#but once the trust is built enough to talk about it it makes their relationship stronger imo | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

wolverigrl · 3 months ago

Text

Rumors

Hugh Jackman x reader (actress)

Warnings: smut! Only 18+!, swearing, angsty, fluffy

!Disclaimer! If you'd like to skip the smut, scroll down as soon as you see "---" in the text. From there, the smut part begins and ends at the next "---"!

Enjoy!

Previous Part

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It's been five months. Five months since our first date, and yet somehow, it feels like both forever and no time at all.

I sit here now, in the gym, watching him lift weights like it’s nothing, and I’m struck by just how lucky I feel. From the very beginning, it was like we found our rhythm without even trying - our relationship is built on mutual respect and trust. We give each other space when needed, and t's refreshing to be with someone who values independence as much as I do.

The dates we've had so far have been perfect in their own way. Our second one was at this hidden gem of a restaurant tucked away in the city. I remember how he laughed when I spilled wine on the tablecloth, and how his hand brushed mine as we reached for the same napkin. We've done simple things too, like grabbing coffee early in the morning or working out. Once, we spent an afternoon at an old bookstore, getting lost in the aisles of dusty novels and sharing passages that made us laugh. Every moment with him feels like a memory in the making

And yet, it all changed a little last month when we were spotted. We hadn't been careful enough. A quick kiss in a park, something so innocent, but the paparazzi caught us. The next day, our picture was splashed across every tabloid and social media. That unintentional confirmation of our relationship wasn't what we had planned. Neither of us wanted the world in on our private lives.

Still, we've dodged every question thrown at us in interviews or on social media. But avoiding the questions doesn't stop the criticism.

The age gap. It's what everyone seems to latch onto. Hugh's used to it - He’s been doing this long enough to know how to handle the press, the rumors, the gossip. But me? I’m still learning how to deal with it. I try to act like it doesn't bother me. I nod along, tell everyone I'm fine, but inside, it's harder than I thought it would be. Some of the comments sting more than I care to admit. I've been in relationships before, but none of them were "public" like this. My exes were all from my private circle - well, except for Chris, but that doesn't count. That was way before either of us was well-known. This, with Hugh, is different. It's out there.

I didn’t want that. I wanted to keep us private for a while longer, to hold onto this little piece of normalcy for just us. But now it’s out, and there’s no taking it back.

Now everything is under scrutiny. People question our relationship and my motives. Of course there are fans who are supportive - sweet comments, even some who come up to me on the street and say they love us together. But then there are the others. The ones who say I’m only with him to advance my career, that I’m using him to get ahead. Ever since our last movie together, I’ve been getting bigger roles, and some people think that’s because of him. Like I can’t earn anything on my own.

I try to brush it off, but there are moments when those words hit hard. And even though Hugh has told me a thousand times to ignore it. I’m not like him. I haven’t been in the spotlight for decades. I don’t have the thick skin he’s developed over the years.

Our managers weren’t thrilled either when they found out we’d been seeing each other behind their backs. It wasn’t anger, really, more disappointment that we hadn’t trusted them enough to let them in on it. But in a way, I’m glad we didn’t. We needed this to just to be ours for a while.

Still, despite all the noise, the criticism, the rumors—there’s comfort between us. We act like a real couple. We’ve never had the talk, though, about what we are exactly. Are we officially together? I don’t even know. We’ve just kind of fallen into this routine, and honestly, love it. I love the way he makes me feel like I’m the only person in the world when we’re together.

My eyes drift back to him as he lowers the weights, his muscles tensing with the effort. He's ridiculously strong, and I'd be lying if I said it wasn't a turn on. God, he’s attractive. And sweet. And patient. And funny. Sometimes I catch myself even fangirling. I mean, it's still Hugh fucking Jackman. How did I get so lucky?

“You good, y/n?" Hugh’s voice snaps me out of my thoughts, and I realize I’ve been staring.

“Yeah." I say, quickly covering up my awkwardness with a grin. “Just appreciating the view.”

His eyes narrow, that playful smile tugging at his lips. He walks over, sweat still glistening on his skin, and towers above me, crossing his arms. “You know, you could’ve just taken a picture.”

“Maybe I will next time,” I tease, leaning back on the bench.

He chuckles, the sound warm and rich. “Or you could just join me instead of sitting over there like a creep.”

“Please. I did twice as many reps as you did earlier,” I say, pretending to wipe imaginary sweat from my brow. “I deserve a break.”

“Is that right?” He raises an eyebrow, leaning down so we’re almost face-to-face. “Pretty sure I saw you struggling with those squats.”

“I wasn’t struggling." I protest, trying to keep a straight face, but his cocky grin is making it impossible.

“You say that now, but your form—”

“My form was perfect!” I laugh, pushing his arm lightly. “Stop acting like you weren’t impressed.”

“Oh, I was impressed." he admits, his voice dropping an octave. “Just not with your workout.”

The heat between us flares up in an instant, the way it always does when he looks at me like that. There’s this pull, this magnetic energy that I haven’t felt in a while. We flirt, we tease, we push each other’s buttons, and it’s exhilarating. But there’s always this line we haven’t fully crossed yet. We get close - so close - but we always pull back.

We go back and forth like this until we wrap up our workout. Hugh's leaving for Sydney tomorrow to visit his family for a few weeks, but his kids won't be able to join him because they're going on holiday with their mom, so it'll just be him this time

I'll admit, I already miss him so much. I don't really know what to do yet. So far, we've spent pretty much every day together, but now that the interviews are slowly getting fewer and everyday life is getting quieter, it's getting boring without someone to keep me on my toes. I guess Ryan and Blake will have to take over.

After the gym, we head back to his place, still bickering about who did better with which exercises. By the time we're on the couch, it's turned into playful shoving and teasing until his lips are on mine, and everything else fades away. God, I’ve missed this. I’ve missed the way his lips feel on mine, the way his touch sets my skin on fire.

But just as things are about to cross that line again, I pull away, leaving him breathless and staring at me in confusion.

"You’re impossible." he mutters, running a hand through his hair, frustration evident in his voice.

I smile sweetly, standing up and stretching. “I need a shower.”

"You’re an absolutely evil woman!" he calls after me as I walk toward the bathroom, but I don’t turn around. I can feel his eyes on me the whole way.

I can't help but smile to myself as I undress and step into the shower. The hot water cascades down my skin, but my mind is elsewhere - back on the couch, replaying the way his hands felt on me, the way his breath hitched when I kissed him. It's getting harder to hold back, to not give in to the growing desire between us. We've come close before - so many times - but for some reason, we always stop right pefore things get too far. It's like we're both waiting for the perfect moment. I'm not in a rush, but God, he makes it so hard to resist.

But it’s not just physical. It’s him. It’s the way he looks at me, the way he makes me feel seen. I’ve never been so comfortable with someone, and that scares me a little. I’m falling for him - hard - and I’m terrified of what that means. We’ve never even talked about what we are, and here I am, thinking about how much I want him, how much I love him.

The thought stops me in my tracks. Am I in love with him? My heart pounds in my chest, and I realize that, yes, I probably am. But I don’t know if he feels the same way. What if this is just something casual for him? What if I bring it up, and he doesn’t feel the same? He’s never pressured me, never pushed for more, and sometimes I wonder if he’s happy with how things are - just casual, just fun.

When I'm done, I slip into my pajamas - just a simple tank top and shorts - and head into the bedroom. Hugh's sitting on the edge of the bed, scroling through his phone, but he glances up when I walk in.

"Took you long enough." he says with a mischievous grin. "Were you thinking about me in there?"

I smirk, leaning against the doorway.

"Maybe?"

He laughs, setting his phone down and standing up. He walks over to me, placing one hand on my hip, the other cupping my face. His lips brush mine in a teasing kiss, his hand sliding down to give my ass a playful squeeze.

"Behave." I mutter, but my voice betrays me, sounding more breathless than I intended.

"Why? I thought you like it when I don’t." he says, that teasing grin never faltering.

Before I can respond, he pulls away and heads to the bathroom. "I'll be right back."

I sighed and lay down on the bed and looked thoughtfully at the ceiling.

Before I can lose myself in my thoughts again, I hear the water turn off, and a minute later, Hugh steps back into the room, still dripping wet and wrapped only in his towel, which hangs dangerously low. I can't take my eyes off him. He's searching through the dresser, muttering something about forgetting his boxers, but I don't hear the words. My heart pounds in my chest, and I know - I know - this is it. I can’t hold back anymore.

Without second guessing, I get up and cross the room, moving toward him without a word. He watches me, his brow furrowing in slight confusion, but there’s something else there too.

When I reach him, I stop, just inches away, and look up at him. I don’t say anything for a long moment. I just let myself feel the weight of this moment.

---

Finally, I find my voice, though it’s softer than I expected. “I want you.”

His eyes widen slightly, and for a moment, I think I’ve surprised him. But then, something shifts in his expression, and the air between us thickens. He steps closer, his hand coming up to cup my cheek as he studies my face.

“Are you sure?” His voice is low, husky, and I can see the restraint in his eyes. He’s giving me an out. One last chance to change my mind. But I don’t want out. Not anymore.

“Yes." I whisper, barely able to speak past the lump in my throat. “I’m sure.”

That’s all it takes. In an instant, his lips are on mine, and the kiss is different this time - deeper. Hungrier. His hands move to my waist, pulling me against him, and I wrap my arms around his neck, melting into his touch.

Before I know it, he’s lifting me off the ground, my legs wrapping instinctively around his waist. I can feel the heat radiating off him, the roughness of the towel against my skin. His grip tightens, and I’m suddenly aware of just how much I want him - how much I’ve always wanted him.

The kiss grew more intense, more desperate, and I can feel the last remnants of our restraint crumbling. He carries me over to the bed, his towel loosening around his hips, and gently lays me down. Our breaths are ragged, our bodies pressed together in a way that makes it impossible to think of anything else.

His kisses moved to my neck while one of his hands disappeared under my top. I gasped softly and ran my hands over his strong back. He began to gently squeeze my breast as I pressed his hips against mine with my legs, clearly feeling his arousal. Breathing heavily, he rubbed his groin against me and applied more pressure to my breast.

