#I need to think of filling it up four years has so much to happen but also there's the restrictions and obstacles avoiding it from

[mobolanz]

Contemplating how would a secretive relationship with Reiner makes sense when building up through the four years end of rts and marley arc gap asking for a friend as in be your own best friend (⁠ʘ⁠ᴗ⁠ʘ⁠✿⁠)

[dreaming-medium]

Stray Kids Kinktober Day 8

Stray Kids Kinktober Masterlist

Breeding - Bang Chan

Word Count: 8.4k

Summary: Your family’s yearly vacation is here and once again, you’re single. To avoid having your dating life be poked and prodded by your relatives, you decide to turn your best friend for a little help. Everyone already knows him! What’s the worst that could happen if he pretends to be your boyfriend for the week?

—————————————————————————

“It’s going to be a disaster,” you lament, leaning your head back over your couch. Your coffee mug gripped tightly in your hand.

A random movie is playing on your TV, but neither you nor your best friend are paying attention.

“It will not,” Chan chides and nudges your arm with his elbow.

He sips his own drink slowly, watching you throw your arm over your eyes.

“Yes it will! Every year my family goes on this vacation to the mountains, and every year I’m reminded that I’m the only single adult in the family.”

You sigh.

“You’re not the only single one, what about your cousin?”

“He started dating someone about a month after last year’s vacation. They’re still together, so she’s coming on the trip.” Your tone switches to something less dramatic. “She’s lovely, by the way, you’d like her. Very friendly.”

Chan laughs. “So, you’re single and alone there, what’s the worst that could happen? It’s your family. ”

“They make fun of me the whole time! And if I do anything my mom doesn’t like, she’ll go ‘this is why you don’t have a boyfriend, Y/N.’ Ugh!”

“Aren’t there only four ‘older’ cousins?”

“Yes, and I’m the only single one above the age of seventeen. I’m twenty four and I am going to die alone.”

Your arm drops from your eyes and you stare up at the ceiling.

The air in your apartment is warm and comfortable. Candles burn on the table beside you, filling the house with a pleasant warm cinnamon scent.

It was always one of Chan’s favorites.

“How long until the trip?” he asks.

“Next weekend.”

“Not enough time for a dating app, huh?”

You force a laugh, “No. Can you imagine? ‘Coffee was great! You wanna come on a week-long vacation with me and my giant, loud family?’ They would run for the hills.”

“Your family is great and you know it.”

“I know, they’re just… obnoxiously close, that’s all. I love them, don’t get me wrong.” Your arm slides off your eyes and you stare up at the ceiling. “But if I need to listen to my aunt nitpick my appearance in passive aggressive ways to ‘help’, I might kill myself.”

Chan takes a long sip of his drink. “They’re not that bad.”

You roll your eyes. “They love you so much, what would you know? Every time I bring you around them I always get tons of questions afterwards about you. I think my cousin is in love with you.”

“Which one?”

“Lily.”

“She’s twelve.”

“Twelve and in love with you.”

Both of you sit in silence for a moment. Chan’s attention slides back to the TV. He’s looking at it, but he’s not absorbing what’s really playing.

Same with you, you’re too busy wrapped up in your thoughts when an idea hits you all of a sudden.

“That’s it!” you yell, sitting up straight. Your voice startles Chan and he almost spills his drink all over your couch.

“What? What’s it?” he asks quickly, checking his pants to make sure nothing spilled.

“You can come with me!”

“You want me to go on your family’s yearly vacation in place of a boyfriend?”

“I want you to come on my family’s yearly vacation as my boyfriend.”

Chan’s head snaps over to you, his eyes wide and his jaw dropped. You’re already looking at him with pleading eyes.

“Please, Chan!” you beg before he has a chance to say no. “Please, please, please!” you repeat over and over again.

Placing your coffee on the table, you crawl closer to him on the couch, begging over and over again.

“They already love you so much! It would be so easy ! Plus, it’s all expenses paid! It’s a free vacation to a lake house in the mountains with your best friend!”

“Felix isn’t going.” Chan teases.

You whine and grab his free hand. “No, me! Your best friend! Pretty please Chan! I’ll owe you big time!”

He stares at you for a long moment, thinking it through in his head. You’re staring at him with big, pleading, sparkly eyes. He’s never been able to say no to that look.

He sucks his teeth, head cocking to the side for a second. The hand in yours twitches and he holds it, like a faux-shake.

“Fine,” he says. “But, you owe me dinner.”

Squealing, you throw your arms around his shoulders.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” He wraps his beverage-free hand around you and hugs you back. “You’re seriously the best, thank you!”

“I know, I know. Now can we please finish the movie?”

——————————————

The trunk to your car slams shut, Chan dusts his hands off and then rests them on his hips.

“You look like a dad,” you tell him while coming up to the car with your backpack slung over your shoulder.

“A dad who packed the trunk of your car perfectly.” He eyes the backpack on your shoulder. “That goes in the backseat. I’m not opening the trunk again.”

Giggling, you open the backdoor and toss it in.

“Can you drive?” you ask, batting your eyelashes. “You know how much I hate driving.”

Chan sighs and holds his hand out for the keys.

“You’re the best!” you cheer and toss them to him.

“Yeah, you keep saying that.” Chan rolls his eyes and ducks into the driver’s side of the car. “Do you have the address?”

You duck inside the car and start typing on your phone. “I should have it in my texts, one sec.”

Scrolling through your phone, you try to find the text that your aunt sent you with the address. Your family has rented the same AirBnb every year since you were fourteen and yet you could never remember the address of the place.

As you’re searching for it, a phone call from your mom comes in.

“Oh, hold on.” You say to Chan and hit the answer button.

“Hey, ma!” you greet into the phone.

“Hey, sweetie! Are you on your way yet?”

“We just got into the car, actually. We’re about to leave.”

“I thought you would’ve left an hour ago.”

“Chan got held up at work, actually. Not his fault.”

At the mention of his name, Chan perks up and looks over at you, listening to the phone call intently.

“Ah, gotcha. I still can’t believe you didn’t tell me you two finally started dating.”

“Yeah, well, it’s still kinda new,” you lie through your teeth. You look up and make eye contact with Chan. “We only became official about…”

His eyes widen and he looks around panicked. Quickly, he holds up three fingers.

“About three week-”

He moves about wildly.

“Months! Three months ago! Sorry, I’m a little distracted putting all the bags in the car.”

Chan reacts to your lie comically, his chin jutting forward, head cocking to the side. You wave him off silently. Your mother doesn’t seem to clock your panic about the situation.

“I always saw how the two of you looked at each other, it was only a matter of time, really.”

A blush crawls up your neck and turns your ears and cheeks red. Chan looks down at his lap and coughs nervously, a blush of his own making its way onto his skin.

“Anyway, we better get going, mom! You know how talking on the phone while driving is illegal and all.”

“Make Chan drive! He’s the boyfriend.”

“You’re so right… And he should do so without putting up a fuss.”

Chan motions down to himself, as if to say ‘I’m already the one in the driver’s seat’. You wave him off again, trying to focus on your mother’s voice.

“Okay, okay, I’ll see you soon, but I expect some questions to be answered when I see you, Y/N!” Her voice is teasing, but it makes your blood run cold.

“Of course, mom. I’ll talk to you later, okay? Bye, love you!”

You don’t give her a chance to answer you before you hang up.

The silence in the car is so loud, the air is so still.

“So,” you say slowly. “We need to come up with a backstory, huh?”

“It seems so.”

Another bout of silence.

Neither of you are looking at each other, you’re both facing forward, staring out the windshield.

“I’ll uh… find the address.”

“Yeah.”

You clear your throat awkwardly and scroll through your phone. Chan waits a second before starting the car.

——————————————

Chan turned one of the final corners of the trip onto the street.

“Our first date?” he asks.

“Coffee at the cafe by my apartment.”

“Second date?”

“Movies, we saw Barbie. We went out to eat afterwards. A diner.”

“When did we become official?”

“Three months ago. May 6th. You asked me after our third date.”

“And?”

“You kissed me at my door.”

“Good.”

You both pause for a moment.

“How come I can’t be the one that kissed you?” you tease him.

Chan laughs out loud and turns the car into the driveway. “As if you would ever make the first move.”

You look at him incredulously. “I so would! You’re the one who gets too nervous to do anything. I say I kissed you, not the other way around.”

“No way, I kissed you.”

Chan puts the car into park.

“Absolutely not. I kissed you first.” you reply.

“Keep dreaming. I walked you to your door, we stood there and talked for a minute. You went to walk inside, but I stopped you and kissed you.”

You unbuckle your seatbelt.

“No, after we talked, there was an awkward silence and I could see how nervous you were and how you kept looking at my lips. So, I took the first step and kissed you.”

Grabbing the door handle, you wrench it open before Chan could issue a rebuttal again.

He calls your name from inside the car and lets out a loud groan afterwards.

“You can’t have all the firsts, now can you?” you call back, walking around to the trunk.

The front door to the house rips open and two of your little cousins come tearing out of the house with happy smiles.

“Y/N! Y/N!” they both call out, sprinting up to you.

Leaning down, you scoop both of them up into a hug with both arms, giving them an equally excited hello. Both of them hug you tightly.

They’re five and nine years old, girl and boy– the youngest of the cousins.

“Look who else I brought with me,” you giggle and look over at Chan, who was watching you from the side of the car. The door still opened, his arm leaning on the top.

Both of their tiny gazes turn towards him and just like that, you’re forgotten about.

“Chan!” They both cheer and run at him full tilt.

He wraps both of them up in his strong arms and picks them off the ground.

“Hello, you two!” he coos and gives them both kisses on their heads.

Something twinges within your heart seeing him interact with the two of them that way, it goes through you like an arrow. His brown eyes are so warm and sparkly holding your two little cousins close to him.

A genuine, bright smile pulled across his beautiful face.

Chan steps away from the car and puts them on the ground, they both complain. “Come on, I need to help Y/N with the bags. I wouldn’t be a good boyfriend if I made her carry them all by herself.”

Your heart thuds again. Boyfriend.

The two kids groan and give in, running back into the house, telling everyone of your arrival.

Chan watches them for a moment before turning to look at you with a sheepish smile. You smile back and knock twice on the hood of your car.

“Come on then, boyfriend. These bags won't carry themselves.”

He laughs and grabs the bags from the trunk, arguing with you when you try to lift some of the heavier bags. Well, you weren’t going to argue about carrying something if you didn’t need to.

The cold air conditioned house was a familiar sight when you walked through the front door. One of your aunts was near the entrance when you first came in.

“Y/N, Chan, you’re here! We have you both in the room down here, I hope that’s okay.” she says, pointing to the room down the hall. It’s one of only three bedrooms on the first floor.

“Yeah! That’s totally fine, thank you.”

You smile and walk to the room, dropping your bags down on the bed.

The singular bed in the room.

Chan follows you inside the room with your bags, plopping them down on the floor by the door. You turn to look at him, he’s staring at the bed, most likely thinking the same thing that you are.

He closes the door behind you both.

“I didn’t think about this part.” you say quietly just in case someone was outside the door.

He shrugs. “Just don’t hog the blankets,” he jokes. Chan brushes it off so easily.

What you don’t know is his heart is racing just as much as yours is. His mouth has gone completely dry and he had to gulp down some nerves before jesting with you.

It’s just a bed, right? Both of you can share a bed, no problem. Not at all.

The two of you have fallen asleep on the couch together before. But, it’s not quite the same as sharing a bedroom for the next week.

“I didn’t think you would need any blankets since you’re a human space heater.” You open your one bag and pull out a few smaller things.

“You’re just jealous because you’re cold all the time.” Chan stands on the other side of the bed, plugging his phone charger into the wall.

“I’m not cold all the time.”

“You’re in a sweatshirt and it’s eighty five degrees outside.”

“We had the air conditioning on in the car.”

There’s a few knocks on the bedroom door. “Dinner!”

——————————————

Contrary to what you both originally thought, your family did not grill the two of you interrogation style about your relationship. Instead, you were met with a lot of “It was only a matter of time”.

Each time one of your family members said something along those lines, both you and Chan would grow extremely shy, faces flushing and hearts racing.

Dinner was held in the back room attached to the large kitchen, a long dining table sat in the room, benches full of your family members lined it.

There were so many of you: eight cousins, three aunts, two uncles, two parents, one sister, one brother in law, one grandmother.

This was not the first time Chan had been around your extremely large family, not at all. He’s around you all the time, especially when he can’t go home to Australia for holidays. You always invite him to your family celebrations, and each time he’s more than thrilled to be there.

Everyone was so happy that he was there; part of you thinks they’re happier to see him than you.

Dinner came and went, it was filled with laughter and stories, like it usually is. Your dad and his brothers all teased one another, bringing up stories of being young in the 70’s and 80’s.

“Let’s do a movie night!” One of your younger cousins turns to her older brother. “You’ve been promising me that we would watch Star Wars.”

“You want to watch Star Wars tonight?” he replies.

“Yes, please! Cousins movie night!" She cheers and grabs her plate. “We can set the couches up like last year!”

Chan leaned over and whispered in your ear, “Movie night?”

“There’s a den upstairs with a couple couches, we push them together to make a giant bed and all watch movies at night. Very common L/N Family Activity on vacation.” you answer, leaning closer to him. “The adults usually go to bed and all the cousins watch movies.”

“Sounds exciting.”

Both of you chuckle and smile at one another. His dimples showing. You two seem to be in your own little bubble.

Chan’s leaning so close his body heat is radiating through your clothes. The fabric of his shirt is brushing against your bare arm.

“You’ll find that there’s a certain schedule to each day, breakfast, play down at the lake, lunch, back to the lake, get ready for dinner, eat dinner, movie time.”

“I think I can get used to that.”

“You better.”

A throat clears by you. Your aunt is looking at the two of you with a playful smile. “Are you both going to help clean up or what?”

——————————————

“Dibs on sitting next to Y/N!” One of your little cousins calls out after you all finished pushing the couches together.

“No, I want to sit next to her!” Another yells out.

The youngest runs up and throws his arms around your hips, hugging you close to him. Both arms don’t make it around you all the way.

“No, me!”

You laugh and ruffle his hair. He holds you tighter and it knocks you off balance slightly.

“Come on, hon, you got to sit next to me at dinner, let someone else have a turn.” you coo down to him.

“No!” he pouts and hugs you tighter. You grimace and try to pry his arms off you.

Chan comes out of nowhere and picks your cousin off the ground in one fell swoop. “How about me, huh?” he teases and tickles your cousin with his one free hand.

Your cousin starts giggling like crazy.

“Don’t I get to sit next to my girlfriend?” he jokes and tickles him even more.

The biggest smile stretches over your face, heart warming once more.

Chan drops your cousin onto the couches, he bounces a bit, still laughing.

The tickle torture continues now that both of Chan’s hands are free. Giggles turn into cackles.

No matter how hard you try, you can’t fight the smile on your face and the feeling that stirs in your stomach. Are you ovulating? You have to be. There’s no other explanation for the flutter within your chest.

He just looks so natural like that. The teasing looked adorable.

It wasn’t until one of your older cousins came into the room before your gaze was taken away from Chan.

“Lovesick, eh?” he says in your ear.

“Oh, shut up.” You hit him in the arm.

“I know that look anywhere, Y/N. You can’t fool me.” He laughs and then walks to take his spot on the big couch huddle with his girlfriend.

Chan picks your little cousin up by the ankle and starts dragging him around. Both of their laughter was music to your ears.

“Okay, okay! Move time!” You call out to the two of them. Chan looks over at you immediately with the goofiest grin on his face.

Your little cousin groans.

“Give me my boyfriend back,” you tease and climb onto the couch.

After several minutes of figuring out seating and finding the movie on the TV, everyone was finally settled.

Chan sat directly next to you, his arm on the back of the couch behind you. Both of your legs stretched out in front of you and a shared blanket draped over you both.

The opening title sequence of Star Wars starts playing and silence falls over your cousins for the first time since you got there.

Absent-mindedly, Chan’s fingers lightly brush over the skin of your exposed shoulder from behind you. They trace small shapes lightly.

You can’t even focus on the movie in front of you, Chan’s touch is too distracting.

Your sister and her fiance sat on the other side of you. She leaned over and whispered in your ear about twenty minutes into the movie.

“You can cuddle with your boyfriend, you know.”

A flush crawls up your neck. “Yeah, of course I know that. I just didn’t want to–”

Chan must’ve heard her, his hand closes over your shoulder and brings you closer to him. Your body turns into his, head tucked underneath his chin. His body warmth seeps into you as soon as you press into him.

The cherry on top is when he presses a kiss to the crown of your hair before resting his chin on top of your head. A shockwave of goosebumps ripples through your body.

Thinking you were chilly, Chan wraps his other arm around you and holds you even closer.

Well, if he’s playing the part.

You intertwine your legs with his underneath the blanket. His heart jumps in his chest and he has to fight the urge to press another kiss into your hair.

Chan knew he was pushing his luck with the first one, but it just felt so natural, he couldn’t help himself. Every single time the two of you touch, he instinctually takes it further into a romantic zone.

Previously, he would restrain himself from advancing these moments with you, but now? He doesn’t need to hold himself back. He can let his body react naturally.

The movie continues on, whenever a younger cousin would ask any questions about the movie, one of the older kids would answer.

Whenever Chan was the one to answer, his voice would rumble deep within his chest. The later it got, the raspier it sounded.

Throughout the movie, you both just got more and more tangled up underneath the blanket. You slid an arm around to rest your hand on Chan’s chest; fingers mindlessly playing with the fabric of his t-shirt.

Chan melted into your touch so easily.

In all the years you’ve been close friends, you’ve never been this level of a human pretzel while hanging out. He’s relishing every moment of it. Your shared body heat mingling is intoxicating to him.

He’s such a tactile person, physical touch is definitely his love language.

Chan can’t remember a time he was ever this cozy while watching a movie.

One of his hands moves from your shoulder and into your hair, running his fingers through the strands gently.

Every muscle in your body relaxes when he starts scratching at your scalp lightly. His soft exhales puff out on your head. Normally, this would bother you, but instead you find it soothing.

Both of you were fighting against your eyelids towards the end of the movie. The little kids fell asleep about ten minutes before the credits rolled.

Chan squeezes you tighter for a moment before whispering into your hair, “Time for bed.”

Your heart squeezes. “I gotta help get the little ones to bed.”

“I got it,” he answers. “Go wash up and get to bed. I’ll be downstairs in a few.”

Words can’t even describe how much your heart melts at his words.

Pull it together, Y/N. He’s your fake boyfriend for the week, remember? Not your real one.

It’s Chan – Bang Chan. The same guy who held your hair each time you drank yourself sick in college. The guy who camps out at your dining room table to work because he claims the Wi-Fi is better at your apartment.

Nevertheless, you peel yourself off of him, untangling your limbs and sitting up.

“You’re the best,” you say to him with a sleepy smile.

“I know.”

——————————————

Sunlight streams in through the bedroom window and the air conditioning unit continuously hums in the room.

A strong arm squeezing tighter around your body is what drags you out of dreamland.

A searingly hot body is pressed flush against the back of yours; legs tangled up, back to chest, soft exhales blowing into your hair lightly.

The haze of sleep still has your mind in its grip. All you know in that moment is that it’s so cozy, so warm, so nice that you can’t help but press your body backwards into that serene clasp.

The arm tightens again and brings you even closer.

A nose nuzzles further into the back of your head.

Chan, it’s Chan behind you.

You should care. You should be prying his arm off your waist and scooting over away from him.

But you don’t want to. It’s too nice.

It’s so peaceful, you’re about to drift back to sleep when the sound of two separate footsteps run towards your bedroom door.

They’re so loud, it rips you from sleep and you tense up, preparing for impact.

Your bedroom door is practically flung open.

Chan jolts against your body at the noise, his eyes snap open, arm tightening around you even more in a protective manner.

He has about two seconds to get his bearings before both cousins leap onto the bed, yelling at you both to wake up.

Chan releases you and turns over onto his back with a deep groan.

You groan and squint your eyes closed, bringing the covers up over your head.

“Noooo…” you moan out.

Chan laughs and grabs one little cousin closely, hugging her close to his chest. “Are you in here to sleep in bed with us? I sure hope so since it’s still soooo early.”

She giggles and tries to fight against his strong arms. “No!” she cackles. “You have to eat breakfast so we can go swimming down at the lake!”

Your other, more calm, cousin squirms underneath the covers and cuddles up to you. Slinging an arm around him, you keep your eyes closed and try to let your mind drift off again.

This is not the first time he’s done this, and it most likely will not be the last. It breaks your heart thinking about the year he feels like he’s too old to do this.

Chan is practically wrestling with your cousin next to you. She squeals when he turns on his side with her encased in his arms.

“Chaaan!” she giggles.

After a few moments, he lets her go and she clambers off the bed.

“Come on, Chan! Come sit next to me at breakfast!” She pulls on his hand closest to the edge of the bed.

He laughs and turns his head to look at you. You’re fast asleep again with your younger cousin asleep in your arms.

Chan’s heart slams against his ribcage and his stomach does a cartwheel.

Your sleeping face is so peaceful, and the way your little cousin has the same hair color as you had the cogs in his mind turning.

What if that was your kid in your arms, not just a cousin?

What if it was his?

His eyes flicker all over your face.

Something stirs in his mind, shooting down his spine. If it wasn’t for your other little cousin yanking on his arm over and over again, probably would’ve watched you for a few more moments, allowing his mind to roam into dangerous territory.

——————————————

“You’re staring.” Your aunt sits next to Chan with a plate full of food.

He’s camped out on the back porch of the cabin. It overlooks the wooden stairs that lead down to the dock hanging over the lake.

You’re lounging out on a floaty, pina colada in your hand– courtesy of him. He had walked it down to you only a few moments ago.

When it was announced that it was lunch time, you told Chan you wanted to work on your tan without worrying about your cousins splashing you every five seconds.

Maybe making you a frozen drink was just an excuse to see your face light up when he brought it to you. Maybe it was an excuse to watch the water droplets slide over your body up close.

Chan clears his throat and tears his eyes off your lazing form. Clearly, he’d been caught staring at your bikini clad form.

She nudges his arm playfully. “Don’t be embarrassed, it would be weirder if you didn’t stare, you know.”

Your family can be so crass sometimes.

Chan laughs and takes a bite of the sandwich on his plate. “It’s just nice to see her relaxing for once.”

“Has she been working herself into the ground again?”

“She never stops.”

Your aunt nods and looks back down at you before taking a bite of her own food. “Also helps that she looks good in that bathing suit.” She pauses. “Damn, your kids will be good looking.”

Chan chokes on his bite of food, his body jerks forward and he slams his fist into his chest to try and get it down.

Your aunt pats him on the back a few times, laughing at his expense.

“What?” She questions with an evil chuckle. “Don’t act like you haven’t thought about it.”

“We’ve only been together for three months,” he wheezes out, still hitting his chest. The clump of food is sitting in his throat.

“And?”

“It’s too early to think about stuff like that,” he lies through his teeth.

You’re not even his. You’re not. This week will end and you’ll have to go back to just being best friends.

He’ll have to pretend that he wasn’t fake sleeping for the last hour before you woke up just to have his arms around you for a little while longer.

“Please.” Your aunt rolls her eyes and goes back to her food when another family member joins the table.

Chan takes a long swig of water before letting his eyes flicker to you once more. Your free hand hangs down in the water, head tilted back to dip into the cool lake, exposing your long, beautiful neck.

In his swim trunks, his cock twitches and he takes an even bigger drink of water.

——————————————

The torture continues endlessly for the two of you.

It’s the fourth night when it’s just you and Chan left awake.

Rain is pouring against the windows outside, the fireplace is lit, TV playing something in the background.

“I’m never going to get to bed.”

“I told you that you shouldn’t have had coffee with dessert,” you tease Chan, nudging his arm.

“Your uncle offered me a cup and I panicked.”

“You don’t even like coffee.”

“I know!” He whined.

You laugh at his expense. “Come on,” you tug on his arm. “You promised you would play pool with me.”

“When did I say that?”

“Literally this morning!”

“Fine, fine.”

He allows you to pull him off the couch with a dorky smile on his face. He loves giving you a hard time for no reason at all.

The pool table sat in the front room, just a few steps away from your bedroom.

Every time the two of you had gone to play pool, other family members would get in the way and pull one of you two in another direction.

Tonight was really the first night you both had to yourselves.

“You break,” you tell him once everything is set up. He nods and lines up his shot. After a second, he hits the cue ball perfectly into the cluster and all the balls scatter along the table, but nothing sinks into the pocket.

“Pity,” you tease him.

“Pity,” he repeats, mocking your tone.

Laughing, you bend over and line up your own shot. From across the table, Chan watches your form bend over, his lip pulling between his teeth mindlessly.

You hit the ball and sink one in.

With a cheer on the quieter side, you look at him with a smirk. He rolls his eyes playfully as you line up another shot.

The game continues just like this for a bit. Both of you going back and forth, missing most shots, but also nailing some good ones.

You’re tied at the end, racing to try and sink the 8-ball before the other person.

Leaning over the table right in front of him, you try and set up your aim.

“Wait,” Chan says quietly before you can pull the pool stick back to take your shot.

He leans down over you, pressing his back into yours, arms coming around you. He guides your aim to hit the cue ball differently.

The entire time, your heart rate is increasing exponentially.

“Just a bit more to the left,” he whispers in your ear. Chills rip down your body and you gulp. His voice sounds so low and sensual.

His hand over yours adjusts with tiny, miniscule movements. He keeps changing the aim a bit to the left, then a bit to the right, like he’s prolonging the contact.

Behind you, his hips are pressed into yours. It’s taking every ounce of willpower and control for him not to get hard in his sweats.

Especially, since in this position, he potentially could–

“Pull back,” he rasps. You follow his instructions immediately. He helps guide the pool stick back, hesitating for a moment. His chest inflates with a deep breath.

He breathes in the smell of your shampoo.

“Shoot,” he exhales.

With his guidance, you both shoot the ball, standing up quickly to watch it bounce off the 8-ball and then sinking into the corner pocket.

You cheer and jump up, turning around to face him directly.

“Take that!”

When you turned to face him, he hadn’t backed away yet. You’re practically nose to nose with Chan. A gasp catches in your throat from his proximity.

And yet, he still doesn’t back away. He continues to stare at you, his eyes dart from yours, down to your lips, then back up to your eyes again.

“Y/N,” he breathes out.

You swallow nervously and hold his eye contact.

Chan’s jaw clenches once, his hands ball into fists at his sides. Every single ounce of constraint is being tested within his body right now.

Cracks are going up the dam of his self control.

You’re not moving away; why aren’t you moving away from him?

He watches your eyes flicker down to his lips once and that’s all it takes for his mind to snap.

Chan lunges forward, grabbing your face with both of his hands and smashing your lips together. You let out a surprised noise against his mouth, your pool stick clattering to the ground.

Every bit of pent up aggression from the last few days is poured into the first kiss.

His hands aren’t on your face for long. He can’t keep still, sliding them all over your body; into your hair, down your sides, grabbing your hips, he’s everywhere.

“Fuck,” he growls against your lips. “Fuck, I’m sorry, Y/N. Shit.”

Even though he’s apologizing, he can’t stop himself. He can’t stop slotting his lips over yours, devouring your very being.

Chan’s eyebrows are pinched together painfully. He’s pinning your body against the pool table with his hips.

You grab at his shirt and pull him closer.

“Shut up,” you say in between heated kisses.

“But I–”

“Shut up.” Your tongue runs over his bottom lip and his mind whites out. Every rebuttal fell from his mind, through the floor and into the Earth.

You wrap your arms around his neck, bringing his face even closer to yours as he licks into your mouth. With each turn of your heads, your noses brush against one another.

Chan runs his hands down your body and grabs underneath your thighs, picking you up and placing you on the pool table.

Your legs part and he stands in between them, never leaving your lips once.

As he runs his hands up your legs, he squeezes your bare thighs every few inches. It makes your core clench and body tingle.

Your fingers run up through his hair, grabbing tightly and pulling. Chan moans into your mouth and moves his hands to grab at your waist, fingers curling into the fabric of your shirt.

“Chan,” you whisper on his lips. He responds with a grunt. “Need you.”

God.

His hands fly to your legs again, grabbing you by the knees, he yanks your hips forward. Your clothed core comes into direct contact with his erection.

“I can give you exactly what you need, baby.” he nips your lip with his teeth. “I can take good care of you, yeah?”

Trailing his fingers up, he toys with the waistband of your shorts. At the same time, he moves his kisses down your neck. You tilt your head back to give him more access.

“Wanna take these off, babygirl?” he moans when you roll your hips into his.

“Yes, please.” you hiss in response.

Lifting your hips, he grabs the fabric and slides it down your legs, tossing them onto the floor with the forgotten pool stick.

Kisses trail lower and lower down your neck as he lowers to the ground.

Chan pulls away to kneel onto the ground.

His eyes are heated and strong when they meet yours. A dark scarlet color covers his cheeks and down his neck, disappearing into his sleeveless shirt.

Both of his hands grab at your thighs when he looks down at your glistening cunt. You’re absolutely soaking wet by now.

Since the moment he helped you line up your shot, you felt your panties dampening.

Wasting no time, Chan leans forward and runs his tongue from the bottom of your slit all the way up to the top, swirling around your clit and sucking gently.

Your hand flies up to cover your mouth, the other rests on the table behind you to keep your balance.

He repeats the action again, this time with more fervor and you squint your eyes shut, head tossing back from the pleasure that rips down your spine like a zipper.

Chan’s hands tighten around your thighs, eyes staring up at you and studying each reaction closely.

You taste so fucking good. He can’t get enough of you. His tongue greedily scoops up your juices, licking around your clit to feel you grind into his face.

His cock throbs with each moan, each whine that makes it through your fingers held tightly over your mouth.

After one long suck on your clit, Chan dips his tongue inside you, licking at your walls. Your eyes roll back into your head, the hand over your mouth flies down to grip at his hair.

He can’t help but smirk into your folds.

Every single moan is music to his ears.

Slowly, he inches his fingers over and when he moves his tongue up to your clit, he slides a finger into you, immediately curling it up to hit that spongy spot inside you.

“Jesus fuck–!” you cry out as quiet as you can manage.

It doesn’t slip your mind that you’re quite literally in a house full of relatives who could wake up and come into the front room at any moment and see the two of you.

But the fear just adds an extra layer of arousal to you.

“Does that feel good, babygirl?” Chan mutters into your cunt. “Does it feel good to have my fingers inside you?”

He thrusts his finger in and out slowly, those brown eyes studying you like a predator studies prey.

You bite your lip, eyes closed, and nod your head.

Chan adds a second finger and your head tosses back again. He can feel you clench down hard on his fingers when he licks your clit in long, even strokes.

A thin sheen of sweat covers your body.

“Chan,” you whine.

“Yeah, baby?” he teases, licking up slowly, the pace of his fingers is equally as slow. But, regardless of the pace, he’s still coaxing you towards the edge of an orgasm. It’s building slowly, you can feel it in the pit of your stomach.

“Shit,” you buck your hips into his face when he does one particularly hard thrust.

“Use your words, little girl.” He bites your thigh and then goes back to your folds. You clench around him hard at the name.

How are you supposed to use your words when your voice keeps getting caught in your throat? When every time you think you can open your mouth, a sultry moan tumbles out.

“N-Need you,” you manage to strain out.

A devilish smile pulls at his lips. He begins to thrust faster with his fingers, licking your clit quicker.

“Need me?” He asks in between licks. “You need me?”

Veins are popping in your neck from straining to keep your voice down.

“Yes, fuck!” You hiss out. “ I need you.”

In between his legs, Chan can feel his cock weeping with precum. His mind is so clouded with lust he can barely think straight.

Desperately, he wishes that you didn’t have to keep your voice down. He wants to make you scream.

Faster and faster he thrusts and licks at your soaking cunt, greedily tasting your juices.

Your thighs twitch on either side of his head the closer you get to your orgasm.

“Chan,” you grab his attention by yanking on his hair. He grunts and looks up at you through his lashes, lips still devouring you. “Inside, inside. I need your cock inside me.”

Your words go straight to his dick, he licks at your cunt a few more times before standing to his feet quickly to lock your lips together, fingers still buried inside you.

When you taste your own slick on his tongue, your eyes roll back in your head and you clench around him. Chan smirks into the kiss, curling his fingers up.

He’s relentless. Tongue sliding over yours, moans being eaten up by a greedy mouth while his fingers fuck into you.

With more strength than you thought you had, you pry Chan’s lips off yours by pulling his hair back.

“If you don’t fuck me in the next thirty seconds, I’ll pin you down and ride you until your cock can’t cum anymore.”

An exhale is punched from his chest. His mind whites out. Chan’s mouth drops open and his fingers stutter within you.

Did you really just say that? That sounds like a fucking dream.

“Babygirl,” he growls darkly. “You have no idea what you’re asking for.”

Your eyes darken and you pull his hair again. “Fuck me until I can’t walk, Chris.”

Chan rips his fingers out of your cunt, grabs both of your hips and roughly pulls you off the pool table.

He fists a hand in the back of your hair and spins you around, shoving your head down, bending you over completely.

You’re lucky you had half a mind to put your arms out to rest your weight on your elbows.

Using his one foot, he knocks the inside of yours outwards to spread your legs even more.

“Fucking look at that,” he marvels, running his free hand up your ass and kneading a handful. After a second he reels back and brings his hand down with a painful smack.

Your one hand flies to your mouth to cover the squeak that you make.

“Bent over, soaking wet cunt just fucking waiting to take my cock.” His hand tightens in your hair. The other hand rips his sweatpants down to take his cock out. “What a good girl you are.”

Chan can’t remember a time he’s ever been this hard.

Casting a look over your shoulder, you look back at Chan. His eyes are blown out, lip pulled in a sneer as he fists his cock, staring directly at your fluttering walls clench around nothing.

“You wanna fill me up, Channie?”

His eyes snap up to yours with a predator-like stare. His hand stops pumping his own cock, hell, he even stops breathing.

Chan’s jaw clenches, every ounce of self control is being drained. How much more of this can he fucking take before he passes out?

“What?” His voice is so strained and hoarse.

Your eyes narrow and you wiggle your hips tauntingly. “Come on, Chan.”

Chan’s eyes darken. He fists your hair and shoves your face down on the table and slams his cock inside you.

Your mouth stretches open in a silent scream, but you don’t let the noise make it out of your body.

Chan’s eyes roll to the back. You feel so fucking good.

“Holy shit.” He moans out. “Jesus fuck you’re so fighting tight.”

He wastes no time, pulling his cock out to slam back inside you. Your back arches and hips press into his to meet his thrust.

Each sharp wave of pleasure shoots down your legs and into your toes.

Small gasps and whines make their way through your lips.

Chan leans down, yanking your hair back to pick your head up slightly. His face comes down next to yours.

“You like this, yeah?” He whispers harshly. Thrust after thrust slams against your cervix. “You like when it’s rough?”

Closing your eyes tightly, you keep your mouth shut, trying to nod with his hand so tightly wound in the crown of your hair.

“Better be quiet, then. Don’t want someone coming out and seeing you look like a cum hungry, whore.”

Over and over again he fucks into you.

After one harsh thrust, your mouth drops open and before you can moan loudly, Chan’s free hand covers your mouth tightly.

“Feels that good to have my cock inside you, huh? Can’t control that pretty mouth, you’re so fucked out.”

You whine and nod again. Nails digging into the felt of the pool table underneath you.

Hot, white pleasure is coursing through your veins. You’ve never been fucked like this in your life.

Chan leans down more and bites at the side of your neck, lapping at the skin and leaving small marks that will fade by the morning.

“You’re fucking lucky you have to be in a bathing suit in front of your family tomorrow. Otherwise I would leave my fucking mark all over you.” He bites, but doesn’t suck. “Make sure everyone knows you’re mine.”

Another whine is stopped by his hand.

“I have a better idea, babygirl.” He bites your earlobe, pace slowing down within you. Instead, he thrusts deeper, you can practically feel him within your gut. “I’m going to do exactly what you said, yeah? Fill you up? Make that pussy sloppy with my fucking load.”

Your hips jerk back into his to try and encourage him to pick up the pace. Chan only tightens his hold in your hair.

“You’re going to take whatever I give you, every last fucking drop. Even after I pull out, I’ll stuff you with my fucking fingers so nothing gets wasted.”

Arching your back, you press into him more.

“You want that, huh?” He growls, biting your ear. His pace picks up gradually, each thrust rougher and faster than the last. “You want my seed inside you?”

You nod pathetically.

“You want me to fuck a baby into you?”

His thrusts start growing erratic.

You never expected him to be this talkative during sex. But he hasn’t shut up once.

Another nod accompanied with a whine comes from you. You’re absolutely drowning in pleasure.

“Gunna carry my kids, got the fucking perfect hips for it, yeah? You’ll look so fucking hot all pregnant with our kids. Fuck.”

He’s so lost and fucked out, he can’t stop his mouth from running, spewing all his fantasies.

Moving his hand from your mouth, he trails it down to grab at your throat.

“Chan!” You moan out, licking your dry lips.

“Can feel you clenching, babygirl. You gonna cum for me? Gunna cream on my cock? Suck up my cum and hold onto it with this tight fucking pussy?”

“Yes yes yes yes.” You pant over and over again. “Kiss me, kiss me, please”

When you turn your head, your lips smash together.

The coil in your gut is seconds from snapping.

You bite Chan’s lip and pull back.

“Fuck me full, daddy.”

Every muscle in his body tensed and his thrusts turn into something animalistic. The hand in your hair is so tight your scalp is screaming.

“Say it again.”

“Fu-huck,” is all you’re able to manage.

“Say it again.” He barks in your ear. You’re not going to be able sit down tomorrow.

“Daddy.”

A bite to your neck.

“Again.”

“Daddy! Fuck me, daddy!”

“Holy shit.” He whines in your ear. Hearing you say that makes him feel fucking insane. His body is acting on its own.

With a few more thrusts both of you are thrown over the edge at the same time. Your cunt clenching around him so tight, Chan can barely breathe.

His cock spurts and sprays within you, painting your walls white.

Every single sensation feels so good you think you leave for body for a few minutes. Your orgasm hit you like a ton of bricks.

His entire body is wrapped around yours. Grunts in your ear keep you grounded.

You feel so full.

Chan came inside you so much that it’s leaking out and dripping down the inside of your legs.

He pants heavily into your ear.

Releasing your neck, he lovingly runs his hand down your side, caressing your hip, massaging circles into the bone.

His hand slides around and cups your lower stomach tenderly.

Slowly, he unwinds his hand from your hair, kissing at the roots he’s been relentlessly pulling on. He scratches and rubs at your scalp to ease the ache.

But still, he hasn’t pulled out.

Chan kisses the top of your head and down to your face, kissing the cheek he’s able to reach.

You can’t catch your breath.

“Y/N,” he whispers into your hair.

You hum back to him, eyes still closed in bliss.

“I love you.”

Your heart jumps in your chest, Chan feels you clench around him.

“I love you too.” It falls from your lips so easily, like it’s been sitting there for so long, just waiting to be heard.

Both of your heads turn to kiss one another.

It’s so ungodly sweet for the events that just took place minutes ago.

His lips are so soft and plush, especially from being swollen from your steamy kisses.

Inside you, you can feel his cock twitch. Is he…?

Breathlessly, you pull away from his sweet kiss.

“Are you still hard?” you pant.

Sheepishly, he smiles and ruts into you. A moan catches in your throat.

“Babygirl, I’ve been waiting for so long to fuck you. It’s going to take a few times before I’m ready to call it a night.”

[dodgeballstuckonthegymceiling]

Can you do headcanons for a young child reader who constantly follows jax around, loves physical affection, and thinks jax is their 'dad'?

(Obviously this request is plantonic, not romantic!)

I think I might've went a little overboard with this one! Way longer than most of my posts but I guess that isn't really a bad thing ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯

Jax unwillingly becomeing a parent

★ His first and only question was how the hell did a four year old get in this situation. The headset should have been way out of reach for you. Questions that will never be answered, I guess.

★ After making you cry the first time he spoke to you he tried to steer clear of you. That worked out horribly because you seemed to want to always be near him. Much to everyone's confusion.

★ "oh my! Looks like the little one has taken an interest in you!" Was Cain's response to seeing you huddled up near Jax. At some point he gets a child harness to keep you in his line of sight. It's just easier this way.

