#followed me all the way across the pond

[pastrygeckos]

Yes, she's spoiled. But I mean, look at her. She deserves it!

[pepprs]

i think i need to go back to br*ghton and get my phd there im going to be SICK

[whocaresstillthelouvre]

Fifteen Months

Din Djarin x Cam Girl Reader AU

Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI)  Summary: You've known and loved Din for Fifteen Months. Here's a glimpse into your life with him. Warnings: Smut, unprotected p in v sex , oral (m and f receiving), fingering, voyeurism, fucking on camera, cum eating, lap dance, sex work, din carries you, duck pond emotions, a spray painted mandalorian helmet, goats!, farm life. Words: 8,700

Fifteen Masterlist Masterlist

—-

“Morning,” a rumbly voice says against your forehead with a kiss. “We have two new kids.”

Your eyes open wide, your heart leaping with excitement as you jump out of bed quickly. Din hastily backs away with a grin on his face.

“She had them?!” you ask as you pull on a pair of pants and grab your robe.

“She did. She’s doing good,” he says, smiling at your excitement. “The babies are healthy and happy, already nursing and everything.”

You run down the steps, Grogu at your feet. Boba’s waiting at the front door, standing guard, his tail wagging in greeting when he sees you.

Din leans over and kisses you as you throw your jacket on and step into your boots.

“Oh, good morning, by the way,” you chuckle as you throw the door open and feel the early morning chill of spring in the air.

You wrap your jacket tighter around you, your boots squishing in the dewy grass as you follow Din to the little shelter on the side of the main goat pin.

Dorothy looks up at the sound of the gate creaking. Your favorite goat looks peaceful as her two new babies are cuddled close to her.

“Hi, sweet girl,” you coo, softly stepping towards her before kneeling down to pet her head. “Look at your babies. They’re perfect.”

“Were you up all night with her?” you turn and ask Din.

“Just about,” he yawns.

“You could have come and got me,” you say, rising and dusting the straw off your knees.

“I wanted you to get some sleep,” he replies, his eyes heavy with fatigue but a little brightness, too. “Besides, I wanted to surprise you.”

Din steps closer, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind, pulling you back against him.

“They’re so perfect,” you muse, watching the little kids stand on wobbly legs and find their footing in the new world.

“They are,” he admires, tightening his hold. “Cobb’s on his way. He’s going to take care of everything since I was up all night.” 

—-

As the weeks turned to months together, the long-distance from Din almost became unbearable, it kept getting harder and harder to leave Din and his farm every time you’d visit him.

So, you sold the townhouse you had worked hard to pay for on your own and moved across the country to live with Din. The idea of being separated any longer had become too much to bear, so you left behind all that was familiar to be with him.

That was five months ago. Dorothy, your favorite goat, started showing signs of her pregnancy only a couple of weeks after you moved in.

Wicket the rooster's crow is now your alarm clock, waking you up every morning in Din's arms, his handsome face only inches away. It’s hard to pull yourself away from his warm arms and soft lips, but the farm chores are waiting for both of you.

Together, you tend to the herd, milking the nannies and bottle-feeding the playful kids who frolic in the pasture. Din's gentle patience for you and all of his animals never fails to fill your heart with love.

During the afternoons, while Din takes care of the farm repairs and building projects, you tend to the garden–your hands buried in the rich soil as you plant and nurture fruits and vegetables that will eventually grace your table.

Evenings are spent in cozy domesticity with Din and your dogs, curling up next to him on the porch swing to watch the sunset paint the sky as Din’s fingers caress your skin.

At night, after all the chores are done, you still do your webcam shows, but no longer for private customers–a decision you made on your own once you left Din’s home the first time.

Din always helps you set up the equipment and watches off-camera, his heated gaze watching your every move.

You’ve embraced Din, his farm, and his life—much like he embraced you and your choice of career. You could never imagine your life without him. This life, with its simplicity and authenticity, is everything you never knew you needed, a blissful escape from the hectic pace and superficial trappings of your old life.

And you couldn't be more grateful for it all.

—-

“Din,” you whisper in his ear and leave a kiss against his cheek. “Cobb just left. It’s almost time for my show.”

Big brown eyes blink open, a smile lights his tired face.

“Hey,” he yawns. “Can’t believe I slept that long.” His hand reaches out and grabs your hip, pulling you into bed with him. His stubble scrapes against your skin as he rolls you onto your back and kisses you. His hands run along your body, slipping under your shirt to caress your soft skin. You melt into his touch, fingers tangling in his messy curls, and you sigh against his lips.

He trails kisses along your jaw down to your neck, his tongue tracing lazy patterns on your skin. You can’t resist him, arching into him, your legs wrapping around his hips to pull him closer. His broad body covers you like a warm blanket.

His hand slides lower, hooking into the waistband of your pants. Just as he starts to tug them down, you very reluctantly break the kiss.

“Hold up,” you pant, struggling to catch your breath. “Ugh, the show…”

He groans, burying his face in the crook of your neck. “I knooow,” he grumbles.

You laugh softly, soothingly running your fingers through his hair. “Want to help me tonight?”

He lifts his head, an eager and mischievous glint in his eyes. “I do.”

“You want to pick what I wear?”

Without a word, he rolls off you and strides over to the dresser, rifling through your collection of lingerie. After a moment of deliberation with his eyes studying two different bodysuits, he puts them away and grabs the same blush pink lingerie you wore the first night he and you slept together.

“Really?” you arch up an eyebrow. “That one?”

“Call me sentimental,” he smirks. Tossing you the soft, silk outfit. “Put it on pretty girl.”

“Sentimental, huh?” You grin as you shed your clothes, Din’s eyes darkening as he follows your every move.

The silk slides over your skin as you remember the first night you stayed with Din - the nerves, his declaration of love, the tenderness of his touch, and the realization that he meant everything to you.

You smooth your hands over the fabric, straightening the straps and admiring how it fits.

“Beautiful,” he whispers.

You heat under his intense gaze. “Come on, we need to set up,” you say, grabbing his hand and leading him to your studio.

—-

You’ve noticed a change in Din since you moved in with him. He’s no longer the solitary man—quiet, reserved, and focused solely on his work. As your love blossomed and you grew closer, he began smiling more readily and laughing more freely, his eyes always sparkling at the sight of you.

He used to be guarded—even a bit gruff—but soon, you saw beneath that exterior, sensing a tender heart. Now, you see that tender heart every day. The way he gently cradles a newborn kid in his strong hands. The way he kneels down on the floor to pet and hug his dogs every morning. The way he always makes your tea the exact way you like it every evening.

He’s actually playful, sometimes chasing you across the house before capturing you and ‘attacking you’ with his mouth, or dipping you for a kiss in the middle of the kitchen.

Sometimes he’ll surprise you while you’re outside hanging laundry, sneaking up and wrapping his arms around your waist before gently tackling you onto the grass. His strong arms enveloping you as he pins you beneath him, his eyes twinkling with love.

“Caught you,” he rumbles before pressing his lips to yours.

You love seeing him like this, happy and carefree. He was once your customer in a dark box, just a curious stranger, and now he’s everything to you.

—-

You check the lighting and adjust the camera tripod while Din settles into his usual spot just out of frame, putting on a pair of headphones, close enough to be heard but not seen.

You take your familiar position on the bed, knees bent to your side, with one hand supporting your weight as you lean back. As you pout your lips and adjust the strap on your top, you nod at Din, signaling that you're good to start.

“Ready?” he asks, his finger hovering over the button to start the stream.

Taking a deep breath, you slip into your online persona. “Ready.”

The red light blinks on and you smile at the camera. “Hi everyone, thanks for joining me tonight…”

As you interact with your audience, you can feel Din’s eyes on you. You steal glances at him between poses, noticing how his breathing quickens whenever you arch your back or run your hands along your thighs.

“What should I do next?” Your question is directed at your viewers and yet you know Din can tell you’re asking him.

He grins, lifting his hand into view, his finger curling in a beckoning motion.

“Yeah? You want me closer?” you purr. The chat explodes with messages of excitement.

You lean forward and crawl slowly towards the camera, risking a glance at Din, sitting in his chair shrouded in darkness, his brown eyes turning almost black when you wink at him.

Your hands trail sensually over the silk fabric of your tank top. “What should I take off first?” you ask temptingly.

“The top,” Din’s voice rumbles from off-camera. “Slowly.”

A shiver flows through your body at Din’s voice, this is the first time he’s ever spoken while you’re performing. You reach for the buttons on your shirt, teasingly undoing them one by one. The silk falling open to reveal your bare skin underneath.

The chat goes wild.

“Like this?” you ask, shrugging the garment off your shoulders and letting it fall to the mattress.

“Perfect,” he growls. You can see him palming himself through his sweatpants out of the corner of your eye.

You bite your lip, fighting every urge inside you to look directly at Din. The camera and your customers demand your attention, but you can only feel his eyes on you.

“What next?” you ask breathily.

Din’s voice husks through the air. “Touch yourself,” he commands in a low tone. “Slowly.”

Your hands slide down your body, tracing delicate patterns across your stomach before dipping lower. The silk of your shorts feels smooth against your hand as you tease and rub yourself through the fabric.

“Feels so good, when your hands are all over me,” you moan into the camera. “Feel how wet you make me? I’m so fucking soaked for you baby.”

Din grunts from the darkness as you arch your back and press your breasts together.

“Should I take these off?” you ask, pushing down the waistband of your shorts.

The chat dings with responses, but you wait for Din’s command.

“Yes,” breathes out from his lips.

You slide the shorts down inch by inch and toss them playfully towards Din’s direction before spreading your legs wide, your hand slipping between them, stroking yourself slowly. You moan as you work your fingers in small circles, your hips rocking against your hand.

You hear Din’s breathing grow heavier.

“Mm, it feels so good,” you purr. “But chat… do you think I should have some help?”

He leans forward, his brows rising in surprise. You’ve never asked Din to join in your cam sessions before, but seeing him in the background, watching you every time has become too much. You want him to be a part of it now.

Your audience sends a wave of thumbs ups and enthusiastic messages.

“Baby,” you say breathlessly, “come here.”

He hesitates for a moment before standing up and moving to the side of the bed, just out of frame. His brown eyes are wide with surprise and desire as he reaches his hand out towards you. The chat goes wild as his hand comes into view on camera, trailing up your leg.

His touch is warm and reverent as his fingertips finally brush against your wet folds. “That’s it, touch me,” you moan, relishing in the feel of Din as your customers watch.

His fingers explore you slowly, spreading your wetness and tracing lazy, soft circles around your clit. You lock eyes with him as he slips a finger inside you, momentarily forgetting about the hundreds of viewers on the monitor.

Din nods his head towards the screen, reminding you that you’re at work. You look back at the camera, as Din slowly fucks you with his thick finger.

“Fuck, you feel so good inside me,” you pant for your viewers, losing yourself in Din’s touch. His thumb finds your clit, brushing softly against it. “Just like that.”

He smirks as he watches you unravel beneath his touch. Your back arching as you push your breasts together and tug at your nipples.

“More,” you gasp between moans, your body beginning to tremble as the chat goes crazy watching you lose yourself under Din’s touch.

He responds immediately, adding another finger and stretching you. “You’re so fucking beautiful like this,” he says, his voice thick with lust.

Your hips lift to meet his hand, seeking more pressure, grinding your pussy against his palm. "Talk to me baby, they want to hear you talk to me,” you beg.

His brows furrow in thought, his thumb brushing circles against your clit while his fingers fuck you deeper. “Let it go baby. You’re gorgeous, you like my fingers?”

“Yes, god yes,” you moan as his hand worships your cunt.

“Cum for me baby, show them how I can make you cum.”

“Oh god,” you cry out, your head falling back onto the mattress as you surrender to his touch, breathing hard as your hips cant against him. “I want you,” you beg, leaving the thoughts of your hundreds of viewers behind.

“I’ll give you what you want soon enough,” he promises. “Keep going for them.”

The pressure is building within you, your heart racing and when Din angles his fingers up, that familiar heat pools in your core, every nerve ending dancing and tingling across you.

“Gonna—” you whimper.

“Just a little longer,” he urges, his voice low. “I want them to see how much I love making you feel this way.”

You nod, breathless, your body set alight. You can hear the distant sound of notifications and gifts pinging from the chat, but all you can focus on is Din and his thick fingers.

"I'm so close," you gasp as his thumb presses firmly against your clit. He quickens his pace, fingers moving faster and deeper until your body can't take it anymore.

“Good girl,” he praises. “Cum. Cum for them.”

Din pilots you closer to your peak. Your thighs quaking around his hand, your cunt clenching his fingers as your body begins its ascent towards bliss.

“Oh god,” you moan.

“Cum for me baby,” he growls. “Let go.”

The world explodes around you, stars floating through your eyes as your entire body convulses. Your breath hitching, the world narrowing to just you and Din as you orgasm, gone are your viewers, gone are the dings from the speakers.

“That’s it baby,” he coos. “Look at how fucking beautiful you are. You’re so fucking gorgeous when you cum.”

Your body trembles in the aftershocks as he brings his soaked fingers to his lips, eagerly tasting you. Only you can see how his eyes close in pleasure as he licks his fingers clean.

“You did so good for me—and them,” he praises, his own breathing ragged as he pulls down his sweatpants.

"Thanks for tuning in chat, now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go get fucked by my helper,” you say winking before clicking the DISCONNECT button.

Din pounces on you, pinning you to the bed with his muscular body. "Be careful!" you yell. “The equipment!”

Din grins widely as he kisses you. “Don’t worry about the equipment, I’ll set it back up later,” he growls against your lips. “Right now, I’m going to take care of you.”

With one smooth motion, he flips you over onto your stomach. You gasp in surprise as his strong hands grip your hips, pulling you up onto your hands and knees.

He kneels behind you, his hardness pressing against the cleft of your ass. You moan and push back against him, wanting to feel more of him. He chuckles at your eagerness and gives your ass a playful smack that makes you yelp.

“Guess you liked helping me?” you breathily ask.

“I did,” he runs his hand down your spine. “You want my help again?”

“Always,” you breathe, arching your back to present yourself to him.

He groans at the sight of your glistening pussy, swollen with desire for only him. He leans down, placing a tender kiss at the base of your spine. “Look at you, all ready for me, pretty girl.”

His strong thighs brush against yours as he lines himself up with your aching cunt. The broad head of his cock teases your folds as he coats himself in your slick. You moan and push your hips back as you try to take him in.

His hands grip your hips, holding you in place as your pussy accepts him into your tight heat inch by inch.

He sheathes himself fully inside you, filling and completing you. A low groan rumbles from DIn’s chest as he bottoms out inside you, his hips flush against your ass. “You feel incredible,” he rasps, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips.

“I’m yours."

“Yeah? You’re mine? This tight, wet pussy is all for me?” He leans over you, his chest pressing against your back as he nuzzles into your neck. His stubble scrapes across the sensitive skin. “Mine,” he hisses possessively. “My beautiful girl.”

He fucks into you faster and harder, the bed you use to touch yourself for your customers now creaking and thudding against the wall from Din’s power. You fist your hands in the sheets, holding on as Din pounds into you. You feel another orgasm in your orbit, the stars beginning to show behind your eyes.

“I’m close,” you whimper. “Don’t stop.”

“Never,” Din pants. “I’ll never stop loving you, taking care of you, making you feel this good…”

His words makes your orgasm rocket through you, your pussy clenching rhythmically around Din’s cock as you see a galaxy across your eyelids.

Din keeps thrusting, grunting with exertion as he fucks your soaked cunt, chasing his own release.

“Fill me with your cum,” you urge breathlessly.

“Fuck, I love you. I’m gonna—” his hips stutter and with a deep thrust, he buries himself inside you. A warrior’s moan tears from his throat as his cock pulses, painting your walls with his cum.

Your arms give out, and you collapse onto the bed, Din follows you, lying down next to you. The two of you lay together, panting for air, a tangle of sweaty and sated limbs. Din wraps his arms around you, pulling you close against his heaving chest. You nuzzle into his neck, planting soft kisses along his jaw.

"That was amazing," you murmur. "Having you with me on camera like that. God, it was so hot."

"Mm, it was," he agrees, his voice a low rumble.

"Maybe we should make it a regular thing. I'm sure my viewers would love it."

“As long as I don’t have to show my face, I’d love nothing more. I love watching you, but being able to touch you in front of your audience. I can’t believe I used to be one of your customers.”

You chuckle softly, snuggling closer against him. "And now look at us. I know way more about goats than I ever thought possible and you know way more about live streaming sex shows than you ever thought possible.”

He laughs and tilts his head down to leave a kiss against your forehead. “I never imagined I could be this happy. This farm feels like a real home now, with you here.”

“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

—-

As the warm, late spring weather rolls in, your days on the farm become even busier. The goat kids are growing bigger and braver, exploring more of their surroundings each day. Your nights are spent performing shows for your many viewers, the addition of Din’s hands and voice have driven you watcher views up. You both notice more gifts and chat messages from female viewers, it empowers the two of you to put on even more of a show for them. With a bit of ingenuity and a can of silver spray paint, you’ve come up with the perfect solution for him to not show his face.

Din sits in his office, going over invoices and the calendar as you saunter in wearing one of your favorite dresses.

"Din," you catch his attention.

He turns in his chair, an adoring smile lighting slowly spreads across his lips. "Yeah baby?"

“I thought of a solution for you to not show your face,” you say with a small smile. “Close your eyes.” 

He tilts his head and raises an eyebrow, giving you a curious look before he obeys and shuts his eyes.

You quickly open the closet and pull out the surprise, placing it in his hands.

“Okay, open now.”

He opens his eyes to find a silver helmet in his hands.

“So, that one dude you like from that space movie? I ordered one of his helmets…”

He admires it, turning it in his hand.

“The bounty hunter “ he muses quietly. "My favorite."

“I was worried about copyright soooo I painted it silver instead. But this way… you can be on camera with me without anyone seeing your face.”

His dark brown eyes look up at you, a wicked smile spreading across his lips. 

“Put it on Din.”

His handsome face is slowly covered by the silver helmet.

“It even modulates your voice a bit…”

Din sits clad in his black sweat pants and black t shirt now with the silver helmet atop his head, making him look even larger and more intimidating. His shoulders sit higher, giving off an aura of power and dominance.

“How’s it feel?” you ask, staring at your bounty hunter disguised boyfriend.

“Good, just fine” his voice comes out different from the speaker. A little more tinny, crinkling with feedback—just like how you first heard him through your computer speakers. You’re ridiculously turned on by it. 

“You look… good," you admire. “Really good baby.”

His posture shifts as he leans back, resembling a king with the helmet on… like it was made for him.

"Then, come show me how good I look, pretty girl."

You saunter over and kneel down in front of him, placing your hands on his knees slowly sliding them up his strong thighs as you look up at the expressionless helmet. Your heart races, imagining his eyes watching you behind the visor.

“Is this what you want?” you ask, fingertips grazing the growing bulge in his sweatpants.

“You know exactly what I want,” Din’s modulated voice responds, sending goosebumps across your skin.

You lean forward, nuzzling your face and placing a kiss against the softness of his inner thigh. Your hands move to the waistband of his pants. “May I?,” you ask, tugging gently. He lifts his hips, helping you slide them down.

His cock springs free. Your hands wrap around the base before you give it a firm stroke as you look up at the helmet.

“I love how you look in this,” you muse, before leaning into give the tip of it a kiss. “My bounty hunter.”

The sound of Din’s breath hitching is distorted through the helmet’s speaker. Slowly, you take him into your mouth, savoring the familiar taste of him on your tongue.

You hum around his cock at his praise, taking him deeper into your mouth. You know exactly how he looks under the helmet now. No longer your black square mystery. You can picture his eyes squeezed shut, his bottom lip captured in his teeth, the middle of his eyebrows creased in pleasure.

“Fuck,” he grunts. The modulator gives his voice an extra edge, an extra growl.

Your tongue swirls around his sensitive head already leaking for you, imparting the bitter, salty taste of him against your lips.

“Look at me,” he softly commands.

Your gaze lifts to meet the dark visor of the helmet, imagining the deep brown eyes behind it.

“That’s my pretty girl,” you can hear the smile in his voice.

Your cheeks hollow as you suck him harder, his hips softly thrusting into your mouth.

“So good,” his voice crackles through the speaker. “Always so good to me.”

You take him deeper, choking on the length of him as you relax your throat. His breathing grows heavier, punctuated by grunts of pleasure and your name.

“Hold on, hold on,” Din says suddenly, gently pulling you off him. “Come here baby.”

He helps you rise to your feet, before pulling you onto his lap, your chest meets his. His strong arms wrap around you.

You straddle his lap, the heft of his hard cock presses against you through the thin fabric of your panties. His hands roam across your body, caressing you with reverence and adoration. The cool metal of his helmet brushes against your cheek as he leans in close to you.

“I want to feel you,” Din’s modulated voice rumbles through you.

You nod, lifting your hips as he hooks his fingers into the waistband of your underwear, pulling them down in a swift motion and tossing them aside.

A gasp leaves your lips as you sink down on him. You begin to move on him, rolling your hips in steady waves. Your hands grab his broad shoulders, relishing in the warmth of his body.

His voice comes low and husky through the helmet. “Take what you want pretty girl.”

“You feel so good,” you moan. “So big inside me. Just perfect baby.”

Din’s hips thrust up to meet you, his cock hitting deeper inside you.

“Din,” you moan, resting your forehead against the cool metal of his helmet. The rapid beat of his heart thuds against your hands when you place them on his chest. Pulling back, you look into the helmet, unable to see his face, but knowing the exact intense look of concentration he always has when he’s close.

He slides his hand between your bodies, and finds your clit, swirling it in sweet circles against it. A gasp escapes your lips and you smile at the pleasure coursing through you. Your hips instinctively buck against his hand, craving more of him. The pressure builds as his thick cock and skilled finger make you move more frantic. Your hands move up his neck to grip the base of his helmet.

“I…want to kiss you,” you whimper as you lift the helmet, exposing his handsome face.

The sweat across his dewy skin makes it glow even more golden. His plush lips are slightly parted as he looks at you with his big brown eyes. Leaning in to kiss him, the helmet slips from your hand and lands on the floor with a thud.

God, you’ve missed seeing him. Your fingers tangle into the soft, dark curls of his hair as you lean forward. “I love you,” you breathe out against his chin, kissing your way down to his neck, licking the slight salt of his sweat and tasting him.

Din's thumb increases its pressure on your clit as he thrusts up harder into you. "I love you, so much," he pants, his voice rumbling against you with desire and adoration.

Your core tightens, the familiar tingle that only Din can give you washes over your body. You trail your tongue up to his mouth and kiss him hungrily.

"Din," you gasp, breaking the kiss as your orgasm lights through your body. Shuddering in his arms, clenching around his thick cock. You lean back, letting him fuck into your slickness as your muscles grow loose.

With a guttural groan, he thrusts his hips against you, his movements stuttering as he follows you over the edge. His thick cock pulsing inside of your walls as he cums. You feel his warm breath on your neck as he buries his face in the crook of it.

For a moment, you both stay still, basking in the afterglow of your orgasms and trying to catching your breath. Din's hand runs soothingly up and down your back as you come down from your high.

"You're incredible," he murmurs, voice thick with reverence and awe. "I don't know what I did to deserve you."

"I'm the lucky one," you whisper back, reaching up to cup his jaw. "You've given me everything I never knew I needed.”

“Maybe I should wear the helmet—for your next show?” he asks, his eyebrow tilting up.

“I think you should,” you smile, guiding his face down to yours, capturing his lips in a slow, deep kiss. “I’ll let the fans know to expect something different.”

��-

As the weeks pass, you notice Din spending more evenings out in the old barn on the edge of the property. He always kisses you sweetly before heading out, promising he won't be long. But the hours stretch on, and on some nights, he’s out there long past bedtime.

Curiosity gnaws at you, but you respect his wishes to let his trips to the barn remain a mystery.

One night, as you’re sitting at the kitchen table drinking a cup of tea and splitting corn bread with Grogu, Din returns through the back door with Boba happily trotting behind him.

“Welcome home,” you wink, standing to pour him a cup of tea.

“Mm,” he hums happily.

“Am I ever going to find out what you’re doing out there?”

“You’ll see soon enough, pretty girl,” he assures with a dimple deepening grin.

He steps behind you wrapping his arms around your waist as you pour him a cup. He nuzzles into your neck peppering your skin with soft kisses.

“Be careful,” you order, “the tea is hot.”

“Mm,” he tugs on your shoulder, turning you to face him. “I no longer want the tea.”

He grabs your ass, lifting you up into his hold. Your surprised yelp echoes through the room as you quickly wrap your legs around his waist for support.

“Din! What are you doing?” you giggle breathlessly.

He strides to the kitchen island, carrying you in his arms like a prized bounty and places you atop the cool butcher block.

“I want a taste of you,” he grins roguishly. His large hands skim up your thighs, bunching up the fabric of your dress.

“Oh god,” you roll your eyes. “You’re ridic—”

Your breath hitches as his hand reaches the apex of your thighs.

“No panties, huh? Were you waiting for me, pretty girl?” he asks, his finger tracing lightly along your bare skin, finding you already wet for him.

“Always,” you breathe.

He sinks to his knees before you, spreading your thighs wide and hooking your legs over his broad shoulders. His stubble scratches against your inner thighs as he nuzzles closer to your core. The cool wood and his warm touch sends a shiver through your body.

You gasp at the first touch of his tongue against your sensitive clit. He works his way around it with slow, deliberate licks and kisses, gently sucking and pulsing his tongue.

You moan loudly, tangling your fingers into his dark hair. He hums with appreciation against your skin as you pull the soft waves, urging him on. He laps at your arousal, drinking down the wetness you spill for him.

You press yourself harder against his eager mouth, he devours you, his thick tongue delving in and out of your eager cunt.

“Fuck,” you whimper. “Oh my god.”

Your muscles begin to tense, your thighs begin to quake. Din’s tongue works tirelessly again your cunt.

“Close,” you gasp, your hips rolling against his face.

He groans as his tongue journeys up to your clit before flicking it rapidly against you. Two of his fingers slide into you, the stretch of them and the slow drag in which he pulls them in and out of you transports your orgasm higher. The familiar galaxy of stars Din always brings you twinkle behind your eyelids as you pulse against his fingers and tongue.

You fall apart atop the cool wood, with Din’s hot mouth against you working you through your orgasm, lapping up every drop you give him.

Your fingers comb through his soft hair, massaging his scalp with affection as he places soft kisses along your thighs.

“My tea’s probably cold by now.” he says, rising from between your legs and giving you a kiss. “Guess we should just take this to bed, huh?”

You chuckle breathlessly. “It’ll be a hell of a lot softer on my back than the countertop I can vegetables on.”

A wide smile spreads across his face as he lifts you up into his arms and carries you upstairs.

—-

“Ready for this?” You ask, holding the helmet out to him.

“I am,” he nods.

“I love you.”

He leans in, giving you a kiss before raising the helmet up to his head. “I love you too.”

Din sits on the chair, clad in his new helmet and his black sweatpants, his muscular, golden chest on full display for you, and soon, your viewers.

You hit the link to your show’s room. Your mouth drops at the amount of viewers waiting.

“Holy shit,” you gasp. “We have over 2,000 viewers.”

A rumbling hmph leaves the helmet.

“It’s just you and me,” you remind him.

“Hit connect baby,” he says, sitting up straighter and folding his arms across his chest.

You do as he says and hit connect. Hiding your nervousness and shock behind a sultry smile.

“Hi everyone,” you purr. “I see a lot of new faces here tonight. I guess word got around about my new costar.”

You sway your hips slowly and teasingly, the messages of your viewers illuminating the contours of your body as you let the anticipation build. Din watches intently, his helmeted head tilted slightly.

