialist might have run as soon as things went south. Dr. Keller went halfway across the globe and back to help you in a vulnerable time. She’s put in more work in the last few weeks to try and keep you alive, to try and keep your pack in one piece than she should have ever had to. 

“Then they shouldn’t be omega specialists.” She says. “Lines can get blurry in this profession, but I’d do it all over again in a heartbeat if it means even one omega can have a chance at a good life.” 

“Consider that a success, then.” You say with a small smile. 

“Good. I’m glad you feel that way.” She squeezes your hand. “You know I’ll always be here for you, no matter what.” 

“I know. Maybe someday soon you’ll even be family.” You give her a knowing grin. 

“Well, I wouldn’t put too much stock in that right away.” She says, shifting in her seat. 

“You really like her.” 

“It’s hard not to.” She says. “The Garrick family might be the closest we have to angels on earth.” 

“They are just so...perfect.” You agree. 

“Some people just have it all, don’t they?” 

“Must be nice.” You muse. “I think we’re both pretty lucky though, snagging ourselves one of those angels.” 

Dr. Keller smiles at you. “I can hardly disagree.” 

It feels good to see them finally getting over themselves. Sitting closer, lingering touches, even holding hands. You did that. You forced them together to work out those barriers they put between themselves. The pack is healing because of you. 

It makes your omega preen in happiness. She’s finally settled, finally tucked back in her cage with the door shut tight. She’s content with the strong bonds beginning to reform. There’s no need for her now that the threat of danger has passed, now that your pack is beginning to come together again. That safety and security of the bonds has shoved her back into her place where she rests contently. 

Yet, despite that you still feel a bit on edge, still waiting for that shoe to drop. Sure things are getting better, but what about you? Where do you stand with all of them? It still feels like they're tiptoeing around you, like they don’t know where to start, where to jump back in. Where does that boundary lie now that things are beginning to improve? 

You’re not even quite so sure yourself. You can’t just jump back into where things were when they fell apart.  It doesn’t feel right. You’re not ready for that yet, but you can’t help the desires starting to burn in you again as those bonds repair themselves. You got far the first time, but yet no one is willing to take it that far right away. 

Not even you. 

You have to lay that barrier, mark down in the sand where that line is between where you were and where you are. How far would they push it if you left it up to them? They might never push it further with how they’re tiptoeing around you. You might get stuck in this realm of the unknown if you leave it up to them. But, how will they react if you do push it? Will they push back? Are they ready for things to move forward? Are they ready for the relationships to develop like that once more? 

A rock and a hard place. 

Maybe you should push it. Maybe you should be the one to test the boundaries this time. They’ve had their chance, and they’re not going to push it any further. You’re tired of this dance, so maybe you should take the plunge for them. 

Omegas always have to do the hard work. 

“Are you drawing me again?” 

The soft scratch of pencil on paper that has filled the quiet of the house pauses. 

“I cannae help it.” Johnny murmurs, shifting in his seat. “Yer the perfect model, kitten.” 

“Why, cause I can sit and dissociate for hours at a time?” You tease. 

“Cause yer so beautiful.” He counters. 

Your face warms at his words, not expecting such a comeback. You quickly tuck yourself further under the blanket, hiding part of your face bashfully. “Am not.” 

“Are too.” He argues playfully. “The most beautiful woman I ever laid eyes on.” 

Woman, not omega. You half expected him to designate you to your status, but instead he’s surprised you once more. Your face warms at his words, yet you can’t help that tickle in the back of your mind. This is coming from somewhere.

You side-eye him, giving him a suspicious look. “What do you want?”

“What?” He asks in mock surprise. 

“You’re buttering me up for something.” You say, turning to face him. 

“I dinnae what ye mean.” He shrugs. “Can’t I just compliment my beautiful omega?” 

You give him a look. 

“I do mean it.” He says, setting his notebook on the table before joining you on the couch. He tugs you into his chest, making you nearly fall against him at the sudden movement. “Yer stunning, kitten.” 

“Alright, alright, fine.” You lean your head on his shoulder. “I get it.” 

You stare up at him, tracing his jawline with your eyes. “Now what is it you want?” 

“Nothing.” He says, holding his hands up. “Swear it.” 

You hum, lifting your head up so you can stare at him. He stares back with those bright blue eyes, soft with emotion as he studies your face. You feel like you’re staring at him for the first time again, studying his features. Your finger traces the scar on his chin, the short hairs of his stubble tickling your fingers. He’s shaved recently, trimming down the sides of his hair too. They’ve all cleaned up a bit, trimming scraggly beards and long hair. At least longer than you’ve ever seen. 

You take it as a sign of the improvement in your pack. You’re no longer drowning in the depths of fraying bonds. There’s life in the pack once more. You’re back in the pack once more. 

You continue to stare at Johnny, getting lost in those sea blue eyes. Your heart starts to beat faster, pounding away in your chest. You’re worried he might be able to hear it from how hard it’s beating. There’s a slight tremble to your fingers as you slide them from his chin up to his lips. 

You really want to kiss him. 

He presses a soft kiss to your fingertips, the soft touch lingering as your hand drops away. The air in the cottage is electric, the heat of the fire suddenly unnecessary as warmth blooms under your skin. 

Take the plunge. 

You can’t stop yourself as you start to move, leaning in closer to him. 

He doesn’t move, staying freakishly still as you lean closer and closer. You press your forehead against his, your eyes fluttering closed as you linger there for a moment. His lips have parted, his warm breath fanning against your own lips. They suddenly feel chapped, your tongue darting out to wet them. A soft sound leaves his lips at the action, a long, warm breath fanning across your face. 

You close the gap between the two of you, pressing a soft, hesitant kiss to his lips. It’s short and sweet, nothing more than a test of the waters. He doesn’t pull away, he doesn’t push you off of him. Instead his arm tightens around you, his other hand lifting to cup your cheek. You take it as a good sign, kissing him again. 

He holds you tightly against him as you kiss him harder this time. Your hand slides from his jaw to the side of his neck. You can feel his pulse thrumming beneath your fingers, beating almost as fast as yours. It’s a relief more than anything, to feel him as excited about this as you are. You doubt he’d be kissing you back if he wasn’t, but it’s still a nice sign that you haven’t pushed the boundaries too far. 

He hums contently against your lips, a smile tugging at his. 

“You’re going to be insufferable after this aren’t you?” You murmur as you pull back. 

“I’ll try not to be.” He murmurs back. 

“Something tells me I shouldn’t believe you.” You lean in for another soft kiss. 

He hums against your lips, unable to stop his grin. “First again.” 

“There we go.” You say, pulling back. 

“I promise.” He says, letting you go. 

“I still don’t believe you.” You say. 

“Probably shouldn’t.” He says, poking your nose softly. “Now go back tae the way ye were so I can finish my drawing.” 

You roll your eyes but acquiesce, adjusting your position on the couch once more. 

You know it’s coming before it happens. 

You could feel it, the shift in the air, the change in the atmosphere of the house. Something happened, something is going to happen. There’s something lingering on the precipice and it’s affecting the entire pack. They’re all on edge, all tiptoeing again. You hate it, but you can’t figure out what it is to fix it. It makes you almost feel sick with worry, your exhausted adrenal glands kicking back into high gear. You’re getting stressed and you don’t like it. 

You don’t know what it is, until you catch part of a conversation you weren’t supposed to hear. 

It’s midday and you’ve just woken from your daily nap. The sun is out for the first time in a week, though you know it’s still chilly outside. It’s shining in through the window, through the curtains you forgot to close. It’s a peaceful afternoon, or at least you thought it was. 

That’s when you hear the footsteps coming down the steps. Heavy, rushed thudding of boots. Two pairs of feet, you think, judging by the sound. Hushed voices murmur through the wall in a muffled conversation that has obviously begun upstairs. It sounds intense, something being debated or argued. 

Curiosity and that omega need to know what’s causing such a disagreement has you rising from your prone position. You kick the covers back quietly, slipping off of the mattress. You move slowly, tiptoeing across the floor until you reach the door. You’re quiet as you lean against it, pressing your ear to the wood. 

You don’t like what you’re hearing. 

It’s John and Simon, speaking hurriedly and angrily about something, something you don’t like the sounds of. You catch words here and there as they move across the living room towards the front door. A nervous twisting begins in your stomach as you stand there and listen to them, picking up a few words here and there from their conversation. Johnny and Kyle have left the house, and it’s likely they think you’re still sleeping, otherwise they wouldn’t be discussing this so out in the open. 

The conversation has stopped abruptly as the front door opens, boots storming out of the house before the door closes rather harshly. You stand there, holding your breath for a moment before footsteps turn, approaching your door. Your eyes widen as you push away from the wood, nearly leaping across the floor to dive onto the bed. You curl up in a ball, tugging the blanket over yourself seconds before the door opens. 

You have half a mind to feign sleep as footsteps approach the bed, but you know it will be useless. The stench of your nervous energy has permeated the room, the proof of your stressed state hanging heavily in the air. Emotions twist in your chest like the roiling of a stormy sea. He’d be able to tell in that way he always does, even if you could try to mask your scent. 

The side of the bed sinks as John sits down with a sigh. You lay there still for a moment before slowly rolling over onto your back. His shoulders are tense and tight, his hands closed into fists as he leans his elbows on his knees. It’s not hard to tell that the conversation ended on a negative note. Even if you hadn’t gotten up to listen in, you would have known by the slamming of the door and the tension in his body. 

He knows you listened in, but he doesn’t say anything as he sits there. Slowly you move, pushing yourself up to sit. You pull your knees into your chest, staring at the side of his face. He’s waiting for you to make the first move, to admit that you know what that argument between alphas was about. 

“You’re leaving.” Tears prick behind your eyes as you voice the summation of what you overheard from the conversation. Putting it into words has those roiling emotions stirring, rising in your chest until they threaten to choke you. 

He lets out another sigh, his gaze on the floor. “I have to do this.” 

So he really is leaving. The finality in his tone tells you there’s no convincing him otherwise. Those words tell you no matter how hard you fight, there’s no changing his mind. He’s going to do this no matter what. He’s going to leave no matter what you say, no matter how hard you try to stop him. He has to do this. He has to leave. Or, at least he thinks he does. 

Things were going so well. Things were finally starting to heal and now he’s threatening to undo them all once again. 

You can never have anything nice, can you?

“But you don’t.” You say, your voice wavering. Your heart is pounding in your chest, the threat of confrontation making your insides turn into a mushy soup. You have to try. You know it’s useless, but you have to try. At least you can tell yourself you did your best, you tried your hardest to convince him when he is gone. 

“I don’t have a choice.” He says, pushing himself upright. His eyes are hard and focused as he turns to stare at you. “I have to be sure.” 

“What about the rest of us? What about me?” You argue. “You can just up and leave when things are finally starting to heal and improve?”

“For this, yes.” He reaches for you but you flinch back. You’ll regret it later, but you don’t care about that right now. Right now, you’re too angry. 

“The job always comes first, right?” You say, staring at his hand where it lands on the bed. You sound broken and defeated. 

“This is more complex than that.” He shakes his head. 

“Is it?” You snap, holding his gaze. “Is it different? You said things would change.” 

“They will.” He tries to reassure you. “But this is something I have to do.” 

You swallow the lump in your throat, forcing down the words you want to scream at him. You want to hit him, shove him out of the room and lock the door. He promised you things would change, but then again, he’s broken promises before. He’s really willing to just up and leave in such a delicate time when bonds are being rebuilt within the pack. How little he thinks of you, of the rest of your pack. They won’t stop him either. He probably had to stop them from wanting to go too, to be there to assist him in this errand. 

Nothing has changed. It was all just empty promises from your pack. They can’t help what they are. They’ll never be able to stop doing what it is they were trained to do. Everything was a lie to placate you into healing, to stop you from severing the ties that hold you all together. 

You thought things were going to get better. 

How stupid you were. 

There’s a sour taste in your mouth as you sit there, staring hard at him. Of course he’d do this. Of course he’d break his promises. Of course he’d leave in a moment’s notice. You’re shocked he’s even told you. You’re shocked you got any warning at all. You wouldn’t put it past him to just up and leave, just like that without any warning. 

“You’re really leaving.” You whimper, your voice shaking with the emotions and the adrenaline pumping through your body. 

You don’t move your hand this time as he reaches for it, his fingers brushing over yours before curling around them. It should feel nice and grounding and reassuring, but instead it feels hollow and empty. You want to hate him, you want to get angry and scream at him, but you can’t. You can’t bring yourself to do that. Not after everything. You’re just so tired, so exhausted from fighting for this pack, for your place in it, for things to work. 

All that fighting and it was for nothing. 

“I have to.” He says, squeezing your hand. He stares down at your hands for a moment before looking back up at him. “Do you want me to come back?” 

You sit there staring at him, anger and resentment swirling inside of you like a violent storm. 

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[okwonyo]

日语 ✴︎ I CAN MELT AN IGLOO, CAUSE I’M SO DANG HOT.

in which. 𝖾𝗇𝗁𝗒𝗉𝖾𝗇 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗌𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝗈𝗈𝗅.

（𝖬𝖠𝖦𝖠𝖹𝒾𝖭𝖤） ｡ boyf!enha & fem!rea 8OO fluff established relationship ─── kissing skinship

じや ：#divaz told me to post this first ♡ don’t forget to vote for the boys !

reblogs ୨୧ feedbacks please ／ help

heeseung likes to dive his eyes into yours. at any given moment or circumstances, he loves to hold eye contact with you. his gaze flicker into yours as soon as you start to talk, his entire focus on you. which makes a garden of butterflies appear in the pit of your stomach— “stop looking at me like that,” you say in the middle of your sentence and he laughs.

heeseung, as implied before, loves to watch you. and it might seem crazy, but even when you kiss— he open his eyes slightly. to see your flushed face up close like, your eyes close as you melt into his mouth like that. it is not an habit you were aware before your drunk friend told you about it.

( + )

jongseong isn’t the type to use too many words. he has this habit of calling you over with signs, as if you were a cat. most of the time, he sits down and immediately taps his lap to indicate to you to come sit there. he whispers a sweet praise in your ear, wrapping his strong arms around your waist.

jongseong knows a few tricks to make you look at him again. his favorite one is by lifting your chin with his index finger and lean in, “look at me,” he orders gently and you do as you were told. he loves to watch your cheeks get more and more red while he holds your attention this way and talks to you. the grin on his face tells you that much.

jaeyun doesn’t even seem to realize when he is doing it. it comes naturally to him, he can’t control himself— and honestly, even if could stop himself, he would rather check out his beautiful girlfriend all the time. dragging his eyes all over your figure makes him feel things, he can’t help but bite down a smirk everytime. barely aware of the effect it has on you.

jaeyun’s obsession with jeans started with you. he remembers, the first that he saw you in those and swa you turning around— his head did too. the growing need to slide his hands in your back pocket grew fast and astronomically big that time, and he can’t just not do it now. he pus his huge hand in your backpocket while you walk, when he wants to turn you around, whenever he feels like it.

sunghoon doesn’t hide the fact that he has muscles, especially not to you. a day won’t go by without him flexing ‘unknowingly’ while shooting you a quick glance. the most attractive thing about his muscular body, is that he an manhandle you whenever and wherever he wants. “bedtime,” he calls before hoping your body over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

sunghoon often leans against tall surfaces. sometimes with his arms crossed under his chest, sometimes with his forearm supporting him as he towers over you. a silly pick up lines floats away from his mouth, his proud grin being the thing that makes your heart swell at the end.

sunoo leans his head back a lot, showing off his perfect neck. what drives you into a spiral is when he groans softly— the sound coming out of his mouth as not egal and the way his adam apple pops makes your knees incredibly week. your eyes are unable to focus on anything else.

sunoo when you are standing on his path, holds your waist gently before moving you to the side. “sorry, baby,” he tells you as he does so, a cute smile drawn on his face. he is already far before you can realize what happened.

jungwon is really expressive, especially in the brows area. there isn’t anything in particular with what he does with them— it is all just the way he moves them, just something about the little raises that says he likes something, they make you crazy.

jungwon rarely ever gets mad. if you were to be honest, you never thought it was possible to see that side of him until he got angry over work. and listen, you are obviously sad to see him frustrated. but, dear god, the way his jaw tightens and his angry smile…

riki is obviously much taller than you are. he has to look down to see you, and sometimes your words don’t reach him properly. therefore, he leans in to listen to you properly, “hm?” he hums with his breath on your neck.

riki, given his height, has a better view than anyone for everything. he doesn’t need to get on his tiptoes in a crowed event to see what he wants to see— you, however… has the great boyfriend that he is, he lifts you up as soon as he sees you struggling to see anything. with his hands holding your thighs close to his waist, he asks, “is it good now, princess?”

taglist is open. & @sgz-net

[motorsportbarbie13]

A Package Deal - epilogue 1

In which Lando has doubts about his worth.

warnings: angst and talk of parental death. fluff at the end tho. pairing: lando norris x singlemom!reader word count...idk like 2k? maybe less!

A Package Deal - A Package Deal - Part 2 - A Package Deal - Part 3 - A Package Deal - Part 4 - A Package Deal - Part 5 - A Package Deal - Part 6

"Today was...a lot." You sigh, collapsing into bed beside an already tucked in Lando.

"Mhm." Lando's reply is quick, a sound devoid of any emotion that has your head swinging over to where he sits beside you.

You, Lando, Stella and the rest of your family had spent most of the day moving things from your old house into the house you and Lando had purchased a few weeks after returning home from Switzerland. Both of you had wanted a fresh start as a new family and this home was supposed to be your new beginning. Something about his demeanor right now though had alarm bells ringing in your head.

"Everything okay my love?"

At this point in your relationship, you and Lando could pretty much communicate solely with an exchanged look across a room and a change in posture. You could tell when something was off with your fiance.

"Are we sure Stella should be calling me dad?"

If you had been asked to predict what was bothering Lando before he had opened his mouth, the question he asked you as he sat avoiding your stunned look was simply not even in the top 1,000 things that could have been on that list.

"I'm sorry, come again?" You try so hard to keep your anxiety and anger in check at the absolute audacity of his question, hoping that he has a good reason to be questioning his role in Stella's life.