★ By the way he didn't mean to make you cry, he just didn't know how young you were and said something he would've said to an adult. Kids cry easily, what are you gonna do?

★ Jax stole a few pillows from Kinger for you to sleep with. Yes, you don't technically need to sleep but he's not going to tell you that. Nap time is one of the only times he can get a moment to himself.

★ He gets beyond pissed when you get woken up during nap time. To the point where he's barely keeping it together and wants to beat whoever woke you up with a chair leg.

★ If you want to be picked up, then he's picking you up. It doesn't matter if he's talking to somebody or doing something. You'll get picked up while he's doing something and without missing a beat he'll continue like nothing happened.

★ Instead of giving you the usual Jax treatment, he just tells you the most outlandish lies while trying to convince you that they are true. Sometimes he tells you something that sounds so true you don't question his bullshit.

There's a list of things he's told you!

If you push down on Ragatha's nose it will make a honking noise.

There's a secret room hidden in a closet filled with veggies for people who are allergic to meat.

Birds aren't real.

When he was your age, he was a year older. (It took you a moment to figure that one out)

Caine is the tooth fairy.

★ Jax isn't known for his empathy, but he does feel conflicted when you talk about small details from your life before meeting him. What color your house was, the lullabies your mother sang and the books you used to be read. It all makes him think.

★ You're family might be looking for you, not knowing where you are and that you're trapped. Do you even realize this? They probably think you're dead, that something terrible happened to you. Those thoughts make his stomach sink.

★ If he cares about you this much he can only imagine the grief your family feels. You will forever be a blissfully ignorant child not knowing the truth of what's really going on.

[astonmartingf]

GREEDY ; SV5

sebastian vettel x interviewer!reader

. . . at the height of his career all vettel wants is to win. with four world championships on his back, his ego- out of the world, surely that's enough for a room in your life.

amgf i forgot to add this but!!! implied smut but no actual scene, yay! the first post in the main is greedy 😤✊ i love how this turned out, wrote it in one sitting too hahahaha i'm enjoying myself way too much, i hope you do to <3

death of a bachelor ; masterlist

“Nervous?” 

You walk out from the ensuite bathroom, finding the blonde German tangled up in the sheets, in that post-sex afterglow, hair- a sweaty mess, breaths labored, and eyes closed in blissed. It was indeed a sight to see, you’re proud, what can you say?

“Why would I be nervous?” Sebastian raises his eyebrows as you move closer to him, kissing his head before scooting in between the sheets.

“Your retirement? The media? My upcoming questions for the tribute?” 

Seb’s laughter filled the hotel room, wrapping his arms around yours, “Can’t let me catch a break can you?” he whispers in your ears, hands lingering lower your stomach.

You shake your head, fighting the smile growing on your face, “Need to keep you on your toes. Whatever will happen to that ego of yours if I praise you easily.”

Seb shrugs, “Understandable, I mean you praise me enough in bed, I think I will bust a nut if you praise me there and then in press interviews.”

Scoffing, you stand up, slapping his arms playfully- “You need to control that mouth of yours, it’s funny how you haven’t slipped up yet. About this, y’know.”

Grabbing your cheeks, Sebastian pulls you in for a kiss, “Can’t. Wouldn’t dare even. What’s mine is mine, and you are mine. There’s no way I’m telling.”

Lifting yourself, you straddle on his thighs, “You’re not that good at hiding either, other drivers are asking.” 

Peppering kisses on your neck, Sebastian groaned at the thought of the other drivers going to interviews with you. “Don’t remind me. I saw your interview with Lewis, and people are liking it way too much. Now I need to think of some snarky comment to turn all the attention back to you and me.”

A moan escapes your lips, laughter filled in between as you throw your head, back arching closer to Seb’s. “You’re insufferable.”

“I’m greedy. And I’m yours.”

You hum, letting Seb play with your thighs, “Is that why you brought me with you to Silverstone?”

“There’s nothing wrong with an early celebration right?”

You laugh, “Is that what we’re doing? Celebrating?”

Sebastian stops, pushing you back to the bed. Staring at his eyes, you see the hunger and determination inside them.

“Celebrating for the rest of our lives. Fuck, you’re driving me crazy liebe.”

sebastianvettel5

liked by interviewyln, lewishamilton, and 2,483,632 others

sebastianvettel5 how it started ten years ago and how it's going. retirement has never been better, all the things i want i have, and of course with you interviewyln

it took me a long time to even comprehend that i ended up with you. i was jealous, childish, and greedy. thank heavens that you gave me a chance, and here i am ten years later.

after my first interview with you, i knew i had to make the best first impression. who would've thought banter and snarky comments would lead us together.

and now, i wouldn't have it any other way with you and now with our daughter. i love you so much, thank you for being with me at my worst, and in the best times.

liebe, you'll always be in my heart.

comments are restricted by the user...

intervieweryln honey, thank you so much. i wouldn't have it any other way. through the thick and thin, we'll be together. i love you so much seb.

[hoshigray]

Been thinking about this scenario a lot, but ex-husband! Toji, where you two are pretty chill with each other, even after five years of divorce. But the feelings between you two start to parade back after all these years, and it all comes boiling over after spending one night together.

A/n: Been a while since I've done one of these scenario thingies, plus this idea has been rotting my mind for a long time, and I needed it to get out, lol. I pushed back my Gojo fic to tmrw or Thursday because my brain was not feeling like re-reading 3-4k words while running on one hour of sleep. So, instead, we're dropping this in its stead. Sorry about that, and hope you like this while I fix the fic up later today :) Any grammar/spelling errors on this will be dealt with tmrw.

Cw: ex-husband! Toji x fem! reader - implied that reader is entering their mid 30s - starts out cute the first half but smutty the next, so minors DNI - implied that Tsumiki and Megumi are around middle school age; 12 (T) and 11 (M) - pining; Toji is whipped for you, I fear - Daddy kink - prone bone position + mating press - pet names (baby, sweetheart, sweetie, mama, princess) - cervix fucking - praise - itty-bitty-tiny overstimulation - closure; happy ending (?).

Wc: 3.4k (wow, way longer than the last one, lol)

Ex-husband! Toji...

...who you've divorced after being together for four years. It was a marriage built on love, convenience, and heartache. There is no denying that Toji loved you very much; if anything, the man would set the world ablaze if anything were to happen to you. Especially when you were the sweetest thing that blessed his presence and his two children who were young at the time — Tsumiki and Megumi at age three. The fact that you loved him as much as he loved you is beyond doubt in Toji's mind. However, somewhere down the line, you felt a "shadow" that you could not surpass nor fill — the late wife of Toji.

You could tell that Toji still had a piece of him that just couldn't let the memory of his late wife go, and you understood that. Hence why you chose to leave him, which was glum for all parties, but Toji understood where you were coming from and signed the papers.

...who's still chill with you after the divorce. You two promised not to act like complete strangers, especially with Tsumiki and Megumi being close to you. Just because the ring isn't on your finger doesn't mean you must change completely. The two of you are comfortable enough to be in each other's company, taking turns watching over the kids and acting like you're still married by poking fun at one another like the good days.

"Hey, big guy," Toji turns to the kitchen hallway where you're looking at him, his usual black coffee in his mug still sheltered in your apartment cupboards. "You look like shit; too tired to go to the clubs to find some minx to wow you enough like you used to?"

He snickers at your brazenness. "Shut up, brat. I could ask the same fr' you. Got some good dick on the side to help that attitude of yours, baby?" After checking around to see if the kids are nearby, you give him the middle finger. He chuckles before sipping his coffee.

...whose kids adore and love you so much that they secretly try to have you and Toji in the same place, which the two of you are entirely aware of. Five years passed after your separation, though that doesn't hinder the children from wanting you back in their lives again. Because to them, you are always a Fushiguro, and the love for you will always be there. It's there when you go to Tsumiki's soccer games and drag your ex-husband to find a better seat on the bleachers to watch her play. It's there when Megumi tells his father he "accidentally" left his baseball bat at your place and "unfortunately" now has to spend the night there (and you always receive them). And it's there when you promise to come along on family trips, like going to the zoo and taking pictures by the Panda enclosure with his daughter or going to the aquarium and listening intently to his son explain all the different types of jellyfish.

Toji can't blame his own kin for being attached to you because you are still a mother in their eyes. And so to his.

...who has his wedding ring on his dog-tag necklace but always tucks it under his shirt whenever you're present. It gives him a peace of mind when it comes to you because if he can't be there for you 24/7, he knows you're under his protection whenever you need it. But the thought of you knowing he still wears it makes him anxious, worried that you'll take it the wrong way and request he never wears it again. So, for his sake, he keeps you blind to this secret. And he wonders if you ever wear yours...

...who welcomes you without hesitation when you have to spend the night at his place because he notices you're too exhausted to go home so late. The only problem is that there's no other room outside the kids and Toji's. And as much you protest, expressing your satisfaction with taking the couch, your ex-husband disagrees and will carry you to bed, sneering to himself as you try to wiggle out of his stronghold until he smacks the bedroom door closed with his leg.

"I told you I was fine sleeping on the couch, Toji." You complain to him, yet your back is pressed against his chest with his arm around your waist.

"And I told you not gonna happen, princess." his hold around you gets tighter, pulling you closer for him to rest his chin on your shoulder. "You'd probably fall off and smack that pretty face of y'rs on the floor."

"I would not—You know what," you stooped from saying anything further to the man grinning behind your ear. You shift a bit to make yourself comfortable. "Goodnight, Toji. And thank you."

It takes every fiber in his being to not kiss your cheek then and there. Exhaling softly through his nostrils as he lays his head back on the pillow. "No problem, sweetheart."

...who the last time he had someone after your separation was not feeling it at all. You even said he is free to do whatever he wants when moving on to the next minx that caught his attention. You two are adults and shouldn't feel entitled to putting each other on a leash. Despite that, he knew moving on from you wouldn't be easy — especially in the bedroom.

The women he's had after you can only be counted on one hand. No matter how good the fun was with the others, his mind would always crawl back to you. It didn't matter how different their hair was, what they dressed that night, or how fucking good the sex was; you would cloud his mind in some way. They weren't you. They weren't his sweet thing.

...who's extremely perplexed in a nightclub when he sees you. He didn't want to go in the first place until Satoru Gojo barged into his apartment, dragged him out in his best attire, and left Nanami (another victim of Gojo's foolishness) to babysit Megumi and Tsumiki. And it was bad enough that Gojo snaked away from Toji to the dance floor the second they got inside, the raven-haired man almost popping a vein in vexation.

So the older man resorts to just doing the usual gig: walking around before sitting at the bar to ask for a regular beer. He stays there for nearly half an hour, taking sips of his bottle while sweet-talking to the ladies that occasionally find him and give him his number. Things got really loud when the DJ at the discothèque played "Up!" by Lil Vada and DonnySolo, all the party people crowding the floor, bumping and grinding each other while singing the lyrics. It was at this point that Toji had enough of the massive headache growing in his head, so he was about to down his beer and leave the club; Gojo be damned because the fucker could find his own way home and then some.

But midway through putting the beer bottle on his scarred lips, something in Toji's peripheral captures his attention. And his jade eyes go wide at what he sees.

Down to the right side of the dance floor are booths catered to bigger parties, so it's obvious to notice when a single person sits alone on one of the round tables while everyone else is dancing their hearts out. That one person was you, observing the dance floor with your head on your hand resting on the table.

To say that Toji was flabbergasted by the image of you in a place like this after all these years was tough for him to comprehend. Yet what really had him in a chokehold was how stunning you were. From where he stood, he could tell that you dolled yourself quite a bit. Your hair was kept in a style that displayed your face wholly, and you were wearing a beautiful halter-neck dress with slits revealing your thighs deliciously.

He forgets how to breathe when your eyes drift in his direction and find him. You're just as surprised as he is for a short moment, but you offer him a familiar smile and beckon him to come to your side of the club. The older man wastes no time, paying the bartender and making his way through the crowd to your table. When he's close enough, he can tell that your dress is backless, exposing your smooth skin that calls for him to touch.

And when Toji notices the ring on your left hand — the old wedding ring he gifted you — the world around him comes to a complete standstill.

"Hey, big guy." He snaps back to look at your beautiful face, your smile still there to blind him, and the booth far from the dance floor and music so he can listen to your sweet voice. You move to the side to make room for him to sit. "Didn't think I'd find you here."

"Me neither." He admits to you as he takes a seat, his green orbs never leaving your figure. "What are you doin' here?"

"Some friends dragged me out here for one of their birthdays. I figured I'd be here for a few hours and loosen up a bit, you know? But I don't know, I guess I'm just so used to being at my place that I'm out of practice with clubs."

Toji nods at your answer. "Yeah, I was dragged here, too. I'm with—"

"Gojo? Yeah, I thought so. He's right there dancing with my friends." He pans around to the dance floor to see commotion at the center. The snow-haired man was dancing as a crowd formed around him, getting grinded on by a woman with a "happy birthday" headband.

Gojo notices the raven-headed man staring his way, pulls down his shades, and winks. That's when the reason why Toji was brought here in the first place hits him. Gojo knew you would be here tonight because of your friend's birthday. And now that you two are sitting alone, the wink signaled Toji to make his move.

"....Wanna get the hell outta here?"

You giggle at his suggestion. "Yeah, I don't feel like watching my friends get pregnant on the dance floor."

Toji snickers and grabs your hand to lead you out of the booth. He then drapes his denim jacket over your shoulders to cover your exposed shoulders and back, and the two of you leave the club without anyone noticing a thing.

...who spends the rest of the night with you as if you two are on a date again. It's late, so many shops around the area are closed already, but that doesn't stop the two of you from having fun. From sharing a meal at a nearby diner, walking around a shopping plaza admiring the silent ambiance, and listening to old tunes in his car as you two share stuff about your day while holding hands. And the change of mood completely baffles Toji. Nevertheless, when he sees the smile on your face and hears the sweet tune of your laughter, the grasp on your hand gets tighter with every minute. All his intentions go into enjoying having you with him like this again.

...who stays by your side until he has to drop you off at your place, parked his car to walk you to your apartment door. It's 1 o'clock in the morning, way later than Toji ever intended to stay out. Not that it matters now, because it's all worth it being able to walk with you. He doesn't let go of your hand even when his heart dies a little when you two arrive at your door.

"Had a good time?" You ask while unlocking the door; your eyes showcase subtle exhaustion but are overshadowed by your smile.

"Sure as hell did since I saw you at the club." He confesses, your chuckles casting a spell on him.

"Hmm, I'm glad you were there too, Toji." You meant those words, your eyes gazing into his, and the man's plunged deep into your gorgeous orbs. A feeling that he now realizes he wants to be the only one experiencing with you.

An awkward silence for a few seconds prompts you to snatch your hand away from his, causing his stomach to drop. "Sorry, your jacket" is what you use to excuse yourself, moving to take off the denim jacket. But Toji stops you, his hands stationed on your shoulders to keep you still.

"No, it's cold, sweetie." His voice is hushed, only for you to hear. "You can give it back next time."

Silence comes back again, but the air is heavier this time. The awkwardness is replaced with something more solicitous, more affectionate. You notice it when Toji has yet removed his hands from your shoulders, his large palms warming you up to the touch.

"Toji—"

"It's alright, baby." His gruff tone is still a whisper, and butterflies flutter in your stomach. "I won't do anythin'."

"No, no," you don't know what came over you, but you place your hands on his chest. Then your finger touches something from underneath his turtleneck, having you pull his collar down to pull out the dog-tag necklace that still harbors his old wedding ring. Toji's blood shifts to ice cold when you see the accessory — his anxiousness spikes up to an all-time high, only mere seconds from combusting based on whatever your response will be. And it comes.

"I...I want you to do something, Toji." It felt strange saying those words with your shaky confidence, though it's what you wished to express. "I want you..."

And just like that, whatever restraint that the older man had for you was butchered away. Emerald eyes take in every feature of your anticipating expression, and his lips come crashing down on yours.

...who couldn't care less how late it is right now because he finally has you where he wants you after all these years. It's 2:30 in the morning, way too late for loud noises as they'll disrupt the neighbors next door. But, again, Toji doesn't care about that. When he finally has you lying under him on your stomach, screaming out his name while he drives his cock deep inside you, what is there to care about?

The two of you are in the prone bone position, where you lie flat on your belly on the cream-white satin sheets of your bed, your legs in between Toji's and bare ass out for him to have easy access to your creamy cunt that hugs onto him all so well.

Tears paint your wet and sweaty face, drool escapes from the corner of your mouth and meets the sheets beneath you. The harsh thrusts of Toji's pelvis hitting your ass with such precision have you see stars, and his big hands keep your arms still. All you can hear are the ecstatic cries of your voice and the noises of skin smacking together.

"Nnmph!! Haaaah!! Ahhhh, yesssss, Daddy, just like that," your voice feels strained from all the screaming you've been doing for the past hour. Lips are swollen from the constant biting, your butt stinging from the intense contact with your ex-husband's pelvis. It's hard to think of anything but the man above you and his dick rearranging your slit like his personal toy. You never thought you'd experience this exhilarating and rewarding sensation again. And now that you do, it's all you want to indulge in. "H-Harder, pleaseeee, I want mo—Ahhhnnn!"

Toji grinds his hips down to your ass, churning your insides and grazing your cervix to the point of incoherent babbles. "Mmmm, oooh, shit, fuckin' shit. You're too tight on me, mama." He gives you a sharp thrust when you least expect it, and the walls of your chasm clamping down on his length has him hiss. It's hard to believe you're permitting him to have you like this. It's been five years. Five years of respectful boundaries and keeping a platonic relationship. Five years of denying feelings of want and desire. All those years of heavy guilt suddenly lifted from his shoulders just for him to have you under his bow again, your body quivering and voice shaky because of his touch.

It feels so surreal...But, God, Toji missed this so goddamn much. Missing your eyes, your smile, your touch, your body. Just you. Only you. "Hnnngh!! Damn, you feel so fuckin' good, baby. Can never have enough..."

"Mnnaaaah! Daddy, I'm gonna cummm, I'm gonna—Oooohh!!" The tip of his shaft scrapes the upper walls of your vagina, your brain pounding so hard to the point it hurts. "Pleaseee, let me cum, Daddyyy..."

He can tell you're close and senses your orgasm climbing up with his. That's when the pace of his hips goes erratically fast, jabbing your sweet spots and tender cervix, causing more tears to come down and your peak to finally release for the third time that night. As you cream on his cock, Toji's not too far from his own crescendo. Your velvety walls contract around his member divinely, and the older man spills his load into your quivering figure.

You're allowed to experience the aftershocks of your orgasm as you two let your bodies calm down, Toji laying his chest on your sweaty, heaving back. He then slowly removes his dick from your chasm, and the essence of your unioned sex feels cold while sliding down your inner thighs.

"Haaaaah...Mmmm, thank you, Toji." You whimper out as he lays kisses down your neck and shoulders. "Thank you..."

But little did you know that it wasn't the last of it. Before you could apprehend what was going on, Toji already had you flipped over to your back, stationing your legs on his shoulders to a mating press. And you see that his cock is not limp yet...

W-Wait a damn second—

"T-Toji, wait, hold on!" You try to rationalize with the man who aligns his shaft to your gushing vulva, and your sweat runs cold. "It's getting late. I just came three times already! We should—Nmmmph!!"

The head of his cock slides right in thanks to the slick and come lubricating your opening. Adding his weight onto you as he pushes his length deep into your chasm again, you cry choked sobs when he meets your cervix again, and his pelvis rubs against your clitoris. "Sorry, mama. Just lemme finish here, 'kay? Daddy missed havin' you like this, so I wanna give you all of me while I still can."

...who has your fatigued self lying on his chest, rubbing circles on your back and placing soft kisses on your forehead as you feel the effects of sleep slowly creep up on you. The lights are now off, the moonlight bargaining from the curtains being the only light source as you two are ready to gather whatever amount of sleep you can get.

"Hey, baby." But before that, Toji wants your attention for the last time before you sleep.

"Mhmm?" Your eyes are closed, but your ears are still open to listen.

His eyes drift down to the left hand that lays motionless on his chest. The gem on the ring flashes softly for it to be distinguishable. "How come you were wearin' your ring at the club?"

A few seconds go by before you give him the honest truth. "Same reason you wear yours. I always wear it when going out somewhere or alone someplace. Gives people the idea that I'm not ready for anyone else."

"Then why not wear it when I'm around?"

You giggle breathlessly. "Same reason why you don't let me see yours. I don't need a ring when I have you with me. A ring doesn't compare to my big man who will love and protect me wherever we go."

And Toji doesn't ask anything else after that. He lets you fall asleep in his arms and listens to your breathing follow a melodic rhythm. Your words stick with him even when his eyes close, and he soon falls into a deep sleep.

It's far-fetched to think that you two will be married again. Maybe it's possible in his dreams, but not in the real world. Regardless, Toji knows he will always stand beside you and be there for you. With or without a ring that's merely evidence of your love to outsiders. He knows you love him, and that's all he needs to keep moving. And if he could have you as his wife again, he'd sweep you off your feet in a heartbeat.

[lemonlover1110]

suguru as dad plss 🙏🙏

Suguru Geto

Summary: Suguru's twins just make mornings unnecessarily difficult.

Warnings: Fluff

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

Suguru knows how much you adore sleeping in, so he tries to help you with that task by taking over in the mornings. He wakes up early to begin cooking breakfast for his baby girls, making a special menu for each one of the twins. Nanako prefers a sweet breakfast while Mimiko leans more to the savory side.Suguru loves to spoil his four-year-old daughters, especially when it comes to food. 

When he’s done preparing breakfast, he wakes them up so they can start the day. They’re his little angels the first hour of the day, the sweetest the girls can possibly be. They clean up after themselves, have the best manners, and the most important part, they get along. Mimiko helps Nanako and vice versa– He doesn’t know what happens after breakfast though because his sweet girls turn into mini demons.

“Mimiko, did you put on your outfit?!” Suguru yells, checking if she’s somewhat ready. Mimiko delays the process of getting ready each and every morning, which makes Suguru run late. He drops them off at preschool before going to his job, but soon enough this routine will have to change because he’s always late.

“I don’t want to!” She stomps her little feet, walking to her bedroom to hide under the covers of her bed. She walks by her father as if he doesn’t have the ability to stop her. Which he won’t, not until he’s done with Nanako’s hair at least.

“How about space buns, honey? Do you like that idea?” Suguru changes to a sweet tone when talking to Nanako because even though both girls are difficult in the morning, she’s the easier one in the morning. She hums in response, more focused on playing with her dolls. 

“Ow! That hurts, daddy!” Nanako whines, even though the comb has yet to brush her hair. Suguru sighs, remembering to be patient with her. He isn’t even rough with her hair, he does everything possible to be gentle with those pesky knots that get in the way– But she seems to prefer running around with her hair tangled. 

He begins to comb her hair and style her hair, drowning out the cries that she makes just because she feels the brush on her hair. He looks at the clock, knowing that he still has some time but he needs to hurry up. Suguru wants to be early for once in his life, an arduous task these days. He clears his throat before yelling, “Mimiko, when I go in there you better be changed or else!”

“There. Go get changed, Nanako. I need to do your sister’s hair.” Suguru says, and Nanako pouts, but she puts her dolls down and goes to the bedroom to pick out her outfit for the day. Suguru stands up as well, and follows behind Nanako to grab Mimiko.

He wants to laugh, seeing his daughter’s body under her purple bed covers. Does she really think that she’s invisible once she’s under the covers? He’s smirking, very loudly asking, “Where is Mimiko? This girl disappeared from thin air.”

“Daddy, she’s there!” Nanako points out, and Suguru pretends to be shocked, hugging his little girl through the covers. He can already picture the pout that’s on the girl’s face after her sister snitched. Suguru takes the cover off, and he’s proven right.

“Let’s go get you ready, honey.” Suguru says, and he can see the tears building up in her eyes. She doesn’t want to. He sighs, before asking, “Why don’t you want to get ready? I thought you and your sister loved looking pretty.”

“You always say we look pretty no matter what. Do you lie to us?” Her eyes are filled to the brim with tears, one sudden move from Suguru will make this unnecessary longer. 

“No, baby! What I mean is…” What does he mean? He doesn’t know what he means. He takes a moment to think about it before turning the cards on her. “Why don’t you like getting ready? You know you two have to go to preschool, and I don’t like being late.”

“I don’t want to leave you, daddy.” Mimiko confesses, and it makes his heart flutter. His baby girls just make getting ready difficult because they don’t want to leave him. He’s already a big softie for his daughters, and this confession certainly doesn’t help. “Can’t we just stay with you?”

“Mimi, don’t you want to go with your friends? Nanako is excited.” Suguru says, and she hugs her father tightly. He hugs her back, kissing the top of her head. “Nanako, do you want to stay today?”

“Yes!” She doesn’t waste a second, and he thinks about it for a minute.

Would it be too bad to take the day off and keep them home just for today? It won’t become a routine… Except it definitely will. 

[sanatomis]

cw. none! except satoru falling asleep in your arms (he snores, it’s adorable).

It wasn’t a surprise to you when Satoru told you he has trouble sleeping. The confession came four months after your relationship became official—which finally happened after many, many years of dancing around one another. In those four months, despite being attached at the hip, you have never, ever seen him fall asleep before you. 

A small, secret part of you hoped for that to change; That your darling would find peace in your presence, and sleep without any sign of trouble. In an ideal world, his nights that were previously filled with insomnia would make way for loving cuddles and some very needed shut-eye. Though, that thought may have been the hopeless romantic in you. 

Of course, none of that actually happened. Satoru still runs on approximately four to five hours of sleep a day, and with the occupation he holds, you think that’s far too little. So, despite your fleeting wish, your relationship didn’t change that part of him—you didn’t change that part of him. Though, even if you’re unable to do much about his (concerning) lack of sleep, you make his waking moments much more bearable. 

His nights are still long, and the time that he sleeps is still short, except now—he enjoys the time that he spends awake. In the middle of the night, while the rest of Japan is asleep, Satoru is awake. Doing what, you wonder? Holding you. It’s all he does until his (still very human) body knocks him out and forces him to rest—he holds you. 

Every night is different, even if his routine is the same. Sometimes he’s seated against the headboard with you in-between his legs, your cute little face squished against him. Other times he’s spooning you from behind, and snuggling into the crook of your neck as he finds comfort in your scent. Though, he plays favourites, and enjoys it most when you’re cuddled into his chest—he gets to shield you from the world, and gets to keep you safely tucked away into his arms. 

Satoru often says he could spend hours simply sitting with you in his arms. You never quite understood why, however. Until now. 

You’re laying on the couch, and it’s not even remotely close to midnight, but your sweetheart is asleep. The faint noise of the TV hits your ears, but it quickly gets overshadowed by the small snores your boyfriend lets out. You quickly bite your bottom lip—cooing over him would surely wake him up. 

Of course, he does this. Of course, he snores. 

You smile at the thought, and shake your head knowingly. Satoru lays on his stomach, in-between your legs, and with his head on your chest. Both his arms are wrapped securely around you, and you fight another smile when he cuddles further into you. His hair tickles your chin when he does so, but you’d rather die than ever have him move away. He’s so ridiculously cute. With his mouth slightly parted, with low breaths steadily leaving his lips, and with all signs of stress faded from his pretty face. 

You bring a hand up towards him. It’s a careful movement, as you’re a little scared of waking him up and depriving yourself of such a sweet sight. Your fingers gently caress his face; from his jawline, to his cheekbone, to his nose. Subconsciously, a little smile appears on his lips, and you feel as if you’re the luckiest person alive for being allowed to witness it. 

Satoru moves shortly after. Not because he’s awake, but because he senses it when you move your hand away from him, and even while asleep—he chases after it. He leans into your touch, and lets out a soft, happy sigh when he does. It seems he found himself at peace once again. 

“So cute, mochi,” you sigh lovingly, and gently start carding your fingers through his hair. You bring your lips to the top of his head, and press a sweet, lingering kiss to it. “You’re so cute. I get it now.”

Satoru is asleep, finally. He’s resting, and at ease, and, well, a little bit loud still as the snores continue on—but he’s so very adorable. 

It makes the next three hours of sitting completely still all worth it. You didn’t need the feeling in your legs, anyway.

[onlymingyus]

Guilty

pairing; kwon soonyoung x f reader / lee jihoon x f reader

genre; smut (minors dni), angst, toxic, fluff

summary; you and soonyoung learn that the storm can only be weathered for so long before you need a lift raft to hold on to. but what happens when neither of you reach for each other in that storm?

warnings; cheating, toxic relationship dynamics, car accident, injuries, hospital, arguing, eating/drinking, pet names, crying (from pleasure and sadness), unprotected sex, oral (m & f receiving/giving), fingering, marking/biting, impact, dom!jihoon, dirty talk, less than ideal sexual experiences, i mean...there is just a lot -- i probably missed something.

w/c; 23.6k 

a/n; thank you so so much to my @onlyhuis for proofreading and being my rock while i wrote this bitch. this one was out of my comfort zone but i really wanted to try to dive into angst and something a bit more toxic with my plot. i hope you enjoy it.

before continuing remember reblogs are incredibly important and please read how to support me here

3 missed calls from Soonyoung❣️

Rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you sigh at the notification on your lock screen, thinking about the number of times you had tried to call him the day before only to get his voicemail. You think about the number of text messages that you have sent as you unlock your screen, looking at the four messages waiting for you. 

When Soonyoung told you about his job opportunity, you were excited for him. Dancing was his life and his biggest passion, with teaching coming in as a close second. The main drawback of the job offer was that he would be gone for a year and be in another country. 

Promises had been made to one another in an attempt to make the distance easier. You both promised to visit when you could and to keep in touch every single day. Things were easier said than done, it would seem. 

Soonyoung ❣️: I got in late. 

Soonyoung ❣️: I know you are going to be mad at me. 

Soonyoung ❣️: Call me when you wake up

Soonyoung ❣️: Love you 

You sigh, laying your phone down next to you after reading over the messages. Lately, they were all starting to look the same. There was always a “I got in late” message waiting for you and a “call me when you wake up" message waiting for you after a day of trying to keep in touch on your part. You knew he was working hard, but so were you. 

Sliding out of bed, your phone in tow, you leave it on the counter as you turn on the shower, letting the bathroom fill up with steam. It wasn’t like Soonyoung would know the exact moment you woke up anyway. He barely remembered the local time anymore, much less your schedule. He had made you wait. Now he could wait. 

Soonyoung knew he should be asleep. He had to wake up early to get to the studio but he was staring at his phone and hoping you would call him. He had checked the time back home at least five times and it was a Tuesday, which meant you had to get ready for work soon. 

Sighing loudly, Soonyoung scrolls back through the text messages that he had missed from you throughout the day. He hadn’t meant to ignore you; he never did. Time wasn’t his greatest ally lately and long days had turned into even longer nights. 

Y/N 😘: Hope you are having a good day babe 

Y/N 😘: Missing you 

Y/N 😘: Hope class has gone well. You are amazing ❣️

Y/N 😘: I’m going to bed 

Y/N 😘: Hope I get to talk to you tomorrow. I love you 

Kicking his legs out from under the covers, Soonyoung knocks his head back against the headboard. He groans under his breath as he gives in to his impatience, pressing down on your name and placing the phone up to his ear to listen to it ring. One ring, two rings, a third, and then your sweet voice tells him that you can’t come to the phone. Were you ignoring him? 

The sound of your ringtone makes you furrow your brows, your eyes closed, as water runs down your face towards your lips. You were almost done with your shower but you were almost certain you weren’t hearing things, especially when your phone rings for a second time. Wiping the water from your face, you rush to get out of the shower, wrapping a towel around you, just as the second call from Soonyoung goes unanswered. 

He had begun to turn over, a scowl on his face, when his phone lit up with a picture of your face. Staring at his phone for a few seconds, Soonyoung presses his tongue against his cheek before finally answering. 

“Hello?”

You could hear the disappointment in Soonyoung’s voice and for a split second, you felt a pang of guilt. You forget about the number of calls that went unanswered the day before as you lean against the counter with a frown on your face. 

“Hey, sorry, I was in the shower.” 

Shrugging, Soonyoung also seems to forget how bad he felt about missing your calls and not responding to your text until late. Instead, he just thinks about himself and what he is feeling at the moment: frustration. 

“Yeah, well, I asked for you to call me when you woke up, but I guess you didn’t check your phone.”  

Looking down as water drips onto the tile, you feel Soonyoung’s words eat at your heart until you remember waking up and seeing your own messages from the day before. You remember listening to his voicemail time and time again, as you hoped he would pick up the phone even for a moment to say something to you. 

“I did check it.” 

Furrowing his brows, Soonyoung is taken aback by your sudden shift in attitude towards him. He had expected an apology and maybe your sweet, comforting voice to lull him to sleep but clearly that wasn’t happening. 

“Oh? So you chose to ignore my messages and calls?” 

“Like you chose to ignore mine, Soonyoung? Seriously…” 

Your voice trails off as tears begin to well up in your eyes. There had been too many days recently that had started much like this one. You wanted to talk to your boyfriend and tell him how much you missed him, how much you loved him, and how proud of him you were that he was living his dream, but instead the two of you ended up in an argument. 

Swallowing hard, Soonyoung closes his eyes as he sits up in his bed, running his fingers through his hair and listening to the sounds of your breath through the phone. He could tell you were crying. He had heard it enough times over the phone at this point to know exactly what it sounded like. 

Now he was remembering seeing his phone light up throughout the day and checking it to see another missed call or text message from you. He remembered promising himself to call you back on the next break, only to get into a conversation with someone and lose track of time. 

Shaking his head, Soonyoung hears a soft sob over the phone as he looks out of his window at the dark skyline of the city, knowing the sun was still rising where you were. He would give anything to be there with you now, to be able to hold you and to make this better but instead he was on the other side of the world and it felt like he might as well be on another planet. 

“I’m sorry, baby. I–look, I don’t know what is wrong with me. It was a long day and when you didn’t answer my brain, just–” Shaking his head, Soonyoung stops to take a breath, deciding to stop giving you excuses. “I’m so fucking sorry. I love you so much.” 

This was the part when you would normally fold and tell him how much you loved him and forgive him. You always forgave Soonyoung because he was working so hard and you knew it was important but you were starting to feel like you were less important. Wiping your cheek with your free hand, you shake your head and bite at your bottom lip as Soonyoung whines your name when you don’t speak to him right away. 

“I have to get ready for work. I love you too. I hope you get some sleep.” 

Closing his eyes, Soonyoung lets out a breath, feeling his heart sink at your words. You hadn’t accepted his apology and you hadn’t wanted to hear his excuses. You just wanted off the phone, and at this point, he couldn’t blame you. 

“I–yeah, sure. Have a good day, babe.” 

The sound of the call ending before you even say goodbye is what stuns Soonyoung the most. Dropping the phone into his lap, he stares at it for a moment, your picture looking at him from his lockscreen before the display goes dark. 

Jihoon: Pizza?

You hadn’t been home long when the sound of a text message drew your attention to your phone. In truth, you had been avoiding your phone for most of the afternoon, knowing that Soonyoung was awake and at work. He had already been trying to make up for the day before by overcompensating and there was only so much that you could handle. 

Seeing the text message from his best friend, however, was a welcomed change. You knew there was a reason behind it. When you hadn’t answered him, Soonyoung had probably called Jihoon and begged him to check in on you, like he had started to do more often, but you didn’t mind it. 

Y/N: Only if you bring ice cream too. 

Jihoon smirks a bit to himself after seeing your response. He knew you would agree to dinner and he had a good idea that you’d want ice cream after the conversation he had had with Soonyoung about an hour prior. He knew that you two had gotten into an argument. That had started to become a routine and now this was becoming his; dinner and a dessert for you. 

You had always gotten along with your boyfriend’s best friend but since Soonyoung had taken the job and been gone for so long, Jihoon had become a rock in your life. You had become increasingly grateful to him, even if it was Soonyoung’s idea that he kept showing up with food and to be a shoulder to cry on. 

Offering you a half smile, Jihoon lifts the bag with the ice cream with one hand as he holds the pizza box with the other when you open the door. Your smile causes him to take a breath and for his smile to become a full one when you take the bag from him, ushering him inside. 

While Jihoon was happy to do this for you and Soonyoung, there was a part of him that found this more difficult every time. He was starting to love seeing that look on your face when you saw him—the way he could make your face light back up. 

“Come in. Sorry…the place is a wreck and I already changed into my pajamas. I literally can’t find a fuck to give today.” 

Moving into your place with you, Jihoon’s eyes move over your back and down your legs, just under your shorts, before he pulls them away out of respect with a sharp breath. Shaking his head, he looks around with a shrug before setting down the pizza on the coffee table as you move into the kitchen to put the ice cream in the freezer. 

“Your place looks lived in, Y/N, and you look fine. Making me wish I was in my pajamas, or that I looked half as good in mine.” 

Closing the door to your freezer, you pause at Jihoon’s compliment, feeling your cheeks starting to heat up. You didn’t mind it—the feeling of someone telling you that you looked good. It had been so long since Soonyoung had been home that you forgot what it was like to have someone compliment you like that, even if it was something so innocent. 

Jihoon curses himself under his breath, sitting down on your couch, at his forwardness. He never wanted to really cross a line. He knew who you were and he knew who he was; just lately, it was getting harder to really remember it. 

“Thanks, Jihoon, I’m sure you look very cute in your pajamas. Ya know, for the record.” 

You smile at Jihoon and he has to look down at his hands as he chuckles, trying to play off your words as if they don’t have any effect on him. He knew you weren’t actually flirting with him; that was a ridiculous passing thought in his mind, but god, sometimes he wished you weren’t Soonyoung’s. The moment the thought even comes to him, Jihoon clenches his fists and then stretches out his fingers to distract himself from it. 

“Mm, how was your day?” Swallowing hard, Jihoon glances up at you as he opens the top of the pizza box, gesturing towards it as you move around to sit next to him, closer than you had on other nights. “Eat. Don't let it get cold.” 

Taking a slice of the pizza, you pout at it before taking a small bite, letting the warmth of food and good company wash over you. You had heard Jihoon’s question, but it was a loaded one. Sighing, you furrow your brows as Jihoon swallows his own bite of pizza, glancing over at you with a concerned look on his face. 

“It was a bad one, Jihoon. I know that wasn’t really your question, but I’m not stupid. I know he called you and asked you to come over.” 

You shake your head and put your pizza back into the box. Jihoon frowns and does the same, watching pensively as you wipe your fingers on the end of your nightshirt, unwilling to put effort into getting up to get a napkin.

“I–well yeah, he did, but I wanted to bring you some dinner. We could talk about it, you know if you want to.” 

Jihoon watches as you furrow your brows and lean back on the couch, pulling your legs up under you. It hadn’t been his intention to upset you or bring up the argument; he had wanted to help distract you, but maybe you did need to get through this before you could move on with your night. 

Glancing at your phone as it lights up again with another text message from Soonyoung, you shrug hearing Jihoon’s phone go off a moment later. 

“It’s just really funny to me that he can ignore me all day and then act like I am supposed to be at his beck and call.” You swallow back your tears as you look down at your hands, pushing the ring on your index finger around so that the stone is facing your palm. “I love him, Jihoon, but right now I can’t stand him. I feel like I don’t know who he is anymore. I don’t know the person I talked to this morning.” 

Jihoon fights the urge to look at his phone, feeling it go off again in his jacket pocket. Instead,  he listens to you intently as he sees the tears rising in your eyes. His eyes fall to the ring on your finger and he remembers helping Soonyoung pick it out before he left for Tokyo and how he had suggested the cut of the stone. 

Swallowing hard, Jihoon shifts on the couch to face you. He keeps his hands to himself, trying to be as respectful as possible, although all he wants to do is offer you more comfort when he sees the first tear trail down your cheek. 

“Look, I could go the best friend route and give you the excuses but I’m not going to do it. I know he’s busy but I’m also not there.” Meeting your eyes, Jihoon tightens his hand on his knee, listening to you sniffle back your tears as he tilts his head. “I know he cares about you, he told me today. If I could make this better, Y/N, I would.” 

Those weren’t the exact words that Jihoon had meant to use, but those were the words that had come out of his mouth. They weren’t a lie, because if there was a way that he could make it better for you, he would. If there was a way that Jihoon could make you happy, he would. Seeing you cry and upset was breaking his heart in ways that he couldn’t even explain or justify. 