“Tonight,” you say, before glancing back to Din, “you’re going to watch me fuck my boyfriend.”

The chat explodes, gifts and tips fill the sidebar. Turns out, there is a market for this.

You turn away, stepping closer to Din, each movement slow and sensual as you dance across the room. You can see his breath hitch behind the visor as he takes in every inch of your body and each roll of your hips.

His face is totally concealed by his helmet, and yet you feel his eyes stalking you as you dance for him and your viewers.

Bending over, you plant your hands atop his thick thighs, gripping them and staring into the visor as you give him a wink and mouth “I love you.” His body tenses as he keeps his arms folded across his chest.

You turn your back to him, giving him a full view of your ass barely covered in the silver fabric of the thong he picked out specifically for tonight. You begin to move in rhythm with the music softly playing in the background, gliding your hands along the soft skin of your thighs. You turn slightly to look over your shoulder at him as your hands travel up to your silver bra unclasping it and baring your chest to the camera.

The speaker on the headset amplifies his breathing, reminding you of the first night you talked to him. Deep, steady breaths, sometimes a small grunt, maybe a light whimper.

You dance along to the song, dipping low before popping up with a twist of your hips, your hands charting a path across your skin, pinching and pulling your nipples before dipping down to the shiny straps of your thong. The snap of the fabric against your hip stings when you give it a playful tug then let it go.

"I’m soaked for you,” you moan, running your hand across the wet seam of your thong.

Turning to face him, your lips curl into a teasing smirk at the sight of him. The silver helmet may conceal his face, but his body's response to your dance is evident. His chest rises and falls in sync with his deep breaths, his arms now uncrossed and resting on his thighs as his hands grip tightly.

Slowly, you slink over to him and straddle his lap., reveling in the power you holder over him with your movements. Your hands land on his broad shoulders as you grind against the hardness straining against his black sweatpants.

“You like what you see, baby?” you purr, loud enough for the mic to pick up.

“Always,” his modulated voice rumbles.

You rock your hips, rubbing yourself against his bulge. Soft gasps and moans spill from your lips, your head falling back in pleasure. 

“Do you want me to keep dancing for you?” you ask, swirling your hips.

“Yes,” he hisses.

“No touching,” you kiss the cool metal of his helmet. “Okay?”

The helmet tilts when he nods an affirmative.

Sliding off Din's lap, your fingers run along his chest as you rise. With a sultry smirk, you turn and sway your hips as you walk a few steps away from him. The beat of the music pulses through the room as you begin to dance.

Your hands glide over your body, fingers trailing across your skin as you arch your back and roll your hips.

Slowly, you turn to face him, his helmet is tilted as he watches intently.

When you reach him, you place your hands on his wide shoulders and lean in close. "Eyes on me, bounty hunter,” you whisper, your breath fans across the cool metal of his helmet.

Straddling his lap once more, you begin to grind against him in rhythm with the music. Your hips roll and swivel, creating delicious friction between you. Din's hands clench and unclench at his sides, fighting against the urge to touch you.

“Remember," you purr, "no touching."

A groan crackles through the helmet's speaker. You grin, knowing exactly how much he wants to touch you.

Rolling your body on top of him, your breasts graze against his chest before you lean back, your fingers tracing the curve of your breasts and down your stomach to the waistband of your thong.

Din's breathing grows heavier, the sound crackling through the helmet's speaker.

You rise off of him and turn to face the camera, your fingers hooking into the waistband of your thong, teasing at the thin silver fabric. You lock eyes with the camera as you slowly peel the garment down, revealing your soaked cunt to your viewers.

Facing Din again, you lower yourself to all fours and crawl to him. Your hands gliding up his thighs as you rise, nuzzling your face against the tent of his pants before pressing your body against his. You can feel the heat radiating off him and the tension in his muscles as he fights not to touch you. 

Turning around, you lower yourself onto his lap, your back to his chest. Your ass grinds against his hardness, feeling it strain against his sweatpants.

You’re aching and wet for him, each light whimper from his headset pools even more wetness between your legs.

“Go ahead and touch me baby,” you moan.

Din's hands immediately grasp your hips, pulling you firmly against him. His hands roam your body, one sliding up to cup your breast while the other dips between your thighs. You gasp as his fingers find your clit, circling it slowly.

“Feel how wet I am for you baby?” you moan.

A muffled groan escapes the helmet's speaker, Din’s fingers exploring your slick.

You roll your hips against his hand seeking more of his touch. 

“You want me to fuck him, chat?”

A splurge of thumbs ups and resounding yeses fill your screen.

You rise off Din's lap and turn to face him, hands gliding down his muscular chest to the waistband of his sweatpants. Slowly, teasingly, you tug them down, freeing his hard cock, his tip thick and glistening with precum. There’s something about sharing Din’s gorgeous cock with thousands of your viewers. One of the first glimpses you ever got of him was his golden toned cock, and now, here in the home you share, you’re sharing it with the world. 

"Look how hard you make him, chat," you purr, wrapping your hand around his length and giving it a slow stroke. Din's hips twitch at your touch, a hiss of breath crackling through the helmet's speaker. You smile at him, proud of his bravery and enthusiasm for your job.

You straddle his lap, the tip of his cock nudging against your soaked entrance.

Bracing your hands on his broad shoulders, you take all of him in when you settle on his cock. His hands slide around to grip your ass, as you begin to move on top of him.

The stinging stretch of him inside you feels so familiar, and yet everything is different now. Now, thousands of people are watching you take his cock as he stays concealed behind the shiny, silver mask.

You grin down at Din’s exposed chest under the helmet before leaning down and taking his nipple into your mouth, sucking on it hard. If you can’t kiss his lips, you’ll kiss his body.

Din’s hips jerk forward, his cock hitting deeper against your tightness.

You lick your way up his body and kiss the metal of his helmet. "This isn't fair," you breathe out against it, "you look so fucking hot."

Din growls into the speaker, his voice modulated and deep as his hands slide up your sides possessively.

“Face them, show them how you take my cock.”

You moan loudly, at his words, quickly turning in his hold and sinking back down on him, taking all of his thick cock.

Your back presses against his broad chest, his hands wrapping around to cup your breasts and pinch your nipples.

"Ride me just like that, pretty girl," he rumbles. "Take what you need."

Din’s hands roam over your body, strong and calloused against your soft skin. His fingers find your clit, rubbing and flicking it just the way he knows you love it.

Din growls again, his hips snapping up to meet yours with force. You can feel his cock throbbing inside of you as you reach behind him and grip onto his thick thighs for support as you ride him.

You can see the comments flooding in on your screen, filled with praises.

"I'm close baby, so close," you whimper, arching your back against his broad chest. The cool metal of his helmet presses against your shoulder.

"Cum for me," Din commands. The rumble from his speaker transports you right back to the nights you used to spend together, thousands of miles away from each other. Now, you’re here in the home you both share, taking his cock for your audience.

Everything sends you over the edge. You want to shout Din’s name, but you also wish to respect his anonymity... so you decide on a compromise.

“Mando!” you scream as your orgasm bursts through you. His breathing grows more rapid as your walls clench around his thick cock. Your head thuds against the metal of his helmet, your eyes squeezing tight, your lip capturing between your teeth as you you cum for Din—and your audience.

He lets out a groan that crackles through the speakers as he spills himself deep inside you. You collapse back against him, your bodies slick with sweat and chests heaving.

For a moment, you forget about the camera, the viewers, the chat still going wild as you listen to the cadence of Din’s breathing through the helmet’s speakers.

Slowly, still quivering in the aftershocks of your intense orgasm, you rise up from Din's lap. His softening cock slips out of you as you stand on wobbly legs. Turning to face the camera, you give your viewers a sultry smile.

"Look what he did to me," you purr, reaching down to spread yourself open with two fingers. Din's cum begins to drip out of your well-fucked pussy, glistening on your inner thighs. You trail a finger through the slick mess, bringing it to your lips to taste the mixture of you and Din.

The chat explodes with comments and tips, everyone going wild at the sight before them. You can’t look away from the image of Din on the monitor, sitting back in the chair, his broad chest heaving as he catches his breath. He’s naked, his cock laying heavily between his legs, glistening with a mixture of your collective orgasms.

"Mmm, he always fills me up so good," you moan appreciatively, scooping up more of the creamy fluid leaking out of you. You slip your fingers into your mouth, making a show of licking them clean and savoring the taste of Din's release.

Behind you, Din stands. You watch in the monitor as he stalks forward.

The chat window is full of flames, hearts, and messages. Encouragement for the two of you flowing in by your viewers. You smile at the camera as Din comes up behind you, pulling you close against his body and wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Hope you enjoyed everybody! We’ll see you next week.” The silver of Din’s helmet glints in the light when he nods as you shut down the show.

“Holy fuck!” you scream when you see the money from tonight’s show in your account, more than you’ve ever dreamed of earning. You turn around in his hold, lifting the helmet up and giving him a kiss. “Din, the audience loves you.”

—-

The wooden bench with its chipping paint and indentations from years of use overlooking the little pond the ducks gather in is your favorite spot on this earth. Better than the clubhouse in the woods behind your childhood home that you used to call yours as a curious child, better than the sanctuary of a townhome you used to call yours with all of your belongings, better than the bedroom you now share with your boyfriend who you love with all of your heart.

The sun has long gone down, the little lantern hanging on the wooden post swings in the night breeze as the moon sits high and full in the sky. 

A warm jacket is placed around your shoulders. It smells of Din. 

“Hi,” you turn and smile at him.

He gives you a shy smile and joins you on the bench, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you closer. 

You breathe in the familiar smell of him along with the wet dirt and the dew left on the grass. It smells of home. 

He sighs, his fingers against your shoulder tap nervously.

“You alright?” you ask.

He looks at you, deep brown eyes meeting yours and nods with a soft smile.

“I still can’t believe you’re here with me sometimes.” 

“I know, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

He hums in agreement. 

“I think we were destined to be together, like it was somehow written in the stars,” he says, his voice deep and introspective as he gazes up at the twinkling stars above. “I used to dream of being in space and looking down on earth, like I never belonged down here. But now, with you, I feel like… I belong.”

You lean your head against his shoulder and look up to the dark sky painted with stars.

“I couldn’t agree more,” you smile, tracing a constellation with your finger. “These can be our stars.”

Din’s hand gently covers yours, his thick fingers lingers on your ring finger.

“I like those,” he says with a nervous breath. “They’re ours now.”

He pulls away, turning to look you in your eyes, a shy smile deepening his dimple. “Would you stay here with me forever as… my wife?”

Your eyes widen in surprise and tears prick at the corner of your eyes. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted,” you breathlessly say.

Your breath hitches in your throat and your heart races as he reaches into his jacket, pulling out a beautiful golden ring with delicate stars etched onto it.

“This is what I’ve been working on in the barn all those nights. I made it myself.”

Tears fall down your face as Din takes your left hand and slides the ring on your finger. It fits perfectly, as if it was meant to be there all along.

You stare at the golden band, captivated by how beautiful it looks on your finger. This is where you are meant to be, with him.

“I love you,” you whisper, your voice full of emotion.

“I love you too,” Din replies. “We are one when together, we are one when parted, we will share all.”

—-

Fifteen Years Later...

Two quiet giggles awaken you from your sleep.

"It's Christmas! Can we go downstairs?" Bo asks excitedly, bouncing on her feet, her face lit with an excited smile. "I think I heard Santa last night!"

“No you didn’t,” Greef responds, rolling his eyes. “The chimney’s on the other side of the house.”

��Greef, ” Din sternly commands as he rises out of bed. “Be nice.”

“Sorry dad,” Greef apologizes.

You smile sleepily at your children's excitement, stretching as you climb out of bed.

“Come on!” Bo yells as she runs out the door.

"Alright, alright, we're coming," you yawn, quickly pulling on your robe and slippers.

Din wraps his arm around your waist as you make your way downstairs, following the pitter-patter of little feet racing ahead of you.

It was around this time ten years ago that Din sat you down and told you about Greef and Bo, the twin foundlings in need of a family. As a former foundling himself, Din couldn't bear the thought of the twins not having a safe and nurturing home. With tears in your eyes and love in your heart, you both made the decision to become the parents of Greef and Bo. The call to Cobb was made, and what used to be your livestream studio, turned into a nursery.

That first Christmas as a family of four, Din had planted Christmas trees on your farm. Now, one of those trees is sitting proudly in the corner of your living room, covered in twinkling lights and handmade ornaments.

"Look! Santa came!" Bo squeals, pointing at the cookie crumbs.

"Can we open presents now? Please?" Greef asks, barely containing his excitement.

“Hold on, let me get the coffee going,” Din chuckles, heading to the kitchen to turn the coffee maker on.

The kids vibrate with wonderment, taking in all of the brightly wrapped presents underneath the tree.

“Okay, have at them,” Din says, settling onto the couch next to you and pulling you close.

The kids don’t hesitate, diving for the presents. Bo chooses a soft, squishy package while Greef grabs a rectangular box, tearing into the wrapping paper.

"A new stuffed animal!" Bo exclaims, hugging a plush bear to her chest. "I'm gonna name her Chewie."

"Awesome, the new flying game I wanted!" Greef grins, examining the box. “Can we play it later, Dad?”

“We can,” Din nods with a warm smile. "I'm a pretty good pilot if I do say so myself."

You spend the next hour watching the kids open gift after gift, their faces lighting up with each reveal. There are new books, art supplies, clothes, and toys scattered across the floor. Fifteen minutes has turned into fifteen years. A black box of mystery has turned into a house full of love.

—-

A/N: Thank you *SO* much for reading. I loved writing Din and his cam girl, and I hope you love the glimpse of their future life together.

[lxkeee]

TWO SIDES OF THE SAME COIN

-PART FIVE

Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Seraphim Angel! Fem! Reader

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Genre: Angst (for now)

Warnings: Depression and mentions of self h*rm.

Notes: Heads-up, this chapter is filled with the Caeles Family trauma/lore lmao.

PART ONE | PART FOUR | PART SIX | NAVIGATION

Two angelic beings—currently in their human forms, sat across each other outside their garden, early morning sunlight streaming past the leaves of the large wisteria, they sat underneath the tree, a tea table in the middle with of course, a steaming and freshly brewed lavender tea and a platter of tea sandwiches to go with. The smell of roses and lavender is present around the garden as the sun rises through the horizon, calm and gentle cool breeze caressing their skins as they enjoy this peace and quiet. They are in the mortal realm at the moment, they didn't want heaven's ears to listen.

Xavier can be seen talking animatedly to his mother, his eyebrows furrowed as he did so, his hands moving around comically as he explained something to the older woman. [Y/n] sighs and nodded, bringing back the teacup into the table.

“So you're saying that Sera approved of this cleansing without the other's knowledge?” [y/n] asked with a small hum, bringing the teacup to her lips once more, pinky extended, she sipped her tea slowly before bringing the teacup back down to the table, making sure to use her pinky as a cushion to avoid making unnecessary noise.

She was awestruck, in disbelief by the information Xavier told her. Unacceptable. Sera's decision mocks the heavenly hierarchy, who is she to play God? Sure, God left her in charge as the higher being is off to who knows where but the reason God chose Sera is because the Seven Virtues were busy with work in the mortal realm. To think she made a major decision such as this without consulting the Seven virtues is unacceptable.

[Y/n] was bubbling in fury inside, as the angel of kindness, she can't imagine what the sinners are going through with the cleansing. Sera's decision is truly unacceptable. It felt like Sera didn't respect the status of the seven virtues and that is something she cannot allow. She worked so hard to be here, to where she is now. After Lucifer messed up and left an empty spot with the seven, she worked herself to the bone to fill that spot and is now one of the strongest and Sera couldn't even consult one single virtue to this decision. Blasphemy.

Xavier looked worried as he could tell that his mother is beyond pissed despite the gentle and calm look on her face, but he knows her. He could tell just by how tense her shoulders are, how deep the exhale she let out or the way her left eye twitched.

“I am glad you told me, I'll request a meeting with the others soon but I doubt it'll happen immediately as everyone is busy here on earth.” [y/n] sighs, picking up a small tuna sandwich and taking a bite of it. Xavier nodded as he took a sip of his own tea, nodding at her.

“I couldn't let Sera get away with this, after all.” He answered, looking away from his mother and to gaze at the garden. [Y/n] chuckles, her eyes darkened a bit as she follows where Xavier is looking—at the mini pond of the garden, two ducks and two swans swimming around. Surprisingly, a duck and swan were playing with each other. It brought a smile to [y/n]'s face, remembering the times she and Lucifer would play together in the skies, laughing and giggling. Times were easy and peaceful before. Oh how she wished she could turn back time.

Xavier's eyes narrowed slightly as he watches the two birds swimming around. A sigh escaping his lips before turning back to look at his mother once more.

“What do you want me to do for the time being?” He asked, crossing his arms over his chest, [y/n] smiled as she looked at her son, he grew up so fast. Proud of how far he came in life, though, she still felt a little guilt and sadness within her as she remembers how she neglected him during his toddler years, she was far too depressed that just one look at her son she would spiral into depression as Xavier bears so much resemblance to Lucifer. Her negligence to Xavier caused the boy to hate his looks so much to the point he tried to carve out his face with his weapon, thankfully Azrael was there to stop him and it served as a wake up call to her and realized how her actions affected Xavier so much. It took awhile and lots of therapy for her to finally face her son without having a mental breakdown and she apologized to the boy over and over again for the horrible things she had done and it took some serious therapy for Xavier too to accept his face—though, he hasn't fully accepted it but it isn't as worse as before.

[Y/n] sighs softly, shaking away the depressing memories. She's healing now and finally getting better, she doesn't need to look back at the negative memories. She smiled at Xavier, a look of adoration in her eyes, proud of her son for all the things he did for her. Her pride and joy.

Placing her hands on her lap, she gave him a small nod, “Just continue doing your duties, I'll take care of the rest, hmm?” she suggested with a smile and Xavier nodded, “Alright, I'll leave you to deal with it mother.” he says and [y/n] hummed in agreement.

[Y/n] took out her phone, typing something. Her fingers danced across the screen as she pressed the letters.

You: @everyone, when will you guys be available for a meeting? Seen by Michael, Azrael, Gabriel, Uriel

Michael: I won't be available for a couple days, I am unsure about the others. Why? Did something happen? Seen by [Y/n], Azrael, Gabriel, Camuel

Azrael: Did someone mess up? lmao Seen by Michael, [Y/n], Gabriel, Camuel, Uriel, Jophiel

Camuel: It's rare for you to actually summon us for once @Y/n Seen by Michael, Azrael, Gabriel, Camuel, Jophiel, [Y/n]

You: I am requesting for a meeting as a certain Seraphim left in charge is currently playing God. Seen by Michael, Gabriel, Camuel, Uriel, Jophiel, Azrael

Gabriel: What the fuck? Seen by Michael, [Y/n], Camuel, Uriel, Jophiel, Azrael

Azrael: Hey, watch your fucking language ಠ⁠_⁠ಠ Seen by Michael, Gabriel, [Y/n], Camuel, Uriel, Jophiel

Uriel: Well... That is certainly news.. Seen by Michael, Gabriel, Camuel, [Y/n], Jophiel, Azrael

Jophiel: Indeed. Seen by Michael, Gabriel, Camuel, [Y/n], Uriel, Azrael

Michael: We'll have a meeting in a week, all of us are far too busy at the moment. Thank you for telling us, [n/n]. Seen by Gabriel, [Y/n], Uriel, Camuel, Jophiel, Azrael

Michael: Is the schedule fine with you guys? @everyone Seen by Gabriel, [Y/n], Uriel, Camuel, Jophiel, Azrael

Jophiel: The schedule is fine, I guess I'll meet you guys soon. Seen by Michael, Gabriel, [Y/n], Uriel, Camuel, Azrael and everyone heart reacted to his message

[Y/n] turns off her phone and slips it back to her pocket, Xavier looks at her with a raised eyebrow, “So...?”

[Y/n] chuckles a bit, “I already told them and we'll have a meeting in a week or so. We'll handle it, don't worry.” she says, sipping her tea. “I am sure Michael will do something about it.”

“That meeting certainly didn't go well for me.” [y/n] muttered in annoyance as she left the office of the Seven. They just finished holding the meeting and Michael thought it was a good idea to make her take care of it, Azrael offered to help her but he has his own plate of responsibilities to finish, he is the angel of death after all. “Why did I have to lose the rock-paper-scissors?!” she whined to herself, pouting slightly.

She looked down upon her hands to see it shaking and pale, she's scared of going down there, she's afraid of what'll happen to her if she ever sees Lucifer again.

Contrary to popular beliefs, [y/n] doesn't consider Lucifer her ex-husband, no divorce ever happened and even after all the pain she went through, she remained loyal and always acted upon her vows to him even if he wasn't here in heaven with her.

Her eyes landed on the gold metal band around her ring finger, the very ring that Lucifer slipped into her hand when they got married. She didn't have the power or the courage to remove it.

She won't remove it unless Lucifer actually tells her to, unless Lucifer says it to her face that he no longer loves her or needs her.

She'll let him go willingly once he tells her all those things. But for now, she'll hold on. No matter how bruised and wounded her hands are, she'll hold on. She hopes that they will be a complete family one day, heck, even Charlotte can join. She'll treat the girl like her own daughter. She just wants her family complete, is that too much to ask for?

She dreams to give her son the father he deserves, Xavier didn't say it but as his mother she can tell how envious the boy is when he looks at other families. The longing look in his eyes, he's jealous that Charlie had the father—the very same father that left him for another family.

Her steps faltered as she finally arrived at her own office, opening the door and quickly got inside and locking it. Her back pressed against the door, her body getting heavier as she slid down to the floor.

Looking up at the ceiling, the ceiling of her office, the chandelier with apple and duck crystals hanging from it—she commissioned it in memory of Lucifer.

“Some people long for a life that is simple and planned”

She softly sang, standing up from the floor, her eyes softening as she gazed outside the window of her office.

“Tied with a ribbon

Some people won't sail the sea 'cause they're safer on land

To follow what's written”

She sang softly, her feet gracefully bringing her across the room, reaching to her desk. Her hand opened the cabinet of her desk, grabbing a small black box. Opening it to see a gold necklace with a pink crystal heart pendant. Sighing before closing the box once more and returning it back to the drawer.

“But I'd follow you to the great unknown

Off to a world we call our own”

She says softly, her eyes downcast as her voice became significantly lower. [Y/n] remembers Lucifer giving her the necklace for their first anniversary.

“Hand in my hand

And we promised to never let go”

A tear streamed down her cheek, remembering the promises they've made for each other. The room was tinted pink from the rays of the setting sun, shadows casting into her dull office.

“We're walking a tightrope

High in the sky

We can see the whole world down below”

The memories of them flying together in the skies, laughing and joking with each other.

“We're walking a tightrope

Never sure, never know how far we could fall”

Lucifer catching her when her wings gave out.

“But it's all an adventure

That comes with a breathtaking view

Walking a tightrope

With you, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh

With you, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh

With you”

Despite fearing for her life, she trusted him to catch her always when she falls.

[Y/n] sighs softly, her steps light as a feather, graceful as she dances as if Lucifer is there with her. Slow dancing in her office like he's with her.

“Mountains and valleys, and all that will come in between

Desert and ocean”

They promised to never let go of each other regardless of what comes in-between them.

“You pulled me in and together we're lost in a dream

Always in motion”

She listened to all of his hopes and dreams of the future, future of the world and his future with her.

“So I risk it all just to be with you

And I risk it all for this life we choose”

She knew what she was getting into when she dated him, he was the most beautiful angel of all of creation. Many wanted him but she trusted him to only want her.

“Hand in my hand

And you promised to never let go

We're walking a tightrope

High in the sky

We can see the whole world down below”

With a flex of her wrists, golden dusts of her power came of her hands, forming a faux Lucifer. She still remembers what he looked like. The Lucifer made of golden dust smiled at her, holding her body close as they waltzed across the room.

“We're walking a tightrope

Never sure, will you catch me if I should fall?”

[Y/n] was crying softly, Lucifer wipes away her tears with his thumb, leaving specks of golden dust in her cheeks. Lucifer twirls her and dips her, effortlessly catching her. He pulls her up to allow her to stand.

With a sad smile, [y/n] waves her hand and the Lucifer made of golden dust gently disappears like a dust in the wind. [Y/n] extending her hand, as if to stop the love of her life from disappearing once more. Even if it was just something she conjured up with her powers.

“Well, it's all an adventure

That comes with a breathtaking view

Walking a tightrope

With you, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh

Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh

With you

With you, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh

With you, ooh, ooh, ooh

With you.”

[Y/n] grabbed her handkerchief from her pocket, dabbing the fabric onto her eyes. No matter how much she tries to dry her eyes, tears never seem to stop falling.

“After all these years, I am still a mess without you.” she whispers, eyes gazing outside the window of her office, the sunlight shining down on her like the universe is listening to her anguish. She grips the fabric of her dress, on where her heart is beating and aching.

“What happened to death do us apart? Why did you leave me Lucifer? WAS I NOT ENOUGH?!” She asked, screaming in anguish and as always, no answer to her questions.

“I need you, Lucifer... I still do...” she whispers, defeated as she dragged her emotionally heavy body to her office chair, slumping down with a loud and choked out sob.

With shaky breaths and trembling hands. She calms herself down, calming herself down. She still has work to do.

TAGLIST I:

@valerie-36 @blackbleedingrose @adaizel @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @thedarkkitten @selvyyr @froggybich @brithedemonspawn @kottenox @totallymitya @many-fandoms-lover @dou-dou @mezzyb0nb0n @n1chxyaaenthusiast @cherry-4200 @koirb @galaxyj3lly @crystalplays28 @luleck @scootinonyourmom @rory-cakes @mixplara @crescent-z @bitchyzombienacho @kalisha2004 @altervex @nehy019 @napbatata @kouyoumarryme @sxgacxbe @kooidoom @ok-boke @random-3455 @izzieg3987 @snoozewritezz @dreamzaremyrealityy @hcneyiced @witchbunny1210 @ghostdoodlen @aikobakugou @just-here-reading @dzhanett-blog @des-deswain5621 @cocomollo @haleypearce @onyxstarhigh06 @nirvana5874 @shaebutter-baby

[swanimagines]

Teen Wolf: Imagine being Derek’s sister and him finding out that you’re secretly dating Stiles.

requested by anon

Note: nowadays all requests are done straight to asks, this is my old template of posting and I no longer have their asks!

Note 2: A reminder again that in all my newer fics where reader is someone's sibling/child or some other relative, they're always adopted, not related by blood!

When you first met Scott and Stiles, you wouldn’t have believed that one day, you’d end up falling in love with the latter. Your first meeting hadn’t been… good, if you were honest. You saw them as a threat, as did your brother, so your first words to Stiles had been “stay out of this, human”.

Seeing where that meeting brought you now had been completely unexpected. Stiles had somehow gotten enchanted by you, and you soon realised he had a crush on you — despite you having been so harsh at him when he had tried to defend Scott.

And more surprises were coming. Him fumbling and being awkward, at the loss of words before you, you found it cute. Cute. A human, you found a human cute.

You tried to hide it, how you were warming up for him. How he got you to smile, how you started to enjoy his company. It wasn’t logical, it was foolish. And especially when Derek hated Stiles, you having feelings for the boy just didn’t fit the picture.

But, your feelings just wouldn’t go away, no matter how much you tried to suppress them, and eventually you just had to blurt them out to him. He just stood there stunned, looking at you for a moment before he started grinning like he had just won in a lottery. And you knew that he kind of had, he had had the biggest crush on you for a long time and now you told him you felt the same way.

But you still needed to keep it hidden from your brother, in fact Scott and the Sheriff were the only ones who knew. You snuck out almost every day after school to hang out with Stiles and there you were at a park, in the shadow of an old oak, heads pressed together and holding hands.