"Please." I said softly and looked at him greedily. "Please what, love?" he broke away from my lips and straightened up a little to get a better look at my face.

I couldn't help myself and looked down to his towel, which was now hanging down so low that you could see his perfect v-line clearly, as well as the vein under his belly button.

I swallowed and also straightened up to pull my top over my head.

"Fucking hell." he muttered quietly. I lay back down with my arms over my head and looked straight at him. "Just stop holding back and fuck me already."

He didn't need to be told twice and leaned over me again. The kiss was wilder than before and I felt like his hands were everywhere. I was in such a trance that I didn't even notice that he had already thrown my shorts on the floor. It was only when I felt his fingers on my clit that I realized it. I gasped out loud and dug my fingers in his hair and shoulders as he caressed my neck and circled his thumb over my clit. I was a complete wreck. Everything happened so quickly, but somehow it also didn't. I pressed my knees into Hugh's sides and pushed my pelvis towards him as he slid two fingers inside me. I moaned loudly and pushed my head back into the pillow. Suddenly I felt an electrifying sensation as he ran his tongue around my breast and sucked on it. He curled his fingers in and moved his hand faster. I moaned loudly again and pressed my nails firmly into his shoulder as a pleasurable feeling came over me in my abdomen.

Hugh's kisses moved back up to my lips until he released his heavy breath and slid his fingers out of me.

He looked at me full of lust and totally befuddled. I had never seen him like this before. But seeing him like this almost made me go crazy myself. He smiled gently at me and stroked a few strands of hair from my face. "You're so damn beautiful."

I felt my face flush and ran my hands down his torso to his dick, smiling. He breathed heavily and closed his eyes as I slowly began to stroke him.

I clenched around nothing and bit my lip as I looked at him.

He looked at me again, bent both my legs and pulled my hands away, to stroke his own member. He rubbed his pre-cum wet tip against my clit and looked deep into my eyes. It made me absolutely feral.

"Hell. Stop fucking teasing!" I growled. Without another word, he slid into me and put my legs over his shoulders. I moaned loudly and curled my toes. He was breathing heavily and you could see how much he was controlling himself.

"You're so fucking tight." He slowly began to move his hips and it drove me wild when I felt him filling me up. "Baby please don't hold back." I moaned and closed my eyes.

"Eyes on me my love." he groaned and thrusted harder. I gasped, a little startled, and looked him straight in the eyes. My hands disappeared into his hair again and his speed increased steadily. I felt everything slowly boiling up inside me and I clenched hard around his dick. That eye contact. His moans. The sounds of our bodies hitting each other and the thick air in the room. Everything began to spin around me and I could no longer maintain eye contact.

"I'm gonna cum!" I moaned as I felt him thrusting even deeper than before. Hugh now closed his own eyes, let my legs off his shoulders and pressed both my hands over my head with one hand to stimulate my clit with the other. He was panting loudly himself. "Cum for me baby. I wanna see how you cum all over me."

That gave me the rest and for a brief moment I thought I was seeing the white light. My legs were shaking like crazy and I felt an incredible pull in my abdomen. Hugh moaned with me and let go of me to support himself with his forearms next to my head instead.

Panting, he rested his head in the crook of my neck while I stroked his sweaty back. Shortly afterwards, I felt his rhythm become more and more irregular until he did a last hard thrust and moaned loudly. The sound of his voice and the feeling of his pulsing dick made my skin crawl and I pressed myself tightly against him with my legs and arms.

There was complete silence for a moment. I could only hear our panting and our heartbeats in the room.

I felt his semen leaking out of me and slowly running down my bottom.

Hugh pulled away to lay down next to me and pulled me to his side before kissing me on the forehead. I smiled at him and stroked his sweaty chest with my hand.

"We should probably have done it before the shower." Hugh said with a smirk and looked at me.

"Or in the shower." He laughed and nodded.

---

After cleaning up, we lay together, our bodies entwined under the blanket. The room is quiet, except for the sound of our breathing slowly returning to normal. Hugh is beside me, his arm draped over my waist, his fingers lazily tracing patterns on my skin. I can feel the rise and fall of his chest against my back, and there’s a comfort in the silence between us.

But there’s also a weight, a need to say something. To define this.

I shift slightly, turning so I can face him. His eyes meet mine, and for a moment, neither of us says anything. Then, softly, I ask. "Do you ever… worry? About what people say about us?”

His brow furrows slightly, and he brushes a strand of hair from my face before answering. “What people say? You mean the age thing?”

I nod, feeling a lump in my throat. “Yeah. And the way they watch us. The paparazzi, the rumors… It’s just hard sometimes.”

He presses a soft kiss to my forehead, his hand gently cupping the back of my head. “I know it’s hard, y/n and I’m sorry you have to deal with all that because of me.”

“It’s not your fault,” I say quickly. “I just… sometimes I don’t know how to handle it. But I don't want to be that person who lets the outside world affect what we have." I whisper. "But sometimes it just... gets to me."

"You're not that person." he assures me, his voice firm but gentle. "You're human. And it's okay to feel that way. The important thing is that we talk about it, like we're doing now.. And you don’t have to handle it alone." he murmurs, his lips brushing my temple. “I’m here. We’re in this together.”

His words are soothing, but there’s still a part of me that struggles with the reality of our situation. I bite my lip, hesitating before speaking again. “Sometimes I wonder… if maybe we shouldn’t—”

“Hey." he interrupts softly, his thumb grazing my cheek. “Don’t go there. We’re good, okay? We’re more than good.”

I close my eyes, leaning into his touch. “I know. I just don’t want it to get too complicated.”

Hugh is silent for a moment, then he asks quietly. “Would it help if we made it official?”

I blink, my heart skipping a beat. “Official?”

He gives me a small smile, his eyes soft as he looks at me. “Yeah. Maybe then they will stop harassing us with their questions." For a moment we both were silent before he started to speak again. "Like… would you want to be my girlfriend?”

My heart swells at the simplicity of his question and made me speechless. Then I slowly nod, a smile spreading across my face. “Yeah." I whisper. “I’d like that.”

He grins, pulling me closer and pressing his lips to mine in a soft, lingering kiss. We stay like that for a while, wrapped in each other, content.

After a while, he pulls back, looking thoughtful. “You know, I’m heading to Australia tomorrow to visit family.”

I nod, already knowing. “Yeah, you mentioned that. How long will you be gone?”

“A few weeks." he says, his fingers brushing over my arm absently. “But… I was thinking. What if you came with me?”

I blink in surprise. “To Sydney?”

“Yeah. I mean, only if you want to. No pressure. I just thought it’d be nice… spending some more time together. Away from all this.”

I hesitate, the idea both exciting and terrifying. “I don’t know, Hugh. It feels… fast. I haven’t even met your family yet.”

He chuckles softly. “You wouldn’t have to. Not unless you wanted to. It can just be the two of us. We can do whatever you want. I just want to spend time with you."

I smile softly at his words, feeling my heart swell.

“I’ll think about it,” I say softly, leaning my head against his chest. His heartbeat is steady beneath my ear, a calming rhythm that soothes the anxiety swirling in my mind.

“Good,” he murmurs, running his fingers gently through my hair. “That’s all I ask. No pressure.”

I bite my lip, thinking it over. The idea is tempting - really tempting.

"Okay." I say, making the decision. "I'II come. But maybe I'll fly out a week later. That way I can maybe meet up with Blake and Ryan, maybe even visit Chris in Boston."

Hugh nods, a relieved smile spreading across his face. "Deal. A week later, and we'll have the best time. Just you and me."

We share another soft kiss, and can't help but laugh against his lips.

After our conversation, we lay there for a little while longer, basking in the afterglow of everything we’d just shared. The weight that had been pressing on my chest for weeks felt lighter now that we’d talked about it.

Eventually, we sat up, and the idea struck me - if we were really ready to move forward, maybe it was time to let the world know about us on our own terms.

“I was thinking…” I start, glancing over at him. “We should post a photo of us."

Hugh’s eyebrows lifted in slight surprise. “You sure about that?”

I nod, feeling a sense of resolve I hadn’t felt before. “Yeah. I mean the media already knows about us and we can't hide anymore. So why not?"

A smile tugs at his lips, and he reaches for his phone on the bedside table. “Alright, I’m in. Let’s take a picture then.”

I chuckle. “But maybe we should put on some clothes first?”

Hugh laughs softly, the sound sending a warmth through me. “Yeah, I suppose we shouldn’t scandalize the internet too much.”

As I sit up, I catch a glimpse of my reflection in the bedroom mirror and grimace slightly. My hair’s a mess from… well, everything, and I’m definitely not looking my best. “Ugh. I look awful.”

Hugh stands up and shakes his head with an amused smile. “You look perfect,” he says, casually reaching into his closet for a shirt. He pulls one on, his muscles stretching the fabric in a way that makes it hard for me to focus. “Come on, we’ll take a cute one.”

I roll my eyes playfully but grab one of his T-shirts from the drawer. “Fine, but if I look weird, we’re deleting it.”

“No way!” he teases, pulling me into his arms once I have the shirt on. “You could never look weird.”

I can’t help but laugh as he wraps his arms around me from behind. He holds the phone up in front of us, angling it to get the perfect shot. “Okay, smile!”

I glance up at him just as he snaps the picture. My smile turns into a laugh, the joy bubbling out of me before I can stop it. I look ridiculous, but when I see the photo, it’s kind of perfect. Hugh’s grinning at the camera, looking all charming and effortlessly handsome as always, while I’m gazing up at him, clearly laughing and obviously so in love.

I bite my lip, hesitating. “I don’t know… I look a little -"

“You look great." Hugh cuts in, his tone firm but soft. “Come on, y/n. This is us. It’s real.”

I glance at the picture again. He’s right. It’s not some polished, perfect photo shoot - it's just us. Happy, in love, and completely ourselves. I sigh, giving in. “Okay, fine. Let’s post it.”

He beams at me, clearly pleased, and starts typing a caption on his phone. I lean over his shoulder to read it:

>>thehughjackman: Caught laughing at all the rumors... guess they weren't all wrong🤫 #couplegoals<<

I laugh, rolling my eyes playfully "#CoupleGoals? Really?"

"You're right." he says, smirking as he backspaces. "How about.. #HughJackedY/n?"