The same heavy weight of anxiety sits on Lando's shoulders, unable to look you in the eyes. "I mean, I'm not." He says softly. "She has a dad. He died but I can't replace him. I shouldn't want to replace him."

You stare at Lando for several moments trying to come up with a response. This was certainly not the conversation you had anticpated having tonight, not after spending nearly 12 hours moving house but, here you were. Lando and you hadn't talked much about your ex. There wasn't much to say. You had dated when you were teenagers, got pregnant by accident as teenagers sometimes do, and by the time you had Stella you had gone your separate ways. He had been a good dad to Stella in those eight months before the accident, of course, but he had never connected with Stella the way you had when she was a baby.

Gingerly moving over so you're shoulder to shoulder with Lando, you lay your head on his shoulder. Relief that washes over you when he drops his head onto yours and takes your hand in his, playing with your engagement ring while he sits quietly.

Lando wasn't having second thoughts about you and Stella, about his commitment to either of you. Absolutely not. He was insecure and worried about stepping into a role that he thought he didn't deserve.

"Lan, Stella was eight months old when Chris died. You're not trying to replace him but you're the only dad she's ever known, baby. Where is all this coming from?"

If you know Lando like you think you do, you're pretty sure somethings got his anxiety up and he's worried himself into a spiral where he's convinced himself that he's not good enough or worthy of the family that he's got now.

And when he opens his mouth to explain, your suspecisons are confirmed.

"When I was packing up Stella's room today, I came across a few pictures of Chris holding Stella in the hospital." A bright shock of pain slices through Lando's chest at the thought of that picture and the feelings of jealousy that had come with seeing it for the first time. He couldn't believe how jealous he had felt knowing that he had missed that with Stella. With you. How he'd missed seeing you pregnant for the first time, how even when you started a family together like you'd talked about countless amounts of times, he'd never truly be the first one to have a family with you. He had spent the rest of the day thinking about how maybe he didn't deserve to have Stella call him dad anymore, how he hadn't earned it because there had been someone before him.

"I just don't want her to grow up thinking I'm trying to take his place. She has a dad already and what if resents me for stepping into that dad role when she's older? What if I don't deserve to be her dad?"

The pain in Lando's voice has your chest squeezing so painfully it becomes difficult for you to breathe. "Lando." You whisper, interlocking your fingers with his as you nuzzle deeper into his neck. "Baby, I need you to listen to me right now, okay? Can you do that for me?"

You pause, waiting for him to at least confirm he's going to try. When you feel him nod against your head, a small humm emanating from his throat, you continue. "Stella was eight months old when Chris died, she has no memories of him. You are the only dad she's ever known, okay? You. Do you understand me?"

"But what if..."

"No." You interrupt, tone a bit harsher than you intended. "Nope, you need to stop right there with the 'what ifs', Lan. Chris and I were friends for a very long time before we even started dating. I knew him very well and I need you to trust me when I tell you that he would be very much on board with Stella calling you dad."

Lando lifts his head before tilting your chin up so you can finally look at him in the eyes. His brows are furrowed and he's looking down at you like he can't quite believe what you're saying. Like he doesn't have the confidence in himself to believe what you're saying is true.

When he doesn't say anything further, you continue. "That little girl that I just finished tucking into bed adores you. She thinks the absolute world of you, my love. She was the one to call you dad in the first place, and if there's one thing i've learned since becoming a mom its that sometimes you have to trust that what your kid is saying is the truth. They're little humans with feelings and thoughts and beliefs of their own. Stella wouldn't call you dad if she didn't want to."

Your chest rises and falls faster at the end of your little speech, eyes searching Lando's for some kind of hint that you're getting through to him.

And you are. Lando's chest aches with the truth that he knows you're telling him. "I just don't think I could stand knowing I screwed something up with her. That I was a bad dad to her because I'm not really her parent."

You can't help but laugh at that and Lando's brow tugs together in confusion. "Baby, you're more of a parent than you realize."

"What do you mean?"

You reach down and capture Lando's hand in yours before giving it a squeeze. "You're not a true parent until you spend a majority of your time wondering if everything that comes out of your mouth or every decision you make is going to somehow screw up your kid. It's natural and it doesn't mean you're a bad parent."

You take Lando's face in your hands, pulling him towards you. When your nose is a breath away from his and you can almost feel his lips dusting over yours, you grin. "That makes you a good parent, Lando. And an even better one because you're helping raise a baby you didn't make. Stella is as much your baby as she is mine or Chris', do you understand me?"

Tears sting at the back of Lando's eyes. He hadn't realized how much seeing that picture of Chris and Stella in the hospital had bothered him. He felt guilty for ever being jealous of Chris, for being cold to you, for questioning Stella's judgement of her own feelings. All of it comes welling up in his chest, this feeling of overwhelming guilt threatening to drown him for a moment. You can see it happening, the panic attack coming on that you've witnessed before. You know how hard he is on himself, how much he wants to be perfect for everyone else because letting anyone down is akin to a waking nightmare.

"Listen to me." You beg, willing him to open his eyes so he can see how serious you are right now. "Lando, look at me."

Lando's eyes flutter open after a moment and you smile at him. "You are a good dad. The perfect dad for Stella, I swear to you. The first thing she asks me when I pick her up from school is always 'Is Lando home yet?' but since we came home from Switzerland, it's always 'is dad home yet?' Dad. That little girl sees you as her dad and that's the best gift you've ever given me. Do you remember what you told that horrendous PR girl last year?" You pause and Lando chuckles, that day last year in Miami flashing before his eyes.

"You told her Stella and I were the center of your world but you know what? You're the center of mine and Stella's world. I don't think you realize how important you are to other people, to us. Neither of us could survive without you, and that alone makes you worthy of being my husband and my little girl's father, okay?"

Tears stream down both of your faces as the words you've just said hang in the air between you, heavy and silent. You stay quiet, the reverberation of your words etching themselves into Lando's bones. He knows you're right, of course you are. But knowing you're right and beginning to believe it by himself? That was proving to be a little bit harder. But your words help him realize that he's doing a better job than he might think he is.

"Okay." He rasps out before covering your lips with yours, deperatly trying to show you just how much he loves you.

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[ceesimz]

chasing a ghost

exactly what you run from, you end up chasing. (angst -> happy ending)

tw- mentions internalised homophobia. it's not intense, but the story is based around it. it has a happy ending though, of course!

Everyone always says your first love sticks with you throughout your whole life. And for you, those words were a haunting truth you could never shake.

No matter how far you went, no matter how many years passed. It still rung true. Your worst fear was that it always would.

The last ten years of your life had been all over the place– literally. After the breakup, you took a gap year, because the pain after it was that intense you felt you had no other option. So, you decided to travel the world with nothing but the bag on your back, looking for an answer to your life that made such a pain worth it– not knowing the thing you were chasing was the exact thing you were running from.

You started in Spain, in Barce- in the city where you fell in love. Though, you haven't returned since you left. 

University was fun, you enjoyed it more than you thought you would. Even more so when you met the love of y- your first love. She was shy, at first. But you caught glimpses of her when she was with her friends in the study hall, when she’d come out of her shell and say something that would have them all laughing until they were shushed. When she would smile so brightly you swore the lights dimmed and a spotlight shone on her, or when she’d always wait behind for the last person in the group to tidy their stuff as the others raced off to wherever they were going next. 

You studied her from afar for weeks, spending more time doing that than studying your actual course, but it paid off when you accidentally, not-so-accidentally, bumped into her one time as she rushed from one lecture hall to the other, and the… football under her arm went tumbling down the hallway. 

A football? You remembered thinking then. Why would someone bring a football to their lecture?

“A football?” You scrunched your nose as you turned to watch the neon orange thing roll out of sight.

“Oh, s-sí. I know it is weird.” She chuckled nervously, her hand rubbing the back of her neck as her eyes darted all over your face, the football the last thing on her mind. “I have training after my next lecture. For football.”

“Well, I think you’re going to be late to your next lecture if you want to get your ball back.” You told her in amusement, hearing the commotion of a group of boys jeering over the sight of such a miraculous object appearing in front of them. 

Alexia’s eyes went wide, jumping off her train of thought and back down onto solid ground, where the aforementioned group of people, that resembled entertained cavemen watching a fire or gorillas cheering at their next meal, still had her beloved ball.

“No! I need that back!” She ran ahead, before halting a moment later when she heard your laugh behind her. So she turned back around, jogged over to you, stumbling over the cartoon love hearts swirling around her mind as she tried to find the words to say, then giggled sheepishly at herself. “Sorry for running into you. I will hopefully see you around.”

“See you around.” You replied, though she was already chasing after her prized possession before you got a chance to say it. The feeling you got after hearing her say ‘hopefully’ was a little embarrassing, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t love it.

And fortunately for you, you did see her around, quite often actually to the point where you weren’t sure if it was actually a coincidence or not. At one point, it was like the two of you unknowingly formed a routine; you would finish your first lecture at 11:30am, walk as fast as you could over to the other building where your 12pm lecture was and wait for her to arrive for her 11:45 lecture. She would arrive five minutes before she had to go in, and you’d spend that time talking together, laughing, teasing, checking in with each other, until she had to leave. Even still, she would wait until the last second before she’d be classed as late to go in, just so she could talk to you. 

Then, it progressed to meeting her for study sessions together in the library. One day, your friends on your course were somehow all off sick, and her friends were apparently not important to her when she knew you would be alone. So, without too much of a fuss, she quietly and nervously invited you to study with her, where you both spent the whole time trying to study but were actually just too excited about being together one-on-one with nobody else around to get anything done. No chaos of the corridor, no boys trying to take her football, no friends to tease you. The whole time, however, that damn football was there with you, positioned at her feet under the table as she messed with it throughout the duration of the session. 

It was there that you realised studying and education wasn’t her best skill; she was smart, very smart, her mind just seemed a million miles away everytime. All too often you’d have to tell her to concentrate when she had spent too long looking out the window at the football pitch, or you’d quietly scold her for trying to do kick-ups in the library or whenever she tried to nutmeg you when you just wanted to get through the week’s reading assignment. She never cared for grades or essays or quizzes, all she wanted was to play football.

That meant it wasn’t such a surprise to you when, on a random day after the Christmas break, she rushed in to meet you at your infamous spot outside what should have been her 11:45 lecture and, when you told her off for how she was about to be late, she smiled a smug grin and shrugged you off. Then she told you she had dropped out of University like it was nothing, before spinning you around and demanding she walked you to your lecture. She didn’t give you time to scold her like you often did, because she tugged you out of the way of people in the corridor outside the door to your lecture and kissed you, for the first time, out of nowhere, only for her to pull away and kiss your cheek in goodbye as she gently ushered you towards the door. 

You had to thank whatever god was up there that that particular lecture wasn’t too important because you don’t remember a thing about it. All you could think about throughout was the way she had pulled you in, wrapped her arms around your waist, and leaned down to kiss you with such tenderness yet such confidence that you weren’t sure you could ever be the same person again afterwards. For something so small, you felt it changed you, and though it might have been just a kiss, it opened a door for you to a version of yourself you didn’t know existed. 

After that day, you walked around with your head held high, sometimes uncertain if you were walking or skipping since you felt that much joy. You couldn’t view the world around you as ordinary anymore, everything around you seemed more vivid, the smaller things felt more significant and the bigger things less important. That kiss was a spark that ignited something… profound; changing not just your relationship with her, but who you were as a person.

You were on cloud nine with her, the kind of happiness that felt never-ending and all-consuming. That reassured you, especially in moments where you two bickered or felt a little distant as she travelled for football. You were almost certain it’d go on forever.

Every glance, every touch, every word between you, they were all things you cherished. The relationship was something sacred, just for the two of you, and you could have sworn it made your heart soar far from your chest. More often than not, you felt invincible in her company. For the first time in your life, love wasn’t a distant daydream or a wish for the future, it was something real, something that was undeniably yours that no one could take from you. No one but yourself.

Your relationship with her grew and grew, until a year of stolen kisses in the private of your rooms, a year of pinkies linked under dinner tables whilst out with your friends, a year of being just friends to everyone else but the loves of your lives to each other, a year of complete and unconditional love passed without you realising. 

“Ale, where the hell are you taking me?” You giggled, two cold hands covering your eyes as you were led somewhere by your silent girlfriend. Not that you could see, there was a huge grin on her face as she guided you to a place she had been desperate to take you ever since she met you.

“You will find out. Two more seconds, then you see.” It was all going smoothly until she led you a bit too far and you walked head first into… a gate? “Oops, lo siento, mi amor. I did not mean to, I couldn’t see how close we were, your head was in my way.”

“My head was in your way? You i- you’re the one covering my eyes! Pendeja.” You muttered, but then she lifted her hands off your face and you were met with… a football pitch. “Are you kidding me?”

“Happy one year anniversary.” Alexia smiled brightly, not at all phased by the unimpressed look on your face. “You are going to play football with me.”

“Am I really.” You scoffed, taking in the sight of the miserably grey sky and the aftermath of the morning’s rain in the form of a repulsively muddy field.

“You will. What’s that saying? Something… something about, ah, el sentido del humor?” She mumbled, waving one of her hands in the air like the wind would blow the words to her mind as she opened the gate with the other.

“You want me to humour you?” You turned back to her, desperately suppressing a smile at the way her eyes widened and she clapped her hands when you gave her the right turn of phrase.

“Eso mismo! It will be fun, come on.” 

“It’s not even our one year yet, you’re early.” You crossed your arms over your chest in one last show of defiance, when as a matter of fact, you were convinced the minute you saw the excitement on her face.

“I know but it is a year since I kissed you and that’s what started everything.” The brunette girl shrugged, tucking her hands in the pockets of her joggers.

“I think what started everything was me bumping into you when you were running.” Her jaw dropped in a very comedic way then.

“So you did do it on purpose! I knew it!” She exclaimed, walking closer and jabbing an accusing finger into your chest. You stepped backwards and laughed as she shuffled yet closer, moving into your space and pulling you into her for a hug. It was only brief and when she leaned back, her arms still around you, she shook her head in disbelief at your past antics, before softening. “Well, I did think about that date too, but I had a game that day and you had an important presentation so… I decided to do it today.”

You smiled in spite of yourself and left a kiss on her chin.

“And you thought bringing me to play football on a muddy field in the middle of winter was a good idea?” She smirked and nodded, clearly confident in her abilities to convince you.

“I have always wanted you to play it with me but you always say no. But I think, since I was the one that kissed you in the beginning, you should do this for me.” You rolled your eyes and she grinned at you as you did so, her thumbs drawing circles where they’d slipped under your jumper on your hips. “I bought you boots and everything! Also a shirt with your name on it but my number, but it is too cold for that so I left it at home. And, if you do this with me, we can have a shower together after and I wash your hair and give you a massage.”

“I was going to agree anyway but sure, I’ll take that deal.” You told her a moment later after some faux consideration, to which she clicked her tongue in response and lifted you up over her shoulder. “Oh, well, what a lovely view I have here of your- ow!”

But the magic wore off, and the whispers started.

Not from anyone else, from yourself. At first, you ignored them, turning your nose up at them and shrugging them off, thinking they were stupid because of how right it felt to be in her arms. But they were insistent, determined to make an imprint on you and the love you wanted to give. Eventually they did. And the secrecy of your relationship began to feel like a double-edged sword that cut deeper with every passing day. You needed help, needed someone to stop the barrage of insecurities that you never wanted to face, never imagined you’d have to. But it felt like a life and death matter, keeping it a secret. You believed you had no other choice. And voicing these anxieties to her, the very subject of the situation, wasn’t even an option in your mind.

You told yourself it was safer to keep it a secret, to make sure your love was safe from the cruelty of the world and its society, yet with each lie you told and each delusion you convinced yourself of, a piece of your identity was chipped away. She had a front-row seat to every part of you that slipped out of her grasp.

At some point, you even stopped recognising the person you saw in the mirror. What was once a reflection of somebody in love, brimming with hope and excitement for not only the future but for every moment you spent in the present with your girlfriend, soon turned into someone cautious, afraid, who constantly looked over their shoulder. The fear consumed you until it was hard to breathe. And in turn, you found yourself pulling away from others because you couldn’t bear lying to them any longer, whilst also not possessing the strength to tell them the truth. 

If anyone asked that past version of you why you did it, you’d tell them it was to protect both her and yourself. In reality, you knew that was such a pathetic lie. It couldn't even be called an excuse. 

Something that once brought you more fulfillment and happiness than anything else in your life soon felt like a cinder brick chained to your leg, like stones and gravel in your pockets, dragging you down until you were drowning from the expectations you thought were put on you by the world, when they really just your own.

Alexi- she grew antsy and uneasy. You begged to keep it under wraps for just a few more weeks. 

She wanted to tell people; she might have been shy at first glance, but she was the kind of person whose love demanded to be seen, she didn’t survive by keeping it contained to the shadows. Every time she looked at you, her feelings for you were written all over her face – the joy, the pride, the desperation to share her love for you with everyone that mattered. To her, you were something worth sharing with the world. She dreamed of the day she could introduce who you really were to her with her family, her friends, with anyone that would listen.

Initially, she understood why you were hesitant. Like you’d always told her, she was smart. She knew why you were reluctant to tell people, she just had no idea how deep that ‘reluctance’ ran. One of your favourite traits of hers ended up being the beginning of the end; she was exceptionally good at reading people and figuring out what was happening before it had even happened. She saw the way you shrank into yourself when people looked your way, how you would purposely lower your voice when talking about the pair of you. She tried to be patient, but it wasn’t easy. 

Each time she caught herself smiling at you in public, the same smile that made you blush because you could see and feel her love for you, she knew she had to suppress it for your sake. That caused an ache to grow in her chest, the fact she had to dim her own light to quell your worries. Because it wasn’t just the secrecy that hurt, it was the feeling that she wasn’t allowed to love you as wholeheartedly as she wanted to.

Weeks turned into months and she tried to give you your space to work it through, but soon enough she felt like she was in a relationship with a ghost. A shell of a person. And in all honesty, to her, it felt like rejection, even though she knew that wasn’t your intention. However, her assurance in that began to falter. She began to wonder if her love wasn’t enough, if she wasn’t enough. She prided herself on being someone that was confident and sure, but the longer she spent feeling like a bird in a cage, she found herself questioning everything.

Why couldn’t you see what she saw? That your love was worth the risk?