This was one of those days. You two were sitting in the park, beside a pond full of ducks. Stiles had brought a bag of seeds with him, and you fed the ducks together. You were quieter than usual, and Stiles nudged you.

“What are you thinking about?” he mumbled, handing you a few seeds.

“I think Derek is suspecting something,” you replied, glancing over your shoulder. “I can’t help but think that he’s been watching us, he acts so weird. I don’t know what he will do if he finds out about us.”

You threw the seeds to the ducks, making them swarm at your feet. Stiles sighed, looking up for a moment. You knew he wanted to mutter “creep” but you appreciated he didn’t. You took his hand. “I’m not leaving you, in case you’re afraid of that. Even if Derek will try to lock me up.”

Stiles nodded, squeezing your hand back. “I know.”

You sat there for a moment longer, until the seeds ran out and Stiles shook the bag towards the quacking ducks, before throwing it into the trashcan and leaving the park with you. You walked in silence for a moment, before Stiles turned to you. “Wanna come watch a movie? Your brother can’t follow us there, Dad has too many security cameras for that.”

You scoffed. “As if that’d keep him away. But you’re right about it being safer there. He might not want to come in and risk your dad seeing him threatening you.”

He took the jeep keys from his pocket and fumbled with them for a moment. “So… you’re coming?”

You nodded, taking his arm. “Yeah, I’d like to have a good laugh with a comedy before going home.”

—

As the credits rolled, you realised how late it had gotten. The clock had struck midnight a while ago, and you could almost picture Derek tapping his foot impatiently like the Rabbit from Winnie the Pooh. So you reluctantly retreated from Stiles’s warm embrace, stretching out before looking at him. “I should go.”

He sighed, absentmindedly running his thumb across your hand. “Yeah, you probably should.”

You stood up from the couch, swinging your bag over your shoulder, letting Stiles walk you to the door. Once you reached the porch, he leaned against the door frame and you looked at him, biting your lip. “Thanks for tonight,” you mumbled. “I had fun.”

Stiles nodded. “Me too.”

You thought for a moment, but then decided to take the leap — you stepped closer to him. “I think a proper good night wish could be better than just saying it.”

Stiles’s cheeks turned slightly red, and he stuttered slightly. “O-oh?”

“Yeah.”

And then, with one last breath, you gently grasped the collar of his hoodie and pressed your lips to his.

It wasn’t a deep, passionate kiss you see in movies, it was rather short, in between a peck and a proper kiss. But still, when you stepped back, Stiles grinned like he had won the lottery all over again, and you couldn’t help but giggle a little. “Goodnight, Stiles.”

He blinked, straightening up. “Goodnight.”

Then you turned, walking into the night with the biggest grin on your face. The night was chilly, but you felt like your heart was jumping around so much that it almost overheated you. Not that you minded, you were happier than in a long time, and almost felt like skipping through the forest.

Crack.

You stopped dead in your tracks, looking around. “Derek?”

Sure enough, he stepped out from the darkness, and you froze. “I… I was just on my way home.”

He scoffed, crossing his arms. “Don’t lie. I saw what happened.”

You cocked your head, trying to act clueless. “Saw what happen?”

He raised his eyebrows. “The kiss. I saw you kissed him. Didn’t you just tell me there’s nothing going on with him?”

You tried to play stupid and test the waters, laughing. “Nice try. You haven’t been near me today, I haven’t smelled you.”

He shook his head, sighing. “Which is exactly why I’m concerned. You’re losing your focus. What if the Hunters will get you because you’re too busy staring at Stiles’s eyes?”

You kept walking, pushing past him. “You’re overreacting. It was just a kiss.”

He turned around, starting to walk with you. “Just a kiss, and numerous secret dates after school for weeks, or is it months now?”

You groaned, figuring it’s no use to keep pretending. “Alright! We have… something going on with him. But it’s still early, and I’m not abandoning the pack because of him if that’s what you’re afraid of.”

“He can’t protect you. The Hunters will use him against you,” Derek said quietly. “You could die because of him.”

“His pack—”

He interrupted you, “He doesn’t have a pack, he’s not one of us. Even if he pretends to belong in Scott’s pack, he isn’t, and will never be, one of them.”

You sighed. You knew he was mostly right. Stiles, being a human, could easily be used against you. He hadn’t learned about everything yet, nor Scott had in that matter. You had tried to guide them, to help, but so far it was going slowly. And you knew that each day, the risks grew. You understood your brother, you had gone through the exact same feelings, wondering and pondering and pacing around your room, before finally concluding you weren’t able to keep it inside you. You had brought up all your worries to Stiles once you decided to tell him about your feelings, and he assured you that Scott would help if any problems came up. You still had doubts, but chose to push them aside for the sake of living. You had done what you could, telling him and Scott about the risks and Stiles still wanted to see what would become of you two.

You stopped, looking up for a moment. “I know it’s dangerous, Derek. But what do you expect me to do? Ignore my feelings, end my relationship? It wouldn’t be fair for me, even less for him. He signed up for this, because he wants to be with me.”

Derek stopped as well, stepping in front of you. He ran his hand through his hair. “I’m not asking you to ignore how you feel, but you need to be smart about this. Think about how many times we watched our friends get hurt because they got too close?”

“We’re not children, we can look after ourselves just fine,” you groaned.

He raised his eyebrows. “Can you? Because to me, it looks like one of you will be dead soon, and—.”

You shook your head, raising your hands up. “Stop.”

You stood there in silence for a long while, before Derek crossed his arms again. “You’re not letting this go, are you?”

You huffed. “No. I can only promise to come to you for help if I need any.”

He thought for a moment, and pursed his lips. “Alright. But don’t expect me to like it, or him.”

You smiled a little. “Yeah, I know. Thanks, Derek.”

He didn’t say anything, just turned, and you followed him home. Maybe things between Stiles and Derek would be alright in the end after all.

Requests are open! FANDOM LIST | PROMPT LIST(S) | RULES (READ!!!)

[mint-yooxgi]

That Kids, Is How I Met Your Father - Seonghwa X Reader

Part of the CODN Summer Event - See You On The Flip Side

Genre: Mature, Angst, Crack, Fluff, Non-idol!AU

Pairing: Seonghwa X GN!Reader

Words: 2,700

Rating: T for Teen

Warnings: Mentions of kidnapping, but really it's a really funny misunderstanding, a gun!, mature themes, not edited, I'll do that laterrrrr so please excuse any errors

A/n: Since the event was announced and I saw the first prompt, this has been living in my head rent free lmaooo I had way too much fun writing this, so I hope you all like it as well! It's not meant to be taken too seriously, so just have fun when reading it! At least, I hope you will! As always feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy!~

Summary: You seem to have the most rotten luck when it comes to chatting up strangers... and asking them for help...

Prompt: Accidentally kidnapping a mafia boss.

You have no idea how you got here. Perhaps it’s your penchant for excitement, or maybe even your love of adventure. However, if anyone would have told you that you’d be in this situation, you would have laughed in their face… followed promptly by an excited, yet curious, ‘really?’

Honestly, you can’t be mad. He is rather cute, and he did go along with it to start.

That’s what happens when you trust a stranger.

You had seen your ex across the park with their new fling walking hand in hand. Or, rather, the person they had been seeing the whole time while you had supposedly been in a relationship with them. Seeing them out looking so joyous had something within you twisting unpleasantly, and if they could look so happy being together and away from you, then so could you.

Looking around the park, you had done a quick scan of the area. Weeding out potential dangers, you finally zeroed in on your target. A man with shaggy black hair half tied up in a ponytail. He appeared to be alone, and the fact that he was crouched by the pond chatting with the ducks had an immediate good feeling towards him building within your gut.

Without a moment to waste, you ran over to him.

“Hi, I know this is really sudden, but could you do me a huge favour?” Your words come out rushed, cheeks heating as you avert your gaze to the side.

Unfortunately for you, your gaze caught on your ex and their now partner rounding the closest bend and getting even closer to where you were standing.

You didn’t even give the man time to respond. All you did know, was that he had stood back to his feet beside you, his beauty captivating you the moment you turned to meet his curiously quirked brow.

“Great, thanks.” You say, offering him a tight smile.

The sound of laughter meets your ears, and you immediately find yourself stepping closer into this mystery man’s side.

A call of your name draws your attention to the side.

“Oh, hey, Colin,” you grin, chuckling awkwardly as you meet his gaze. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“Well, we were just out for an afternoon stroll through the park, and I couldn’t help but notice you with-“

“Oh, excuse me,” the man beside you clears his throat, extending his hand out towards Colin. You fail to see the pointed look he shoots your ex’s now partner. “Where are my manners? My name is Seonghwa.”

You swear you see Colin’s partner stiffen beside him, their eyes catching on a large silver and black ring on the duck watcher’s - Seonghwa’s - hand.

“So, how long have you and Seonghwa been together-“

“Well, it was great seeing you!” You cut their words off eagerly, a tight smile painting your lips. 

Grabbing Seonghwa’s hand in your own, you pull him down the path and in the opposite direction of the two of them a bit frantically. You need to get away from an even more awkward conversation than what had already been started mere minutes ago.

“This was a dumb idea.” You keep muttering over and over to yourself as you drag him along. “God- how could I have been so stupid?”

You fail to see the curious quirk of the man’s brow trudging behind you.

Taking a quick look around, you manage to rush across the street and into a side alleyway. It’s a bit secluded, but you could use the space right now. Especially after seeing your ex again.

It takes you a full minute to realize that you’re still holding this mystery man’s hand.

“Should I even ask?” His amused voice greets your ears.

Instantly, you drop his hand, beginning to pace.

“All this time I thought I was over doing stupid things like this to get his attention, but no!” You drawl out that last word, shaking your head. “I just had to go and drag a random stranger into it instead of walking away. God, that was probably so uncomfortable for you. I’m so sorry!” You turn to him, your eyebrows drooping. “You probably think I’m some crazy person obsessed with their ex, or something. I promise you I’m not!”

Your words start rising in pitch, voice taking on a more frantic tone.

“I’m just…. upset at how happy they look after what they did-“ you take a sharp breath in. “And you probably don’t even care, oh my god. Here I am ranting to a literal stranger over my old relationship problems after dragging him across the street.”

The corner of Seonghwa’s lips quirk, resting his one shoulder against the brick wall of the alleyway casually. His eyes continue to track your every movement, amusement dancing within his gaze as he listens to you rant like he’s not even there.

After a few more minutes of you seemingly working yourself up, he cannot help but chuckle, “You know, there’s not many people brave enough to do what you just did.”

This seems to halt you right in your tracks.

You blink, turning to face him fully, and noticing how he’s still been here this whole time.

“To be fair, I thought you would have bolted the moment I dragged you into this alleyway.”

“You’re blocking the only exit.” The grin he wears only widens, watching as your eyes seem to dart everywhere but towards him now.

“Oh.” You laugh awkwardly. “So, I am.”

He says nothing in response, simply continuing to watch you in amusement as he crosses his arms over his chest.

“Well, then…” you clear your throat, stepping pointedly to the side. “I won’t keep you any longer.”

His grin only stretches wider across his face. “You sure about that?”

“Well, unless you want to hear all about the relationship struggles of a stranger, I won’t hold you hostage any longer.” You motion for him to walk passed with your hand, signifying his freedom.

“Believe me,” he pushes himself off of the wall, yet opts to stand directly across from you still with his arms crossed. “If I had wanted to escape, there is no way you could have held me here.”

To say you are taken back by his bluntness would be a great understatement.

“Oh?” Your brows raise, an expression of disbelief coating your features. “I mean, it’s not like I was being forceful!”

“On the contrary,” he chuckles, his eyes dancing in amusement. “I had no other choice than to follow you after you had grabbed my hand.”

“Well, I highly doubt you couldn’t have just pulled your hand free-“

“But then what would have our dear Colin have thought?” He hums, tilting his head slightly. “Would have been so scandalous for a couple to act so repulsed of one another.”

“I said I was sorry!” Your shoulders deflate. “You seemed like the best option in the park at the time and I took a chance! You’re the one who went along with it.”

“I’m not so heartless that I would leave someone in clear distress.” His words come out a little sharper than before, and you notice his eyes seem to harden for a moment.

You recoil slightly, blinking at him in disbelief. “I never said that you were.”

He holds your gaze, his jaw ticking. His shoulders seem tense.

“Well, thanks for your help, oh, great kung fu master,” you say, bowing dramatically with an arm across your chest while the other extends out towards the opening of the alleyway. “My apologies if I disturbed your duck whispering rituals.”

Seonghwa takes a moment to observe you, his head tilting curiously. A blink, and you have yet to come up from your mockery of a bow, which only causes a huff of disbelief to escape him through his nose.

“You really have no idea who I am, do you?”

You lift your head, brow furrowed. “Should I?”

Your response clearly catches him off guard. So much so, that he drops his arms to his side.

“Are you some celebrity that I don’t know about?” You shake your head, attempting to place if you’ve seen him on a talk show, or in headlines recently.

This time, the disbelief is clear on his face. “You’ve got to be shitting me…”

“I assure you, sir,” you reply pointedly, “that if I had any idea who you were, I most likely would not have approached the least intimidating stranger making animal crossing sounds at the ducks.”

His mouth falls open, eyes widening as he attempts to refute your statement.

“It was rather sweet, if I’m being honest with myself-“

A blink, and suddenly he has you pinned to the wall of the alleyway. His hands hold tightly to your shoulders, pressing you harshly against the brick as his dark eyes meet your own.

“You need to forget everything you saw, and, or heard today.” He says firmly, his lips curling over his teeth.

“Woah,” you attempt to lift your hands in a shrug, but at the way he pushes you firmer into the wall, his body now pressed against your own, you grimace. “Didn’t realize being human was a sin.”

“You don’t understand-“

“Oh, I don’t understand?” You nod once, slowly, your eyes wide. “Because I’m pretty sure this has taken quite a turn from what we both expected from the other.”

“You don’t realize how dangerous I can be-“

“Is this supposed to be some kind of bad boy act, because it really could use some work-“

“It’s not an act!”

“Oh, really?” You quirk a brow, the corner of your lips quirking. “Then, is that a gun in your pants, or are you just happy to see me?”

The man before you lets out a long sigh, his head dropping as he takes a step away from you. His hands move almost too fast for you to see, but at the sleek black object that he pulls out, your eyes nearly bulge from your head.

“A gun!” 

“Keep your goddamn voice down,” Seonghwa hisses, tucking the object into the back waistband of his jeans. “I told you I wasn’t fucking around.”

However, you’re not even paying attention anymore.

“Oh my god, I’m going to die….” You’re mumbling again, blinking rapidly as you lean against the wall for support. “Stupid, stupid, stupid trying to enlist help from a stranger. A stranger with a gun, no less…” You smile tightly, looking like you may let out a shriek of disbelief at any second. “I’m gonna be kidnapped, and my cats will have no one to take care of them-“

“I’m not going to kidnap you.” He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. He goes to reach for you in attempts to calm you down, but you recoil, causing him to immediately back down. “Your cats won’t be orphaned. Relax.”

“But you have a gun!” You whisper harshly, as if it should be obvious why he is a sudden threat to you.

“Hey, if anyone is the kidnap victim here, it’s me.” He hums, that same look of amusement back in his eyes.

“I didn’t-“

“I’ve already had to tell my personal guards to stand down twice since you’ve whisked me away-“

“I was about to knee you in the balls!” 

“Yeah, you definitely would have been shot for that.” He states, rather casually at that.

The look of horror that paints your features is near comical at this point.

He blinks. “You’re not going to be shot-“

“I’m too young to die! I still have my whole life ahead of me!” You begin to wail dramatically.

“You’re not going to die.” He sighs, shaking his head lightly in amusement.

“Says the man with the gun!” You flail your hands, motioning to him with wide eyes. “I knew celebrities valued their privacy, but threats are a whole different ball game.”

“I guess you could call me somewhat of a celebrity.” He shrugs casually, seeming to bask in the idea.

“You, sir, need to sort out your priorities.” You deadpan.

“Says the person freaking out about getting shot by a gun I already put away.” He counters. “Believe me, if I had wanted you dead, you would have been by now.”

“Well, that just makes me feel loads better!” You throw your hands in the air in exasperation. “You certainly know how to pick someone up at the park.”

“You kidnapped me!” He replies, just as exasperatedly.

“I thought you said you’d have no trouble getting away if that were the case.” You simper, nose in the air as you cross your arms over your chest.

A moment of silence passes between the two of you as he takes you in. Then, the most startling sound escapes him since the beginning of your encounter with this mystery duck whisperer.

He laughs. Not a small chuckle, or puff of amusement. A loud, boisterous laugh which echoes off of the bricks of the alleyway as he nearly doubles over.

“God, I haven’t had this much fun since Joong shattered the duplicate blood ruby we were supposed to use to pull off the Mont Blanc heist.” Seonghwa straightens, attempting to catch his breath as he wipes at the corner of his eyes.

You blink, his words seeming to trigger a memory inside of your mind. Curiously, you tilt your head as flashes of breaking news bulletins flit through your mind, your mouth falling open in disbelief. You hand lifts, shaking lightly as you point a finger at him.

“You’re the leader of the notorious Hala gang?” Your eyes go wide, stunned disbelief painting your features. That is, until a shrill laugh is leaving your lips.

Now, it’s your turn to double over in laughter.

“You- you’re the-“ More peels of laughter escape you, hunching over to rest your hands on your knees.

“What’s so hard to believe?” He quirks a brow, seemingly amused by your reaction currently.

“You were making animal crossing noises at the ducks!” Your lips quirk upwards in the corners. “The big, bad, scary Hala boss spends his free time at the pond, cooing to the ducks!”

“Well, we all need hobbies other than murder sometimes.” He shrugs, as if this is the most normal conversation to be having.

“Right,” you drawl out, shooting him a sceptical look. “And diamonds aren’t a girl’s best friend. Or, well, in this case, blood diamonds.”

“Actually, it was a ruby. But, fair enough,” he chuckles, his eyes shining as he stares at you across from him.

“Oh, pardon me,” you roll your eyes playfully. “We can’t all be versed in the world of jewels and gemstones.”

He takes a brief moment to observe you, seemingly coming to a decision. The corner of his lips twitches upwards.

“Would you like to be?”

His question clearly catches you off guard, and you nearly go tumbling over your own two feet as you push yourself off of the wall. “Excuse me?”

“Well, seeing as you’ve separated me from my lovely ducklings, and kidnapped me against my will…” he hums, closing the distance between the two of you carefully. “I think it’s only fair that we do something to my benefit this evening. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Almost as soon as he finishes speaking, he offers you his arm. A soft smile tugs at his lips, that glimmer of amusement shining once more within his dark eyes. He holds no aura of intimidation around him, nor does he seem to have any intent of harming you for the moment. Still, you cannot help but to eye him cautiously.

Your gaze flicks from his arm to his face, studying him carefully. Your brow quirks, and you cannot deny the spark of excitement that kindles within you as you gently place your hand on his arm.

“If my cats are suddenly orphaned cause I’m dead in a ditch somewhere…”

“Believe me, Darling,” Seonghwa chuckles lowly, his breath ghosting the shell of your ear as he leans into you. He lightly tugs you in closer as you both exit the alleyway, ensuring that you’re pressed right against his side. “When I’m done with you, you’ll be begging to stay.”

[norikuna]

DITTO — Gojo Satoru a rewrite of this post.

prologue. → brave, lucky, courageous. these are the words that people bestow upon you when the dust has cleared, and the king of curses is no more. you disagree, for if you were lucky, gojo satoru would still be standing at your side. instead you've been left to stare at the ocean shoreline on your own, without your best friend (the love of your life) by your side.

pairing. gojo satoru x afab!reader

warnings+. unfulfilled/unresolved love. angst, hurt, comfort, fluff. your usual shenanigans. sfw! implied, minor satosugu (mb because geto is my beautiful sad princess and i love him so he has to be a part of everything). pining, idiots in love. grief, and what you do after you've lost what you treasure the most etc u get it. reader is from an unnamed clan, has a younger brother. reader also wears skirts, dresses sometimes, character death + injury

word count. 11k! 😭 song inspiration. ditto — newjeans / 뉴진스 (2022) a/n. i wrote rough headcanons and posted them yesterday but i woke up thinking dang i should actually write something better about that lmao. update: i thought i'd finish this in a few hours, why did this take me like 2 days? update #2: dawg this is long as fuck...this kinda depressed me to write CROSSPOSTED ON AO3 <3 💙

mp3. do you think about me now, yeah. all the time...

✉️ — 1995. 💬 — gojo.

these meeting rooms were hushed, grand, and the kind of place that simply swallowed up any sound and echo; where the wood-panelled walls were lined with the tapestries and polished symbols of his clan.

and in the hush, gojo had sat cross-legged on the tatami mat, trying to listen to the conversation of the adults, with their low and steady voices that droned on. this was so boring. they were always speaking of things that he just couldn't understand, but his parents said these meetings were important, and so he was dragged along - much to his eternal chagrin. still, he shifted in place, glancing around at the detailed screens painting around the corners of the room, in varying shades of blue.

across the room, there was another kid. one who sat beside her father, fidgeting just as he was. and gojo could tell by the way that you kept glancing towards the door that you, too, longed to escape. your gaze caught his, and there was that flicker of mutual boredom that sparked between you two. you had scrunched up her nose, as if to say 'this is so boring, isn't it?'

gojo grinned, stifling a giggle. he had leaned back, just a little, surveying the adults who paid no heed to him, before letting himself inch across the rough texture of the mat towards the door.

"do you want to see the garden?" he mouthed silently, his words exaggerated and slow, so you would understand.

your eyes had lit up, and you nodded, just as your father (well, he assumed it was her father) leaned down to whisper something in your ear, his voice a low rumble that was far too quiet for gojo to catch. you were nodding obediently, but your eyes were now fixed with the glimmer of excitement, and he quickly held the door open for you as you scrambled out the door, following him quietly as they creaked down the long hallway.

and soon, they reached the back of the estate, where the garden stretched out like a hidden oasis, filled with the flowering bushes, the winding stone paths, and the pond that glistened in the morning light. suddenly, he stopped by the edge of the pond, brushing pale hair out of his stinging eyes, "i'm satoru, by the way."

you had sat down quickly, as though the long walk had winded her (gojo had barely needed to stop to catch is breath), and your robes dipped into the pond, letting the water seep up slowly, "i've heard of you. my parents say you're an only child."

gojo shrugged, trying to think of something important he could tell you, "it's not so bad. one day, i'm going to be the head of my clan," puffing up his chest a little.

you had nodded, "i would like to be too, but my younger brother would get it. because...you know."

gojo didn't quite know but he nodded like he understood, and he tried to think of something smarter to say, "well the job isn't that fun anyway. it's just sitting around reading papers, and telling people what to do."

you had pouted, frowning, "i want to tell people what to do all day. and i would get the nicest robes too as clan head."

and you had looked so unhappy at the prospect that you were being robbed of a stellar wardrobe that gojo made up his mind, right then and there, "tell you what, when i become my clan head, i'll make sure you get the nicest robes, how's that?"

your face had lit up, holding your little pinky up to his, "promise?"

gojo linked his finger with hers, sealing this silly vow and laughing, "why not?"

✉️ — 1996. 💬 — you.

when you're seven years old, you’ve resigned yourself to trailing behind gojo, watching as your friend takes on the world with the same reckless, eager energy that he seems to pour into everything that he does.

his voice has picked up a confidence that you haven't felt yet, and there's a permanent, flashy grin on his face that says he doesn't care what anyone thinks about him, not his parents, nor his clan.

and today, gojo's decided that the old shrine on the edge of your family estate needs exploring. you're a little less certain, especially since your father had told you that this shrine was haunted, but you find yourself following the boy anyway, and there's that silent agreement in place: he leads, you follow. you're alright with that, that's just the way it's always been.

he's dressed, as usual, in a loose grey hoodie that's two sizes too big for him, and his jeans have a hole in the knee; some small rebellion against his clan's strict sense of tradition. even his hair is awfully emssy, tousled and getting a little too long, and you know he hates it when his mother tries to comb it down, and you easily suspect that gojo just ruffles it on purpose to get a reaction out of those around him. he probably does everything on purpose for a round of reactions, honestly.

you, on the other hand, have your nicest lilac skirt on, and there's a small bow in your hair that the maidservants had pinned themselves (your mother had been too deep in her cups all morning). but you had fluttered around, feeling quite pretty in your skirt; like you were a fairy that would sprout wings and live in the clouds.

gojo glances back at you, and rolls his eyes, "you know, you look like you're going to one of the clan meetings," he mutters, but there's a playful glint in his eye. he's pulled a twig from the ground, and he's waving it around like a sword, slicing through imaginary enemies as he marches forward like an idiot.

you just shrug, quietly watching him cut through the tall grass ahead, "i like looking nice," you mumble, a little embarrassed. you can feel the careful way the sweet, old servant (she turned seventy last week!) had arranged your hair, and the press of the bow keeping it every lock in place.

"well, if you ever decide to look like you're not on your way to sit for a court painting, let me know," gojo says, smirking (he thinks he's funny) as he waves his 'sword' around, battling on the false frontlines.

but despite yourself, you laugh, and quicken your pace to keep up with him, and so, gojo slows just a bit, enough that you're walking side by side now, and his arm brushes against yours.

"did you know that they say that this shrine is spooked?" he asks, his voice falling to a dramatic whisper.

"i live here, satoru. obviously, duh," and the shrine comes into view, and it's small, weathered with age, but to you, it looks grand and mysterious, even magical, "do you believe it's haunted?"

gojo shrugs, unfazed, "nah, probably just an old rock. but it would be cool if it was. maybe, we'll see a ghost."

now you've taken a hesitant step back, but gojo just grins, grabbing your wrist and pulling you forward, and his hand is warm and steady in yours.

"c'mon, don't be a chicken," he teases, laughing as he drags you closer, and you plant your feet firmly in the ground, watching as clouds begin to roll over the sky, ominous and gloomy.

oh, this place is definitely haunted. your father was right, it's so over for you now. a massive, ugly curse is going to pop out and eat you alive, and steal your pretty hair bow. you mutter a small prayer under your breath. gojo satoru, you will pay for this.

✉️ — 2000. 💬 — you.

you'd always heard whispers about yourself from the other kids, how you were too quiet, or you tried far too hard to be perfect — unwilling to roughhouse the way they did. perhaps they were right, and it was true that you preferred to sit alone. you think it was the feeling of order you enjoyed, of a world you could control, even if it was just through lines on a piece of paper.

but today, their voices were louder than usual. a small group had gathered near the cherry blossom tree where you'd settle yourself, and they circled around like hungry wolves sniffing out something they could tear apart.

one girl wrinkled her nose and called you prissy (well, okay) and another boy had snickered and muttered that you were so boring, and it was a wonder that you even had a friend like gojo.

ouch.

their words felt like small, precise cuts, sharper than expected. you had heard these things before. after all, everyone had reached the age where they were aware of their abilities, their techniques as jujutsu sorcerers.

you didn't mind your own technique, making sure to channel time and energy to learn so you could grow up and be as good as your father one day (a well established sorcerer in his own right, if a bit out of shape).

but you didn't have to be very smart to know that gojo's abilities stood out entirely in a different way, and you heard your parents whisper in hushed tones at how lucky his clan was to have a child like that. with the right training and moulding, he could be the most powerful man to walk the earth.

how silly. gojo was all laughs, and smiles, and stupid jokes and bright, clever eyes. you thought it was dumb how they all spoke about an eleven year old boy like he was a weapon, kept in its sheath until it was ready to be drawn.

but of course, all the kids wanted to be friends with him instead. and today, these barbs hurt more — and you kept your eyes down, clutching your books a bit tighter, willing for these supposed 'friends' of yours to go away.

but before you could say anything, you heard his stomps.