I swat him laughing, and he finally posts it without any hashtag.

I take my smartphone and also post it with another caption:

>>y/ninstagram: Who knew Wolverine was such a softie?❤️🐺<<

And just like that, it’s out there. The world now knows officially. My heart pounds a little faster as the notifications start rolling in almost instantly. I feel a rush of nervous excitement—what will people say?

We sit there, watching as the comments flood in, one after another.

>>vancityreynolds: Took you long enough!<<

>>blakelively:This is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. Love you both!<<

>>ChrisEvans: Treat her right or Cap's coming for you!💪🏻<<

>>zendaya: Omg, stop! You guys are ADORABLE<<

>>officialladydeadpoolmovie: Deadpool approves of this union. Carry on.<<

I glance at Hugh as the comments keep pouring in, feeling a strange mixture of warmth and relief. There’s so much love here—so many people supporting us. It’s overwhelming in the best way.

“I told you it’d be fine,” Hugh says, his voice soft. He nudges me gently with his shoulder. “And look, everyone’s happy for us.”

I smile at him, feeling lighter than I have in days. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

More comments continue to roll in, some from fans, some from friends:

>>florencepugh: I KNEW IT!!!<<

But it’s the fan comments that really make me smile:

>>lordyx3z: Omg, I knew they were together! This makes me so happy!🥹😩<<

>>serenax77: Remember when y/n literally said 'fuck me' during an interview? Manifesting at its finest😂😂😭<<

>>hugh4ewa: Hugh, blink twice if y/n's forcing you to post couple pics😂<<

>>y/nno1fan: About damn time! Y'all had me waiting like the post credits scene of a Marvel Movie!<<

>>mynameseve: I need somebody to look at me, like y/n looks at Hugh😭❤️<<

>>girlpoolxpoppins: Can somebody pls check on Ryan? ASAP<<

>>boyinyellwspndx: y/n: "fck me!" - Hugh: "Say less". Dreams come true folks<<

I can’t help but grin at the flood of positivity. Sure, I know there will be some haters - there always are - but for now, it feels like we’re surrounded by love and support, and that’s all that matters. I glance at Hugh again, my heart swelling as he scrolls through the comments, laughing at some of the more playful ones.

“This was a good idea.” I say quietly, resting my head on his shoulder.

He turns his head slightly, pressing a kiss to my temple. “Of course it was.” he murmurs. “Now everyone knows you’re officially mine.”

I laugh softly, my heart feeling full. “And you’re mine.”

We sit there for a while, reading through the comments and enjoying the moment. It feels like a weight has been lifted, like we’re finally free to be ourselves without worrying about what anyone else thinks.

And honestly? It feels perfect.

---------------------------------------------------

@spectorrrhgf @tinawantstobeadoll @appetencyfortacos @weskerussy @kellyxo1 @larkkyoris @shukirschtein14 @corvusmorte @carefree-flowerchild @rexmeshlasblog @melmel-fandom @needz1nk @nonamevenus @morganlolitta @angelofthorr @pickuptruck01

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satorusugurugurl · 5 months ago

Note

i love everything you write like i wake up just to read them over and over again. could i request some more angst to smut please (*꒦ິ꒳꒦ີ)

JJK Men: Going from angsty to smutty!

Characters: Nanami Kento, Geto Suguru, Gojo Satoru, AFAB!Reader

Warnings: fighting, yelling, curing, smut, unprotected smut, creampies, dirty talk, making up, mentions of blood and death (Suguru’s) spitting daddy!kink, oral sex, male receiving

Word Count: 8,140 (oops)

A/N: HI Nonnie thank you for the request!! I'm so glad you're enjoying my stuff!! I had a lot of fun with these! I hope you enjoy! Love u! 💚💚💚

Nanami Kento:

Nanami Kento was leaving you again.

He left you once after you graduated high school, giving up the Jujutsu world for his salary job. That nearly destroyed you. You begged him to stay, but once he made up his mind, there was no changing it. So he left and was gone for four years. Until one day, he called Gojo, telling him he wanted back in.

Of course, you were happy to see him back, but you were hesitant to get close to him again. But fate had other plans for you. Everywhere you went, he was always there. Whether you were getting drinks at the vending machines, in the break room, walking around school, or grabbing drinks with your coworkers and friends afterward. He'd always give you a sweet smile and motion to a spot next to him, to which you would refuse until you drunkenly made the mistake of stumbling over to him one night.

He looked so handsome, his hair pushed back, tie discarded, and top buttons undone on his dress shirt. Watching him chug down his beer with a slight flush dusting his cheeks made you feel stupid emotions like longing, lust, happiness, and hopefulness. Maybe if you were to open the door to a relationship with him, it would work out. Both of you have matured so much over the years. Maybe if you gave it another shot, it would work this time.

The night you threw your arms around him after downing a ton of shots to give you the liquid courage even to approach him, he was kind enough to make sure he drank water, took you, and told you you would discuss it in the morning when you woke up the next day with the pounding headache, Nanami was there with aspirin and a water bottle. Even without the alcohol, you were able to tell him that you missed him; you missed the two of you together.

And Nanami felt the same.

That morning led to make-up sex and the beginning of your relationship for a second time—one stronger than the first, built on truth and trust. You never kept anything from each other, always being honest about how you felt and what you wanted in the future. Life had been great until he took you to dinner one late fall evening.

“I’m leaving for Malaysia in a month.” His words felt like he’d stuck red hot needles into your lungs, making breathing hard as your fork fell out of your hand, clanking against your plate. “I bought a property on the beach and will build a house there.”

“Y-You—you’re leaving?”

“Yes, I finally have enough money saved up that I can leave this place, not have to work, and spend the rest of my days reading the books I haven’t gotten a chance to— .”

Your timid voice interrupted him. “You’re leaving me?”

“Darling, it’s not—”

You grabbed your phone, fighting against the burning sting in your eyes. “No, it is.” You were not going to cry, not in front of him. “You’re leaving me again, Kento.” You shook your head, running your hand down your face with a pained laugh. “Oh my god, I’m such an idiot.” Without another word, you stormed out of the lounge room, your heart breaking with every step you took.

It felt like the walls around you were closing in on you. Your chest felt tight as you took deep, ragged breaths, trying to calm yourself down, as tears finally breached the wall you had put up around yourself. The instant those tears ran down your cheeks, your momentum faltered, the stride you had crashing down. You fell to your knees, gripping at your chest as the future you pictured with Nanami slipped away like a film strip burning after too much use.

He always thought about leaving, building a house on the beach somewhere. It was never about the two of you leaving together. Never ‘we’re’ going to build a house. ‘We’re’ going to live in Malaysia. It was always him. And you thought since you both matured, things would be different; maybe since you were sleeping together and you were supposedly in love, he would take you with him next time. Of course, that was a moronic and naïve thought.

You were losing him all over again.

When you finally came to your senses, you hurried back to your apartment. You tried making dinner, watching a movie, doing anything to distract yourself from the pain that had settled in your heart. But anytime a second passed when you weren't busy, moving, or thinking, Nanami’s words whispered in the depths of your mind.

How could he just up and leave you like this again?! It hurt so bad; it was almost soul-crushing. After all the plans you had made, like getting married when you retired, and the places you'd see. All those plans were suddenly garbage because he could finally live out his dreams. Dreams that you should be happy about! You didn’t want your boyfriend to continue to suffer in a job he disliked, constantly working overtime, wasting his life away.

What hurt the most was that he didn't even ask if you wanted to come with him!

The hurt slowly turned into rage, so hot and heavy that you didn't hear the door to the apartment creak open. Nor did you hear said boyfriend's keys dropping into the bowl on the entry table. You did, however, feel his hand gently grabbing your shoulders. To which you pulled away.

“Don't fucking touch me!” You barked out, whirling around, jabbing your finger into his chest. “I don't fucking want you touching me!”

Nanami winced at the pain in your voice, hurrying after you as you stormed towards the bedroom. “Love, please stop.” Nothing was said as you threw the covers back on your bed. “Please let me talk to you. Let's have an actual conversation like adults instead of children!” Frustration and anger were evident in his voice, emotions that only seemed to fan the flames of your anger.

“Are you insinuating that I—” you pointed to yourself, “am acting like a child?”

“When you refuse to speak to me, yes.” you laugh. It's cold and void of joy as you place your hands on your hips.

“You wanna talk?! Fine, let’s fuckin’ talk!” You toss the throw pillows to the ground with an anger that could fuel a bonfire. “I cannot believe you’re leaving me again!”

Nanami’s honey-brown eyes followed each pillow that slammed into the ground with a force that made him cringe. “Who said I was leaving you?” He cocked a brow in your direction as you crawled into bed, fluffing your pillows.

“You said ‘you’ were leaving for Malaysia, that ‘you’ we’re going to build ‘your’ house on the beach. So excuse me, you made it very clear that you are leaving.”

“I am—” You open your mouth to tell him you were right that you knew that already, but he held a hand up in front of him, ceasing your interjection. “But I want you to come with me.”

“Oh, please don’t treat me like I’m some item you forgot to pack! You told me it was your house, books, everything!”

Without so much as a word, your boyfriend stalked over to the bed, reaching into the suit jacket. You watched with rage-filled eyes as he handed you an envelope. Nanami didn’t say where you snatched the envelope out of his hands. Opening it up, you found two one-way tickets to Malaysia. One had your boyfriend‘s name on it, while the other had yours.

You found yourself staring at the tickets as if you stared long enough; you would somehow get the answers to the questions running through your head. It isn’t until the bed dips under Nanami’s weight that you finally look up at him. His eyes held no malice or anger; they drifted from the envelope before slowly meeting your confused gaze.

“I could have started the conversation out better. But you ran off before I could finish.” He took your hand in his, thumb gently stroking the side of your thumb. “Yes, I bought a property out in Malaysia. I plan on building a house on the beach, filling it with all the books I haven’t read.” He squeezed your hand. “But that house will never be a home without you in it. I want you to come with me; I promise I will take such good care of you.”

“Y-You want me to come with you?”

“Of course I do; I left you once, and that almost ruined us completely. Do you honestly think I would ever put us at risk like that again?” Big tears welled over your eyes, streaming down your cheeks. “I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you; please come with me.”