You can’t help but let out an unamused laugh under your breath at Jihoon's words. not for everything, because you knew he was trying to help, but you couldn't help but be cynical about the whole situation. Fingers wrapping around yours as tears drip from your cheeks is what breaks you and you finally meet Jihoon’s eyes once again. 

“Nothing can make this better. I’m completely alone.” 

Holding your hand tighter, Jihoon sighs, sliding even closer to you before lifting your hand to show yours in his as he shakes his head. 

“You aren’t. I’m right here.” 

Your eyes slowly move over his fingers, delicately holding yours, and more tears fall from your eyes as you try to work through how it makes you feel. It’s overwhelming to have someone right beside you, their skin against yours, their eyes on you. The feeling makes you want more and you feel selfish but it’s a moment of weakness. 

Sliding on the couch, you move against Jihoon so that your cheek ends up against his chest. A surprised breath escapes from his lips before he finally moves to wrap his arms around you, holding you to him like you want him to. He can feel the tears starting to soak through his shirt but he can’t seem to find a reason to care as your fingers cling to his jacket and you sob quietly. 

Jihoon had hugged you before, but this was more than a hug. This was almost intimate as the moments passed and you started to calm down, only to stay in his arms even as he shifted to lay down on the couch, letting you rest on top of him. 

Lifting a shaky hand, Jihoon carefully ran it over your head, listening to you whine softly and he wondered if you had fallen asleep. He knew he had overstayed his welcome and he knew he should leave but that would mean he would have to tell you to move and that would mean he wouldn’t have you in his arms. He was selfish. What would Soonyoung do if he walked in the door right now? 

Pushing the thought of his best friend from his mind, Jihoon closes his eyes when you shift against him and you mutter his name, wrapping your fingers around his shirt and holding him to you. Your lips smack cutely and a soft snore tells Jihoon that you have in fact fallen asleep. Any plan to wake you at that point leaves him with the sound of his name on your tired lips. 

By the time you wake up Jihoon is gone and you have been placed in your bed. Furrowing your brows, you look around your dark room, confused, before glancing towards your nightstand to see where your phone is plugged up. He had done so much while you slept and not even woke you to say goodbye. 

Picking up your phone, you wince at the brightness of the screen, only to frown at the number of missed calls and text messages from Soonyoung. You were starting to feel bad for ignoring him the entire day and it didn’t help that you were missing his voice. You start to click on his name to read over the messages when two from Jihoon make you pause and check them first. 

Jihoon: I hope you don’t get upset that I put you in your bed. The couch is comfortable but your bed looked better

Jihoon: I’m sorry if I overstepped tonight. Just can’t let you cry like that

Furrowing your brows, you swallow hard, thinking back to how it felt to be held and how safe you felt— even for just a little while. 

Y/N: You don’t have anything to apologize for. Thank you for dealing with my bullshit. Sleep well, Hoonie

You wait for a moment, hoping that Jihoon will write you back, but it was asking a lot for him to be awake at 1:26 am. Soonyoung, on the other hand, would be well into his work day. Scrolling over to the clock you have set for his timezone, you let out a slow exhale, reading 5:26 pm, before checking your messages from him. 

Soonyoung ❣️: I love you so much

Soonyoung ❣️: Please don’t ignore me

Soonyoung ❣️: I’m going to work but I’ll keep my phone ringer on

Soonyoung ❣️: Could you please answer your phone

Soonyoung ❣️: Don’t you think this is a little childish?

Soonyoung ❣️: I’m sorry. Did Jihoon bring over some food?

Soonyoung ❣️: I’m assuming you fell asleep. Really fucking wish you would have talked to me today. Don’t really think I deserved the silent treatment. It hurts, Y/N…

His messages had ranged from hurt to angry and everything in between, and now you were feeling the same as tears gathered in your eyes once again. Two of his messages, in particular, sticking out and making your heart tighten to the point where your stomach felt queasy. ‘Don’t you think this is a little childish?’ and ‘It hurts, Y/N…’ He had no idea how much it hurt you. 

Wiping your cheeks, you tap his name on your phone with more force than is necessary, putting it to your ear as you pull your knees towards your stomach. It only takes two rings before Soonyoung picks up, sounding out of breath. 

“Hello?” 

In truth, Soonyoung had started to give up hope that you were going to call him but he hadn’t lied when he told you that he kept his ringer on. Hearing it ring, he had immediately sent everyone on a five minute break and answered you, leaning over to rest his free hand on his thigh, trying to catch his breath. 

“Hi.” 

He had hoped for more than that but he’d take what he could get right now. Your voice brings a smile to his face as Soonyoung reaches for his water bottle, taking a sip. Sliding down the mirrored wall, he leans his head back against it and sighs into the phone, finally feeling a bit less stressed. 

“I’m glad you called, babe. I can’t stay on the phone long, but I’d like to —” 

“It’s whatever…” 

Taking a deep breath at your interruption, Soonyoung closes his eyes because he can hear the tears in your voice. 

“I mean, no, it’s not. If you’d let me finish? Fuck, Y/N… First, you ignored me all damn day and now I can’t —” 

Biting his bottom lip, Soonyoung stops himself hearing you take a sharp breath. He had started to go off on you but he knew it was because he was wound up. Yes he was upset at you but now wasn’t the time to fight. 

“Baby…I was going to say that even though I can’t talk long right now, I’d like to talk soon. I wanna really talk. Maybe we could facetime? I wanna see your pretty face.” 

Soonyoung was giving you whiplash and it was almost too much to handle. You loved him so much but it was hard to go from one extreme to another with no way to touch him or to have his arms around you. 

“I’m just really tired, Soonie. Can I just go to bed?” 

You weren’t lying. You were exhausted mentally, emotionally, and physically. His words were like rocks being added to a growing pile in your arms, pushing you deeper and deeper into a pit that you weren’t sure how to climb out of. 

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Soonyoung knocks his head back against the mirror at your request while you also leave his question up in the air. He wasn’t sure how late it was for you but he had to assume it was late and he could hear the exhaustion and emotion in your voice. 

“Yeah…course, babe. I love you.” 

Looking out into your moonlit room, you find yourself staring at the picture of you and Soonyoung on your dresser with little to no emotion as you speak before hanging up your phone. 

“Love you too, bye.” 

Soonyoung had heard you say that you loved him hundreds, possibly thousands, of times over the span of your relationship and he had never heard it sound like that. He had never heard it said in such a way that it almost broke his heart. Letting out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding, Soonyoung looks up when the pretty girl speaks to him again, a concerned look on her face. 

“You ok, Soonyoung?” 

Nodding, he puts on a smile and moves to his feet, causing her to take a step back to watch him as he puts his phone on silent. 

“Course I am, Aimi. Once everyone is back, we can run it from the chorus again.” 

Aimi grins at Soonyoung and his smile becomes genuine as he watches her take a step backwards on the wood floor. 

“‘Kay…hey, you wanna get drinks later?” 

When Soonyoung looks confused, Aimi laughs and lifts her hands, biting at her pretty lips that he can’t help but look at. 

“With me and a few of the dance team, of course.” 

Shrugging, Soonyoung glances down at his phone, tossing it up in the air and catching it before putting it on the table next to his water bottle. What could it hurt? Drinks with a few of his students, especially when the view would be nice for just a little while. Offering Aimi a grin, Sonyoung nods before leaning to pick up a towel and putting it around his neck as he watches him carefully, her eyes carefully moving over his exposed arms before moving back to his face. 

“Sure, sounds like fun.” 

“She just doesn’t answer my calls much anymore. I dunno what the fuck I’m supposed to do, man.” 

Soonyoung sighs, using his shoulder to keep his phone against his ear as he pulls his jacket from the closet, causing the unused hangers to clang together. On the other side of the phone, Jihoon leans back in his chair, rocking his head side to side to move his blond bangs out of his eyes. He lets out a breath as he pushes his mouse across his computer screen and dragging levels up and down in the music editing program by eye and muscle memory. 

“I don’t know. It’s not my place to —” 

“Couldn’t you just... I dunno, talk to her? Get her to listen to reason? You are so good at that.” 

Leaning his head back, Jihoon rolls his eyes as he pushes the mouse away from him out of annoyance. This wasn’t his job and he didn’t want to lie to you or tell you that it would all get better when clearly there was something going on that he couldn’t fix. 

“I’m not a fucking relationship therapist, Soonyoung.” 

Swallowing hard, Soonyoung stops just outside of his temporary apartment, hearing the anger in Jihoon’s voice. That hadn’t been the intention; he just wanted someone at bat for him, someone at home, to be in his corner for once. 

“I’m sorry, man... I’m not saying that. You’ve been nothing but helpful. You know, taking Y/N meals and watching out for her... I really appreciate it.” 

All of the things that Soonyoung was bringing up were things that Jihoon was happy to do for you. Maybe at first they were a little tedious but as time had gone by, days had turned to weeks, and weeks now to months—they were part of his life as much as you were. 

“It’s fine. Uh… Look, okay? I’ll try to talk to Y/N and see if I can get her to give you a call when I take her something to eat tonight.” 

The sounds of traffic make Soonyoung wonder if he had heard Jihoon wrong but he knew he hadn’t. Rubbing his lips together, Soonyoung nods as he furrows his brows, a bit of strain evident in his voice. 

“You’re gonna take her something to eat again tonight? Is that like, a common thing now? I just—yeah, I dunno, I figured it was every once in a while.” 

Shifting in his chair, Jihoon feels the apprehension in Soonyoung’s words. He knew that he should feel bad for how often he was spending time at your place but after holding you as you cried yourself to sleep, Jihoon couldn’t. 

“It’s pretty often. She’s lonely, Soonyoung. You are on the other side of the world. You’re the one who asked me to do it in the first place.” 

Soonyoung could feel the way his stomach was twisting with jealousy and something else he couldn’t quite name. Jihoon wasn’t wrong; he had asked him to do it, but he didn’t think he would be spending so many evenings hanging out with his girlfriend. He also didn’t really need his best friend to remind him of the distance between him and his girlfriend. The distance was very apparent and it was eating him alive. 

“Yeah, I know I did. I don’t need you to tell me how lonely she is. I’m fucking lonely too.” With his feet hitting the steps to the studio hard as he pouts into his words, “I wish I was at home. I wish I had never fuckin’ taken this job.” 

Running his fingers over his hair, Jihoon can’t help the way Soonyoung’s words hit him and made him feel bad for a split second. He couldn’t really understand the pain that his friend was feeling but it was obvious that he was suffering. Being with you almost every day, Jihoon saw your pain but today was the first time he had really heard Soonyoung’s, and even so, it didn’t make up for your tears. 

“Then maybe you should fucking tell her that.” 

You were pouting into your pint of ice cream as Jihoon watched you, finishing the last of his pasta. He had already tried to give you the “but Soonyoung just wants to talk to you; maybe you should call him tonight” talk and now you were being quiet. It wasn’t like you hadn’t sent Soonyoung texts throughout the day; you just hadn’t answered his phone calls or made any special effort to call him like you normally would. 

“The ice cream was meant to cheer you up.” 

Lifting your eyes to Jihoon, you stab your spoon into your softening ice cream, making him wince at the sudden action. Clearly, you were upset at him, though he wasn’t sure that was entirely fair. He had just done what Soonyoung had asked of him and now it was biting him in the ass. 

Sighing, Jihoon puts his plate down on the coffee table before leaning forward to lift his hands as if to say he is surrendering. This wasn’t how he wanted to spend the evening with you. He enjoyed the evenings when the two of you would sit close on the couch. You’d turn on one of your silly trash reality shows and he’d let you try to explain who was fucking who and who was cheating on who. In reality, he was just enjoying your company—more than he should. 

“I’m sorry. I promised Soonyoung that I would try to put in a good word for him, but I can’t stand the idea that you might spoon me to death like your ice cream.” 

You wanted to stay mad at Jihoon, but he made it difficult. You had started to trust him not to just take Soonyoung’s side because he was asked to but clearly everyone had their limit. It was already asking a lot of Jihoon to keep you company like he was, so adding ‘taking your side in the arguments’ was asking maybe too much. 

“I don’t wanna talk to him right now, Jihoon. He has said something to me that I never thought—” Shaking your head, you pull your spoon free from your ice cream with a bit of a sad laugh. “It doesn’t matter. It’s not your fault. You’ve kept me sane.” 

Your words go right to Jihoon’s heart, causing him to have to look away in fear of how he might react. That was a big role to take in your life and he knew that when it came to you, he was taking it seriously. Jihoon knew he should feel bad for how he started to feel about you but as long as he kept those feelings to himself, they wouldn’t matter. 

“Uh—well I… You shouldn’t have to go through all this shit alone. I got tired of seeing you so lonely.” 

Furrowing your brows, you watch Jihoon speak and how he looks down at his hands. You had known him for a long time, but over the past few months, you had gotten to know him almost as well as you knew Soonyoung. There were tells in his mannerisms and it was almost like playing poker with him. You could tell when he wasn’t telling you everything. 

“I am lonely, Hoonie. You have helped me through a lot.” Sighing, you lean towards the coffee table to put your ice cream down before looking back over to Jihoon to meet his cautious eyes. “The food is nice but just having you here has been the best. Like last night, I really needed that.” 

You watch as Jihoon lifts his hand to run his fingers over his hair with a long sigh. Something was on his mind but he just wasn’t saying it. Tilting your head, you scoot closer to him and Jihoon laughs under his breath before you hear what sounds like a curse. Did he not want you to be close to him anymore? 

“I–I’m happy to help, Y/N. Last night, you said I didn’t overstep, but — fuck…” 

Meeting your eyes, Jihoon’s words die on his tongue. He knows he can’t disappoint you. Not when you look so sad and vulnerable. Not when you are so fucking pretty and looking at him like he is a buoy in the middle of a vast ocean. You let out a soft whine and Jihoon’s eyes fell to your lips just once before he winced and leaned forward to brush his against yours, not wanting you to feel so alone. 

At first, you freeze when you feel Jihoon’s lips against yours. Your brain misfires because you know it’s not Soonyoung and you know that you should push Jihoon away but then you relax. You sigh into the kiss and return it, letting Jihoon’s tongue slide along your bottom lip. 

You arch against his body when you feel Jihoon’s hand grasp your waist as you lean your head into his hand as he cups your cheek with his other hand. Your tongue glides along his and you moan softly into his mouth before finally Jihoon pulls away with one last peck on your lips. 

With his eyes closed tightly, Jihoon rests his forehead against yours, cursing himself silently. If he had thought he had overstepped the night before, now he had looked at the line and flipped it off. His hand trembles against your side and Jihoon sits back, looking up at the ceiling as you look at him coming out of your haze. 

“Jihoon…I—” 

“It was me. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.” 

Jihoon starts to pull away from you and you feel your stomach twist in panic so quickly that you grab his shirt to stop him. When your eyes meet, Jihoon looks at you confusedly, but you just shake your head and bite at your lips, trying to think quickly. 

“But I…I liked it.” 

2:30 am 

Jihoon groaned, looking at his lock screen again, before putting his phone face down on his bed. He had been staring at his ceiling for hours at this point, thoughts racing through his mind. All he could see was you looking at him with that sweet look on your face as he kissed you again. 

“Fuck!” 

There was so much that was fucked up about the situation. He had gone over to your house to talk you into calling Soonyoung. Instead, he had ended up making out with you on your couch before kissing you goodnight at your front door. 

Now he was the one avoiding Soonyoung’s text messages. He didn’t know what he was going to say to him. 'Hey, yeah, talked to her. Kissed her and then kissed her again. You’re cool with that, right?’ He was sure that would go over well. 

Closing his eyes, Jihoon runs his hand over his face before resting it on his bare chest as he tries to calm himself down but once again his thoughts land on you. He thinks about your fingers clinging to his shirt and how you sounded moaning into his mouth. He thinks about how sweet you would sound if he were between your—

Arching his hips off the bed, Jihoon groans at his own thoughts, trying to stop them but the damage is done. He had willed himself not to get hard while he was at your place but now he could feel his cock stiffening against his thigh under his shorts. This was pathetic; he was pathetic. All it took was thinking about how you’d sound if he were between your legs and he was hard and starting to leak. 

Jihoon knew he could ignore his problem and eventually it would go away but it would take a while and he was already struggling to go to sleep. Smacking his hand against the bed, Jihoon lifts his hips, pushing his shorts down, before kicking them off under the sheet, letting his now throbbing cock rest back towards his abdomen. 

Sighing in annoyance, he rubs his palm in a circle over his head to collect some of his pre-cum causing himself to hiss and buck his hips. Jihoon hated that his first thought as he wrapped his hand around his shaft, stroking himself from base to tip, was your hand in place of his. It was so fucking wrong of him to think about you like this while he was doing this, but it was doing the trick. 

Muttering your name under his breath into a groan, Jihoon picks up speed with his hand as he lifts his hips towards his fist, fucking into it with even strokes. It felt good but it was nothing compared to what he imagined your pussy must feel like. 

Soonyoung wasn’t a shy person. He was a jealous person, but that only made him brag more and that meant that he would overshare. Jihoon was thinking about that now as he squeezed his cock under his head, remembering how Soonyoung told him that your pussy was the tightest he had ever had and how you got so wet that he had to lay down towels and use his tongue to clean you up. 

Warm, sticky cum hits Jihoon’s stomach and runs down his fingers as he groans out your name one more time before pushing his head back against his pillow. He was out of breath, his heart racing, and you were still running laps in his head as he thought about you licking him clean.

With one last stroke and whimpering groan, Jihoon knows he has nothing else to give. Fingers unwrap from his softening cock as he takes steady breaths, feeling sleep trying to take over him, for him to now fight it, knowing he has to get cleaned up. 

He hated himself for what he had just done, but god if it didn’t feel worth it for how hard that he had cum and how well he would sleep. 

“Of course I would be excited to see you, Soonyoung…” 

You sigh into your words as you lean your head against your driver’s side window. You had a headache; it had been a long day at work and all you wanted to do was get out of traffic and get home. You didn’t really want to be on the phone with Soonyoung as he made empty promises but that is where you found yourself; listening to empty promises and stuck in a traffic jam. 

“I think I can make it happen in a couple weeks, maybe three.” 

The ever changing Soonyoung timeline. Shaking your head, you hold your phone with one hand and the steering wheel with the other as traffic starts to move in front of you. 

“Sure…” 

“I’m serious, Y/N! Why don’t you ever believe me? I feel like I’m the only one trying to make this work anymore.” 

Frowning, you start to speak, feeling emotion rising in your chest, when suddenly you are launched forward and pain spreads through your chest. Soonyoung waits to hear you speak but instead he hears the sound of your surprised yelp and then the sound of car horns. 

“Baby?” When you don’t answer him at first, Soonyoung paces in front of the mirrored wall, running his fingers through his hair. “Y/N? Talk to me, baby!” 

Muffled voices and a ringing in your ears are all you can hear as you try to shake your head to push away the foggy feeling. Someone takes your arm as you try to move and you hear a man tell you that you shouldn’t move until someone makes sure you are okay first. 

“What happened?” 

You can hear yourself better than you can hear the man, until finally your ears seem to pop just as your vision starts to clear and you see your airbag against your chest. 

“Car came up too fast behind you and knocked the hell out of you. I was in front of you.” 

Leaning up to try to see the man’s vehicle in front of you, the man ushers you back down and shakes his head. 

“Just a little damage. I’m not worried about it all that much. Your car is fucked and so is his.” 

Wincing as you lean your head back, you can feel the burn from where your airbag and the seatbelt protected you from much worse. You try to turn your head to look for the other driver, hearing sirens, but instead just look for the man you had been talking to. 

“Is he okay?” 

Sighing, the man nods, giving you an annoyed look. 

“Probably the drunk ones always get hurt less, they say.” 

Holding his free hand over his ear, Soonyoung struggles to make out as much of your conversation with the unknown man as he can but the moment he realizes you have been in a car accident, he’s panicking. Swallowing hard, Soonyoung clenches his chest as he ends the call with you and grits his teeth, making the decision to call the only other person he knew could be there for you when he couldn’t. 

“Yeah?” 

Jihoon was almost nervous to pick up the phone after seeing Soonyoung’s name but he did it anyway. He had been avoiding his best friend most of the day except for the stray text here or there but this was the first phone call he had actually accepted. 

“Jihoon!” 

The panic in Soonyoung’s voice made Jihoon sit up straight, his heart rate speeding up, because his first thought was that something was wrong and it could only be you. 

“Ji...I–fuck! I was on the phone with Y/N and I don’t know where she is.” 

He could hear Soonyoung struggling with his words as he paced, unsure what to do. Jihoon’s first thought was, Fuck, I couldn’t imagine how hard this would be for him if something happened to you but then he could imagine it. He needed to know what was wrong and where you were.  

“Slow down and tell me what the fuck is going on.” 

Nodding, Soonyoung runs his hand over his mouth and takes a breath, trying to start over slower and calmer. 

“We were talking on the phone and she dropped it, I think. I heard something loud and then some dude was talking to her. He said something about an accident. I think she was in a wreck.” 

Looking at his watch, Jihoon stands up from his chair, grabbing his keys and jacket, keeping his phone to his ear as he pushes his studio door open. He knew he should probably tell the others where he was going but, fuck it, they could figure it out. 

“It’s 5:30; she was probably going home. Maybe she got stuck on the highway. I’ll find her and call you back.” 

Jihoon groans at the woman sitting at the front desk of the emergency room as she stares up at him like he has three heads. 

“Like I told you, if you aren’t a relative or a loved one, you can’t go back to see Miss Y/L/N. You can wait in the waiting area.” 

His hair was starting to come loose from his bun with the number of times he had shaken his head. Jihoon was getting more annoyed by the minute. Gritting his teeth, he puts his palms flat on the desk and gives the woman a strained smile before tilting his head. 

“I am a loved one. Y/N is my girlfriend. I’d really like to see her now.” 

After a few more minutes of narrowing eyes at one another, Jihoon found himself being led back to your triage room, where you were sitting on a bed in a hospital gown with a frown. You were honestly so cute that he couldn’t help but pull the smallest of smiles from his lips. However, seeing the cut on your lip and eyebrow and the bruise that was already spreading along your neck, the smile quickly faded. 

Nodding to the nurse, Jihoon moves towards your bed as the woman pulls the door shut, giving you and him more privacy. The moment your eyes meet, the tears fall over the rims of your eyes and Jihoon’s heart breaks. 

“Hey…What’s that about? Did they say you have to stay overnight or something?” 

Shaking your head, you reach out to take Jihoon’s wrist in yours, pulling him closer so that he will sit next to you on your bed. You find yourself just wanting to be close to him. 

“No. I can go home as soon as the doctor makes sure I didn’t break anything and gets me a script for some pain meds.” 

Furrowing his brows, Jihoon turns his hand over, letting you rest yours in his as he looks over your face even closer now. He could see where the bruises would be and where the hospital had cleaned up your cuts but there was still some dried blood. His stomach was in knots because it never should have happened. 

“So why are you crying? Talk to me…” 

“My car is fucked for one and I—” Your voice falls over into a small sob, causing Jihoon to lift his hand, his thumb gently caressing your cheek to push the tears away. “I’m scared and I don’t wanna be alone now. Soonyoung is—” 

You don’t finish the sentence but Jihoon knows how it finishes. Soonyoung is so far away. He had heard you say it many times but this time it went right to his gut. He almost hated Soonyoung for leaving you alone and letting something like this happen to you, even though it wasn’t his fault and he had no way of preventing it whether he was here or not. 

“One thing at a time, Y/N. Come here…” 

Shifting on your hospital bed, Jihoon sits beside you, letting you curl against his chest so you can rest against him. He can feel your tears soaking through his shirt but he doesn’t mind it. The only thing he cares about is who is in his arms and whether you are safe. 

“Let’s go through things one at a time. Your car. I know you have insurance. We will call tomorrow and make sure it’s being taken care of. I can get you to and from work.” 

You start to complain but Jihoon just holds you tighter, making you sob softly against him before you nod. 

“And being alone...” 

You hear him let out a breath as he thinks of what to say so you do it first as you run your fingers along his chest around a button. 

“Could you stay with me for a few days?” 

Closing his eyes, Jihoon swallows hard as he leans his head back against the wall. He knew he should say no and that you should ask one of your girlfriends but he hates the idea of disappointing you. 

“Yeah…I can do that, honey.” 

“She’s banged up but she’s gonna be alright. They got her some pain meds and she’s out of work the rest of the week to rest.” 

Soonyoung furrowed his brows to Jihoon’s words. He could tell the man was whispering but he didn’t really know why… Was he still with you? Looking down at his phone, he tried to do the math in his head but it didn’t make sense. If it was 5:30 pm for him, that would mean it was at least after midnight for you, if not later. 

“Thanks for letting me know. Wish I was there… hate the idea of her being alone right now.” 

Sighing, Jihoon looks at you in your bed as he leans back in the armchair before shaking his head at Soonyoung’s words. He wasn’t sure how to work around what the man had just said to him. He wasn’t an idiot but he didn’t want to cause a fight. 

"Yeah, I don’t like it either but what is anyone going to do about it, Soonyoung? I told her that until her car is out of the shop, I’ll take her to and from work. That’s one less thing for her to worry about right now.” 

Maybe he was letting his imagination get the best of him. That was it. He had always been a jealous man when it came to you and there was no reason for him to be worried when it came to you and Jihoon. Nodding along with his best friend’s words, Soonyoung offers a smile to Aimi as she gestures for him to hurry up as she and a few of the other students wait by the door of the studio. 

“Thank you for doing that, Ji. I’ll try to call her later, after she’s got some rest. I owe you big time.” 

That was an understatement, is all Jihoon could think as he heard the sounds of a girl giggling just as Soonyoung hung up the phone call. Of course, it could be nothing but there was no way to know. 

Moving his eyes back over to you as your hands rested under your cheek, Jihoon tilted his head and started to stand up, intent on going to the couch, when you whispered his name. At first, he thinks you are just dreaming but then you sit up and look at him, making him stop in the doorway. 

“Hey, you okay? You need something to drink? More pain meds?” 

Shaking your head, you reach out your hand towards him and Jihoon’s heart beats hard in his chest at the implications of what you were asking of him. 

“Stay? Don’t wanna be alone.” 

Your voice is so tired and small. Jihoon closes his eyes for a brief moment before nodding and moving towards the bed to crawl in behind you, laying a good distance away. He thinks you’ll be satisfied to have him just anywhere close to you but then you turn over and lay your head on his chest, wrapping your arm over him so that you can pull your body in close to his. 

“This okay, Hoonie?” 

Running his free hand through his now loose, long blond hair, Jihoon wants to tell you no and that you need to lay away from him but everything about that is a lie. There was nothing more that he wanted. He hears you sigh happily when his hand under you shifts to run his fingers along your back, allowing you to curl even tighter against him, your leg pulling to rest against his thigh. 

“Yeah, it’s okay, honey.” 

You smile at the pet name. It wasn’t something that Jihoon had called you much about or ever before, but you were enjoying it. It made your stomach feel warm and your heart feel fluttery. Nuzzling your cheek against his chest, you spread your fingers out along his abs and close them to scratch at his skin through his thin shirt with a sigh. 

“I like that…that name.” 

If anything, Jihoon knew he was crossing a line with it, but fuck, look at where he was and look at where you were. The line was 300 miles back and he was waving at it in the distance at this point. 

“I like it too. I like it too much.” 

Shaking your head, you glance up at Jihoon with a pout on your lips as he meets your eyes in the dim, moonlit room. You could see the apprehension on his face and you knew why it was there but as much as you knew you should feel guilty, he was the one here and he was the one taking care of you. 

Reaching up with your hand, you hold his chin in place so you can lean up to press your lips against his, granting you a soft groan from his. Jihoon’s brows furrow, and his fingers scratch lightly against your lower back right over your ass before he gasps for a breath, pulling away from you. 

“Y/N…” 

“I want you, Jihoon.”

Jihoon had felt bad about not giving in to you after you had confessed that you wanted him. It wasn’t that he didn’t want you. God, if anything, he wanted you too much and that was what was killing him. You had pouted for a few minutes but then accepted his excuse that it was too fast and too soon after your accident before you fell asleep in his arms. 

The sun was starting to rise and he knew he would have to leave you, at least for a few hours today. He would need to go into the recording studio and at least explain his sudden disappearance and work for a couple hours, but god, did you make it hard to leave you. 

Running his fingers over your cheek as you nuzzle against his chest, Jihoon can’t help but smile as you smack your lips in your sleep. You are so cute that it is almost physically painful for him to look at you and not act on the whims that he feels. He wants to kiss you, put your back against the bed and show you how he would spoil you in bed. Instead, Jihoon just watches you sleep for a few minutes longer before he tries to slide his arm from under your body, only to feel your fingers tighten in the front of his t-shirt holding him to you. 

“Hoonie…don’t leave.” 

Your voice almost breaks his heart because he didn’t want to leave you but he had to. Sighing, Jihoon brushes your hair back, leaning to press his lips against yours, feeling you smile against his. With that, he’s able to maneuver his arm out, only for you to whimper against his lips and tug him back against you. 

“Honey…I have to go take a shower and get to work. I won’t be gone all day, I promise.” 

Looking down at you, Jihoon frowns at the darkening spot near your eye and lip. His eyes move down to where your tank top does nothing to hide your largest bruise on your shoulder and collarbone from where your seatbelt had been sitting. 

“I’m gonna miss you. Can’t you just stay?” 

Shaking his head, Jihoon leans to kiss your eyebrow lightly, then your split lip, before leaning to kiss your neck and collarbone, making you moan. It wasn’t his intention to turn you on; instead, he was just trying to kiss your wounds better but you couldn’t help but lace your fingers through his long hair, holding him to you. 

Groaning as he feels your heel run along his thigh, Jihoon takes a breath against your neck, trying to keep his head. It had been a long time since he had been with anyone and he never thought the next person would be his best friend’s girl, but here you were with your hands in his hair and your body pressed against his. 

“Jihoon…” 

His name on your lips is like a siren’s call and Jihoon’s resolve breaks. Meeting your eyes, his lips press against yours hard, only for you to whimper at the slight pain of your split lip. He pulls back, realizing that his kiss is gentle and tender as his tongue dances with yours. You feel his hand slide from your waist to your hip so that his fingers can press into the top of your shorts, making you arch off the bed, wanting him to take them off. 

“I can’t give you everything right now. I really do have to go in for a while today, but I’ll give you something, okay, honey?” 

Nodding, you whine out his name as Jihoon pulls back from you. His eyes move over your face and down your body as his fingers press into the top of your shorts, pulling them down your legs with trembling hands. The line was thousands of miles behind him now; he couldn’t even see it. All he could see was you. All Jihoon could hear was his name on your lips as he dropped your shorts on the bed next to him and you spread your legs for him.

Jihoon lets out a shaky breath and it dawns on him that there is no one else who matters who isn’t in this room. It’s just you and him. His eyes move from your face, down your body, and finally between your legs, where his mouth starts to water at the sight of you. Your perfect folds are spread to reveal just how wet your pussy has gotten for him. Not for Soonyoung, but for him. 

“Fuck…gonna eat you out, is that okay?” 

It had been so long since you had been touched, so having someone look at you the way Jihoon did was almost overwhelming. You felt like you could cum untouched by just the feeling of his eyes but then his question and what he wanted to do to you had you clenching around nothing. Whining, you nod, scooting your hips further down in the bed as Jihoon moves between your legs, leaning to press kisses to your soft thighs, waiting for your verbal answer.

“Yeah, please? God, please, Hoonie?” 

It wouldn’t take much convincing for Jihoon to give you what you wanted. With one hand wrapped around your hip, he uses his other to part your folds so he can see all of you. Letting out a groan to the sight, Jihoon glanced up the length of your body before shaking his head and spitting on to your clit before latching on to it with his mouth. 

Soonyoung was great at everything in bed but this was different. You hadn’t been with too many people before you met Soonyoung and up until this moment, you had been faithful to him, but there was something about Lee Jihoon between your legs that had tears already streaming down your face. The groans and grunts let out against your pussy were almost animalistic as he ground his face against you, fucking you with his tongue. 

Your fingers grip Jihoon’s hair, tugging at the long locks holding him closer between your legs as you feel the pressure building in your lower abdomen. It’s only when you are unable to hold it back anymore that you cry out his name and roll your hips hard against his face, cumming onto his tongue and chin. 

Jihoon groans quietly against your warm, wet folds as he laps at your cum, enjoying every last drop. His fingers lazily massage your folds, causing your thighs to jerk and for him to smile against your pussy until you whine his name as if asking for mercy. 

Licking his lips clean of you, Jihoon moves up between your legs to rest over you, kissing you gently and letting you taste yourself on his tongue. He basks in the sounds of your moans as your fingers grip and almost tear at his shirt, wanting more but he had already told you he couldn’t give you everything just yet. Nudging his nose against yours, Jihoon smiles against your lips before pulling away as you almost sob his name but he knows this time it’s just a ploy to keep him in your bed. 

“I told you, honey, I gotta shower and get to work. I’ll pick up food tonight and we can cuddle when I get back.”

Turning on your side, you take a deep breath, feeling exhausted as you watch Jihoon walk towards your en suite, his fingers running through his long blonde hair. You knew you should feel guilty and maybe you did deep down but you had needs and right now, as your thighs ached from your legs being spread apart as he ate you out like his last meal, you couldn’t feel a single drop of guilt. 

You wake up to the sound of your phone, causing your brows to furrow in annoyance. You had been sleeping so well but still, your fingers reach out for your phone, bringing it to your ear as you answer it with a sleepy voice. 

“Hello? Jihoon?” 

Furrowing his brows, Soonyoung tries not to take too much offense to how you answer the phone because he can tell you were asleep and he can tell you aren’t yourself. Jihoon had told him that you were on some pretty strong pain medications, so maybe that was clouding your judgment. 

“No, baby, it’s me, Soonie.” 

You smile softly, feeling a warmth rush over you upon hearing Soonyoung’s voice. There was a conflicting feeling underlying it but on the surface, you were happy to hear from him. You missed him despite everything and you loved him. 

“Hi, Soonie.” 

That was more like it, you seemed more like yourself. Maybe a bit of a drunk version of yourself but still, you seemed happy to hear from him and that Soonyoung could handle. 

“Hey, baby. How are you feeling?” 

Whining as you turn over on your back, you put your hand on your shoulder, feeling the stretch in your arm, making Soonyoung hear you in pain. He knew if he could be on a plane and back with you in that moment, he would be, but it was literally impossible. 

“I’m fine. Just hurts a bit. I could probably go back to work earlier than the doctor said.” 

Shaking his head, Soonyoung punches in the code to his building as he rests his phone on his shoulder, letting his foot catch the door so he can get his stuff inside.

“No, baby… listen to what the doctor said. If you need more time to heal and rest, take it.” 

Pouting, you sit up in bed, looking around for Jihoon, remembering he had left for work long before. Nodding to Soonyoung’s words, you just sigh and give in to your current predicament. 

“I guess so. Maybe they will have the car fixed before Monday. I hate the idea of Hoonie driving me around.” 

Hoonie, it wasn’t like that was the first time he had heard you call his best friend that but for some reason this time it made his hair stand on end and his mouth go dry. Nodding, Soonyoung puts his groceries down hard on the counter, making you jump in your bed with a wince as you hear him sigh loudly. 

“You okay, Soonyoung?” 

Rolling his eyes, Soonyoung takes out one of his beers and pops it open, taking a sip as he leans against the counter, tilting his head as he looks at the label with narrowed eyes. 

“Course I am, babe. Get some rest. I love you.” 

Soonyoung doesn’t give you much time to respond before the sound of a phone call ending goes off in your ear and you are left with his picture staring back in your face. Furrowing your brows, you reach for your bottle of water that Jihoon had left and your bottle of pills, taking another one before settling back into your covers and trying to relax once again. 

Looking at his phone, Soonyoung runs his thumb along his contacts before he lands on Aimi and puts it to his ear, a small smirk pulling at the corner of his lips when he hears her pick up. 

“Hey, no, yeah... I’m fine. Just wanted to see if you wanted to come over and hang out.” 

Jihoon tried to be quiet while moving through your front door, but smelling food cooking as soon as he walked in made him realize there was no point in trying. Following his nose, he smiled while watching you stand in front of the stove in fresh clothes, humming along to something playing on your phone. If you had heard him come in, you weren’t letting him in on it. 

Sliding his hands around your waist, Jihoon laughs when you jump, dropping your spoon into your soup with a small splash of liquid that both of you are barely able to miss as it hits the floor. Jihoon whispers apologies against your ear before leaning to kiss your neck as you calm down and pout at him before he pulls away to get a paper towel to clean up. 

“I didn’t mean to scare you. I thought you would have heard me come in.” 

Shaking your head, you look down in your soup for the lost spoon before Jihoon moves back to your side, dipping his fingers in and pulling it out with a small hiss to the heat, letting you take it from him. 

“I didn’t, but I’m glad you are home.” 

Home. What a loaded word. This wasn’t his home but you made him wish it was. Everywhere he looked, he was reminded it wasn’t his home as Soonyoung smiled at him from the fridge and the walls, but he was getting pretty good at ignoring him. 

Sliding his hand along your hip, Jihoon takes a deep breath of the steam coming off the soup, nodding appreciatively as you look up at his content. This was the happiest you had been all day since before he left you for work. It was the most coherent you had been as well. You barely remembered your phone call with Soonyoung and you hadn’t received any text messages from him so you knew he was asleep or something. It didn’t matter. 

“Can you get down a couple bowls and we can eat on the couch? We have some trash TV to catch up on.” 

This was the perfect way to spend an evening and how Jihoon wished he could spend every single evening. He didn’t need to worry about rushing off. His stomach was full of food that you had made for him and now you were lying in his arms as the TV played one of your silly shows that you cared too much about.

Fingers lightly strum over Jihoon’s chest as you smile, listening to his heartbeat more than you listen to the arguments or gossip on the show. You find yourself enjoying the feeling of Jihoon’s hand cupping your hip and his thumb resting under your shirt above your shorts more than you do anything else. You never want the night to end or maybe it is more than that, something deeper but it’s nothing that you can talk about out loud just yet.  

When your eyes meet Jihoon's, he smiles at you and you feel like you are melting on the spot because it's been so long since someone has looked at you like that. Since someone has really looked at you, you feel like you could get lost in his eyes as his fingers lightly move across your cheek and down your jaw before he leans in to press his lips to yours, and you melt all over again. There’s something there that is unspoken and it will remain unspoken for the sake of everyone involved. You just kiss and give into it. 

Jihoon groans when he finally moves you to your bed and has you sitting on his lap. He whines into your mouth, feeling the weight of you over his hard cock. He wants to tell you that maybe this is too much or too fast but what about if this is too much or too fast? What about this? Is it even right? He knows it and he knows what you do too, so instead he just gives into it. 

Clothes find their way into the floor until your skin is naked against Jihoon and his fingers can finally move over your soft skin like he has always wanted to. He feels dirty and like this isn’t his—because it isn't—and yet something whispers in his ear that you are his. Right now, at this moment, you are his. 

“Please?” 

One word falls from your lips and Jihoon will give you the world; he will bring down the moon and the stars for you to make it better. Resting on your back, you cling to Jihoon, his hair falling from his bun as he looks down at you, his right hand sliding along your inner thigh, working its way towards your warm center. Two fingers slide between your wet folds and Jihoon’s lips fall open in the same way yours do as he works his fingers into your pussy, feeling your warm walls clench around them. 

He remembers in that moment Soonyoung bragging to him about how tight and messy you are and he can’t help but smirk to himself that he is getting to know that firsthand. Groaning against his arm, Jihoon can barely move his fingers inside of you, searching for that one spot that will make you scream his name but when he finds it, you arch off the bed and Jihoon almost cums on the spot, untouched by the sight of you and the sounds that come out of your mouth. 

Your velvet walls tremble around his fingers as he pumps them in and out of you at almost a brutal pace, trying to get you ready for his cock without even thinking about anything else. All Jihoon can think about is your wet slick seeping around his fingers and how it is running down  his wrist with each deep thrust of his fingers. He is just thinking about how good it will feel on his cock and how sweet you will sound as he’s pushing you into the mattress that you share with Soonyoung. 

Shaking his head to push Soonyoung out of it, Jihoon groans your name as your nails scratch his chest and along his neck, pulling him down to meet your lips when you cum. He groans loudly, feeling his fingers being sucked back into you with each wave of your orgasm, making it almost impossible for him to pull away from you until you finally relax and your thighs stop shaking. 