"hey!"

gojo's voice was unmistakable, sharp and sudden as he clamoured over, all brashness and bravado. he had gotten a bad haircut recently (entirely his own fault for thinking he could put scissors to his own hair, but you had laughed so hard as he swore curses) so white tufts stuck out all over his head, making him look like he got stuck in a wall socket, even crazier than usual.

but gojo didn't look at you, just planted himself between you and the group, bruised fists clenched (they trained him too hard), and shoulders set, "what's your problem?"

the other kids stammered, clearly surprised, but that didn't stop him, he who looked like a small, lanky and angry polar bear.

"you think you're so funny? talking like that? say it again, and i'll knock your teeth out."

"ah, satoru -" you ran your tongue behind your teeth, the last thing everyone needed was another fight of bruised pride, and yanked hair, rolling around in the dust.

but one of the boys had muttered something under his breath, taking a half-step back. the others followed, shuffling, rolling their eyes and looking anywhere but at you and gojo.

and your best friend didn't move until they had scattered completely, leaving behind only the faint echos of their derision as they fled. and then he turned to you, his scowl fading into something kinder (good, you didn't like seeing him so upset) as he dropped onto the bench, beside you, pulling his knee up onto the bench so he could rest his chin against it casually.

"they're just idiots," he said, rolling his eyes, and his voice was softer, playful again, "don't listen to them."

you gave him a small smile, nodding, as the knot in chest loosened a little, "i wasn't really listening to them," you murmured, even though you probably knew that was a bold-faced lie.

gojo released a loud laugh, much too loud and forced, as he nudged you with his elbow, and he must have known it too, but he was smiling, "good, that's the spirit."

You managed a small smile, nodding, the knot in your chest loosening a little.

the world was quiet again as you both sat in silence, the soft breeze ruffling the grass and the cherry blossoms overhead. and then, with a shyer glance, you managed to look over at your friend, watching as messy tufts of his snowy hair moved ever so slightly in the breeze.

"thanks, 'toru," you said, quietly, but he just shrugged it off, brushing it away as though it was nothing.

"hey, what am i here for?"

✉️ — 2003. 💬 — you.

gojo was sprawled across your wide bed, looking at you as if you were the most ridiculous person in the entire world. his own suitcase sat beside him, already paced with the very few things he needed, and now he watched you with that eager, restless gleam in his blue eyes, like he could barely sit still.

"you're so overthinking this," he said, bright voice full of impatience, "just throw some stuff in a bag, and we're good to go. it's just tokyo, not the end of the world."

you scowled at the boy, holding up two sweaters; one sensible in a shade of pale blue, and the other thick, deep red and woollen, "but what if it gets cold? or rains?"

gojo rolled his eyes, throwing his head back dramatically onto your pillow, hands behind his head as he sprawled around like a snooty prince with all the time in the world.

"it's summer, it's tokyo, and it's not like we're moving to america," he smiled, "besides, if you pack any slower, we'll miss our first year."

you tried to brush it off, and something about his easy confidence made you feel a sharp twinge of nerve. this was really happening, you were truly leaving the bounds of your family estates, stepping out into the world, to attend jujutsu tech, a school in tokyo that you had heard so much about. well, there was another school here, in kyoto, but god, it would just be nice to get out of these ancient walls.

and yet -

gojo simply looked like he couldn't wait to shake the dust of his home off his sneakers, you felt something pull at you, like a sudden-appearing string that tied you to your home city, and it wouldn't let you go.

your best friend had caught the look on your face, and softened — just a bit, as he twiddled with a brand new pair of sunglasses, and he sat up closer, watching you carefully, "you're really going to miss it here, aren't you?"

and you shrugged, fidgeting with the sleeves of the red sweater, "i don't know. maybe, i suppose. don't you feel that way at all, satoru?"

he shook his head, resolute, "not even a little," but he saw your uncertainty, "listen, you'll be fine. you'll love tokyo. and hey," he nudged you gently with his knee, "i'll be right there with you anyway."

you appreciated that his confidence felt like a promise, something that you could at least hold onto, even in the big capital, and with a big, exaggerated sigh you tossed both sweaters into the suitcase.

"finally!"

✉️ — 2003. 💬 — gojo.

the both of you had arrived, bright-eyed and tired, as he clambered off the tall bus that had parked on the outskirts of tokyo, where jujutsu high was located.

gojo stood beside you, hands stuffed in his denim pockets, plastering a disinterested expression on his face. but he couldn't help how his eyes flittered to the sid,e underneath the dark shades of his glasses, watching you fawn over another new student, another boy who had arrived from some small town, who-knows-where, from a non-sorcerer family.

geto suguru.

well it was no lie that gojo liked him a lot too. there was no denying that he seemed polite, clever, maybe a bit shy. and effortlessly cool.

gojo had grown up in the stifling, grand estates of the big clans, constantly fussed over, and robed in fine silks printed with his clan motifs. all of those stuffy rules would sit, push around and make space in one's head, like a constant mantra from the elders.

he didn't need to look at you too closely to see what was going on, and he could tell right away, just from how you reacted. your smile stretched wider, and your eyes lit up like you were meeting someone who you really wanted to talk to.

geto who hadn't even changed into his uniform yet, with his stray strands of dark hair falling out of the knot on the back of his head, looking politely aloof, but cheerful, in worn black jeans and converse, and some baggy band t-shirt that would get gojo scolded by his mother for even wearing that inside the estate.

gojo noticed everything, especially the way your fingers slipped up to tuck your hair behind your ear when geto grinned at you (all because you’d recognised the band on his t-shirt, so what?) he saw how your eyes brightened, like geto suguru had unlocked some hidden code only you could decipher.

it annoyed him to realise that geto's calm, quiet charm was exactly the kind of thing you’d be drawn to. that’s what you liked, wasn’t it? the understated, thoughtful types who let the world come to them. not the loudmouth who cracked jokes at every opportunity, hoping to pull a laugh from his best friend.

well, fuck, he had to be a part of this too now.

✉️ — 2005. 💬 — both.

gojo's new obsession had a sleek, silver body and an olympus logo stamped on it in black, a camera that he'd been itching to buy; refusing to settle for anything less than the latest model. suddenly, he was determined to capture tokyo through his own eyes, and you and your friends had quickly become his reluctant muses on an impromptu day trip to the ameya-yokocho market.

"stop! stay right there, don't move! fuck, no! a little to the left!"

he waved his hands around, motioning for everyone to gather just as he wanted. you all exchanged amused glances, with shoko huffing around dramatically, as gojo crouched down on his long legs, then stood back up, and then crouched down again, as one of jujutsu high's most powerful sorcerers struggled to bring a camera into focus.

eventually, geto had laughed — raven hair falling over his beautiful face, and had gotten up to help gojo, fiddling with the lens as the rest of you milled around.

and then, suddenly gojo turned the camera directly on you. he pointed his finger your way, wide grin half-hidden but unmistakably earnest, 'c'mon, turn that frown upside down!'

he needn't have said a word, just seeing your best friend there, with his hair tousled and carefree grin, with the camera strap hanging off his neck, was enough to make you laugh, the kind that felt as bright as it sounded.

and so, you found yourself standing in the middle of the bustling market street, surrounded by friends and fellow students, and the lively hum of the weekend crowds, as you looked directly into the lens, with your smile softening under his gaze, as though the rest of the world had blurred into the background.

afterwards, gojo had taken a good look at the photo, and he didn't say much, but the look on his face lingered, almost like he was seeing something that he wasn't sure he was allowed to hold onto. you had shyly asked him later, coming up beside his shoulder, whether he had printed a spare copy of the photo, but he shook his head with the lie rolling off his tongue.

love was a selfish endeavour, to its core. he wasn’t about to tell you that he wanted to keep that photo for himself. and later, when no-one was looking, he slipped the small print into his wallet, right between his train pass and some spare change.

✉️ — 2006. 💬 — you.

your best friend, your dear satoru, had always been resilient; the kind of guy who threw himself at life with reckless energy, shrugging off injuries like they were just a part of the ride. he'd laugh off a scraped knee or a bloodied lip, flashing that cocky grin and a shrug as if pain was something for other people.

life for you went on, with your own routines and small moments. you learnt long ago that you didn't quite possess the natural, raw sheer jujutsu power that gojo had (or geto for that matter) but you could certainly hold your own in a scuffle. regardless, you had chosen to turn to academics, flitting between classes and study sessions, arm in arm with sweet shoko.

there was joy in sneaking off campus with friends, or scrolling through lists of new albums to download onto your mp3 player (you had been partial to the south korean boyband, tvxq!).

and so, life seemed both incredibly mundane and slightly electric, with days marked by shy smiles and inside jokes, with walks home on the streets wet from the spring rain.

but it had been late summer when gojo had returned from that last mission, when the days were still long and hot and the afternoons were bathed in a thick, heavy amber. and he had come back...different.

he moved carefully, as though each step was suspicious and took more effort than he'd let on, and his usual bright glimmer was dimmed, his laughter quiet, and his smiles withheld like a rare currency. he'd sit through the long evenings with you, in silence more often than not, hands stuffed into his wide pockets as he stared at a place that you just couldn't reach.

when you'd catch him alone in the courtyard after class, he'd be training hard, working through his cursed techniques with a relentless focus, perfecting each hand gesture as if he could shake off whatever shadow lingered behind him. and sometimes, he'd stay for hours after school, practicing beneath the dying and dusty light of the last days of summer, as if he could not afford to stop, to rest.

“gojo?” you called, hesitating as he finished a strike to some poor unsuspecting pile of soda cans, leaving them obliterated in the heat. “what's going on with you?”

he paused mid-motion, glancing at you, his face carefully blank. and you hated that, you hated how the flicker of distress would pass from his face before being schooled into that carefully constructed mask of 'the strongest.'

i love you, idiot. i love you, i love you, tell me what's bothering you and i will help, you're my best friend.

but these words never saw the light of day, always curling up and choking up in your throat, and instead being twisted into feigned, casual interest. losing the cloak of deep devotion that you held for a friend of ten years.

"oh - hey! nothing," gojo replied, too quickly, with that half-cocked smile that painted over his pink lips, "nothing that deep."

lately, this repeated lie had been hanging in the air between you, clear as the last streaks of summer sunlight that would soon give way to fall.

you crossed your arms over your uniform, dark fabric crinkling, "you're not fooling anyone, you know. geto told me about the mission, he said that you —," you swallowed, with the words just as heavy as the steadfast beat of your heart that you kept under lock and key, "he said you shouldn't have come back. what does that even mean?"

gojo's face flickered again, just for a second, before he barked out that irritating, false chuckle, "guess it's a good thing you weren't sent on tengen's fuckin' mission then," before reaching out and snatching your strawberry milk carton from your hands with a grin.

after a few punctuated slurps and lip-smacking (just to watch your face redden in fury, gojo would admit) he spoke again, voice strained, "you'd probably be crying about it still."

"hey!" you protested, grabbing for the carton again, prying his slender fingers off your sweet treat, "i don't cry that easily."

"could've fooled me. you cried during that american movie about zoo animals."

"madagascar was a sad movie about displacement and the loss of home! i know animal rights activists hate to see your ass coming to the zoo."

gojo snickered, drawing out the words, "fuck that zebra," but now, he was looking off into the golden haze of a beautiful sunset, with that frayed grin, "seriously, though. it's fine, it's all in the past."

over time, gojo never spoke many a word about what happened to the star plasma vessel, but he just seemed to move forward, like he always had. his resolve somehow sharper, tighter, and his laughter more intense when it finally did return. there were moments when you'd catch him staring into the great expanse of nothing, haunted (but beautiful), though he'd just shrug and smile when you prodded him about.

✉️ — 2007. 💬 — gojo.

gojo thought he was astoundingly self-aware, in his own humble opinion. he never let anything get to him, that was the trick, you see. to take life as it came at you, to carry that fire and stubbornness and throw it back in the face of the trouble.

and so he wanted to be angry, to be furious. why had suguru done this? why?

he had known that geto, one of his dearest friends (one who always been so sure of himself) had fallen into disquiet lately, and even gojo had prodded him on whether he had lost weight through sleepless nights. but suguru would have just turned his head back to his book, lost in thought, with his dark hair loose around his face.

had he been blind? how had suguru's silence been covered by what gojo (privately) considered his own loud, defiant return? no, he knew of ghosts. he knew that some spirits and spectres could not be shaken, and sometimes when gojo himself closed his eyes, he could feel the sharp sting of an assassin's blade ramming through his throat, leaving him for dead.

but to murder over a hundred innocent people...

you had found him alone that evening, where he had sprawled over the stairs as the sunset blazed, painting them aglow in dusky hues. but gojo could barely notice any of this beauty, and so he just stared, lost in his thoughts that wouldn't settle.

(are you the strongest because you're satoru gojo? or are you satoru gojo because you're the strongest?)

he didn't hear you approach, until you placed a gentle hand on his shoulders, causing him to flinch, surprised out of his sorrowful reverie.

the warmth of your touch steadied him, and he glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, and he wondered how you could always seem to know exactly when he needed you most.

but the thought twisted, sharp and bitter, for what if you would follow suguru the same way? had you not often looked at geto with light in your eyes? and you had never looked at him like that.

what if, someday, you left him the same way? what if you turned around and saw someone else worth following? he couldn't help his fists from clenching, tension rippling down his shoulders and painfully gripping his head.

"suguru..." his voice came out quieter than he meant, with a crack that he couldn't quite hide, and he heard you sharply inhale, "i can't believe he's gone. i don't know if...if i'll ever see him again. why would he -?"

you still didn't say anything, just tightening your hand on his shoulder. and satoru hated it. hated that he wanted to lean into the weight of your touch, hated that this is what being the strongest now entailed. that now he was plagued by fear, of losing you, of watching you slip through his fingers into another's orbit.

i'm only seventeen. what happened to my youth?

the thoughts are acidic, cynical and they leave him angry (with the world, with the higher ups, with himself, with his parents) and he can't help himself from blurting out the next question.

"did you like him?"

gojo tries to keep his tone light and casual, but he loathes how he sounds pleading, heavier. he feels the embarrassment of vulnerability shroud him as you meet his eyes, and he hates how your eyes are teary too.

you shouldn't cry. ever.

"like? as in like?"

"as in love," gojo mutters, "shoko said you did."

you sniff, and now your head is leaning on his shoulder and he can inhale the scent of your shampoo (apples? caramel?) and despite the crick in his neck, he lowers his shoulder further down so you are more comfortable.

"shoko talks too much sometimes," you laugh weakly, "but probably. i think i did."

gojo tries to tamper down the acrid lurch in his stomach, but you continue, "i think i did love him. but so did shoko. so did nanami, and haibara back when, -" you sigh, "and so did you. we all loved him. he was our friend."

his fingers had been hovering close to your hand for a while, almost as if he couldn't help himself, the pull. finally, he slid his smallest finger to let it curl around yours, drawing out a memory from over a decade ago.

"tell you what, when i become my clan head, i'll make sure you get the nicest robes, how's that?" "promise?" "why not?"

how silly that the hardest things in life had once been a bored child, and his new friend who fretted about her future wardrobe.

and when you clasped in hand entirely in its return, gojo's breath caught, his throat tightening. the words that he wanted to say, to spill from his throat, hovered in his mind but there was no infinite word strong enough to bring them out.

he wasn't an idiot, he wasn't daft and unobservant, he knew exactly what he wanted to say to you, to tell you from his lips to yours. but the way his heart laid itself bare in that moment unsettled him deeply, not the yearning itself, but how fierce it was. it disgusted him, the rawness of his desire, exposed right there in the open, where anyone could see it, including you. especially you.

with a realisation that was long coming, beneath the golden wash of the setting sun, he sighed deeply. if he ever lost you, if you ever looked at him with the same betrayal that he'd seen in suguru's eyes, he didn't know if he could survive it. it would cut deeper than his infinity could bear.

he tried speaking again, "if you ever -" but he doesn't get the chance to speak before you're leaning further into him, a quiet sniffle punctuating the silence.

"i won't."

✉️ — the next decade... 💬 — you.

"sweetheart, honey, my precious pumpkin pie."

you shot gojo a death glare, his attempt at flamboyant charm bouncing right off you, "i hate you. never speak to me again."

and your gaze dropped to what was left of your beautiful hermès scarf, once a beautiful concoction of cream-white silk, now reduced to tatters that fluttered pitifully in your hands, stained with some suspicious green goop.

you had cherished this pricey product, but gojo, in his infinite wisdom had decided to pick it up as a perfect blindfold right before a gnarly mission. and so, it got tangled with a nasty curse, and met its tragic, shredded end.

gojo raised his brows, feigning the innocence of a cherub, blinking his long lashes, "i'm sorry, i'll get you a new one, baby."

he drew out the pet name with exaggerated gusto that made you snarl, "enough with the pet names. you are a grown ass man."

and you gave him a first shove in the ribs that made the strongest sorcerer in the world stagger dramatically, only to catch himself with that easy grin still plastered on his face.

but before you could storm off and mourn whatever was left of your one-million yen possession, gojo darted in front of you, blocking your path with his ridiculously long arms. "come on, let me make it up to you, what if i had died on that mission?" he pleaded, looking at you with mock sincerity.

"i wouldn't have even come to the funeral," you sniffed, sticking your nose in the air, ignoring the fake choking sounds that came from the man as he clutched his chest.

months had turned into years, where you and gojo had grown up and graduated jujutsu tech together, carrying triumphs (you won valedictorian, out of a grand total of eight students), losses (gojo was a notoriously bad driver and almost crashed the car that the two of you were in) and countless moments in between.

the two of you had returned to your alma mater as teachers, and mentors, guiding younger sorcerers who were much like you'd once been; eager, impatient, and a little rough around the edges.

gojo took to teaching like he did most things, with his own reckless charm and devil-may-care attitude. he'd joke about skipping staff meetings, but he'd be there anyway, leaning back in his chair with his legs sprawled underneath him, mouthing snarky comments that only you could hear.

you'd like to think you'd grown more confident, no longer the uncertain teenager who used to glance at herself twice in the mirror. time had given you the chance to learn your strengths, and exorcising curses had left you all the more enduring.

gojo had noticed, though he'd never say it outright. he'd make some teasing comment about the way you would boss around a room, and you'd roll your eyes as you nudged him telling him that you had learnt from the biggest ego in tokyo. but sometimes, he'd watch you a little longer than he should, with that flicker in his gaze that he thought you hadn't noticed.

some things hadn't changed at all, and he still came back to you after every mission, every right. you'd hear him shuffling in from down the hall, his paper bags of desserts swinging as he tried to balance it along with his jacket, and whatever ridiculous trinket he'd picked up for you that week (you kept every single one).

and there the two of you would be, sitting cross-legged on your apartment floor, sharing sweets straight out of the boxes. he'd pass you a slice of cheesecake that he insisted that you simply must try, nudging your hand until your fingers enveloped his.

wouldn't it be a lie to claim that you didn't bask in the warmth of your best friend's gaze, even as he feigned interest in some story that he had overhead from the students on his way over from the school, with his low laughter filling the quiet around you.

sometimes, in the silence that would fall after the conversation ebbed, he’d reach over and trace circles absentmindedly on the back of your hand with his thumb, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. neither of you would move or speak. gojo would be looking anywhere but at you, yet his hand wouldn’t let go, tethering you to him in a way that made the apartment feel smaller — almost as if you’d already crossed some line neither of you dared to talk about.

what a pain to be haunted by someone who was already living and breathing right in front of you. sometimes, it left you nauseous, ill, and even screaming into your pillow after he left, and dialing shoko's number so she could give you an earful.

✉️ — october, 2018 💬 — you.

your car idled at the curb, the sounds of the city filtering in through the barely open window, with the faint chill of the october night brushing against your skin.

gojo looked up from his phone, tapping his fingers on the screen, and there was a sober look on his face that made your stomach twist. you watched as he ran his head through his white hair, and sighed, his eyes still on the screen.

"apparently i was summoned by name," he said quietly, "to shibuya. whatever curtain's been set up is only allowing sorcerers through."

you kept one hand on the wheel, "ijichi reached out to me too, but he wants me covering the perimeter on the other side, away from the metro. but who would summon you by name?"

"i know. do you think it's...?"

"the traitor everyone's guessing about? who else?"

gojo scoffed a little, "fuckin' surprise," he muttered, casting you a glance that spoke volumes of protectiveness, one that made you lurch ever so slightly. his eyes met yours, an unspoken worry passing between you. you bit the inside of your lip to keep yourself from blurting out the words that lived in the forefront of your mind.

and so, gojo reached for the door handle, and you saw him hesitate as his fingers drummed against the door, before pulling his blindfold up, "well, stay safe, yeah?"

you swallowed, trying to find some false platitude to offer back, "hey, i will if you will."

he gave a short laugh that must have not fully reached his eyes, but it softened the rest of his beautiful face in that way that you loved, "y'know, we could have been going trick-or-treating. dressed like idiots, stuffing our face with candy."

"tweedledee and tweedledum?"

gojo snorted, "next year then."

you hummed, "i'll keep that idea then, tweedledumb."

the bow of his lips quirked, and he looked away again before pushing himself out of the car, stepping out onto the suddenly cold, quiet sidewalk (too quiet, where was everyone?)

he paused, turning back to you through the window, as he lifted his hand up in a small wave, and you could tell he wanted to say something else — but the moment passed, and he closed his mouth, smiling instead in that way of his that said everything without a single word. and he pushed his hands back into his pocket, strolling away as you sat there, suddenly ever so lonely in your silent car, as chills went down your spine.

✉️ — october, 2018 💬 — you.

"gojo satoru has been sealed."

what the fuck?

the world has slowed down, every sound muffled as if you'd been submerged underwater. shibuya had left gojo sealed in the prison realm by...no. it couldn't be.

suguru geto was dead. dead, executed. had it not been almost a year? you had mourned, gojo had grieved. and yet, the impossible had clawed its way into reality, leaving you feeling like you were teetering on the edge of something dark and unknowable.

soon the shock twisted into dread, an icy grip that clenched tight around your chest, left the blood draining from your face. god, your hair must just turn as white as his from the stress alone. your best friend, the one who had been beside you in sickness and health.

it was cruel, you thought, to not even be allowed the time to fall apart, now now. there was little space for it in the chaos that had erupted the next day, when waves of curses crashed through the city like nothing you had ever seen. what fresh hell was this, you wondered as you nursed a nasty set of wounds, trailing after (tormented, sweet, far too young) itadori yuji, and his supposed older brother, some blood manipulation user that had done his fair share of damage throughout the night.

the culling games.

the brutality of it shocked you, and several times during the upcoming days, you had to blink back hot tears as sorcerers were summoned, drafted, and thrown into what was quickly a gladiator spectacle, some devilry concocted from geto's, no, kenjaku's mind. and the stakes were not just your own survival, but the students you had mentored — the young souls who had grown under your watch, and needed you now more than ever.

it quickly cost you an eye. a clash with a fierce, blood-thirsty wayward sorcerer had left you bloody and bruised with a clean gash that ran through your right eye, and you had screamed, taken a life even. only the baritone, dulcet tone of the yuji's half-curse brother (choso? a member of the kamo clan? since when did half-curses even exist?) had pulled you away from launching the contents of your stomach over the pavement, as you stared at the crimson dripping off your hands. were you supposed to be grateful that you had survived this, when so many others had not? yuji's tears had kept you awake in the night, his sobs when he thought that no-one could hear him.

gojo's absence had become a wound, raw, with a side of constant ache that you could feel with every waking heartbeat. and so you tried to fight hard with his voice echoing in your ears, remembering the half-smile he'd flash when you'd land a difficult hit, or the grateful look in his eyes knowing that his students were safe.

days blurred together, and nights bled into ceaseless combat, of the terror of being on the run, and still gojo was with you. the thought of finding him, the thought of him being unsealed from the prison realm almost had you blurting false, desparate promises to the sky that you would tell him exactly what you felt for him, bare your heart out in its entirety for him to hold in his hands.

like it had always been.

✉️ — november, 2018 💬 — you.

it was surreal seeing him again, unsealed and standing there against the burnt umber of the sky, rough around the edges but undeniably gojo. nineteen days of living with the ache of his absence, of waking every morning with a hollow flower blooming in your chest, he was here — alive, breathing, real.

but god, it had been so beautiful to meet his blue gaze once more, and that fleeting smile cross his face before he rushed to pull you into his arms, closing the distance and pulling you into his arms with a new strength that almost lifted you off your feet. and if you closed your eye, you could pretend that nothing had happened, nothing at all. that it was just you pressed against the warm, beating heart in gojo's chest, unrestrained and fierce as thick arms pulled you close, filling your senses with smoke, and earth, and long-spilt blood.

"don't you look eye catching?"

you huffed and leaned away from him, slamming your fist on hard muscle in exasperation, but if you hadn't turned your gaze away, you would have seen gojo's eyes twitch as he took in your battle-worn appearance, the scar that ran underneath bandages where an eye would have once been. if you had paid more attention, you would have heard his intake of breath as he ran his tongue behind his teeth, with a vow, a promise.

"guess who's going to kick sukuna's ass so far back to the heian era," gojo murmured, and you let out a shaky laugh that echoes all the way down to the marrows of your bones.

"yeah, i thought you were just all talk."

"i'm still alive, aren't i?" he shot back, cocky and boyish once more, and your eyes traced over him, drinking in every small change, the sharper clench in his jaw, the tautness in his frame, the way his shoulders seemed broader, like he had been carved up in the prison realm anew. and it leaves you melancholic.

in another universe, the two of you were still young, hand in hand underneath the blue sky as the cool breeze ran through your hair. but battles had turned to war, and the night had no time for what ifs.

"hey, don't go worrying about me," gojo murmured, almost as though he had caught the shadow in your heart, and he plastered a grin on his face, stretching his toned arms in some show of nonchalance, but his gaze lingered on the ruins too long, on the mottled group of assembled sorcerers who seemed to brim with new-found confidence at his return.

and when he finally looked back at you with a new dullness in your eyes, a heaviness you hadn't seen in a long time. it left a dead weight in your chest, but you forced yourself to return his own bland smile, playing along with the front he was trying to maintain, "well, i guess i'll have to keep you out of trouble from now on."

✉️ — november-december, 2018 💬 — you.

the month began to stretch and pass in a blur on the endless horizon, complete with the aching and unbearable waiting where you knew something was going to happen, and yet you did not know when and where. shoko had forgone her own exhausation to see to the rest of the wounds, the ones that had festered under bandages and grimes, leaving faint trails over your skin but she had shaken her head sadly when it came to the socket on your face, even she could not restore an eye.

gojo had swapped his suits and jackets for loose martial pants, and a tight black top that had clung to the muscular frame that he'd honed over the years, laughing off your concerns like they were nothing more than passing clouds.

"don't fret," he'd say, "how bad could this be? you know i told yuji once that even if sukuna was at his full power, i'd still wipe the floor with him. you believe me right?"

you weren't sure if his question was cocky, or a plea, and the fatigue had caused you to snap, "and now, yuji flinches when he hears loud sounds, and he's just another kid who can't fuckin' stop wringing his hands in blood! look what you've done to him!"

gojo's eyes had twitched afterwards, the corner of his mouth pulling down, but he hadn't gotten angry. and you hated it. you hated it all.

but you had wanted to believe in him, in his optimism. you wanted to let his smooth words settle into your bones like the warm comfort they should have been. but how could you feel at ease when everyone was now playing a role? each sorcerer in this building was feigning whatever mask or persona that they had painted and drawn across their face, just as you had. just as gojo did.

but nothing was the same anymore.

and neither were you.

the loss of your eye, the streaks of scars on your skin haunted you. it felt cowardly to say, but this was not the life you should have lived. you simply just didn't see yourself as strong enough, and your eyes watered thinking about the days when you dallied under a clear sky, skirts swaying along the grass as you trailed after your best friend, catching fireflies, exploring shrines, falling to the earth in child-like innocence.

the hollow space on your face, the empty socket served as a reminder of what you had survived, of the world that had fallen into pieces. was there anyone here who would recognise themselves in the mirror anymore?

some nights, the world felt impossibly still, and you would sit at the window and press your hands to the cold of the glass as you watched a scarred city sprawl ahead of you.

you didn't turn at the sound of footsteps at first, and you sat there, with your fingers still dancing on the edge of the window. you closed your eyes as you felt him approach, close, but not enough — you wished he would sit by you, press his soft head to your own, close enough for you to hold him in your hands, curl into his skin.