Nanami’s thumb gently brushed your tears away. His smile was gentle and warm, and you hiccuped, nodding your head in agreement. “Y-Yes, Kento, I would love to go with you!” He grinned, excitement in every part of his features, as he pulled you and kissed you deeply.

It was the kind of kiss that lasted a lifetime, conveying how sorry you were for the misunderstanding. A kiss that had started very soft and sweet before it turned into something more desperate and hungry. A kiss that had you shoving your boyfriend back against the bed.

“What are you doing?” Nanami asked with curious eyes as you unbuckled his belt.

“Shh, relax.”

Nanami had been confused at first, but all his questions were answered several minutes later as you bobbed up and down his thick girthy cock. His hand fisted your hair as he watched as tears pricked your eyes as you struggled to take more of him into your mouth. Each time you went down, he felt his tip hit the back of your throat, which in turn made you gag, coating his cock in more of a slick combination of your saliva and his pre-cum.

You were so beautiful, stunning, sucking his cock down eagerly. You gag, eyes flooding with tears as he looks down at you, grunting as his eyes shut. His hand gently strokes your hair, collecting it in a makeshift ponytail. You hummed happily, looking into his narrow eyes before he shoved you down until your nose brushed over his trimmed pubes.

“Look at my lover~ such a good girl making me feel good.” He shivers as you moan around him. “Fuck darling, yes~ just like that~ swallow my cock like a good girl.” He sighs out, his hips gently bucking up into your mouth. “Soo good~ all because I’m taking her to Malaysia where she won’t have to worry about working again.” There was something in his words that had you shuddering as you dipped your hand between your legs, rubbing your clit through your shorts. “Ooh? Do you like the idea of me taking care of you? Spoiling you rotten for all time?” The only response Nanami gets in return from you is the way you eagerly swirl your tongue around his cock. “Ahh, atta girl~ using her tongue to tell me.”

You planned to show him how much you appreciated him in many more ways. For now, this would do. Nanami held a firm grip on your hair as you bobbed faster, your hands reaching down, cupping his balls, squeezing them tight. Your sweet, considerate moans had him groaning into his hand, head falling back as you deep throat him. Making sure he knew how much you loved him, how much you appreciated him spoiling you and making sure neither of you had to deal with the mundane lives of the working force.

“Haaah yes~ fuck suck it~”

His dirty words have you rubbing yourself harder as you do as he commands. “mhmm!”

“That’s it~ good girl fuck are you gonna swallow it? Swallow all of my seed down your throat?”

You take more of him down your throat than you do. “Nngh!” Nanami chuckles, wrapping his hand around your hair as if it were his tie, forcing you down before yanking you back up and pushing you down again.

“Good girl, be sure to swallow every drop, and I’ll reward you.”

He’s thrusting his cock in and out of your mouth face fucking you as hard as he possibly can. You do your best to relax your throat, but drool seeps out the corners of your mouth, running down your chin. As Nanami focuses his attention on the tears that prick your eyes, you struggle to take him down further. It’s the struggling, effort, and the way you’re gagging and moaning around his thick, hard cock that in him tumbling over the edge of sweet release.

“Nngh fuck~! Fuuuck yes, swallow, swallow every last drop of it, and don’t let it spill out.” Your boyfriend growls as he continues, holding your head in place as he continues fucking into your mouth. “Yes~! Yes fuck!”

His cum is thick and hot, slowly sliding down your throat as you stare up at him. Admiring the flush that dances over his cheeks up to the tip of his ears. His face is scrunched up with pleasure as the waves of pleasure roll through him, leaving you wet and ready. Your clit twitched under your finger pads as Nanami pulled you off of his cock. You waited for him to lift you by your hair, bringing you close to his face. What you hadn’t been anticipating was for him to shove you down against the floor while he did his tie, letting it hang loosely around his neck.

“K-Kento—ooh!” You yelp as he forces your legs apart with both his hands, spreading them wide for him. “Whoa! Holy shit!”

“I’m going to make up for upsetting you.” He whispered, grabbing your shorts, yanking them down your legs, and throwing them behind him. “By making you squirt on my tongue.”

As Nanami trailed kisses up your thighs, you shuddered against the cool wooden floor, imagining if this was the same way he’d spoiled you when you were in Malaysia; instead of being on the floor, he would be on the sand at the beach. Maybe some fights and misunderstandings were worth having. You screamed out as Nanami took your clit into his mouth, sucking on it gently. Fuck, some fights were totally worth having!!

Geto Suguru:

“Suguru—” you whisper as your boyfriend grabs his bags, not stopping to look over his shoulder at you. “Do you have to take this mission?”

The dark-haired man taps his thumb against the center of his forehead. “Yes, everyone else is on their missions. I have to do this.” He slips on his shoes, and you can’t help but feel another part of him slip away with the action.

It has been a year since the Plasma Star Vessel, Amanai Riko, was killed and a year that your boyfriend has been suffering. He wouldn’t admit it, but you could see how he changed. He had lost weight, dark circles permanently resided under his eyes, and he had grown distant from you and your friends. Everyone had been worried, asking if he was okay, but he blamed it on the heat in the missions he was constantly sent on.

But you knew he wasn’t. He hadn’t been okay since Riko died. If he would talk to you and stop pushing you away, you might be able to help him.

“I could go with you.” You suggested, slipping on your sandals and following him out the door of the dorms. “My curse technique could be helpful.”

“It can, but this is a simple mission out in the countryside. You know the curses out there are weaker than those in the city. I’ll be back in no time, I promise.”

You want to scream and shout at him to beg him to talk to you. “I could help—”

“I just said it’s a quick miss—”

“I’m not talking about the mission, Suguru.” he stops, looking back at you from over his shoulder. “I can help you with whatever you’re going through. If you stop and talk to me, I’ll listen to you vent, scream, and curse the world. But I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s going on, Sugu.”

Cicadas buzz in the distance as your boyfriend stares at you with no words leaving his mouth. At this point, you’re fuming with anxiety, frustration, and anger over the silent treatment and him pushing you away. How would you help your boyfriend if you refused to talk to you? He didn’t want to talk to you or anyone else. If he didn't talk about it soon, the pain he had been bottling down for the last year was going to burst sooner or later.

You had hoped that your words might act as a voice of reason and that maybe speaking the truth would finally break him out of the stupor he found himself in. Your hopes didn’t have a chance to kindle, however, because all he did was sigh, turning his back on you with a shake of his head. That casual brushing off made your worry melt into rage. You stormed down the stairs, rushing after him to stand in his way, arm stretched out in front of you, preventing him from moving further.

“Talk to me!”

“I don’t want to!”

“Why the fuck not?!”

“Because you weren’t there! You don’t know what we went through. You wouldn't understand; you're just some girl I date. You have no clue how hard it was being one of the strongest.”

His words hurt, knocking you back a step. “What—?” Suguru shoved past you, storming down the steps. “What the fuck is your problem?!” Screamed, tears rolling down your cheeks. “I’m not just some girl! I'm your girlfriend! I am not someone you can talk to like that you can’t—”

“I don’t want to talk to you!” darkness flooded his eyes as he snapped his attention towards you. “Do you fucking understand me?” You were too stunned to speak. “Fucking drop it before I drop you.”

“Maybe I should be the one to break up with you then. If you don’t wanna talk to me, then I don’t see a reason for us continuing this relationship.”

Blurred your eyes as you looked over your shoulder, watching your boyfriend freeze his back and turn to you for a second. Instead of turning around to talk to you, he kept heading down the steps towards the car waiting for him. That was all the answer you needed from him. When he returns from his mission, you will give him all his stuff back since your relationship is over.

You had so much planned on what you wanted to say to him when you handed him all his shit when he got back to the school. You refused to keep fighting for a relationship that was as good as dead. Suguru needed to work through his issues, and maybe once he was feeling more like himself, you might consider talking to him, let alone working.

Those words and thoughts were titanium. Your resolve was set in stone, and you wouldn’t let him convince you that he was fine otherwise. He needed to heal to talk to someone. It broke your heart, but you weren’t the person he needed.

Saying all that, keeping true to your word was much easier said than done.

The resolve you claimed was stronger than titanium snapped like a twig when a call at two in the morning had you jumping out of bed. Suguru’s name flashed on your screen, and you forgot about the fight and the drama, answering your cell as fast as your hands would allow.

“Suguru?” You yelled, jumping to your feet. “Are you okay?”

The other line was silent before your boyfriend sighed. “I wanna talk.” You were slipping your shoes, nodding your head as he could see. “But I’m going to send you an address. Meet me there. Just don’t tell anyone where you’re going.” The fact he didn’t want anyone else coming with you didn’t bother you.

You stepped inside the hotel room Sugurh had messaged you about, and as you did, the scent of blood and smoke flooded your senses, making you question his reason for you coming alone. Glancing around the dark room, you found him crouching beside a bed where two little girls lay. They were bruised and bandaged up, holding each other’s hands as they peacefully slept. Your boyfriend watched them silently, his shirt splattered with the blood that still lingered on him before his eyes finally looked towards you.

“Suguru—what happened?”

“I’m going to remake the world.”

“Huh?” You step further inside the hotel room, approaching him cautiously. “What do you mean?”

“I’m going to kill the non-sorcerer and remake this world into a better one.”

You laughed softly, thinking that maybe he was just fucking with you. But the way his eyes narrowed, and his jaw clenched, you knew otherwise. Your boyfriend was serious, deadly serious. It didn’t make any sense. This was your boyfriend, who saw it as Jujutsu Sorcerer's duty to protect non-sorcerers. This new ideal had to be one of the reasons he had been so standoffish with everyone.

Instead of scolding or yelling at him, you sat down on the bed adjacent to the young girls, observing your bloodstained boyfriend. He had done the one thing you asked him to do, and that was for him to talk to you. You gently padded the spot on the bed next to him with a gentle smile.

Suguru opened up to you about everything. Riko’s death, the clapping from the religious group members he was constantly hearing, and the discussion he had with Tsukumo Yuki. For the first time in months, you felt like you were finally listening to your boyfriend talk. Part of you felt relieved, but something else began to take a route in your stomach as he told you about Nanako and Mimiko. He had slaughtered an entire village, an action he stood by and one he did not regret.