Smiling, Jihoon presses kisses on your cheek and along your neck before looking up at you to meet your eyes as he slips his fingers from your dripping center. You watch as he brings them to his lips and sucks each one of them clean with a small groan, making you whine under him. 

“Hoonie, please, I need you.” 

“Yeah? I won’t make you wait, honey.” 

Leaning over you, Jihoon opens the nightstand he knows to be Soonyoung and groans when he only finds an empty box of condoms before resting his head on his bicep. 

“Baby, do you have condoms on your side?” 

Swallowing hard, you shake your head already, knowing you don’t. Dread feels you knowing that if you don’t say something, he won’t fuck you like you want him to. Lifting your hand, you cling to Jihoon’s arm and whine as sweetly as you can, making him look down at you as you look up at him through lowered lashes. 

“I don't, but I’m on birth control, Jihoon. That’s why we don’t have anything here. Just fuck me, please?” 

Jihoon knew he should say no and wait until he could pick something up but that look in your eyes and the sweet tone of your voice were killing him. You hadn’t been with anyone else besides Soonyoung in years and he knew he hadn’t been with anyone in months, maybe closer to a year. Groaning, Jihoon rests his forehead against your shoulder before nodding, making you smile as you run your fingers through his hair. 

Learning from you, Jihoon pushes down his boxers, kicking off the last remaining piece of clothing, keeping him separated from you as your eyes follow him. Swallowing hard, you watch as he strokes himself a few times before he meets your eyes as if looking for permission once again, only for you to nod and slide your leg up and off to the side, letting him move back between your thighs. 

Running his thumb over your clit first, Jihoon watches how your body jerks, making him smirk before he follows that same action with the head of his cock. His brows furrowed as he made a pass with his tip between your folds to collect some of your arousal before finally meeting your eyes as he pushed into you for the first time, slow and steady. 

You had been used to the feeling of Soonyoung stretching you out so the feeling of Jihoon was completely different. Soonyoung was longer, whereas Jihoon had girth and it was almost painful as he sank into you, making you see white for a moment. A moan gets caught in your throat when Jihoon bottoms out and he stays where he is, catching his breath as you clench around him, making it impossible for him to move at first. 

“Oh…shit. Y/N, you gotta relax. Relax for me, honey.” 

Nodding, you do your best to listen to Jihoon’s voice and let your body relax as his fingers stroke the side of your face into your hair. You smile at the feeling of his lips pressing against your throat, feeling his smile against your skin when you do as he asked you to. 

“That’s it. Such a good girl. Can I move?” 

Whining out a yes, you nod and scratch at Jihoon’s back as he starts to thrust slowly but deeply, making you cry once again. Tears of pleasure begin to stream down your face and over Jihoon’s thumb, causing him to look up in concern until he sees the blissed out look on your face. 

Wiping the tears from your face, Jihoon groans your name, picking up his pace and listening to you cry out his name as you tighten around him once again. He didn’t need you to tell him that you were close. He could feel it as your orgasm started to rip through you. The way you got impossibly wetter and how you clamped down on him and held him inside of you like a vice. 

Groaning your name, it soon turns into a hiss as he follows you over that edge in a panic, trying to pull out only to have you cling to him with tears in your eyes, begging him to stay. Nodding, Jihoon relaxes, and his cum fills you with each deep thrust, making you throw your head back with a moan of his name. 

Collapsing on top of you, Jihoon struggles to catch his breath for a moment as sweat rolls along his neck and down his chest to your skin. Licking your lips, you run your fingers through his hair and over his back as you come down from your high, feeling like you have been to the moon and back. 

“Fuck…” 

A smile pulls at your lips as Jihoon curses against your neck. After a few moments, he rolls over to your side, pulling from you carefully, before resting his forearm over his eyes, still catching his breath as if he had just run a mile. Shaking your head, you can’t help but admire the man beside you in your bed under the moonlight, as if he is a piece of art, as with each of his breaths, his muscles expand and contract, showing off all his hard work spent in the gym. 

“Thank you, Jihoon. I really needed that.” 

Laughing, Jihoon just shakes his head, moving his arm to look at you before laughing again and pulling you into his arms to kiss you softly, making you smile. 

“Why are you thanking me for fucking you?” 

Shrugging you, run your finger nails along his abs, making him suck in on a breath as he leans his head back against the pillows. 

“What else am I supposed to say?” 

Shaking his head, Jihoon runs his fingers over your back and furrows his brows, realizing he isn’t even sure what the right answer to that question is. It isn’t that you love him or that he loves you, not even if it were true. So perhaps your response was appropriate for the time. Sighing, he looks up at the ceiling, staying quiet for a moment before lightly patting your back. 

“I don’t know, but I do know we need a shower. We smell like sex.” 

Laughing, you watch Jihoon slide out of your bed and around towards the ensuite, where the water for the shower starts to run. 

“Such a romantic, Lee Jihoon.” 

Grinning, Jihoon leans against the bathroom counter, looking at himself in the mirror as the room starts to fill with steam and he waits for you to join him. 

“Yeah, I know I am, honey.” 

Staring at your phone, you run your thumb over Soonyoung’s face as you think about what happened between you and Jihoon. The guilt had started to weigh heavily on you. That wasn’t who you were. You had always been faithful to Soonyoung because that’s the type of person he and you were. 

Pressing your thumb down over his name, you put the phone to your ear and sigh. You knew it was pretty early in Tokyo. It was after 5 pm for you and Jihoon would be coming back home soon so that would mean Soonyoung was probably getting ready to leave for work. What you didn’t expect was someone else to pick up his phone. 

“Hello?” 

A sweet female’s voice greets your ear and you feel like the walls that have been stable around you are crashing down around you. You hear her say hello again before you shake some sense into yourself and look at your hands, finally able to speak. 

“Uh hi… I was trying to reach Soonyoung.” 

The girl smiles into her words before giggling as she looks around his apartment, listening to the shower turn off. 

“Yeah, he’s here. He’s getting out of the showe—” 

“Hello?” 

Soonyoung had heard Aimi talking to someone and there were only a few people who would be calling him this early in the morning. Taking the phone out of her hand, he shoots her an annoyed look as he glances at your face on his screen before trying to get you to talk to him. 

“Baby?” 

Aimi pouts while watching Soonyoung hold his towel up around his waist as she sits back on his bed. Her eyes follow him as he moves into the bathroom, shutting the door where she can’t hear him anymore. 

“Who was that, Soonyoung?” 

Sighing as he leans against the counter, Soonyoung tries to think of his feet and the best thing he can think of is a half truth. 

“A student. I–uh I gotta work on some stuff with her before class. She showed up too early. Sorry, she answered my phone, babe. Won’t happen again.” 

Tears gather at the rims of your eyes as you just nod along with Soonyoung’s words. You knew deep down that there was nothing you should have over him after what had happened between you and Jihoon but it still hurt. You didn’t believe him because you knew what Soonyoung sounded like when he was lying. 

“Baby? You–you heard me, right?” 

Wiping at your cheeks, you just nod again before looking up at the entryway to your bedroom, where Jihoon is standing with a concerned look on his face. 

“Yeah, I heard you. I gotta go, Soonyoung.” 

Leaning his head down towards the sink, Soonyoung groans under his breath. He didn’t want to just let you get off the phone after something like this but he couldn’t force you to stay on the phone and listen to him come up with excuses. 

‘Yeah…okay baby. I love you, so so much.” 

Looking up at Jihoon, you wipe at your cheek once more, answering Soonyoung numbly while your words are left in the air, causing Jihoon’s heart to tighten. 

“I love you.” 

Hanging up your phone, you drop it onto the bed and close your eyes before you feel the mattress sink next to you and Jihoon’s arms wrap around you. He wasn’t sure what was happening but he knew you were in pain and if he could take it away, he would. 

Closing his eyes, Jihoon rests his face against your hair and takes in a deep breath, letting it out as you let out a soft, sad sob that shatters his heart. He knew that you were talking to Soonyoung. He knew that ‘I love you’ hadn’t been meant for him but he wished it had been. In his mind, he would never leave you like this. He wouldn’t have you crying because of him day after day. 

“Y/N…honey…do you wanna talk about it?” 

Shaking your head, you start to tell him no before you lean back to meet his eyes and all of your resolve melts away. Jihoon can only coo at you in sympathy, bringing his thumbs up to push the tears from under your eyes as you try to explain about the girl picking up the phone. 

“What do you want me to do, baby? I’ll call him and cuss his ass out. I’ll call her.” 

The words were nice but deep down, even Jihoon knew what you and he were doing was no better. At the end of the day, you didn’t really know if Soonyoung was sleeping with this girl, but did it really matter? 

Moving to lay against Jihoon, you shake your head hard and cling to Jihoon like a life raft to keep you from drowning. You know that you shouldn’t want him as much as you do but all you can think about in that moment is his lips on yours and how it would distract you from your heartbreak. 

“No, no…just…” 

This was becoming the routine for the two of you. Jihoon would go to work and come home before ending up on top of you, either in bed or on the couch, where the two of you would eventually end up naked. 

Furrowing his brows, Jihoon groans as you lay back on your bed, pulling him with you. He knew what you wanted as your fingers pulled at his shirt and worked his hair loose from its bun. He didn’t want to tell you no, so he wouldn’t. Instead, Jihoon just meshes his lips with yours and kisses away your pain and tears. With each piece of clothing that he removes from you or himself, that’s just another layer of anxiety or stress that he is removing until finally his skin is met with yours. 

“Hoonie…be rough with me?” 

Closing his eyes, Jihoon bites down lightly against your neck, near where your bruise was starting to fade when you asked him that question. There had been times when he had wanted to let go with you and just have his way with you but he had been afraid to hurt you or scare you, but now you were asking. 

“You sure, honey?” 

Nodding, you scratch your nails along Jihoon’s back, knowing that you are leaving marks that will fade in a few minutes. You didn’t want to think anymore; you just wanted to feel. All you wanted in your brain was Jihoon, Jihoon, Jihoon. 

Hissing at the feeling of your nails on his skin, Jihoon pulls back to look down at you with fire in his eyes. He would give you what you wanted. Licking his lips, Jihoon stares at you for a moment, only to then capture your lips with his in a breathtaking kiss. You whine into his mouth as Jihoon’s teeth nip at your lips before he pulls away completely, kneeling on the bed in front of you. 

“Come here; let me use that mouth.” 

Turning over, you blink up at Jihoon, only for him to pull you to where he wants you with one hand as he holds his cock in his other. Sucking on his bottom lip, Jihoon tilts his head, watching your eyes fall to what’s in front of you before you open your mouth and he taps his head on your tongue a couple times before sliding into your warm, wet mouth with a groan. 

“Fuck…just like that. Hands on my thighs, baby. If it’s too much, tap a few times, and I’ll stop.” 

Lifting your eyes to Jihoon, you moan around his cock and he almost loses it right then and there. He could feel your nails digging into his thighs as he buried his cock into your mouth, his tip almost reaching the back of your throat. The sound of your moans mixed with gagging caused Jihoon’s brain to misfire as he groaned your name. 

Fingers hold your head close to his hips as Jihoon keeps you as close to him as possible until he hears you whine and he lets you go. Leaning your head back, you blink up through tears as Jihoon wipes his hand over his lips, watching his pre-cum and your saliva drips down your chin. The sight is something he knows he won’t forget for a long time. 

“Good fucking girl, honey. Now turn your ass towards me. You want it rough, don’t you?” 

Nodding, you can barely answer Jihoon as you weakly move into the position he wants you in. Hands slap at your thighs, causing them to sting, before the same hands come down on your ass, making you cry out in surprise. Leaning over your back, Jihoon smiles against your ear, listening to you calm down as he presses small kisses on your skin. 

“You like that? When I spank you?” 

“Yeah, I like it, Hoonie.” 

Smirking, Jihoon pushes off the bed and slaps his hand down over your ass cheek one more time, listening to the sound of your moaning cry as he rubs his hand in a circle over the warm skin. With his free hand, he uses his thumb to spread your folds as he ruts his hips against you from behind, feeling your arousal drip onto his cock. 

“Honey…You are soaked. Might make me think you like being treated like a slut.” 

Whimpering in embarrassment, you bury your face against your arm. You listen to Jihoon laugh as his fingers dig into your hip. The fingers that once were running between your folds now help to press his cock against your leaking hole. 

Gasping, you scratch at the bedding under you, feeling the way that Jihoon’s cock stretches you in this new position. When his cock is fully buried inside, only then are you able to fully catch your breath, only to have it taken when it gives you no mercy and starts to pound into you relentlessly. 

You knew what you had asked for and Jihoon was delivering it. There were no coherent thoughts left in your mind. The only thing you could think about was him until the sound of his phone going off just as you were about to cum brought you back to reality. 

Frowning, Jihoon glances towards the nightstand to see Soonyoung’s face lighting up on his phone. Leaning over your back, Jihoon groans your name, feeling you tighten around him, only for you to glance towards the phone. He can feel the exact moment when you fall under him and he knows the moment is lost. 

“Stop…stop…please?” 

Coming to a stop, Jihoon carefully pulls from you as you ask him to, his head turning away from the phone only for a moment before he curses under his breath and smacks it from the nightstand. Bringing the phone to his ear, still out of breath, he answers the call, anger evident in his tone.  

“Yeah?” 

Taken aback by the anger, Soonyoung furrows his brows and wipes his towel across his neck to clean off a new layer of sweat from practice. Maybe Jihoon had been at the gym and he was interrupting a set, but he had never gotten that sort of response or that level. 

“Am I bothering you? Fuck, dude…” 

Rolling his eyes, Jihoon sits on the side of your bed, feeling his head start to hurt as you turn away from him and pull your legs up towards your stomach. He knew you were feeling shame and guilt when you didn’t need to and it was Soonyoung’s fault, it was his fault. You weren’t at fault for this. 

“Yeah, you are. What do you want?” 

Scoffing, Soonyoung looks at himself in the mirror, clenching his fist and unclenching it before letting out a sigh. 

“I was just waiting to check in. I wanted to see if you had talked to Y/N today. Something happened earlier and I am just…” 

The laugh starts off unamused but ends up being a genuine laugh as Jihoon leans his head back, causing Soonyoung to be even more confused until Jihoon speaks. 

“The chick picking up the phone? I know about it. Be smarter about your hook-ups if you are trying to keep them from your girl, Soonyoung.” 

Now Soonyoung was seeing red. Jihoon might be his best friend but that didn’t give him the right to tell him how to live his life or how to handle his relationship with you. Especially when he was getting awfully cozy with you. 

“Fuck you, man. You have no idea what I’m going through. Know what I think?” 

Making a questioning sound, Jihoon lifts his brows, waiting for Soonyoung to continue but Soonyoung just scoffs, putting his fist against the mirror. 

“I’m waiting to hear the great gospel, according to Kwon Soonyoung.” 

Shaking his head, Soonyoung hangs up the call and turns to slide down the mirror to sit on the floor as Aimi frowns at him. Moving closer, she kneels in front of him, brushing her fingers over his cheek and he gives in, leaning into a friendly touch. 

Three Weeks Later

You had just gotten your car back. You and Jihoon had started splitting time between who’s place you would stay at but today just happened to be one of the evenings when he was busy and you needed a little time to yourself. 

Rubbing the back of your neck, you drop your keys into the bowl beside the door and sigh, not noticing the extra shoes beside the door. You don’t notice the suitcase next to the couch until the smell of Soonyoung’s cologne overwhelms you. 

“Hey baby.” 

Startled, you take a step back as Soonyoung smiles at you, his brows furrowing at your reaction to him. Maybe it hadn’t been the best idea to just show up but you had started ignoring his calls more and answering fewer texts and he was starting to worry about you. He was starting to worry about you and him. 

“Oh, hey, sorry... didn’t mean to scare you, babe.” 

Grinning, Soonyoung moves towards you, pulling you into his arms as you wrap your arms around his waist, feeling tears stinging your eyes. You feel overwhelmed and uncertain what to do or how to feel. He doesn’t seem real, even if he’s in your arms. The man that you have loved for so many years of your life now just feels like guilt in your hands. 

“Aren’t you happy to see me?” 

Nodding, you cling to Soonyoung, not wanting him to see any disappointment on your face. Because you aren’t really disappointed. You have missed him. No matter anything that had happened or would happen, this man was your friend and you always wanted him to be. He had started that way, as your best friend. He knew how to make you laugh better than anyone and you loved him for that. 

“Of course I am, Soonie. When did you get here?” 

Soonyoung smiles, burying his nose against your hair and taking in your scent as he closes his eyes. He tries to count the time in his head but the jet lag makes everything muddle together. Shaking his head, he just laughs and shrugs his shoulders. 

“Couple of hours ago. Just enough time to throw some left over in the oven and a load of laundry in. All I wanna do now is lay down and cuddle with my girl. Can we do that?” 

Your heart feels like glass as you listen to Soonyoung talk, because it sounds so simple. You want to tell him everything he wants to hear so you just do it. You nod and look up at him with a smile, letting him press a kiss to your lips that you meekly return, though your brain drifts to Jihoon. 

“Yeah, of course. Let me... let me–uh change and we can lay on the couch.” 

Whining, Soonyoung wraps his arms around you from behind, burying his face against your neck as you start to walk away from him. Your hand on your cellphone is in your jacket pocket as he pulls you back against him. 

“Not the couch, kitten. I wanna lay on the bed. I’m tired… cuddle with me.” 

You scoff into an unamused laugh before nodding and looking over your shoulder at Soonyoung, who smiles at you so sweetly that you can’t say no. 

“Yeah, the bed. I’ll change and meet you there.” 

Watching Soonyoung trudge off down the hall, you let out a breath, pulling out your cellphone to text Jihoon with shaking hands. 

Y/N 💗: Soonyoung is home 

The day had been long but the night was going to be longer. Jihoon hated album wrap ups but as a producer, sometimes he had to do grunt work up until the early hours of the morning. Hearing his phone go off was one thing that could make him smile until he read your text and his face fell. 

Muttering fuck under his breath and drawing the attention of a friend in the studio with him, Jihoon apologizes, turning his chair away to answer you. 

Hoonie 💗: For how long?

Y/N 💗: I have no idea

Rubbing his hand over his face, Jihoon puts his phone face down on his desk in front of him. It wasn’t your fault. In truth, Soonyoung had given you both a warning when he said two or three weeks, but he usually never kept those promises.

Looking at your phone as you move into your room, you glance at the bed to see Soonyoung lying where Jihoon usually would be now. A smile on the man’s face as he flips through channels on the TV, picking what he wants instead of what you like. 

Eyes shift towards you as you move into the closet, closing it halfway and making Soonyoung’s brows furrow. You had never shied away from him before, but it had been several months since he had been home so maybe that was all this was. Shaking his head, he turned his attention back to the TV and leaned his head back against the pillows, enjoying the comforts of home. 

Hanging up your jacket, you swallow hard, seeing no new texts from Jihoon. You couldn’t blame him. There wasn’t anything else to say. You could hear the TV and Soonyoung’s soft laughter, which made you wish that things were as easy as he was making them seem. 

“Soonie…babe? How…uh, how long are you home?” 

Pursing his lips, Soonyoung glances towards the closet again, seeing a peek of your skin as you change into your classic choice of pajamas, a tank top, and short shorts. In one way, your question was a simple and normal one, but in another way, it seemed suspicious. Soonyoung decided to keep it simple and think that you were just curious about his plans. 

“Wish it was longer, but... I fly out tomorrow night.” 

Staring at the clothes in front of you, a scoff falls from your lips. The first thought on your mind is “What was the fucking point?” but you don’t say it out loud. Instead, you just pick up your phone and text Jihoon as you shake your head. 

Y/N 💗: He flies out tomorrow night.

You don’t expect a text back, so you just hold your phone to your waist until you move to the bed, smiling at Soonyoung. Laying your phone face down, you plug it in, leaving it silent, before slipping under the covers and letting your boyfriend pull you in close to him with a happy groan. 

“You aren’t mad at me, are you? I tried to find a better time but it’s so fucking busy. They keep trying to keep me on full time.” 

Furrowing your brows, you look up at Soonyoung to gauge his expression but it’s almost impossible to judge. You start to realize you aren’t sure you know this man anymore. 

“And what do you want to do?” 

Shrugging, Soonyoung stumbles over his words before just smiling at you and running his fingers along your jaw. 

“Right now? I just wanna kiss my beautiful girlfriend. I’ve missed you so fucking much, baby.” 

You knew he was deflecting but you also didn’t want to argue. You didn’t have the strength or the will to fight with the one person who you had simultaneously missed and hated over the past few months. So you give in, closing your eyes as Soonyoung’s lips brush over yours. You take a breath as his hand slides along your waist and he pulls you closer before laying you on your back so he can lay on top of you. 

Nothing feels the way it should. At one point in your life, you loved Soonyoung with every fiber of your being. His touch was electric; his mouth was like fire on your skin, but now you feel dull as he groans your name, his thigh pressed between your legs. It isn’t that it doesn’t feel good or that you aren’t able to get off on it; it’s more to do with the fact that you are picturing someone else in your bed. 

Keeping your eyes shut tightly, you whine when Soonyoung’s lips brush over your stomach as his fingers tug your shorts down so he can lay between your thighs. He gasps at the sight of your wet folds before pulling them apart with his thumbs so he can run his tongue from your entrance all the way to your clit, causing you to arch off the bed. 

With a smirk, Soonyoung can’t help but let how you are reacting go to his head. All he can think about is how good he makes you feel and how you taste on his tongue. In his mind, this is the first time you have had someone's tongue on your pretty pussy in months and it’s his alone. 

“Fuccckk….kitten. My sweet girl. So fucking messy. Getting juice all over my face. You should just come back to Tokyo with me.” 

Shaking your head, you want him to stop talking so you push Soonyoung’s head back down between your legs so that his mouth is flush with your pussy. Two fingers work their way into your tight hole and Soonyoung groans around your clit, feeling how you clench down on them. He practically growls when your fingernails scratch at his scalp, feeling like you finally cum for him, though you made him work for it. 

Coming up for air, Soonyoung chuckles, looking down at you as you hide your face. You look so cute and shy. You remind him of when the two of you first got together and how innocent you had been before he rammed his cock into you, much like he was going to do now. 

Watching your mouth fall open in a moan, Soonyoung bites at his bottom lip as his hands hold to your hips as he thrusts into you hard and fast. He had missed you and honestly, there was no one else like you. Nothing could compare to how your pussy would clench down on his cock and hold him inside of you like you were trying to keep him forever. God, how he wanted you to keep him forever in that moment, even if his mind momentarily slipped to Aimi whining on his bed. 

Shaking the thoughts from his mind, Soonyoung falls on top of you. His mouth finds your neck as he bites and sucks deep marks that he hopes will stay for at least long enough for you to remember where he was. His thrusts grow impatient and uneven until finally you hear his high pitched groan against your skin when Soonyoung cums inside of you. 

Tears roll from your eyes and along your temples as your hand rests on your forehead, the other against his back, feeling him push his cum back inside of you. At one point in your life, you would have loved that feeling but you knew at that moment that you didn’t love him anymore or at least you didn’t love him as much as you once did. How were you supposed to tell the person who was the love of your life something like that? 

You wake up alone the next morning, your eyes swollen from crying yourself silently to sleep the night before. Turning to look for Soonyoung, you find nothing but an empty bed and his jacket slung over the chair in the corner. Only the smell of food cooking in the kitchen lets you know that you aren’t truly alone. 

Reaching for your phone, you sniff back fresh tears as you check for new messages, seeing a couple from Jihoon that actually work to calm you down. 

Hoon 💗: Then I’ll come over once he’s gone

Hoon 💗: You still got me, honey 

Smiling, you run your thumb over the screen and send back a simple heart emoji before turning in the direction of where Soonyoung’s phone dings. Glancing towards the door, you lean over the bed and pick up his phone, looking at the lock screen and seeing a few messages from Aimi. 

Aimi: So bored without you 

Aimi: OMG come back already…

Aimi: 🥺

You know that you should feel hurt or angry when you see the messages but instead you find yourself suddenly indifferent as you turn Soonyoung’s phone face down on his nightstand and slide out of bed. Slipping on your robe, you make your way out towards the kitchen, putting on a smile as he leans down to kiss the corner of your lips with a sigh. 

“Good morning, gorgeous.” 

Humming, you slide on to a bar stool and look at the food he has made, noting you would have to go grocery shopping once again. It was a nice gesture on his part but when you were practically living on your own most days, paying rent on your own while your boyfriend was off living his dreams, you couldn’t just buy anything and everything you wanted. 

“What time is your flight?” 

Wincing, Soonyoung turns to take the juice out of the fridge, glancing towards the microwave for the time being before tilting his head back and forth before looking at you for sympathy. 

“I’ll have to leave here around 2ish if I wanna make it through security and all that international shit on time.” 

Glancing at the clock, you lift your brows and sigh before leaning your chin on your arm as Soonyoung pours two cups of juice, watching you closely. 

“You aren’t mad at me? I know it’s a short visit but I wanted to at least try. I’ve missed you so much, kitten.” 

Shaking your head, you pick up a piece of bacon and chew on it with a sigh from your nose before meeting his eyes.

“You have to do what you have to do, Soonyoung.” 

Your indifference causes Soonyoung’s brows to furrow and his stomach to twist with anxiety but he still tries to offer you a smile. Taking a sip of his juice, he pushes yours towards you before looking at the fridge and seeing a picture of you and Jihoon smiling, heads pushed together. It looks innocent enough but it still makes his heart hurt. Gesturing towards it, Soonyoung clears his throat and licks his lips of any remaining juice. 

“You and Jihoon have gotten pretty close.” 

Looking at the picture, you can’t help but smile, remembering the day Jihoon went with you to the farmer’s market and how he hadn’t complained a single time. Shrugging at Soonyoung’s words, you look down at the food in front of you, pushing around the eggs before sighing softly. 

“He’s a good person. He’s good to me. Don’t you want someone to be good to me?” 

Narrowing his eyes, Soonyoung bites at his bottom lip at the accusation that seems to be lingering right under your question but instead of giving into his anger, he just looks down at his own plate of food and lets out a long, drawn out breath. 

“Course I do, babe. I love you more than anything.” 

Rolling your eyes, you think back to the text messages from Aimi and mutter under your breath that you doubt that, making Soonyoung lean his head in towards you over the counter in confusion. 

“What did you say, baby? I couldn’t hear you.” 

“Nothing, just said... I love you too.” 

You had watched Soonyoung repack his carry-on and grab a couple of things out of your shared closet before he kissed you goodbye with a concerned look on his face. You only offer him a half smile, leaning against the door frame, as he looks back, telling you he will let you know when he lands and how much he loves you. 

“Mmkay, have a safe flight.” 

Pausing, Soonyoung licks his lips, lifting his hand to block the sun as he looks at you, trying to remember what it felt like when you were head over heels for him. Something was different. He knew it and so did you but neither of you were willing to say it. 

Nodding as his gaze drops to the ground, Soonyoung can only let out a half amused laugh, realizing you hadn’t told him that you loved him back. Maybe it had been a mistake or just because you seemed so tired, but looking up and meeting your eyes—seeing the tears even from halfway down the driveway—he knew it wasn’t. 

“Okay, babe.” 

If this had been the old you—the old Soonyoung—you would have walked to the end of the driveway with him. You would have begged him not to go back and told him how much you loved him—to the end of the earth and back. But that wasn’t who either of you were anymore, so instead, you watched from the door as the car drove down the road before turning back inside and closing the door. 

Normally, you would have shed tears and found yourself curled up in bed with your cellphone clenched against your chest, waiting for him to message you about his flight but this time you knew it was different. You felt like you could breathe. There was a sense of pain mixed with your relief—such a strange feeling that you couldn’t name. 

Jihoon had waited half an hour to come over after Soonyoung had left for his flight. He had sent his texts to his best friend, wishing him a safe flight and all the usual pleasantries but at the heart of it, he was waiting to get back to you. It had been too long since he had seen your face in person and no matter how selfish he was feeling, Jihoon couldn’t make himself feel guilty about it anymore. You were his. 

Using the key you had made for him, Jihoon unlocked your door and dropped his things on the side table before meeting your eyes from the couch, feeling relief wash over him. You were like a breath of fresh air. 

“Hey, honey…”

Only when Jihoon speaks will your tears finally fall. You close your eyes and bring your hands up to cover your face, not wanting him to see you upset but he is the one who has seen you that way the most lately. Arms wrap around you and Jihoon kisses the side of your head as he whispers, It’s okay, only to feel you shake in his embrace. He isn’t sure what you are upset about, but it doesn’t actually matter. All that matters is that he’s going to make it better. 

“They offered me a full position at the studio.” 

Soonyoung sighed into his words as he looked down at his hand as Aimi slid hers into his. He wasn’t sure if he loved her but she felt nice. At least sometimes she did. Other times, she felt like guilt and regret, but today she felt like a friend and a lover. 

“Are you gonna take it?” 

She could be hopeful. For Aimi, this was starting to turn into love. She loved how Soonyoung looked at her sometimes and how he would hold her after he would fuck her into his mattress. Other times, she was reminded that she wasn’t you. She had no disillusion with who she was and what she was doing, but clearly Soonyoung wasn’t happy and neither were you. 

Shrugging, Soonyoung leans back against his headboard, letting Aimi rest against his chest, her head against his jaw as he traces her fingers like she used to do with you. He missed moments like this with you, but he didn’t know you anymore. The woman he had fallen in love with was a million miles away, not just in distance but in other ways. 

“Maybe…I dunno. I gotta talk to Y/N.” Shifting uncomfortably when he says your name, Soonyoung takes a deep breath and tightens his fingers around Aimi’s. “I go back home in a month. That’s when this job officially ends.” 

Frowning to herself, Aimi looks out at the city skyline and says a silent prayer to herself that maybe Soonyoung will change his mind and stay. Maybe you will tell him to stay, but she keeps it to herself and only nods before meeting his eyes. 

“Okay, well, whatever you decide, you know where I am.” 

Soonyoung can hear the innocence in the girl’s voice and it almost makes him want to laugh. Not at Aimi or at her innocence but more at how, even in the situation, she seems so perfect. Brushing his lips over hers, Soonyoung takes in a breath of her perfume while at the same time letting it wash over his senses and push you further from his mind. She was right; he knew where she was but what he didn’t know was where you were.

You moan Jihoon’s name, only for him to swallow it with his kiss as his hands slide over your hips. Jihoon was enjoying the feeling of you sitting on his cock but each time you clenched around him, he felt like he was going to explode. 

“Fuck, Y/N…” 

Rolling your hips down over Jihoon, you dig your nails into his shoulders as he rests his head back against the headboard with a long, deep groan. You loved riding Jihoon, especially when you were at his place. Here were no pictures of Soonyoung, nothing you could accidentally make eye contact with as you asked for Jihoon to make you forget. 

Jihoon was so good at making you forget. He was even better at making you want something different. Something that you didn’t think you could ever have because you belonged to someone else. Someone else was in love with you and you had made a promise to wait for him.

“Baby, if you don’t slow down, I’m gonna cum first.” 

Shaking your head at Jihoon’s words, you feel his fingers dig into your hips as you whine against his jaw, not wanting to stop. Gritting his teeth, Jihoon groans your name once again before he feels himself unable to hold back anymore. You rest your forehead against his as you watch Jihoon’s mouth drop open and feel the warmth of his cum start to spill into you. 

Catching his breath, Jihoon shakes his head with a wince, feeling you rock your hips over his softening cock. He knew you had a hard day and he didn’t mind letting you get out your frustrations in any way you wanted to but he still liked to make you feel good. 

Lifting his hands, Jihoon shifts you back from him and cups your cheek to make you look at him as he licks his lips. You feel your cheeks instantly start to burn at his attention and his intense gaze, his eyes studying you as his fingers brush sweat from your temple. 

“You wanna talk about it?” 

Leaning your head back from him, you shake your head no, making Jihoon let out a disapproving breath. He knew there was a lot on your mind but he could only make you say as much as you were willing to. Running his thumb along your jaw, Jihoon nods, glancing towards his nightstand to see where your phone is plugged in. The light draws his eye but more so Soonyoung’s face, letting you know he is calling you. 

“Soonyoung’s calling…” 

Jihoon watches your eyes move to your phone and the way your body stiffens against his. You could ignore it; you had before in other circumstances but he hadn’t called today and you felt like you were made of glass. 

A few more seconds pass before you slide from Jihoon’s lap and sit on the side of the bed before answering your phone. You swallow hard into your words, feeling Jihoon’s hand resting against your hip like an anchor. 

“Hello?” 

Soonyoung leans against his balcony door, glancing towards his bed, where Aimi sighs in her sleep as you finally answer your phone. You didn’t sound overjoyed to hear from him, but that was his usual greeting—it still hurt. 

“Hey, baby. I just…” 

You listen as Soonyoung scoffs into a sad laugh as you furrow your brows, trying to figure out how you are supposed to feel or respond. Shaking your head, you start to speak when he continues. 

“Just—uh, I wanted to check in. Didn’t talk to you much today or yesterday. I mean, fuck, let’s be honest, we haven’t talked much since I got back.” 

He wasn’t wrong. You could count the number of phone calls on two hands over the span of the last month and the text messages were not much better. Most were either one of you saying you were thinking of the other or checking in, but every time it felt like keeping up appearances. 

“I’m…I’m sorry. I can try to do better if you want. I’ve just been busy, Soonyoung.” 

Shaking his head, Soonyoung bites at his lip when you try to apologize and come up with an excuse without actually giving any real excuse. He knew he wasn’t any better but once again, it still hurt. 

“No, it’s fine. I get it. I’m busy, too. Always fucking busy, right? That’s us…” 

Tears sting your eyes, making your vision blurry as you hear the hurt in Soonyoung’s voice. Closing your eyes, the tears fall over your cheeks, only for you to try to sniff them back as quietly as possible. Hearing your tears, Jihoon sits up, moving closer to you, trying to pull you back towards him, only for you to shake your head. 

When Soonyoung hears you crying, his own tears finally fall. Nodding, he lifts his free hand to wipe at his cheek with a groan before sniffing back the tears and pushing off the wall. 

“But I’ll be home in a month, right? So we can just see what happens. Right, Y/N?”

You can hear the hope in his voice layered with all that sorrow and it only serves to break your heart more as you shake your head and shrug. Licking the salty tears from your lips, you lift your arm to wipe away your own tears before making yourself calm down. 

“Yeah, a month, Soonie.” 

The name Soonie makes Soonyoung close his eyes and drop his head. It used to make him smile when you’d call him the cute name and tell him how much you loved him but now it feels like his heart is breaking. 

“Okay…goodnight, baby.”

Leaning your head back, you take a breath, letting it out as you hear the finality in Soonyoung’s words. The tone of his voice makes you wonder how hard he will try to stay in touch before he shows up back at home. 

“Night. I love—” 

Hearing the phone disconnect before you finish your sentence tells you everything you need to know.

Jihoon couldn’t help but watch the days tick by. Never in his life could he remember a month going by as quickly as this one seemed to. He wanted to hold on to each and every minute he had left with this little life he had made up with you but every single day passing was a reminder that it was ending. 

He wondered, selfishly, if he just told you how he felt if you’d tell Soonyoung what was happening and ask him not to come home. But then he’d be hit with guilt. That never stopped his feelings or the urge to tell you how much he cared about you. 

Holding you in his arms, your arm draped over his stomach as you traced some design made up in your head on his forearm, Jihoon watched you under the moonlight. There was less than a week left before Soonyoung would be back, laying where he was now. The thought of it made his stomach twist and his heart feel like it was breaking. 

“Y/N, honey…” 

You smile softly at the pet name, your lips pulling up against Jihoon’s skin, before you glance up at him, seeing questions in his eyes. That look had been there for a while now but it was as if he were afraid to say anything, afraid you’d run away. Maybe now was the time, before there was no time left. 

“What…well—what happens when Soonyoung gets home?” 

Your smile fades at Jihoon’s question because that wasn’t what you thought he was going to ask. You weren’t sure what he was going to ask but you hadn’t expected it to be about Soonyoung. Swallowing hard, you lay your head back down and look out your window towards the sky as if some sort of answer lies in the stars but nothing helps. 

“I–Jihoon…I don’t know. I guess things just…” 

Lifting your hand from his arm, you gesture into the air, trying to express your words as Jihoon’s eyes follow them, but it only serves to confuse him and make his heart beat faster. Shaking his head, Jihoon shifts under you, making you sit up as he does. You tilt your head with a whine, feeling his hands on either side of your cheeks as his eyes search for yours. 

“Guess things, what? Go back to how they were. Seriously, Y/N? Is that what you fucking want?” 

Closing your eyes, you feel tears welling up in your eyes at the questions leaving Jihoon’s mouth. You knew what you wanted the answers to be but life wasn’t always that simple. Holding your face still but gently, Jihoon swallows back his emotion with a curse under his breath as he watches your tears stream down your cheeks. 

“Baby...come on. Look me in the eyes and tell me that you still love him. I mean, fuck, look me in the eye and tell me that you don’t love me!” 

Lifting your hands, you hold Jihoon’s wrists as you keep your eyes shut tightly to try to save yourself from hurting him or lying. When Jihoon whines your name, tears are evident in his voice. You just shake your head and finally meet his eyes. 

“It’s not that simple, Jihoon! Fuck! I wish it was! I want it to be, but god, it’s just not!” 

Dropping his hands into your lap, Jihoon blinks tears from his eyes as he nods, understanding what you are trying to say. You watch as he turns his head away from you and furrows his brows before taking his hands from you and sliding off the bed. Your heart tightens in your chest as you reach for his hand, only for Jihoon to move it from your reach. 

“I’m gonna head home.” 

You shake your head, moving to your knees on the bed, a whine of Jihoon’s name on your lips when he turns back towards you to take your face back in his hands. Leaning to rest his forehead against yours, Jihoon sniffs back his tears as you cling to his forearms and whisper that you don’t want him to go. 

“I have to, honey. Things go back to how they were, right?” 

Kissing you softly, Jihoon only lingers for a moment before he presses his lips to your forehead and leaves you watching him from your bed, tears streaming down your face. You listen to the sound of your front door opening and closing before emotion ripples through your body and you find you can’t hold yourself upright anymore. 

There was heartache when it came to Soonyoung but this felt worse. Now the walls that had built up around you were shattering around you and there was no safety left from the storm. You knew you had created the storm—though you hadn’t created it alone—it was yours to name and it was yours to weather. 

You had forgotten how little Soonyoung had taken with him to Tokyo when he had left a year ago. You listened to the sound of water running as Soonyoung took his shower just down the hall from where you stood, unpacking his suitcase, bit by bit. 

There are so many memories attached to items and then there are so many new things that you don’t recognize at all. For the few hours that Soonyoung had been home, the conversation had been light. There had been discussion about what you had planned for dinner and how his flight had gone.

“Y/N…uh babe…” 

Soonyoung’s voice pulls you back to the present as you glance over your shoulder to look at him, his towel around his waist, a look of confusion on his face as he moves further into the room. Swallowing hard, he laughs awkwardly before gesturing to his suitcase on the bed. 

“I can do that. You don't... just leave my shit alone.” 

Gently moving your hands from one of his shirts, Soonyoung pulls the suitcase closer to him. Taking a step back, you scoff at your boyfriend before shaking your head and running your hand over your hair. You could feel the tension thickening in the air even as you turned away, leaving him in the bedroom alone with his shit. 

Soonyoung hadn’t meant to upset you, but he wasn’t used to you being in his space anymore. He was used to you going through his things anymore. Groaning under his breath as he listens to the sound of you opening and closing cabinets in the kitchen louder than necessary, Soonyoung works to get dressed before staring at his suitcases, trying to decide where to start. 

The idea was simple, the task seemed impossible. Put the clothes away and live like he had never left. But that wasn’t going to be so easy in a place where he didn’t feel like he belonged anymore. 

You weren’t looking for things to annoy you about Soonyoung; however, it seemed that everything did now that he was home. You were reminded that he frequently forgot to put down the toilet seat and that he didn’t always put the lid back on the toothpaste. So as you sat on the couch near him after a silent dinner, he could feel the chill in the air, making him finally pause the unwatched movie on the TV. 

“I was watching that.” 

Shaking his head, Soonyoung turns to look at you, reaching for your hand, only to feel you start to pull away. He had expected it, but it still hurt. He was inches from you and he still felt like he was a world away. 

“You weren’t, Y/N. You have been pissed off at me since I got out of the shower.” 