"satoru, can you make another promise?"

gojo's steps had paused, just a breath but it was enough to know that you had his attention. but when he spoke, "please tell me we're not doing theatrics right now," his voice was laced with that same dismissive edge that he always used when he was trying to push the truth far away.

"can't you shut up, just once? promise me you won't let sukuna kill you, i can't even imagine -" and how irritating, and how melancholic (fuck, this was like a bad soap opera) that your throat was already tightening, your voice wavering with tears that you had been holding back for weeks.

for a moment, gojo didn't respond, and he just stood there and you needn't have turned around to know that there was no trace of laughter nor joy on his face. no easy smirk to deflect the gravity of your well-founded fears. and the silence left you cold.

for the first time, you were suddenly hoping that he might say something blasé, to tell you to stop worrying, to brush it off and just reassure you. but he didn't, he was quiet.

and so you turned to face him, and you felt almost villainous for verbalising your future grief like this, to one who must already have carried such an eternal, heavy burden.

no longer did the blue of his eyes shine like a spring sky, with feather-like clouds that danced in his iris. now, there was only a fractured storm. and god, you loathed that for the first time in what must have been years, his own face was reddening, his eyes suddenly teary, clouds gathering torrential rain.

you knew he hated being seen like this. over a decade of holding him close to your heart had made you privy to his ways, to the way that he'd furiously rub at his face when upset, as if he could will the distress away and hide his tears.

gojo had outstretched his little finger towards you now, hooking it with your own, and your heart stuttered as he brought your finger to his lips, so quick that a ghost may have brushed your skin, with the seal of a promise.

"i will try. god, i swear, i...i promise, i will try." and you knew that gojo satoru was scared, terrified even of what december 24th would bring.

"i -"

you wanted to say it all, wanted to tell him everything. but the words stuck in your throat, love and want and need and ferocious, capricious grief all sat lodged within your beating heart that was so tightly bound in iron chains.

it was a shameful thing. you should have sat there, and comforted him instead. should have told him that it was alright, and you did not know a more powerful and capable sorcerer than he, that he'd leave sukuna in ashes. should have laid your hand on his brow to soothe the lines away from his pale, streaked face.

but you had always been selfish, held onto your heart like a being of folklore, guarded and self-assuming. you wept heart-aching tears, feeling them pool in your sleeves, and run hot salt trails over your lips. maybe it was a testament to how much gojo satoru loved you too, that he could not bear to see you in such grief, and he hesitated.

then he turned to leave you by the window.

✉️ — december 24, 2018 💬 — you.

the turn of the year felt cold, far too chilly, even though the night was still young. the city lights twinkled in solitary clumps outside, but they were just as dim as the heavy weight in your chest. the walls seemed to close in as gojo prepared to leave, to face sukuna — the king of curses. and you couldn't shake the feeling that something was slipping through your fingers, something that you would never be able to grasp again, no matter how tightly you gripped.

everyone had wished him luck, calling your their bravest words of encouragement as he walked past them, their voices echoing through the hall, as they slapped him on the back.

they all cheered the same platitudes.

"go fuck sukuna up!"

"language!"

"sorry, choso."

"show him what you're made of!"

"prove that you're not just a pretty face, gojo!"

and so you had plastered the same smile on your face, hoping that it would reach your eyes as gojo winked at you, "hey, before you start telling me off, now it's your turn to promise me something."

you had cocked your head up at him, ignoring shoko's narrowed, tired eyes, "yeah?"

"mhm," satoru nodded, pulling his arms around you, "after this, after all this bullshit, we get to take a vacation."

a barked laugh escaped you, before it collapsed into a giggle, "you want paid leave? that's all it is?"

your best friend's large hands gripped you, flat against your back, "yeah, that's all there is. we're gonna go take a holiday, sit by the beach, watch the ocean. keep it simple."

"a picnic too, eh?"

gojo nodded, humming, "we'll plan everything. about time we got to take a break. i'll be back before you even know it."

you felt his voice hitch against your ear, and your heart twisted painfully in response, he wasn't saying it but you both knew the cold truth, there was a real chance that he may never come back. before your vision could blur, you pressed his lips to his cheek, letting them linger for a moment on smooth skin (and you felt his arms tighten around you) and hoped that whatever you hoped to say, whatever spine you lacked, could be expressed so swiftly.

"come back then, please. i'll be ready." you whispered between his skin and your lips, the tremble leaving no space for air in your lungs.

for a moment, he didn't answer, just held you, and you tried to focus on the feeling of his chest rising and falling in slow, measured breaths. then, just as you were about to pull away, he spoke, the words falling from his mouth, so familiar and so effortless.

"of course i will. i always do."

there was a flicker of something raw there in his eyes, and you had seen it both before and after shibuya. his lips parted as if he were about to say something, but whatever it was, it never came. instead, he just nodded, a silent promise — unspoken, but felt deep in your bones.

without another word, he turned toward the door. and just before stepping out, he looked back one last time. that smile, that arrogant, confident smile that always made your heart race —i t was there, but it wasn’t the same. it was stretched thin, fragile. his blue eyes were tired, haunted, and for a moment, you saw the truth — the part of him he always kept hidden. the fear. the doubt.

"i'll be back," he repeated, but this time, it didn’t sound like a joke. it sounded like a prayer. a desperate, half-broken promise from the closest thing that the world had to a god.

you couldn’t speak. your heart was lodged in your throat, and the words that you needed to say just wouldn’t come. you wanted to tell him that you loved him, that you always had, that you were scared to lose him, that the world without him in it felt like a hollow echo of what it could be. but you couldn’t.

instead, you just nodded, your face a mask of emotions you couldn’t express.

and then, with one final look, a look that held everything neither of you had the courage to say — he stepped out into the cold, his footsteps fading into the distance.

✉️ — december 24, 2018 💬 — you.

gojo satoru was dead.

dead. killed.

for a moment, you stood frozen in the doorway of shoko's office, numbness seeping into your bones with a furious grief as you stared at the cold, unmoving form that was once satoru.

fuck, there was bile in your throat as a once lively boy now lay in four pieces, cleanly sliced by sukuna's unforgiving technique, and the sight was a nightmare made so real, something that you just couldn't reconcile with the man who had once been so vibrantly alive.

the warmth that had always clung to him had vanished, leaving his skin pale in the grasp of rigor mortis, and his lips were still flecked with dried blood that had painted a stark contrast against his stiff skin.

and his eyes, those striking blue eyes that used to glint with love and hope and dreams, were now dull, and still open. you had not the heart to close them, for once your hand pulled his eyelids down, you would never see them again, never look into his eyes until it was your time to pass from the circles of the world.

the last thing you’d seen of him had been that cocky grin, that wink that seemed so unbreakable, that laugh that lingered even as he left your embrace. he’d held you, promised you that he would come back, but now, as you stood there, that promise felt like a cruel lie, something that should’ve warned you but instead gave you nothing but hope.

you choked on a breath, your hand coming up to your mouth as you felt the weight of your unspoken words sink down like lead. i should have told him. you’d wanted to say it all, to let him know how much he meant to you, to tell him that he was your everything. but the words had died in your throat, held back by fear, by the delusion that there’d always be another chance, that he’d always come back.

you’d believed him. you’d believed, with every part of yourself, that he’d make it out alive.

but here he was, torn apart, the last shreds of life stolen from him by the king of curses. you had seen him being cut down, like a sheaf of wheat under a god's sickle, how sudden and gut wrenching it had been, and for the second time in a month, you had been on the edge of hurling onto the stone. but this time, the half-curse beside you, choso, hadn't stopped you from losing the contents of your stomach, as instead he had pressed his younger brother's cries to his broad chest, the grief swallowing the entire room.

gojo hadn’t been given the chance to fight back, hadn’t even been able to draw a breath before he’d been torn apart. and that final thought — that he’d been caught off guard, helpless, alone in his last moments — left you feeling shattered, grief clawing at you with merciless hands.

your knees felt weak as you moved toward him, your trembling fingers reaching out to touch his face, cold and unyielding beneath your hand. you traced the lines of his face, memorising every detail, as if somehow, through touch alone, you could keep a piece of him with you. a tear slipped down your cheek, landing on his lips, lips that had once murmured promises, had brushed against your skin in fleeting, unspoken moments. the tear brought moisture once more to the blood that splattered his face, but quickly, it disappeared, drying and taking away any life.

"i should’ve told you,” you whispered, your voice broken, raw, laced with the pain of regret, "i don't know if you ever knew how much i loved you."

you closed your eyes, the silence thickening around you, pressing down until it felt like you couldn’t breathe. your mind replayed every smile, every laugh, every word he’d ever spoken to you, each memory twisting the knife of grief deeper into your chest. the emptiness of the room swallowed you whole, and all that was left was the aching, unbearable reality that he was gone — that the man who had been your best friend, your confidant, your everything, was nothing more than a memory now.

you stayed there, your hand resting on his cold cheek, as if the warmth of your touch could somehow reach him, bring him back. but he was gone, and with him, he’d taken the words you’d never been able to say, the love you’d never been able to give.

and as the silence closed in around you, suffocating and absolute, you knew that part of you had died with him.

✉️ — not so long later. 💬 — you. it could only be you now, for you are the only one left.

the sun was beginning to set as you reached the shore, casting an amber glow over the ocean. the waves lapped quietly against the sand, as a gentle roll becoming a reminder that the world was still moving, even when the battles were done.

even though everything within you felt like it had come to a standstill. you clutched a folded piece of glossy card, and a box. two things that shoko said she found on him, things that she thought you should keep, she added quietly.

and so, you sat down on the sand, letting the evening wind sweep over you as you gazed out at the endless stretch of water. the ocean had always been something you had dreamed of seeing together, an endless horizon that was wild and untameable, just like gojo satoru had been. but he was gone, gone, and that promise would forever remain unkept.

you opened the folded glossy card, wincing as you tried not to press the faded creases further, brushing over the faded edges. it was dated to the fall of 2005, and you bit your lip as you saw your own image stare back at you. when the world had felt endless, and you had two wide eyes to see it with. there you were, that day in the market, laughing in the photo with your head thrown back sweetly, and you wetly laughed as you saw geto suguru's confused expression in the background, clearly exasperated with gojo's photography skills.

a choked sob escaped you as you traced your smile in the photo, so oblivious to what would come. you’d been so happy then, wrapped in a moment that had felt simple and whole. gojo had teased you relentlessly that day, snapping photos every chance he got, and you’d thought he was just being his usual, silly self. you’d never realised he’d kept this one one, never knew it meant enough for him to carry it all this time.

with a shaking hand, you opened the box, revealing the ring nestled inside. fuck.

it was beautiful, impossibly beautiful, as if he’d carefully chosen each detail with you in mind. the diamond glistened in the fading light, flecked with small blue stones that reminded you of his eyes, the eyes that used to light up every time he looked at you. this ring was supposed to be a promise, just as the ones you made when you locked little fingers — a promise he never got the chance to make, a life together that you’d both been too afraid to admit you wanted.

the first tear fell, splashing onto the sand below, followed by another, and then another, until you were trembling, the grief tearing out of you in waves, raw and unstoppable. you held the ring to your chest, clutching it as if somehow, by holding it close, you could feel him, hear his laughter, feel the warmth of his arms around you.

you could almost hear his voice on the wind, that playful edge mixed with tenderness as he called you by one of his ridiculous pet names. sweetheart, honey, my pumpkin pie, followed by your irritated huff telling him to drop those names.

but truly, here was nothing. just the sound of the waves, relentless and indifferent, echoing the hollow ache in your chest.

the what-ifs clawed at you, memories replaying over and over in your mind: moments when you’d almost reached for him, almost whispered the words, almost let your heart break free. but each time, you’d held back, too afraid to disrupt the delicate balance between you, too certain there’d be another day. but now, those moments were gone, scattered like dust in the wind, and the weight of those unsaid words felt unbearable.

you pressed the photograph to your lips, closing your eyes as if you could summon him back, if only for a moment. but when you opened your eyes, all that greeted you was the empty horizon, stretching out into nothingness.

"i love you,” you murmured, voice broken, barely more than a whisper. "i love you. i always loved you."

the words hung in the air, unheard, unanswered. it was too late, too late for confessions, too late for promises. the life you’d wanted with him, the life he’d carried in his pocket with a ring and a photograph, was gone, lost to the cruel twist of fate that had taken him from you.

you stayed there on the sand as the sky darkened, the weight of his absence pressing down on you like a storm. the wind whipped around you, cold and biting, and you shivered, clutching his ring, his memory, as if that alone could keep you grounded.

as night fell, the stars began to appear, dotting the sky with fragile points of light, distant and unreachable. and you sat there, letting the grief wash over you, lost in the silent, aching expanse of the ocean and the memories of a love that would remain forever unspoken, forever unfulfilled.

wasn't love the greatest curse of them all?

[tearsucry]

I love it! Like EVERYTHING!

Can I request angst? I love Agatha

— °˖ ⊹ ꒰ 🌑 ꒱ we wave goodbye at moons shine. — agatha harkness

content warning;          angst content mdni, young! agatha harkness, kissing, agatha is saying goodbye but reader doesn't realize, established relationship, hinted time accurate homophobia | 1.07k words

a/n.                                       okay this might be lame as angst, but honestly, THIS KIDN OF THING HURTS ME THE MOST, LEAVING STUFF. so i hope it's good, nice and acceptable for you nice readers <3 thank you for reading

the moon hung low in teh sky, casting long shadows across the village outskirts as agatha made her way to the old fishing cottage next to the pond, not far from the village. her heart was a heavy stone in her chest, each step weighing more than the last. she couldn't let her falter.

not tonight.

you were waiting, just as agatha had known you would be. you kneeled on the plank pier, beneath the towering branches of an old oak tree, your soft silhouette bathed in silver light, as if the moon itself grieved for what neither of you knew was coming.

you didn't know, but agatha did- this was the last time the two of you would see each other. her mother and coven probably figured it out by now that she was reading into books she wasn't supposed to, that she had dabbled in dark magic despite her coven's rules not to. it was only a matter of time before they would capture her and put her on a real trial.

agatha paused for a moment, watching you, etching this scene into her memory. she would need to carry it with her when she left- something to hold onto when the loneliness crept in.

"agatha," you called softly, your voice a balm to agatha's wounded soul. she stepped closer, a soft smile tugging at the corner of her mouth, but there was a question in her eyes. "I have missed you."

agatha swallowed hard and forced a smile in return. "I'm here now."

she wanted to say more. she wanted to pour her heart out, to tell you that she had missed you too, that she had spent every waking moment these past few days wrestling with what she had to do.

but she couldn't.

there were no secrets between the two of you, a poor human like you who was foolishly and madly in love with a witch would never tattle on her, and agatha also trusted you enough to not keep such a part of her hidden, despite her coven's instructions. but not this, the truth would have to stay buried, like so many other secrets that had kept you both safe in this cursed village.

you stepped closer, your hand reaching out, brushing against agatha's. "you have been distant lately. is something wrong?"

agatha shook her head. she couldn't let you see her fear, couldn't let you guess at the storm brewing just beyond the village's borders. if you knew- if you even suspected- everything would unravel and you'd be in danger of being prosecuted.

"i have had this headache," agatha started, her voice steady, though it felt like a lie. "there's been a lot on my mind."

you frowned, unconvinced. you stepped even closer now, so close that agatha could feel the warmth of your breath in the cool night air. "whatever it is," you smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and simultaneously pulling the hood of her cloak down. "I'm here to listen to all your trouble."

the young witch's chest tightened. she wanted so desperately to tell you, to share this unbearable burden. but if she told you the truth, she would only be placing you in danger and she also couldn't risk you wanting to follow her, afraid of what might the coven do if they ever found out about someone who could affirm their suspicion about her use of the darkest of magic.

agatha shook her head, trying to keep her voice steady. "there is nothing to worry about," she lied. "I just needed to see you."

she couldn't keep risking losing her composure, and without thinking, agatha leaned in, pressing her lips to yours. it was soft at first, tentative, but it deepened as the unspoken words between the two of you surged to the surface. agatha kissed you as if this moment was all she had left- as if, through the kiss, she could somehow tell you everything she was forbidden to say.

her love.

her fear.

her goodbye.

you responded in kind, your hands slipping around agatha's waist, pulling her closer. the kiss was full of longing, a silent promise, though neither of you spoke a word.

when you finally broke apart, agatha kept her forehead resting against yours, her eyes closed as she tried to hold back the tears threatening to spill. this was goodbye, even if you didn't know it.

"i should go," agatha whispered, her voice barely audible in the quiet night.

your grip tightened around her waist, unwilling to let go just yet. "stay a little longer," you pleaded softly, your breath warm against agatha's lips.

agatha's heart ached at the request. she wanted to stay, to hold you and pretend you had all the time in the world. but every moment she lingered made it harder to leave, harder to walk away for the slim hope of seeing you ever again.

"the burning should be over by now," she whispers, pulling back slightly, her hand brushing over your cheek. "but we'll see each other soon."

you smiled faintly, though there was sadness in your eyes- no matter how much time the two of you spent together, it always felt like just a few minutes. "promise?"

agatha nodded, lying through her teeth and smile. "promise."

the two of you kiss once again, but this one is much slower and longer. it lasts until your fingers are cold, until your lungs burn for air, until the stars shine brighter above you, shining just as brightly as you shone below. agatha pulls away, her hand still lingering on the curve of your jaw. she has to tear herself away. she can't stay any longer.

and so she took a step back, feeling the cold rush in between you where warmth had once been. you stood still, your arms slowly falling to your sides, the space between you now more than just physical.

with one last glance, agatha turned and began walking away, but not without waving you goodbye like she always did, her steps slow, deliberate. after that, she couldn't look back, because if she did, she knew she might never find the strength to leave.

in the clearing, the young witch's goodbye lingered, carried by the wind to you and though you didn't know it yet, your last kiss was already a memory.

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

Time to go degenerate. Can i have yae’s s/o dealing with her during heat. But s/o is too innocent to know what heat is

(Genshin Impact) Yae's innocent S/O dealing with her in heat

Fun Fact(?): Apparently foxes go into heat around June-July, so I guess this is a fitting ask.

Mild NSF-W Implications below the cut!

When S/O first came into Yae's room, they immediately rushed to her side seeing sweat come down her forehead, accompanied by heavy breathing.

(S/O) "Miko! Are you okay!?"

She was surprised by their presence, blinking twice before attempting to mask whatever she was feeling by smiling.

(Yae) "Ah, hello little one. It's...n-nothing you should concern yourself with-"

Yae felt S/O's hand against her forehead which made her flinch for a second, though S/O didn't notice that.

(S/O) "Archons, you're burning up! You should take a rest and-"

Before they could lift their palm, Yae grabbed their wrist and kept it there, closing her eyes.

(Yae) "S/O, I'm not sick...Oh dear, how to explain this..."

While she was definitely amused by S/O's innocence 90% of the time, there were also times she wanted to bash her head against the wall due to how dense they were.

It depended on how S/O handled this if it would be the 10%.

(Yae) "You are aware that Youkai pertain some of their more non-human traits, correct?"

S/O tilted their head in confusion, similar to how a dog would, forcing her to stifle back a laugh and an urge to just grab them.

(S/O) "Y-Yes...Is what happening right now similar to that?"

(Yae) "Mhm...And since it's the summer, you could say I have...instincts I wish to fulfill."

She blinked her eyes slowly and seductively at them, leading their wrist down to her waist all the while.

(Yae) "Are you following what I'm saying?"

S/O remained silent for a moment before their eyes widened.

(Yae) ...They probably have no idea what I'm even talking about.

(S/O) "Do you need to like...hunt or something, Miko?"

S/O began chuckling, seeing the image in their head of a tiny cute pink fox chasing fish around in a pond.

(S/O) "Actually, I'd like to see that!"

Yae, was less than amused.

(Yae) Okay, they're not getting it at all.

Well, there was always the direct path of just telling S/O that "I'm horny" to get the message across.

But that'd also gut a lot of the eroticism out (For S/O's case anyway, which she didn't think it was possible for that statement to lessen a person's libido) and S/O being the moron they were would probably think she had actual horns.

And by all the damned spirits in hell, would she leave her own hands to relieve her.

Now, how to fluster S/O and have them actually, y'know, help her with this heat?

...Wait, they just gave her the perfect segue-

The smirk came back to Yae in a brief second, her head leaning in next to their ear as she sat up.

(Yae) "Mmm...I can show you what I'm hunting for~."

And immediately going for a deep and hungry kiss, Yae got the message across with her actions.

Which S/O yelped a little in surprise, which was muffled by her laughing into their mouth, dragging them down into the seat with her.

...

A few hours later, S/O stumbled out of the room with Yae, both their hair looking quite disheveled, though S/O looked far more unkempt.

Yae in contrast appeared in a far more better state than before, with a smile and her ears resting in content.

S/O's clothes were barely on correctly, with several red marks on their necks and struggling to stand upright.

(Yae) "Thank you for your assistance, dear. I'll be sure to let you know when I need it."

(S/O) "...S-Sure...By the way, Miko? You never did actually tell me what you were feeling."

(Yae) "..."

She didn't respond and instead just continued to smile, pretending to not have heard the question.

How do you almost suck the life out of someone that way, and still not have them catch on to what she was feeling?!

Yae had half a mind to shock them, but decided against it. They did end up helping out in the end.

[sxfterhearts]

can I request a cute date with intak that takes place in the rain but doesn't stop them from enjoying their time together?

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ sweet bf!intak x reader ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

♡ genre/warnings: fluff!!! y/n is having a bad day but a cute rainy date with intak makes everything better <3

♡ word count: 1,216 words

♡ author's note: ahh thank you so much for requesting anon!! this is the first time i've written in over a month omg i hope you enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it :")

//

damn it. 

you were late. by 10 minutes, to be exact.

on any other day, you were punctual. but today, of all days, things just didn’t seem to be going your way.

your pre-exam tradition – two half-boiled eggs for breakfast, turned out to be very hard-boiled this morning. you rushed out of the door to catch the bus with a lingering dryness in your mouth (from the yolks, no doubt), only to realise when you were approaching the bus stop that you forgot your umbrella and there was no time to turn back. there were no free seats on the bus so you had to stand by the back door, shuffling awkwardly every time the bus made a stop. your regular seat by the window overlooking the school field was taken by some lanky, blonde boy. and to top it all off, you overheard your classmates claiming they wrote down completely different answers to yours as you dashed out of the exam hall to catch the first bus out of there.

the moment you stepped out of the bus, you felt it. 

a drop. and then another. and then one more. 

you sighed. today, of all days, why did everything have to be so difficult?

you took cover under the bus stop as rain began to fall all around you. your lips worked itself into a permanent pout as you pulled out your phone, fingers flying across the screen as you sent a quick text to update intak that you arrived at your meeting spot, and to apologise for being late.

you were meant to go on a date – the first in two weeks. a date to unwind after the exam you’ve been studying and preparing and dreading all week. a date to walk around seoul forest and be one with nature and take in the greenery, the ponds and the birds chirping. a date to spend time and be with your boyfriend, intak.

who, speaking of, was calling your name from across the street. 

“y/n!!”

you looked up, and felt your tense shoulders and furrowed eyebrows relax itself upon meeting his eyes. the weight you carried around all day gradually lightened. there he was, your boyfriend, hwang intak – happiness personified, million-watt lopsided smile, umbrella in hand. if he had a tail, you were absolutely sure it’d be wagging excitedly by now.

“hold on!” he shouted before looking both ways and sprinting towards you.

you watched, transfixed, as your happiness spread and unfolded before your very eyes. you couldn’t help but to feel your heart tug and pull you towards him.

“hey,” intak saw you and his excited smile shifted into one of understanding and empathy. he could tell, by your body language and facial expression, that today hadn’t been the best for you.

instead of exchanging greetings, you just hugged him. you wanted to; no, needed to recharge your batteries by being close to him.

intak just smiled quietly while hugging you back. as your boyfriend, he knew that you needed time to soak in the present moment and enjoy being in his embrace. he realised, as you snuggled closer, that he liked the thought of being needed like this.

after a few silent moments, you peeled away and looked up at him.

he looked back expectantly. “better?”

“so much better. i’m all recharged.” you placed a sweet kiss on his cheek and he replied by pressing his soft lips on your forehead. “but the date is ruined.”

“what do you mean?” he followed your line of sight, which was shooting daggers at the grey skies above. “we have an umbrella, y/n.” he chuckled.

“but…”

“c’mon, it’ll be a little uncomfortable, but we’ll have so much fun. trust me! here.” like magic, intak conjured up two cans from his pocket. a hot latte for you, and a can of soymilk for himself. “have this, it’ll warm you up.”

the two of you linked arms and walked around the park. while savouring your warm drinks, you pointed things out to each other. the little things, like how the water droplets gathered on a single petal or leaf, or the buds that were ready and eager to bloom into flowers, or the funny shapes of the puddles, and jumping over said puddles. you both huddled close as a chilly wind blew over you, coaxing the trees into a flamboyant dance and the leaves to rustle in a calming song, accompanied by the gentle pitter-patter of rain on your shared umbrella. you closed your eyes and took a deep breath, letting nature wash away the remnants of your tiring day. 

intak couldn’t resist the urge to take photos of you – you standing in the rain, you crouching down to admire the flowerbeds, you chasing the ducks around the pond. inevitably, he got himself wet in the process.

“it’s just a bit of rain.” intak shrugged and shot you his signature smile. he shook the droplets off his hair and sprinkled you with raindrops in the process. 

and you know what? he was right. before you met him, you used to be really set in your ways. you were not particularly spontaneous, and would feel uncomfortable if things didn’t go to plan, or worse, if there wasn’t a plan. but since meeting intak, who had a completely different outlook on life, you’ve been exposed to a new perspective. you learned to go with the flow – to let things go, to focus less on the outcome and to just have fun in the process. it was like something inside you shifted.

you found a dry patch under a big tree. using a stick, you began to draw shapes in the dirt. intak quickly caught on, and tried to add his own drawings to yours. the two of you tag teamed, taking turns drawing each stroke of an animal that the other had to guess. you failed miserably, given your lack of artistic skills. the game concluded when intak drew a heart with your names in the centre. it was so cheesy, and it made you feel like the main character’s love interest in a high school romcom, but you loved it. 

intak didn’t mind being a huge cheeseball, as long as it meant he got to see that pretty smile of yours. yes, definitely worth it, he decided as you leaned in for a kiss that tasted like a mix of coffee and soymilk– a perfect combination, he thought. after all, the boy is in love with you.

“shall we get lunch?” he asked.

“yes, but i’m craving pancakes. kimchi pancakes, vegetable pancakes… and makgeolli.”

intak shot you a knowing smile. the initial plan was to try this new viral pasta restaurant close by. that was the reason why you met near seoul forest in the first place.

but it just wasn’t the right weather for pasta – it was raining, and the only correct answer for what to eat on a rainy day in korea is pancakes and makgeolli. the sound of oil splashing and splattering when frying the pancakes, or jeon, resembled the sound of raindrops. 

intak was happy because he knew you were becoming more open to trying things, and learning to adapt. he felt his chest blossom with pride.

“i know just the right place.”