There were more nights than she could count where she spent hours laying awake, the darkness doing little to calm her racing mind. Most of the time, you were sleeping beside her, either cuddled to her side or facing away from her. The times you chose to snuggle up to her were the worst nights, where she didn’t get an ounce of sleep as it was like she could almost feel the fear radiating off of you. It reached a point where she felt trapped between wanting to honour your insecurities and needing to honour her own heart. The longer you rejected the idea of telling people, the more she felt like a secret, something to be hidden rather than openly cherished. 

Though she never wanted to make you feel guilty, there was a loneliness that settled inside of her, and there was a growing distance she felt from you that she had no idea how to bridge without it inevitably ending in one thing.

She never stopped loving you for a second, how could she? But the weight of carrying that love alone eventually became unbearable. As much as she tried to resist that, it was there anyway. It soon led to her feeling like she was losing the person she wanted to be, someone that wanted their love to be visible, that wanted to celebrate it with the people she valued most in her life. So she made a choice.

After that, you couldn’t stay in Barcelona. You couldn't stomach the place any longer when every street corner and every park and every restaurant solely served as a reminder of the good memories that were a thing of the past. Even saying the name of the city sent your head and your heart to a dark place. So did saying her name. 

Back then, you couldn’t figure out who you were; torn between the person you wanted to be and the person you thought you had to be. So you went travelling, to immerse yourself in any and all cultures, to meet new people, to try new things, in the hopes of finding yourself again.

Except, every single word that was exchanged in that final conversation still echoed in your mind no matter where you went.

You sat in cafes halfway across the world and saw her in the steam from your coffee that just so happened to be the same one she used to have every morning. You flew over countless countries and saw her in every stadium you passed by. You saw her in every blade of grass, in every speck of sand, in every sunrise and sunset, before you had to remind yourself that she wasn’t yours to think about anymore.

It had been years, almost a decade, since your first kiss with her, and you could still vividly remember how it played out, how the warmth and the softness of her lips caught you off guard, how she smirked at you after kissing your cheek in goodbye before sending you into your lecture. That spontaneous moment – well, spontaneous for you, for her it had been precariously planned – was some kind of cruel foreshadow that haunted you; it had happened in public, the pair of you could have been open from the very start, the irony of it had never been lost on you. Perhaps the warning signs might have been there from the start. 

“Our first kiss was in public, it was in front of so many people, but now I can’t even smile at you too much when we’re out together.”

“Don’t say that. You’re the one that initiated our first kiss in public, I didn’t.”

“So, what, you would change how it happened?”

“M… maybe, yeah.”

You knew, as soon as you said that last thing, the relationship was over. To this day you still don’t know why you said it, you wouldn’t change a thing about the relationship or her as a person. It was just another example of you being too terrified to be honest with who you were. 

By the time you accepted that it was okay to be who you were, there was only one person you wanted. But by then, that ship had long sailed. You didn’t want anyone, you wanted her. Forcing yourself to believe otherwise felt like carving out a part of your heart. It was almost as hard as having to hear her break up with you over a fear you didn’t even know you had until she ran into your life. As a result, she was long gone, and you didn’t even blame her.

Eventually, you managed to persuade yourself you didn’t want her. It was better that way. And though you weren’t quite whole, you did find yourself through travelling. It just… you still felt like something was missing.

—

Dropping out of University wasn’t ideal, but like most other people that did the same thing, you saw too much beauty in the world on your gap year to be restrained to a 9-5 for the rest of your life. You were fortunate enough to find a company that allowed you to pick up odd jobs here and there of your choosing, in any country of your choosing. It was a dream, you felt free when you weren't ruminating on the events that led you to this point.

Each city you visited became a second home for however long you spent there, though every fleeting connection you made with their locals was a futile attempt to paint over the memories from your past. Nothing could fill the void left behind, but still, you jumped from country to country, telling yourself that planes and hotels and hole-in-the-wall bars were the places you were supposed to be. 

Finding yourself walking home from the closest corner shop to your hotel at the dead of night past one of Sydney’s most well-known clubs, only to stumble across her standing outside its entrance, was the most suffocated and trapped you had felt since the days after you saw her last– nine years ago.

You stopped in your tracks some distance away from her, your eyes locking with hers as she froze, body going rigid at the sight of you. Nothing could have prepared you to see her that night, you really weren’t ready to see her again at all especially with zero warning. Sure, you dreamt of seeing her again, of being back in each other’s lives like no time had passed at all, but actually seeing her was a whole different story. 

You didn’t know what to do.

“I never thought I would see you again.” Alexia, with pink hair and an unnecessarily large gold medal around her neck, stated first. “Qué coño haces aquí?”

The viciousness of her voice caught you off-guard, because throughout your whole relationship including the ending argument, she had never once sounded like that. Though, nine years had passed, maybe she had changed. For the worst.

So, you walked right past her, not in the mood to entertain a fight with an ex. 

“I was talking to you.” She called after you, sounding somewhat shocked you had the audacity to walk past her like she was nothing more than a stranger. But, in this state, she was. It seemed the years had hardened her into someone that was just a stranger. 

“Maybe I don’t want to talk to you.” You fired back as you continued to walk, and you thought that was that. But then you heard the breaking of glass as Alexia dropped her bottle of beer into the nearest bin and followed you.

“You know, it is the least I deserve after how you treated me back then.” She knew exactly the right thing to say to get you to react.

“If you had half a brain and any sense of sympathy, you would know I didn’t do any of it to hurt you.” You fought back, turning to face her and wanting nothing more than to slap the triumphant smirk off of her face. 

“Now that is a lie. How would that make it okay? That the person I love didn’t love me enough to let me tell my family at least?” 

Almost a decade’s worth of anger was being unleashed on you and there was nothing you could do to stop it. You knew you deserved it, but were too riled up in the moment to sit there and take it. So you retaliated, because the woman in front of you was being selfish and too big-headed to see why you did it, and if she still didn’t understand after nine years, it was her own fault.

“Of course I loved you enough, I loved you more than I could ever say. Have you, on the off chance, ever heard of something called anxiety? Ever heard of a thing called fear, and depression, or even just mental health overall?”

When Alexia won her first Champion’s League, you purposely went out of your way to ignore the news, because it seemed after that title her name was never out of it. So, even though her face was all over the newspapers during the summer you spent in London, detailing the severity of her injury and what that meant for Spain’s chances, you didn’t know a thing about it. 

You matched her immaturity, completely unaware of the fact she had just spent the best part of a year out of playing action, during which she had so desperately wished she had you by her side to help her through one of the worst moments of her life. In the first couple months, she had been forced to see a therapist, she had been diagnosed with depression, and what she learnt in those sessions was that all the mental pain she felt then came circling right back to you.

Alexia had thrown herself into football after breaking up with you, seeking refuge in the one thing that had never let her down all her life. But then she tore her ACL, and it had let her down, and suddenly the emptiness of her bed and her chest was the only thing on her mind. There were days where she never left the house, where she didn’t do her stretches, didn’t get up from the sofa to keep her leg moving. There were days where all she thought about was you, and how different things might have been if the two of you weren’t so young back then.

Maybe if she was more patient, you two would have made it, and her gruelling rehab wouldn’t have been so challenging. But she was on her own, she had no one to wake up for in the morning, no shoulder to cry on, no one to reassure her in the middle of the night when she couldn’t sleep that she’d get through this. She just had to get on with it. 

So to see you stood in front of her only mere months after she'd made her return, despite winning the biggest title of her career, it was like she’d finally woken up from the numb headspace she’d been in since the pop in her knee the summer before. Only, the words that came out of her mouth weren’t her true feelings. She had no idea where they were coming from, but they were out before she could stop them. And then it was too late to go back on her words, because by the time she regretted them, you hit back with accusations that stoked the fire that had been extinguished by her progress in therapy. She reverted back to how she felt before her injury, when she still loathed you with every fibre of being, and let out every ounce of pain and fury she had carried with her for years.

However, after you said that, the Barcelona captain came up empty for a reply.

“Times have changed. Things were different then.” You continued on, and it was obvious that too long had passed in the way you couldn't read her face anymore. You completely missed the sorrow and regret on her face, and instead took it for disdain.

“I kno-”

“You don't know a thing.” You laughed maliciously. “You have no idea how I felt or what was going on in my mind. All you did was blame me and run away.”

Just as Alexia had gone to apologise and go back on everything she said, you took things a step further. You were disappointed in yourself for it, but you felt there was no other option but to meet her anger and one-up her, to fight for the last laugh. It was so wrong to address each other in such ways, you both recognised that. Not that it stopped either of you.

“I did not run away, you did. You haven't come home since we broke up and I think that says it all, no?”

“There is no home for me in Barcelona anymore.” Alexia physically recoiled at your statement, and you saw it. You saw the guilt slip away from her eyes and the anger return to them. But it was too late to do anything.

“Well, it looks like it was worth it for the both of us, the breakup. You got to travel and I have the best medal I could get around my neck.” 

Your eyes flicked down to the medal and you read the words on it – Women’s World Cup. It was her biggest dream, you remembered countless times she’d be with you, her eyes with that far away look she often got and a dreamy smile on her face as she thought of her future and all she knew she could achieve, as long as the world and the sport allowed her.

“What are you thinking about?” You asked her one night as you wandered into your bedroom to see her lay in  bed, hands rested under her head as she stared at the ceiling. 

“Football.” She murmured, eyes unmoving, like her entire future was projected on the ceiling in some kind of montage, flickers of trophies and awards passing on by.

“How romantic.” You scoffed, getting into bed beside her and immediately moving to rest your head on her chest with one leg swung across her thighs. “What about football?”

“I am just… excited. There is so much to look forward to.” She whispered in awe, a smile on her face so intense it creased into the corners of her eyes. The sight of it had you smiling too.

“There is.” You sighed contently, before lifting your head up to look at her, and she looked down. “You’ll do such amazing things, Ale. I know you will.”

Somehow, her face softened, and she let out a disbelieving breath as she turned her gaze back to the damn ceiling.

“I hope so.” The midfielder said quietly, as if it was a jinx to speak any louder.

“You will. But you can’t forget me along the way. I want all your medals hung up in our house when we’re older.” Alexia chuckled gently at that, and she leaned down to kiss the top of your head.

“You can have all my medals, you will be right there with me. Me, you, our families. Maybe a family of our own.”

The memory seemed to jump to your minds at the same time, judging by how you met each other’s eyes a moment after you initially looked at the now taunting object that glimmered under the street lamps and city lights around. Her past promise, which had seemed so… eternal and meaningful in that moment, was hardly recognisable. The eyes you stared at weren’t the same either. They were cold and antagonistic, far from the warmth that was once there, the warmth that drew you in in the first place.

It was that revelation that allowed you to continue this animosity.

“Oh yeah? Good for you. I’m sure you and your gold medal will make great kids together.”

“Fuck you. I don’t even know who you are anymore.” 

Alexia knew she’d won with that one; she turned around with a shake of her head and headed back to the club whilst you were rooted to the spot, wondering how everything could go so wrong in a matter of minutes. 

You don’t know who you are either. 

—

That day, in Australia, it wrecked you. Wholly and completely.

It was the nail in the coffin that was your sense of self, because if the one person that never left your thoughts for even a day thought of you like that, then you were lost. Truly lost. 

For nine years, whether you knew it or not, you’d been waiting every day to turn a corner and see her standing there. You imagined walking up to her, tears in your eyes and a smile on your face, an expression she reflected when she opened her arms for you to step into. You’d had her hugs for a year, you’d memorised them well, nine years couldn’t erase that and neither could a lifetime. You would always remember the strength she hugged you with and how secure they made you feel in everything. In yourself, in your life, in your love. But to have that same person tell you they don’t recognise you was an unfathomable heartbreak.

No matter where you went in the time after that, the pain never went away. Ever since you realised you’d never be who you was when you were with Alexia, no matter how many places you travelled or how many people you met, how many jobs you did or how many degrees you could get, you wouldn’t feel as settled and happy without her. And, in fact, with time, the ache in your heart only grew. It ached and groaned in your hollow chest as you dragged it around the world when it called for one place and one place only. Or rather, one person.

But said person had made their dislike clear to you. So that option was more unlikely than it’d ever been before. 

Not impossible, however. 

Because Alexia couldn’t hate herself more for saying so many lies. For being so disgraceful in how she presented herself to someone she still thought so highly of. Most importantly, for making that person think otherwise about her opinion of them.

In the years after she saw you last, when she walked out of your apartment to the sound of your cries behind her, she’d subconsciously searched for you in every person she met. Any habit they had, any slight familiarity in appearance even if it was one freckle in the same place, any similar interests. It was wrong and she knew it was, when she looked back. All the people she hurt, the people who thought they had a chance with her against the idolised version of her first love in her mind, they didn’t deserve her. And after Sydney, she didn’t deserve you either.

When she said those vile things to you, she hoped she would feel some kind of… closure from it. Some kind of catharsis in the fact she could finally close the chapter of her life that had you on her mind all the time. Instead there was just a deep and gnawing disappointment that followed her everywhere she went. From her bed, to training, to her mother’s house – especially her mother’s house, for the wise woman always loved to remind her of what she’d lost – and even to her games as she lined up in the tunnel beforehand.

Her disappointment towards you had dissolved years ago, this disappointment was entirely aimed at herself. She hated how she had let her anger, that she didn’t even feel anymore, overshadow the love that had once defined the both of you. It still did, just in a different and entirely soul-crushing way. The love clung to her heart like a wound that refused to heal, even after all these years.

Ever since she made the hardest decision she had ever had to make, cutting you out of her life, she had spent so much time moving forwards, pushing herself to be stronger, to achieve more, hoping it would erase the memory of you and numb the pain she felt. That failed, however. The only thing she failed at. Seeing you again had broken the dam that stored all her feelings for you and let them flood her mind again. She felt more broken after that confrontation than she had in a long time.

Alexia hadn’t blamed you for some time, and she wasn’t sure why, the second you were in front of her, that she acted like she did. Nobody compared to you and nobody ever would. The fact she made such a horrible comment, one her aggravated self knew would hurt you, did irrevocable things to her view of herself. She never thought she could stoop so low, but she did. She didn’t know how to come back from it.

The version of you she saw that day, the version of you she knew didn’t exist and was only a retaliation to her own hostility, was not the version that stuck in her head the months after that. It was the person she fell in love with when she was only twenty. And it was that version she got when she was getting led out of a bar in Paris, a year after the World Cup, this time with no medal to her name, just a missed penalty.

It was the exact same setup a year onwards, but things were so much different. For starters, you weren’t in Paris for work, you were on a break, and of course the one city in the world you ran to for respite was the same one she was in. However, the sight of two members of security walking out of a bar behind the star you knew Alexia as now was enough concern in itself for you to abandon your friends, who had no idea who the blonde was both as a celebrity and a person of the past to you. Your nerves were fried and you were reluctant to speak to her again, but as soon as you got within two feet of her, you grimaced at how the smell of alcohol radiated off her and knew instantly it was the right thing to do.

“I’ll take her, sorry for… whatever she’s done.” You said to the workers, who rolled their eyes and left you with the drunken mess she was.

“No, you don’t have to take me. You d-don’t deserve to. N-not me.” 

Her words were slurred and there was an overwhelming amount of emotion in her voice. The state of her combined with those two things was enough to convince you this time around with her would be different. Different in what way, you weren’t sure. But she could hardly walk on her own, you couldn’t leave anyone in this way, nevermind someone like her who… still meant so much to you.

“Come on, I’ll take you back to where you’re staying, make sure you get there safe.” You had to be sensible then, and focusing on the softness of her skin when you lifted her arm up around your shoulders and held onto her hand was not sensible. “Do you know your hotel?”

She rattled off some more drunk nonsense until you managed to pick out the name of a hotel in her words as you wrapped your arm around her waist to steady her. Fortunately, it wasn’t too far from where you were. And despite her current state, she was unnervingly silent on the walk there. It wasn’t until you made it to the hotel lobby you chanced a look at her and saw a steady stream of tears down her face. 

When you saw her like that then, it didn’t matter how many years had passed. It upset you to see her cry then as much as it did when you used to be the one she went to in these cases. Yet, in this scenario, you weren’t that person and you didn’t know how to deal with that.

“Hey, do you have your card on you, Ale?” The nickname slipped out of you, and it was a bad move, judging by the cries that came out of her afterwards. “Okay, alright.”

Since you couldn’t get much out of her, you dragged her over to the reception desk, and it took little convincing for them to hand over a spare keycard considering the sobbing mess that Alexia was.

The whole walk to the elevator, you felt helpless as her shoulders shook, torn between wanting to say something and thinking it was best to stay quiet for the time being since you knew you were probably part of the reason she was like she was. The ride up to her floor was even worse; all you could do was stand there, arm around her and hand in hand, listening to the pain pouring out of her. It sent you spiralling, almost, thinking of the years apart where she’d been like this with no one to help her like you were now.

All you wanted to do was wipe away her tears, to embrace her, to tell her everything was okay. But that was entirely unrealistic, because you had no idea where you stood with her and telling someone in her state that everything was okay was entirely meaningless. Seeing her so vulnerable and so wrecked was a reminder of exactly how much she meant to you. 

So, it was in that elevator, you made a split-second decision; from that moment on, you were going to do anything to fix this ridge between you. You had her a year ago but royally screwed up your chance. You had her ten years ago and screwed up that chance too. You weren’t about to let history repeat itself for the third time.

“Here we go, you sit down here, okay? I’ll be back in a minute.” You carefully urged her to sit on the armchair in her room, and she did, but only for about a second. When she saw you walk away from her, she shot up out of her chair, mumbling some rushed Spanish you couldn’t quite make out as she tried to follow wherever you were going. “I’m just getting you some water from the fridge.”

“Don’t go.” She sighed heavily, her eyelids drooping slightly from the alcohol in her system mixed with the overload of emotions from the day she’d had. She sounded wrecked when she spoke, and she looked at you with a desperation that made your heart stop. “Please don’t go. Not… not again.”

You nodded reassuringly, heading back over to her and tentatively taking hold of one of her hands. She immediately brought it up to her lips and kissed your knuckles, some more tears making their way out.