“I’ll be banned from Jujutsu Society and given a death sentence. But I don’t regret what I did.” Suguru’s eyes were glued to the floor, hands in his lap. “But you deserve to know what I did. What I plan on doing, I will remake this world, ridding it of non-sorcerer, those useless damn monkeys.”

He wasn’t sure how you would react. He expected you to shout, yell, and look at him in utter disgust. Yet what you did left him stunned as you reached across his lap and took his hand in yours. Suguru watched as your clean fingers intertwined with his, giving it a gentle squeeze, trying draw his attention towards you.

“We’ll remake the world.” His eyes went wide as he sat up back stiff as a board as the light returned to his eyes. “I’m coming with you.”

“What? Why would you willingly say yes? I killed people. You understand that. I killed a lot of people, and I’m going to have to kill more.”

“I know.”

“Then why?”

“Because you have a point. I see the world you want to create, and I want to help you.” You turned your body to him, wiping dried blood on his cheek. “Because I love you.”

The icy wall that had formed between you both melted. Suguru grabbed you by the face, kissing you deeply. He snarled and growled into your mouth, pulling you to your feet and dragging you into the bathroom. His lips only left yours to remove your clothes. Start the shower and shut the door. Once he got his hands, mouth, his entire body pressed against yours, you didn’t stand.

Suguru had you pinned into the shower floor with your hands pinned above your head as he wrapped your legs around his waist. His hips furiously bucked into yours as his lips smashed and moved against your own, his teeth nipping and sucking at your lips, pulling it back before releasing it, drawing blood. He needed you with a deep, crazed passion. His cocks slammed in and out of your pussy. The lack of prep on both your parts had your walls stinging with each hard thrust into you.

“Haah! Fuck! Oooh fuck!!”

“You’re mine~! You’re fucking mine, and we could’ve remake this fucking world. You could stay by my side. You’re never gonna fucking leave me.”

His teeth finally gave up their ass assault on your lips, moving to attack your neck instead. “Nngh! Fuck! Suguru!” He growled, his ass clenching with each deep thrust into you, the curve of his cock hitting your g-spot perfectly, guttural moans from you.

“Fuuck, that’s right. Say my name. I missed hearing you say my name.”

“Suguru.”

“Yes—fuck what does my princess need?”

“W-Wanna touch you! Please, Sugu!”

You didn’t even need to beg; Suguru let go of your wrists, allowing you to wrap your arms around him, digging your nails into his back, scratching down his toned muscles. Your boyfriend hissed at the sting pain, but he returned the favor, digging his finger into your hips, grabbing you roughly fucking into you with the same momentum, making sure not only you would have bruises on your skin, but your poor pussy would be bruised as well. He wasn’t just leaving his mark on the world but also his pretty princess.

His dark, wet, damp hair fell over his shoulder as he slammed into you with one hand, reaching up to cut the back of your head, cradling it gently as he slammed into you with all of his strength. He was making up for the months that you hadn’t been intimate. He was ensuring that you knew how excited he was to have you on his side and to have you see the world as he saw it.

He fucking loved you.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! I’m gonna cum; I’m gonna cum inside your pussy.” His into your ear, feeling the way you clamp down around him, his vulgar words. “Yeah, does my princess like that?”

“Yes!”

“The beg for it, beg me to cum in that tight little cunt.”

Your nails dug harder into his skin as you felt his cock twitching inside of you. “Please, please cum inside of me, Suguru! I need it! I want it so fucking bad!” His thrusting, the words he said, and the way he kept rubbing the head of his cock against your spot have your leg shaking body arching off the shower floor. “Oo-ooh! Fuck! I’m cumming! Cumming!!” You screamed as your walls convulsed around his cock, drawing out a deep moan from Suguru.

“Take it! Take it, baby~! Fuuuck~! Yes, cum on my cock~ cum for me, princess cum!”

The warmth of his cum filling you grinned as you happily peppered his neck with kisses. God, you missed this; you missed him. Once his thrust came to a stop, you hummed, kissing down his neck yourself. He smiled, chuckling weakly against your soft skin.

“Fuck,”

“Yeah, fuck.” You purred, holding him tight as his cock twitched inside of you. “I needed that so bad.”

As you both lay on the shower floor, Suguru held you tight. You rubbed your hands up and down his biceps, fingers trailing over his chest. As he watched your hands slowly move over his body, he realized how lucky he was to have you. You were throwing away your comfortable, stable life for him, leaving the world you knew behind to become a curse user who would help him obtain his goals. You were too good for him.

“God,” he whispered, pulling you up to his mouth, pressing his lips against yours in a heated kiss. “I can’t wait to rule the world with you.”

Gojo Satoru:

You loved your boyfriend. Gojo was an amazing partner and friend. But dating the strongest sorcerer of the modern age came with its downside. Satoru was consistently being the mission he was consistently sent on. You were supportive and always willing to wait for him. You stayed up late to talk to him when he was in different time zones. You made him his favorite meal when he got home.

You even understood when he would come home that he was tired and just wanted time to himself, like sleeping or snuggling you in the silence of his condo. You loved waiting at home for him, eager to help him relax and take some of the stress off of him whenever you could.

That was the usual routine until he started going out with his friends instead of you. He would often say he needed to go to a new cafe and get himself a sweet treat; it was like a reward to himself. Which you didn’t mind; in fact, you encouraged it! If Satoru wanted to go out, he could. You weren’t the type of girl to be all controlling or suspicious of his actions. At the end of the day, as long as he came home to you, you didn’t mind when he did. You were happy as long as he was getting the stress relief he needed.

And he needed that kind of stress relief with the higher-ups making him work as much as they were. It felt like every other weekend, he was getting sent on missions, which was strange because it was summertime. There shouldn’t have been as many curses since it was the slow season for you guys. You didn’t question it at all. Instead, you continued to offer to be there to support him if he needed you.

Until you caught him.

It was supposed to be a girl's night; you, Utahime, and Shoko went to the local bar to enjoy a few cocktails and vent about your day. When you walked in, you sat in your booth, sipping on your Sex on the Beach, while Shoko sighed, finishing her fifth shot of whiskey. Her eyes kept dying behind you before I glanced at the table, running her long-painted nail over the rim of the glass.

“So, where did they ship Satoru off to this time?” She asked, smiling as the waiter brought her another drink.

“Mhm,” you swallowed the drink in your mouth, “Ireland, something about some castle curse or something. I don’t know. It seems like there’s been a lot of activity, which is weird.”

“Ireland, huh?” Shoko sighed, taking another peak over your shoulder. “Bastard didn’t even bring back souvenir for me. You would think he would bring me back some Irish whiskey.”

“Well, he might; he should be back tomorrow night.” Your friends' reactions mirrored each other. It was a look that spoke volumes, one that had your stomach unsettled. “What? Why are you guys looking at each other like that?”

“Gojo is still in Ireland?”

“Yeah—?”

Shoko sucked down a breath rubbing at the back of her neck, before pulling out her cigarette box. “Well, don’t look now, but I think your boyfriend got back sooner than you thought.” She points behind you with her cigarette.

Turning your head, your eyes go wide, finding your boyfriend sitting in a booth with his closest friends. In Tokyo, and not in Ireland like he had told you an hour beforehand. You felt like the room was spinning, and it wasn’t because of the small amount of alcohol you had drank. No, it was because of the carefree look on his face as he smacked Geto on his back before downing his cola.

Your body moved before you could even think. Rushing forward, pushed past strangers, hurrying towards your boyfriend, who hadn’t even noticed you running towards him. His friends, however, did notice. Geto smiled as he waved at you, Nanami nodded his head in acknowledgment, and Haibara leaned his head back against the booth, turning his head just as you slammed your hands down on the table.

“Oh, hi! How are you doing tonight?” Haibara cheerfully greeted, sitting up straight, eyes sparkling. “I thought Gojo said you were out on a mission.”

Upon hearing his name brought into the conversation, your boyfriend turned his attention towards you before spurting out the cola he had been drinking, the liquid coming out his mouth, and he coughed harshly into his fist. You felt sick to your stomach, and your chest felt tight. Why would he lie about being home?

“Funny, he said the same thing about himself.”

“Sweetie, I uhm—“

“How was Ireland?” You questioned, tilting your head and crossing your arms over your chest.

Suguru cocked a pierced brow, his dark eyes darting towards his best friend, who looked like he was about ready to shit bricks. “Ireland? I thought you said that’s where she was at?” All eyes seem to focus on your white-haired boyfriend as the back of your throat burns with unshed tears.

“So I guess it’s at least good to know. I’m not the only one you’re lying to.” You rolled your eyes, storming out of the bar and snatching your purse from Shoko, who was watching. “Bye.”

“Sweetie! Honey, wait!”

“No! I have nothing to say to you right now that would be remotely good!” You yelled back at him, listening to his footsteps over the sticky bar floor. “So please leave me alone.”

“Baby!” His slender fingers wrap around your wrist, pulling you back towards him. “Listen! I—fuck, I’m sorry!”

“Sorry for what you did, or sorry you got caught in a lie? One that you apparently had told several different people.”

There was nothing he glanced aside from instead of staring at the floor. “I’ve just been overwhelmed with work and didn’t want to come home.” The tone in his voice is almost comical.

“Okay? When have I ever had an issue with you going out? You could’ve just told me the truth instead of lying.”

“I just felt like I’ve been neglecting your needs, but I feel like I’m not in a position to be there for you in the way you need.”

For a second, your boyfriend thinks you might stop to give him the time to listen to what he has to say. Instead, you yank your arm out of his grip, letting it limply fall to your side. Gojo can see the pain in your eyes. Pain that he wanted to avoid putting on you, but instead, he’s pretty sure he had caused more pain.

“So you lied about being on a work trip?” He says nothing. “Good to know you feel that way.”

You start heading back out to get an Uber, but Satoru is right behind you. “Baby please, I just, I feel so tired all the time. I just need to unwind.” You turn back around, shooting daggers up at him.

“Fucking unwind! Do whatever you want! I don’t give a fuck!”

“Then why are you so upset?”

“Because you fucking lied to me!” You screamed, causing him to wince through his teeth. “You called me today and told me you were in Ireland! When you could have told me, ‘Hey babe, I’m going out with the guys,’ instead, you fucking lied to me!”