[elfarons]

You're My Religion

cw: nsfw mentions but nothing explicit, religious themes, power dynamic, (tell me if i missed any O_O)

priest!Ren who has devoted his entire life to the town's temple since birth, committed to preaching the holy gospel

he noticed how his faith started wavering, jaded after being in this lifestyle for so long, missing something...

passion.

when was the last time they felt strongly about.. anything?

this will surely past, he tells himself as he pushes through, seeing the churchgoers smile after their prayers make them feel closer to heaven, but he's never felt farther.

ren prepares for what could potentially be his last sermon, telling everyone to bow their heads in silent prayer.

he will determine whether or not he'll give up this lifestyle after this last day-

when you walk in for the first time.

as soon as you see each other, it feels like time stopped. it feels like heaven's gates opening, it feels like their heart beats for the first time in years.

it was like you were the only two people on earth as you held each others gaze.

he couldn't believe god had sent down an angel.

you smiled and broke the stare, sitting down a couple rows behind the next person.

the priest of the town's church, who is used to having eyes on him, feels hyperaware of your stare. after he finished preaching, ren beelines straight towards you, introducing themself and inviting you to one-on-one appointments to acquaint yourself with the religion.

you came to the first meeting. then the next, and the next, eventually becoming a near daily routine. after a couple weeks, the appointments started to feel more like hanging out with a best friend, conversations evolving from church topics to the more personal details.

your life recently fell apart out of nowhere. you lost your job, you're backed up on bills, then your friends have all left you. he would never leave you. every time, ren would reassure you this is a test of faith and comfort you with warm hugs that smelled of clean linen and myrrh.

his hugs always made your heartbeat faster. you hoped he never noticed.

he proposed you move into the church as a temporary solution. of course, you accepted. what choice did u have?

although he insisted it was fine, you wanted to pay him back somehow, so you started helping out around the temple.

ren was absolutely ecstatic. everyday you would see each other, if only for just a quick smile from across the room. you'd have to leave soon after, but ren would pinch his wrist and hold his pendant, cursing himself for wanting you so bad.

you were eager to help out everyday. the holy water was running out? you would assist ren in making holy water. the garden looked a little too sad? you'd tend to the plants, maybe surprise ren with a lotus from a nearby pond. the living quarters needed cleaning? ren told you to clean his room last because the others must be tired and he'd stay up late anyways.

you noticed ren had little to no decorations around his room. that's odd, considering he's lived here basically his entire life, but you didn't push the matter.

as the holidays neared the church was busy with preparations, with ren being the busiest. god he missed you. the way you'd always smile at him, show genuine interest in what he had to say, look longingly at his lips...

after entering his room, he laid down, exhausted. his bedsheets smelled so nicely of you. how did they smell of you so perfectly? whatever he's not complaining. mind wandering, he barely registered his hand trailing down into his pants, thinking about their perfect angel.

he could almost imagine that you stayed behind and you were the one touching him. or maybe he would tell you to sit back and let him worship you instead, letting his lips and hands perform a prayer so full of devotion even god would be jealous.

in the following days, they couldn't even bother to feel ashamed, even when it looked like the statues on the walls stared into his soul. their only regret was that they couldn't work up the courage to confess everything they felt to you... until tonight.

when you both finally had a chance to talk it felt like home again. you both talked well into the night about anything and everything. from how you wanted to restore the garden, to how stressed ren was about all this pressure on him and how he just needed someone, anyone.

he's done so much for you, you can practically feel your heart shatter when tears start streaming down his cheeks. he doesn't deserve this.

he shakes when you hug him, not just because he's genuinely about to break down in his angel's arms, but he's also so terribly happy.

he's got you now.

...

...

but you were never completely innocent were you?

you knew what you were doing the first day you walked in. the rumors said the priest was good-looking, so naturally you styled yourself to perfection.

the rumors weren't even close because holy shit. tall stature, flawless pale skin, broad shoulders, dark hair in a loose, low ponytail resting on their shoulder.

angels are real, and one is looking right at you.

the meetings excited you as much as they did him, feeling a guilty pleasure at how he would sometimes ignore his duties to stay with you a little longer. but eventually you would always leave for your job, hoping he'd miss you like you missed him.

you let them into your life. you knew that fire at your job was to get you laid off and spend more time with them. you knew your friends left you because you saw a figure in all black leave threatening notes on their doorsteps. you knew all the small things you purposefully forgot went somewhere for his own safekeeping.

and every time, you ran back into his arms. but what about everything he's done? why is the man who ruined your life the one you run to for comfort? aren't you scared?

ren was your guardian angel! they had always said your friends and job were toxic anyways and they'd end up hurting you in the long run, but rest assured ren would never hurt you.

after moving into the temple, you saw him everyday and it made you want him even more. even while being worked to the bone, the fleeting glances you shared across the room was enough for you to stop and collect yourself in a hidden corner, holding your heart in fear it might jump out.

eventually, small smiles across the room didn't cut it. when you headed up to ren's room to do nightly cleaning, you noticed the room just smelled so much of them. you missed ren deeply.

well... something small would be fine as long as you didn't get caught right? you laid on their bed and smelled the sheets. it was almost as if he was here, enveloping you in arms, whispering those sweet, reassuring words in your ear...

what started as innocently imagining him holding you ended with swearing to never tell him how just being in his bed had brought you to euphoric bliss.

~ ~ ~

after the festivites. you were sitting with him on that same bed, letting him cry into your shoulder. you rubbed their back up and down, soothing them until their sobs died down and they fell asleep in your arms, exhausted.

when you gently laid them down on their back, they tightly held onto you, afraid to lose you even in his sleep. as much as you wanted to stay in their arms, you didn't want to be presumptuous, so you very softly untangled yourself from their hold.

brushing a strand of hair away from their face. you fondly cupped their face and looked at ren's face while they slept. so peaceful and free from worry. but seeing them so peaceful was just what made you snap.

you wanted to keep them safe, but you had to know more. you want to see his baby pictures, you want to find his middle school diary, you want to know everything about him.

determined, you searched through everything around the room until the bookshelf was left. it consisted of mainly books relating to his studies throughout the years, but there was one book that captured your eye. Angels and their offerings.

there was a click! as you grabbed it and you whipped to ren. still asleep facing you. you felt something was loose, but the book wouldn't come out any more..?

oh. oh. a secret door. you should have guessed as much. being perfect to the public just meant being more careful with secrets.

opening the shelf-door revealed a staircase that led down to a hidden area with light emanating somewhere to the side. you tiptoed down the stairs, silently cursing and tensing whenever a step creaked. finally, you made it down and peeked around the corner to find a door with light dancing under the gap, like it's reaching out. you took its hand and opened the door.

ren has consumed your being. he's your everything.

clearly you were his too.

floors and walls covered with pictures of you, both drawn and photographed. the drawn ones depicted you in a variety of poses and situations. one was you kissing ren while sitting on his lap, another was you, as an angel, holding him while he bled out, presumably bringing him to heaven. the photographs were of your daily life doing chores and talking to the other members, but everyone else's face was crossed out to only leave you in.

starting to get flushed, you examine the back wall that displays a shrine dedicated to you. three tiers of all the belongings he's taken from you, adorned with candles.

the bottom tier was your trash, like the paper you doodled on earlier, a fork that you used at lunch last week, or your empty shampoo bottle from 3 months ago. the middle tier was stuff you purposefully left out for him, like your underwear, your necklace, or the pen you chewed on during bible study. the highest tier seemed to hold his favorites, like the, now dead lotus, the holy water jars he made with you, the sheets that smelled exactly like you.

hanging in the center was a framed photo of the day you moved in, just you and ren smiling at the camera. hearts drawn on the glass in front of your face.

before you know it, you feel two hands on your shoulders quickly spinning you around to look right into powdery blue eyes. you freeze, caught like a deer in headlights, anticipating the worst.

instead, you gasp when ren gets down on one knee, then both, kissing your hand and looking up at you like you've given him all the answers. to them, you truly looked like the most benevolent god.

ren didn't have to say anything for you to get the message.

you were who he will devote the rest of his life to, who he will make offerings for, who they will preach the gospel for.

kneeling down with him, you bestowed him the blessing of a kiss, then let him prove his faith by taking care of you in all the ways you wanted from ren. all the ways you needed from ren. their sinful fantasy of being able to worship you with hands and lips no longer a fantasy.

he will live and die for you. you will live and die for him.

you were his religion. he was yours.

author's note: MIC DROP, HAPPY HALLOWEEENNNNNN MUAHAHA !!! i decided to get a lil smutty in there because i watched secretary and i was like wait,, angel and priest ren with that yearning... a little insecure because i felt like i wrote too much while literally trying to do no dialogue orz i hope you still enjoyed tho!!

literally posting this while getting ready to go out :3 i hope you all stay safe if you celebrate or just have a good day!

ren is from @14dayswithyou , dividers by @/enchanthings !!

[swanimagines]

The Umbrella Academy: Imagine being part of Klaus Hargreeves’s cult and him falling in love with you.

requested by anon

Note: nowadays all requests are done straight to asks, this is my old template of posting and I no longer have their asks!

Your life had never been anything glamorous. It felt as if luck had decided to abandon you the moment you were born — your parents leaving you at the doorstep of a chapel shortly after birth, being taken in by nuns in a monastery, having to deal with beatings whenever you dared to question what God supposedly said. Everything was sin, you were expected to devote your life to the Lord without no one asking what you wanted.

When you were a teenager, you couldn’t take it anymore, and you ran away in the dead of the night. You successfully stole clothes as no one would suspect a nun to commit such a sin. And then you just… drifted around, doing work where you could be taken in, sleeping in the backroom of your current workplace, trying to avoid customers the best you could in fear someone would recognise you.

But one day, you met Klaus, and he just… managed to make you feel like you had finally come home for the first time, his demeanor just glowed with hope and safety. Something in him just pulled you in, and before you knew it, you lived in his manor, sitting there with other “children” and listened to this man preaching about the world and its state.

But the shadows of your past found you eventually, and one night you woke up in cold sweat, heart racing, frantically expecting one of the sisters standing there at the doorway, ready to beat you with the Bible. But then the familiar, musky scent of the bedroom filled your nostrils and you sighed, trying to calm down. You still got up from your bed and tiptoed outside, wandering into the small gazebo by the pond and sitting down. You listened to the grasshoppers, the rustle of trees as a gentle gush of wind blew through, and you slowly felt at peace again.

Then, footsteps. You whipped your head around to look and saw your leader slowly making his way towards the gazebo, a soft smile on his face.

“You couldn’t sleep either?” Klaus asked, taking a seat across from you. You shook your head.

“Nightmares again,” you mumbled, rubbing your knees. “They just seem to follow me everywhere.”

He sighed, before slowly shifting and making his way to sit beside you. “You’re my favorite from the family, you know.”

You turned to look at him, your eyebrows shooting up. “Oh? Why is that?”

He smiled at you again, before taking your hand. “You’re amazing, clever, loyal, and I… I sense you will do great things in the future.”

You couldn’t help but scoff and let out a little laugh. “Are you sure it’s me you’re talking about?”

He wasn’t laughing, rather his smile disappeared. “Don’t you dare think anything less of yourself than you are.”

You squeezed his hand gently, before shaking your head as tears began forming in your eyes. “I’ve been ridiculed and belittled all my life. I’ve been broken and torn apart for so long, how could I possibly mend myself together to go out there and do something good, something that matters?”

He was silent, and you pulled your hand off his hand to wipe your eyes before you closed them and took in a shaky breath, squeezing the bench.

Klaus looked at you for a moment. Ben had left his side now, understanding the delicate situation that required you two to be alone. A moment ago, he had been teasing Klaus for being so lovey-dovey the moment he sat beside you, and Klaus had tried to remind himself not to swat him, or rather the air through him. But now, there were actually just the two of you, sitting there in silence. Klaus waited for you to speak again for a moment, but then he just couldn’t wait anymore and cupped your cheek, guiding you gently to look at him. 

“You’re broken, that’s true. But,” he whispered and wiped a tear away from your cheek, “you can heal, even if it doesn’t feel like that now. And one day, you will thrive again. Our whole family believes in you here.”

And I believe in you the most, because I have grown to feel deeper for you, to love you, he thought, but left it unsaid. If you wouldn’t return his feelings, him just slapping his feelings at you could, and likely would, ruin the moment. And he wanted nothing more than to bask in hope, establish a stronger bond, and wait that maybe one day you’d return his feelings or at least gave enough signs that he would be confident enough to take the jump.

He felt so much, for the first time in years he could feel happiness and euphoria without drugs. Feeling like his “children” were fond of him, but honestly he’d give it all away for you. If his family ever disbanded, he would be happy they went to spread the word of peace to others, but he just hoped you would stay with him. This timeline, being in the middle of the Cold War, being afraid of Russians… it was different. Different atmosphere, even when he knew nothing would happen. Him being able to “predict” some things had gathered the first batch of the family, which had then slowly grown. He would have never believed that one of the people joining his family would be someone like you.

And now, looking into your eyes, his eyes wandered around your face. Your lips.

He took in a breath and retreated from you, before doing anything drastic. “We should go back to sleep.”

He stood up, but you grabbed his hand before he could start walking. “Klaus?”

He turned, meeting your eyes again. Your lips widened into a careful smile as you stood up too and you bit your lip. “Thank you.”

He nodded, offering you a smile as well, and you walked back to the mansion together, and Klaus went to sleep grinning like a schoolboy, knowing Ben was following him with a smirk. And when he took off his slippers and the bathrobe, Ben’s voice chuckled from the darkness. “Well, well. Looks like it went better than you thought.”

Klaus sighed dreamily, sitting up against the headboard of his bed and looked at Ben. “They’re wonderful, the angel in the darkness, the flower in the middle of a burned field…”

Ben laughed, cutting Klaus off. “Yeah, I figured. Your face when you look at them, I wish I could use a camera. Or that we even had a camera, I’d—”

Klaus interrupted him, clearly not even listening. “They’re wonderful, Ben. Simply wonderful. I wish I could marry them on the spot.”

Ben chuckled again. “Well, this is a cult—”

Klaus immediately scowled. “This is not a cult, how many times—”

“This is most definitely a cult.”

Klaus sighed and dramatically slid to lie down, turning his back on Ben and pulling the blanket over him like a child. Ben huffed and shook his head, taking a seat on the armchair by the window and waiting until the morning. He couldn’t wait to see how desperately in love Klaus would grow out to be as his interactions with you would continue.

---

Requests are open! FANDOM LIST | PROMPT LIST(S) | RULES (READ!!!)

[alexanderwales]

My Very Brief Time as a Korean Rice Farmer

When my wife had been working at her company for ten years, her boss offered her a two week trip anywhere in the world she wanted to go. It was a small company, maybe thirty people, and she'd been one of the first employees, when they were even smaller.

We had wanted to go to Japan, but this was 2022, and they were still closed for COVID when we were making the plans. We decided on South Korea instead, which was my personal preference over Japan anyway (kimchi and k-dramas and the Joseon era!). I used Duolingo to learn Hangul (the script) and not all that much actual Korean.

We went to Changdeok Palace early in the morning on our second day in Seoul, getting there just before it opened. It's a huge place that's right in the city, surrounded, as most things in Seoul are, by other buildings. The Palace is actually a number of buildings built by a number of kings from the Joseon era.

Right when we came in, we were quickly approached by a guy in a blue hanbok. "Hanbok" is a word that means "traditional clothing" or something like that, so it's not actually descriptive, but it was powder blue and looked fancy. He had glasses and a slightly uneasy smile on his face, and approached us from far enough away that I had time to wonder if he was approaching us, and if he was, what he wanted.

"Excuse me, how long were you going to be here today?" he asked.

"We don't have plans," my wife said. "We were going to be here all day, long enough to see everything."

"Would you like to participate in a festival?" he asked.

We looked at each other and told him sure, and then followed him as he talked. (We passed a group of thirty children who had just been admitted with their teacher, and they seemed excited to see foreigners, so they kept yelling "Hello!" to us, which was probably the only English they knew. We waved and said "annyeonghaseyo!" back to them.)

What I thought was going on at this point was that we were getting upsold on something. I figured that we were going to see something special and extra, and then get charged for it. Whatever, we were on vacation, I was fine with that. We hadn't been in Korean long, and I thought "maybe they just station guys like this by the gate to rope people in". It was weird, but we were in a place where we didn't understand all the customs or speak the language, and my policy had been "just roll with it".

I did think it was weird that we were hoofing it across the palaces, and thought it was more weird when we went past a gate and into a place where no one else was apparently allowed. Our guide spoke good English, but when he'd been talking it had always been "the festival" or "the event" and "you'll be there most of the day" and "we'll make sure you have what you need". We were not clear on what was going on.

He mentioned that there would be a rice harvest, which I thought was weird since we were in a historical park in the middle of Seoul.

He told us that he'd give us a tour, because there wouldn't be time later, so he guided us through the Joseon-era gardens and temples. There was no one around, because that part of the grounds wasn't open until later in the day, so we got to see everything and ask whatever questions we wanted to ask, which has got to be the best possible way to experience a place. I was mostly struck by how much work it must have taken to make all this stuff and had lots of "down with the monarchy" feelings. There's a huge pond that's in the shape of the Korean peninsula, and god damn must that have taken a ton of time without a backhoe.

We were eventually taken a small place where they were setting things up, with a bunch of people milling about, and it was only then that we saw the rice: a small plot of it, no more than twenty feet to a side.

The rice was, in historical times, planted there so the king would have some understanding of what the crop yields would be like, since rice was the lifeblood of the country. It was harvested and inspected and whatnot to get some sense of the agriculture of the country, because anything that happened to the rice in these conditions was probably happening to rice all over the kingdom.

This rice harvest wasn't something that they just do with tourists every now and then, it only happens on this single day in the entire year, and me and my wife were two of the five people who would be doing it. The other three were all Korean government people of some kind.

They took us to a building and got us changed in our hanbok. "Hanbok" means "traditional clothes", and usually is associated with a nice and historical outfit, like someone in England dressing up in Regency era clothing. Here, it just meant "traditional farmer clothes".

Problem: I am six feet tall, which is quite tall for a Korean.

This woman was trying to dress me, and both because I was a bit overweight and quite tall, it was just not going well. My wife thought it was hilarious.

The other part of the kit was some orange rubber boots, which were not traditional but did prevent us from getting covered in mud. This is the most that I have ever looked like a goose.

When they were ready for us, we were handed tools to cut the rice. The ideal motion was to grab it around the base, move the hand up, then cut at the bottom. I am pretty sure that the thing we were handed was a sickle.

We got warned five or six times that they were extremely sharp, meant for slicing through the stalks of grain, and because there was a bit of a language barrier, the guy handing them to us kept nodding as he tried to make sure we understood that there was no small amount of danger.

My wife, five seconds after being handed her sickle, lunged at me with a "Hiya!" like she meant to stab me in the stomach. I jumped, five or six Koreans around us jumped, and my wife laughed and laughed. (My wife is great.)

When the photographers got there, we went into the muck and began harvesting. There were what felt like fifty photographers taking pictures of us while very loud drums played a traditional song and some people danced around us. We preened in front of the cameras, trying to take direction as best we could, and tossing the harvested rice off to the side so that two men with giant hammers could pound on it and make it into something like mochi (I think called tteok, but there was a lot of Korean happening).

After the photographers had gone, we had a little break, then were made to harvest rice in front of a group of Korean people, most of whom were, I think, either government functionaries or personalities or something. The drums were going again, I was sweating in my hanbok, and left hoping that my glasses wouldn't fall into the mud.

A third rice harvest was done for tourists, and the drums started up. I think this was the weirdest one for me, because I was a tourist on display for other tourists.

After the last of the rice was harvested, we had an interview with the largest English-speaking TV station in South Korea. All the questions were casual chit-chat questions, and I figured that only five or ten seconds would make it on air for a puff piece (which is what happened, with my wife hogging all the screen time).

When we had finally changed back into our normal clothes, we were given gifts by way of thanks, two wooden cups that we now use in the bathroom to hold toothbrushes, along with a pound of rice each (though not the stuff we'd harvested, which was made into tteok and we did get a chance to eat).

Our guide was super nice to us, answered some questions about what it's like to live in South Korea, and talked to us about places for us to visit. Over the next few days, we were able to find a few puff pieces on the internet, all in Korean.

I'm pretty sure they do this every year, always with token foreigners, and I hope some day I'm telling this story to someone and they say "oh yeah, that happened to me too".

[foreverisntenough]

‘OURS’

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

INDEX

Warnings: This series is 18+ and will contain fluff, suggestion, SMUT (unprotected sex,) pregnancy, parenting, mental health struggles, eating disorder, self doubt, body image issues, daddy kink, angst, alcohol consumption - not sure what else really… if i miss anything please lmk!

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

Chapter 24- An Alexander-Arnold Angel | ‘Ours’

word count - 11 k

“Can you tell me what that is, baby?” You cooed, bouncing Teddy on your knee pointing outside through the big window. You were sat in a lounge at the airport waiting to board your flight to the United States for your wedding. Trent had gotten a private jet to take you to New York. He figured if you had ever taken an important trip it would be this one so flying private seemed like the thing to do. 

“Aib pla!” Teddy yelled the jumbled words. You giggled and shushed her loud outburst. You pulled her by her pudgy tummy back into you more. You leaned around her and kissed her chubby cheek. 

“Yeah, Ted. That’s an airplane. You’re so smart. Do you like going on planes, baby bear?” Trent asked Teddy, sharing the same laugh you did hearing her excitedly squeal in a fairly quiet room. She shrugged, not sure if she did or maybe she didn’t understand his question. To her credit the last time she flew, she probably didn’t even remember the experience all that well. You wondered how good her memory was and if she would remember going to New York at all. 

“I think you do. You’re such a good flyer, baby. Do you know where we’re going?”  You picked up her hands and tried to wipe them clean from the yogurt she had been eating. It seemed to have gotten just about everywhere but in her mouth. 

“Pop pops.” She murmured out to you now deciding that after her snack and all the questions she was tired and needed a cuddle. She was referring to your dad. That’s what you had landed on calling him. You wiped her hands and pulled her into your arms situating her on your chest. 

“Yeah, we’re going to see pop pop, mum mum, Laur, and Win Win too. Aren’t you so excited?” You asked her. Trent was listening to your conversation and ran his hand over her hair before kissing her head. 

“Ted, do you know what else we’re going to do?” Trent asked Teddy cupping her cheek and turning her head a little for her to look at him.

“Nos dada.” She sleepily cooed trying to wrangle away and get her face back to its place tucked into the nape of your neck. 

“Me and mummy are going to get married. Give mummy a big kiss like this…Mwah!” Trent messed about pulling your face into his, kissing your lips dramatically with the ‘mwah’ sound Teddy still loved. She giggled with a ‘dada’ grabbing for him and pushing her lips out for a kiss of her own from him. “Going to have a big party as well. You can wear your pretty dress like mummy too. Will you dance with daddy?” He asked her with a smiley pout seeing how tired she was. He was hoping that he could make her happy by asking her a silly question and bringing up the dress she had been really excited to wear. 

“Is dada even going to dance?” Your brow furrowed with a smirk mocking Trent’s usual indifference for dancing. He rolled his eyes at your smart remark. You giggled a little. Trent didn’t like to dance. He’d do it for you though. He’d hold you tight to him and whisper in your ear. Frankly, you liked the way he did dance. It was always a heated moment and typically turned fairly intimate following. Opposing that, you thought him dancing with Teddy would be the cutest thing in the world so you didn’t mean to tease too much. 

“Yeah, well I want to dance with my Ted. Maybe I don’t want to dance with you.” He quipped with a bit of bite and a devilish smirk. Teddy giggled, bringing herself more upright to grab his face with her tiny hands again.

“Aww that makes me sad. Please daddy.” You whined while you dramatically pouted at him. You had a short first dance planned but it was more of an intimate thing for the wedding day. The idea of your two favorite people sharing a dance as well was precious. He rolled his eyes and kissed you before returning his attention to your daughter. 

You still had a bit of time before you boarded so you plopped Teddy on the ground with a piece of paper and some crayons to color. You leaned back and got comfortable. Trent moved over to the seat directly next to you on a couch. The cushion sank as he shifted closer. He moved his hand and placed his fingers under your chin to turn you to face him. He kissed your lips but was quick to pull away to lean down to Teddy to ask her what she was coloring. You frowned at him though wishing he gave you a longer kiss. He flicked his eyes back up to you and flashed you a smug grin with a wink. 

“Baby bear, what are you drawing?” He asked Teddy, as she furiously scribbled with a blue crayon. Just a bunch of swirls and circley shapes.

“Doggies!” She told him very seriously focused on her paper. She stuck her tongue out into the corner of her mouth like Trent did when he concentrated. Trent hummed inspecting her work with a little laugh. A little while and a couple scribbles of dogs later, you needed to board. 

“Good girl! Look how nicely you did! Can you pack up your  crayons for me, Teddy girl?” You cooed getting your own things packed up. She very carefully put each crayon back in its original place. Trent stood above her patiently letting her do it as she liked.  A very clear sign that she was maybe inheriting some of your predisposed organization. Trent gave you a smug grin and cheeky laugh seeing your daughter’s resemblance to you shine through. 

“Can I give you a kiss, beautiful?” Trent asked, holding your hand on the tarmac before you boarded the plane. You giggled and squeezed his hand. 

“You don’t have to ask.” You turned towards him, moving your lips towards his.  He laughed and his smile almost made you stutter. It made even the gray cold summer weather in the summer in England feel like it was bright sun. 

“I gotta ask, don’t I? Consent is what good guys do, no? I want you to marry me in a couple days. I’m trying to not mess up.” He cooed with a smirk. You shook your head. 

“Can you just kiss me? Now I’ve been waiting too long.” You complained. He gave you a devastating grin. He pressed his lips to yours and you shut your eyes in bliss. You boarded the flight and settled in a seat with Teddy while Trent brought your carry ons aboard. You scrolled through your phone calendar before the plane took off. You flicked through your packed schedule for the next few days and then just jumped ahead for a little to check the exact date of when you needed to schedule your next nail appointment for ahead of your flight for your honeymoon and then the exact date that Trent was scheduled to leave for preseason. It was a little crazy that he’d be leaving for preseason as your husband, he’d be leaving you as his wife, it was just a little unfortunate that date was as soon as it was. 

“You know I heard there is going to be a very good looking boy at Liverpool’s preseason this year.” You cooed cheekily, picking up your gaze from your phone and to Trent finally taking his seat. 

“Oh yeah?” Trent sent a smirk your way and your heart faltered but you were trying to flirt a little. 

“I think his name is Trent Alexander-Arnold.” You giggled with a little smile as your lips turned at the corners looking back at him. “Heard he’s sexy, cute too.” 

“That’s me, baby.” He laughed with a wink. “Sorry to disappoint though but I’m engaged, getting married in a few days as well.” You pouted at him and whispered a curse. “I’m all hers, most beautiful fiance.” He reflected your pout back to you. You giggled at how childish this whole conversation was. “Now can my beautiful fiance let me give her a kiss now?” He laughed with you. He took your cheek in his palm. You nodded to him, fixing your gaze on his eyes.  He kissed you and it was perfection. You felt the world slow. Everytime his lips were on yours as dramatic as it sounds the world just melted away. He felt like heaven each and every time. 

“Do you know where we are? We’re where mummy used to live.” You cooed to a sleepy Teddy in the car from the airport to your apartment in Manhattan. She was fairly confused by your question. “When I was a little girl like you, Teddy bear. I didn’t even know daddy yet.” You giggled smushing a kiss to her cheek. 

“No dada?” She asked you with her big eyes narrowing at you. You told her no. You were referring to your childhood but she didn’t seem too interested if her dad wasn’t involved. “Why mama? Lub dada.” She gave you a disgruntled disapproving face. She didn’t like the idea of you without Trent.