Shrugging, you let Soonyoung run his thumb along your palm as he tries to calm you down, but all you can think about is how much you miss Jihoon and how it’s been days since he’s answered your texts. You can just feel how much your heart is in your throat because you can’t have him where Soonyoung is right now. 

“No…I–” 

“Just stop! I–fuck, Y/N! I’m home and it’s the same. I could be across the world and we’d be doing the same shit. So, when do we just stop? I can’t do this anymore. You–dammit…” 

You stop talking as Soonyoung yells at you, his hand dropping yours as he leans back to run his hand over his face. You watch as tears collect in his eyes, all the emotion that he has been holding back rushing to the surface as he thinks about what he is doing and what it is going to mean. Gesturing towards you, Soonyoung feels like panicking and taking back his words before he even says them, but he already knows it’s too late. 

“I fucked up. I…I–I slept with someone else, Y/N and I—” 

Shaking his head, Soonyoung watches as your brows furrow and the tears that had been collecting in your eyes fall down over your cheeks. Lowering his head, he reaches back out for your hand, taking it into his before meeting your eyes and taking a breath before speaking. 

“I’m sorry —” 

“I don’t think that I love you anymore, Soonyoung.” 

Your words cut off his, making Soonyoung stop suddenly. Perhaps he knew that you didn’t love him anymore but hearing it out loud felt like a bomb going off in his chest. You feel his hands tremble around yours as he lets out a shaky breath and nods, trying to form the right words only to start and stop making you speak up first. 

“I slept with Jihoon. I–I’m in love with Jihoon. I’m sorry…” 

Letting go of your hand, Soonyoung rubs his hand over his mouth when you confess what you have done to him. He knew the two of you had gotten close, and now knowing he wasn’t so crazy for being suspicious made Soonyoung’s heart drop into his stomach. 

“What the fuck, Y/N…” 

It’s you that reach out for Soonyoung’s hand, only for him to pull them away harshly, his eyes meeting yours with disdain before they soften slightly. He knew he was being hypocritical. He had done exactly what you had done but it felt worse because it was Jihoon. It felt personal because it was his best friend and his girlfriend. 

“I thought...fuck, I don't know what I fucking thought. That I’d tell you what a fuck up I was, and you and I would start over.” Sighing into a groan, Soonyoung leans his head forward, feeling you run your hand over his cheek as he continues. “We both fucked up, Y/N. Real bad…” 

Looking up to try to stop more tears, you only feel more fall and drip along your neck as you nod along with Soonyoung’s words. The truth was painful, but it was better than the lies that you had used to build up some fake security around yourself to hide from the pain. 

“We just…we fell out of love, Soonyoung.” 

Sitting in silence, seconds turn to minutes and minutes turn to an hour before Soonyoung finally stands up and draws your attention with him. You watch as the man shrugs and wipes his tears from his cheeks before he holds out his hands as if laying out everything on the table. 

“I was offered the job at the studio as a full-time position. I had told them I was going to think about it… but I–I’m gonna take it, Y/N.” 

You can only nod as Soonyoung lets out a breath before shaking his head as if that’s all he has left to say and walks from the room, leaving you alone on the couch. The emotions you find are like waves in moments of extreme change. You are washed over with relief from telling the truth and then pushed back with pain from the end of a relationship, only to be washed over with the feeling of hope.

It was raining the morning that Soonyoung left for the airport and you were left with an extra set of keys. You had spent time walking around the rooms, picking up the last bits of your relationship. It seemed that with each picture you collected or each stuffed animal you put away, the rain would fall harder along with your tears, making you only think of one person. 

Jihoon.

He didn’t know what had happened and you knew you had put him through enough. Just the thought of him as you moved into the kitchen, seeing the picture of the two of you at the farmer’s market, was enough to break your resolve and cause you to find yourself less than an hour later at his door, shivering from the rain. 

The storm had only gotten worse throughout the day so hearing his doorbell and your voice calling his name from his door made Jihoon’s heart drop to his stomach. A list of reasons you could be at his door came to his mind as he made his way to you. Soonyoung had been in an accident, you had been hurt, something terrible had happened, or maybe just—no, you couldn’t be there for him. 

Opening his door, Jihoon’s breath is taken away by seeing you after so many days, your hair and clothes soaked as you shiver from the rain. Grabbing your hand, he pulled you in and looked you over for any signs of injury but all he could find were your tears mixing with the rain on your cheeks. 

“What are you doing, Y/N? Why…why didn’t you grab a coat or something? You’re gonna get sick…” 

Shaking your head, you just smile, wrapping your arms around Jihoon’s neck, pulling him close to you, and making him take in a deep breath as you suddenly hug him. He could feel his clothes becoming instantly soaked, but he couldn’t find any reason to care as he wrapped his arms around you and held you close as you clung to him. 

“I’m so sorry, Jihoon. I’m so stupid. I love you so much.” 

Confusion is what hits Jihoon first when you tell him that you love him. He thinks he is hearing things but you say it again and Jihoon holds you even tighter before letting out a shaky breath. 

“I love you too. Tell me what’s going on, honey.” 

Letting Jihoon finally move away from you so he can look at your face once again, you lean into his touch as you recount the past couple of days. You explain the fight with Soonyoung and the confessions. Wincing at the idea of Soonyoung’s pain, Jihoon’s brows furrow as he runs his hand along your cheek before resting his forehead against yours. 

“He’s right, we did this all fucking wrong, baby. I hate that it happened like this, but... I don’t regret it. I can’t…”

Nodding along with Jihoon, you grab at his shirt, pulling him back close to you as you tell him you love him again and claim your first kiss in days from him. Jihoon’s brows furrow deeply, feeling your lips on his, making him want more after missing you so much. 

With a small grunt on your lips, Jihoon tugs you close and lifts you, letting you wrap your legs around his waist so he can carry you down the hall towards his bedroom. Hearing you whine into the kiss, he smiles and shakes his head, only to nip at your lips when he turns into the bathroom and places you on the counter. 

“Stay right here…” 

Jihoon smirks to himself upon hearing you whisper his name, your fingers clinging to his shirt even as he pulls away from you to lean into the shower, turning it on. You watch as steam starts to fill the room and as Jihoon tugs his shirt over his head before kicking his sweatpants off, leaving him bare in front of you. There was something different about seeing him now, his body on display for you as his blonde hair started to fall from its low bun. You knew he was yours and he was seeing you as his. 

“Gotta get you outta those wet clothes, honey. You are gonna get sick; I don’t want that.” 

Biting at your lip, you lift your arms as Jihoon tugs at your shirt, pulling it up and over your head. You close your eyes, leaning your head back and relishing the feeling of his soft lips pressing to the swell of your breasts over your bra as his fingers work the clasp loose. 

“Mm, not gonna get sick, Hoonie. Oh, fuck…” 

You whine out a moan, leaning back against the mirror, when Jihoon’s mouth wraps around your nipple, your bra falling to the floor. Smiling against your skin, Jihoon glances up even at such a close distance to watch your mouth fall open in a moan of his name as he uses his free hand to roll the other hardening bud between his index finger and thumb. 

With a soft popping sound, Jihoon lets go of your breasts, moving from one to the other, letting you squirm on the counter with him between your thighs. Sliding your fingers over his arms and the other hand through his hair, you arch your chest towards Jihoon’s mouth as you mutter a quiet plea for more, telling him how much you missed him. 

“Yeah? Did you miss me? How much?” 

Fingers push into the top of your pants as you lift your hips, letting Jihoon work them down your legs. You try to articulate your words to let Jihoon know how much you missed him, but just incoherently mutters his name and please fall from your lips, making him smirk as his hands push your thighs apart, letting him see how wet you have gotten just from his teasing. 

“Shit…You are so pretty. How am I gonna let you go home?” 

Shaking your head, you meet Jihoon’s eyes as he moves down to his knees in front of the bathroom counter, pulling you to the edge. The warmth of his tongue running from your entrance to your clit sends a shockwave through your body. Your skin erupts with chill bumps and your toes point as you try to lift your hips from the counter. 

Pushing your hips down with one arm, Jihoon groans to your taste as if committing it to memory just in case something were to happen again and he were to not get you back into his bed. Your fingers dig into his hair, feeling Jihoon’s mouth wrap around your clit, only for him to lap his tongue around the bundle of nerves, making your thighs shake. 

“Don’t wanna…ah! Don’t wanna go home without you, Jihoon. Fuck!” 

Your words almost cause Jihoon to pull back from what he is doing, but your hand keeps his head between your legs as your orgasm rips through you and your cum begins to drip on to his waiting tongue. Groaning at your taste, Jihoon uses his lips to pull at your soft folds, listening to the sounds of your whines as he overstimulates you until you start to close your thighs around his head. Only then does he smile against your pussy, placing one last kiss on your wet folds before standing back up to claim your lips, letting you taste yourself in his mouth. 

Your words hadn’t gone by without him noticing, but Jihoon still had much on his mind and wanted in you. Feeling you gasp on his lips, Jihoon picks you up once more and walks with you into his shower, letting the door close behind him. You sigh against his lips as he puts you up against the tile wall, letting the warm water rain down over the both of you.

Smiling against your lips, Jihoon slides his hands along your legs, letting you stand on one, keeping the other at his hip as he speaks between kisses. You can only furrow your brows and let out a moan, feeling his cock slide into you slowly. The stretch is welcomed and intense as Jihoon pins you against the shower wall. 

“You don’t want to go home without me?” 

Shaking your head, you gasp, feeling Jihoon bottom out inside of you. Fingers scratch along the back of your leg towards your knee as Jihoon moves his kisses to your jaw and then your neck, leaving bites and marks on his way to your ear as you moan his name at your answer. 

“Uh huh… miss you. Please, oh fuck… don’t stop.” 

With your earlobe between his lips, Jihoon smiles, feeling you clench down on his cock when he thrusts into you hard and deep. He wasn’t in a rush. He wanted to feel every bit of you around him and he wanted to make sure you felt every inch of him as if he were made for you. Jihoon wanted to fill you full of him in every single way, even if he wouldn’t say it out loud to you in the moment, as his hand moved over your stomach, gently pushing down over your lower abdomen. 

“I’m not gonna stop, baby… fuck…I wanna be this deep in you all the fucking time.”

Jihoon had dirty talk with you before, especially when you had asked him to be rough with you, but this was different. You could feel how deep he was inside of you and you could almost feel how true his words were. You wanted as much as he did. Laying your hand over his, you gasp as Jihoon’s eyes meet yours with a hard thrust, sending you over the edge once again. 

“Good girl, good fucking girl. Cum for me, honey.” 

Watching you fall apart for him was almost better than anything Jihoon could physically experience until your walls clenched around him like a vice. Your hips roll towards him and Jihoon is a goner. Any intention he had to hold back his own climax is gone as he groans your name and bites at your lips, pushing his cum into you with each thrust. 

By the time you and Jihoon catch your breath, the water starts to go cold. Smiling on your lips, Jihoon slides his tongue against yours for one more deep kiss that makes your mind go blank before he has you on your own two feet once again. 

You rely on him to keep you upright as he laughs when you start to complain about the cold water as he finishes cleaning between your legs. Jihoon just looks at you with love and wonder as he helps you out of the shower and wraps a towel around you, knowing you are his. 

When you finally wake up in Jihoon’s bed a few hours later, you are happy to find him beside you, his arm under your head, as the moon shines through his window. Turning towards him, you can’t help the urge to run your fingers over his cheek and nose, making Jihoon flinch at your touch and open his eyes slowly to find you looking at him. 

“Mm, why aren’t you still asleep, honey?” 

Sliding closer to Jihoon, you let him hold you in his arms and press his lips to your forehead. The guilt that got you here washed away with the rain of the storm that you had created. He had weathered it with you and kept you safe even when you felt like you were drowning. 

“Was just missing you. I love you, Jihoon.” 

Closing his eyes, Jihoon shakes his head and sighs tiredly as you kiss his jaw. He was never going to get tired of hearing that.

“I love you too, honey.” 

© onlymingyus - all rights reserved. Reposting/modifying of any fic, or pieces of original writings posted on this blog is not allowed. Translations not allowed.

[risuola]

YOU CRYIN'? pt. 2 — F. READER x GOJO SATORU

So... it happened, you and your frenemy of ten years fucked and now, you have to deal with his shenanigans, idiotic pet-names and so. much. touching. The man took teasing you straight to his heart.

cw: smut, little to no plot, unprotected sex, Satoru being his usual teasing self, reader discretion is advised — 1,6k words

» PART ONE

"Fuck you, Gojo."

"Oh my, your mouth is so filthy," the man laughed quietly, squeezing your hip and pressing his hard, muscular body against your back under the guise of reaching for a can of soda that he could have easily grabbed without gluing his dick to your ass. His lips brushed against your ear as he added, "should I punish you for that?"

" Get lost," you snapped, pushing him away with your hips and he chuckled.

"I think I should," his grin widened. "You've been acting like such a brat lately. I wonder why would that be?"

God, how you hated him and his stupid smile. Ten years of knowing each other and still all you could think of when he opened his mouth was to break his damn nose. You thought he couldn't possibly get any more annoying than he already was, but he proved you wrong every time. It's been four months since the two of you had sex for the first time, and somehow that triggered another level of madness that you had to deal with while working with him. Endless supply of idiotic pet names, never-ending sexual innuendos, and so much touching now created the new veil around the usual bickering that has been going on for a decade.

"It's not me acting like a brat. It's you straight-up being an idiot," you scoffed, glancing around the crowded gymnasium at Jujutsu school. It was a special night; students and some teachers from Kyoto were visiting Tokyo, and the only reasonable thing to do was to throw a party to create bonds between the youths and just relax a little without the need for training and fighting. There was a little bit of that, as some of the students just communicate through their fists, but other than that it was almost an ordinary high school party, with dozens of ordered pizzas and fried chicken, snacks and sweets, plastic cups filled with various non-alcoholic drinks, and music blaring through the speakers. There was also a corner where teachers could sit and enjoy some chitchat, but most of the adults were responsible for keeping an eye on things. You were one of those supervisors, and so was Gojo, but of course, the idiot takes everything so lightly.

"So mean," Satoru chuckled again and took a sip of the melon soda straight from the can. "You know, there are other ways to get into my pants than acting up. You could just ask."

There he goes.

"Not everything is about you and your dick," you were that close to growling at him, but forced your composure back in line and your voice down. You wouldn’t want anyone to know about your little affair with him, or whatever the fuck that was. Yea, you fucked him... few times after the first one on his desk, but in your book few quickies wasn't enough to call it a romance. If anything, you felt like you were the teenager in this school, hiding in the various corners only to have some tension off, but damn, Satoru was good at releasing it. There was this thing where he bragged he was good at everything he did and you figured that sex was clearly one of those things.

"No, but since that thought is already in that pretty head of yours, shall we sneak out of here?" he purred, way too close to your ear and his large hand smoothed over the curve of your hip. You took a grip of his wrist, squeezing it with enough force to make him hum with a slight surprise that quickly switched back to his signature grin once you pulled him out of the hall and into the teacher's dormitory. Your door was first, and you unlocked it swiftly with a key, pulling him inside.

"Oh, so we're meeting at your place now?" he teased, but you shoved him against the nearest wall with no delicacy whatsoever.

"Shut up," you muttered, already working on the buttons of his light blue shirt.

"Eager, aren't we?" a chuckle rumbled inside his chest, but his hand betrayed that he wasn't so chill either, with how quickly he began to undress you.

And then, there you were again. Underneath him, in your own bed, leaving scratch marks across his back and shoulders as he's slammed his hips into yours, kissing every sweet and sensitive spot inside of you, burying his cock deep into the velvety heaven time after time. His mouth never parted from your skin, smearing hungry, wet kisses all over it, and you let your hand tangle in his hair as he sucked a spot onto your neck. A low, breathy moan escaped your throat as his movements became sharper, harder, driving you absolutely crazy with every push and pull of his hips.

"You're not gonna cry this time, are you?" he teased; his teeth nipping at the shell of your ear, but you couldn't care less about his taunting when he rolled his hips with such delicious finesse, reaching so deep inside you that your vision was filled with stars.

“Oh, shut up, Gojo,” you mumbled. Heat filled your entire system, every touch of his hands stinging with pleasure and lust, and the temperature rose rapidly as Satoru shattered his own composure.

The intimacy of your apartment unleashed even more wildness in him, he was less cautious about the surroundings, much more playful. All his attention was buried in you, he was vocal, moaning low and purring against your skin and lips. He gave into the surge of ecstasy that pulsed through his veins and the rhythm he set made him lose his mind as your pussy swallowed him whole. So lost in bliss, he didn't care about the bruises his grip on your hip will leave and the marks he sucked into your flesh. The subtle pain it caused only made your head reeling even more into the heated state of euphoria.

Satoru's hand fell between your bodies, quickly finding your clit and massaging circles into it, forcing a moan of his name from your throat. The sound was music to his ears, he wanted it on repeat. Your whole body tensed, pleasure began overtaking you and your orgasm was threatening to explode. You squeezed his bicep, clawing at the hard muscle and your breath stuttered. Gojo knew you were close, with the way your pussy throbbed around him, it was a clear cue and he picked up the pace, determined to bring you over the edge. Your trembling thighs and the desperate hold you had on his shoulders only added fuel to his fire and when your warmth exploded on his cock, leaving creamy white around the base as he pumped you through your orgasm, he felt himself close as well. His name slipped off your tongue like a prayer, whispered so beautifully.

"Look at you, such a good girl," he praised, licking your throat and chasing his own release with ferocity. The searing kisses he planted all over your chest and neck became sloppy and wet, and you felt the curve of his dick hitting your sensitive spots all over again as his thrusts became hurried, rough, and frantic. He collapsed onto his forearm, your plush walls squeezing him hard, and he moaned your name as the final string snapped, releasing the warmth of his load that slicked your insides, filling you so completely to the brim, and the sensation only untangled another knot of ecstasy in your stomach. Second orgasm washed over you, although weaker than the first one, but still overtaking your entire, hypersensitive mind and soul. It was too much, he was too much, too intense, overwhelming.

A satisfied smile stretched his lips, a light laugh escaped them as he rode the high out with slow and languid rolls of his hips. Satoru pulled away and then dropped onto the bed, barely making it to the spot next to you. He found himself lost in a haze of afterglow, but the excitement still surged through his veins. He was still hungry, unsatiated. All of this felt so good, it was almost frightening. And then you went again. And again, giving into the primal impulses and the intoxicating haze of desire and lust. The world outside your room faded into nothingness and only you two mattered. Nothing more than two bodies colliding, breaths intertwining and lips crashing onto one another.

As you lay down, facing each other, both sticky and messy in the aftermath of your adventure, you could feel the adrenaline wearing off, leaving your body sore and exhausted. His grasp remained at your waist, keeping you close to him. It was odd, it felt foreign and wrong to stay in the tender embrace of his arms, to share kisses so soft and intimate, and yet it felt right to be there with him. You let your fingers brush his cheek. Gojo in a state of post-bliss was a blessing to witness. His eyes heavy and hooded but still so blue and beautiful; his hair disheveled with some strands stuck to his forehead and his lips swollen and parted as he breathed slowly through them. His pale complexion still bearing the marks of flush, and there was none of his usual arrogant facade. Gorgeous.

"We're gonna get in so much trouble for leaving the party," you whispered against his lips, and he chuckled lightly. "That old Kyoto prick is gonna get pissed."

"He has no power over me," Satoru responded, stealing another kiss. All his focus was directed on your lips, you were the only thing on his mind right now.

"No one has power over you, Satoru," you smiled, biting his lower lip gently, and he could swear that his nervous system twitched in excitement at the way you spoke his name.

"You seem to have some," he admitted, giving you another peck and with a firm grip, he rose from the mattress with you in his grasp. "Shower. We're disgusting," he joked and you laughed, holding on tight as he made his way to your bathroom.

"Oh yeah, we are."

[eloves-writes]

so it goes…

[coriolanus snow x reader]

desc: part 2 here! as dr gaul’s assistant, you find yourself alone in her laboratory bearing an unpleasant task with her other mentee, coriolanus snow, who you strongly despise. or so it goes … warnings: smut, oral sex (f receiving), slightly public sex, reader is wearing a skirt, think that's it but please lmk if i need to add anything! a/n: thank you so much for all the love on my last fic! and thank you anon for this request, i love and appreciate requests more than you know!!! enjoy this. will for sure write a second chapter if one singlular person expresses interest. mwah mwah mwah ily this work contains mature themes, minors dni

dr gaul’s lab was filled with weird and wonderful (but mostly weird) things. you sat, bored, on your side of the gamemaker’s desk staring at shelves and shelves of creatures of all shapes and sizes with various muttations. according to the clock beside you, it had been 30 minutes since gaul herself had left the room to ‘see to something’. it was often best not to ask questions when things like that happened, but you really wished she would come back soon as your work day technically ended in a few minutes and gaul’s second-favourite mentee came to visit her after hours almost every day. coriolanus snow was not necessarily an unpleasant person, not to you at least, but he was certainly unbearable. he was so up his own ass thinking he was better than everybody else that he failed to realise how much of a pompous twat he was. ‘snow lands on top’. god, those four words were practically all you heard come out of his mouth when he wasn’t sucking up to dr gaul or spewing fake niceties to any authoritative figure who would listen.

as you were thinking about how annoying he is and how pretentious his stupid hairstyle was, the door to the lab was hauled open by the peacekeepers who stood guard outside. thank god gaul was back, you couldn’t wait to get out of here. not that you weren’t grateful for this assistant’s position, because it was a highly coveted role for university students each year and you’d beat them all out for it. even snow. ha. even suck-up snow. fuck. snow.

the tall blond had entered the lab and was walking up to your desk with his usual self-assured smile and red uniform.

“y/n, good evening.”

“snow.”

his pleasant facade dropped for just a moment at your monotonous response.

“where’s dr gaul?”

you passive aggressively put down the pen you had been tapping on the desk.

“i don’t know,” you replied blandly, studying his face like you trying to read his mind. “she left like a half hour ago to ‘see to something’, but she’s not been back. i’d suggest you leave and speak to her tomorrow instead.”

coriolanus pulled a face as if thoroughly surprised that anyone could be anything less than cordial to him. it was a subtle change in expression, but you figured that’s what he was thinking.

“that’s quite alright, y/n,” he smiled mockingly, “i’ll sit right here and wait. nowhere to be tonight.”

“shocker,” you murmured, watching as snow sat in the empty chair opposite you.

the two of you stayed sat at gaul’s desk for almost 10 minutes before either of you said anything else.

“how is the apprenticeship going?” snow asked, trying to fill the awkward silence by feigning interest.

“it’s great. thanks. thrilling, actually. i’m having the time of my life. this is so much fun,” you retorted.

coriolanus raised an eyebrow and shifted in his seat. “you know, every one of gaul’s students wanted this apprenticeship. if you’re not enjoying it, i am more than certain that you could find somebody to fill the role.”

you huffed sarcastically. “oh good try, snow. i’m not giving it up that easily.”

“so i’ve heard,” he muttered.

before you could respond to that, the laboratory doors hauled open again and dr gaul finally returned.

“ah, coriolanus, good,” she welcomed, entering with purpose in her stride. “i have a small ask of the pair of you.”

there was no way in the whole of panem that this would be a ‘small’ ask, coming from her. coriolanus’ eyes widened in apprehension.

“don’t make that face at me, coriolanus snow.”

“sorry.”

“good. i must continue to deal with a situation that has arisen, i need you two to feed chupa before he gets too hungry. that’s all, then you both may leave and i shall see you," you watched her search for a rhyme, "before tomorrow’s eve.”

then she turned to leave, with you and coriolanus pulling faces of horror. ‘chupa’ was a particularly hideous and dangerous looking creature that gaul had advised you, on multiple occasions, to keep your distance from. and now she was asking you to feed him? sometimes it was like she wanted you dead.

“wait a minute,” you said hesitantly. gaul moved only her head to look at you and you regretted opening your mouth immediately. “sorry, dr gaul, you want us,” you motioned to yourself and snow, “to feed that,” you pointed at the cage where the beast appeared to be smirking.

“yes,” she replied plainly. “he will eat anything, but he most likes the small green snakes.”

with that, she left the lab again.

coriolanus looked at you, looked at chupa, then looked back at you. “what the fuck is that?”

you snorted, enjoying seeing him uncomfortable. “do you want to get the snakes, or shall i?”

“you get them,” he spoke quickly. “i don’t like snakes.”

you were suspicious at this apparently strong aversion to the slithering reptiles. perhaps they’d scared him when he was younger, and never shook it off. or perhaps one had bitten him. you imagined him flailing his arms and screaming and it made you chuckle to yourself as you took a jar half-filled with thin, forest green snakes. they weren’t venomous, in fact they were quite amiable and undeserving of being fed to the ugly brute in the cage beside you. regardless, you removed two snakes from the jar and placed it back on the shelf.

coriolanus was keeping his distance, making you do all the work. lazy asshole.

“can you open the cage?” you directed snarkily. he tentatively unfastened the top of the cage, standing closer to you than he ever had before. up close, he looked like a real person. a real person who was just as real as everybody else in the capitol, not any better. he smelt better than a lot of them though. like cologne and fresh roses. you mentally chastised yourself for noticing and tried to focus on the task at hand.

your snake-holding hand slid towards chupa’s mouth, which opened to reveal a large set of sharp fangs that seemed to be moving upwards

“be careful of the fangs,” snow warned from behind you.

“thank you coriolanus, i’m so glad you told me that. i was truly about to stick my fingers into his mouth,” you retorted sarcastically, starting to feed the snakes to the disgusting creature.

he mumbled something incoherent that sounded something like “i wish you would.”

“sorry what was that, snow? did you say something,” you asked, becoming more irritated by his unhelpful presence.

as chupa finished the tail of the second snake, he bit the air above him in an attempt to get your hand for dessert, making you rapidly withdraw your hand from the cage and leap backwards. coriolanus dropped the lid in shock and it thankfully fastened itself.

when you had leapt backwards, you had leapt backwards straight into snow’s arms that he had instinctively wrapped around you in protection. his arms were stronger than they looked through his uniform jacket, and his chest much more toned. it felt beyond strange to be this close to him. but something deep inside of you suddenly yearned to be closer, and you slowly rotated yourself in his arms to face him, hands pressed against his chest.

coriolanus was looking into your eyes like nothing else was in the room. like he had never seen a person’s eyes this close before. he was looking at you like you were most incredibly fascinating thing he had ever seen.

and maybe you were; he had grown used to the capitol women throwing themselves at him. he didn’t struggle to take them home, had no issues finding a date to all the various events he attended. then there you were- snapping at him and poking fun at him, and not even waiting until his back was turned to roll your eyes or pull faces. in what he deemed a cruel twist of fate, you were the only girl in the capitol who didn’t look at him like he was god, and you were the only girl in the capitol he truly felt something deeper than momentary lust for.

his lust for you was not momentary. it was perpetual. and having you this close to him, safe and protected in his arms, confirmed for him that you needed to be his. the world bent to the will of coriolanus snow. and so would you.

in an instant where your body no longer obeyed your better judgment, you pressed your lips to coriolanus’.

he kissed you back like you were a source of oxygen, using his advantageous hold of you to force you to walk backwards towards the rows of bookshelves behind gaul’s desk without separating your lips. he swiftly checked the door to make sure nobody had snuck in before your bodies were eclipsed by the cover of the well-stocked shelves and you were roughly pushed up against them. snow continued to kiss you, moving down to your neck to leave marks sure to raise questions the next morning, then down to your collarbone, unbuttoning your blouse as he went so that his path was clear to mark you with his mouth all the way down to the waistband of your skirt. his kneeled down before you and pushed up your skirt, looking up at you for approval. you nodded, still caught up in the moment. this was fine. this felt good. it really felt good when snow removed your panties and placed your legs over his shoulders, holding you up at the waist and running his tongue along your folds, earning a loud moan from you. he withdrew his head from you skirt to shush you, before returning his tongue to your centre and flicking it against your clit. you bit onto your knuckle to absorb the sound of the whimpers escaping you. where the fuck had he learned to do this? it felt heavenly, his mouth drawing you ever closer to release with his large hands digging into your hips to keep you in position.

“coryo,” you whispered. “coryo, i’m close.”

he began to hum in acknowledgement, sending you right over the edge. a moan slipped from your mouth as you came, feeling your slick drip onto his face. he continued to lap at your juices as you rode out your orgasm, a blissful haze washing over you. if these were the skills making snow so cocky, you couldn’t fault him for that particular trait any longer. he lifted his head and smiled at you like a man who was very aware you’d just cum on his face by his manipulation. he helped you take your legs from his shoulders with a satisfied smirk when they wobbled under the weight of your body, then he kissed you again, softer this time, to force you to taste yourself on his tongue. you reached your hand forward to his crotch, palming him through his constricting pants. he indulged you for a minute, then removed your hand and lifted it to his lips like a true gentlemen.

you felt a little disappointed to not repay the favour, finally feeling content with your formerly repressed lust for the man.

but then he leaned down to your ear and whispered in a low tone, “you can owe me one,” before giving you one last lewd kiss and leaving you stood behind the bookshelves in the head gamemaker’s office with messed up hair and a realisation that you really wanted coriolanus snow to come and visit after hours again tomorrow.

[sweeterelease]

regulus needs someone to kiss. pandora got him into this stupid muggle romance novel and while he can admit it's good writing, all the kissing going on inevitable makes him remember his past experiences, experience. he can't get his brain to stop comparing every affectionate scene with the three-way incident he had with barty and evan in third year. it wasn't even a kiss for merlin's sake, just awkward lips and cheeks pressing against each other, honestly, what were they thinking?

anyway, now he can't help the memory coming back whenever the male lead grabs his partner's face in his hands, it's actually a problem. so he'll listen to dorcas' just kiss someone else, that way those bastards won't be your only reference. dorcas is always right, maybe it could work. the issue now is where in earth does he get someone to kiss him?

he'll figure it out tomorrow. now, dinner is ready and he'll do pretty much anything to get his mind off the book’s happenings for a bit. regulus came in later than usual, the great hall is filled and it's kind of hard to walk through the sea of people, so he bumps into someone's back. shit, a gryffindo— oh hi reg, are you looking for sirius?

regulus stares into james potters' eyes, the boyish grin, he ponders. do the cons outdo the pros in this situation? would the consequences be worth it? hmm. james calls his name a second time and waits patiently, after a couple of seconds without response his eyes wander around nervously.

would you like to kiss me? he finds himself asking, in the middle of a crowded room, with his friends waiting for him at his house's table and his older brother looking at him curiously from across the hall.

james blinks once, twice, three and four times. he clears his throat and sorry, don't think i caught that right? it sounds out of breath, regulus can't tell if it's a good or bad sign.

regulus repeats himself, not sure what's so difficult about a yes or no answer. he continues with i need, um— experience, regulus feels a growing blush at that, definitely not a good sign.

experience. james calls, it's then when regulus catches the deep crimson around the older's cheeks, nose, neck? merlin, it's everywhere. is it really that embarrassing to be asked for a kiss by regulus? well then.

right. i apologize for asking that was— hands wrap around regulus' neck to pull him up. he can't do much but melt into james' embrace and take his kiss.

regulus blinks, he expected james to kiss like he does pretty much anything else, big, loud, unapologetic, and without holding back. but this kiss is tender, a tentative brush of the lips, almost fragile, and he holds regulus like he's made out of glass, like he's sad it has to end. frankly, it's sweet.

james pulls back and stares into regulus eyes, searching. he's shaking, regulus notices, and it takes until his feet meet the ground again to recover from whatever spell this man has put him through, actually— he's not sure it's over quite yet.

was that 'experience' enough? james rasps, brown eyes now glued to regulus' lips. he snakes both hands up the taller's back to mirror the ones still holding his jaw, relishing in the shivers he feels erupting. regulus stares into james potters' eyes again, the slightly bruised lips, he ponders.

no.

[trippinsorrows]

without you + one

authors note: hi, friends! so this is a foundational first chapter, meaning its intended to lay down a blueprint. there may or may not be some foreshadowing.....

but let me just say this. i have no intentions on drastically changing anyone's characterization from book one. e.g. joe has always only had eyes for reader. that won't change. he's all about his family.

do not read this story if you haven't read 'with me'. it won't work as a standalone.

warnings: language, some angst, fluff, and suggestive themes

song inspo: be without you by mary j. blige

words: 5k

Two weeks.

It’s been two weeks since your life was forever changed in a night of pure magic.

Two weeks since the love of your life proposed to you in the most beautiful way in the most beautiful place on earth surrounded by the most beautiful people.

Just thinking about it still brings on chills and goosebumps. It might just be one of the happiest nights of your life. 

And even returning home, being with your family, enjoying your pregnancy has continued on the theme of love and contentment. 

It’s almost nearly perfect except for one little thing. One tiny little human you just so happened to have created who seems to think that she has first dibs on a certain fiancé of yours at any given point and time.

Callie has been loving every single second of Joe being home on indefinite leave, and while you’re happy for her, happy for him that they have the time to spend together, it’s like she wants to spend all of her time with Joe.

And that’s fine, except for the fact it’s like she doesn’t want you around at all.

They’re playing tea party and she hits you with the, “mommy, it’s for daddies only.”

He’s having her help him cook, and she hits you with, “mommy, you can’t cook.”

She’s suckered him into watching Moana with her for the 18th time, and she hits you with, “mommy, I wanna watch it with daddy.”

Sis is beyond possessive. It’s gotten to the point where you almost feel jealous of your own damn child. An absolutely asinine thing to think, let alone feel.

It’s why when Joe jogs down the steps after getting her down for her nap, you grab him by his shirt and yank him into the office. 

He’s understandably confused. “Y/N, what the hell?”

You bring your finger to his mouth, silencing him. “Not so loud. You’ll wake her up.”

“And?”

Lord, Jesus. This may be harder than you thought. “And she needs her sleep, and we need time to talk.”

That seems to help him reason a bit better. “Okay.”

Pouting, you take him by surprise, shuffling into his chest as his arms naturally move around you. “I miss you.”

He chuckles, kissing the top of your head. “I’ve been here, baby.”

“You know what I mean.” Pulling back, he brushes his thumb across your bottom lip. “I miss spending time with you. Just the two of us.” Realizing how that could sound, you quickly clarify. “Don’t get me wrong, I love seeing you spend so much time with Callie, and obviously, she loves it too. But your lil’ bodyguard doesn’t seem to want mama to have any time alone with daddy.” 

And it’s the truth. It fills your heart with so much joy to see the beautiful bond and relationship they’ve developed in not even a year. They’re inseparable. 

But that doesn’t negate the fact that you miss spending time with him too.

“And we haven’t had sex since in over a week. A week, Joe. I can’t go that long without your dick. You know this.” He smiles, big hand laying on your baby bump. Like this shit is funny. Like it’s amusing that you’re going through dickdrawl. “That’s not funny, you asshole. If I have to make myself come one more time instead of you, I might just lose my shit.”

“I get it,” he finally shares, hand moving along the small of your back. “I miss you too. Miss my pussy…”

His voice drawls into something teasing, and it makes your pussy flutter. See, just his voice alone has you feening. Groaning, you mutter, while trying to settle yourself, “and it doesn’t help that she’s been sleeping with us.”

Calista is only four-years-old, so it’s natural for her to want to sleep with you and Joe. And you don’t mind that, don’t mind giving her that comfort. It’s just that it’s been every night since you returned from Disney. Not only that, when Joe gets up, she likes to get up. Even to the point where he'll just be working out in the gym, and she still wants to be around him, sitting on the floor talking to him or just playing on her tablet.

She’s even fallen asleep one time in the gym, with him having to stop his workout to bring her to her bed that she woke up from and managed to scamper her cute self right back into bed with you.

It’s just been…..a lot in some ways.

He nods, suddenly suggesting, “maybe we can try talking to her.”

“And what are we supposed to tell her, huh?” You’re legitimately all ears for any recommendations on how to word it. “Callie Bear, you’re spending too much time with your daddy.” Even saying it in a mocking tone feels wrong, giving you a sort of itch. “I’m not trying to have our child in therapy because of shit we caused her.”

“And you say I’m dramatic.” He rolls his eyes, emphasizing his point. “She’s a smart kid. I think if we just talk with her about how we have to share time with each other—”

“Ha. Share. That’s funny. That girl don’t wanna share you with air, let alone another human being.” It’s a partial joke, partial truth. A frown suddenly falls on your face as you think this over more. “You think something’s going on with her?” 

If you didn’t have his attention before, you definitely have it now. “What do you mean?”

Shrugging, you do your best to explain what you don’t quite fully understand. “I don’t know. She’s always been super attached to you, but it’s been more intense lately. Like she’s holding on even tighter. Like—”

“Like she’s scared to let go,” he finishes for you, deep voice settling into something almost despondent. “You think she’s scared I’m gonna leave or something?”

It’s a bit of a stretch but also something you can’t entirely rule out. “Maybe.” With a new sort of determination, you advise. “You’re right. We do need to talk to her.” And for completely different reasons than when you first dragged him in for that conversation. You just want to make sure your baby girl is okay.

That’s the only thing that matters.

On the topic of Callie, you’re reminded of something. “Oh my god.” Gasping, you move away from him. “I didn’t get a chance to show you.”

Curious, he asks, “show me what?”

You reach for his hand, walking over to the desk that’s almost entirely done with being set up and open the first drawer. Grabbing the still unopened envelope, you reach it to him, a small smile on your face. “I wanted to let you open it.”

Joe is understandably confused until he flips the envelope over and sees the sender. His expression immediately softens. “Is this—”

Nodding, you share, “it came in the mail yesterday, but it just slipped my mind to tell you.” He doesn’t say anything, instead focused on opening the envelope as he carefully pulls out the certificate.

Callie’s new and updated birth certificate. 

Moving closer to him, you snuggle yourself into his chest as he uses one hand to open and read the document you two have been waiting on for nearly a month now. Everything has stayed the same except for one section, that one section bringing on all of the feels for him. For both of you. 

Father/Parent’s Name.

The section that was once blank now reads in printed, black, unerasable ink: Leati Joseph Anoa'i. 

You can just feel the immense love and happiness emanating off his big being. He doesn’t need a piece of paper to tell him that he’s Callie’s father. You know that. But this is the piece of paper that gives him all the legal rights as Callie’s father, the rights he should have had from the very beginning. 

Holding onto him just a little tighter, loving him a little harder, you murmur against his chest, “now it’s always as it should have been.”

—---------

“I’m thinking strippers. One on each side of the aisle. Shawty throwing ass to the left, and shawty shaking titties on the right.”

Any conversation with Alexis is bound to venture into the deepest parts of fuckery, but this has to be a new level. “You want me to have strippers at my wedding?”

She’s looking at you like she can’t understand what’s so crazy about her proposal. “Yeah, what’s wrong with that?”

Eyes widening, you lean over the counter that’s littered with countless bride magazines and her Macbook Air. “It’s my wedding, Lex.”

“And?” She shakes her head, stirring some of her chocolate pudding. “You love strippers.”

“I do, but that doesn’t mean I want them at my wedding.”

She’s rolling her eyes, flipping her hair over her shoulder as she murmurs, “if you wanted to have a boring ass white people type wedding, you should have just said that.”

You laugh. Wedding planning was always something you imagined doing with your closest friends, and while you’re thankful to have Alexis here as your support and interim wedding planner (because you’re still very much on the fence about that), her tendency to do the most is definitely obscuring her view of logic and what makes sense.”

“I don’t want a white people wedding, per se. I just don’t want anything too crazy.” That’s the best description you can give, because this is all so new to you. You naturally play with the stunning engagement ring on your finger. Part of that confusion is because you’re still a bit stuck on the fact that you’re actually engaged.

To the literal love of your life, at that.

A dream that’s become a reality.

It still feels a little too good to be true.

“Fair, I guess.” She doesn’t seem to agree that it’s fair but won’t push either. “Well, have you at least thought about where you want to get married?”

That, you actually have. Once upon a time, it was in your hometown. Now, you’d rather not get married at all if that was your only option. “I’m thinking here.”

“Florida?” You nod. “Wow. Okay, any particular reason why?”

Shrugging, you answer, grabbing a chunk of pineapple from your fruit bowl. “I don’t know. Joe’s family is already here. It’s easy for my mom to catch a flight out. And anyone else I’d like to attend would have to fly here too anyway. Plus, this place is really beautiful.”

The fact that life has only been up since moving here to be with Joe is a major plus too. But, that doesn’t necessarily feel like it needs to be outright stated.