“I’m not going anywhere. Not right now.” You told her quietly, watching as she closed her eyes, maybe in relief, before she slumped back down into the chair. Her head fell back and you heard some more cries from her, but she seemed to be making as much an effort as she could to stifle them. That was perhaps more heartbreaking than the sound of her sobs. “Here you go. Drink some water.”

With shaking hands, she managed to get the bottle open after a few tries, and you sat on the edge of the bed across from her. Some minutes passed by as you gazed at her and she calmed down, and weirdly, it didn’t feel uncomfortable or charged with vitriol like it did last time. Things seemed to be… in the past. Of course, all the emotions and feelings were still there, both of you could sense the elephant in the room and you didn’t dance around it for too long before one of you spoke.

“How… how did we end up like this.” Alexia mumbled. You didn’t have an answer for her. There was too much to say but it didn’t feel like anything could cover it.

“I don’t know.” You whispered back. The blonde tore her eyes away from the label of the water bottle that she messed with and met your gaze. The concerned look on your face made her smile, just for a second. “I really don’t know.”

“I want you to know that I am sorry. For my part in everything.” She rushed out like she was afraid of your reaction, her attention back on the water bottle she’d gotten through half of already.

The apology caught you by surprise. You weren’t sure what you were expecting but it wasn’t that.

“I’m sorry too.” You replied some time after. 

It also caught Alexia by surprise as well, if the way her head snapped up at you and her eyebrows raised and her eyes widened was anything to go by. You smiled shyly at her, only for the hopeful glint in her eyes to cause your breath to hitch in your throat. It was the first time in… well, the first time ever, that you felt this rift could be fixed. She seemed to want the same thing, and you hoped to god that the alcohol in her system wasn’t affecting her clarity.

“Why did you come here? At the bar, why did you help me?” She wondered, her eyebrows pinched together then, seemingly confused.

“Because no matter what’s happened between us, I couldn’t leave you like that. You seemed like you needed help.” You answered initially, before pausing for a second. Alexia nodded for you to continue. “What happened today, Ale? For you to get like this?”

The midfielder huffed, fidgeting in her seat and blinking away yet more tears that tried to fight their way out.

“I… there is a lot on my mind. Has been for a while. And my team, Spain, we were playing an important game today. For an Olympic medal. I…” She frowned, turning her head so that you couldn’t see her face. She seemed ashamed of herself when she spoke again. “I missed a penalty that would have made us level, it would have given us a chance and I… I missed it.”

The bottle dropped to the floor as she covered her face with her hands, her chest heaving as she leaned forwards to rest her elbows on her knees, shoulders shaking again like they did earlier. The sobs leaving her, much like before, were difficult to hear because they sounded like they’d been repressed for far longer than a few hours. Before you could react, though, she was talking again.

“I have missed so many big chances. I missed today. I missed last year with you. I messed up my knee twice. I messed up with you when I broke up with you. I can’t… do anything right.”

As soon as she finished, you were up from your seat and heading over to kneel in front of her. You gently pulled her hands from her face and wrapped your arms around her, encouraging her to do the same as she leaned her forehead against your shoulder. And for a while, the two of you stayed like that. Alexia cried and cried until she exhausted herself, you weren’t sure how long she went on, but you weren’t going to stop her at any point. She needed that more than anything else.

Until she pulled back suddenly and put her hands on your cheeks, cradling them tenderly and stroking her thumbs across your cheekbones. You weren’t expecting it, but… you didn’t stop it either. Even when she leaned down and pressed her forehead against yours.

“So much time has gone by. I haven’t forgotten you, cariño, I told you I never would.” She said, her voice hoarse and hardly there. “I never forgot you, never will.”

You wanted to tell her how you felt, wanted to tell her that hearing her say that was the best thing you’d heard in ten years, wanted to tell her you still loved her. But the time wasn’t right.

“Thank you.” You decided to say, and you saw how her face fell, before she quickly disguised her disappointment and gave a tight-lipped smile instead. “You’re exhausted, Ale. You should go to bed, get some rest. Sleep this off.”

“What will you do?” The fear and the anxiety in her tone then, you knew all too well. It was exactly what you felt back then and the resemblance gave you goosebumps. How things had changed.

“I’ll stay for a little while. As long as you get in bed and try to rest.” 

Thankfully, she did as you said, and no more than ten minutes later, the blonde was under the covers with only the small bedside lamp on so that you could see. She lay on her stomach facing away from where you sat against the headboard beside her, finally having a second to think for yourself and process all that had happened. The thing you landed on first, the main feeling you could identify, was how overwhelmed you felt. You couldn’t think clearly when she was in bed next to you. 

When you thought she was asleep, her breathing even and quiet compared to how she was before when she was worked up, you took a chance and leaned down to leave a kiss on her shoulder. It seemingly went off without a hitch, so with tears of your own forming, you quietly got off the bed and headed towards the door.

“You leaving?” Alexia asked in a half-asleep mumble. When you paused with your hand on the handle, she waited a minute before carrying on. “It’s okay. See you around. Hopefully.” 

—

It was inevitable that you’d end up back here. Back in the city you met her.

After she’d said that phrase to you, the same phrase that really started it all, you knew it was only a matter of time before you saw her again. Because that time in Paris, it had been different. 

If someone asked you why, you would say you weren’t sure. It was a gut feeling, not a certainty. The same gut feeling that took you around the world even though it seemed nothing ever truly surmounted from it. However, in the end, something had. It led you back to Alexia.

After you closed the door to her hotel room behind her once you left, you leaned back against it and put a hand over your mouth to cover your own cries that forced their way out. She was right behind you in the room, she could probably hear you, but you didn’t care. She had apologised and told you she hadn’t forgotten about you. Those two things meant so much more than they seemed to on the surface. 

As you walked down the familiar streets of Barcelona, the past ten years flashed by in a similar way to how people thought your life flashed by before the end. All the anguish, the resentment, the guilt and regret, they strolled right on by. You ignored them and focused on the good. Albeit, there wasn’t much of that, but enough that you felt sure in what you were about to do. This wasn’t the end, this was the beginning again. This was one door closing and another one opening as you entered a cafe you knew like the back of your hand, even a decade on.

She was sat at the same table you always used to sit at. A booth by the window in the back corner. Closed off enough from the other customers with a view of the streets you both walked together in the past. Her hand in yours, hidden in the pocket of her coat. 

Her back was to you as went over, so by the time you got there and went to sit down, she was flustered, standing up out of nerves yet unsure of how to greet you. To put her at ease, you giggled softly, then sat down across from her. She let out a relieved sigh before crossing her arms on the table and taking in the sight of you in front of her. It was the first time she properly had the chance. 

You looked older, ten years had passed so of course you did, but nothing about you had changed that much. You were still the same person she fell in love with and that’s all that mattered to her.

“Hi.” You finally said. 

“Hi.” She replied.

The pair of you shared tearful smiles and one of Alexia’s hands drifted across the table to take one of yours. With her in front of you, the same girl you bumped into at University, and her hand, that was slightly weathered by the years of sports, holding yours, it felt like no time had passed at all.

—

shamelessly inspired by tyler the creator! i had the majority of this done until that anon decided to drop by last night and then that kinda put me off this one but it's whatever! i know this was a bit of a heavy read so i thank you for sticking with it and i hope it was enjoyable nevertheless <3

[amirasainz]

hi, you write beautifully! i was wondering if you could please write something about lando and the reader, when they have different love languages lando has touch and the reader has gifts

Thank you 😊

Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!

- xoxo babygirl 🧡

Different Love Languages, Same Love

Lando had always been a tactile person. It wasn’t something he tried to be, it was just who he was—he liked being close, feeling skin against skin, sharing warmth. And then there was Y/N, his polar opposite when it came to expressing love. She’d always had a knack for finding the perfect gift or gesture, something that showed she’d been paying attention to the tiniest details. They were different, yes, but those differences only seemed to bring them closer.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

The first time Y/N really noticed how much Lando’s love language shaped his actions was at a fan meet-and-greet.

It was a chaotic day at the track. Fans swarmed Lando as soon as he stepped out of the hospitality tent. Y/N had been standing beside him, holding his water bottle, her presence understated like always. But the moment the crowd surged forward, Lando’s hand shot out, grabbing hers and pulling her in front of him.

“Stay close,” he murmured, his arm wrapping protectively around her waist.

She could feel the rapid thump of his heart as he tucked her into his chest, shielding her from the crush of fans. Even as he smiled and signed autographs, his other hand never left her, his fingers brushing her arm or hip every few seconds as if to make sure she was still there.

Later that night, when they were back at the hotel, she teased him about it.

“Lando, I wasn’t about to get lost in a sea of fans,” she said, smiling as she pulled her hair up into a ponytail.

He looked up from where he was lying on the bed, his face softening. “I know. I just… I didn’t want anything to happen to you. You’re the most important person there, you know?”

Her heart melted on the spot.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Y/N’s love showed itself in other ways—like the time Lando won his first-ever F1 race.

It had been a whirlwind of champagne, interviews, and celebrations. Y/N was right there through it all, cheering the loudest, her face aching from how wide her smile had been the entire time. The next day, while Lando was still sleeping off the post-race exhaustion, she went out and found a small pendant shaped like a racecar. It wasn’t fancy, but it was something to mark the moment.

When Lando woke up and saw it, his expression was priceless.

“What’s this?” he asked, holding it up to the light.

“Just something to remember yesterday by,” Y/N said casually, though her cheeks were already warming. “You can put it on your keychain or something.”

Lando sat up and looked at her for a long moment before pulling her into his lap, burying his face in her neck. “You’re unreal, you know that? I don’t deserve you.”

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Their differences became even more apparent on the nights they’d go out with friends. Y/N wasn’t a big drinker, but occasionally, she’d let loose. Lando always took on the role of her unofficial babysitter, not that she ever needed it. One particular night, though, she’d had one cocktail too many.

On the way home, she slouched in the passenger seat of Lando’s car, her head lolling against the window. “You’re so pretty, you know that?” she slurred, turning to look at him with glassy eyes.

Lando laughed, shaking his head. “Thanks, love. So are you.”

When she tried to sit up, he reached over, guiding her feet onto his lap.

“What are you doing?” she asked, confused but too tipsy to argue.

“Just keeping you close,” he said simply, one hand steering the car while the other rested on her ankle.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

For Y/N, showing her love meant remembering the little things—like the time Lando casually mentioned wanting a specific pair of headphones while scrolling online. Six months later, on his birthday, he unwrapped the exact pair he’d been eyeing.

“How did you remember this?” he asked, holding them up with a mix of surprise and awe.

“I pay attention,” Y/N said with a grin. “You should try it sometime.”

He tackled her onto the couch, peppering her face with kisses.

“I don’t need to,” he said between kisses. “I already have everything I want.”

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

One of Lando’s most memorable gestures came during a rare beach day together. They’d found a secluded spot, far from the prying eyes of fans or photographers. Y/N had been lying on the sand, soaking up the sun, when Lando suddenly scooped her up and pulled her onto his chest.

“Lando!” she yelped, laughing as she tried to wriggle free. “What are you doing?”

“Keeping you close,” he said, wrapping his arms around her. “And making sure you don’t get sand in your hair. You hate that.”

She rolled her eyes but let him hold her, her head resting against his shoulder as they watched the waves.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

The balance they struck was perfect in its own way.

When Lando came home after particularly grueling race weekends, Y/N always had something waiting for him—sometimes flowers, sometimes his favorite takeout, sometimes just a handwritten note tucked into his pillow.

And when Y/N had rough days, Lando would pull her into his arms and hold her until the tension melted away.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

One night, as they lay tangled together on the couch, Y/N looked up at him and asked, “Do you ever wish we had the same love language?”

Lando tilted his head, considering her question. “Not really. I think it’s kind of perfect the way it is. You make me feel loved in ways I never expected.”

She smiled, reaching up to trace his jawline. “You do the same for me.”

And that was all that mattered.

[yuujispinkhair]

I WANNA BE YOUR ENDGAME – Chapter 11

🏒❤️ A Hockey Romance feat. modern!Sukuna

Pairing: HockeyPlayer!Sukuna x Reader (female) Genre: College AU, Hockey AU, fluff + smut Playlist: I wanna be your Endgame Word Count: 4.5k Warnings: 18+, smut, cigarettes, alcohol. Fuckbuddies to lovers. Reader is a creative writing student. Sukuna is an ice hockey player + history student. This story will have approximately 14 chapters. Minors don't interact. Header by me. Divider @/benkeibear

MASTERLIST

You are deep in thought as you walk towards the ice hockey arena. Sukuna asked you to meet him there at ten for another private ice skating lesson. You can't help but grin because, yeah, you are certainly in need of more lessons. But it's a bit weird that he wants to meet up so late. You didn't even know the arena is still open at that time of night, but you won't question the guy who practically lives in the hockey arena. Plus, Sukuna is busy with his studies, hockey practice, and his insane workout schedule, so maybe this is the only free time he has this week.

In the end, it doesn't matter because who are you trying to kid? You would never say no when Sukuna wants to see you. Even if he knocked on your door at 3 a.m. and asked you to once again be his getaway driver for some prank on a rival team, you would grab your jacket and leave with him. You are down bad for your fuckbuddy, and you know it. And you will take every minute you can have with him for as long as it lasts.

Your grin turns into a bittersweet smile. You still can't figure out how Sukuna feels about you. Sometimes you think he likes you too. Like when he acted so jealous when Satoru tried to hit on you. Or when he smiles that rare smile at you and looks deeply into your eyes with that almost dreamy look in his maroon eyes.

But you don't know for sure. You could ask Sukuna, of course. Or you could confess how you feel. But the thing is, you are too scared. Too scared that you misinterpreted things. That you made more out of it in your fantasy than there really is. After all, it has happened before. Your mind is the mind of a writer. Someone who spends her life in her head. And maybe you once again mixed up reality with your fantasies.

So it's better not to do anything. Safer. Because you know that the moment you tell Sukuna you see more in him than your fuckbuddy, and he doesn't reciprocate those feelings, it will be over. And you aren't ready for that. Just the thought of losing him makes you drown in anxiety.

You reach the dimly lit small plaza in front of the hockey arena, and your heart jumps to your throat when you see Sukuna leaning casually against the closed entrance, smoking a cigarette while waiting for you.

He's dressed in grey sweatpants and a black hoodie under his equally black jacket. The glow of the cigarette he's bringing to his smirking lips lights up his angular jaw and his facial tattoos, and the light coming from the street lamp lets his pastel pink hair look almost like a halo on top of the bad boy's head.

Sukuna watches you with that cat-like and always slightly amused gaze, making your heart race like crazy. The effect he has on you is insane. You walk towards him with weak knees, feeling flustered and giddy, unable to stop yourself from smiling broadly.

Sukuna flicks his half-smoked cigarette elegantly onto the ground and crushes it with his Nikes. He grins at you, greeting you with that sexy, velvety voice,

"Hey, princess."

Sukuna reaches out to ruffle your hair and laugh that low, rough laugh when you squeal and pat his hand away even while you smile at him and wish you could just grab his hand and hold it and never let go again.

Sukuna's hand brushes over yours and then glides down your back until it comes to rest on the small of your back to pull you slightly closer. Sukuna's eyes trail slowly over your face. He licks his lips when his gaze lands on your mouth, and for a moment, you think he will kiss you, but then he smirks his typical cocky smirk and jerks his tattooed chin towards the large glass door behind him.

"Let's go. You keep watch while I get us inside."

"What? I knew something was wrong when you said to meet here at ten at night! We cannot break in!"

Sukuna laughs, and his smirk grows even wider,

"Technically, it's not breaking in if I have a key."

He pulls a keychain in the shape of a tiger head out of his jacket and lets it dangle from his long, tattooed fingers, presenting you with a single key glittering lightly in the light coming from the streetlamp.

You raise a suspicious eyebrow,

"Did you steal that key?"

"Nah, our coach gave it to me. Believe it or not, I am a trusted team member. Let's just say that when he gave me the key, he said it was for emergencies, and it's debatable whether our private ice skating lesson counts as an emergency. But who cares? I wanted to have the arena all to ourselves. Also, I am the fucking star player of this team, so I should be allowed in here anytime I fucking want."

Sukuna winks at you, and you shake your head incredulously at his typical display of arrogance. But at the same time, you can't help but laugh, and your heart jumps at the thought that Sukuna planned this. That he wanted to be alone with you. A secret night in the hockey arena. Just the two of you. It's romantic.

Sukuna slings his large hockey bag over one shoulder and unlocks the door. He holds it open for you, like a gentleman in an old movie, making butterflies flutter in your stomach as you enter. The door closes behind you, and Sukuna's tall body bumps gently into you, his low voice close to your ear,

"We have to keep the lights off, though, because I don't want the janitor to come to check what's going on."

He grins at you and takes your hand into his much larger one, interlacing your fingers and giving your hand a squeeze. Holding it just like you wished he would only a minute ago. Sukuna's voice is laced with amusement when he adds,

"Don't worry, princess. I got you. I would find my way through this arena even blind."

You chuckle softly, excitement tingling in your veins, your pulse racing so fast that you are sure Sukuna can feel it where your palms are pressed against each other.

Sukuna leads you down the dark hallway that's only lit by the emergency lights. The hockey arena seems ghostly like this, too dark and too silent. It would be creepy if you were here alone, but with Sukuna by your side and his hand holding yours, you feel completely safe.

Sukuna finds his way through the nightly hockey arena with ease, proof of how much time he spends here, all those countless hours of training and hockey games and team meetings. He brings you to the player's bench without any accident, turning around to grin proudly at you as he tugs you towards him and gently but firmly makes you sit on the bench.

The huge arena seems a lot smaller tonight when almost all the lights are off. The only light comes from the LED strips fixed to the boards around the rink. They cast the ice and the first few rows of the stands into a fairytale-like soft half-light. It makes your stomach flutter. Being here in the nightly hockey arena feels so intimate as if you and Sukuna are the only people in the whole world.

You steal a curious glance at Sukuna. He is pulling his hockey skates out of his bag and puts them on with routined moves, his long tattooed fingers tying the laces so gracefully that you find it impossible to look away.

Sukuna turns his head to smirk at you, catching you staring at him instead of putting on your own ice skates. But before you can get flustered, Sukuna is already getting off the bench and on his knees in front of you with that damn sexy smirk on his handsome face. He holds out a large hand while cocking his head,

"Come on, give me your foot, princess. I'll help you."