Satoru frowned, not knowing what to say in a situation like this. A problem that he had created himself. One that could’ve easily been avoided if he had told you the truth. So, instead of saying anything, he just dropped his head down in shame.

You fought against the urge to somehow break through his infinity and slap the shit out of him. But since that was impossible, he watched as you wiped the welling tears from your eyes with a shaky sigh. With a swallow and a deep breath, you turned away from him, heading to the car that pulled up to the curb for you.

“W-Wait, where are you going?!”

“Home.”

Without so much is another word, you got in the car, and your boyfriend watched as it drove off down the street. He had messed up royally this time. So much so he wouldn’t be surprised if you were to break up with him at this point. Gojo had been so stressed, and he didn’t want you going above and beyond to take care of him when you were just as stressed as he was. he saw how you acted. You made it a point to cook his favorite meals to buying him his favorite sweets, when you had the same dark circles under your eyes from your hard work being a sorcerer.

You seemed to enjoy helping him out like that. Like it was a highlight of your life. So, instead of sitting down and talking to you like a normal person, he decided to go out with his friends. Giving yourself time to hang out with your friends, read a book or catch up on some well-deserved rest. He should’ve just talked to you about this but didn’t want to hurt your feelings.

But in trying to protect your feelings, he had hurt you even more. He couldn’t just idly stand and let this be the end of the conversation. He needed to talk to you and tell you how sorry he was in person.

When you got home, you could smell Gojo in the apartment. You weren’t expecting to smell his cologne, seeing that you had left him twenty minutes prior at the bar, but the asshole was able to teleport himself wherever he wanted. So much is saying a word. You threw your purse on the entryway table before storming towards the bedroom, where, low and behold, he was waiting for you.

He sat on the edge of the bed, cerulean eyes snapping towards the door as you walked in. “Sweetie.” He hesitantly spoke, hurrying after you as you headed into the bathroom. “Look, can we talk?”

“About what? Your next mission: what are you going to China or something? Or is it just another excuse for you to hang out with your friends?”

You were pissed. This would be one of those moments you held over his head for all time. “Look, I fucked up, big time.” You laughed, glancing at him in the mirror as you took your shirt off. “Okay, majorly fucked up, I should’ve talked to you, but I didn’t want to hurt your feelings.” The cold, dark stare you gave him in the mirror told him that your feelings were already hurt, and his reasoning was stupid to bring up at this point. “Will you please just listen for a second? Let me apologize properly.”

While the idea of fumigating in your anger was tempting, you knew if you didn’t give him the opportunity to, he wouldn’t get off your ass for the rest of the night. Shaking your head, you turned to face him as you leaned against the glass door of the walk-in shower. A certain relief settled inside Gojo’s chest as he stepped closer towards you.

“I’m sorry for lying. I should’ve been honest with you. But you always get so excited taking care of me when I get home that I didn’t wanna hurt your feelings.” The pinch of your brows softened as he spoke. “You spoil me fucking rotten. I honestly don’t deserve someone as good as you. I’m an egotistical, arrogant, pompous asshole, and you were too good for me. Even though I can see how tired you are, you always make an appointment to put me first.”

“Toru—”

“So I decided to take a step back and relieve some of my stress by hanging out with the guys. Lately, you’ve been so rundown. So I’ve told you I was going to Ireland so you could have a night to yourself. You have to worry about dinner or taking care of or making me feel good when you should be taking care of yourself as well as you take care of me. Fuck I should be taking care of you. But I’m just so fucking tired. I don’t have the energy to do that, and unfortunately, I’ve neglected you and your needs.”

“No—Toru, I see where you’re coming from, and it’s alright.”

“No, it’s not alright. Nothing about this is alright. I should’ve talked to you instead of lying to you, and I fucked up.” He hesitantly reached out, grabbing your hand and squeezing it gently. “I’m sorry I lied. I should’ve told you the truth.”

You were still angry over him lying to you. he could’ve been more of an adult and told you what he felt. But simultaneously, you could see where he was coming from. You had been putting a lot of effort into taking care of him and thus neglecting your own needs. He was right; you were as tired as he was. Not only did you have your own missions to go on, but on top of taking care of the condo and trying to make him feel comfortable, you hadn’t put time away for yourself. In his reasoning, he was trying to take care of you like you had taken care of him.

You allowed him to take your hand, squeezing his fingers back. “I swear to God if you lie to me like this ever again, and I catch you at the bar with your friends when you’re supposed to be in Ireland, I will kick your ass all the way there myself, Gojo Satoru.” he wins at the use of his full name, but your boyfriend pulls your hand tugging you into his chest.

“Noted, I promise I won’t ever do that shit again. I’m really sorry, baby.”

“It’s fine. We both got overwhelmed and instead of communicating, we just ignored it. Next time, I think we can do better as a couple. That way, this sort of shit doesn’t happen again.”

Gojo nods before he presses his chin against the top of your head, wrapping his long, lanky arms around you. “Right, I can do that.” You into his chest, sighing happily. “Is it too late to start communicating our feelings now?” You giggle, you’re almost bare chest rumbling against him.

“Depends on what exactly you want to talk about.”

Gojo pulls his chin off your head before grabbing your face in his hand. He lifts your head, forcing you to look at his beautiful, stunning eyes. “I don’t really wanna talk. I want to feel. I want to make you feel good. If you’re not too angry with me.” You slowly run your hands up his chest, smiling lovingly at him.

“I can’t say no to you.”

One steamy make-out session later ended with you both pressing each other against the walls in the bathroom; Gojo had you pressed against a wall, wrapping you up in his arms and holding you in his chest. "I missed you so much, sweetheart. So fucking much." The hot, steamy water from the running shower made the bathroom hot. He kissed you gently.

“I missed you too, Toru.” You whispered against his lips with a giggle as you brushed some of his hair out of his eyes.

His hand moved up to cup your cheek, his thumb gently rubbing your soft skin. "Can I kiss you again?" Instead of answering his question, you close the distance between your lips, kissing him deeply, wrapping your arms around his neck, and pulling him closer. Satoru grunted, leaning forward and slamming his hands against the glass door to the shower. “Fuuck missed you, baby.” He slowly pressed his lips to yours, holding his breath momentarily as he just kissed you like there was no tomorrow.

“Mhmm Satoru~”

He pulled away after a moment, his hands still holding your face. "God— Fuck, I missed hearing you sent my name like that." He held you tight, pressing your head to his chest as he slowly dried his fingers down your back.

“I’ve missed saying it,” you pressed gentle kisses up his chest, flicking your tongue over his nipple. “But I missed moaning it more.”

"Oh, you have?" He felt his heart and cock flutter at that, smiling softly.

“Ooh yeah, I’ve missed your cock.”

Gojo cocked an eyebrow with a smirk. "Well, I guess we have something. We have to do something about that then?~" He pulled you tighter against his body, his hardening cock rubbing against your bare hip. "I missed that amazing pussy, too~."

You whined, looking up at him. "I want you now, Toru." You whispered as you wrapped your hand around his cock, gently stroking him with a twisting motion.

“Oooh fuck baby.” His eyes slowly shut, his cock immediately completely hard. "Yeah does my sweet little girl need her Daddy’s cock?" He groaned softly, still holding you close against his bare ivory skin.

“Yeah~ I need it fuckin’ bad.”

Satoru bit his lip, his cock twitching in your hand. "Fucking okay, sweetie, I’ll give it to you.” He groaned, lifting you, pressing you against the glass wall of the shower. "God, I can't fucking resist you."

"Ah~!" You gasped out, your eyes glossy with need. "Fuck, please." You’d had sex against walls before, but this was needier, and fuck, it made you wet. "Fuck me, Toru~ fuck me until I squirt on your fat cock."

Just hearing you say those things made him shiver, leaning into you, kissing you deeply. "Of course, sweets~" He groaned as he held his hand up to you. “Spit.” You followed his instructions, spitting into his hand. He moaned as he rubbed it on his cock in place of lube. Once his cock was slick, he held you up by your waist and slowly lowered her down onto his aching length.

"Fuck!" You cried out, your eyes rolling back. "Oh god, y-you're so fucking big." Your whimpers grew louder as he stretched you out with his thick cock. "Fuck me, Toru!"

“Ahh fuck—“ Satoru let out a small growl, his left arm holding your waist and his right hand moving up to toy with your clit. "That’s right, sweetie, moan for me. Let’s get another fucking noise complaint from our neighbors ~" He pistoned his hips He pistoned his hips into you, thrusting fast and hard, chasing his already-building orgasm.

He glanced up, watching your eyes roll back, your hands gripping his shoulders, digging your nails into his skin. Loud sounds escaped your mouth as you looked into his eyes, dilated with pure animalistic need. He leaned in, kissing you deeply, swallowing your moans he fucked into you.

"Fuck, you're so damn pretty, Sweetheart~" He groaned, wet slapping sounds reverberating off the walls with every thrust. " O-Oh god, I'm—not going to last long. I've been so pent up!”

You weren’t in much of a better position than him feeling him, slamming into his curved cock, hitting every special spot inside of you. At the same time, his right hand played with your clit and had you on the edge so ridiculously fast you’re pretty sure he was about to world record. Satoru watched as your eyebrows knitted together as you stared into his eyes. There was a desperation in your beautiful eyes as you cried out his name, telling him you were close.

“G-Gonna cum Toru~! Gonna cum!”

At least you were able to form coherent words. Feeling your walls flutter and hearing the sweet sound that left your lips made Satoru’s hips stutter, and he moved, slamming his lips to yours as he gripped your hips, shoving you down all the way on his cock as he groaned, releasing his cum into you. Feeling his warm seed fill you sent you right over the edge with him, making you tilt your head back as sweet moans of his name left your lips.

“Missed you.” That was the only thing your boyfriend said before pressing a kiss to your lips again. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Toru.”

“I’ll never lie to you again.”

“Thank you—Ah!” You squealed as he opened the shower door, stepping inside with you. “Toru!”

“So when I tell you we’re going eight rounds tonight, you better fuckin’ believe it’s happening.” Gojo would show you just how sorry he was for hurting you. Even if that meant you were hurting from all the sex you were about to have the next day.