“Got it.” She starts typing on her laptop, and you have no doubt she’s already created a Google Doc to track everything. It’s one of many things you love about Alexis. She may be crazy as hell, but when she’s on it, she’s on it. “Now, the biggest thing, maybe the most important thing, is gonna be the date.”

“Date?”

She nods, “yeah, like when you want to have the wedding.” 

Fuck. As silly as it may sound, you hadn’t even thought about that. Still so caught up in the high of actually being engaged to your soulmate. 

Alexis continues, “I’m guessing after the school arrives.”

You roll your eyes. “What did I tell you about calling them that?” 

“Okay, the brood.”

“Alexis!”

She throws her hands up. “Don’t get mad at me cause the freaks freaked too much and now ya’ll starting your own little tribe.”

A heavy sigh leaves your mouth as Alexis continues to go in on you over your multiples pregnancy. For the most part, you’ve really come to accept and be okay with it. There are times though where your mind gravitates toward the childbirth portion, and your vagina literally starts to ache at just the thought of that trauma. 

Shaking your head and pushing away those thoughts, you return to the conversation at hand. “That’s a good point. I don’t want to walk down the aisle big and pregnant.”

“Exactly.” She types some more. “When is Joe going back to work?” Another great question that you don’t have the answer for. “Oh my god, Y/N, girl, just what do you know?”

“He just said it was indefinite leave!” You throw out in defense of your lack of knowledge. “Definitely not before the babies get here, so after September?”

“And you know he’s not gonna leave you alone with three newborns to take care of, so I can see him staying off air for at least a couple more months.”

That makes sense. “But, he’ll have to be back in time for WrestleMania, I’d imagine.”

“Most definitely. Didn’t you see that one promo he did? Roman Reigns is WrestleMania.” A smile falls on your face. You most definitely did see that promo. It’s one of your favorites that he’s cut. “But the next one isn’t until April, I think.”

“So maybe January?” The smile shifts into a scowl. “He can’t be gone that long though. The fans would lose it.” Thinking back to the Smackdown clips you saw on social media, you point out, “they’re already chanting ‘we want Roman.’”

It’s a bit bittersweet seeing Smakdown clips without Roman, seeing someone else hold his championship belt. But then you think about what that sacrifice gave you, what Joe giving up his title has awarded you, and it takes away some of the sting of it all.

You also feel a bit better knowing Joe is still playing an active role in the Bloodline, just behind the scenes. 

She sucks her teeth. “Ain’t that about a bitch? They fake asses acting like they weren’t the main ones wanting Cody to finish the story.” Alexis' borderline anger makes you laugh a little. “Oooh, Joe nice, cause the way I would give them the middle finger, retire, and live out my life with my fine ass wife and 12 children.”

Your eyes widen. “Don’t even put that out there, please.” You've definitely learned now about the power of the tongue. “If I was carrying any more than three children, I might just die.”

“Naw. Childbirth would do that for you.”

“Alexis!”

“Shit, sorry, too dark?” Lord, this girl really has no filter sometimes. “Do you guys want more kids after this? Like, forreal?”

Alexis, despite all of her shenanigans, seems to be on point with the questions. “I don’t know—”

“You don’t know?” That seems to be the answer that actually has her floored the most out of anything else ya’ll have discussed this afternoon thus far. “Bitch, this man put three children in you. Three. You really trying to risk that happening again?”

“Of course not. I just—I don’t know. I don’t think I can really answer that right now. Maybe once we learn the sexes, cause what if they’re all girls?” The likelihood of that happening has to be slim to none, but just like multiples of this quantity can be an anomaly, so can all of one sex. “I want to give him a son.”

Truthfully, you’re praying hard that at least one of them is a boy. You know Joe will love the kids the same. Fully and without inhibition, regardless of sex. But, not only do you want to have a little boy for your own reasons, but being able to continue on Joe’s lineage, maybe even passing down his name to your son would mean even more.

Of course, Alexis is quick with the dumbass suggestion. “Make one of them a tomboy.”

You close your eyes, forcefully stabbing the next chunk of pineapple. “Alexis, I swear to God.”

She leans back in her seat, adjusting her top. “All I know is if you think I’m babysitting four kids, you are sadly mistaken. I’ll take care of my little Cal Gal, but these other newbies are gonna have to prove themselves.”

“Newbies? They’re gonna be literal babies, Lex.”

“And? My beef is rated E for everyone, newborn babies included.”

Lord, this woman is giving you a headache. “I guess there’s a lot I still need to discuss with Joe first before we actually get into planning.”

“Agreed.” It’s a conversation you’re almost not looking forward to simply for the mere fact you don’t want to start thinking too much about Joe’s leave ending. Just wanna enjoy the here and now. But, you know it’s something that needs to be done. “Make sure to ask him about the strippers too.”

“Alexis!”

—-------

As he has almost every day since the start of his vacation, Joe handles dinner for you and Callie. Well, mostly you, since little Ms. ma’am insists upon helping Joe cook, and he insists upon you resting when you make the mistake of telling him you’re experiencing heartburn. It’s a common symptom given you’re about two weeks away from hitting four months and something you experienced when you were pregnant with Callie.

However, he takes all necessary, or maybe, unnecessary precautions, having you sit and rest in the living room, watching some random station while he works in unison with your firstborn to prepare dinner. 

He makes grilled fish with a side of rice and broccoli for the vegetable. It makes you laugh every time he encourages and tries to convince Callie that she needs to eat her veggies or else she’ll never grow. Sis looks like she doesn’t entirely believe him but takes the plunge anyhow. Plus, better him than you trying to convince her.

You’ll let him take that battle gladly.

And while he cleans up the kitchen, handles putting all the leftover food away, you tackle Callie’s nighttime routine, specifically her bubble bath, hygiene, and hair. Her bath takes a little longer than usual, somewhat because of your bump, but mostly because with her new disney princess themed bedroom came an attached disney princess themed bathroom. This includes a shit ton of bubble bath additives that any kid would love, many of which she suckered her daddy into buying during your Disney trip.

You don’t even want to know how much that man spent on Callie in that one week timespan. It seemed like everything she saw she wanted, and he wasted no time in pulling out his black card, buying it for her.

You can only pray she remains sweet and humble with a daddy like Joe who’s seemingly hellbent on spoiling her rotten. 

Getting her in her pajamas and securing her bonnet over her head after putting her curls into a pineapple is the easy part, and she’s nearly bursting at the seams to get out the bathroom door for a reason you already know and don’t need to ask. 

Cause as soon as you’re done, she’s like a speeding bullet, rushing out her bathroom and room, straight into yours.

“Daddy?”

By the time you get everything back and put away, she’s found her target. Joe is sitting on your bed, Callie tucked into his side with her chosen bedtime book in hand. She surprises you though when she looks up and smiles brightly. “You can come too, mommy.”

This has to be your first invite in at least a week, and it makes you genuinely smile as well. 

“Thank you, baby.” There’s not an ounce of hesitation as you move over to the other side of the bed, climbing in with them. A brief shared look with Joe gives you the signal you need to jumpstart the conversation you’ve been thinking about all day. “Callie, daddy and I actually wanna talk to you about something.”

Instantly, she’s frowning, pouting almost as she snuggles closer into Joe’s chest. “I don’t want to talk.”

This makes you frown, as Joe also looks taken back by her response. He rubs gentle circles along her back. “Callie Bear, what’s going on with you?”

You pick up on her hesitant reply the same way you’re sure Joe does. “Nothing.”

Placing a comforting hand on her arm, you softly point out some of the things that have led to this conversation. “Calista, I’ve noticed you’ve been spending a lot of time with daddy. And you sometimes don’t even want me to spend time with ya’ll.” Licking your lips, you do your best to keep your voice as calm and soothing as possible. “Are you…are you maybe scared about something?”

And it’s when she looks at you for a second, that fear flashing in her eyes, you know that’s what it is. Something has her nervous.

Hating that something is bothering her and especially that she’s keeping it in, you whisper, “Please tell us, baby.”

And it’s Joe holding her a little tighter along with your gentle coaxing that seems to do it, seems to break down that wall that hides her truth. She sniffles, “I don’t want daddy to leave again.”

“Calista…” You hate seeing her so sad, but you especially hate seeing and hearing the pain in Joe’s face and voice at the fact that he’s indirectly the reason for her sadness. “Baby girl, I’m not going anywhere right now, remember? I’m staying here with you and mommy.” 

You’re thankful he doesn’t really highlight the fact that he will eventually have to go back to work. Callie isn’t stupid. She knows this, but it’s not what she needs to hear right now.

And your chest tightens as she sadly points out to Joe a trauma you still haven’t had the space to fully process. “But those people took me from mommy, and I couldn’t see her.” Eyes glossing over, it breaks your heart to hear that she still thinks about that. That being separated from you the way she was is still impacting her. “What if they take me and I can’t see you or mommy?” She adds on in a way that twists the dagger in your chest, “or they make you leave me like they made mommy leave me?”

At that, he pulls her onto his lap, carefully lifting her chin to make her look at him. “Calista, listen to me, sweetheart. No one could ever take you away from me or your mom. Ever.” He speaks with such conviction and determination. He needs her to believe what she’s saying. You both do. “You’re our little girl.”

“He’s right. I know…I know that scared you, but your daddy and I aren’t going anywhere. We promise.” Reaching over to cup her face, you ask in a way that’s more telling than questioning. “That’s why you’ve been wanting to sleep with us.”

She nods, quietly explaining. “I don’t want you to be gone when I wake up.”

“Oh, baby.” you reach for her and she climbs over to you, hugging you tight, head against your chest. “Daddy and I are gonna be here for you, always, okay? No matter what.” Chuckling a bit, you wipe the tears from her eyes. “Even when you’re all grown up and don’t need us anymore.”

She looks between ya’ll, almost wide eyed. “Noooo.” She reaches for Joe who moves closer to the two of you. “You’re my mommy and daddy. I’ll always need my mommy and daddy.”

Her innocence warms your heart. You love this little girl so much. More than words.

“We love you, Callie.” Joe kisses her forehead as she holds onto his arm. 

“I love you guys too.” Her voice is less laid down with that big weight she was carrying around, and it makes you happy to know she feels a bit better, a bit more secure. “Can–can I still sleep with you guys tonight?”

“Of course, baby.” The answer is easy. Knowing now why she’s wanted to stay so close, it would feel almost cruel to deprive her of that comfort. “Of course you can.”

—-------

Megan Lowery is having a shit day.

Beyond a shit day, really.

The first issue being that her stupid alarm didn’t go off. A classic nuisance that almost everyone has experienced at one point or another. 

Except for her.

She’s never had her good old faithful iPhone alarm not get her up in time to tackle the day, until this morning, which has since only gravitated from bad to worse.

Because of course her coffee machine decided to act up. Any other time, she’d have zero issue brewing her morning cup of Joe, but not this morning. No, this morning she was forced to forgo her addiction of almost twenty years nor did she have the time to stop and buy a cup due to already running late because of her dumbass alarm glitching.

And the shitty day couldn’t be completed without some asshole bumping into her and spilling their deliciously smelling coffee all over her Free People blouse.

Put plain and simple, it’s a bad day, and she’s already over it before it even hits 1pm.

It’s why she sits in her meeting, doodling on her legal pad instead of listening to what probably could have been an email.

“Lowery!”

Megan jumps in her seat, eyes scanning the room of coworkers who sit watching her carefully. She clears her throat. “Sir?”

Luke, her boss, crosses his arms. “Am I boring you?”

Yes. “No sir, of course not.”

“I think I am.” Megan has never liked Luke. A product of nepotism, his father created the casting company she works for back in the eighties where he grew it to the major success it is today, only to pass it down to his son a few years ago after ailing health. And while Luke isn’t a bad CEO, per se, he’s not the funny, down to earth type like his old man.

No. The man is a Grade A asshole sometimes.

And this seems to be one of those times.

“Then what was I discussing?”

Fuck. Megan has always hated looking stupid, and she’s usually pretty good at both paying and not paying attention. But without her coffee, it’s damn near impossible to achieve that feat.

“Actually, sir, Megan was just whispering some ideas to me for how we can get Reigns to sign on.”

Megan shoots a vicious look to her work bestie, Paige. She smiles, her perfectly white teeth a stark contrast to her tanned, freckled complexion. “She’s got some great ideas too.”

Luke is smirking, and she knows that he knows Paige is blowing air up his ass. That doesn’t stop him from having his fun though. “Perfect, then I suppose you won’t have any issues taking on the assignment.”

Megan swallows. She doesn’t even know what this assignment is. But the thought of letting her asshole boss get one over on her literally makes her nauseous. With a steel smile, she accepts, “Of course not.” 

“Perfect.” He smirks. She has to stop herself from rolling her eyes. Smug bastard. “I’ll forward you the file and contact information for his reps.” Luke looks around at the rest of the employees. “Meeting is over.”

As everyone empties out, Luke being the first, Megan waits impatiently for everyone to depart before turning to Paige and punching her on her arm.

“Ow!”

“What the hell?” She hates being put in situations where she has no idea what’s going on, and this just so happens to be one of them. “What did you just get me into?”

“You could just say thank you for saving my ass, you wonderful goddess.” Paige adjusts her glasses and opens her laptop, typing away before sharing her screen with Megan. “This is what you’re getting into.”

Megan is still annoyed as her eyes land on the screen, but that irritation easily drifts away when she sees who is on the screen. “Holy shit, that’s Roman Reigns.”

“Duh.” Paige says with all the sass, explaining. “Universal wants him for an upcoming film they’re doing, but WWE just announced he’s taking an indefinite hiatus, so it might be a hard sell.” 

Paige, of course, selected a photo of the former champ in the ring, shirtless, hair down. Looking literally like the Gods put all of their talent into one pot and poured out him. Megan then asks, “why is he on hiatus?”

“That’s the sad part.” Paige does some typing and pulls up an article. She points to the several headlines that all say the same thing just in different ways. 

He’s engaged. 

“I swear, all the good ones are taken.” Paige pouts. “There was actually some drama he was in a couple weeks ago but it’s all died down now, I think. I’ll have to send you the tea. Nevertheless, he’s engaged and expecting another child with his now fiancé.”

Megan clicks on one of the articles that show Roman and who she’d guess is the fiancé. A frown falls on her face. “Seriously? Her? He could have done way better.” Exceptionally. Megan could never see someone like him, body sculpted by Zeus himself, with someone like her who looks like she’s never even seen the inside of a gym.

“Regardless, that’s his lady, and they already have one kid together, so he’s really off-limits.” Paige shrugs, closing her laptop. “Thankfully, all you need to do is get him to agree to do this film.” She snorts. “Baby on the way, planning a wedding, how hard can that be?”

Megan rolls her eyes and flips off Paige who laughs while standing up. “Wanna go get lunch? My treat.”

Shaking her head, Megan politely declines. “No thanks. I’ve got a few emails I’ve gotta get caught up on. Raincheck?”

“You bet.” Paige winks and walks out, closing the door behind her to leave Megan alone with her many thoughts.

Paige is right. It’s going to be a challenge to get Roman to sign onto this film when he has so much going on in his personal life. Some might even see it as DOA. Megan, however, has always been intrigued by challenges. She’s never encountered a situation where she didn’t get what she wanted. Where she didn’t get who she wanted.

On a film.

Of course.

Pulling out her phone, she googles his name, scowling when one of the first photos is of him and the fiancé and their kid, she’d guess. She easily pinches on said photo, eliminating them and filling her screen with only him.

Head tilted, twirling a piece of her hair, she says to no one in particular. “You and I are about to be very good friends, Mr. Reigns….”

[kquil]

DIVORCING ORION BLACK | CHAPTER FOUR

04 : BEGINNINGS

CHPT. SUM. : beginning new things is always fun. getting to know your sons, them finally being able to experience having a loving mother, sirius going to school, and you planning for everything that was yet to come so that everyone gets to the happy ending they deserve. 

LENGTH : 11.8k

TAGS : domestic fluff ; orion being a bad father ; original walburga being a nuisance ; reader being an amazing mother and an amazing cook ; regulus has food preferences ; brotherhood between sirius and regulus ; marauders spotted in the wild ; sirius and regulus being precious babies ; reader disrespecting walburga ; mentions of infertility ; mentions of divorce ; lots of future planning

← PREV. 03 : SHOPPING (2/2) | SERIES M.LIST

9th August 1971 

It, surprisingly, took very little to get past Orion on the topic of changing Sirius and Regulus’ private tutors. However, when you truly looked at his workaholic tendencies, your initial surprise should have been the more startling reaction — of course, he wouldn’t care, he’s too fixated on the happenings with his position on the Wizengamot to be aware of much else, discounting the protective wards he put up around the property. Nevertheless, it was good news for you and your boys. Finally, they would be getting more suitable tutors, who catered to their learning needs in a more digestible way. You had only recently sent out the notice, though, so you don’t expect many replies to be coming in soon. Your only wish was to have fallen into this universe sooner, that way you would have had more time with Sirius before he left to attend Hogwarts as a first year. 

Walburga didn’t have a formal occupation other than monitor her boys so having Sirius leave for his first year would mean less work for her and, subsequently, you. However, it’s not as if she needed the money; she’s the matriarch of an incredibly privileged family, meaning that her financial worries are close to non-existent. Both, the affluent family fortune and her lack of professional ambitions have you stumped, it’s something you’re not used to at all. Perhaps that’s why she’s so obsessed with control and the activity of her two sons; it’s not healthy and you don’t even want to attempt to understand what she was thinking—

“Of course you won’t!” Walburga snarls from the depths of your consciousness, her tone dripping with malice and a hint of something sinister. “I don’t expect someone who failed at becoming a mother to understand the right and true tribulations of bringing up children,” 

“…how did you know that?” you ask aloud, no longer satisfied with simply trying to call for the bitch - Walburga’s - attention in your head. She didn’t seem to want to reply, which only made your blood boil; her prolonged silence, the trigger to releasing your rapidly escalating rage.  How dare she?! How dare she strike you where it hurts the most, only to turn completely unresponsive when you demand answers, “Answer me!”  Thick tensions fill the room when she does not answer, the silence suffocating and poisonous. Taking a slow, deep breath, you engage control over your anxious heart and trembling hands once more. 

Work. You need work. Something to focus on so that you don’t dwell on memories that will only bring you heartache. It worked before so it’ll work for you now. It had worked so well, in fact, that you were able to build an empire out of it, perhaps you could replicate the same results this time. 

“Screw you then, ugly pig, I have more important matters to attend to anyway,” pulling out a drawer, you scatter your notes across the desk and move with fretful fever but, also, enthusiasm above them. No matter the change of environment, you can always trust in your habits to push you forward. Walburga mainly worked on keeping the boys in line as the official matriarch of the Black household but that’s all her world revolved around, she had no hobbies or any close friends other than her relatives whom she communicated with, somewhat, regularly. With a guilty ache in your chest, you kept a gradually growing stack of letters in the bottom-most drawer of the hard oak desk, not yet knowing how to respond to people you barely knew. However, you suppose their relations to a character like Walburaga make it slightly easier to ignore their communications. The affiliation doesn’t warrant your precious time. If you could send a passive-aggressive email, you might be more willing, but the extended process of having to write out the letters and then send them via owl wasn’t worthwhile. 

The priority on your list of important affairs is ensuring your boys’ happy and safe future. Sirius will not have to choose between Regulus and his friends, he will not suffer being blasted off the family tree, he will not have to be ashamed of his family, he will not have to witness his close friend’s death through another’s betrayal, and he will not be forced to go to Azkaban. Similarly, Regulus will not have to suffer Sirius abandoning him, he will not have to face his prejudicial parents alone, he will not be forced into getting the dark mark, he will not have to make the sacrifice he had to make at such a young age, he will not die a miserable and lonely death, and he will not be forgotten! You will make sure of it. 

Coming into the world as a Harry Potter and Marauders fan, you’re well-equipped with all the knowledge required to make the right decisions. The only problem is that the Marauders era has been a largely vague timeline that most of the fandom filled in for themselves so you’ll have to tread carefully. This will require meticulous planning, a steady rise to power and a conglomeration of useful allies to help set your plans into motion. Modern-day knowledge and business etiquette will serve you well here. You’ve survived toxic work environments, won in the race to riches, and dealt with all manner of manipulative, sexist swine you could ever think to encounter. If you play your cards right, you’re sure to win. 

“As if a muggle like you could conquer the wizarding world!” Walburga finally makes her appearance once again. And, of course, it’s for the sake of belittling you whilst making your head throb painfully from her distasteful screeches. 

“Shut up,” you hiss unapologetically, resisting the urge to smirk, “Unlike you, I know the future—” breathing the words aloud brings a blaring, singular thought to the front of your mind. The vision you witnessed at the Owl Emporium replays in your head once more…

How in the world did Walburga know about the biting habit of Sirius’ future owl?… 

Several moments pass achingly slow as you anticipate the aggravating screeching of Walburga to return. When no such wailing occurs or interrupts your train of thought, your mind immediately begins to spiral. 

How could Walburga remember being at the Emporium, shopping for Sirius’ first year at Hogwarts when she had yet to go shopping with him in the first place? They couldn’t have already gone, right? Orion would have said something if they were being inefficient enough to go a second time. That or the boys would have definitely made some comment… 

This felt like an urgent matter that needed your immediate attention but you had to prioritise other things for now. It’s not like the original Walburga was going to give you the answers you needed so it wasn’t any use pressing on the matter. It’s best to turn your focus and efforts elsewhere. Peering back at your scattered notes, you raise your newly acquired wand and utter the crafting spell you had learned recently. 

“Libeligare,” As you wave your wand over the desk, activity springs forth. In a flurry of animated pages and whistling currents in the air, your disordered notes compile themselves appropriately before binding themselves into a fresh notebook. It doesn’t have a hard cover and you debate on transfiguring a decorative letter set piece into one but think against it. This will do nicely for the moment. 

Finally, all your detailed plans are in one place. 

10th August 1971 

With nothing better to do and desperate for a decent meal, you address the home-cooked meals situation. Every dish served at the Black household was so unappetising and bland, that you couldn’t believe that the family was one of the most influential and richest families to exist in the wizarding world. You’re beginning to believe that the Blacks were the type of family to indulge in unpalatable spreads with the reasoning that they refuse to eat the same meals as those lesser than them. How childish. Even in your city-centre penthouse, you ordered take-out frequently and ate ordinary home-cooked meals that were comforting and warm. The memories make you compare all the meals you’ve had in Grimmauld Place and blanch abhorrently. This wouldn’t do, especially for your growing boys. They need to be well-fed so that they grow up healthy and strong. 

“Mistress!” Kreacher shrieks behind you, making you jump and spin around all at once. The hunched-over house elf dashes through the kitchen space clumsily and with much vigour, he pulls painfully at his drooping ears as his eyes bulge out from seeing you, his mistress, the matriarch, in the kitchen cooking! Without magic! 

“Don’t be so dramatic, Kreacher,” you chuckle softly and turn back to your food prep, “I’m just trying to cook an easy breakfast for my boys,” if you could truly have it your way then you would cook enough only for you and your two darling sons to eat. Orion would have to sort his own plate. But you’re not divorced yet so you suppose this is a compromise you’ll have to make. 

“I-It is not mistress’ job, let Kreacher do it—!” the house elf, reaches forward to take the kitchen utensils from you but you’re too swift. 

“I want to cook the food Kreacher,” you argue and continue pottering about the kitchen as if it was just another Tuesday morning, all while Kreacher follows you around helplessly. He’s clearly stuck between letting you have your way or forcing you to let him cook instead. Both felt wrong in different ways considering his position as the house elf, and he was brought to a standstill. The poor guy looked ready to throw himself off a cliff from the indecision and panic.  

Having sympathy for the elf, you call to him over your shoulder, “Kreacher can you please pass me the eggs?” this feels like a good even ground to dance on. Soon enough you’ll be teaching Kreacher how to finally relax. Kreacher appeared happy to finally be doing something but as soon as he hesitantly handed over the eggs, he was back to being anxious all over again. Even though you are the matriarch of the household, you supposed you’ll have to share the kitchen with a very distressed house elf for the foreseeable future. 

For the rest of the morning, you’ve asked Kreacher to help you with crisping up the beacon, cleaning the mushrooms, opening up the can of beans, toasting the bread and laying out the table. No more tasteless, boring porridge for breakfast with no toppings, today you’re serving a Full English. Admiring the spread, you thank Kreacher for his assistance before undoing your apron and putting the finishing touches to the dining table just as the rest of the family make it down for breakfast. 

“What is all this?” Orion asks in slight surprise when catching sight of breakfast for the day, “Is today very important?”

“No,” nonchalance keeps your tone controlled just as your precious babies walk through the door and hop into their designated seats at the table, one more enthusiastic than the other, “I’m just tired of plain old porridge every day,”

“Porridge is delicious,” Orion defends.

“Every day?” from the look in his eyes, you don’t know whether or not you’ve bested him so turn a serene smile his way instead, “I can always ask Kreacher to make you porridge if you really want,” 

Orion takes a moment to observe the full, vibrant plate of bacon, toast, grilled tomatoes, sautéed mushrooms, sausages, black pudding, scrambled eggs and beans. If he takes any longer to play indecisive, the food will get cold and your precious babies are waiting on his dainty, princess-ass to make a decision— can you hurry the fuck up?! you want to scream at him. Every meal is started after his first bite (the pretentious, narcissistic douche) so he needs to make up his mind quickly or else you’ll lose yours waiting around! 

“…it’ll be a waste, this will do,” he finally picks up his knife and fork to begin eating and you have to reign yourself in before you roll your eyes too noticeably at his conceited behaviour. Your babies behave better than him. The prick! 

Turning to your boys, you observe Sirius and Regulus digging into their own meals before finally taking a bite out of yours. It felt good to see their eyes light up like that, especially Sirius’ — it makes you want to giggle at how obviously he had been wanting to devour his beans and toast the instant he laid eyes on them. 

Breakfast continues pleasantly as everyone enjoys their meal until you begin to notice some peculiar movement in the corner of your eye. You try to be as subtle as you can, considering the uncommon calm that has fallen over the dining table; it isn’t usually this comfortable around the table so you wanted to preserve the ambience as much as possible. The source of your curious gaze was Sirius and Regulus. 

Covertly, Regulus sneaks spoonfuls of his scrambled eggs onto Sirius’ plate, who proceeds to eat up his younger brother’s share as quickly as possible. Regulus was doing this willingly despite this morning’s breakfast being the first appetising meal he’s had yet. It won’t be the last either. However, from the way Sirius is scarfing down the food whilst trying to remain as silent as possible, it wouldn’t be surprising if Sirius eventually suffers from a stomachache later on. You wonder what could be the matter with the scrambled eggs. Was the seasoning off? Kreacher helped taste test every element of the meal and gave his stellar praise for your unrealised culinary skills so you’re more than a bit confused at the scene. After swallowing all remnants of food in your mouth, you gently raise a question. 

“Regulus?” your youngest freezes up immediately, making your brows furrow but still, you continue in a soft voice, “What’s wrong?” Deep in your chest, you feel your heart clench in worry at the deer-in-headlights expression plastered across Regulus’ cherubic face. 

You are met with only silence, “do you not like your eggs, darling?” you try meeting your youngest’s eyes but he’s terrified to even face your direction. Instead, he’s firmly steered his gaze down to his lap and keeps it there, frozen in place. 

There’s a slam of the table and everyone stiffens. At the head, Orion stares disapprovingly at Regulus, who begins to tremble like a leaf, “How rude!” the patriarch spits with such force and bite that his saliva lands halfway down the lengthy dining table. He’s so scandalised by his son’s behaviour that the cold from his freezing gaze drops the temperature in the room lower than it already is. “How many times have we talked about this Regulus? Finish your plate at once or else it’ll be the last meal you eat today!”

“He’s not being rude!” you counter, flying out of your seat and making your way to Regulus, “And he shouldn’t be forced to eat something he doesn’t like nor punished harshly for disliking something,” Crouching down, you position yourself to block Orion from Regulus’ line of sight despite his frightened doe-eyes remaining transfixed on his lap. His small hands are turned into small, knuckle-white fists, gripping fiercely at the fabric of his trousers. A paralysed statue of fear incarnate, your little boy doesn’t deserve this! If you could ‘Avada Kedavra’ Orion’s pathetic, prissy ass, you would in a heartbeat. 

From your peripheral, you notice how Sirius had placed a comforting hand over one of Regulus’ closed fists and the sight made your heart bloom with pride and joy — seeing how well they take care of each other was so heartwarming. “Tell me what’s wrong, Reg…I promise I won’t get mad,” you make sure to keep your voice in a low whisper so that only your son can hear but also loud enough that Orion’s distant grumbling is disguised. 

“Do you not like eggs?” your prompting remains gentle and patient, hoping for a fraction of understanding. That’s all you really want. 

Sensing no antagonistic feeling in your tone, Regulus finally wills himself to speak, although barely audible from insecurity, “I….I don’t like scrambled eggs…”

“No? What about them don’t you like?”

"They feel weird in my mouth, I don’t like chewing them,” he explains shyly, his confession dripping with shame. His grey eyes look into your own remorsefully and, before he can utter an apology, he is stopped by the shaking of your head.

Smiling warmly, you pat his small hand and voice your reassurance, “That’s a reasonable preference to have. Do you not like the texture?” Regulus nods in confirmation as his small, tense shoulders slowly ease up, “Do you not like eggs at all or do you like them cooked in a particular way?” 

Regulus’ eyes widen with surprise. Never before had his mother been so attentive to his preferences like this. On the contrary, His mother was always the first to make him feel embarrassed for his picky tendencies when it came to food, especially over dishes that make him lose his appetite entirely, oysters and shellfish being the main culprit. He really didn’t like them at all. Many times, they were the appetiser to multiple-course meals hosted by pureblood, elitist wizarding families so Walburga was determined to season her son’s palettes early on in life. It was good etiquette to eat such foods and to know how to eat them properly. If he didn’t display appropriate dinner etiquette at the table then he is lesser, he is unworthy of the Black family name and blood running through his veins, he is unbecoming of his heritage, he is a disgrace— 

“I can cook eggs in many other ways,” you suggest thoughtfully, voice remaining soft and comforting, “I can fry them for you? Or I can boil them? Do you like your yolk runny or firm?” 

Regulus, spurred on by your softly placed questions feels the corners of his lips tug upwards, “fried eggs, please…”

His innocuous answer makes you beam, “with a runny or firm yolk, darling?”

“Runny, please,” Regulus finds your bright expression infectious and begins to smile a little wider too. Over the slope of his little brother’s small shoulders, Sirius is grinning from ear to ear; finally, Regulus isn’t going to be forced to eat something he doesn’t enjoy. The elation makes Sirius’ chest swell as his heart pinches slightly at the memory of his little brother retching up the contents of his stomach in the bathroom. Those disastrous, past meals started badly and they ended badly too. Peering at you with smiling eyes, Sirius knows that he won’t need to worry about that any more. 

“Of course, right away," you’re eager to leave and fix up Regulus’ plate but you also worry about leaving him with Orion at the dinner table; your husband wasn’t too pleased with Regulus having preferences — the pretentious prick could choke on his food and die for all you cared, “how about we go to the kitchen together?” you offer smoothly as you begin to stand, “that way, you can watch me cook and make sure I do them just the way you like it,” smiling brightly, Regulus nods and easily offers his hand for you to hold, “Siri, would you like to come?” if one brother was coming with you so was the other.  

“Yes please!” Sirius happily walks to the kitchen, hand-in-hand with Regulus, whose other hand is fully wrapped up in your own. 

From the head of the table, Orion stares with his mouth agape at what he had just been a witness to. What was happening to his wife?! 

11th August 1971 

Sirius and Regulus stand by the fireplace, waving off their newly appointed private tutor as they floo away before eagerly making their way to your home office. Usually, their session catch-ups would make the two freeze up and drag their feet along the plush carpets of their family’s proud home but not now. Ever since your irregular activities leading up to your fainting spell and subsequent switch in demeanour, they’ve felt safer and happier at home. But only around you, their father still frightened them. The patriarch’s grey eyes swirled with a mounting turbulence that they would greatly prefer to avoid so they quickly make themselves scarce around him but not around their mother. Not anymore.

“I can’t wait to show Mother my cursive practice,” Regulus has a skip in his step as he walks beside his older brother, who beams at him proudly. 

“Yeah, you’re getting really good at that Reggie,” Sirius praises, a slightly envious tone edging into his words, but it all remained playful, “say, how do you do your swirls so good?”

“Practise!” 

Sirius rolls his eyes at his younger brother’s cheek, “There has to be a secret to it that I don’t know about,” Regulus only giggles at his older brother’s shortcomings. This had been a rare happiness to experience at 12 Grimmauld Place but, gradually, it was becoming common between the two brothers. Suddenly the walls weren’t so drab, the furniture not as boring and the decorations not as hauntingly placed. The atmosphere was much brighter as sunlight always seemed to pour magnanimously in from the windows.

“Sorry Siri,” from Regulus’ free-flowing, tuneful words, he isn’t sorry at all but Sirius can never will up any hatred for his younger brother. They’ve been through it all together and now that their recent joys were also being shared, of course, they would partake in harmless teasing — teasing that was usually frowned upon by their mother but was no longer a worry. They can’t remember the last time their mother frowned — the two greatly prefer this new version of their mother’s expressions much more.

As they approach your office door, the brothers’ footfalls quicken and they barely catch themselves from bursting through the door without knocking. But not before they catch sight of your figure through the crack of the doorway. Curious about your activity, Sirius hushes his younger brother softly and holds him back so that he can lean forward to observe your figure closely. Inspired by his older brother’s nosiness, Regulus leans forward also and the two peer at you through the doorway crack. 

You’re not at your desk but are, instead, seated on the plush, cushioned seats of the emerald sofa placed in front of your desk. Black robes and other familiar attire are piled up beside you on one side while the other gradually assembles the neatly folded aftermath of your sewing…embroidery? Was there even a difference? Nevertheless, you had a needle and thread in hand without your wand or the use of magic in sight!

“Mother’s sewing your name tags herself,” Regulus concludes in a whisper following a muted gasp of surprise. 

Sirius’ eyes widen ever so slightly, “and she’s not using magic…” he doesn’t know how skilled you are at sewing but Sirius doesn’t care, the gesture alone is enough to make his chest swell. Even his face began to warm up from the heat climbing up his neck as it tried reaching his ears. 

“…do you think she’ll sew my name tags too? When I start my first year, I mean…” Regulus asks shyly, the clear insecurity in his timid voice making Sirius slightly defensive. 

“Of course, she will,” he huffs before grinning widely, “and if we tear up our uniform ‘accidentally’ I’m sure she’ll sew those up herself too!” Regulus doesn’t know whether he likes or dislikes his brother’s train of thought but smiles anyway; he’s just happy thinking about his mother paying as much attention and care to his first-year robes too. He can’t wait until he starts attending Hogwarts as well. 

Finally willing themselves to stop eavesdropping and return to their earlier task, Sirius and Regulus straighten their posture before knocking on the heavy wooden door. They don’t have to wait terribly long for an answering call to grant their entrance. 

“Come in,” you set your tools aside and smile when the door reveals your babies stepping into your office, “hello, my darlings,” from your periphery, you spot the time on the clock face and jump into conversation with them, “how was your tutoring session? Did you like your new tutor?” 

“Yeah!” the two answer simultaneously and with the same amount of enthusiasm — it makes you smile with content. Happiness looks good on them; their characters shine brighter and their faces are more child-like. They’re honestly the cutest little boys you’ve ever seen and now they’re your sons to love and protect.  

“That’s wonderful news,” you open your arms for each of them to jump into, “Tell me all about it,” you’re just about to magic away the robes and sewing equipment so that they can sit beside you but not before you spot Sirius inspecting your handiwork, “I’m afraid I’m not the best seamstress,” your confession comes out bashfully, “I should have had Madam Malkins sew the tags on for me—”

“No!—” Sirius interrupts, looking almost offended that you would consider such a thing, “I like your sewing,” you raise a brow and, together with Regulus, inspect your uneven, treasure map trail of stitches before turning to the eldest brother once more. 

“Are you sure, darling?”

“Yeah, only you can do the stitching on my uniform, no one else,” his firm answer makes your embarrassed expression melt into a warm smile.

“Alright then,”

“Thank you, Mother,” he gives you another hug that you happily return. 

“You’re welcome, my dear,”

Looking over your plans, you sigh in restrained frustration. This is going to be a little hard. Yes, you know what to do but it’s all about recruiting the right people, trustworthy people and ones who are right for the role you’re choosing to give them. There’s a lot on your plate too, with your most urgent goal being divorce. You’re convinced that it isn’t going to be easy, considering the controversies that will surround the separation of a prominent wizarding house. The laws surrounding marriage, divorce and custody at this time are also largely unknown to you. Thankfully, you’ve had the privilege of living in a modern ‘muggle’ society where marriage and custody laws were pretty equal and fair. Perhaps there’s a book you can read up on about these things. For now, it’s a safe bet to say that custody will favour Orion as a man in the 1970s — it’s better to over-prepare than be underprepared for any outcome. 

Despite the importance of this particular undertaking, you’ll have to wait until both, Sirius and Regulus, are attending Hogwarts to commence the divorce proceedings. You don’t want your boys to be front-row witnesses nor do you want them to rollercoaster through the typical, rough emotions of children caught up in their parents’ divorce. You’ve been through that already… and you barely made it out on the other side. You’re an adult and they’re just children; if you can protect them from the brunt of it, you will.

A stray thought pushes forward into your consciousness — it would be too optimistic to confidently wager on the boys siding with you. Although under abusive parenting, children are very loyal and you’re benefiting from that loyalty now; even though Walburga was incredibly cruel to her sons, they were still eager to give you a chance as soon as you took over and began treating them kindly. You need to be cautious. The silver lining of it all is that you’ll, at least, have some time to prepare affluently before starting the separation process. That, on its own, however, will require another bout of planning.  

Saving Regulus is another priority on your list. That requires getting rid of the Horcruxes and killing off snake-faced Voldy but you don’t want to be too hands-on with that, especially because you’re not very adept at casting spells yet — there’ll be more experienced and more willing people (Aurors) who would be able to handle this type of mission. All you have to do is pull the right strings and connect with the right people. Eyeing another task on your list, you spot a small connection and smirk to yourself. The nib of your quill dips into a pot of ink and bridges two of your obligations. 

“This could be quite beneficial on both ends,” if you play your cards right…

Making some more careful notes, you gradually begin to piece everything together. But then there’s the issue of Sirius being sent to Azkaban. It’s healthy to have faith in yourself but if someone’s life and wellbeing are in danger, especially if it’s your son’s, you need to have a second, third and fourth plan at the ready. There needs to be a second, third and fourth plan for Regulus as well. Luck and misfortune will always have some influence on the dice you roll, there will never be an exception to that. You’ve learned this enough times in your previous life already, not just in business but everything else too. 

Your quill stops and rests beside your plans as the cogs in your brain turn with more purpose. Sirius still needs to become an animagus and Regulus needs to learn how to be a strong enough swimmer so that he can cast a spell to repel the Inferi. It would be beneficial if they both become well-equipped in duelling. That’ll require your lack of interference (maybe even your support) until Sirius’ fifth year, getting Regulus sorted with swimming lessons and encouraging both on their Defence Against the Dark Arts skills. You make a quick note of both solutions and their reasoning before linking both back to your list of obligations. 

The progress you’re making with these intervention plans is making headway. You just hope that you won’t tip the scales too far so that what little control you currently have slips right through your fingers and you’ll be left floundering. 

20th August 1971

You’ve fully taken over the cooking for all meals and your boys are looking much healthier. It warms your heart every time you see them happily eating your cooking, it was hard work keeping up with the pantry inventory, planning meals and catering to their individual tastes but it was good work that filled your heart with so much content, you hardly felt the fatigue creeping into your bones. 

Regulus isn’t a picky eater, he simply has a preference for some foods over others. He doesn’t like his eggs scrambled, only fried and with a runny yolk; he can’t stomach oysters or shellfish; he doesn’t like pulp in his juice and he’d rather eat a raw onion than have any trace of offal trimmings in his food. 

Sirius can practically eat anything and does so healthily, however, he’s more of a savoury person, leaving Regulus to own the sweet tooth palette by himself. Both adore cheese and you often create mini charcuterie boards for them to snack on. It was so adorable. There was plenty of time on your schedule to assign towards aesthetic food presentation so you’ve mastered the creation of salami roses. You’ve also found that Sirius prefers caramelised onion chutney to go with his mature cheeses whilst Regulus goes for a sweeter fig chutney. 