You feel so nervous suddenly. It's stupid because you are used to doing all kinds of other things with Sukuna that involve being a lot closer to him with a lot less clothing, and yet this here feels so strangely intimate.

You slip out of your sneakers and carefully place one socked foot in Sukuna's hand. He smirks a lopsided smirk and puts the ice skates expertly on your feet, kneeling before you the whole time while carefully lacing them up.

He takes his time, working focused while being so gentle and caring, and you can't stop looking at him, how he, the star player of the hockey team, kneels before you with his pink hair and pretty, tattooed face. You're hit with such an intense wave of longing that it almost makes you sob. You want to tell Sukuna you love him, want to tell him how much he and all your shared moments mean to you.

Your lips open, but no words come out, and you close your mouth again when Sukuna pats your leg and grins up at you,

"All done. Let's get on the ice."

He gets up, towering over you again, so tall and broad. He looks intimidating with his muscular, tall build and face tattoos, but you know him by now. It's funny, but Sukuna is the person you feel most at ease with. Even when your heart is pounding like crazy, just at the feel of his warm, calloused hands wrapping around yours and pulling you up from the bench and into his arms.

You can smell his cologne, that fresh, sexy scent that makes your head spin with want. You bite your lip, grinning up at Sukuna as you make the first tentative steps on the ice skates, your hands clinging tightly to Sukuna's. His hold on you is firm and safe as he leads you carefully to the ice.

You are still wobbly on the ice skates and not really confident you will stay upright for long, but you don't have to worry, you realize. Sukuna doesn't seem to plan on letting go of you tonight. He has one strong arm around you while his other hand holds yours safely, his long fingers interlaced with yours, offering a comforting warmth even here on the cold rink.

Skating across the ice with Sukuna is fun, just like it was the last time. He moves as if he is walking on normal ground, so skilled and sure on his hockey skates that you can't stop marveling at how graceful he looks. He gives you instructions, his low voice soft in the silent arena as if he doesn't want to disturb the serene atmosphere. And you laugh as you let him pull you along and try to get a feeling for the ice beneath your feet.

You do the second round across the rink, and Sukuna slowly pulls his arm that was around your waist away. He is skating next to you, holding your hand while his maroon eyes are on you, carefully checking if you are able to keep the balance without the added safety of his arm around you.

And to your delight, it works. You smile and make a triumphant noise as you skate next to Sukuna, only holding his hand, and he laughs, looking at you with one of his rare, dazzling smiles.

There's a softness in his eyes tonight as he watches you. It makes your pulse race and feel giddy and full of adrenaline. But the problem is that you are so distracted staring at Sukuna that you lose your focus and slip on the ice after all, squealing loudly as you lose your balance and are about to tumble down.

But Sukuna catches you, his muscular arms instantly wrapped safely around you, pulling you against him, making both of you glide back a few meters from the impact of your body slamming into Sukuna. Your squeal turns into breathless laughter as you cling to Sukuna's hoodie, holding tightly onto him.

Sukuna raises an amused eyebrow at you,

"So eager to get all cozy with me, huh, princess?"

His low voice is warm, and his maroon eyes are too, that same beautiful smile lifting his lips again as he gently holds you, his large hands sprawling over your waist, his eyes never leaving yours.

You chuckle, telling him in what you wanted to be a joking voice but which comes out all breathy,

"Maybe I like being all cozy with the 6'3" guy who is always warm, even on this freezing ice rink."

God, I sound like an idiot!

You bite your lip, fearing you will say more, and end up accidentally telling Sukuna how much you want him to be more than just your fuckbuddy. A nervous laugh escapes your mouth, and you feel your face get hot, but Sukuna grins that irresistible boyish grin at you, looking very smug.

"Then you're really a lucky girl because I plan to keep you warm all night, princess. Come on, I'll show you something."

Sukuna turns you around so you are in front of him and steers you slowly back to the bench, his strong hands resting securely on your hips, holding you, guiding you, every touch of his strong fingers sending the butterflies in your stomach fluttering like crazy.

Sukuna helps you exit the rink, his tall, firm body pressing against your back as he just lifts you off the ice so your feet are dangling a few inches above the ground and carries you to the bench while you giggle and smile.

Sukuna places you on the bench, not seeming to be out of breath at all from carrying you. But he eyes you for a moment with a strange look on his face, almost looking nervous, you think. He blinks and runs a large tattooed hand through his pink hair, averting his gaze and instead getting busy rummaging around in his hockey bag.

You watch him curiously, only to make an "Oooh!" sound when you see the surprise he prepared. Several boxes of his famous homemade snacks, two large thermal mugs, and a warm blanket. The last item Sukuna pulls out of his bag is a glass jar with a candle in it, which he lights and places on the bench one row before you, engulfing your little picnic space in soft, warm candlelight.

Your stomach is doing summersaults by now. All of this is so romantic! It makes you feel completely light-headed with all the thoughts running through your mind. This is what Sukuna planned when he asked you to meet him here at ten in the night? This doesn't feel like a regular ice skating lesson. It feels like a date!

You watch him carefully, feeling a bit shy as the implications of what this could mean fill your chest with giddy hope.

Sukuna grins at you and wraps the warm blanket around you, making things even cozier. And you smile and lean against Sukuna's broad shoulder, thanking him softly when he hands you a thermal mug with steaming hot coffee and a homemade muffin (the ones you told him a few weeks ago are your favorite).

You lift the blanket, telling Sukuna to join you so he stays warm, too. You both sip on your coffee and munch on the muffins, easily slipping into your usual camaraderie, joking around with each other and talking about your day. Sukuna brushes some muffin crumbs off your lips and tells you about his upcoming game and the current topic of his history research. And you lean comfortably against him, smiling when Sukuna wraps his arm around you while you tell him about the book you started reading this morning and the passive-aggressive insults your creative writing professor threw at people today.

You chuckle and sigh softly,

"Thank you for bringing me here. This is the first time today that I haven't felt anxious about my classes and my future."

And Sukuna smirks that hellishly attractive boyish smirk at you,

"Well, I'm glad that I'm providing you the same stress relief that you give me before my games. Look at us being the antidote for each other's stressful lives. We should drink to that."

You both laugh and hold up your thermal cups, clinking them gently, both grinning as you bring the cups to your lips and sip the warm coffee.

You stay like that for a while, leaning against each other under the warm blanket, sitting in comfortable silence while you gaze over the dimly lit ice rink before you. It feels magical.

Your heart is almost beating out of its chest, filled with such yearning that you think you will go insane if you don't do something about it. You slowly turn your head to gaze at Sukuna. Only to realize he is already looking at you. Your breath catches in your throat when your eyes meet his.

You think you can see fear in those beautiful maroon eyes. And you wonder if Sukuna feels the same fear that you feel. The fear of messing this up. The fear of losing what the two of you have. Maybe you aren't the only one who is scared of your feelings.

And yet you are here, just the two of you, in this romantic atmosphere. Not putting distance between you, but spending even more time together. Not running away from your feelings but running, or rather ice skating towards them hand in hand. Your heart flutters hopefully, just when Sukuna's low, velvety voice breaks the silence,

"I always enjoy being with you, no matter what we do. Whether we are talking about hockey or books or studying in the library, or having lunch together, or just talking shit while watching videos on my phone. I have never felt so close to someone before."

You gasp softly at the unexpectedly tender words. Tears well up in your eyes as you look up into Sukuna's eyes,

"I feel the same way. It's like I have always known you."

Sukuna smiles softly. He cups your face, his warm palm resting gently on the side of your neck while his thumb slowly caresses your cheek. A touch so tender as if he is scared to break you or disturb this soft atmosphere while he gazes deeply into your eyes.

You don't think anyone has ever been so gentle with you or looked at you that way. And out of all the people, it is him, it is Sukuna, the rough hockey player, the campus bad boy, who treats you with such gentleness.

"S... Sukuna."

Your voice is thick with unshed tears, but Sukuna shakes his head gently, low voice barely a whisper, raspy but full of tenderness when he says,

"No, let me say something, princess."

You nod, blinking to chase the tears away, and Sukuna continues in his velvety, low voice, his eyes gazing deeply into yours,

"I told you that ice hockey is my life. But that's only half the truth. Lately, you have become my life, too."

He gulps, making his adam's apple bop, and then adds in a soft but sure voice,

"I have never felt this way about someone before, and it scared me shitless when I realized what was happening. So I tried to suppress it. But I don't want to run from this anymore. I don't want to run from you when you are what makes me happy, and then I feel like I can't breathe when I imagine there could be a time when you aren't by my side. I didn't bring you here tonight to teach you ice skating. I brought you here to tell you I fell in love with you."

The whole world seems to stop. Everything around you disappears, and there is only Sukuna and you. Only the boy you love, and you. And everything is so perfect and easy.

Your tears finally spill over and slowly run down your face as you reach out to cup Sukuna's cheeks, too, caressing the tattooed lines on his high cheekbones as you smile at him, finally confessing how you feel about him,

"I'm in love with you, too. And it scared me also. I tried to pretend I didn't like you that way, but then you got injured, and it freaked me out so much, and after that, I couldn't lie to myself anymore. I knew you meant a lot more to me than I had planned. But I didn't want to lose you if you didn't feel the same. So I didn't say anything. I told myself it would be better to have you as a friend with benefits than not having you in my life at all..."

"Come here, princess."

Sukuna wraps his arms around you, pulls you into his lap, and hugs you tightly to him, his lips brushing a tender kiss to your forehead,

"I've never been in a relationship before, but I will work my ass off for this. I want this to work. I want you and me."

For once, there is no teasing smirk on his beautiful face. It's rare to see Sukuna like this, all open and honest with you, not hiding behind a mask. His maroon eyes are earnest, burning with the same fiery ambition he has when it comes to hockey and his studies. It makes your heart throb, seeing how invested he is. Seeing how much he wants to have this with you.

You wrap your arms around Sukuna's neck and lean closer to him,

"That's what I want, too. You and me."

A soft smile plays around Sukuna's lips before he closes the last remaining distance between you and claims your lips in a slow kiss.

You sigh, melting into the kiss and into Sukuna's arms. He takes his time, kissing you slow and deep, making your head spin and the butterflies in your tummy go crazy with each tender flick of his tongue.

It feels like an eternity until both of you pull away, breathing heavily, lips swollen from all the kissing, eyes so soft as you look at each other, both wearing the same perplexed expression as if you both can't believe this is really happening.

You smile at Sukuna so broadly that your cheeks hurt, and he laughs that soft, low laugh and smiles at you, too, brushing a thumb over your grinning cheeks before he puts his hands on your waist and lifts you off his lap, gently placing you on the floor so he can get up, too.

He holds out his hand to you, raising an eyebrow and grinning that sexy boyish grin at you,

"Join me for another round across the rink, princess?"

You nod and take Sukuna's hand, letting him pull you to your feet and against his tall, strong body. You place a hand on his chest, getting on your tiptoes to steal another kiss before Sukuna leads you carefully back onto the ice.

It's different this time. Not so much an ice skating lesson, where Sukuna lets you get a feel for the ice, but rather Sukuna taking the lead, pulling you with him, holding you safely in his embrace, skating across the dimly-lit rink much faster and more graceful than you could ever hope to do on your own.

It's not ice skating, but rather dancing, you realize. One of Sukuna's arms is wrapped safely around your waist, his other hand holding yours, his long tattooed fingers interlaced with yours, as he spins you around on the ice as if you are the Ice King and his Queen, and the hockey arena is your ballroom.

It feels incredible. As if you are weightless and flying across a glittery ice floor surrounded by soft light. You tilt your head back to look up at Sukuna's tattooed face, your gaze meeting his, and you see the smile in his eyes. It's only you and Sukuna. Only you and the boy you love and who loves you, too. Dancing in the nightly hockey arena. Sharing that magical moment in the place that is so important to Sukuna.

You let him spin you around without any fear, trusting him completely, knowing Sukuna will never let you fall. He already proved that the first time you met. He will never let you hit the ground. Those strong arms will always catch you.

You feel more tears run down your cheeks as you look up at Sukuna and smile at him, and he watches you enrapt, his cocky smirk replaced by a soft, wonderous expression.

"Why are you crying, princess?"

"Because I'm happy, baby."

You see how Sukuna's eyes widen at the use of the petname, and then his lips lift in a very happy and amused lopsided smirk,

"Baby? Hmm, I like it when you call me that. Make sure to do it very often from now on."

You chuckle softly as you nod,

"Sure, baby."

A second later, you squeal loudly because Sukuna makes another dance move, dipping you down while smirking his sexy, playful smirk at you. Your squeal turns into loud, breathless laughter that gets muffled by Sukuna's warm lips a second later. And he keeps kissing you, even while continuing to glide gracefully over the ice, not even needing to see anything.

You spend the whole night in the arena, just the two of you, alternating between dancing on the ice while laughing and kissing and sitting on the bench, cuddling under the warm blanket to keep warm while sipping coffee, talking about everything and nothing, joking around teasingly and stealing more kisses. Slow, deep French kisses that make both of you sigh softly into each other's mouth.

You sneak out of the hockey arena with the first hints of the approaching sunrise, walking to Sukuna's dorm while holding hands. You fall exhausted but happy into his bed. Your face comes to rest on Sukuna's buff pecs, your lips smiling against his tattooed skin as he wraps his strong arms around you and hugs you close to his warm, muscular body.

It's perfect. It feels so natural as if Sukuna and you have always been together as if it was always clear that things would lead to this, from the very first meeting in the hallway where you crashed into him, and his hockey reflexes and strong arms saved you from falling, only for both of you to end up falling in a different way. For each other.

THE LOVE CONFESSION 😭💗💗 I am so emotional! This is one of the first scenes I wrote for this AU, and for months, I have been daydreaming about dancing across the rink with Sukuna. Sighhhhhh I hope you liked it, too, and could feel the same magic I felt while writing it!

Also, please listen to the song "Black Coffee" by Nightly. It's the song that I imagine during the scenes in the hockey arena. It's a perfect song to describe Sukuna's and Reader's connection. I love them so much together.

Thank you so much to everyone who is still here reading this story and waiting for updates! It means so much to me that you are on this journey with Sukuna and me 💗💗

I hope the love confession could put a smile on your face!! Comments and reblogs would be very sweet.

In the next chapter, we will see Sukuna and Reader officially dating and making their relationship public. Learning how to move from fuckbuddies to being boyfriend and girlfriend.

[verushkak70]

OK wait: hang on here: let me preface this with: I LOATHE THE REPUBLICAN PARTY - actively, vehemently loathe - always have, always will, never voted Republican, never will, wouldn't if they were the last/only party on earth - because, among many, many other horrible things, Republicans (Reagan & Bush Sr) kept the minimum wage at $3.35/hour for over a decade as COL continued to rise, for years, while minimum wage was what I earned

& furthermore Republicans (Reagan again) cut the minimum wage from $3.35/hour to $2.01/hour specifically for jobs that receive tips - & both of these things occurred while I was a waitress, so I (and millions of single mothers; let's remember Harvey Keitel's lines about tipping in the opening scene of Reservoir Dogs rn, k? because he wasn't wrong) literally had my shit wage cut by more than 1/3 simply because it was a job that generally (not always, trust me on that!) got tipped

& let's remember that Jimmy Carter put solar panels on the White House while he was President

& as soon as Reagan won & moved into the WH, that oil-money-funded piece of shit immediately ripped them down

Not to mention that while other countries were mobilizing national(ized) health services to combat HIV/AIDS when it was killing tons of people in the 80s & 90s, the Republicans blamed homosexuals for getting sick & dying, & Republican presidents wouldn't even address it - including the one whose son was semi-openly gay (Reagan again)

Not to mention that literally since the day Roe v Wade came down Republicans were trying to restrict abortion & working to block/overturn Roe v Wade

To sum up: for those & literally a thousand other crucial reasons, I loathe the Republicans & I always & forever will

But let's also be very, very clear: if the Democratic National Committee had not fucked Bernie Sanders over (twice!) & engineered Hillary to be the de facto candidate for 2016, Donald Trump would never have won the first fucking time & we would not be in this deep shit now

Corporate pollsters hired by DNC did what they do: manufactured consent for Hillary when the public clearly wanted Bernie Sanders instead - an Independent, not actually a Democrat - because they already knew he was not compromised like the Democrats already were

Well, they can lie about & statistically manipulate polls, but the proof was at the ballot boxes on election day: whether or not you agreed with it or liked it (& I did not) the majority of people voting did not want Hillary & did not vote for her - so Dump won

& tbf? I wanted Bernie too! Hillary was only ever the lesser of evils imo for a variety of reasons (one of which was that the Clinton administrations were the most corporatized, Republican version of the Democrats yet, plus NAFTA & GATT was on Clinton's watch, which also fucked over the working class of America)

Let's all just stop pretending - this current Democratic Party? Is not Jimmy Carter's Democratic Party & it hasn't been for a very, very long time

& this Democratic party elite was willing to utterly disregard the will of the majority of American voters to install who they thought "deserved" to win, whose "turn" they thought it should be, for the 2016 Democratic presidential nomination - with utterly predictable results for anyone paying fucking attention

Yet Nancy fucking Pelosi said that abortion was "kind of fading as an issue" in fucking 2017, while she knew the man in the White House was hell bent on pleasing his evangelical "Christian" base by appointing as many right-wing federal judges as possible - jfc, people! wake the fuck up!

Sure, bitch, maybe for your 40-years-post-menopausal ass, "abortion [was] fading as an issue" - but what about young women? Girls?

Rape & incest victims?

Your fucking Democratic principles? - or lack thereof??

Most of us post-menopausal liberal-to-left bitches still actually care about women's rights for everybody! We know not everyone has the power or money to just fly to a blue state & get yourself/your daughter/your granddaughter/your niece/a rape victim/an incest victim an abortion - or throw money &/or power at a red state doctor & get an abortion coded in the medical record as a medically necessary D&C

In fact 2/3+ of Americans believe the decision should be up to the woman or couple facing the choice

How the fuck could Pelosi even think that - let alone say it out loud to a reporter? This is our Democratic leadership??