“I know. I love daddy as well. I just hadn’t met him yet. Not until I was a big girl.” You cooed looking at her progressively more unhappy face in her car seat. 

“Dada best. Why mama?” She looked so angry at you. You couldn’t believe how similar her angry scowl looked like Trent’s. You were trying to bite back the smile. 

“I think he’s the best too. That’s why we had you, cute girl. Why are you mad at me right now?” You laughed, a little taken aback that she was so annoyed.  

“Ted, why are you mad at mummy?” Trent asked, trying not to laugh as well. He was smiling though. He brushed his thumb over her pout in an effort to wipe it off. It didn’t work. She stayed steadfast. 

“My dada best!” She yelped moving towards Trent in her seat away from your direction. Your eyes widened that she was taking this so personally. 

“Teddy, I couldn’t have known dada. We lived in different countries. What do you want me to do? I’ve known him longer than you have!” You teased squeezing her arm. She scowled at you, incredibly offended by your remark. 

“No! Know dada long.” She rebutted very quickly with some real vigor. 

“Yeah but not as long as mummy has.” You cooed initially with some humor in your tone. Tears began to well though in her puppy dog eyes.  “Okay, okay. Come here. You’re right, baby. You’ve known daddy the longest, yeah? You and I love him the most. Daddy’s the best.” You pouted at Teddy  helping her out of her car seat into your lap. 

“Daddy is the best and mummy should’ve met him earlier.” Trent quipped. Teddy let out a snarky ‘yeah.’ Trent laughed giving her a gentle kiss on her identical pout. He wiped a few of her tears that had fallen. 

“Okay… that’s not helpful. Thank you, T.” You gave him a glare. Him fueling her anger at you for the impossible, not meeting her soon wasn’t helping. When you finally arrived at your New York apartment, Teddy was fast asleep, her annoyance at you evaporated. Trent and you tried your best to be quiet and get her inside without waking her.

You had a few days before the first event to make sure everything was good to go and get a few beauty appointments sorted. One thing you really needed to get sorted was your raging desire to have sex again. You and Trent had foolishly decided you wouldn’t fuck until your wedding day once you arrived in New York. Something you were seriously regretting the past few days. You didn’t really pay much attention to just how often you had been having sex with him but not doing it… it had become very apparent just how frequently you did. It was the night before the welcome day, the day before your wedding, and you had reached a breaking point of horniness with Trent in bed. 

“I don’t want to sleep apart tomorrow.” You whined cuddling up to him under the covers.  

“How come baby?” Trent asked you quietly, pulling you into him more with a kiss to your temple.  

“Because I want your hands on me.” You muffled out digging your face into his neck. You pouted your lip pushing it against his warm skin. “T, pleassseee, just touch me.” You complained as you  moved his hands for him from your sides to cheekily beneath your tiny pajama shorts.  

“I’m not going to loose this.” He whispered teasingly, ghosting your lips with his. He moved closer to you his cold minty breath hitting you with a dervish handsome smile smirking back at you. 

“I miss you baby.” You whined again hoping you could convince him if you made him feel bad enough for keeping himself from you for the past few days.  

“I’ve missed you too. I’ve been thinking about you a lot but I don’t loose I’m sorry, pretty girl.” Trent cooed. This wasn’t even a game you decided this together but you knew Trent well enough that he wasn’t going to break the pact you made and he wasn’t going to let you otherwise you would have ‘failed’ or ‘lost’ and that’s just something he didn’t want to do.

“I don’t care, I’ll loose T…” you moaned but Trent just shook his head at you.  He wasn’t going to loose by you giving up. “What have you been thinking about?” You asked in an attempt to shift his mindset to all the things you’ve currently been thinking about and certainly missing. 

“Mmmm.” He hummed reminiscing. “Baby, just been thinking about tasting you, kissing your neck, eating you out, sliding inside you,  and I know you’ll say otherwise but playing with your ass.” He cheekily whispered in your ear. A shiver ran up your spine.  

“Please.” You whined in response shutting your eyes desperately wanting him to do anything with you right now. Yes, even that. Anything. “Come here, gimme a cuddle, baby. Alexander-Arnold’s don’t lose.” He cooed,kissing on your neck. 

“T.” You pouted “I hate this.” You continued to complain. Being an Alexander-Arnold didn’t sound like much fun at this very minute. You just wanted him to concede and fuck you. 

“I know you do, pretty girl. You just want me to play with that pretty pussy.” He kept his voice hush, dragging his fingers under the waistband of your shorts, gliding over your smooth skin. Close but still incredibly far from where you wanted them. 

“T, stopppp! Just get away from me then.” You huffed genuinely upset at your frantic state. You gave him a pouty face and tried to move away from him in the bed. 

“Nah, c’mere. Just  stay with me, you’ll be okay, baby.” He cooed gently pulling you into him somehow in a non sexual way but in a very loving comforting manner. He kissed the top of your head. “Soon. Promise. Trust me, you won’t have to even ask.” He whispered. You nuzzled into him, pressing your pouty lips to his neck. 

You had gotten ready in your apartment and gone for a lunch earlier in the day with all your family and friends to welcome them to Manhattan. It was the day before your wedding which seemed surreal that was the case. Your mum took Teddy for you and Trent after lunch. The two of you giggled drunk off champagne stumbling back into the hotel room you two had shared the first time you ever met. In a way you felt like it was your room. You knew it so well. You clung to Trent as he fumbled the key to open the door. You had bags dropped off for you both at the hotel earlier. What was driving you crazy was the you two wouldn’t spend the night together ahead of the wedding. Needless to say you were glued to each other. It was rare spending nights apart when you didn’t have to. Trent traveled so much that spending additional nights apart was awful and avoided at all costs. 

“T… are you still hungry?” You giggled probably more buzzed than you realized from lunch. Calling it a lunch was a little bit of a stretch though, you hadn’t gotten to eat all the much though because you were talking so much. 

“Hungry, thirsty, and very in love with you, baby.”  He cooed. He came up behind you and wrapped his arms over your chest across you. You craned your neck to the side and kissed his covered shoulder. 

“Room service it is then because I need to get ready soon but I’m not leaving your side.” You kissed him again and reached your arms behind your holding his body to his. 

“Usual?” He asked and you smiled, liking the fact that you had a usual and the fact that he knew it. You hummed. He ordered you two cheeseburgers, fries, and champagne. It was a dream. You sat on top of the bed you’d sadly sleep in alone tonight with your head resting on his shoulder eating and drinking, kissing and talking. Eventually you got off the bed to get dressed. Your mum had organized a dinner tonight at The Plaza. You gave tonight to your her to host. It was probably more formal than your actual wedding the following day but you’d give it to her, more her vibe then yours. It was her dream for you, to throw this sort of ornate event. That said, fancy or casual, you were about to turn put a look your mum would kill you for. You and Winnie had found a dress Moda Operandi had carried by Nensi Dojaka that was entirely see through and it was gorgeous. It was ‘white sequined’ as you described it to your mum which wasn’t a lie, you just had chosen to send her the off model photo of the dress keeping the transparency element a secret until she saw you tonight. You slipped into a sheer sequined gown in the ensuite. You pulled it on and even though you could do it yourself you slinked back into the room while Trent buttoned his shirt. 

“Do you mind zipping this for me?” You cheekily asked him excited to see his reaction to your very cheeky dress. 

“Oh my fucking … oh my god. Are you serious right now? Baby… holy fuck. Come here.” His jaw stayed stack as he took your hand and held it above your head for you to spin around for him. When your back was to him mid twirl he groaned seeing your ass through the material in just a Miu Miu pair of underwear maybe shorts you weren’t sure what you’d call them but they were intended to be seen. 

“Do you like?” You giggled turning back around to him draping your arms over his shoulders. His eyes scanned you and Trent shook his head in disbelief. You let go and thanked him for zipping your dress and skipped back to the bathroom to put the finishing touches on your makeup. 

“Erm… where do you think you’re going wearing that? Jesus, baby, you’re not leaving my side tonight.” He cooed following you into the room. His hands were quick to find their way to your covered ass. “I hate being the one that just zipped this thing up. I really should be taking this off you. Honestly, that’s all I’m going to be thinking about tonight. You rolled your eyes with a blushing smile looking back at him through the mirror. “I know you’ve probably had your outfit picked out for ages so don’t feel inclined to switch anything up for me but I did get you a little something…” He spoke quietly in your ear resting his chin on your shoulder. 

“A little something like what, T?” You giggled fairly sure it would be something from Bergdorf Goodman. He snuck away from you and grabbed the all too familiar purple bag. You smiled a little bigger coming to see him with it. 

“I know you wanted this for a little and couldn’t find it but I’ll find anything for you, baby. I’ll do anything to make you happy, I’ll get you anything you want.” He cooed, handing you the bag. You took it from his hesitantly, not totally sure what it would be. You unboxed a Louis Vuitton bag you’d been hunting for for ages. It was a trunk style clutch in all white. 

“T… thank you, baby. I’ll wear it tonight no question. I love it and I love you more.” You cooed placing the bag on the bed carefully before giving him a sweet kiss. As you gathered your stuff to head down to the party you looked at Trent inspecting himself in the mirror. “T… why did you talk to me on the corner, you know when we met?” You cooed curious for an answer, sort of shocked you’d never asked him outright before. 

“What?” He looked at you through the full length mirror but turned around to look at you properly. “I mean, baby, looks aside.” He gestured to your figure currently as you clasped your heels on. “I liked how nervous you were about your confidence.” He smiled at you.  

“You liked that I was insecure?” You asked him in response with a furrowed brow. It seemed like an odd answer. It definitely wasn’t the one you probably were expecting. 

“No, no.” He let out a breathy laugh. “I hated it, actually because it made no sense. I needed you to know how beautiful you were, you are, how smart you are. It was like you betrayed yourself by talking to me. You should be that confident but every time you said something you looked like you were shocked it came out of your mouth.” He kept his sweet smile as he walked towards you. He cupped your cheek and ran his thumb along your jawline. “I wanted to just make sure you knew how beautiful you are, inside, outside, and even if you didn’t want to date me, see me again, which I wasn’t keen on, you deserved to know that. You had me hooked from the jump, baby.” He cooed. 

“I know you think I am.” You replied with a pouty smile thinking his reasoning was really tender.  

“We’re getting there right? How beautiful, you think you are?” He cooed gently knowing this conversation was entering dicey territory. Your opinion of yourself, your own beauty was something you were working on. You nodded shyly. ”Good baby.” he winked at you and kissed your lips. You felt butterflies fill your stomach. It hadn’t really sunk in yet that this man who took such good care of you, who really truly and deeply cared about your well being above everything else was going to be yours for the rest of your life.

You went to the party and were met with an eye roll from your mum, a squeal of excitement from Lauren, kisses from Teddy, and a few jokes from Marcel. It was a very fun night. It was the perfect way to kick things off. Your anxiety though was growing as the hours of the night ticked by and faded into the morning ones of your big day. You had a tearful goodnight and goodbye to Trent holding your baby girl. You were trying not to cry but both of you crying in front of Trent probably wouldn’t have been a nice thing for him to deal with, not tonight. You managed and made your way back to the hotel room upstairs you two had shared for years. Instead of her crib you had Teddy cozied up to you cuddling in the big bed just wanted the comfort of her. 

“Mama, need dada.” Teddy cooed sleepily nuzzling her face into your cleavage not being able to fall asleep without him. You had said goodnight but not in the usual fashion. Typically Trent would call if he was away. That always made her more calm and settled.  

“Why baby?  Mummy’s got you.” You told her quietly trying to reassure her everything was okay.

“Lub mama.” Teddy humphed out but continued squirming against you unhappily.   

“Yeah, I know.” You cooed gently. “Why do you need daddy right now though?” You asked her brushing your hand over her head dragging her curls back. 

“Dada tect mama and teddy.” She whimpered out. You pouted at her. It was so cute. 

“Yeah, he does, he takes good care of us, right?”  You looked at her adorably similar face to his, his eyes essentially reflecting back at you. It was a comfort you didn’t know you needed. 

“Yeah huh, mama need.” She babbled back, cuddling into you more wrapping her arms around your neck. 

“Okay, baby.” You hummed kissing the top of her head. You didn’t want to call and break the rules you had agreed upon. You had said goodnight and that was supposed to be it before you saw each other for the actual ceremony but you weren’t going to deprive Teddy of him. “We’ll text daddy. Okay? Send him a picture of us. Can you say cheese for me?” You smiled at her reaching for your phone. You took a selfie of you two tucked in bed and sent it to Trent with a message.   

‘Little teddy bear misses her daddy. Says he protects her and mama. Can we have our bedtime kiss please.’

Trent was quick to respond, thankfully as you were both definitely getting tired and you, very very nervous. He sent it along with a voice note with a ‘mwah!’ And a photo of him and Teddy’s stuffed bear in bed. 

‘Love my baby bear and mummy so much. My beautiful girls. Sending you the biggest hugs and kisses. Get a good sleep for me.’  

“Dada where?” Teddy cooed as you left the party tonight. She was very confused why you had to say bye and split up.   “I’m gonna go have a sleepover with Celly and Ty. You, mama, and Win are gonna have one, okay?” He told her with a soft smile not trying to get into the logistics of pre wedding ceremony archaic traditions you weren’t sure you even knew why you were doing.  “Why?” Teddy looked back at Trent devastated. Her big eyes filling quickly with tears. You told it was okay coddling her. “Take dada. No ‘lone.” She cooed with a terribly cute pout trying to hand Trent her stuffed bear.  “Aw thank you, baby. Okay, so I’llI get your beary and you get mama, that’s a fair trade off.” Trent cooed taking the floppy stuffed bear. He kissed Teddy’s forehead with a ‘thank you.’

“Look who’s already asleep with dada, Ted.” You cooed while showing her the phone after you read her the message.. Trent had tucked her little bear in the bed with him and folded the comforter over resting its head on the pillow beside him.   

“Mama sleep?” Teddy asked quietly and tiredly seeing your eyes still open staring out the window looking out into the warm glow of the Manhattan night.  

“Sorry, baby. I’m okay. Just thinking.” You smiled at her and gave her a kiss. Her brow furrowed, confused. Not sure what you meant so you figured if you were both awake you might as well explain. Truthfully, emotions were trashing around in your body. “You know how when you're sad, dada makes it all better. Makes you happy?” You asked her setting up her reasoning and understanding. She nodded “Well dada does that for me too. Dada makes mummy not sad anymore.” Saying it out loud made you so sentimental. You started crying trying to fight back the lump forming in your throat. Trent would wipe Teddy’s tears if she was scared of a thunderstorm or if she scraped her knee but what he’d done for you was on another scale. He really pulled you out of a really bad place. It definitely was still lingering but the light he had brought into your life was like nothing you could’ve imagined. 

“Mama, no sad. Need dada?” Teddy asked you worried you were crying.  She tried to wipe tears and it made your heart break. So much had happened it was so amazing you’d finally all be connected under one surname. You’d be husband and wife with your little girl. It seemed mundane but it made such a difference to you. It was such a massive deal to you. 

“I’ve got you, Teddy bear. You make mama so happy, yeah?” You cooed with a sad smile kissing her sleepy pout. You pulled her tight to you and breathed her in. Your heart stilled in appreciation for what you and Trent had created. Trent and Teddy were your entire life. They meant everything to you. They really did make you happy and you couldn’t ask for anything more. 

“Come with me Mrs. Alexander Arnold!! We’ve got shit to do!” Winnie quietly squealed waking you up. Your mum in the other room shook her head at Winnie’s mouth.

“Can you cuddle with Win Win?” You cooed stroking your hand over a very sleepy Teddy’s head. She cuddled closer to you but you had to peel her off. You had to wake up extra early to begin the lengthy process of getting ready for arguably the biggest day of your life. You had a lymphatic drainage appointment first, followed by your nails, then your hair, and makeup, 

“C’mere, Teddy girl, you and I are gonna go snooze a little longer, yeah?” Winnie’s cooed plopping herself on the bed and pulling Teddy over to her.

“Are you gonna look pretty like mama today?” One hairstylist asked Teddy as she did her hair. She giggled a yeah as she watched her carefully part her curls. Yourself, Winnie, Lauren, Teddy and your mum all were getting ready at The Plaza and taking a helicopter out to the location of your ceremony out east. 

“I have a delivery!” Lauren cooed running into the room with a gift bag and a big thing of flowers. 

“I wonder who it’s from!” Winnie teased sarcastically as if it could be from anyone else but Trent. You giggled, pausing getting your hair for a moment to see what he had sent along. You scooped Teddy off the ground and sat her on your lap. 

“Is it from dada? Let's see what he sent to me and you, Teddy girl.” You cooed with a big smile pressing your cheek to hers. You unwrapped two jewelry boxes with dainty gold bracelets, one for each of you, Teddy’s much smaller for her wrist, with two small diamond A letters on it. You pouted as your hairstylist helped you clasp the fine bracelet. “And what will we say to daddy?” You asked Teddy inspecting her tiny wrist new adorn with a matching bracelet. Your eyes started to fill with tears. The morning was starting to get to you. 

“Tanks dada, lub most.” Teddy looked at you with her big brown eyes and a pout seeing you look so emotional. She tilted her head confused. Your mum came over and wiped under your eye with her thumb. 

“No tears after makeup is finished.” Your mum spoke softly. You knew it was coming from a good place but of course it had to be about keeping your appearance up. “Isn’t that right, beautiful girl?” She cooed once more, shifting her focus to Teddy. 

You stood on a slight pedestal in the middle of a grand room high up in the plaza as two stylist helped zip your wedding dress up. 

“Y/N… it's perfect.” Winnie crocked out starting to cry. Her bottom lip quivered as she tried to reel back in her tears. Teddy sat on her lap in a little dress. You weren’t doing the traditional bridesmaids thing but both her and Lauren were in light pink looks. Winnie in an Alaia gown, Lauren in lace Alessandra Rich dress. You wanted it to be relaxed for everyone. High end and chic but casual materials for comfort. Not to mention it would create a moment for your dress to stand out that much more. Your dress was everything you wanted and more. You had originally found a dress in London but things changed quickly when you got word of the Oscar de La Renta column gown of your dreams was available. It was strapless not overtly white but had pearl embellishments in a scalloped pattern overlaying a sheer-ish silk fabric. It was classic but cheeky and you felt like it embodied you.  When you felt the stylist zip it up you felt an odd sense of relief wash over you and your anxiety leave you, feeling more confident in your appearance than ever in this dress.

“What do you think?” You spun around with a childish grin with your arms raised for all the girls in the room to see it, you all done up for your wedding day. You had kind of run with the whole beach wedding theme choosing the scalloped pattern and pearl gown so you opted for a pair of drop pearl earrings with a hint of gold and Jimmy Choo satin sandal heels.

“Mama pwincess!” Teddy squeal shuffling off Winnie’s lap and running to you. You leaned down to her and kissed her forehead. 

“Yeah? You think? What do you think dada will say?” You giggled really appreciating her compliment. That’s all you really wanted was for your daughter to think of you that way. 

“Dada say booful, mama!” She cooed happily swaying back and forth in front of you, anchoring herself to you by grabbing the dress. You thought your stylists were about to have an aneurysm watching her pull on the beading but you didn’t care. You had a photographer with you all day capturing your morning which was surreal so after an hour or so of pictures you made your way to the west side to get the helicopter out to Montauk. Nerves beginning to rise once again. Lauren of course organizing champagne to be on board. Another thing organized was a little girl she had sent to Trent from you for that morning. She had somehow convinced you to do a photoshoot in the lingerie you had purchased to wear on your wedding night with him. She had gotten a bunch of them printed out and placed in glassine envelopes to sneak into his day. One in the interior pocket of his jacket. Another to find tucked under the dinner plate he’d eventually sit at, and a bunch of other sneaky places she could think of. Your favorite were probably the ones where you weren’t even in the lingerie. They were spicy, still sweet but definitely sexy and just for your husband… and Lauren because she helped you narrow down your selections. (vibes 1, 2)

‘We begin our story in New York’ was the sign at the entrance to the ceremony. You squeezed Winnie’s hand trying to not cry. Your dad met you outside Gurney's resort where all the guests had already arrived. Your mum, Winnie, and Lauren took Teddy and made their way to their seats. It was small and intimate but everyone important in your lives were there. Trent waiting anxiously for your arrival. His palms began to get clammy once he saw Teddy get plopped down in his mum's lap knowing very well that meant you were close to come walking down the aisle to him, into your marriage, into the next phase of your life.

Falling for Trent had been unexpected. You felt like your life had been a labyrinth before you ran into him on 78th Street. It was endless turns and dead ends until you found him. This unbelievably handsome, talented, intelligent, loving, man who treated you the way you deserved to be treated. He treated you like an absolute angel. When you saw him outside your apartment building for your first date you could feel your heart calm, when he held you months later a in the tunnel at Anfield, when he told you he loved you, when you moved in together, when you got pregnant, during all of these unbelievably exciting things you got to enjoy then each with the calmest of hearts, so sure he would always take care of you. He made you feel so special, so important. Out of all the amazing, incredibly important people Trent knew from around the world, he always made sure that you knew you mattered too. That you were supposed to be anywhere so purposefully. He’d squeeze your hand and your body would calm once again.

“It will be the best day of your life. Have faith.” Your dad cooed in your ear like he always did, telling you to trust and 'have faith.' Your dad stood with you before the aisle. You could feel yourself shaking. He wrapped his arm around you still holding your hand with the other. “I love you, Y/N. I’m so proud of you. I’m so honored I get to be a part of your day with Trent. Unbelievably happy that you found someone that returns all the love and joy you bring into everyone else’s lives.” He spoke softly and you began to tear. He wiped under your eyes and kissed your temple. You had a floaty feeling lingering all day but one of true comfort engulfed you with his reassurance. You stepped out into the aisle and shut your eyes gently for a moment taking a deep breath. Trent looked at you with a confident gaze at first. There was a tinge of nerves behind his eyes but his perfect pout fell into a soft comforting smile. He licked his lips in the way that he always did. You remember being awestruck by the way he looked in person the first time you met him, the way his skin gleamed in the golden sunlight the same way it did right now.  It wasn’t surprising but it was more so just amazing how his looks had such an intoxicating effect on you, your wedding day was no exception.

'You needed more of him. He was intoxicating, he felt like you took a shot of liquor. You felt light headed, the world blurred around you, giggling to yourself at the feeling in your chest. What the hell was wrong with you. '

Walking down the aisle was a blur, literally and figuratively. Your eyes were filled with tears glazing over them but also the feeling walking down the floral pathway (vibes). You could smell the flowers and the salty air, you could feel the slight breeze coming off the water hitting your skin warmed by the beating sun’s rays, but you couldn’t really make anything else out but Trent at the end of it all, the bright devilishly handsome smile beaming back at you.Trent’s heart was thumping against his rib cage. Nostalgia rushing through him as he remembered the first time he saw you. You looked different today though in the best way possible. You looked older but in a mature more beautiful way. You looked less nervous but in a confident more beautiful way. You looked ethereal as your veil cascaded around you. The sunlight reflecting off the ocean water onto your skin through the cathedral length tulle around you. He definitely didn’t see it off the jump. He was focused on your stunning bronzy natural beachy made up face but the veil was embroidered with the date of your ceremony and a cheeky ‘Til’ Death Due Us Part - TAA.’ You were a vision, an angel on earth, and the love of his life. Your dress reflected and shined, it wasn’t anything like Trent was expecting. It was far better than anything he could’ve imagined.  He mouthed an ‘You look beautiful’ with his waterline filling with tears. You responded with a pouty ‘I love you.’ You said your vows and in a way it felt like you could sense a shift, like there was a change in you that felt more at ease. It wasn’t a valid or genuine worry Trent would leave you but you were insecure and in some way, the fact that you were stood with him in front of your family and friends declaring your love, committing your life to one another was such a relief to you. It was like you could feel the anxiety draining from your body. You kept things fairly simple at the ceremony. You were stood on the very edge of a grassy cliff at the resort overlooking the water. You had filled the area with summer floral arrangements, bunches of green hydrangeas, coral delphiniums, pink dahlias and yellow ranunculuses. You loved the contrast of your ornate dress with the relaxed environment. You had convinced Trent to wear a double breasted light tan linen suit from Brunello Cucinelli with a white button down. He looked delicious and just perfect. You held his hands across from you bitting the inside of your lip trying not to cry as you said your vows. You didn’t read any personal sentiments aloud because you knew neither of you would be able to get through them without balling. You had written them and planned to share them with each other on your own time but they were just for you two to share. You whispered back and forth something you had placed in both your vows, a rendered snippet from Beethoven's letter ‘Immortal Beloved’ and while it sounds pretentious it was just something you had once read aloud to Trent once on a plane. It stuck and you often said it to each other.

“Forever yours.” You quietly spoke just to Trent before the anticipated moment to seal your marriage with a kiss when prompted by the officiant. 

“Forever mine.” He responded the next line in a whisper. 

“Forever ours.” You whispered ghosting your lips over his leaning in a little closer. Trent moved in and you sunk into his pillow lips. It was paradise on earth. Nothing would ever be better than kissing… your husband. It was affectionate, sweet and sincere, long enough that your photographer had a chance to get the best photo and the officiant to step out of the way. You turned around to look at all your family and friends, plenty of tears being shed in their seats. Teddy was sitting more quietly than you could’ve hoped on Dianne’s lap in the front row of seats clapping along with everyone else.

“C’mere, baby bear.” Trent cooed, picking up Teddy in his arms. He grabbed for your hand again, kissing your lips once more. “Happy for mummy and daddy?” He asked Teddy quietly in her ear. She nodded then reached out for your attention. You cupped her cheek and rubbed your nose against hers. 

“You, me, and daddy forever, okay?” You whispered to her before kissing her lips. She giggled in Trent’s arms as you processed down the aisle as The Alexander - Arnold’s. You spent a good amount of time, maybe an hour or so taking photos just the three of you before your reception. Tears welled up in your eyes as you poorly tried to blink them away seeing photos being taken of just Trent and Teddy. They were your whole world but they were also so strikingly beautiful. Your bottom lip rolled into a pout looking on. You didn’t have to say anything Trent could read you like a book. You watched him whisper something to Teddy. He placed her on the grass and she ran to you with giggles.

“Mama! Mama!” She squealed. You bent down the best you could to her level, slightly restricted in your dress. “Piture with dada and Teddy.” She grabbed at your hand and pulled you. “Dada say pretty like mama.” She stopped the tug of your arm to twirl a little in front of you showing you her own dress she was absolutely loving being in. 

“Yeah, my most beautiful girl. Mummy and Daddy’s pretty girl.” You pulled her back into you to kiss her lips and then let her run back to Trent as you followed in her wake. You had put Teddy in a fun Gucci dress. It was summer in Montauk, you didn’t want her to be uncomfortable or give her any space to be upset or complain so you had found a really fun marine motif printed smock pleated dress in creams, blues, and pinks. She really liked twirling about in it and asking everyone she could if they had seen the ‘fwish’ on it which was adorable of course. Her hair brushed tight and slicked into a bun with a few ringlets escaping. 

Your guests found their way and funneled over to the back garden overlooking the sea at your parent’s estate. You had one long table scape for all your guests for the dinner portion that lined and ran directly along the edge of the property next to the water’s edge. It had the same wildflower arrangements like those from the ceremony on the table’s runner. It was earthy and calm, natural and relaxed but of course you needed to change looks for the reception. You weren’t going to wear just one dress on your big day. You switched into a Tom Ford crochet knit dress. It was more laid back. Although it definitely didn’t feel all that relaxed to Trent.

“You need to stop looking so good or I’m going to have to make you leave our own wedding.” Tried cheekily cooed wrapping his arms low around your waist pulling your body flush against his. “You’ve been teasing me all day. Those sneaky pictures were unfair, baby. Can’t see my wife looking like that and expect me to behave.” He whispered closer to your ear.