Currently, you were making them their own mini charcuterie boards. Both were displayed on a circular board with their favourite chutney at the very centre, held in a small ceramic container. And, with decorative prowess, you place their selection of meats, cheeses, crackers and grapes around it. 

“Do they look good Kreacher?” the house elf peers over the countertop surface and gives an affirming nod with a barely noticeable smile. 

“The young masters will be very happy, Mistress,” helpfully he suggests bringing the carefully prepared boards and crust-less finger sandwiches up to the boys’ study room for you but you shake your head. 

“Thank you, Kreacher, but I think I’ll bring up the food this time,” you’ve met their new private tutor several times already but she was always so tense around you; you’re determined to improve her impression through some good old exposure therapy. “Please prepare some tea and bring it up as soon as you’re done,” with your wand and a softly uttered ‘locomotor charcuterie boards and sandwiches’, the items lift into the air just slightly and you begin to move them out of the kitchen. 

“What tea should Kreacher be brewin’ this noon, Mistress?” 

“Oolong would be lovely today. Be sure to brew some Earl grey for Orion too but deliver the Oolong to us first please,” Kreacher’s struggles with your utterance of the polite ‘please’ persists but he continues with his set tasks regardless. The hunched-over house elf has noticed you’ve been prioritising the young masters much more than Orion recently; whenever you want to do something thoughtful, you always think of your sons first. Only last minute do you finally remember your workaholic husband and leave the snack preparations for Kreacher to fulfil and deliver alone. It’s a peculiar shift in attention, the wrinkled elf admits, but seeing his young master Regulus so happy, he doesn’t complain. Kreacher also admits that he’s growing a slight, mutual fondness for the elder Black brother, the two share in their love for Regulus and loyalty to you; now they’ve become friendly acquaintances. The house elf is a little happier and much more willing than ever before to stay loyal to his mistress and young masters’ sides. And Master Orion too, of course.   

Making your way up the stairs, the pretentious cow stuck in your head makes her presence known with inconsequential complaints.

“You’re spoiling those boys far too much!” Walburga shrieks and immediately makes your temples pound, “Sirius and Regulus don’t need this much attention, if you continue this they’re going to grow up soft and weak and unable to carry on the Black family name with the proper dignity and class!” For the sake of avoiding the horrid healing potion Kreacher’s having you consume after every fainting spell, you’ve been training yourself to build up as much resistance to her incessantly obnoxious yapping as much as possible — you’re getting there but you still need some practise. Currently, you are traversing the stairs so you’re taking every step with extra caution.

“Bitches should be seen and not heard,” her confounded gasp doesn’t escape you, “so kindly shut the fuck up,” the sarcastic cheerfulness in your tone makes her gasp once more and, like a coward, makes herself scarce. It seems as though you’ve gotten better at shutting the shrew up but she has yet to acclimatise herself to your shameless disrespect towards her.  Hopefully, she never gets used to your comments; it’s always such a pleasure being able to render her utterly speechless. 

With a pleased smile, you give a soft knock on the boys’ study room before entering. The boys gasp happily as soon as they see the levitating charcuterie boards and the plateful of crust-less sandwiches float closer and closer. 

“I’m sorry to interrupt but I think you all deserve a lunch break,” the boys cheer and happily dig in while you face their tutor with a small smile, “please feel free to have as many sandwiches as you want, we have plenty on offer,” her smile is hesitant and slightly trembles under your hold so she’s quick to look away and fix her focus onto the plate of sandwiches — her own, personal reprieve from having to interact with you.

Peony Knight. She’s an incredibly timid individual who seems to be in her element only when teaching children rather than in the company of said children’s adult parents — she has yet to look you in the eye for an extended period. Her head is an organised plight of feathery, strawberry-blonde hair and her eyes are a pair of opal pendants, so brilliantly blue but incandescent with a kaleidoscope of other jewel colours. Her resume was astounding but her family wasn’t very notable so you could only imagine her surprise when she received your response to her application with a test run of her skills. It was important to you that she comes from an uncommon house and family, you didn’t want to draw too much attention over switching tutors. At her tutoring trial run, she started very shaky but eventually found her confidence when focusing on your two boys rather than your lurking figure from the corner of the study. She was a good runner-up and quickly became the perfect choice when your boys showed favour towards her – the other candidates appeared to have been more affected by your presence in the room and taught the way they thought you wanted them to. 

“She’s nice and patient,” Regulus commented when you went to him after her trial lesson. 

“I like the way she explains things,” Sirius added beside him. 

That was all you needed to hire her as their private tutor. Peony’s timidity of you as an authority figure played in her favour very well.  

Hidden within a thick pile of stacked parchments and a small mountain of miscellaneous scrolls, you found Walburga’s carefully curated curriculum for the boys and handed it over to Peony. Walburga would know better than you what would be useful for her sons to learn. However, you were surprised at the amount of ‘muggle’ topics on her curated list. Admittedly, you were only expecting foundational wizarding lessons maybe on wands or classic pureblood etiquette so your shock was justified. Walburga’s reaction, however, wasn’t.  

“I teach them proper pureblood etiquette myself, you useless girl! And how can I expect my sons to grow up well if they aren’t taught the basics?! They’ll be able to advance as better wizards of the Black family that way. Moreover, muggles stick to and remain in the basics so don’t get smug with me, you filthy mud-blood!” Walburga screeched without restraint and with much offence after your initial revelation, leading to another fainting spell — the disgusting bitch…

In addition to Peony’s private tutoring, you’ve taken to providing your own private lessons to the boys, much to their surprise and slight hesitancy. However, as soon as you began the extended lessons after their usual morning session with Peony one day, they’ve since grown to love it. This didn’t happen every time, however, only on Tuesdays and Fridays. Today was one of those days, a Friday, and you’re so excited to see their reactions to what you have planned. 

Their schedules typically consist of Peony coming over a couple of hours before noon and she teaches them for two or three hours sessions every day except weekends. Mondays were for English language and literature (wizard and muggle), Tuesdays were for Economics, Numeracy and Financial literacy, Wednesdays were for French and Cursive handwriting practice, Thursdays were for muggle sciences (basic biology, physics and chemistry) and Fridays were for history and philosophy (wizard and muggle).

You reserve the fun lessons for your boys with yourself as their teacher. These were composed of lessons that typically challenged their problem-solving, creativity and other fundamental skills to set them up with a good foundation for school and life in general. This included fun puzzle-solving, art (in every medium the boys wanted), some written/scenario problem-solving and role-play scenarios. The first Friday you did this, you had the boys act out from rough, child-friendly scripts you drafted inspired by the Shakespearian play, Macbeth. It seemed like an innocuous lesson but you wanted to gauge their ethical understandings and reasonings. 

Throughout the scenes, you would spontaneously make them freeze frame to ask prompting questions that typically go along the lines of, ‘what would you do in this situation?’, ‘do think that was the right thing to do?’, and ‘why did you think your character did this even though they knew it was wrong?’. Both engaged very well with their own perspectives on the situation. 

At one point they got into a small argument that you needed to break up due to slightly differing standpoints on the scenario. It became slightly more heated than you expected but you were thankful for the opportunity to teach them how to communicate well with each other despite their differences. The lesson ended after that because tensions were still high and they were equally very stubborn about who should apologise first. 

It was going to take more than one lesson to be able to make them understand the rules and the importance of healthy communication, but that was to be expected. This was just the beginning so you’re hoping that if you stay consistent with fostering their ethical reasoning, communication and problem-solving skills, they will be able to remain brotherly despite their opposing Hogwarts houses. In the end, you made them apologise at the same time (to the count of three) and had them hug it out before telling them to say one thing they like about the other person. Evidently, they weren’t used to your new way of doing things and making amends but they (grumpily) did as they were told — and looked absolutely adorable doing it, their pouty faces were too much to bear! 

Approaching the two boys indulging in their individual charcuterie boards and occasionally exchanging bites of their share, you kneel between them and begin pleasant conversations about their current lesson. 

“Are you two having fun so far?” you could practically see Peony stiffen up like cement behind you, just from the telling gasp she lets out in the background. Being so high-strung isn’t going to be good for her health so you hope she gets used to your presence soon enough. You do feel slightly apologetic for her but she needs to know that people can change no matter how drastically. Hopefully, she takes this opportunity to grow some confidence in herself too. Someone so intelligent should walk with broader shoulders and a higher chin. 

“Yeah! Did you know Pythagoras had a cult?” Sirius was practically bouncing in his chair.

“No, he had a school of very intelligent mathematicians and musicians,” Regulus countered after swallowing his bite of cracker, cheese and grapes. 

Sirius rolls his eyes but immediately jumps into another topic, “he discovered the theory of pitch which is surprising coming from a guy who’s scared of beans,” he cracks himself up laughing at the statement.

Again, Regulus interjects in defence of the philosopher, “he wasn’t scared of beans,” the two brothers exchange narrowed stares, “He just believed that beans were the vessels for dead people’s souls and didn’t want to disrespect them by running through a bean field,” a small argument ensues but you don’t act, instead, you watch as a bystander in the hopes that your presence alone can keep them in check. If you ever feel the need to jump in at some point, you will. 

All too well, Sirius and Regulus remain aware of your lingering attendance to their quarrel and make the silent agreement to not escalate things too far. For a moment, they share a knowing look after briefly glancing your way and glaring at each other once again. You watch them huff and inhale a slow, shaky breath. They actively turn their voices down whilst continuing with their argument. It didn’t seem to go anywhere but both concluded it with less heat and more of a calm acknowledgement of each other’s differing sides. 

“Two people can have different opinions and still be friends. They only need to respect that the other person holds a different view and that it doesn’t make them a bad person,” they remembered your sage advice from their first extracurricular lesson with you. It was a massive shift in perspective to their growing minds and the impact it had on both of them was enough to permanently imprint the message into their heads.  

Unprompted, you lean forward and press a kiss to each of their foreheads, Sirius first and then Regulus, “I’m so proud of you two,” you watch as their cherubic cheeks flush an adorable, pink hue. Sirius scratches the back of his head bashfully whilst Regulus fiddles with his pen, both of them equally biting back a small smile from the praise, “you remembered what I taught you,” they look upon your elated smile with shy fulfilment as they nod slightly. “Another person’s opposing opinions might be something we don’t share or appreciate as much as they do but…” they lean forward ever so slightly, wanting to consciously heed your elaboration on the topic, “hearing or witnessing a different view will expand our perspective on the world and help us grow as people. We need to keep an open mind for these sorts of things because they can teach us so much. It might be hard to do sometimes, but I want to ask you two for a small favour,” they nod silently, not questioning or hesitating at your words, fully trusting in your sensible knowledge — their mother was always a brick wall when it came to the opinions of others, they couldn’t penetrate her, especially when it came to opposite views on blood purity so, to see her encouraging such undogmatic behaviour, is peculiar but in a strangely motivating way. They find that they want to do whatever it is that you want to ask them to do no matter what, “I want the two of you to try to understand the other side of any argument or opposite view. The world isn’t as black and white as we think it is. We have to try to be understanding and empathetic people. There may be reasons someone sees the world a certain way and even if we don’t agree or like their opinion, the least we can do is try to understand them. Just try. That’s all… that’s enough,”

It was a lot to take in and it was a lot to ask of such young minds that were still developing. But you weren’t asking for them to be perfect at it. All you want them to do is try.

“Alright, Mother,” Sirius nods with solid determination in his eyes. 

“Whatever you wish, Mother,” Regulus says at the same time, also glowing with resolve. 

Smiling happily, you bring them into a group hug, your arms easily curling around their small shoulders as you press another kiss to their temples, “you don’t have to be perfect, just try,“ you reiterate in a whisper, “I’m so proud of you, my darlings, you make mommy so happy,” you don’t see it but you feel their bright smiles press into your neck from either side as they return your embrace and nuzzle their faces into the junction of your neck and shoulders.

˖  ݁𖥔.☁︎.𖥔 ݁ ˖

Their lesson ended a few minutes ago and, like routine, they wave off Peony at the living room fireplace while you set up the study with all the things you planned on having them do for the afternoon. You asked them if they wanted to take a break before your lesson but they said they were happy to begin right away. They were able to detect the sparkle of excitement in your eyes as you left after their lunch break and were now filled with the same eagerness to begin your lesson.

Setting up their table with tools, aprons and a protective mat warmed your heart. You had planned so many things to do with your future children in your original life, read so many books and attended so many talks, lectures and groups on how to be a good mother that your heart was finally able to heal the scars that resulted from the infertility diagnosis you were slammed with years ago. You felt like a failure, not only as a mother but as a woman to be told that. It wasn’t until you were able to recover from that debilitating news that you finally began to consider adoption. It took years and years and the building of a corporate empire to finally get to that point but then, you were doomed once more. At the centre of a collision in the busy city streets, you lost consciously accepting your fate only to end up here…it was all quite a blessing really. Now you have two beautiful sons to call your own and to love with all of your heart. As an added bonus, they’re also two of your favourite characters from the Harry Potter universe. 

You could barely contain your excitement when you heard a small knock at the door to the study. They were here. 

“Come in, darlings,”

Stepping into the room, Sirius and Regulus gasp in awe and begin jumping on the spot ever so slightly from feverish anticipation. In your outstretched hands were two small, grey aprons, one displaying Sirius’ name and the other Regulus’ along the upper seam of the apron’s breast pocket. Without being asked, they step up to their aprons and reach forward to put the article on themselves. As they do so,  you announce what you will be doing for the afternoon. 

“Clay sculptures?” Sirius almost squeals in excitement as Regulus bounces on the balls of his feet. 

“We’ve never done that before,” Regulus chimes as you kneel behind him to help with tying up his apron, eventually moving on to redo Sirius’ clumsy knot as well.

“It’ll be fun,” you giggle, “fun and messy,” Sirius appreciates the hint of mischief in your voice and rushes to take a seat at the table with Regulus toddling along close behind him. You take a seat too and begin to talk them through the little sculpting tools they have beside them, the small mountain of clay at their disposal and the use for the bowls of water within reach. 

Regulus is listening but he can’t help glimpsing down at his stitched-on name tag every few seconds or so. His chest feels warm and so so tight that he feels like he’s about to burst. You had hand-stitched his name tag onto the apron yourself. He recognised the inexperienced, inconsistent stitches but he thinks it’s the most beautiful display of embroidery he has ever seen. There’s also the revelation that Regulus didn’t need to wait to go to Hogwarts to know that you would be attentive enough to do the same thing for his clothes as you did to Sirius’. He feels special and he loves the affectionate attention you were giving him, all the motherly love he and his older brother had always dreamed of experiencing was finally happening, not only through kind words but in warm hugs, soft kisses and silent acts of service too. He feels a surge of wanting to do well in everything, from studying to writing to eating to sleeping — all of it! He’ll do well in all of it. He only wants to make you proud. 

“Let’s begin with rolling out a piece of our clay,” you start, encouraging them to get messy, keep their clay hydrated and not worry about the state of their tools because you’ll all be washing them at the end together. After that, you had them make little balls using their hands and then roll out one ball into a flat sheet using their small rolling pins. With another ball, you instructed them to attempt making it flat using their hands instead, which helped you explain that moving around the clay with their hands makes the clay easier to mould.  

“Have you two been learning about muggle sciences?” you gently ask as the two go about flattening their spheres a little more so that they can carve patterns into them using their small wooden tools. 

“Yeah, I like the one called physics,” Sirius grins, eyes still focused on his clay.

“Me too!” Regulus chimes and the two brothers grin at each other, which makes you smile. 

“That’s very good,” you nod, spotting an opportunity, “so where do you think the heat comes from when we roll out our clay?” 

“From our hands,” Sirius immediately answers. 

“That’s right, anything else?”

The question is open for the two of them but Regulus is the one who answers next, “From all the moving around,”

“Brilliant, my darlings,” you praise and they grin pridefully. 

“Now, can you name the types of energies those are called? If you’ve learned about them, that is,” The brothers look at each other before beginning to ponder separately. The silence draws on so you decide to give them a little help, “What are all the energies called?” They do just fine with regurgitating the ten different energy types and that seems to be enough to prompt Regulus. 

“The moving around is kinetic energy,”

Sirius jumps to answer as well, “and our hands transfer the thermal energy,”

“Good good!” you give them a small round of applause, which they bashfully smile at, “you two are so clever!… What did I hear about this ‘transferring’ of energy, Siri?” your question comes out in a nonchalant tone. 

“Peony says that energy is stored and transferred,” Sirius answers, “and that they sometimes turn into another type of energy,”

“I see,” you look down at your own clay spheres and sheets, “where is the thermal energy from my hands coming from?” once again, they’re silent, “I think this can link to biology, specifically our biology,” that gets the cogs in their brains turning again and you can’t help but coo at their adorable thinking faces. 

“It’s from…” Regulus begins, immediately catching both yours and Sirius’ undivided attention, your eyes equally encouraging him to continue with his answer, “It’s from the energy in our food,”

Eyes sparkling with delight, you prompt him once more, “And what energy is that called?”

“…Chemical!”

“Good job!” Sirius claps for his brother’s success and reaches up for a high five that Regulus happily hits and once again, they’re grinning at each other. 

“What about for the movement?” This was a trick question but your boys are clever so you have full faith in them. Regulus already answered his share so he silently backs out from the arena by looking up at Sirius who begins to ruminate. “…well the movement has to come from somewhere, doesn’t it?” you thoughtfully point out, beginning to play around with your clay and trying to look innocent about it despite it being a definite clue. 

“It comes from us!” Sirius explains and looks down to play around with his clay too. You stay silent as you let him think and reach the conclusion on his own but you’re already so so proud of their intelligent displays, “…so it’s the same answer, it’s also from chemical energy…” he seems unsure from his tone but the minute he looks up to meet your eyes, the smile on your lips and the applause from you and Regulus has him beaming. 

“My sons are so so clever! I’m very proud of you both!”

That was enough of that — you only remember so much from your younger science education — so you move on to teach them about hatching and being able to stick two pieces of clay together with a little bit of water in order to make a small box with no lid. Thankfully, that was the final thing you intended to teach them before letting them make their own creations. 

“Now, you can make whatever you want with your clay. After this, I’ll bake them so they become solid, and then, we can paint them together. If you run out of clay, just ask and I’ll get you some more,” the two buzzed in their seats from the excitement and you were just as eager to let them loose with their creativity. “You can also make more than one thing but limit yourself to just two or three, please. Also make sure that whatever you make suits a function, it can be anything at all; you can even get some ideas from this muggle book on clay crafting,” you present them with the children’s clay craft book and place it where they can easily reach, “don’t mind getting the edges dirty, as long as the main text and pictures aren’t too muddied up by clay, it’s fine. It’s supposed to get used earnestly anyway,” they smile at your proactive reassurance but only Regulus goes for the clay book while Sirius goes about making his desired creation right away. 

For a while, Sirius cannot decide what to actually make. His speediness into action makes his younger brother peer over at him anxiously quite a few times but his initial unease gradually fades when he realises his older brother keeps changing his mind, flattening a scarcely sculpted creation just as quickly as he begins a new one. You don’t want to interrupt their independent creative flows and get to work on something you’ve already planned to create, a modest gift for your darling boys. 

Some time goes by in silence before you call for Kreacher to play one of the vinyls you managed to buy from a record shop when out on errands to muggle London. You had bought several along with the gramophone at the shop. When you first bought it home, the boys were eager to find out what it was and spent a lot of time happily winding it up so that you could all listen to the records together. It would have been preferable to get the electrical one but it would have been useless in the predominantly magic-operated house.  

“Great choice, Kreacher,” you smile at the house elf who nods timidly by the gramophone and promptly disappears when he feels as though he is no longer needed. The Beatles’ Abbey Road album plays in the background as the soundtrack to your clay sculpting session for several songs-worth of minutes before you finally get up to independently ask the boys about what they had chosen to make. ‘Oh! Darling’ sings in the distant corner as you kneel beside Sirius and quietly ask about his creation and what its function would be. In a whisper, he replies without turning to look at you, far too focused on his creation to divert any significant attention from it.  

“I’m making plant pots,” he begins, his pink tongue slightly poking out of the corner of his mouth, “for the cooking herbs you said you wanted to grow in the kitchen, but I’m also making one for Reggie since he says he wants to grow a plant in his room,” after his nonchalant explanation, your heart soars. It would be a fair assessment to say that Regulus has spoken to him about exploring gardening. You didn’t know your youngest wanted to grow a green thumb but it was a pleasant surprise — you’ll see about taking him to a muggle plant shop soon, you don’t quite trust wizarding plants in the household. A succulent or mini cactus would be a good choice. 

Pressing a kiss onto Sirius’ cheek, you whisper a soft thank you and praise his thoughtfulness before moving on to Regulus. For a moment, the elder brother wishes he could grow out his hair so that you are less likely to notice his flushed cheeks and red-tipped ears. You also kneel by Regulus’ side to whisper the same questions about his creation. 

“I’m making a little jewellery dish for your rings and necklaces and earrings, Mother. And I’m also going to make one for Siri since he’ll be getting the family ring when he’s older. Sirius’ one is going to be star-shaped because he’s named after the brightest star and yours is going to be heart-shaped because…well…” Regulus can’t finish his sentence as his blush floods his entire face with heat. But he doesn’t need to finish his explanation, he’s said all you needed to hear to coo over his thoughtfulness and press a kiss to his cheek also. They’re such sweet boys. That bitch Walburga was blessed to have them and yet she mistreated them so much, they didn’t deserve any of that. Tender love and care is what they truly deserve and that will be your sole mission and life’s purpose for this existence. 

“What are you making, Mother?” Regulus asks unprompted when you finally sit back down by your humble creations again. The youngest’s question makes Sirius perk up and eye you with interest, his grey eyes flicking between you and the carefully shaped clay by your hands. 

“I’m making little star-shaped pendants for my little star boys,” smiling at their flustered expressions, you elaborate further, “I’m going to poke a hole near the top point so I can thread it through a chain and you can wear it as a necklace or a bracelet — you can choose,” you show them one with a carved ’S’ on it, “this one is for Siri,” next you present the one with an ‘R’ on it, “and this one is for Reggie,” they beam in happiness at the getting such a personalised gift from you and continue their clay projects with new-found vigour. 

It was relatively easy to create the small star pendants so, inspired by Regulus’ creations, you proceeded to craft minimalist ring bands, one each of you. Sirius’ you carved the same sort of archaic patterns as that of his wand, for Regulus, you did simple lines with an occasional dot and for yours, evenly placed mini daisies. At first, it was purely for making sure that Regulus didn’t feel left out from Sirius getting the family ring but, looking at your modest creations, your magnate mind begins to manifest an innovative idea you’re itching to begin. Your schedule is going to fill up very quickly and soon — there isn’t a chance that you’ll wait on this. 

1st September 1971

Today couldn’t have crept up on you quickly enough. One minute you were settling into a cosy routine with your darling sons and now you were sending the eldest away for wizarding boarding school. It was happening too fast and your heart was constantly breaking from being torn between freely letting him go and childishly begging him to stay so that you could spend as much time with him as possible. Even the novelty of rushing onto platform 9¾ through the brick wall between platforms 9 and 10 couldn’t keep the tears from filling your eyes. However, your unhappiness and woe were quickly wiped away when Sirius expressed muted sadness at the idea that his father was too busy to see him off to Hogwarts. That morning, try as you might you couldn’t convince Orion to be there for his son. The git was lucky Sirius had interrupted your argument to express his acceptance and neutrality over the situation or else you would have clocked the pretentious asshole’s jaw. You would be surprised if the hypothetical punch landed hard enough to dislocate both of his temporomandibular joints. He would be eating through a tube if it weren’t for your little boy’s interruption but you’ll be sure to sink your teeth into your git of a husband as soon as you get home. 

Regulus seems to be whispering something to his older brother as they share a hug of goodbye. There was plenty of time for Sirius to get onto the train - you made sure of that - and you promised to wave him off as the train left the station so none of you were in any rush to leave the other. You kindly smile down at their wholesome interaction, completely drawn in by their innocence and heartfelt brotherly love for each other. Their relationship was worth preserving and building up. You were once saddened by Sirius and Regulus’ torn apart brotherhood but now, you’ll be devastated if your sons ever broke their bond like in the movies and books. So distracted by your loveable sons’ endearing display, you miss the shocked looks you were receiving from fellow parents of other children who were also boarding to attend Hogwarts — they simply couldn’t believe it! 

Everyone knew the matriarch of the Black family. However, the very picture of her now was not what was to be expected. Rumours of her cold and unsympathetic disposition appeared as slanderous lies when they took in your warm smile and fond stare, looking solely upon your two sons. It was well-known amongst the wizarding community that the famous Black family’s eldest son, Sirius Black, would begin attending Hogwarts this year. They expected to see a conceited and substantially reserved display of the family by the platform but not… not this! This is something for the papers! Had the matriarch of the most ancient and noble house of Black always looked this beautiful and kind? Surely not!… But their eyes weren’t being deceived, they were seeing the truth! Many gasped and openly stared, thankfully hushed down by the nosiness of the platform, whilst others didn’t know how to interpret the display and opted to avert their eyes.

Around his small wrist, Sirius keeps your clay star pendant around his wrist, which had been painted a deep black per his request while the ’S’ is marked with metallic silver paint. He has such good taste for aesthetics despite his young age. Every day there was something new to be proud of him for, no matter how little. You love being a mother!

“Oh darling, I’m going to miss you so so much. You must promise me that you’ll take care of yourself, don’t be scared about making friends,” you look him in the eye as you say so, combing your fingers through his hair and pushing away the curling locks from his forehead, “they’re going to love you just as much as I do,”

“Me too, Siri,” Regulus’ soft interjection brings out a mutual laugh from you and the eldest Black brother. Sirius brings Regulus into another hug that you are also brought into.

“And if they don’t like you then they can suffer having none of those mini pies I baked for you,” the two of you share a smirk and a wink. Sirius had requested some shelf-stable foods to bring such as his favourite chutney, jams and jerky, all homemade by you, especially for him. Of course, you didn’t say no. You even suggested bringing along something yummy for the train ride despite already providing him an allowance to spend on the trolley. 

“Regulus and I will write to you as often as we can so be on the lookout for our letters, okay?” he nods, eyes already sparkling from the anticipation and thought of receiving mail by owl solely for him. A letter addressed only to him, with his name on the envelope, and meant only for him to read — his feverish anticipation was to be expected. He couldn’t wait for his first letter. 

“I’ll write back just as much, promise!” 

“Good because if you don’t,” you scold playfully as Sirius bites back a cheeky giggle, “I’ll go to Hogwarts and demand a written letter back myself, I’ll bring Reggie with me too so that’s twice the heat you’ll be under young man, don’t forget,”

“Never,” Sirius whispers as he throws himself into your embrace once more. There’s never going to be enough hugging to satiate your aching heart, nor squash the sadness of watching your baby grow up too fast but, knowing the mischief and fun he’ll be getting up to, makes you almost giddy with excitement. You want to read all about it in his letters home! 

As much as you’d like to have said your farewells for longer, Sirius still needed to board and needed help with his luggage. Thankfully there were plenty of staff to help him lug it all around, which you smiled gratefully for. They seemed stunned by your courtesy but tipped their caps in acknowledgement and whispered a quick ‘thanks’ in return, regardless. 

Stepping back from the platform with Regulus at your side, the two of you try to follow Sirius along the train compartments as closely as you can until you finally see him settling into a box by himself. You wonder if he’ll be meeting his fellow marauders soon — god! You wish you could see them as adorable 11-year-old babies like your Sirius right now. 

Regulus toddles up to be closer to the window, opposed to the thought of separating from his brother and tries to hold one last conversation with Sirius as everyone waits for the train to depart. To hear him clearer, Sirius reaches up to open the window. Smiling at the pair fondly, you almost miss a heart-stopping sight. From your left peripheral, you spot an untameable mess of dark hair and round hazel eyes sparkling in jubilation, framed with an adorable pair of round glasses — you barely withhold your gasp of surprise. But all too soon, from your right, you glimpse a head of neatly trimmed but slightly grown-out brown hair, belonging to a rather spindly boy swamped under a cosy autumn-brown jumper. On his softly curving jaw is a light, nicking scar and when he turns his head ever so slightly, you see another more prominent scar marked across the pudge of his cheek. You’ve seen a wild, baby-ish James Potter and Remus Lupin. Almost all of the marauders were spotted getting onto the Hogwarts Express but do you even want to see the final member? No! Of course not! It was then that you noticed sandy-blonde hair weaving through the crowds of parents wishing their children farewell – a last-minute attempt at getting onto the train on time. Behind him, he is followed by a similarly blonde woman, his mother. Goodness, both share such startling similarities, both have curved edges to their silhouette, pink cheeks and sea-blue eyes. They looked like an adorable pair and you had to admit that Peter’s portly appearance made him incredibly endearing for his age. They looked like an ordinary, harmless mother-son pair, much like you and your boys…

A whistle pierces through the station and snaps you out of your daze. Finally turning back to your Sirius, your eyes tear up again for the umpteenth time that day. Regulus had rushed back to your side, clinging onto the long, black skirt of your dress with one hand as he used the other to wave goodbye. Silently, you mouth an ‘I love you’. He isn’t as surprised as when you whispered the same affection to him whilst still on the platform so he was able to mouth it back — ‘I love you too, Mother,’ — your heart pinches. Picking Regulus up, you sit him on the curve of your hip and wave Sirius off together. You see the slight shimmer of tears in Sirius’ eyes too just before the train moves too far and takes Sirius away with it. 

You miss him already.

SERIES M.LIST | NEXT. 05 : ... →

A/N : surprise! goodness, this was a really big chapter hehe~ i hope you darlings enjoyed the read! i also would like to gently remind everyone that i am no longer doing taglists but to be notified whenever i post something, please follow and turn on notifications for reblog side account: @thekqipond where i will be reblogging every new fic as soon as i post it! the reason i was able to post this chapter a month ahead of my official come-back in October was to test my taglist solution and the order of chapters i want to post by Christmas ;) i hope you enjoy!

please like, comment and reblog to show your support, i'd really appreciate it! property of kquil ; all written content is mine and no one else's unless stated otherwise ; do not steal, plagiarise, modify or translate to other sites

[luveline]

hey! would you mind writing sirius black x reader (ole flame or something) when they meet for the first time since azkaban at a meeting for the order? thank you and happy holidays!

thank u for requesting, hope this is OK! ♡

—you and sirius both get to go home eventually, 2.2k. fem

You were still kids when Sirius… went away. You thought he hurt James and Lily, and it didn't matter that you loved him because he was evil and cruel and he hurt the people he loved most in the world, and then you were outposted thousands of miles eastward, your life a shadow. 

Remus sent you letters. You always answered, even when it hurt, but his last was too much to believe. You told yourself that someone forged his handwriting through a curse or some new gimmick, and then a second arrived with a smaller envelope hidden inside. 

No name written on it. No Dear anything to begin. 

Things are different to what you've been told. Please come home, it said. This penmanship was shaken like a hand out of practice, but something felt familiar in the curves and dots. 

If Remus’ letter (and the second smaller one too) were in fact telling the truth, it means you did something awful, and so, for a while, you don't go. 

Please, the next letter says, again enclosed within a larger explanation from Remus, I'm sorry. I just want to see you again. 

Getting home isn't as simple as he might think. You have to picture the destination very clearly to disapparate, and you have no sustained recollection anymore of the places you used to go. You remember silly things, slices of memories; the four of them laughing in a big green field, the sweet smell of hair oil to your left; the beige walls of a rented flat where you'd lay in bed for hours, sometimes days at a time, before things got too terrible to sleep; a string-lit garden that last summer, hands of poker on a glass table. These places aren't real anymore. You can't go back to them. 

Upon your request, Molly forwards you an address and a secret code. 

Trains, buses, trains again. A long walk through a cold street. Some secret this or that. You arrive in the night and a frowning face ushers you in, past a painting sealed away and up the creaking stairs. You spend hours sitting on the end of a bed coated in dust waiting for the sun to rise, your back stiff with nerves. You could slip out before anyone else knows you're here, it's not as if Moody would give you away. But why did you come, if you were going to run straight back to your outpost? 

You don't want Sirius’ betrayal to be true, of course. It took your breath away imagining what it would mean if he hadn't done what you thought. If it's all lies (as it seems to be), if he's innocent as he and Remus claim, it means you turned your back on him and left him to suffer, and he's still asking you to come home. 

A few people stir for breakfast. Molly, who's voice you remember, and some younger sounding ones that may be her children, or perhaps the newer Order recruits. Then comes Remus’ voice. He sounds different. Less Welsh, more tired. Homely anyways as he passes your door with someone beside him. 

“...any day now,” he's saying, “try not to worry.” 

“I do worry. I've worried about it every day for years.” 

You freeze up. 

The stairs creak, Remus’ voice moving further away. “She doesn't need worrying.” 

Sirius must stay at the top of the stairs for a moment. He sounds close. “I wouldn't know what she needs.” 

“Come have some breakfast.” 

“I'll write her again.” 

“After breakfast.” 

“What if she doesn't come?” 

“After breakfast,” Remus insists. “She can ignore you once we've had toast.” 

“I forgot how funny you are,” Sirius mutters. 

Hearing his voice fills you with doubt. He sounds nothing like he used to, no easy confidence to be heard, just fatigue. 

You look down at your hands. Hearing his voice has a new emotion sprouting, too. When you first learned what had happened to your friends, you felt anger like a knife everywhere you went. How could he do that to them? How could he do it to you, be that person, ruin everything you'd loved and made together? But later, when anger faded and grief ached, you'd missed the Sirius you loved. Shamefully, in longing pangs, you'd toss and turn to dreams where things were different. 

Now there's a chance he might still be that person, and you're hiding from him in his own house. 

“There's someone here,” Molly says as you leave your room, her voice nearly too quiet to hear from the kitchen. “Moody's told me this morning.” 

“What?” Arthur asks. 

“Who?” a younger voice says. 

A small intermission of quiet. “Well, I don't know,” Molly says eventually, though she must have guessed it was you from the letter you sent. “But I'll need another loaf of bread. You'd better go, boys.” 

“Mum,” one whines. 

“Come on now.” 

The stairs whimper as you descend, the bannister sticky with old gloss under your hand. Paisley wallpaper and drapes catch your eye as you pass the overflowing shoe rack. There must be more people here than you'd thought. The coat stand is similarly overloaded. 

You can see into the kitchen as soon as you take the last step down. Molly stands wringing a dish cloth between her hands, two teenage boys at the kitchen table. Remus stands near her right with a cup of tea, and when he sees you, he genuinely smiles. 

“Oh, good,” he says, the scar that bisects his lip pulling as he takes a sip of tea. 

The teenagers turn to see you. “Bread, boys! Arthur, you can go with them," Molly says.

Arthur doesn't complain. You falter in the hallway, quiet as the trio of Weasley's leave the kitchen in their slippers to take a quiet exit from the front door. They smile politely as they go, but the boys whisper as the door shuts behind them. You wonder if they have an inkling of who you are, and then you wonder what you might say now they're gone. 

Molly remains, inquisitive to know that you need privacy but also the security of her company. She was always smart like that.

“Come in, then,” Remus says. 

“I–” You clear your throat. “I'm not sure I should.” 

A startle of silverware against china. 

Remus gives you one of his looks. It has tears threatening to well. Why didn't I fight to see him more? you think. Suddenly years have passed and he's changed, but his reassuring glances remain. It's like he's saying everything is fine, why wouldn't everything be fine? Chin up, dove.

Sirius appears in the doorway. Dark circles beneath grey eyes, his cheeks gaunt with hunger rather than the sleek sharpness he once possessed. He's still pretty, if wounded. It's as though you've found an old photo of him that's been smudged with age. He's stepped out of one of your moulding albums to haunt you. 

“Angel,” he breathes, his hand clasped low on the doorway, “you're here.” 

You look past him to Molly and Remus. There isn't a reality nor dimension where they'd let him stay here if they didn't believe his innocence. Remus explained it all in the letter and still you worried if he might have gotten it wrong, and simply believed what he wanted to believe, but it's not possible. Remus loved James so much, he would've killed Sirius himself if he really thought Sirius was the secret keeper who betrayed them. 

So. It's a relief to be home. 

You stare at him. “You look tired,” you say quietly. 

“I'm fine. I am.” 

He seems alright, considering. You'd even say he was handsome with his hair pushed away from his face, a dark shadow of stubble around his mouth, but he looks exhausted.  

You're expecting him to say what you'd say. How could you ever think I'd do it? 

Sirius was prone to similar bouts of pride, or righteousness, justice, whatever you want to call it, but he doesn't bother with that now. He looks at you as though you're the only person on earth, gaze narrowed but eyes wide, pain between his brows as he asks, “What's wrong?” 

Your hand finches up to your cheek to wipe the sudden tear away. “I thought I'd never see you again.” Your Sirius. 

“Don't be upset,” he pleads. 

“How can I not be? I left you all alone for so long.” 

He laughs roughly. “Sweetheart, what were you supposed to do?” 

“Not just give up.” 

“You thought it was me. That's the only thing you could've done. Either of you,” he says, gesturing backward with his hand. “It was hard… to know who to trust, at the end. It's not your fault.” 

You really were only kids together, not half as in love as James and Lily, but that doesn't mean you weren't mad for each other. He looked after you. You would've had a life, you think. 

“You were just gone,” you say, looking down at the floor between you, eyes tracing lines of wood grain. “Everyone. There was nobody left. And I just let you go.” 

“Do you want to come here?” he asks. You lift your head. His hand is barely in front of him, fingers open, palm up. 

It's like taking a stranger's hand for the first few seconds. You keep them low between you both, unfamiliar to each other. But, you find, as his fingers wrap around yours in that selfish way they used to do, squeezing rather than intertwining to make all of them fit, he remembers you.

You step a little closer, your arm to his chest, and look up at him through your lashes. It would melt him like a candle near a furnace, this look. He'd be smug or seething about something and you'd sidle in to stand between his shoes, unsure of what to say but determined to be there for him. It's the same now.  

“What's wrong?” he asks under his breath. 

“I left you all alone,” you repeat. 

“It wasn't your choice, okay?” He smooths his free hand from your elbow to your upper arm. 

Molly says something to Remus. He chuckles and says something in return. Happier to admit it if it's only for Sirius’ ears, you say, “I'm really sorry, Sirius. I miss you every day.” 

“I miss you too,” he says. 

You push your arms around his waist and hide your face in his chest, feeling for the lines of who he used to be, the dip of his spine in his back or the soft cotton of one of his old t-shirts. You regret hugging him at all, until he puts his arm behind your head, a shaky breath released against your crown. 

I'm scared, he'd said. But I don't want you to be scared, okay? Barely twenty, he smelled of the sticky red powder on the end of matches after a night doing things he couldn't tell you about. You could tell him you loved him, and he you, but you weren't to discuss Order business. We'll be okay. 

But Lily–

Everyone's going to be fine. I promise. 

“You promised,” you say to yourself. Too quiet for him to hear, but he does. 

“I promised you so many things I'm not sure what one you mean,” he says with a disappointed laugh. 

You pull away, taking his face into two hands. “How do you feel?” you ask, ignoring the tremble working up from your wrists. 

“What?” His eyes are dark. 

“How are you? Did they– I mean, are you okay? Are you sick?” 

“Remus has patched me up. And Cordelia, the medwitch, you know her?” 

“I don't know anyone. I've been away.” 

He nods sadly. “Yeah. Well, you look the same.” 

“I don't.” 

“You do! You look the same,” —he almost sounds happy, his lips curling into a smile— “sweetheart. Sweetheart–” He closes his eyes. 

You push his hair behind his ears. “You don't look the same,” you confess, “you have wrinkles, right… here.” You touch the corners of his eyes. 

“You're still beautiful.” 

“Mm. You can't even see me.” 

“I don't need to see you. I knew you would be.” 

You rise up to kiss his cheek gently. “It's like you're back, like– like, I always felt like you were gone. And now you're home again. You are home, aren't you?” 

He covers your hand with one of his. “You're here, so–” 

You laugh together nervously. “Yeah, I'm here.” 

“I have stuff to do to make it right.” 

“Then we'll do it.” 

“Okay,” he says. He swallows a breath, and wraps you in a surprisingly tight hug. “Did you read my letters?” 

I don't want anything from you. Just to see you're okay. 