How? I'll tell you how: Because she already did not care & had the arrogance to think that broadcasting her not-caring would not matter

So - can I make it any fucking clearer that the national Democratic party - all those career politicians like Pelosi who don't even bother to pay lip service to the party line anymore! - do not fucking care about us & haven't for a long time?

I can't say it any better than Bernie himself did: it should come as no surprise that the party that abandoned working class Americans has been abandoned by working class Americans

They abandoned us first

The Democrats did this to themselves & to us

The lesser of two evils is still evil

Stop blaming the abandoned for being abandoned, & then abandoning their abandoners

Were/are people who fell for this orange asshole's populist, racist, misogynistic bullshit idiots? Yes, yes they are!

Were people manipulated by the active efforts - all over every. Single. FUCKING. social media platform - at targeted election interference from Russia & other countries' intelligence agencies & terror groups? Yes, yes they were

Do Americans struggle mightily with understanding how voting & elections work, with critical thinking, & with maintaining a high index of skepticism?

Yes, they clearly do - but no more, I'd say, than the Brits who voted to shoot themselves in both feet with Brexit (& then asked the reporters who explained the consequences to them, on camera, how they could change their vote); or the rest of the multiple European countries who are similarly sliding into neofascism

All the votes that Bernie Sanders would have gotten in 2016 from the majority of independent voters? Went to Dump

Many votes that Sanders would have gotten in 2016 from Democratic voters, if he'd gotten the nomination, also went to Dump

Because - once more, with feeling - The Democrats abandoned us first

Those who abandoned them after they abandoned us? are not to blame for the current situation

So stop fucking saying that they are

[diaryofawhoretbh]

it's too late. | thanos (choi su-bong)

| in which a pregnant girl encounters her ex-boyfriend in a game of survival, for a shot to win some money to pay off their debts.

wc: 1.1k

warnings: none really... just a lot of angst!

NOT proof-read!!

"hey señorita... y/n!"

oh don't tell me that's who i think it is...

i turned around slowly, my heart hammering in my chest. it was like time had frozen for a moment. the moment i had feared, the moment i never expected. there he was.

choi su-bong.

my high-school sweetheart. the boy who once promised me everything. the boy who left when i needed him the most. the boy who broke my heart and disappeared without a trace.

i could hardly breathe as i met his eyes. those same eyes i had fallen in love with at sixteen. the purple hair that was styled but messier than i remembered. the tattoos that covered his hands and his fingers; each one a reminder of who he'd become. the coloured nails, the silver rings that flashed with every movement. that same damn smile; the one that made my heart race, now felt like a dagger lodged in my chest.

"su-bong..." i said, my voice barely above a whisper. the words so heavy with unspoken moments of pain and longing. my hand moved instinctively to rest on my stomach, the one thing that had grown in his absence. but i didn't expect him to notice. why would he? not after everything.

he froze for a moment, as if he didn't know what to do with me. his eyes flickered to my stomach, then quickly shifted away, the confusion creeping into his expression. he looked...lost. like he was seeing me, but not really understanding. i could see the change in him; the same boy i loved at sixteen, but somehow... different. colder.

"you look different," he said slowly, taking a step forward, his voice carrying a touch of hesitation. his eyes searched mine, like he was trying to find the girl he once knew in the woman standing before him. but he didn't get the chance.

"yeah," i replied flatly, trying to keep my composure, my voice colder than i intended. "a lot has changed su-bong."

i wanted him to know how much he had missed, how much he had left. i wanted him to feel the weight of his absence, the pain of being alone when i needed him the most. but i didn't want to show him any weakness. not now. not after everything.

he shifted uncomfortably, like my coldness was making him second-guess himself.

"look i know it's been a while, but we need to talk."

we need to talk? what the fuck. my mind screamed. we've already had this conversation, haven't we? but the words caught in my throat. i couldn't bring myself to say it. not yet. the truth, the pain, it was all so close to the surface, and if i let it out now, it would swallow me whole.

"what do you want, su-bong?" i asked, my voice tight, trying to keep the shaking at bay. "why are you even here?"

his face darkened, the usual cocky swagger replaced by something more... raw. something real. "debt," he said, the word coming out low, reluctant. "i invested everything into crypto. lost it all. i’m here because of my mistakes."

i nodded slowly, the reality of his words sinking in like ice water. "yeah, i know," i muttered bitterly. "i’ve been paying for it too, haven’t i?"

he looked away for a second, but i could see the shame in his eyes. the guilt. it didn’t matter, though. it never mattered before, so why should it matter now?

but then, as if the silence between us wasn’t enough, his eyes flicked down to my stomach. a quick glance, but it was enough. his face went pale, his breath catching in his throat. the shock was instant.

"wait…" he whispered, stepping closer. his voice cracked slightly. "are you-"

i didn’t let him finish. i couldn’t. i felt it welling up inside me—everything i had kept hidden for months. the hurt, the anger, the grief. i pressed my hand to my stomach again, my heart racing as i forced the words out.

"i’m pregnant," i said, my voice barely a whisper, but it felt like it echoed between us. "and it’s yours."

his face went blank. completely blank. like he couldn’t process it. like the words hadn’t even reached him yet. i saw his mouth open, but no sound came out.

i stepped back, keeping my distance, my chest tight. "you weren’t there, su-bong. not when i needed you. not when we needed you."

his expression crumpled, his hands balling into fists at his sides. "i didn’t know," he said hoarsely. "i didn’t know, y/n. i swear."

"you should’ve known," i shot back, my voice cracking despite my efforts to stay composed. "you should’ve been here. but you weren’t. you walked away when i needed you the most."

he took a step closer, but i held up my hand to stop him. "no. don’t come near me."

"i messed up," he said, his voice rough, guilt and regret flooding his words. "i was stupid. i didn’t mean for any of this to happen. i thought… i thought i could fix it. i was trying to make something of myself, but i messed everything up. i messed us up."

"us?" i scoffed, shaking my head. "there was no 'us,' su-bong. there was only you and your damn dreams. your rap career. your crypto, your debts, your selfishness. there was never any 'us' when i needed you. i was alone, and now you think you can just walk back in like nothing happened?"

i felt my hands shaking, my breath coming faster as the anger bubbled up. i wanted to scream. i wanted to cry. but all i could do was stand there, staring at the boy who had left me. the boy who would never understand the weight of what he had done.

"i should’ve been there," he muttered, the words barely a whisper. "but i wasn’t. i’m sorry, y/n."

the words meant nothing anymore. they were hollow. meaningless. he was sorry, but sorry wouldn’t change anything.

"yeah," i said, my voice trembling now. "you should’ve. but you weren’t. and it’s too late."

i took a shaky breath, pushing the tears back. i couldn’t break down in front of him. not now. not after everything.

"you can’t fix this, su-bong," i whispered, the finality in my voice cutting through the space between us. "you can’t fix what’s already broken."

he stood there, staring at me like he didn’t know what to do with himself, with us. i turned away, my heart pounding in my chest. my body felt heavy with the truth i had finally told him.

"i’m done," i said softly, my voice breaking. "you should leave. just go."

without another word, i walked away, leaving him behind.

[hyunjinners]

✧:･ﾟHeartache → Stray Kids x reader ˚₊· ꒰🍃꒱

꒰ 命 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 ꒱┊ during an argument, they raise their voice at you, uttering hurtful words.

꒰ 命 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ꒱┊ maknae line! x fem! reader 

꒰ 命 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄 ꒱┊ discussion, angst, established relationship.

꒰ 命 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ꒱┊ shouting, insults, fights, anxiety, insecurities (on both sides). Any scenarios, names and groups mentioned are pure fiction! Similarities to real events are purely coincidental. × In some scenarios not everyone is an idol. ×

꒰ 命 𝐖.𝐂 ꒱┊ 2,4k

꒰ 命 𝐀/𝐍 ꒱┊ I finally got the inspiration to release the second part of Runaway! If you haven't read the first part, I suggest you go there first :) English is not my first language! I apologize in advance for any spelling and/or grammar mistakes. Let me know if you would like to be added to the taglist. Enjoy reading! ^-^

⊹₊˚ʚ❛masterlist❜ɞ

𝐉𝐈𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆¡!

Jisung has always been in love with you. You’ve known each other since high school and have always had a strong friendship, never caring about unpleasant comments questioning the possibility of a friendship between a man and a woman. Consequently, over time, he fell in love with you more and more each day he spent by your side, but he never confessed, and you never showed that you felt the same because you wanted to hide it at all costs. Jisung was always very popular because of his talents, so you never thought you deserved to date someone as amazing as him.

Time passed, you were both adults, and Jisung ended up debuting as an idol. Even after so many years, he never had the courage to tell you how he felt, so he just suppressed his feelings. After a long time, he got involved with an idol he met during his trainee days. You didn’t know this, as he couldn’t reveal it to the media, but even when he had the opportunity to tell you, he couldn’t muster the courage. Perhaps his deepest feelings held him back.

You were at Jisung's dorm for a movie marathon, taking advantage of his day off. He got up to go to the bathroom, leaving you to choose what you were going to watch. Jisung's phone, which was beside you on the couch, was vibrating desperately. You were never intrusive, but Jisung had never stopped you from touching his things. Thinking it might be one of the boys or even Jisung's staff wanting to warn him about something, you picked up his phone and checked his notifications.

The contact of a woman, with a heart emoji next to her name, lit up the phone screen, with several messages saying she missed him and that she would visit Jisung in his dorm later. You knew you had no right to meddle in Jisung's life, but the fact that he had hidden this from you, even though you were supposedly someone he trusted, hurt you deeply. When he returned, he was confused by the sad expression on your face. “What happened, little one? Are you okay?” He was utterly confused until he noticed his phone in your hands. His expression shifted from concern to irritation in a matter of seconds. “What were you doing?”

“When were you going to tell me, Jisung? Why... I don’t understand. Are you with someone? Why didn’t you tell me? Since when have you become so cowardly as to forget your trust in me?” At this point, you were both standing, staring at each other, your upset expressions obvious. “And since when do I have to give you any explanations, huh?” He didn’t know why he was so angry, but his confused feelings were preventing him from being clear at this moment. “WE’RE FRIENDS, JISUNG! I’m not just anyone you can simply ignore. I care about you too, you idiot.” Despite your raised tone fueled by anger, you tried to explain your feelings, but Jisung just couldn’t hear you at that moment.

“MAYBE IF YOU WEREN’T ACTING LIKE A FANATIC, I COULD HAVE TOLD YOU!” He exploded, gesturing wildly in complete desperation.

Silence. Those three seconds of silence felt like three hours. This chilling silence was broken by your faint sniffles. You raised your hands to hide your tears. Turning away from him, Jisung could tell he felt shattered inside at that moment. Your tears brought him back to his cruel current reality. “Fanatic? I... I’m not a fan of yours, Jisung. To be honest, now I’m just an idiot who trusted you.”

You didn’t bother to grab your jacket; you just ran to the door. As you opened it, you bumped into Jisung's girlfriend. He tried to run after you, but it was already too late. Now, all he could do was cry—not just because of the argument but because the arms that comforted him weren’t the ones he wanted.

𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐗¡!

You had been in a relationship for a little over three years. After Felix proposed to you, you both moved to Busan so you could settle into a calm life before getting married. He was a kindergarten teacher, and you opened a small café near the house you were finishing paying off together. You were the typical cute couple, never having serious fights and always being very happy with each other. Even though the life you both dreamed of was almost finally stable and fulfilled, Felix's family didn’t accept the life he was living. Felix was born with a silver spoon in his mouth, so his family expected him to live like an heir prince; however, he chose to live a quiet life with you, which was clearly reason enough for his family to dislike you.

With only a few months left until the wedding, Felix’s father was making his life a living hell, doing everything he could to make Felix give up on you. For this reason, Felix had been depressed for several days. You didn’t know what was going on, and he didn’t want to tell you so you wouldn’t get upset, which left you increasingly worried about his condition. He wasn’t eating properly, woke up many times in the middle of the night, and always got startled when the phone or the doorbell rang.

During a walk you took on weekends, throughout the entire route, you noticed he was hyperventilating, and every time you asked him about it, he would just force a smile and say it was nothing. When you were on the corner heading back home, you finally mustered the courage to question him. “Felix… please, don’t lie to me.” You grabbed his arm, making him stop. He looked back at you, his expression completely exhausted. “Lie about what? I already told you it’s nothing. Please, leave me alone.”

His tone wasn’t angry—it was more tired. He didn’t want to be so rude, but the pressure his father was putting on him had really messed with his mental health. He freed himself from your weak grip, quickly walking home.

After you entered your small and cozy living room, while Felix was taking off his jacket, you stopped in front of him in another attempt to make him talk.

“Don’t you trust me? Felix, I’m not here to judge you. I’m really, sincerely worried about you.”

He just ignored your desperation, going upstairs to the bathroom. You followed him without a second thought, determined to make him speak. “Love, you can count on me! I—”

“COULD YOU PLEASE STOP?! Please, I’m begging you, let me breathe! Just for a moment.”

He stopped at the top of the stairs, making you stop halfway up. You were startled by the look Felix gave you. He had never, ever, yelled at you. You weren’t angry with him, but it did affect you in some way. Before you could say anything else, you just apologized, walking past him and locking yourself in the bedroom.

He immediately rushed to the bedroom door as soon as you entered, his hand hovering over it, wondering if he should knock or not. He rested his forehead right there, finally allowing himself to cry after holding back for days. He really needed this relationship to work.

He couldn’t live without you.

𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐌𝐈𝐍¡!

Seungmin was the ideal partner from your point of view. He was a surgeon and heir to a hospital franchise, and you were a dermatologist from a family of politicians. People always had high expectations of your relationship: from your family and friends to the media, which saw you as a reference. Seungmin wasn’t exactly the temperamental type of man; to be honest, he always preferred to withdraw from problems until things calmed down so he could resolve the situation clearly and organized. However, the course of the days was draining all his patience and usual calm. The hospital was chaotic, and Seungmin’s father was dumping all his frustrations on his son, leaving him stressed.

Your father met with you earlier during a lunch that was apparently a family gathering but turned out to be another ploy for his threats. There were some problems happening in politics, so he needed some distraction for his troubles, and obviously, your marriage would be the perfect target. He wanted you to announce a pregnancy as soon as possible so that the media could focus on you, giving him time to sweep everything under the rug. You didn’t give your father an answer, saying you would think about it. Seungmin was clearly irritated with him but said nothing.

At this moment, you were lying on your bed, finishing reading your book while waiting for Seungmin to finish changing after taking a long hot shower in an attempt to calm himself down… which didn’t exactly work. He sits next to you, so you close your book, looking into his tired and irritated eyes. “babe…”

“Are you really going to keep going with this?” Seungmin interrupts you, his expression neutral. However, behind his eyes, there’s a clear flame of disappointment and a bit of anger. Not at you, but at this moment, he didn’t care to distinguish where it came from. “What do you mean?” you ask, confused. “You no longer live for yourself. Are you really going to keep doing your father’s will?”

“Seungmin, he just wants what’s best for both of us-”

“HE DOESN’T CARE ABOUT YOU! He never cared and won’t in the future. You’re just a means for him to get rid of the media. Are you really that naïve?”

You look at him dumbfounded, feeling not just sadness but pure shock. Deep down, you knew he was right, but his bluntness truly shook you. You don’t hide your tears but say nothing. You just get up, leaving to God knows where, leaving him behind with a heavy heart. “I’m sorry…”

𝐉𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐈𝐍¡!

You and Jeongin had been trainees for just over a year. You both started around the same time, so you were relatively close… or almost that. For some unknown reason, Jeongin decided that he would hate you to death. From the first time you performed together, he would look you up and down as if he didn’t want you to breathe in the same space as him. What you didn’t know was that Jeongin was hopelessly in love with you, but since this relationship would never be possible if it depended on the company, he masked his feelings with anger, so you wouldn’t get close to him in any way and make the situation worse for him.

JYP prepared a project, a program aimed at presenting the two groups that would debut: the boy group Stray Kids and the girl group M4ya, the group you were part of. During one of the stages, the proposal was to unite the units of each group, with the objective of exploring their talents. As the main vocal of M4ya, you ended up getting the project alongside Seungmin and Jeongin. In the beginning, you were mostly nervous because you never understood his behavior and were afraid you would end up fighting. You trained together for hours, adjusting your vocals while giving and receiving tips from each other.

It was a very important project, since it would be the first time you were doing something independently, without the help of vocal teachers, just relying on your learned abilities. Seungmin was being a great help to you, since, as you were nervous, your voice wasn’t coming out the way you wanted. Maybe a little insecurity was also clouding your mind, so Seungmin offered to help. At the end of the recordings, you politely bowed, thanking him for his help and effort. When Seungmin left, leaving just you and Jeongin, he rolled his eyes at you while speaking calmly, “It doesn’t surprise me that your voice was failing so much. You look like a chicken in the butcher shop before being sold, you’re shaking so much.” You stared at him, this time tired of his teasing.

“You know, I’ve really been ignoring your behavior the whole time I’ve known you, but I would like to know why you’re like this. I never did anything to you!”

“So you think you’re a saint?” He let out a small, disdainful laugh. “No wonder you’re so snobby.”

“Then tell me, Jeongin! WHY? Why do I deserve so much criticism?” He massaged his temples, his voice was irritated at that moment. “WHY CAN’T YOU STOP BEING SO INSECURE?! So, you need that much validation, huh? Spare me.” He laughed, turning his back while fixing his bag, ready to go to the dorm. However, not long after, he stood frozen in place upon hearing your sniffles. You ran your hand over your face, hiding it from Jeongin. You didn’t want to cry in front of him, but you were too sensitive at that moment.

“You know, Jeongin, I shouldn’t justify myself to you, but I’ve always tried my best to get here, and all I hear in return for my effort is criticism after criticism. So, yes, maybe I am a little insecure girl who doesn’t know where to go without validation, just like you said. Just don’t come any closer, please. Leave me alone.” He was shocked, not having processed the situation. He never thought it could come to this point, and now he was agonizing with hatred, surprisingly, for himself. “I messed up so much now.” He crouched on the floor, running his hand through his hair in a desperate attempt to contain his tears of pure frustration.