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks @reap3erslov3 @wil10wthetree

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girlkisser13 · 3 months ago

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dating yelena belova would include

�� she goes to natasha for advice ALL THE TIME.

• the two of you were friends first (friends to lovers supremacy).

• making her blush when you compliment her vest.

• a very important part of yelena’s life was fake, so she would constantly need reassurances that what you both have is real and not one-sided.

• she's VERY protective of you.

• if anything slightly threatening or dangerous happens to you she will go feral. she cares a lot about you.

• expect your dates to be far from ordinary. whether it’s a spontaneous trip to a new city, exploring hidden places, or engaging in thrilling activities, life with yelena would be anything but boring.

• yelena has a history of complex relationships and a strong desire for genuine connections. she’d seek a relationship built on trust and understanding, valuing deep emotional bonds and authenticity.

• physical contact with her develops gradually, over time.

• she didn’t have a lot of physical affection growing up so that’s new as well.

• the first time you grabbed her hand to hold, she yanked it away like it had burned her, so you started by merely interlocking your pinkie with hers.

• that progressed to holding hands, which progressed to interlacing all your fingers.

• once she gets used to it, she can't get enough.

• she always has to be touching you in someway.

• yelena is straightforward and doesn’t beat around the bush. communication in the relationship would likely be direct and honest, with both of you laying your cards on the table.

• PETNAMES IN RUSSIAN >>>

• while her life is filled with action and danger, yelena would also appreciate moments of normalcy and quiet. finding a balance between her high-energy lifestyle and relaxing downtime would be important.

• she's the little spoon, but she likes to tell people that she's the big spoon.

• when you first started dating, yelena would just look at you with this forlorn, confused expression on her face when you’d talk about your feelings.

• over time, she began sharing her feelings with her, and you’d laugh together when she’d try to explain a feeling, not knowing what it was called.

• yelena enjoys doing anything as long as it’s with you.

• her favorite thing to do with you is taking fanny for a walk together. on your free days, instead of staying at home, the two of you head out for a hike with fanny and have a little picnic date. <33

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sselenophiliia · 6 months ago

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Headcannons for the creeps x a super extroverted and hyperactive reader??? Please and thank you :3

CREEPS X HYPER! READER <33

TW - serial killers (duh) , mention of supernatural activity and gore & stuffs

TOBIAS ROGERS

• He’s naturally pessimistic, and has never cared for the rambunctious type. So at first, he’d find you very annoying and childish.

• Due to his devotion to the Slenderman, he has little to no control over his emotions and doesn’t have much of a personal life. He comes to find your extroverted personality somewhat..refreshing after spending so much of his time within the gloomy (and gorey) confines of the forest.

• Your time spent together may be short, but he grows to enjoy your company, and spends all of his personal time with you. He enjoys listening to you speak and silently admires how outgoing you can be. His distaste quickly becomes less apparent, and is replaced with a sense of familiarity. This would probably take an extremely long time though.

EYELESS JACK

• He has very poor social skills, and extremely prominent trust issues. He doesn’t trust anyone, especially those who are outwardly trying to befriend him.

• This doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to meet someone, possibly fall in love, but it does make it very very hard for him. Like toby, once there is a bond built he becomes quite fond of your outgoing personality.

• He lacks basic communication skills due to a sheltered upbringing and his adult life being cut short, to put it simply. A lot of experiences with you will be firsts for him in social, communication aspects. He greatly enjoys conversations with you and hearing you recount past wild escapades once he’s comfortable enough to let his guard down. Although, like toby this will take years.

JEFF THE KILLER

• To put it simply, he hates it at first. He sees it as a challenge. Do you think you’re better than him?! He hates anybody whose better than him at anything, and he has horrible social skills. At first, you’ll catch him glaring, then he’ll try to start a fight with you for no apparent reason. Then he’ll try to make conversation even though his social skills are horrible, then be offended when you don’t want to speak to him.

• If at some point you forgive him for being a nuisance, you will have to calm him down a lot and essentially talk for him in many situations. He’s not as calm or mature as Jack or toby in this sense.

• Similarly to Jack, you’ll have the stronger communication skills in the relationship. He differs from Jack in the way that he won’t let you.

LAUGHING JACK

• He’s extremely extroverted as well, so you’ll essentially be bouncing off of eachother and annoying everybody.

• He’s very happy that you’re equally as hyper at him, nobody else is. Mischief is on the horizon…

• He’s basically the only one whose normal about anything. Despite being a murderous clown. Does that say a lot?

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thousand-winters · 4 months ago

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I feel like people sometimes underestimate what a hard position Darius was in after bonding with Hunter.

Because here's the thing: It's not that easy to help someone who's being abused when they don't understand they're being abused. Especially when it comes to a case like Hunter's, in which not only was the person abusing him his family and legal guardian, but also the only person he was somewhat close to, since he was effectively isolated.

This isn't even speculation, it's clear in Hollow Mind. There's a degree of denial that comes with someone who hasn't been able to digest the fact they're being hurt because not thinking about it has been a survival mechanism for them. Having someone trying to change that perception of the world can make you lash out and snap, anything to preserve the carefully balanced status quo there. Anything to keep the one thing that has worked for survival.

Darius' options at this point were straight up kidnapping Hunter and lose all of his trust because Hunter would then think even more that he truly couldn't trust anybody but Belos, or try his best to become someone Hunter could trust, so when the time came, Hunter would know he was a safe person who could get him out of there.

Darius couldn't say outright "hey, kid, you're being abused and that's fucked up, let me get you out of here". Not with the layers of denial and fear Hunter had built because of Belos. The only thing that would have earned him would have been Hunter recoiling and pushing him away. Darius would have pushed him away even further into Belos' clutches if he had done that.

Of course, it feels terrible because we're not talking about, say, providing a safe space for a friend until they are able to get out of an abusive relationship, this is a child, but it's such a complicated situation. You can hardly call Child Protection Services on the Emperor of the Isles, provided they even have that in the first place.

Honestly I think Darius did the best he could have done and people who think he didn't do enough really do not give him the credit he deserves, because it's clear Hunter DID trust him, for him to be able to believe in him and let Darius reach out after running out of the coven, despite the intense fear and paranoia he had toward everybody from the EC.

Plus it's not only this single aspect that was on the line here. Darius had to be mindful not to accidentally push Hunter away and lose all the chances he had to get him out of that situation while at the same time being very aware he was being reckless by having the Emperor's nephew close to him when he was one of the main leaders of the rebellion.

He was risking so much here and he really didn't have to. He gave Hunter something to communicate with the world outside of the walls of the castle, he could have said "this is all I can do for him" and washed his hands off of him, continue his rebel work and just tell himself Hunter would be fine once they took down Belos.

But he didn't, he chose to be there, he chose to build trust, he chose to help as much as such a hard situation allowed.

He does not get enough credit for that.

#darius deamonne #hunter deamonne #the owl house #toh #dadrius #wovengold

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reidmarieprentiss · 2 months ago

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Too Damn Young: Part Two

Summary: You and Spencer have been separated for three years, is that enough time to move on? For you, it would appear it is. Spencer doesn't know what to do when he gets your save-the-date in the mail.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: fluff, hurt/comfort, angst

Warnings/Includes: talks of divorce, keeping secrets from partner, alcohol consumption, impulsive decisions, breakups, argument with intoxicated Spencer, happy ending

Word count: 14k

a/n: sorry this took so long i got a very specific case of writer's block for this story ://

main masterlist part one

Three years had passed since Spencer Reid had moved away from you, but despite the physical distance, the love and bond you shared had managed to survive. Though the romantic part of your relationship had ended, your friendship remained strong and unbreakable.

Spencer kept you updated on his work at the BAU, sharing stories from the field and the challenges he faced. When your mom got married, knowing how difficult that event was for you, Spencer took time off from work to attend the wedding with you. His support was unwavering, even when he couldn’t be there in person. You would visit Diana when Spencer couldn’t, helping out in ways that kept you connected not only to him but also to his family.

Spencer continued to speak with your father regularly, keeping that connection alive even as your lives had diverged in different directions. In all, the two of you remained close, and your friendship had evolved into something even more profound, built on shared experiences, trust, and the deep understanding that comes from truly knowing each other.

A rock was thrown into the friendship you shared with Spencer, however, when he received a save-the-date card in the mail, addressed to him. As soon as he saw your name on it, so many emotions swarmed through his body that it made him physically ill. He scanned the card, his hands trembling as he tried to process the words. You were getting married. Again.

Spencer hadn’t even known you were seeing anyone, and now you were marrying someone? The realization hit him like a punch to the gut. His stomach twisted, and before he could stop it, he wretched and threw up, the shock and emotions overwhelming him completely.

He knew, logically, that the two of you were long since over. He had tried to move on. He had seen people off and on, but never took anything too seriously, never fully allowed himself to fall. Because, in the back of his mind, Spencer had always assumed that the two of you were destined to find your way back to each other. He never let go of that hope, and now, seeing your save-the-date, that hope was shattered.

In a moment of sheer panic and desperation, Spencer dialed Derek’s number, his voice breaking as he begged, “Please, Derek… come over, I—I need you.” He was crying, the words tumbling out incoherently, leaving Derek no choice but to rush to his best friend’s side, not knowing what had caused such an outburst of emotion.

When Derek arrived, Spencer had managed to somewhat compose himself, though the distress was still written all over his face. He motioned for Derek to sit, and with shaky breaths, he spilled everything. From the day you and Spencer met in Tahoe, to the whirlwind of dating, to your marriage, and ultimately, the divorce. Spencer had kept this part of his life hidden from the team, only ever referring to you as a “friend from college,” never revealing the deep connection the two of you once shared.

Derek listened, taking it all in with wide eyes, surprised but trying to make sense of it. Spencer had never been one to open up about personal matters, let alone something this big.

Then, Spencer threw the save-the-date card onto the table in front of Derek, the final piece of the puzzle falling into place. Derek picked it up, his face softening with understanding. He could see why this had devastated Spencer, why the younger man had broken down.

“Man… I didn’t know,” Derek said quietly, his voice filled with empathy. “I didn’t know you were still holding onto that.”