“T… I am counting down the minutes until you take me out of the dress.” You giggled whispering back to him. “You didn’t like the photos? I thought my husband would want to see me like that only for him.” You sarcastically joked quietly to him. He hummed with some distain kissing your temple. You were in fact dreaming of Trent peeling your dress off, you wanted to rile him up with all the seductive photos you had left for him.  You were desperate to get back into bed with him but for now you had your wedding to celebrate. You sat in a chair next to Trent with Teddy on your knee as Winnie got up to speak. You’d be lying if you weren’t a little nervous for what she was going to say. She introduced herself and began, your heart racing.

“Erm… growing up with Y/N was a mixed bag. She was and is my best friend but constantly being compared to the most perfect person on earth gets old quick but I imagine Marce and Ty can relate and know that feeling quite well with T. It’s one of the many many reasons there are no two people more suited. Never have two more perfect people been paired together. The envy you evoke from the entire world is completely merited and we all hate.. I mean love you for it. 

"To the Alexander- Arnold boys, you are getting the best sister in the world. Somethings I know you’ve gotten a chance to come to know like you will always have the most fun and a good laugh, you will never have a bad cocktail I promise, you will always get great advise, although I’ve heard Tyler gives Y/N a run for her money in that department, and the best closet in the world to ‘borrow’ from but maybe that last bit doesn’t really apply to either of you, nevertheless she is the best sister in the world. You are inheriting one of the biggest blessings and joys of my life being related to Y/N…” Winnie continued rambling on for a little while before beginning to tell a story she wanted to share. “If you know Y/N, and I’m assuming you all do, she’s the bride.” She joked and you shook your head. “ Y/N is fairly synonymous with her best friend Lauren. They traveled a lot together and I’m not sure they every really knew where they were, I could frankly never keep up but what I did begin to notice was that a few years ago when Y/N was in England, I saw that Lauren was in Spain, when Lauren was in Amsterdam,  Y/N was in England, and then oddly enough when Lauren was in Paris… Y/N was still in England. To pull them apart, it had to be something good and to be fair, I think it was.” She looked at you with a cheeky grin as you hid behind your hands embarrassed. “I just wish you had told me what was keeping you in England earlier. So in retaliation for keeping your relationship so secretive in the beginning I’m going to embarrass you but it’s my job and you should’ve known this would come up at some point, sorry.” She giggled, raising her glass to you. You shook your head with a shy grin waiting apprehensively for her to say whatever it was going to be for her to embarrass you. “I remember my jaw just about dropping through the floor into the apartment below mine when Y/N finally admitted she was seeing someone and that was why she was still in England. I figured as much but it’d be fair to say it definitely wasn’t what I was expecting. I once received a text from Y/N when she and my dad had gone to Liverpool for a match a few years prior. She sent me a cheeky picture of the man next to her right now… Yes, I have it here.” Winnie spoke and held up her phone. “Thank you, Apple for saving this as well as unearthing a lot of my embarrassing drunk texts sent in the process but I will read Y/N’s text aloud for you all. ‘I am obsessed with this boy's face.’ She sent me his instagram beneath the text to which I responded ‘wow, are you with him?’” Winnie gestured to you. “Y/N was quick to reply ‘Are you..’  Please close Teddy girl’s ears, your mum curses in the next sentence. ‘Are you fucking insane? Did you look at his instagram he plays for the club. No I’m not with him! I’d have nothing to say!!!’ Well I think you were wrong because evidently you have had plenty to say. She then sent me a photo of Trent on the pitch, just doing his job, unaware his eventual wife was in the stadium. I will skip a more crude text she had also sent.” Winnie laughed and you mouthed an ‘oh my god’ tucking your face in Trent’s neck.

“T, if you want to read, I will show you. Mum, dad, Alexander-Arnold family, I will spare you from it but moving on… I, the smart girl that I am said ‘wow, maybe you’ll get married, get dad season tickets.’ Joking of course, but coming away with the relationship you and Trent have built and the love you share is much more lucrative and valuable than any match ticket, although I know dad has been thrilled with your choice of person to fall for. To be honest, as a younger sister it was hard for me to wrap my head around Y/N moving to a new country selfishly. I had eventually met Trent a little further into the relationship and he was everything and more. T, truly you are one of my favorite people in the world, we always have a good time, you’re a terrible loser, but the best man for Y/N and an amazing father as well.I really couldn’t build a more ideal man for Y/N and I know she agrees with me. Something I know about Y/N is that she isn’t one for the spotlight but it seems to find her, I mean.. have you seen her? Regardless, I was hesitant about the whole relationship. I was scared of the lifestyle, I was scared that she’d be overlooked and under-appreciated I won't lie but there was a turning point for me that I just wanted to share quickly. Trent was visiting our house here and I heard them in the kitchen late one night. As the younger sibling I had a responsibility to eavesdrop so I listened to Trent call her an angel and I felt like he, someone, finally really understood just how amazing she is. Trent, thank you for taking care of my sister and of course my cutie niece. She is an angel and all I ask in this marriage is that you never forget or never take for granted what an angel she is.” You weren’t able to hold in your tears back anymore. Hearing Winnie begin to sniffle between her words tipped you over the edge. You kissed Teddy’s head trying not to just entirely burst into a fit. Winnie carried on a little longer with a few more jokes and well wishes. You had cut a simple sheet cake that just had the same ‘Till Death Do Us Part’ again written atop it. Your mum hated it and you adored it. The night carried on and you had the best time of your life and you were adamant about staying in the moment but you were simultaneously eager for the night to be over so you could go home with Trent, it had been far too long. You enjoyed the night partying with family and friends, Winnie was glued to Jadon, Lauren to Jude and while you were dying to hear about it all you’d have to settle to ask about them another day. As the night dwindled down you had one thing in your mind and one thing only. Your mum had taken Teddy and you were left with Trent giggling your way through the door of your room. 

“Where are you going, beautiful.” Trent asked as you let go of him and scampered off into the bathroom. You giggled and shut the door into the ensuite. He wasn’t sure what you were doing but you knew that’d he’d like what you were doing. You slinked off your crochet dress and slipped into white lingerie that would make any man drool, right now, you’d hope it’d have that effect on your man. 

“For my husband.” You cooed opening the door standing in its frame illuminated by the warm bathroom light. Trent’s jaw slacked just the way you had wanted it to. 

“I am the luckiest man in the whole world. Holy fuck. C’mere baby.” He grinned at you. He stood up off the edge of the bed, taking both of your hands before he pulled you towards him. He sat you on the bed and leaned you backwards crawling over you. Things moved simultaneously slow and fast all at once. Before you knew it he had worked kisses down from your neck to in between your legs. 

“T, oh my god baby I missed you so much.” You breathed unsteadily as he kissed the inside of your thighs before he dove nose deep into your pussy eating you out like a starved animal after your days of no sex. He was eating you out messily and you were in heaven.  

“Fuck, baby. I needed this. I needed you.” He muffled out, his hot breath hitting against your wet folds covered with your juices and his spit. He played mercilessly with your pulsating clit. He was slurping you clean. Your legs were spread open for him as you gripped his hair pulling him further into you, shoving his face closer against you. The noise of it all was impossibly lewd. His plump lips latching on to your arousal. He had the cheekiest smile as he worked away, keeping his eyes flicked up to watch your face scrunch in pleasure. He dragged his tongue from your clit through your folds before he dove into your entrance, keeping his nose rubbing up and down against the sensitive nub. “Taste so fucking good, baby.” 

“Please, T! Right there, oh my god.” You whined, your thighs beginning to shake. The sound of your cries making Trent grow painfully hard. He groaned into your pussy and the vibrations made you throb even more. His lips were drenched with your westness, it ran down his chin and he was loving every second of it, and to no surprise, obviously you were too. He pulled away momentarily and spit directly on your pussy, you were so sensitive even the feeling of it running down you had you whining more. You could feel your back arch involuntarily off the bed. His tongue continued to swiftly maneuver against your opening. You were so wet Trent probably could probably drown between your legs. Swiftly you felt your first orgasm of the night crash over you. He hummed kissing your sensitive clit once more pulling away with a smug grin loving the fucked out expression on your face you couldn’t wipe if you tried. He worked kisses back up your body and each one lit your skin on fire. He dragged his two fingers through your folds before brining them up for you. 

“Open f’me, baby.” Trent whispered still working his kisses up you now at your neck as he brought his fingers covered in your juices and slipped them in between your lips. You moaned, swirling your tongue around his fingers sucking them like you would his cock. “Such a good girl.” He cooed removing them before he sloppily kissed you in between desperate breaths. He climbed over you once more and removed the last bit of your lingerie. “I really loved this, baby but I need to see more of you, this fucking body.” He cooed, beginning to pump his hardening cock in his hand dragging it through your wet folds.  

“T, I need you inside me. Please. I want you to fuck me. I want to take all of you. Make me take you.” You begged him desperate to feel his size stretch you out again.

“I got you, baby.” He whispered, guiding his length inside of you beginning slow languid strokes. You rolled your hips up into him. He groaned feeling your hands drop from around his neck to drag your nails down his back.  He looked down at you with his big mahogany eyes filled with love and laced with lust. You both moaned simultaneously as the sounds of your wet pussy squelched with every thrust stretching you out, hitting deeper and deeper. Trent bit his plump lip watching you take him. You wrapped your legs around his waist tightly pulling his body down into yours. Your foot dragged down his back. He kissed you and then pulled away with a devastatingly gorgeous smile. “You’re so perfect. So fucking beautiful.” He cooed. Trent really believed that he’d never laid eyes on anyone more beautiful than you. “God, just want to marry you all over again, want to get you pregnant again, make more babies that have the most beautiful mummy in the world.” 

“T. I want that. You’re so fucking amazing. I want everything with you. I want you. I want more of you, baby. I love you so much.” You babled frantically losing your breath as he pushed your knees higher up towards your chest. His eyes flicked down at your tits as they bounced from the force of his thrusts. You moaned feeling him find that spot, the spot, the one only he knew. He dropped his head into your boobs, stuffing his face between them. Your breath hitched when you felt him drag his tongue over your nipples before latching his lips to one and then the other after. Your bodies were made for one another and you could feel that sync in pleasure. Trent propped himself up above you to watch his length glide in and out, a white ring forming around the base of his cock. It’d been hours of you sprawled for him. 

“I love you so much. You’re made for me. Perfect for me. I missed this so much. Fuck you feel so good.”  Trent grunted, continuing his pace, lifting your one leg over his shoulder to pound into you deeper. His thrusts growing slightly sloppier. 

“Fuck me, baby. Don’t stop. Please.” You whined. Nothing could ever compare to this. Your chest heaving in and out beneath him. You looked up at him and it felt like with every thrust the more and more you fell in love with him, and the closer and closer you were getting to another orgasm. 

“I promise you, beautiful I will never stop fucking you for the rest of my life.” He cooed. His eyes had a glimmer in them that made your heart flutter. You were so in love with him. He was just so pretty and right now, very sexy. The way his perfect pout was slightly agape, the way his brow creased from the pleasure from fucking you was gorgeous. Only you could make him feel like this, only your pussy. Your body was made for his pleasure. Your jaw slacked when he picked up your other leg and had both held up against his shoulders. His cock pushed so deep you could see it bulge in your stomach. He leaned forwards and kissed you. “I want to get you pregnant again, baby. Fill you up so good.”  He bit your lip and pulled it. 

“T, please. I need you. Cum inside me. I want I do bad. Get me pregnant again.” You begged getting wetter by the second remembering the feeling what his release inside you felt like. Trent continued to rock into your sopping wet pussy. He was so rough and yet so gentle at the same time. He brushed a piece of your hair that had fallen in front of your face behind your ear. 

“Going to give you everything you ever want, baby.” He smiled at you, his dimples indenting in his cheeks. You reached up and cupped his face. Your eyes shut in pleasure. “Look at me, beautiful. Right here, yeah?” He asked as he continuously hit the spot he knew you loved and he could see it on your face. You opened your eyes just enough to see his smug grin. “That’s it right? This spot. You love this, baby.”  The pleasure was insatiable, it was so good. 

“Yeah, T. Yeah, please. You feel so good. Right there.” You whimpered out nodding desperately pulling him down for another kiss. He kissed you back passionately but you pulled away slightly. “T, baby. I’m going to cum. Feels so fucking good.” You whined as tears began to fill your eyes. “I love you so much.” You pouted up at him. 

“I know, pretty girl. Doing so good f’me.” He cooed gently, taking your hand off his face and lacing it with his and pinning it above your head. Your pussy tightened around his cock and you began to kiss his neck, nibbling and biting on his most sensitive areas. You bit down towards his collarbone when he thrusted particularly harshly into you. Your back arched up more pushing your body further into his. Every movement you made had Trent doing everything in his power to not cum. He couldn’t wait to fill you up but this felt too good to stop.  

“T… I’m cumming. I can’t. Oh my god, fuck!” You cried out. He collapsed further into you, his thrusts becoming more and more sloppy. You were moving in complete harmony and he couldn’t hold out any longer. 

“I gotta cum baby, gonna fill you up. Get you pregnant. Fuck you feel good.” His brow furrowed as he dropped his hands to your hips with a harsh grip as he thrusted into you again and again with more precision. “Make a mess, baby. Go ahead, beautiful. Cum f’me.” He grunted and you moaned as waves and waves of white hot pleasure coursed through you. He began to slow his pace. You wrapped your hands around his strong biceps, your nails leaving crescent marks in his skin as you pulled him into you more. You whined feeling yourself drip down the inside of your thighs. A puddle beneath you. You were following instructions, you were definitely making a mess on his cock. He held your hips tighter and he groaned as he pumped his hot white cum inside of you. It continued to ooze out with his slow thrusts. 

“You’re perfect.” You panted out half way delirious not even sure where you were but very sure whose you were. His. His forever. 

“This is the best day of my life.” He rolled over to your side and pulled you into him drowsily. His chest rose and fell as you moved tighter to him unable to keep away. Velvety ropes of him spilled out of your pussy. You wrapped your arms around his neck. “Good girl.” He whispered, kissing your forehead. 

“I… I love you so much T, baby.” You stuttered out barely able to form words. He hushed you pulling you into his slick warm skin. He peppered kisses all over you letting your body calm in his arms. 

“I love you so much, Mrs. Alexander Arnold.” He hummed with a smile seeing your pouty face, fucked out of your mind. You could barely keep your eyes open from the orgasmic haze you were currently in. He nuzzled his face into your hair and breathed you in. Waves and waves of comfort rushed through him from your scent alone. “My angel baby. You’re so beautiful. God, the most beautiful mummy, the most beautiful wife.” He cooed as his one hand gingerly and playfully toyed with the new stack of wedding ringers on your finger. 

•

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

Next part - Chapter 25 xx

[the-yellow-birdy]

Is it better to speak, or to die?

A/N: Long time no see! This is an unedited first draft of the "Call me by your name" with Jane Murdstone idea(without the grooming ofc). Please let me know if you want me to continue and idk if im gonna change this draft as well, since I wrote it a bit fast. Feedback is definitely appreciated!:)

L.O.L. - Yellowbird

//18+ audience only! - all characters are above the age of 18\\

Summer, 1867

As you felt the lightness and warmth spread across the naked skin of your body, the repeating of your thoughts was tuned out by the sound of crickets in the all-round shrubbery. Sweat dripped from your neck and down your clavicle, going further with every breath you took in of the thick mid-summer air. The serene crystals reflecting from the icy lake had never been more inviting. Your hair was drenched from your own sweat and sticking to your forehead in need of a wash from the shining water. You looked at your pocket watch.

A quarter to five.

Summers spent at your uncles were where you found the most solace. He and his wife were wonderful, they so often invited you to come here and visit them and their charming vacation home. Days here were spend, swimming in the many lakes and ponds you would find on your outings, visiting nearby cities, reading various books from your uncles’ impressive library and cherry-picking in the midday with your uncles’ wife, Mary. Mary was a warm, outgoing woman. She found joy and interest in everything she saw, while speaking terribly loud and out of order about it. A significant contrast to your more timid uncle. A quiet and closed of man, who preferred the comfort of his study and the much-appreciated knowledge of ancient artifacts from the dusty books he kept. 

When you saw through the personality differences, you found quickly, that they were made for each other. Especially when you on occasion caught a glimpse of them in the family room on your way to your chamber in the late evenings. There, in the privacy of their relation, they laugh, talk and exchange tender touches, soft laugh lines forming around your uncle’s mouth. 

More you haven’t dared stayed to witness, it would be rude and improper to impose on such tender moments.

The grass tickled your bare feet as you stretched the whole of your body.

There was to be a visitor this year. Uncle Cyrus was a widely acknowledged archeologist professor, teaching at the Da Vinci institute back in Berlin. He was a passionate individual who spent his summers nose deep in the same subject and area as his livelihood.

Although this year, your uncle had decided to open his home once more for interested candidates, who would very much like to visit the north Italian countryside with many findings from the grand sea not far. It had been several years since a fellow interested had accompanied him over the summer. Your uncle was an elderly gentleman, about seventy, his wife around a decade younger having carried no children nor related to any nieces or nephews except you, therefore he had begun searching for a new candidate.

It was to be a woman, he told you. A professor in anthropology, beginning the early stages of research in the areas of archeology.

“It is a marvel! Have you ever heard such unique wonder, Mary!”, your uncle shouted out of character, several weeks ago from his office, as you were sat reading in front of the fireplace. Truly a neck-breaking sight, as he stumbled frantically out of his study, your presence going unnoticed by him, and up the spiral staircase.

A woman. You had thought. 

Never had you heard of such a thing. A woman professor in anthropology.

You weren’t a daft girl yourself, of course you knew it was possible, never had you simply heard of it, often being told as a young girl to keep your head out of the clouds, the books you read had formed. Followed later, by restriction of said books. 

You sat back on your heels and let the wind blow against the ample flesh of your chest, yawning at the thought of the walk back to the vineyard. Brown and green stains had soiled the white fabric of your dress. You had laid upon it as an alternative for the blanket you had forgotten. Your undergarments used for drying the water of your skin. 

You begin dressing yourself by efficiently buttoning up your corset, followed by tying your undergarments and chemise. As you had put your dress and heeled boots on you stepped out of the Oaktree’s shadow and began your walk back home. You couldn’t remember at which hour the candidate would arrive, so you thought it best to pick up your pace.

---------

“Y/n! Wherever have you been, dear? You look as if the bear had gotten its paws on you.”, Mary looked bewildered as she descended the staircase.

The house was a French inspired Cascina residence. Beautifully build from the first laid brick to the last, with simple tree carved windows and a robust brick red roofing. The foyer of the home displayed simple white-yellow walls with paintings placed on them and the floor covered with a variety of Axminster carpeting.

It wasn’t grand, nor expensive, yet it was charming and the life it oozed never ceased to calm you, when you spend your summers here.

“Simply by the lake, Aunt Mary. I apologize for my appearance; I… tripped… on the way back.”, you lied, trying to seal it with a genuine smile.

She came quickly to where you stood. She held a gentle grip on your forearms, turning you in her grasp to further inspect. 

Her eyes looked upon your face, “tripped you say?”

“…badly”, you added, choosing not to look her in the eyes opting for the dress.

Aunt Mary apparently chose to leave the matter at hand, knowing the visitor would be arriving at any moment now.

“Alright well, go wash yourself off and change to a dress that doesn’t make you look like a rogue child. Ms. Murdstone shall be arriving shortly.”, she gave you a light squeeze to your upper arms.

“Ms. Murdstone?”, you whispered.

“Yes yes, you know? The assisting candidate of your uncle.”

You nodded slowly, letting the name of the woman sink in. Ms. Murdstone. It was a rather odd name for an unmarried woman you pondered.

“Off you go!”

As you gave your aunt a curt smile and looked down, you went to ascend the staircase. Unbeknownst to you, a soaked washcloth was further from your reach than you had thought--

You froze in the middle of the staircase, quick steps of your uncle coming into view at the top, as three knocks had rung out in the room. Silence. 

You turned to look down at your aunt, yet her eyes already laid upon her husband. Hurriedly your uncle went past you.

“Y/n, there is no time, give a quick greeting and leave to change thereafter.” Mary whispered tightening your uncle’s butterfly.

How utterly humiliating. 

It is no secret that first impressions matter, yet your disorderly mind has kept you from making just that. This woman was going to be met by a soiled dirty looking young woman, will she not have a fright? 

Please lord, forgive my poor deeds.

As your uncle took a deep breath to calm his nerves and looked towards your aunt and you, a quick furrow of his eyebrows as he laid his eyes upon your dress, he turned the doorhandle and stepped aside.

In your peripheral you observed the darkness of the woman’s shadow, yet you couldn’t keep your gaze fixed upon the carpets any longer. 

“Ms. Murdstone, a pleasure to meet you!”, your uncle nervously laughed, his figure disappearing behind the woman.

It was the first glance you ever laid upon her.

As she sauntered through the blackwood door, the first thing you noticed was a significant height difference between her and yourself. She had the skin of a snowclad field in winter and hair black as raven feathers, styled to the sides of her head. She looked around the space as if assessing the quality of the housing, foregoing any introduction of herself. The woman wore an all-black attire, from her corsage to her skirts, to her low sitting cap. Her gloved hands were clad in front of her, trading the warm energy of the home with a sophisticated and poised aura.

The woman turned midway through the door, looking at your uncle, “pleasures all mine, Mr. Bamford”, said the woman with a faux saccharine undertone. 

She smoothly shifted her focus in front of your aunt. “Mrs. Bamford, I presume?”, her honeyed smile went wide as she looked down upon your aunt, yet her eyes held something much unalike.

You looked to your aunt, her mouth fell slightly agape, “Uh.. Uhm.. yes, welcome”. She stuttered.

It was clear that the woman’s intensity had gotten the better of both Aunt Mary and your uncle.

“And this is…?”, you quickly turned your head to the woman who now, was meandering in your direction. Her eyes were trained on your face, and unamused expression had fallen upon hers. She looked back at your uncle as if expecting an answer. 

“Uhm Y/n, sorry... Ms. L/n…, Ms Murdstone”, you looked down. Your vision was disrupted by black fabric coming to place right in front of you.

Ms. Murdstone gave an unimpressed glance to your aunt and uncle, “I see. Look at me girl.”

A hand came to lift your chin.

You watched as she tilted her head to observe the state of you. Definitely not impressed. Your eyes searched for your aunt and uncle, who simply ignored your silent pleas, and kept up their mannered smiles. They gave each other a short-whiled look and went back to woman and the scene unfolding.

As your eyes went back to the woman, your spine chilling at the sight of the woman’s light blue eyes and found she had been staring directly at your face. 

Hopefully she is not bothered by it, it is not simply a dress to clean.

She quickly let go of you again. Her gaze leaving as fast as it came. Ms. Murdstone wandering further into the house, “My belongings have been left outside by the carriage, I believe a maid will fetch it, or am I to do so myself?”

“Oh yes, of course uhm, right away!”, exclaimed your uncle and went to call for the staff, while your aunt scurried after the observing woman, already entering another area of the house.

*click*

As you closed the heavy wooden door you watched your reflection in the window. Nervously you studied yourself. 

I don’t believe I have any filth on my face.

Tagelist:

@readingtheentrails @ladybathoryy @aemilia19

[buckymorelikefuckme]

pluvious

bucky barnes x reader

words: 912

warnings: **18+ ONLY** smut, clothed sex, unprotected sex (don't do that), creampie.

a/n: i finally have some bucky spice on this blog!! praise be! any and all mistakes are mine. feedback is encouraged & appreciated ♡

What started out as an innocent lunch date had rapidly taken a turn neither you nor Bucky expected.

He'd driven you out to a beautiful piece of land with a small pond and trees surrounding it. The area was secluded, the only sound that of birds and other wildlife chittering about. Bucky laid out a thin blanket for the two of you to sit on, placing a basket filled with tea sandwiches and fruit in one corner.

It didn't take long for the act of feeding each other to light flames of desire. You were on your back with Bucky on top of you before you even realized it.

The skies had been overcast all morning, but you hadn't thought anything of it. When you felt the first raindrop on your cheek, you startled a little. Bucky pulled away from where he was sucking a bruise on your collarbone and raised a questioning eyebrow at you.

You opened your mouth to explain, but suddenly a downpour began. You shared a brief, surprised silence with Bucky, and then you were both rushing to gather your things and making a mad dash for his car. By the time you made it there, you were soaked to the bone, giggling as he fumbled to unlock the doors.

He made quick work of tossing the basket into the floorboard, rounding the car to the back so he could open the hatch and lower the seats until they were flat. He spread out the damp quilt you were previously sitting on and gestured for you to climb in. You hadn't stopped smiling the whole time.

“Never a dull moment with you, is it?” you giggled, settling on your back as Bucky followed with a matching grin. “It's always gotta be an adventure.”

“Of course! Have to make sure I keep you on your toes, make things interesting so you’ll stick around,” he replied with a wink.

It was easy to pick up where you'd left off. Bucky kissed you, slow and sensual, so good it had your toes curling. You thanked your lucky stars you'd chosen to wear a flowy skirt, because when he attempted to undress you and himself, he'd grunted in frustration. Your sodden clothes were sticking to your skin stubbornly.

He'd settled for pushing your shirt up as high as it could go and gave the same treatment for your skirt. He nearly ripped his own shirt in his haste to remove it and you laughed when he finally freed himself of it, chucking it to the side as he hastily unzipped his jeans. He definitely wouldn't have had luck taking those off all the way, so they were shoved halfway down his thighs, along with his underwear.

He wrapped his hand around his cock, giving it a few strokes to ease the tension, then reached to slide your panties to the side so he could sink two fingers into your warm pussy.

“F-Fuck,” you gasped, legs falling open as you welcomed him in.

Only a few minutes passed with him fucking his fingers into you before you got impatient.

“Bucky, please, just fuck me,” you begged.

He didn't even try to argue. He used your wetness to lube up his cock a bit, shuffling forward to line himself up and thrusting into you, wasting no time at all.

Your moans were almost drowned out by the sound of the rain, especially since he left the hatch open. Almost, but not quite. Instead, your soft sighs, calls of his name like a prayer, and lust-filled groans mixed with the rain like a symphony in perfect harmony.

Bucky’s hips pistoned into you in the best way. His cock filled you to your absolute limit, stretching you deliciously, hitting all the right places. You grabbed his shoulders and pulled him down to you. He rested his weight on his elbows, his hands gently pushing your wet hair off your face. He cradled your cheeks as he leaned in and kissed you, exhaling in bliss when your tongue met his. Your hands slid across the slippery skin of his back, desperate to just touch and feel and be as close as possible. You locked your ankles around him and held on.

“Fuck, baby. You're so tight, so warm,” he moaned, thrusting faster, harder.

You keened. “Just for you, Buck. Only for you. No one else. Never want anyone else.”

With a growl, Bucky began fucking you brutally, loving the way you cried out, voice cracking. You could feel the car shaking with his violent thrusts and the thought made you whine, had heat creeping up your neck. If anyone happened upon this area, not only would they be able to see the movement of the car, but they'd hear how good Bucky was fucking you.

“This pussy is mine,” he swore.

“Yes, yes, it's yours, I’m yours,” you agreed quickly.

He licked his thumb then brought it down to your swollen clit. You exclaimed his name, clenching around his cock as your orgasm hit you without warning. You whimpered, whined, riding out the pure ecstasy racing through your veins. Bucky thrusted a few more times before stilling, groaning deeply as he emptied himself inside you.

The rain continued pouring as you both breathed heavily in each other’s space. Bucky trailed soft kisses up your neck, mumbling praises that had you smiling bashfully.

It wasn't the original plan for the day, yet it turned out better. Much better.