ε ї з — like × reblog! by: @hyunjinners ❜ɞ

ε ї з — taglist: @oc3anfloor @apple-kiwi

[maypiles]

But I'm very homesick for arms that have never hold me🎀🪞

PICK A PILE: What Do You Need to Hear, What Do You Need to Know?🦢🩰

You guys are not ready for this one, because let me tell you—Spirit decided to wake me up with a Chihiro x Ariana Grande mashup blaring in my head like an alarm clock, and I just knew. This isn’t a coincidence; this is a channeled message, loud and clear. I mean, who else gets spiritual downloads with a side of TikTok trends? Clearly, I’m favored. Anyway, grab your coffee, your crystals, or whatever you need to ground yourself, because today’s reading is about to serve you layers of spicy revelations, unexpected clarity, and a sprinkle of divine chaos (because why not?). If you're feeling hot flashes, dreaming in metaphors, or noticing all the crows in your neighborhood suddenly staring at you like they’ve got something to say—this one’s for you. Let’s get into it, shall we?

❗This is a collective reading so please take what resonates and leave what does not❗ Please be careful of scammers, I'll never reach out to you and ask you for money or personal readings❗

Pile One🦪

My gorgeous Pile 1, let’s talk, because Spirit came in loud with this one—and I mean literally. The crows wouldn’t shut up, the downloads wouldn’t stop, and my body? On fire. Hot flushes, all over, like Spirit turned the heat up to make sure you get this message. So, let’s break it down.

Signs & Synchronicities

Right off the bat, notifications could be huge for you right now—check your messages, your DMs, your emails, whatever. Something important is trying to reach you, and you don’t want to miss it. Chocolate? Perfume? These are connected to sweetness and self-care, but also attraction and indulgence. Are you finally indulging in yourself, Pile 1? Or are you craving something—or someone—that feels just out of reach?

And crows? Let me tell you, they are not just random birds hanging out. They’re messengers, carriers of divine justice, and omens of transformation. If you’ve been hearing or seeing them, this is your wake-up call. Spirit is saying, ‘Listen, babe. We’re talking.’ And that crow sound? It’s sharp, like a reminder to stay alert, to notice what’s unfolding around you. This message has layers, so stay with me.

The Energy—Hot, Spicy, Intense

This whole reading is laced with heat—those hot flushes all over your body? That’s Spirit igniting a fire within you to finally heal. And when I say "heal," I don’t mean just dust off old wounds. No, this is deep, soul-level healing from something that cut you hard and left you spinning. You’ve been carrying this pain for too long, and Spirit is here, loud and unapologetic, telling you it’s time to let it go.

The Cards

Queen of Swords upright with The Star—This is your clarity and your hope. You’re stepping into your truth, cutting through the nonsense, and reclaiming your voice. The Star says healing is happening, but don’t expect it to be gentle. It’s the kind of healing that burns before it soothes. You’re being guided to dream big, even if your dreams seem out of reach right now.

Queen of Swords reversed with Three of Swords—But let’s be real. You’ve been here before, haven’t you? Trying to heal, only to slip back into old cycles. That reversed Queen shows me there’s still some bitterness, some unresolved pain. Spirit is asking you to look directly at your heartbreak without flinching. The Three of Swords is raw, but it’s also a turning point. Acknowledge it, cry over it if you must, but know that it’s not your forever.

Eight of Wands with The Hanged Man—Once you face that pain, things will move fast. Communication, opportunities, and clarity will flood in, but you need to shift your perspective first. The Hanged Man is here to remind you that sometimes, the only way out is through. Let yourself sit with the discomfort—it’s temporary, I promise.

Seven of Swords reversed with Eight of Swords reversed—Oof, someone’s lies or sneaky behavior might have trapped you in your head before. But no more. These cards are about releasing deception, both from others and yourself. Stop lying to yourself about what you want, Pile 1. Stop pretending everything’s fine when you’re screaming inside. You’re freeing yourself from this mental prison, and let me tell you, it’s about damn time.

The Hermit with Knight of Cups—This is where it gets juicy. After all this introspection, someone—or something—new is coming in. The Knight of Cups is a romantic, a dreamer, someone who stirs your heart. Whether it’s a person, a creative project, or an emotional awakening, this is the spark you’ve been waiting for. But it only comes after you’ve done the inner work.

Nine of Pentacles with Five of Swords—You’re stepping into independence and self-worth, but beware of those who might try to sabotage you. The Five of Swords is a warning: not everyone will celebrate your glow-up. Some people are better left in the past.

Ten of Pentacles reversed with Page of Wands—This could indicate a shake-up in your foundation. Maybe it’s family drama, a breakup, or a financial reset. But the Page of Wands reminds you to stay curious and optimistic. New beginnings often feel messy before they feel right.

Knight of Swords with The Devil reversed—Your determination to break free from toxic patterns is unmatched. The Devil reversed says you’re cutting cords, ditching bad habits, and stepping out of cycles that no longer serve you. You’re unstoppable, babe.

Strength reversed with Ace of Cups—Here’s the emotional release. You’ve been holding it together for so long that you’ve forgotten how to let go. The Ace of Cups is your emotional renewal, your fresh start, your permission to feel everything again.

The High Priestess reversed with Queen of Cups—Spirit is saying, ‘Stop doubting yourself.’ Your intuition has been screaming at you, but you’ve been ignoring it. The Queen of Cups is here to remind you of your emotional depth and wisdom. Trust yourself—you already know what’s right for you.

Eight of Pentacles with The Sun—All this hard work you’re putting into yourself? It’s going to pay off in ways you can’t even imagine. The Sun is your ultimate happiness, your reward for all the effort. Keep going; you’re so close.

Five of Cups with Justice—Justice came out right as I was saying, ‘You’re getting your justice.’ Spirit does not play. This is karmic balance, the universe setting things right. Yes, you’ve experienced loss, but it wasn’t in vain. Everything you’ve endured is leading you to this moment of divine justice.

Bottom of the Deck: Temperance—Patience, my love. Healing isn’t a straight line, and balance takes time. But you’re on the right path.

Split Deck: Four of Cups reversed—You’re waking up, finally seeing the opportunities Spirit has been placing in ront of you. Stop dwelling on what didn’t work and focus on what’s possible.

The Message

Pile 1, you’re in the middle of a transformation so profound it’s practically radiating from your cards. You’re healing, releasing, and stepping into your power. Spirit is here, crows and all, to remind you that justice is on your side. Keep pushing through the discomfort—it’s leading you to a life that’s brighter, freer, and more aligned with who you are.

And those notifications? Answer them. Something important is trying to reach you. Stay hot, stay spicy, and stay open to the blessings heading your way.

Pile Two🥀

The Vibe is Magnetic, and Spirit is Dancing With You

Oh, Pile Two. You didn’t just stumble into this reading—you waltzed in, spinning, singing, and twirling with a vibe so contagious it practically leaps off the cards. Let’s talk, because Spirit is loud and clear with this one. There’s a rhythm here, an undeniable flow, and the details? Oh, they’re dripping with significance.

Signs & Synchronicities

Dancing is huge for this pile. Whether you’re on the dance floor or grooving in your kitchen, there’s something about movement and rhythm that feeds your soul. Singing could be just as vital—expressing your voice, your truth, your essence. You might be someone who loves to accessorize—colorful bracelets that jingle with every step, or those stunning braided hairstyles adorned with beads.

The energy here screams personality—vibrant, unapologetic, and undeniably you.

But there’s a competitive streak too, isn’t there? Whether it’s proving yourself to others or loving that rush of pushing boundaries, there’s a fire in you that thrives on standing out and shocking the world. You don’t back down from a challenge—you lean in.

Now, let’s talk about itchiness. An itchy nose, a sudden rash—it’s like your body is reacting to this energy shift. Spirit is saying, “Pay attention!” These physical signs are nudges from the universe, reminders that something big is brewing.

And then there’s the time zone difference. Are you in a long-distance situation? Maybe you’re straddling two worlds—north and south, winter and summer (Timezone difference, Australia mentioned. HELLO?). But what stands out? Spring. A fresh start, a rebirth, a blossoming.

Also, Aries energy is coming in strong—bold, fiery, determined. Maybe it’s in your big three, or perhaps it’s just the vibe you’re stepping into: courageous, unstoppable, and unafraid to take the lead.

The Cards—Breaking It Down

Nine of Wands & The Devil—Let’s start with the tension. You’ve been through the wringer, haven’t you? The Nine of Wands shows resilience—standing tall, even when life keeps throwing curveballs. Paired with The Devil, though, it’s clear there’s something or someone trying to hold you back. Old habits? Toxic patterns? This card combo screams, “Break the chain!” You’re on the verge of freeing yourself from whatever’s been binding you.

Nine of Swords reversed & Five of Pentacles reversed—Here’s the good news: The worst is over. Those sleepless nights, those feelings of lack and abandonment—they’re lifting. You’re stepping out of the shadows, finding your strength again.

Three of Pentacles & Page of Swords reversed—Collaboration is key, but Spirit is warning you: not everyone in your circle has your best interests at heart. The Page of Swords reversed suggests miscommunication or even gossip. Keep your guard up and trust your intuition about who’s really in your corner.

Four of Swords reversed & Queen of Pentacles—You’ve rested long enough. Now, it’s time to get back in the game. The Queen of Pentacles shows you stepping into a nurturing, abundant energy—balancing your hustle with self-care.

The Star & Ten of Pentacles reversed—Hope is your guiding light, but don’t get stuck chasing someone else’s idea of success. The Ten of Pentacles reversed suggests that your “happily ever after” might look different from what you originally envisioned—and that’s okay.

Queen of Cups & Page of Pentacles reversed—Emotionally, you’re in tune, but don’t let small setbacks throw you off course. The Page reversed is a reminder to keep learning, growing, and experimenting without fear of failure.

Seven of Wands reversed & Seven of Cups—You don’t always have to fight. Sometimes, stepping back and reassessing your options (and there are many, trust me) is the best move.

The World & Six of Cups—A cycle is coming to a close, and it’s paving the way for something deeply nostalgic and fulfilling. Whether it’s reconnecting with a person or rediscovering a passion, there’s a sense of coming full circle.

Strength & Judgement—You’re stepping into your power, answering Spirit’s call. This is a rebirth, a reckoning, a chance to redefine yourself. Don’t shy away from the reflection staring back at you.

Knight of Pentacles & Queen of Swords reversed—Slow and steady wins the race, but don’t let impatience or harsh self-criticism derail you. The Knight is reliable, and you’re building something that lasts.

The Bottom of the Deck

The Lovers—Ah, the heart of it all. This is about choices, connections, and alignment. Whether it’s romantic or not, you’re calling in something—or someone—that resonates with your soul.

Split: Nine of Cups & Justice—Wish fulfillment is on the horizon, but Justice says you’ll get exactly what you deserve. This is karma balancing the scales, so trust that what’s coming is meant for you.

The Message

Pile Two, you’re in the middle of a transformation that feels like a dance—sometimes smooth, sometimes chaotic, but always moving forward. Spirit is asking you to embrace your unique rhythm. Let go of what no longer serves you, lean into the things that light you up, and trust that you’re exactly where you’re meant to be.

That Aries energy? It’s your cue to be bold, fearless, and unapologetically you.

Pile Three🎀

Traveling Through Love, Fireworks, and a Deep Connection

There’s something sparkly and electrifying about this pile, isn’t there? You’re stepping into a story that feels like a whirlwind—like packing up everything in your bags and rushing toward an adventure. Travel is on the horizon, either you’re coming back from a trip, or one is definitely in your future. And it’s not just any trip. There’s a sense that this one will change you, shift you into something more you than you’ve been in a while. But it’s not all about the destination. Oh no, this is about the journey—one full of love, fireworks, lace, and that breathless feeling when you know your heart is about to explode.

Signs & Synchronicities

So many things stand out. First of all, broken earbuds or earphones? That’s a message right there. A reminder that some things, or perhaps even relationships, just don’t stay in one piece. They break, but in the breaking, there’s a deeper connection waiting to be made. There’s an underlying theme of things falling apart to make space for something new and beautiful.

And let’s talk about pink. Baby pink specifically. It’s soft, it’s delicate, but it’s also powerful. Maybe you’ve been seeing pink lately—whether in your wardrobe, decor, or in the most random of places. This is an invitation to open your heart, embrace vulnerability, and trust that love is not only possible but waiting for you.

Then there’s the theme of bags—packed bags. You’re not just physically packing up, though; you’re preparing for an emotional journey. Some of you could be making big moves soon, whether in relationships or lifestyle choices. It’s like Spirit is preparing you for something big, and you’re already subconsciously getting ready.

And fireworks—boom. There’s something that’s about to explode into your life in the most magnificent way. Maybe it’s a relationship, maybe it’s a moment of self-discovery. Whatever it is, it’s going to leave you breathless. Lace could also be significant—delicate, but intricate and deeply meaningful, like the threads of connection in your life.

Travel? I know we’ve mentioned it, but there’s something special about it. You could be reconnecting with someone from your past, or maybe you’re about to meet someone who feels like a past life connection. Someone who’s going to be incredibly dear to you.

The Cards—Breaking It Down

King of Wands & The Devil—The energy here is intense, fire-burning, and possibly a little addictive. The King of Wands is bold, confident, and passionate—someone who knows what they want and goes after it. Paired with The Devil, though, it’s clear that there’s a magnetic attraction here. Maybe there’s a person in your life or someone coming in who embodies this energy—a powerful force that could sweep you off your feet. But beware: there’s something about this connection that could be a little...dangerous. Will it lift you up or leave you craving more?

Three of Pentacles reversed & Eight of Pentacles—You’ve been trying to collaborate, work with others, and build something lasting. But right now, it feels like things aren’t coming together as smoothly as you’d like. Don’t let that dishearten you. The Eight of Pentacles is here to say that your hard work will pay off. Maybe it’s time to focus on yourself for a bit—hone your craft, perfect your skills, and let things fall into place.

Nine of Pentacles & The Chariot—Ah, independence and drive. You’re stepping into your power, learning how to stand alone, but there’s also a rush of energy—like a burst of momentum carrying you forward. The Chariot says go. Whatever it is you’ve been hesitating about, it’s time to take the wheel and drive. You’re unstoppable now.

King of Cups reversed & Seven of Cups—The emotional confusion here is palpable. There’s a lot of energy, but not all of it feels grounded. Is there someone who’s emotionally distant or unstable around you? The King of Cups reversed could indicate that someone close to you is struggling with their emotions, and the Seven of Cups adds to the fog, making everything seem unclear. Keep your heart open, but trust your instincts to cut through the illusions.

High Priestess reversed & Seven of Swords—Don’t let secrets or lies stand in the way. The High Priestess reversed is asking you to trust your intuition, but the Seven of Swords is a warning. Someone may not be telling the truth, or you might be withholding a truth from yourself. Pay attention to what’s hidden—whether it’s in a relationship or in your own actions.

Knight of Cups & Queen of Cups—Here comes the love, or at least, the potential for it. The Knight of Cups is a dreamy, romantic energy, and with the Queen of Cups, this is a deeply emotional connection. Someone is about to step forward—perhaps they’re already in your life—who sees you for who you are, someone who feels like home.

Queen of Pentacles & Four of Wands—Stability, home, family—this is what’s on your mind. You’re looking for something grounded, something that feels like it lasts. The Queen of Pentacles is practical and nurturing, and with the Four of Wands, there’s a sense of celebration. Could this be a wedding, a reunion, or a coming together with someone from your past? Whatever it is, it’s building toward something beautiful.

Strength & Ace of Pentacles—You’ve got the strength to make this new beginning happen. The Ace of Pentacles is all about tangible, grounded beginnings—whether it’s love, work, or both. But it’s going to take courage. Do you have the strength to face what’s ahead? I know you do.

Five of Cups reversed & Six of Cups—Letting go of past hurts, emotional releases, and embracing the lessons. The Six of Cups is all about reconnection—could it be that someone from your past, someone who means the world to you, is coming back into your life? Or maybe it’s just a new love that feels like it’s been years in the making.

Three of Cups & Eight of Swords reversed—Celebration and release. The Eight of Swords reversed is a reminder that you are no longer trapped by your thoughts or circumstances. It’s time to embrace joy, to surround yourself with people who lift you up and support you.

Ace of Cups & Page of Wands—A new emotional beginning is coming, and it’s going to ignite that spark in you. The Page of Wands suggests excitement, curiosity, and exploration—there’s a sense of newness in your emotional journey, and it’s one that’s going to set your heart on fire.

Page of Swords reversed & Star—Communication could be a little off, but don’t let that stop you. The Star brings hope, healing, and renewal. Even if things aren’t perfect right now, there’s a beautiful future waiting for you.

Moon reversed & Two of Cups—Truth is coming to light. The Moon reversed uncovers secrets, and the Two of Cups brings balance, a true partnership, or union. This is about clarity in love. Whether it's someone from your past or a new, deep connection, this relationship is unfolding just as it’s meant to.

The Bottom of the Deck

Ace of Wands reversed—There’s a delay in the beginning, but it’s coming. This is a slow burn, not a flash fire. When the Ace of Wands comes in reversed, it’s a reminder that sometimes, the most powerful sparks take time to ignite.

Split: The World—A cycle is coming full circle, and you’re about to experience completion, closure, or a new phase. The world is a powerful card of achievement, success, and finally coming into your own.

The Message

Pile 3, you’re entering a chapter full of excitement, love, and undeniable fireworks. Whether you’re about to reconnect with someone special or embrace a brand-new relationship that feels like fate, the energy is palpable. Love is coming in hot, but it’s not without its twists and turns. This journey will be full of moments that make you feel like you’re traveling the world, discovering pieces of yourself along the way. Stay open, stay grounded, and let the universe unfold its magic for you. You’re ready.

And there you have it, my darlings. Another reading, another wave of energy to sift through. I hope you caught those messages—whether the fireworks, the lace, or the truth that’s just waiting to spill out. Remember, the universe doesn’t speak in straight lines; it whispers through synchronicities, songs stuck in your head, and moments of undeniable connection. Keep your eyes open, your heart even more so, and let things unfold as they should. Until next time, you know where to find me when you need clarity, a nudge, or just a little dose of cosmic truth. Stay fiery, stay fierce, and always keep a little mystery, darling. Xoxo, May.