“I read them. I'm okay. Don't I look okay?” 

“You look perfect. Just like the last time I saw you,” he says. It startles you how suddenly he sounds like he did when you were young, his flirting drawl, voice velveteen. 

“Not like that,” you laugh. 

He pulls you as close as you can be, rough now, his arms solid around you. “I missed that,” he says, rubbing your back. “I forgot how you sound when you laugh.” 

You've led very different lives. “I didn't forget yours.” 

“You wouldn't. You love having things to hold against me.” 

You stroke his hair. “Maybe a little.” 

[jujutsukgojo]

The Baby Project

chapter two

izuku midoriya x reader

Summary:

U.A. decides that raising a fake baby is a good lesson for the future heroes and paired third year classes A and B with a general studies class. When you get stuck with a dead beat, Izuku Midoriya comes to save the day and your grade.

tw: Dead beat parents, sexual harassment (no details), idk if there's anything else?

The baby project is the worst thing to have happened at U.A. At least for you and the rest of your General Studies class that the ‘heroes’ decided to sacrifice for their favored course. 

  “Is this punishment?” 

  The teacher, Snipe, shakes his head. “No, no it’s not.” 

“You sure? Is it because of my last assignment?” Your previous assignment was honest and not popular. Snipe didn’t like what you had to say about heroes. The only thing you regret is that it was almost a hundred slides and you had to hold the class hostage in order to finish it. It was so bad that some of the other teachers had to save them. What were you supposed to do? You worked hard on your presentation and by God, somebody is going to learn from it. It was a solid assignment that you ended up passing, much to your amazement. 

   “It’s not punishment. You’re helping them. They’re about to be sent out there and need that last bit of guidance.” You scoff at your teacher. Are you even going to be graded for this since it is all for them? Then, a thought enters.

“This is because of Endeavor, right?” The room is filled with tension at your referral. What did they expect? It’s the truth. Because of the Todoroki Family’s fiasco, U.A. has decided to help prevent that from happening again in its own way: by giving robotic babies. Not to mention it is at your expense.

“ Toots!” Your friend, Ema, hisses. You just shrug and mouth ‘what?’.

“Yes.” Your eyebrows raise at Snipe’s honesty. “And why are we sacrificed? We’re younger than they are. Let the elderly go first. Just as nature intended.”

 Snipe rubs his face. “Why are you so-no, you’re not being sacrificed. It’s a new assignment that everyone’s doing. My class is just paired up with them.” 

“ Why?"  How are you the only one with questions? There is so much unfairness here!

  “Will you stop?” A girl with bright red hair and reptilian eyes frowns at you. What’s her name again? Sakura or something? “It’s happening, there’s no use fighting it.”

  You sigh and glare at her and your homeroom teacher. 

“Try to get excited. This is the first time U.A. is doing this and you get to set the standard! Think of names and schedules,” He goes from being behind his podium to sitting on the desk in front of it. 

“And time, and sleep, and food-” He interrupts you. “This is new technology, too! This little thing feels, looks, and acts like a real baby. It literally grows and responds as time goes on.”

  The boy with shiny silver hair and four eyes tilts his head. You think his name is Jule? That’s how you’ve always referred to him as and was never corrected. “How old do we have to raise it to be?” 

  Your debate is slowly turning into excitement about the project. A baby to hold and raise. That grows and you’ll be the first at U.A. to do it. You’ll have future pro heroes as the other parent. Not just any of them, the golden class. Class A and B, the ones who fought in wars and defeated the greatest evil. That year alone goes down in history. Your peers still stand in awe as they walk past them in the hallways as do a lot of the school. 

  “Depends on your achievements. The better parent you are, the bigger it gets. Hatsume is the one who made them. For all we know, you guys could raise teenagers,” He turns his head towards you. “And get a taste of your own medicine.”

  “I’d be an excellent parent. I’m just not sure about heroes.”

He points at you. “Keep playing. I dare you.” His threat earns a couple of chuckles in the class and even a smile that you try to fight. 

  Riko, a girl a few rows away from you, bounces in her seat. “Who do we get?” 

“See? Be like Riko.” He gestures to her but stares dead at you. He has always been the teacher that tries to be personal and familiar and use first names. It’s refreshing since you’re so used to using first names anyway.

“Why are you picking with me…” You whine.

  “Because you don’t listen.” You scoff when Ema hums in agreement. “Traitor.” You grumble. 

“Mr. Snipe! Who are we getting?” Riko asks again. You are not surprised to see all of these people be thrilled about it. You raise your hand. 

“ What.” Snipe taps his foot, already tired and the day just started. “Is this going to get in the way of school or is this project not during class hours?” 

  “I forgot about that…” Riko sinks into her seat. Other complaints echo off the walls. Small voices finally decide to ask the right questions. Repeating yours, about finances, hero schedules, are we allowed to go into each other's dorms (of course, that was by Riko). 

  “This is all up to you. Now, they’ll be coming here soon. We’ll draw names then.” 

“What does that mean? How is it up to us?”

   Benio turns to you and says, “He means if we raise it right, it won’t go off. Depending on how good of a parent you are, kind of thing.”

You slump in your seat with growing stress. It’s going to grow. You’re not being graded on how much it cries or something like you did in middle school. No, this is like reality. Because of the hero course, you’re going to be somebody’s baby mama. 

“I hope I get Deku…” Ema says to herself and sports a light blush. She’s always been an Izuku Midoriya fan for as long as you’ve known her, which hasn’t been for very long. After the big showdown, he only had embers of whatever the hell the quirk was. Over time, he trained those embers to make them stronger and to be his own. No ghost guidance or whatever and a bad history attached. He was no longer All Might Jr., but Deku. Considered a hero in his own right. Plus, that new suit he got made him a hit among those who liked Batman or other comics. 

   At least that’s how you took the explanation? You're probably forgetting something but if you ask Ema, she’d go on and on. There aren't enough hours in a day for that. 

“I want Todoroki!” Riko squeals and bounces up and down in her seat. You can’t help yourself. “Girl, that’s dangerous.”

  “Making fun of what he’s been through isn’t funny.” Benio, a normal high schooler who is firm in his convictions, rebukes. You turn to him and look into his gold eyes. 

  “I’m not. I’m simply saying that the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. Plus, it’s also the reason for this assignment, right Snipe?”

  Your teacher looks up at you. He’s trying to make it seem that it is to benefit both courses but it’s just not. Not when this whole thing is caused by Endeavor and Touya. Clearly, U.A. is doing this for them, not for General Studies. He even said so. There is nothing for you here other than to train the future pros to be better parents so there wouldn't be another League. 

“Yes. It is also a new program that we’re trying whether you like it or not. It benefits everyone.” Snipe ends short. "What about necessities? Food, money, diapers, all of that. Do we buy our own or do you provide?"

You hate how you have to ask these questions. "U.A. has its own formula, bottles, and diapers. Due to it being mechanical, there's no way normal things would work."

"Do we pay for them?" Snipe nods slowly. Before you can complain again, the door opens and the veteran hero, Eraserhead, enters the room with his students. The future pros stand in line. The majority of them have smiling faces for their juniors. Some are blank. Since the big showdown, they have all grown. Taller, wider, buffer, smarter, all of it. It’s insane to think they were little twerps before. 

  “Where’s Deku?” Ema asks as she looks at all of them. Her pure black eyes survey the future pros. “He’s away right now! He’s training with his new suit, so he’ll be gone for a bit. But you have me!” Kaminari or Calamari whatever the fuck it is, smirks at her. 

   “No thanks.” You snort at her look of disgust. Lips curled, brows furrowed and she’s leaning back like she saw vomit. 

“Ouch.”

Hatsume enters the large classroom with a wagon in tow. All of the babies are of different colors and sizes. Some are very petite and others have rolls. They look like your average baby doll.

“Now class, listen up. We’ll draw names and to fit two parents together then you’ll get an assigned baby. We’ll provide birth certificates and activate the kid.”

  There is a feeling in your gut that this will not go well. You don’t mean to put it in the atmosphere at all. Since you’re stuck with this dumb thing, you hope you are wrong.

“Benio with Yaoyorozu.” You hear a curse under someone’s breath. He gets up and walks to your teacher for his baby. Benio and Yaoyorozu receive a normal sized baby. Benio quickly supports the head. In Yaoyorozu’s hand is the certificate wanting a name for it and their parent’s signature. 

  The door opens again and a hero course student from Class B walks in. If you remember right, he’s the drill guy. Someone who can turn his body really fast or something. He scratches his head and gives a short wave to the class. “Ah, there weren't enough students from the other General Studies.”

  “Alright, you and (Y/n).” You get up and go to the front to get your project. Mei hands it to you, not the future hero, and gives you the paper as well. You support the chubby baby’s head. Like your average doll, it has plastic skin and blank open eyes. You go back to your seat and wait for him. He stands there awkwardly. “Um, come with me.” 

“Why?” There are enough chairs for him, you note as you look around. Benio’s desk is empty. Snipe sighs. “(Y/n), go with him.”

“Why? This classroom is huge. He can sit down.” 

  “( Y/n), go.” Snipe points to the door. Slowly, you get up and head for the door, glaring at your teacher. You follow the drill guy closely. He opens the Class B room. You sit down and wait for him to follow you. Now that he’s next to you, he introduces himself. 

“I’m Sen Kaibara. Your name’s (Y/n)?” He has a small smile on his face. His eyes study you closely. You nod at his question. “Let’s get down to it.” You open the baby’s diaper and see that it’s a boy. “It’s a bouncing baby boy.” There are faint red spots on his legs. They aren’t bumps or anything. Maybe the diaper is too tight. You quickly close it before he pees on you. 

“Okay, what should we name him?” You have a few in mind. However, he also has a say in them and he probably won’t like them. Everything’s fine as long as the little boy has a name you can say and spell. Sen taps his chin and his eyes dart around. He snaps his fingers and asks, “How about my name?”

“No. And nothing I can’t pronounce, either.” He scoffs. “You’re not giving me a chance.” 

 “Neither are you. Something that we can both write and pronounce.” That’s it. In the end, that’s what you want. And for him not to be a junior. 

   The two of you decided on Noa, much to his annoyance. Clearly, you don’t get along. Not when it’s like this. All you asked was a simple thing. Yes, you can say Sen. But it doesn’t fit the baby. Yes, he can have a say so in the name. You only wanted a name you can spell and pronounce that doesn’t involve ‘junior’. It’s a name that both of you agreed with and is simple. 

   To you, it wasn’t difficult or a lot to ask for. To him, he’s red in the face as he turns it in. It was a simple disagreement. Why is he frowning so much? Snipe looks it over. “Ah, Noa? Nice name.” 

  Noa begins to get fussy. You look him over to see what’s wrong. You gasp at your discovery. His face changed from a baby doll look to one of an actual baby. His face is a mixture of yours and Kaibara’s. Honestly, mainly yours. Your eyes and mouth, especially. His plastic skin becomes soft like it's real and his weight now settles in. He looks and feels real.

   “That’s normal. Everything changes in time.” 

-------------

  

Unfortunately, things do change. Right as you adjust Noa so you are able to write, he freaks. Everyone’s head turns to you. Ema, God bless her, soothes you as you try to do the same to Noa. It’s crazy, you’ve baby sat before and aren’t bad with kids or babies. Yet with Noa you’re all thumbs. 

  “Bounce him gently. Do you have a bo-bo?” You snap your head. “A what?”

You can barely hear her over Noa's shrill cry. He shakes as he continues to wail. She shifts awkwardly. “A binky. A pacifier. It’s what we’ve always called it.”

  “I’m really irritated right now so usually I’d like, stab you or something but that’s cute.”

  Ema holds in a laugh. “Thank you for your generosity.” Mr. Snipe calls your name. “I know, I know! He won’t calm down.” 

  He sighs. “The bag we gave you has some supplies in it. The school’s formula, a bottle, a set of diapers, pamphlet all of that. Try different things,” He addresses the class. “Learn from this everyone. Plus, the items in the bag are samples. You’re going to have to do what you can by yourself.”

  You set the diaper bag between your knees and unzip it. Inside are the supplies Snipe mentioned. His screams get louder. Suddenly, another baby follows suit, awoken by Noa. Jule immediately glares at you. You mutter several apologies and fumble the silver formula packet which is surprisingly in a liquid form. 

  Your fingers shake whether from stress or the bouncing you're doing with your whole body, totally dedicated to the rhythm. You pour the contents in the red and white bottle to shake it. Putting it in his mouth, he refuses to suckle. 

“W-what?” You look at Snipe confused. He taps his foot and crosses his arms. Jule’s baby is quiet now, abruptly stops by your amazement. “How?” Jule shows you the bottle. “She’s hungry. Is Noa not-” 

“Let her deal with it.” Snipe sighs. Riko frowns. “Doesn’t it take a village to raise a child?”

  “Not for this project, no.” She sits up straighter. “Don’t you think you should be more patient? This was bound to happen.”

  “You,” He points to you. “Outside so we can continue class.” 

“Fucking asshole.”

“Watch it.”

You struggle to stand up without dropping him or anything else. Ema, bless her once more Lord, comes in and helps you with your things. You make haste to exit the classroom that is growing increasingly annoyed. 

  You try to feed him once again and when that doesn’t work, you set him on the ground to check his diaper. The redness is still there but he is dry. Throwing your hands in the air, you give up and head to Kaibara’s class. You don’t even bother to knock since literally everyone can hear you coming a mile away. 

   “Kaibara?” The class looks at you with their hero uniforms on. “Can you try? Nothing I’m doing is working.”

“I’m busy. I’ll visit later, okay? Try putting on a movie or singing to him or something. I gotta go.” He leaves you standing in the middle of his classroom.

“In the middle of school? Put on a movie in the middle of class?” You scoff and move in front of him, preventing him from walking away. Some of his classmates look at the two of you. You notice that not a single one of them have their babies. Their teacher, Dracula or something, pauses his speech and eyes you. “Kaibara, handle this as a father would. Alright class, let’s go.”

 “Kaibara-” He cuts you off with a short response. “Not now.” He rushes past you to join and laugh with his friends as Noa continues to cry. Dracula pats your shoulder and apologizes. 

______________

You decide to rock him rather than bounce. Soon after, he begins to quiet down, making you want to scream in his place. The bottle in your hand beeps. You look at it and see the word ‘spoiled’ on it with Hatsume’s face on it with a peace sign. 

  Still rocking him, you set your bag down on the ground to get a better look inside it to see how much you have. “No…” That was the only formula packet. Sighing, you pick it up and carefully rise up, with your knees cracking every inch. You head to the support course and walk inside. Power Loader is about to scold you for not knocking but stops himself immediately. “Is something wrong?”

“I need more formula, please.” Hatsume pops up out of nowhere. If you had the energy, you’d punch her for everything she’s ever done to you. 

  “Let me see, let me see!” She moves your arm enough to look at him. “Ah, he hasn’t grown; tsk, tsk.” You literally just got him. Like, a couple of hours ago.

 “Give me the formula.” 

  She sighs and shows you a set of packets and tells you the price. Your jaw drops. “You can’t be serious.” 

  “Yep, yep! Hand it over.” Regular formula is half the price and she’s handing you six packets. One per bottle. “Is one packet for one bottle?”

“Preferably. If you water it down then the baby isn’t getting the nutrients. Don’t try to skimp on my baby, little baby!” 

The door behind you opens and shuts. Benio comes to your side. “She keeps throwing up, is your formula faulty?”

  Hatsume twitches. “ No! These are based on real babies and not every baby can have the same formula.”

  She, again out of nowhere, brings out a pink pouch. “Specialized!” You’re about to have a heart attack when she tells him how much his is. It’s even more than yours. “Fine. I’ll take four cases.”

Ah, that’s right. His parents make a lot of money, and his stipend is more than yours. Because you are a scholarship kid, your amount is lower. No one has told you by how much, though. 

Embarrassed, you put up two fingers. She hands them to you and is gracious enough to place them in the diaper bag. Your eyes are downcast. 

  “Everything’ll be okay.” Hatsume says. You don’t ask what the money is for even though you are curious.

While you're here, you speak up to Noa's demonic creator. Ever since you got him, his groin has been red and irritated. You want to smack yourself when you finally piece together that he has a rash.

"Is there something wrong with the diapers? He's terribly red ever since it was put on him." You hand him over to her and she places him on a clear spot on her desk. "Ah, he's allergic! Good thing I have something for tha-"

"Special diapers?"

She puts her hands on her hips. "Why didn't you let me finish?"

"Let me buy them, please." You see the box of diapers in her hand. Already your stomach is in knots. Strangely, she looks into your eyes without a smile. No expression on her face. It looks like she's focused on you. "Are you okay?"

You nod and hum. It doesn't feel right to let this bother you.

 "Here's some samples. Let me know if they work, okay?" She hands you three blue diapers. Unlike the regular ones that have the U.A. design on them, this one is pure blue with the U.A. emblem on the top. You don't realize it until you quickly change Noa and see the redness start to fade. Your eyes are watery. Not to the point of tears rolling out but close enough that Mei cared.

You clear your throat. "I'll um, let you know. If they work, I'll buy some more."

___________________________

Sitting at your usual lunch table with Ema, Benio, and Riko, you struggle to eat your lunch one handed. The other is occupied with holding Noa. Luckily, he is peacefully sleeping.

“You should really get a carrier or a wrap. It’ll be much easier.” Ema, who got Kirishima, eats her piece of chicken. New voices are loud enough to gain your table’s attention. 

“Mm! Gotta go. We promised we’d sit together for the sake of our daughter.” She gets up and leaves you in awe of her communication skills. “I wish that were me. I can’t Yaoyorozu to sit still.”

“I don’t even want to.” Riko says. You forgot who she got but her forlorn face clearly says it’s not Todoroki. 

“Not many of them even carry their kids. Like, Kirishima is the first I’ve seen.” You point to him sitting next to Ema. She didn’t get Midoriya like she wanted. Nevertheless, she got one of the better ones out of the bunch. In fact, he’s bragging about her. Showing everyone his daughter like a real proud father. 

   “Damn it…” You mutter. Searching around the cafeteria, you say, “I can’t even see Kaibara. Maybe we should exchange numbers. I have to tell him that Noa can't have the regular diapers.”

“You don't have his number?” You shake your head no. Riko frowns and rocks her carrier. “(Y/n)! That's, like, the first thing you should do.”

“I know, I know. He ignores me, though! Today I couldn’t console Noa. So, I went to him for help and he totally blew me off. He didn’t even look at him. Like Benio over here, I cannot get this guy to sit still.”

“Try again. If I can get her to cough it up, you can too.” He finishes his plate fast. Benio rhythmically taps his foot. His eyes focus on the table, clearly pissed off. You want to reach out and tell him it’ll be okay. That she’ll come around and you are in this together. Right now, he’s at the stage where he’ll snap at anyone and you prefer to live.

“You guys are so lucky. I got stuck with a creep.” That can only be one person. You gasp. “That grape dude? He’s still alive?” You didn’t even see him in class. It was probably the Lord doing that.

“Yep,” She pops her ‘p’. She pushes her broccoli around. Riko tenses up and her bottom lip sticks out slightly. “All I get are innuendos. I want to meet up? He’ll flirt and suggest another child. I don’t feel safe at all.” She mumbles. Your protective instincts start to flare up. It’s not normal for you to feel this way, either. How could he do this? Yes, she’s smart and pretty. But that doesn’t mean jack crap. Being disgusting towards her is wrong. Where are his morals? She isn't interested. She said no!

   “If you want to have supervised visits, I’ll be happy to be there. Make it into a play date sort of thing.” It isn't much to offer but at least it's out there. Her lips wobble as she smiles at you. “I would like that, please.”

“Has it gotten that bad already? The project just started.” Benio rubs her back. “Yeah, already. He keeps blowing up my phone. I got in trouble for it in class, remember?” Yeah. English class was a sight when her phone vibrated so much it shook off the desk. The teacher's vein nearly popped due to the interruptions. 

   “Let me see.” Benio grabs her phone and checks. With every scroll his eyes get wider. “The fuck? We have to tell the teachers.”

“They’ll just say, ‘it’s like real life’.” She mimics their voice. You hold out your hand to reach her. Whatever is on that phone, has made Benio even madder. Steam practically comes out of his ears. “Yeah, but this is sexual harassment. Something that is punishable.” 

  “Will you go with me?” You and Benio don’t need to be told twice. You spot Kaibara with the red headed big hand girl. You get up and go to him. “I’ll be right back. When I get back, we’ll go directly to Snipe.”

  You make your way to him. He laughs and snickers with her, neither one having their baby in hand. “Yo, Kaibara.” 

  He stops and turns to you. “I need to talk to you.”

“I’m busy right now. I’ve worked hard, I’d like to eat.” You tap your foot and suck your lips in before you speak. “The only thing I see is you jaw jacking and not a single bit of food got in your mouth. All I’m asking for is a minute. I need to talk to you about our baby.”

"Fake baby."

The red head inhales her food. “Mm! That reminds me, I have to go find her. I promised I’d watch the baby.” 

“Watch? That’s your kid. You’re not babysitting, you're supposed to be raising.” 

   She freezes and you turn to Kaibara. “Come on.”

“After that? You broke her.” He grabs her hand and leads her to the rest of Class B. “At least take my number so we can communicate!” 

 “Later!” He meets up with his friends and Red looks back at me with a guilty look. She lets go of his hand and goes somewhere else. 

  “Come on, let’s go to Snipe.” You guide Riko up from the table. “What’re you going to him for?” Kaibara miraculously is able to hear you, apparently. He pokes his head up above his friends’ shoulders to peer at you. He goes behind one of them and asks again. 

“None of your business,” You snap. Your thumb rubs Riko's hand in an attempt to comfort her. “Come on.” Riko gets up and packs her things while Benio throws everything away. Sen calls out to you again, wondering why you’re going to Snipe. “Later!” You yell.

He really should’ve given his number.

---------------

You stand in the hallway with Benio. Both of your backs are leaning against the wall. You hear Riko’s muffled voice as well as Eraserhead and Snipe. The three of you called them together and showed them the messages. Benio didn’t see them all and you didn’t see a thing, which is probably for the best. Noa is still sleeping soundly in your arms. His chubby cheek is nestled close to your chest. You shift your weight on your feet and look at Benio from the corner of your eye.

“Do you think they’re giving him an excuse?” He rolls his eyes. “Don’t start that shit.” Benio snaps. You whip your head towards him. “I’m worried about her, you little bitch. No need to get snappy.”

“I’m worried too. Skank.” 

“Pfft!” You snort. For the first time during lunch period, he cracks a small smile. The door opens and you quickly straighten up. Riko comes out first. “Let’s go, you guys.”

“You sure?” 

“Yeah, we’re excused.” You nod and walk with her, Benio and the babies in tow. “What’s going to happen? Will you be okay?”

“I’ll be alright.” 

-------

  Your arms are becoming numb as you hold Noa. You still don’t have a carrier or the money to afford one. Looking around, everyone is more prepared than you or is just overall better. During lunch, a bunch of them rushed out to buy baby things. Smart bastards.

  Noa is squirming more than ever. He isn't crying (yet) but he looks uncomfortable. Maybe it’s gas? You have to document that on your project's papers. Snipe said to write down all the progress, costs, and at the end there will be a written assignment on all of the notes. It's a weird project and clearly an emotional one. 

“Sen? Sen?” You go yelling through the hallways of his dorm. Tetsutetsu gets up and goes to you with his baby in his arms. “What’s wrong? I can help.”

“Where is Kaibara?” 

“I don’t know. Maybe his room? Is everything okay?” You shake your head no. “No, nothing’s okay. He’s avoiding me and the baby. I need to talk to him.”

  Tetsutetsu clenches his fist. “Bet. Follow me.” He goes through the halls demanding to know where he is. Tetsutetsu barges into Kaibara’s room, the door swinging open so hard it now squeaks. He begins to yell, “ Take responsibility!”

 “Tetsu, what the hell?” Kaibara shoots up and closes his manga. “You? What’d you do, go to Snipe and have Tetsu on my ass?”

  “No, he did that on his own. We need to discuss the baby. Noa needs things and there are times when your schedule works better than mine. There’s so much we need to talk about.” Although a part of you wants to defend yourself for going to Snipe, it isn’t fair to Riko.

  “I got this, Tetsu.” Kaibara looks into Tetsutetsu’s eyes. “You better. You and the others are giving us a bad name.” 

  He leaves and gives you a nod. You shut the door behind him and hand the baby to Kaibara. “Kaibara, meet Noa. Noa, meet your dad.”

  “That’s not funny. And it is not right to embarrass me like that!” He holds Noa awkwardly and gives him a weird look, as if he's disgusted or freaked out.

“That’s what you’re worried about? We have a whole child right there-”

“He isn’t real!” He yells, surprisingly, not waking Noa up. Your anger begins to grow. “The costs are real! The necessities are real! The grade is definitely real!”

  “Is that what you want? Money?” How the fuck is that what he caught.

“Money? No. I want you to help. I can’t do everything on my own and worry about school. Let’s work on a schedule. Let’s get baby supplies. Communication is amazing, why not do it?”

   He brushes past you roughly, pushing you back a little. “Let’s go then.”

The two of you walk to a baby store, passing the many confused and worried expressions. He dips his head into his hoodie. “I should’ve hid my fucking face or something.”

You roll your eyes. “Did it occur to you that they’re staring at us because we’re two teens with a baby?” He scoffs, throwing the door open and doesn’t hold it for you.

 “Jerk.”

Inside, are rows of colorful clothes. Some are hero merchandise and others have cartoons. After the various clothing for all ages are bottles, diapers, binkies, and the like. In the back is the gold mine for children: lots and lots of toys. 

   “What about this?” You hold up a dinosaur shirt. He rolls his eyes and shrugs. “Can you hold him now?”

  This is the first time today you don’t have him and you're still taking care of him while your partner is right there. “No. It’s your quality time.”

  You put the dinosaur shirt in the cart. Suddenly, Noa screams bloody murder. You turn to Kaibara who’s freaking out. “What the fuck? He just started-”

“Is everything okay?” An employee comes up. Kaibara quickly gives him to you and says, “I gotta go.”

   “At least leave some cash!” He turns around and stomps to you. 

“Fucking knew it. Here.” He hands you twenty bucks. As he slams the door open and shut, he hides his face. You bounce Noa. “Is there a bathroom or something?”

“Yeah, come with me. Leave the cart.” 

In the bathroom, you lower the table. “I fed you, you took a nap, I changed you-”

She looks at his face. "Babies can sense things too, you know?"

You look up at the woman and ask what she meant. "Children can tell how a person is inside." She nudges her head to point out the door. "And that was clear as the sky today."

“Thank you for your help.” It took twenty minutes for him to calm down and thirty for you. The woman behind the counter is a God send. She’s helped you out more than Kaibara has, and you’ve only known her for a short amount of time. You called Snipe to let him know where you were, and he yelled at you for being late. Whatever. It’s his dumb assignment. 

   You put the supplies on the counter, fearing the cost. You grabbed a very cheap wrap, not yet being able to afford a proper carrier. You have his money, and the rest of yours. 

  She looks at you and looks at what’s on the counter. “This isn’t nearly enough. You got some of the essentials. Everything else is missing.”

   “I know, I know. I didn't have time to plan or anything. This was sprung on us today, remember?" You wished you had time to at least finance.

She tells you the total. What he gave you doesn’t cover anything but a few shirts and a bo-bo . You buy everything else with nothing left in your account until payday. 

-----------

As you go home, Noa decides that it's time to rest again. His soft pudgy face is peaceful and his breathing is steady. “I’m sorry about today. And that you still don’t have a bed…” You set him on your bed comfortably. Afterwards, you put everything away in the few drawers you have.

You are in awe of how little he is. Chubby but overall small. It’s ridiculous how much you spent on a fake baby though, no matter how cute. This entire thing is unorthodox even by U.A. standards. Students paying for things with their own money is just too much. How did they expect this to happen? Where is the money going to? 

It’s not a complete loss, anyway. Things can be recycled, donated, or sold at the end. You rub your face and look around at the lack of things he has. No bed, dresser, playpen, and the only toys he has are the stuffed animals that were on your bed. And he’s too young to be playing with them anyway. 

Even though he isn't real, he's not, this is still getting to you. It's way too familiar. You smack your cheeks. He's an assignment, a project, a doll. That's right, a doll. To the side is your white laundry basket. You grab it and put a spare pillow in it, just like you would with your baby dolls when you were a child. “Alright, let’s see if this works.”

   Nope, no it doesn’t. You groan and apologize to Noa, who still does not have a bed. That alone bothers you. He looks up at you for a moment then closes his eyes again. He gives a quick smile revealing two dimples on his chubby cheeks. You give him a little kiss. 

You gasp. You only had him for a day and you've become attached. Not to a serious degree but enough to warrant a kiss. Maybe it’s because of his likeness to being real. He actually looks like he’d be yours. He feels like a baby. The whole thing is confusing you and you think it’s popping your ovaries or something.

You suddenly feel heavy. Today has been nothing but draining. If you can get a few minutes in, just a few. You need to do the responsible thing and take your meds if you’re going to nap. The bottle is too far. The side of the bed your upper body is leaning on is so comfortable. Eyelids heavy, a yawn, and the day that has been so tiring. You just need a few minutes…

   There’s a knock on the door. You perk up and check on Noa, who is still asleep. You wipe your drool from your face and arm. Your knees crack in pain from sleeping on them. “I’m old, so, so old.”

  “Hello?” You say as you open the door. Ema bounces and excitedly tells you, “Deku’s on the phone!”

“Bitch, did you really wake me up for that?” It’s the audacity. The sheer amount of stupid is astounding. 

“Fucker. Anyway, come on! He’s face timing my baby daddy right now.”

  “Hold on, let me get Noa.” You grab your bag that has a pink dress uniform in it and then snatch his diaper bag off of your chair. Right as you're about to leave your room, your eyes find the long mirror. The dry erase marker is fading and needs to be redone, and you must put more reminders on it, too. 

  Your eyes stay there too long. You can feel yourself about to drift away in the color of a light purple and dark blue, swirling around each other with twinkling stars. The smell of lavender starts to push through the scent of the blown out candle in your room. A moon is peering out of the colors, soon to move and send you into another dream. 

  Suddenly, Ema yells your name. It comes into your head like an echo, something distant and not seen. You begin to come out of it when Noa starts to cry. You blink and wipe your eyes. Noa immediately stops crying. “Thanks, bud.”

Downstairs, Kirishima holds his phone out and talks. “We miss you! When are you coming back?” 

   “In a few weeks, I think? Maybe a month. I’m not sure but I'm making tons of progress! I'm starting to feel more secure in my suit."

You enter the commons and spot the spiky redhead talking animatedly to the green on the screen. "It's a cool suit! I like how it looks a lot like your usual-here she is. Her name's (Y/n). (Y/n), meet Izuku Midoriya."

  Your face then takes up the screen. Round green eyes meet yours. He doesn’t say anything at first, he just stares. Finally, he stutters as he introduces himself. Anytime he’s brought up, you’ve been shown this freckled baby face. Now, you’re looking at someone who’s gaining mature definition. His cheeks are a little slimmer and his scar adds a rugged look. His curls are no longer all over his head but are now neatly trimmed. All in all, he is not bad to look at. He’s surprisingly easy on the eyes. 

  “Okay.” Ema elbows you and tells you to be nice. “What? Why am I here?” You whisper back. You feel Midoriya’s eyes on you as you talk. 

“So you won’t be here for a while?” Kirishima sounds sad that his friend is still gone. “I’ll be there soon!”

“You just said-”

“No, no, no. I’ll be there!” He moves his phone in a way that covers the lower half of his face that is growing pink. 

Why are his eyes so round? He looks scared.

Ema chuckles under her breath and smiles at you. You look at the time and jump. “Shit! It’s been nice talking to you, but I’ve got to go.”

  “Alright, see you-”

“It was nice meeting you!” You stop and turn back to look at the green haired guy on the phone. He scratches his head and gives a close eyed smile. Kirishima tells him to calm down. Ema shakes her head slightly. The bright shine in her eyes is dimmed as they go to the floor. A small smile appears on her lips. “Oh, dear. Deku is something else.”

 You bid them goodbye and run to find him. Noa stays calm as you cradle him gently. Finally, you see him as you push past the doors of his dorm. Kaibara is in the Class B commons sitting with his phone in his hand and his bare feet propped up on the coffee table. Many of his class stand around and talk or do homework. You take a deep breath before you say anything, like ‘you’re not helping you dumbass maggot.’ or ‘eat the dust that Shigaraki himself made’. You want to be civil for now.

 “Kaibara, I need you for tonight.” And during the day too, preferably. He straightens up in his seat. Immediately, he frowns.  “What? In the morning-”

“Is your home room. Stop. I need you to watch him in the evenings after school.”

“Until when?” He harshly whispers, looking around at his friends, hoping they don’t see or hear this too much.

“Around seven or eight? I’ll call to let you know.” You take off the diaper bag. “Here you go. By the way, he wears special diapers that Hatsume makes so you'll need to go get some more. He's terribly allergic to the regular ones she makes.”

  “I-I can’t-” He stutters. Right now, he doesn’t look too much like a hero, just some punk ass teen in an Eeyore sweater whose mom just told him to watch his brother for an hour.

You hold up your hand. “You can, and you will. This is your son, right? Someone you wanted as a junior?” You hand him Noa, who is awake. “I’ll see you later, pumpkin.” You give Noa's cheek a poke.

  Kaibara is silent. Completely silent.

------------

“Benio? What’re doing?” You ask just as you’re about to head out of the U.A. gates. You didn't expect to run into him this time of day. He’s stomping with his kid in his arms. Last you saw her, she was wearing a basic outfit to go out. A purple onesie with a cheesey graphic design and some pants. Now she's in lavish clothing that you know he didn't give her. They look expensive and well put together. It's something an Instagram mom would make her kids wear; nothing like a child would be sporting if they had a normal parent. “She’s the fucking worst, I swear to God.”

“Who?”  He can’t possibly be talking about his baby. He likes the kid too much, even though he’ll deny it. The way he looks at her and can't stop cooing is too telling. He's taken gobs of pictures already and the project just started.

   “That bitch, Yaomomo. Or whatever the fuck people call her,” He growls. A pebble flies away by his kick. “You were right. I give up.” 

Your opinions can be controversial, especially in a hero loving society. So, him admitting that is pretty huge. Although you want to gloat, you can’t help but feel bad for him and his descent to anger and hate all caused by a stupid future pro.

[endless-ineffabilities]

of perilous desire

chapter one - se mōris (the end)

vampire!Aemond x f!reader (modern AU)

story synopsis: the reader works the night shift as a receptionist at the local hospital. Someone comes in one night to drop off a patient, and she subsequently suspects that this person is pursuing her. Why is there no real trace of him anywhere? Why does she see him in her dreams? Here begins a craving that may be never be satiated, a desire so perilous it might cost her everything...

word count: <1k ▪︎ masterlist

The night is young.

You've just made your third trip to the personnel break room, filling up on a much-needed caffeine fix, slumping back in your swivel chair in a bored huff.

It's 3 in the morning, which means you have four more hours to go. Oh joy.

Working in the hospital is decent enough; it pays the bills, it keeps you from being unemployed. But it feels like it's supposed to be a transitioning - a jumping off point into bigger and better things. When you were a child, your dream certainly was not to be a night receptionist at a hospital. But it's been a year, and you are still here for some reason.

Were you stuck? Perhaps you have grown complacent? You're meant to be doing something else, something worthwhile, and you know this. Granted, you do help people to some extent, but nurses and doctors are the true heroes.

Anyone with a semi-decent high school education can do your job.

The coffee is stale, and it suspiciously tastes of the antiseptic that is always in the air. You drink it anyway, grimacing with every sip.

The tap tap tapping of your pen against the desk distracts you, and it must have kept you from noticing the new arrival.

"Excuse me."

You snap up, half in a daze, the coffee doing nothing for your alertness.

And you see him. Clad in all black - leather overcoat, leather shoes, well-pressed trousers. Long white-blonde hair flowing smoothly down his back, neatly kept away from his face. One eye a blazing purple, the other a ghostly white. He looked like something out of the gothic romance novels you used to read in middle school.

Unusual. Poised. Beautiful.

You have to swallow hard in order to find the strength to speak."How... how can I help you, sir?"

"My... friend," he says, coolly maintaining eye contact that it's almost unnerving. Or maybe it's the effect he has on people, looking the way he does. "She needs some assistance."

"Oh," you stand up, looking behind him and seeing the woman slumped on the bench in the waiting area. Leaning against one arm, with her black hair partially obscuring her face. She blinks as if in a stupor when the man glances at her, smiling goofily despite her state. "Is she alright?" you ask him, and he doesn't answer, only continuing to stare at you. You press on the paging system, calling on a nurse to come her aid.

You come over and crouch down in front of her. "What's happened? Can you tell me your name?"

She giggles wildly, like you just cracked the funniest joke. "My name is Alys," she says. "At least I think so." You notice her pallid complexion, her lips taking on a bluish tint. She appears to be awake but not truly aware of her surroundings.

The nurse on duty is taking a while, so you turn back to the man. "What happened to her? Does she have a concussion? Are you her husband or a relative?"

Seconds pass. You look at him expectantly, but he gives you nothing. He tilts his head at you, eyes narrowing, like a predator sizing up his prey.

"Hmm," he finally makes a sound, though it isn't really a response.

Growing impatient, you stride behind your desk and recover the necessary forms. "I'm going to need you to fill these - "

When you turn to address him, he's gone.

One of the nurses, Patrick, arrives to assist the woman called Alys.

He goes through the motions, flashing a penlight in her eyes, checking her pulse, asking her simple questions to keep her conscious.

"She came in alone?" he asks you, as he waves another nurse to come help.

"No," you shake your head, "her companion was just here. A man - "

"What man? Did he run away or something?"

Did he? He had seemingly vanished in a split second, and you were sure you didn't hear him rushing out the front doors. You didn't hear anything at all.

"I don't know," you shrug, confused. "He didn't even fill in a form or anything."

The nurses manage to situate Alys in a wheelchair, the dark-haired woman still smiling and mumbling to herself. Just as they wheel her away, you hear her soft voice crooning, "Ae-mond, oh, my Aemond!"

"Well, shit," you mutter, the momentary commotion had come and gone. The coffee still sits on your desk, now cold. The air still smelled of sickening sterility.

You were still, as dramatic as it sounds, lost and adrift. You snort to yourself. What a thought.

If only you could have your head in the clouds, all blissed out, like the Alys woman. Though her state was likely brought on by hard drugs.

Or was it him?

Everything is the same. Except that the stranger has become ingrained your mind.

Who was he?

An hour later, you stand outside in the portico, cigarette balanced between your fingers. It's a nasty habit, sure, but people would probably be shocked at how common it is among the hospital staff. The nurses, even.

You're supposed to feel terrible about it, working at an establishment that champions health, but you justify it in that you're just a receptionist. Weren't the medical professionals the real hypocrites? How else will you keep awake?

The smoke billows out of your lips. You watch their shapes dissipating in the cold morning air, entranced.

Suddenly, you sense something shuffle from the corner of your eye. Shivers erupt all over your arms, your mind immediately grasping at the worst possible scenario.

"Hello?" This is how the side characters die in horror movies, quickly and unceremoniously, forgotten before the main act actually begins. Your shaking hand squashes the cigarette down on the wall-mounted ashtray.

It was probably nothing, likely one of the stray kittens running around. Despite that, you determinedly walk back to the entrance, fists bunched in your pockets.

Then there's something again. A gust of wind. A flash of pale blonde hair. A feeling like you're being watched.

Is the entrance so far? You're going to get kidnapped, you're sure of it.

The doors are in sight, those lifeless glass windows within reach, when you're spun around swiftly that you don't have time to think of anything at all.

You're floating, your feet had left the ground.

Pushed into something smooth, cocooned around your paralysed form. Leather.

He hushes you, brushing his lips against your cheek, featherlike, careful not to make full contact. You want to fight, you should fight, but you can't.

Something coaxes you into accepting this, so you do.

The painful prick against your neck is momentary. Followed by complete and utter bliss.

Your final thought is the word Alys was singing so sweetly. That strange name, which now exits your lips like a prayer.

"Aemond."

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a/n: me 🤝 running with new ideas before even finishing my ongoing series works!!! I've always wanted to do a vampire Aemond fic. Call this a tester/taster (literally, in Aemond's case). Let me know what yous think, and we'll see how it goes!