[sleep-0-deprived]

⋆˚࿔Brahms Heelshire thoughts~!𝜗𝜚˚⋆

Taglist: @asher-is-hotxp @unstab1eperson2 @kimisbunny @yyuinaa @silvern1006

A/N: jus some thoughts N’ personal feels bout one of ma fav boys, N’ written specifically for @creepy141dollie <33

𝜗𝜚—𝜗𝜚—𝜗𝜚—𝜗𝜚—𝜗𝜚—𝜗𝜚—𝜗𝜚—𝜗𝜚—𝜗𝜚—𝜗𝜚—𝜗𝜚—𝜗𝜚—𝜗𝜚—𝜗𝜚—𝜗𝜚—𝜗𝜚

Personally I like thinkin Brahms S’ a big Ol baby, he’s touch starved at’ death N’ when you’re his new baby sitter all he can wonder as’ why’re you a boy? Where’s his nanny at…he’s silent as always creeping through in the walls just watchin the way you do things- he can’t deny how good ya are at all tha domestic stuff, house hubby material S’ what he first thought when he seen ya. You’re a sassy man he can tell that much bout you from the way you scold him and push out your bottom lip when lookin up at him, he doesn’t know how you made it past his old fashioned parents- maybe ya charms work on everyone.

Brahms S’ a total creep, he gives no privacy he stalks ya like a dog, he lurks even when ya ask him not to, he is obsessed all tha time- his infatuation holds no bounds N’ he isn’t afraid T’ watch your most intimate moments in tha shower or when you touch ya’self, Brahms hates when you lecture him, talkin bout how you wont let his cock near you sayin stuff like, “I only reward good boys” even tho knowin you, you’d start T’ feel bad N’ give into him by the end of the night— how could ya not with the way he begs you, his voice cracks N’ you can practically feel his tears behind that porcelain mask.

Bein his babysitter means giving up your life- he’s crazy N’ he’s toxic for you but you can’t bring yourself to leave him…you jus feel bad- he holds you an’ praises you like a god when he wants but he screams N’ throw fits over you when he’s upset— Y’ know you should runaway but you jus can’t- you’re in too far now anyway S’ why even bother to try N’ leave him? Ever since you took that job everything feels cold- the air, Your body N’ it’s all porcelain like, just like his mask. You used T’ love shopping but the most you do is go out into town T’ pick up groceries then ya go back to Brahms…that house has made you isolated from th’ world N’ Brahms doesn’t care at all, he jus wants you to himself.

Brahms is a manipulator, he uses your soft spots to get his ways, he promises all ya wanna hear jus to get you T’ stay. Brahms acts all innocent like he isn’t tha reason for your change in personality N’ he isn’t the reason you’re starting T’ slowly lose that sass, he’s worn ya down into a tired parent like person. Brahms uses his tears T’ wrap you around his finger knowin you can’t resist the way he clings to you like a god, Brahms worships the ground you walk on when you give him what he wants which is to ultimately have you forever.

Brahms S’ pent up all the time, sneakin off into your room when he needs tha love, not Carin bout anything jus getting your shorts down enough T’ shove his dick in ya while you sleepily hiss into the pillows whining bout how he’s bein rough- Brahms whimpers- he try’s ta be quiet but when your hole sucks him back N’ he loses it like a puppy poutin and moaning away on top of you clutching onto you hard while his hips erratically fuck you in ya sheets

Brahms fav position is cowgirl tho it should probably be cowboy W’ you on top- your hand gripping his shoulders working up N’ down taking his cock with ease while his eyes hold contact W’ yours- his breath is shaky N’ he can’t control how weak he feels but somethin bout his fave being covered starin into your soul the whole time has ya buckin down on his cock wildly “please- please, I need you, only you- just you- please” your body melted when those words left his mouth oh so pathetically- how could this be the same man who broke you down? How could he.. before you know it his semen S’ floodin inside you filling ya all full.

[ylangelegy]

like real people do ☢️ seungcheol x reader.

little is known about the apocalypse of 2017. a century later, archivists are now unveiling the relics they found from those who lived through that time.

★ seungcheol x reader.  ★ word count: 2.1k ★ genre: alternate universe: apocalypse, alternate universe: soulmates (the only way for your scars to disappear is when your soulmate kisses them goodbye), angst, romance. ★ warnings: major character death. depictions of death/violence, injuries/scars. established relationship; suggestive scenes but no real smut. set in a fictional apocalyptic world. doubling down on the angst warning; i cannot say with any certainty that this is a happy ending. ★ footnotes: this is part of my follower milestone event. viv gave me an inch (a request for angsty seungcheol) and, in turn, i am giving her a mile (a whole thing instead of just a ficlet). mahal kita, @heartepub! this will be the last hozier brainrot i offer you— for now. + much thanks to @gyubakeries and @tusswrites for beta reading! love you both to the end of the world. ❤️‍🩹

↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺ like real people do by hozier. apocalypse by cigarettes after sex. i know the end by phoebe bridgers. fourth of july by sufjan stevens. interlude: i’m not angry anymore by paramore. atlantis by seafret. end of beginning by djo. nobody’s soldier by hozier.

When the fish started dying, you did not think: This is how the world will end.

Why would you? The decimation of marine mammals and seabirds didn’t make the news. The misguided scientific breakthrough that triggered everything was kept under wraps.

It isn’t until much later, until the damage is irreparable and the Rapture is imminent, that you will realize it. 

The world as you know it is ending— but at least you have Seungcheol.

There’s some cruelty in the timing of it all. The two of you had just moved in with each other, coasting on the honeymoon phase of a long-term couple with a new thing to share. The paint on your apartment’s walls had yet to dry when the government declared a state of national emergency.

Dozens of other countries followed suit not long after, all blaming one thing or the other. Food crises. Social unrest. Cultural collapse. 

“This is crazy,” Seungcheol grumbles. 

The television is playing clips of a hurricane tearing through the Philippines. Extreme weather conditions, the reporters are saying. Due to the rise of CO₂ levels. 

You and Seungcheol are sprawled out on the floor, watching it unfold. The furniture store meant to deliver your couch has delayed shipment until further notice. 

Seungcheol has always been the sulky type, though the expression on his face nowadays has been less of his trademark pout and more of a serious frown. You can feel his growing agitation in the stiff way he holds you, in the set of his eyebrows. 

“It’s crazy,” you agree quietly, resting your hand on his knee in a bid to calm him a bit. “But it’ll pass.” 

Your touch seems to give some sort of reprieve. He rolls his shoulders. He unclenches his jaw. 

“It’ll pass,” he echoes, reaching out to intertwine your fingers. 

Neither of you knew just how wrong you could be. 

April 8, 2017 

Weird times. Cheol knows just how anxious I get when I’m cooped up, so he encouraged me to pick up journaling. I’m not sure how much this will help, but it’s worth a try. 

It’s been a month since everything has essentially gone on ‘lockdown’. The news says that all of this started because researchers wanted to regulate harmful algae. Their genetically engineered virus ended up infecting all algae, and now the majority of phytoplankton are just... dead. 

I don’t know what to write about. Terrible oxygen levels? Seafood costing a fortune? This ‘work from home’ system everyone is trying to figure out? 

I guess I should just write about the good stuff. That way, when I look back on these entries, I can remember something good.

Today, Cheol tried to fix a leaking faucet himself instead of calling for a plumber. We flooded the kitchen floor, and ended up wet from head to toe.

I cooked pasta, called mom and dad on Skype, and watched the latest episode of Santa Clarita Diet. 

Once everything opens up again, Cheol and I have to visit my parents. (And ‘get better screwdrivers’, he claims.) 

When Seungcheol first kissed you, you did not think: This man is my soulmate. 

It had been a clumsy, shy thing, traded way back when the two of you were high schoolers still stealing away from your eagle-eyed parents. Seungcheol liked to wax poetics about how it was perfect even though you know that first kiss was more a clash of teeth than anything. 

You don’t discover the truth of everything until a couple of years into dating. Seungcheol had gotten into playing basketball, and, one evening, you absentmindedly pressed your lips to a scar he had at the bend of his elbow. 

The mark smoothed out instantly. 

Seungcheol had giggled at the development before spending the rest of the night kissing every inch of your skin that he could reach— injured or not. You still think it’s one of your best memories as a couple. 

Kisses that healed scars. You hadn’t believed in the stories yourself until it had happened to you, until you realized how fortunate you were that your soulmate wasn’t halfway across the world or something. No, you had your soulmate, and he was more than willing to kiss away all your wounds. 

You had counted yourself as lucky. You still think you are, even now, as Seungcheol strokes your hair and holds you to his chest in the pitch black darkness of your apartment. 

His voice is quiet and small when he speaks up. “I’m sorry.” 

“What for?” you mutter back. 

“I’m sure this isn’t what you imagined,” he says. “For us moving in together and everything.” 

An amused snort escapes you. Of course that would be your boyfriend’s concern. There’s the rotational power outages and the merciless prices of goods due to inflation, but Seungcheol is worried about your expectations not being met. 

You shift in his hold. The days have been getting warmer and warmer, and the evenings are no exception. Seungcheol has taken to sleeping shirtless. You’re a couple of celsius away from doing the same. 

“It’s not your fault that we decided to move in together for the end times,” you say into the skin of his bare chest. 

He gives the small of your back a light thwack. “What have I said about the apocalypse jokes?” he chides lightly. 

You roll your eyes. He shouldn’t see it in the darkness, but he knows you all too well. “And don’t roll your eyes at me!”

His reprimand draws a short laugh from you. Even that feels like a monumental effort, like it's a waste of good air. 

Seungcheol doesn’t care. He doesn’t care about the two of you waking up in pools of your own sweat, doesn’t care that there are whole government newscasts on how to preserve oxygen in enclosed spaces. 

He holds you like a lifeline and kisses you until you’re breathless. 

“Cheol,” you whine against his mouth, the protest already at the tip of your tongue. The end is near; sex should be the last thing on your mind. 

But then Seungcheol’s fingers toy with the hem of your shirt, and he sounds so, so sweet when he mumbles, “Yes, soulmate?” 

That’s always gotten to you. 

“Unfair,” you groan as you work on shucking off your own clothes. “You’re so unfair.” 

In between giggles, he kisses every part of you. Again, and again, and again. 

June 15, 2017 

Cheol and I are on the run. 

He keeps telling me not to call it that because it supposedly makes us sound like criminals. I think it’s just funny, and God knows I need something to find humor in. 

As badly as I want to say “we have gone through worse before,” that would be a lie. We’re out of our apartment and trying to make our way to some place where there’s better air quality. In the meantime, we’re living out of his car. It’s so funny to me that I’ve started laughing until I’m crying. 

Anyway, the good stuff: Today’s sunset painted the sky purple. We snagged some still-cold cans of Sprite in an abandoned 7-Eleven. Cheol spotted a family of ducks crossing the road, pointed it out, and said “us, soon!”

Us, soon. It feels dangerous to hope, but that’s all I seem to do nowadays. That and being on the run. (Cheol made me strike out that last part, but whatever.) 

When Seungcheol finally admits to you that he is scared, you did not think: This means that things are much, much worse than I thought. 

Maybe because there were bigger concerns, like the car’s blinking fuel warning light and the scratches littering Seungcheol’s arms. Like the fool that he was, he had gone against your well-meaning advice to not look for help. 

He did not return unscathed. 

Your lips are pursed in a thin line as you rip open a Band-Aid. It’s one of the few that the two of you have left, and Seungcheol seems to remember the fact. He reaches out to stop you. 

“Hey, c’mon,” he urges, obviously trying to aim for levity. “You know there’s other ways we can fix me up, right?”

The frown that tugs at your lips shows that you’re still less-than-pleased at his little stunt. 

“Maybe if you didn’t head out in the first place,” you grumble. “We wouldn’t need any of this.” 

Seungcheol looks like he might push back, but seems to decide against it at the last minute. Instead, he wraps his fingers around your wrist and gives you a gentle tug. 

“It won’t happen again.” His tone is edged with remorse, enough to almost convince you. Almost. 

“No more playing hero?” you ask. 

A corner of his lip twitches upward. “No more playing hero,” he concedes before tugging at you again. 

You let him. You move closer into his space until you’re practically in his lap, until you’ve got a better view of the angry red cuts on his skin. 

Tentatively, you press chaste kisses to the injuries. Seungcheol’s hands find purchase at your waist and he tilts his head back, letting you work your magic. He’s quiet as your lips trace over each gash and wound, as you take away all the hurt with the ghost of a kiss. 

After a moment, he mumbles, “Is it bad that I want you right now?” 

“Seungcheol.” 

“Okay, okay.” A beat. “I want you all the time, actually.” 

“Shut up!”

The sound of his laughter fills the car. It’s enough to have you forgetting his murmured confession of fear, the vulnerability that he had tried so quickly to cover up with affection. For a moment, there is nothing else in the world except this, except you, except him. 

September 23, 2017

Is it weird to say that I’m starting to forget what it was like before all of this happened? Cheol is trying to assure me that it’s to be expected, that we’ll all be back to ‘normal’ soon, but I don’t even remember what normal is like anymore. 

I can’t forget. I don’t want to forget. And so here is a small list of things I took for granted: 

The first breeze that tells you winter is coming 

The kindness of people who don’t know you 

The smallest fish in the sea

Date nights with Cheol 

Clean water 

Breakfast

My parents

Cheol says there might be some biodomes ahead. Oxygen-regulated habitats. It sounds like something only the rich can afford. We don’t have a lot left between the two of us, and it’s getting harder to jump from building to building. 

But there’s something waiting for us on the other side— right? There has to be. 

May the best of my todays be the worst of my tomorrows. 

When the gunshot rang out, you did not think: This is it.

Seungcheol never gave you any reason to think that way. He had held your hand as you raided rundown grocery stores. He had positioned himself in front of you when there were stampedes. The world might have been ending, but he was with you.

He was with you even when the strangers you ran into started getting more aggressive. He was with you even when fights would break out over necessities like water and medicine. 

“People are dangerous when they're desperate,” he’d tell you softly— still his rational, kind self even when faced with the worst of mankind.

He was with you. He was kind. He was yours. 

Even when the bullet lodged itself right between his ribs. 

There is not much that you remember after that. 

The people dispersed. The cause of the fight— a can of chicken noodle soup, once your comfort food— lay forgotten on the floor.

The love of your life, staring unblinking at the sky.

When you sink to the ground, you’re moving purely on instinct. Your quivering lips press over his chest, over the red blossoming and staining his shirt. 

You kiss him. Again.

And again. 

And again. 

December 1, 2017

The kisses don’t work on bullet wounds. 

▸ Archivist’s note: The following entries are undated and some portions had been redacted/deemed untranscribable. We are led to believe that the author struggled to cope in the aftermath of their soulmate’s death. For posterity, we have still reprinted their final entries.

You’re so unfair. 

I still want you. 

Things I took for granted: ███████, you, ███████, youyouyou. 

What now? 

My love, it’s only a matter of ███████—

▸ Archivist’s note: Nothing follows.

This concludes our transcribed logs. The full collection can be viewed at the National Museum of Remembrance.

It is our deepest regret that the author is unnamed and that they cannot be properly credited. However, we know of two things with certainty. 

We know of a man named Seungcheol, and we know that he was loved. 

[tobiasdrake]

Protestant Work Ethic.

Culturally, Americans have been brought up to believe that the act of labor is in and of itself a moral virtue. That work is not a means to the end of achieving a material outcome or the end of acquiring compensation, but a means to the end of demonstrating intrinsic virtue and earning your place in Heaven.

The Protestant Work Ethic is very convenient for capitalists, and so business eagerly propagates it. How many times have you heard, "We don't want people who are just gonna clock in, do their forty hours, and then go home. We want people who are motivated to go above and beyond their job duties!"

Why would anybody want to do that? Why would actually want to work unpaid overtime or take on extra responsibilities beyond the scope of their job that they will not be compensated for?

Well, because that's demonstrating the moral virtue of work ethic. Capitalist propaganda promises a slightly different reward. Rather than the Kingdom of Heaven, capitalism dangles the possibility of future promotions and rising through the corporate ranks some day as your incentive to do all that extra work today.

But it's the same. And in a country that's 43% Protestant specifically, it speaks to the values that many American Christians are already raised to believe: That your purpose in being alive is to suffer, to persevere, and through that perseverance, to demonstrate the moral virtue that will earn your way into Heaven.

My dad used to say, "If you have to shovel shit, you go out there and be the best damn shit shoveler they've ever seen. You do that, and you won't be shoveling shit for very long." This, in my experience, is not an opinion that is well-founded in the reality of labor economics. It's just the same ephemeral promise: Work diligently without complaint and one day your labors will be rewarded.

It's the Problem of Evil. Evil must exist because if evil did not exist then good people could not demonstrate their goodness and earn their place in Heaven. So the goal must never be to eliminate evil. A lot of people don't understand why you would even want that. If we didn't have poverty then how would we have charity?

In the same way, Americans are raised to be grateful to their capitalist overlords for bestowing on them the opportunity to thanklessly demonstrate work ethic.

This is why Americans get more pissy about "stealing jobs" and "automation" and "globalization" than they do about wage theft and anti-labor practices. The implicit contract between the classes is not that the underclass will do work and the upper class will pay them for it. It's that the upper class will provide the underclass with opportunities to demonstrate work ethic, and the underclass will compensate the upper class for it.

To many Americans, they are not paying us for our labor. We are paying them for providing us with jobs. And when those jobs are taken away from us, we get upset. We don't want a society where we all live comfortably and don't have to work, because having opportunities to do work is the sole purpose of the economy in the eyes of many Americans.

This is also why Americans see a robust system of welfare as enabling moral failure. If demonstrating work ethic gives you value as a human being, then what does that say about people who aren't working? Why should my tax dollars got to support people who are, by definition, demonstrating immorality by not working? Am I to reimburse gamblers who blew all their money on poker chips next?

Do note that, like many things, racism is also a key player in all this. Demonizing people for failing to demonstrate work ethic has its roots in rich white people furious that their slaves would desire freedom over working in their plantations. Blasting the underclass as "lazy" if they don't want to do slave labor is a tale older than United States history.

But it's all interconnected. The intermarriage of the Protestant Work Ethic and capitalist interests has woven a wide net over the way Americans think about the economy and labor.