Spencer rubbed his eyes, his whole body slumped in defeat. “I thought… I thought maybe one day… we’d find our way back to each other. But now… she’s marrying someone else.”

Derek shook his head, unsure of what advice to offer. How do you console someone who’s just realized the future they’d been holding onto no longer existed?

“I’m sorry, Reid,” Derek sighed, pulling Spencer into a tight hug, feeling the weight of his friend's emotions. He didn’t know what else to say. He could feel how deeply this was hurting Spencer, and it pained him to see his best friend like this. “What are you going to do?”

Spencer leaned into Derek’s embrace, his body still trembling slightly as he huffed out a breath. “I guess… I’m going to the wedding,” he said, his voice filled with resignation. “She’s my best friend. I can’t… not be there for her.”

Derek, trying to find a way to lift the mood, jolted Spencer a bit, grinning mischievously. “Excuse you? I thought your best friend was sitting in front of you right now.”

A small laugh escaped Spencer, a brief moment of light in the middle of his turmoil. “You're right,” he admitted, chuckling softly. “Thank you, Derek. Really.”

Derek smiled, glad to have gotten a laugh out of him, but he knew it would take more than that to pull Spencer out of his spiral. So, for the rest of the day, Derek stayed by his side, doing whatever Spencer wanted—whether it was playing chess, watching documentaries, or just sitting in silence. Anything to keep his mind off the fact that the love of his life was getting married to someone else.

And, perhaps worst of all, she hadn’t told him anything about it until the save-the-date arrived. That, Derek knew, was what was really eating at Spencer—the idea that he wasn’t as much a part of your life as he once thought.

—

Spencer hadn’t reached out since receiving your save-the-date, unable to find the right words. Instead, he threw himself into spending more time with his colleagues and friends, agreeing to every social outing they planned. He was trying to distract himself, to drown out the constant noise in his head about what your upcoming marriage meant for him.

Tonight, he found himself whiskey tasting with Rossi, Hotch, and Derek. As the evening wore on and the whiskey flowed freely, their conversations grew looser, more personal. Rossi and Hotch began comparing their divorce stories, laughing about their past pain and the fleeting joys of their marriages. Derek looked over at Spencer, knowing full well the turmoil going on beneath his quiet exterior, being the only one who knew about Spencer’s secret heartbreak.

Spencer seemed to be somewhere else entirely, lost in his own world, not really listening to the conversation. Derek wasn’t sure if that was good or bad, but he was silently relieved when Spencer excused himself to go to the bathroom. Maybe it was better if he didn’t hear the rest of this conversation.

But instead of heading to the bathroom, Spencer stepped outside, pulling out his phone and making a decision he would soon regret. His fingers fumbled as he dialed your number. The alcohol had loosened his inhibitions, and all the pent-up frustration and hurt were boiling over.

The worst part? You answered.

“Spencer? Hi!” Your voice was warm but slightly distracted. “I’m still at work, is everything okay?”

Of course. The time difference. He hadn’t even thought about that. “I’m fine, Y/N,” he hiccuped, clearly not fine at all. “Well, no, I’m not. Why didn’t you tell me you were seeing someone?”

You were silent on the other end for a moment, the weight of his question hanging in the air. Finally, you sighed deeply. “Spencer… can we not do this right now? I can call you tomorrow.”

“No!” Spencer's voice was louder than intended, his frustration rising. “We need to do this now. I deserve an explanation.”

You sighed again, and Spencer could hear you moving around, likely retreating to a quieter place in your office. “Okay. Fair enough. I started seeing Noa about two years ago. They’re amazing, Spence. I just… I didn’t know how to tell you.”

“So you thought sending me a save-the-date was better?” Spencer’s voice raised again, the whiskey fueling his anger. “That’s messed up, and you know it.”

“I know,” you said quietly. “I was scared. I’m sorry.”

Spencer’s brain was spinning, but one thought stood out. “Wait… you’ve only been together for two years?” His voice had grown darker, accusatory.

“Yeah. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, okay?” you said, your voice strained but still calm, trying to diffuse the situation.

“You’re just rushing into marriage again!” Spencer shot back, the words spilling out before he could stop them. His frustration, his heartbreak, everything he had buried for the last five years, it all came pouring out.

“What?” you asked, your voice coming out small and weak, despite the fact that you wished it had been strong, confident, maybe even cold. But it wasn’t. The hurt you felt made it tremble.

Spencer scoffed, his frustration bubbling over. “You’re just jumping into another relationship without thinking about the consequences.”

You blinked, shocked at the accusation. “How would you know what I’m doing? I haven’t seen you since my mom’s wedding… that was three years ago,” you shot back, your voice firmer now, though still tinged with hurt.

“Right, how could I forget?” Spencer’s voice grew louder, his emotions spiraling out of control. “You were flirting with every pair of long legs that walked by, in front of me!”

You were taken aback, your heart pounding in disbelief. “What? No, I did not! And besides, what would it matter if I did?” you spat out, the pain in your voice evident now. “You left me, Spencer.”

The words hung in the air, heavy and full of unresolved heartache.

“Is that how you remember it?” Spencer asked, his heart breaking even more, his voice softer now but filled with sorrow.

“That’s how it happened,” you said, a tear slipping down your cheek, because as much as you loved him, as much as he had been a huge part of your life, the wound of his departure was still raw.

“Well, I’m very sorry that’s how you see it,” Spencer said, his voice steadying now as the alcohol-induced haze began to lift, leaving behind the weight of reality.

You nodded, even though you knew Spencer couldn’t see you, and tried to keep your voice from breaking. “Mhm,” you managed, holding back the sob that was lodged in your throat.

“That’s it?” Spencer pressed, his frustration giving way to something closer to disbelief.

“Mhm,” you repeated, not trusting yourself to say much more without unraveling completely.

“You don’t have anything else you want to say to me?”

A quiet, almost broken, “Mm mm,” was all you could offer. The tears were too close now, and speaking felt impossible.

There was a long pause on Spencer’s end, the tension between you both palpable even through the phone. “Bye, Y/N,” he said finally, the weight of those two words heavier than you’d ever imagined. And with that, Spencer hung up.

He returned to his friends at the whiskey tasting, but his heart wasn’t in it anymore. He opted out of the rest of the drinks, choosing instead to just sit in their company, trying to find some comfort in the camaraderie, even though his mind was miles away, back with you, replaying the conversation in his head.

—

As you sat in your office, the weight of the conversation with Spencer bearing down on you, the flood of emotions finally broke free. Your body shook with barely concealed sobs, and as much as you tried to hold it together, it was too much. The truth was painfully clear—you knew why you couldn’t bring yourself to tell Spencer about Noa. How could you possibly tell the man you were still in love with that you were marrying someone else, someone who was there to fill the void he left behind?

It wasn’t that you didn’t love Noa. You did—deeply. They were everything you could ask for in a partner—amazing, generous, loving, and you were genuinely ecstatic to marry them. But that didn’t change the fact that Spencer was still there in your heart, occupying a space that no one else ever could.

A knock sounded at the door, breaking through your thoughts. “Y/N? Sweetie, can I come in?” Alexi’s voice came from the other side. Your assistant manager, your number two, and more importantly, your best friend.

You wiped at your tear-streaked cheeks, trying to pull yourself together. “Yeah.”

Alexi pushed open the door, taking one look at your broken figure and immediately coming over. “Oh baby, what happened?” they asked, their voice soft with concern.

You sighed, pushing yourself up to sit on the desk beside them. “Spencer called… he’s upset.”

Alexi didn’t need you to explain more. They knew everything—they had been there after Spencer had left, helping you pick up the pieces of your life. They wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close in a comforting embrace. “I told you he wouldn’t react well,” they said, never one to sugarcoat the truth.

You let out a tearful laugh, nodding. “You did. And I should’ve listened.”

Alexi rubbed your back, offering silent support before they asked, “Are you going to tell Noa?”

You shook your head immediately. “No. Noa doesn’t need to know.”

Alexi’s sigh was deep, full of the understanding but firm truth they always brought to your conversations. “Yes, they do, sweetie. Spencer is always going to be a part of you. Noa deserves to know all of the person they’re marrying.”

You swallowed hard, feeling the truth of their words but resisting it all the same. “Spencer is… he’s mine, you know?” Your voice cracked slightly. “He’s a part of my past, encapsulated like a snow globe just for me. I don’t want Noa to know all the details. What if they don’t want to marry me if they do?”

Alexi squeezed your shoulder gently, looking you directly in the eyes. “Y/N… keeping secrets isn’t a good way to start a marriage. If Noa decides they don’t want to marry you because of what happened, then that’s how it’s going to be. But they deserve to know the whole person they’re committing to.”

The weight of their words sank in, but it didn’t make it any easier. You knew they were right. But admitting the depth of what Spencer still meant to you, and risking ruining another relationship because of it, felt impossible. Spencer was yours—a part of you that no one else could touch. And you didn’t want to lose anyone else by dragging him into your present, when he was meant to stay in the past, locked away safely in your heart and mind.

So you went along with the wedding planning, trying to stay present, but the excitement you had once felt for this kind of event was dimmed. Your moms, both of them now, took charge, pulling you and Alexi along for dress shopping. You went through the motions, smiling when you were supposed to, but in the back of your mind, it felt like something was always missing. Maybe it was because you had done this before—planning a wedding, preparing for a future you thought was set in stone. That time, you were marrying your best friend, your soulmate. Nothing could have brought you down.

Now, though, it felt like everything was falling apart.

You found a dress you didn’t hate, but when you discovered it wasn’t made in your size, your heart sank. The tailoring bills would be through the roof. And there was no way you could ask your parents to help with another wedding, let alone explain that to Noa. So you settled for a different dress, something more practical, less special. It was a compromise, and one of many.

Then there were the flowers—your (second) favorite flowers, the ones you had dreamed of having at your wedding since you got engaged. But you couldn’t have them. As it turned out, Noa was allergic. How that had eluded you for two years, you’d never know, but it felt like another loss, another thing you had to give up.

The food? That was another issue entirely. Noa was vegan and gluten-free, which was fine—you supported them in that. But it meant you couldn’t have any of the dishes you wanted at your wedding, and the excitement over picking a menu disappeared entirely. It wasn’t about the food; it was about the mounting compromises that made you feel like you were losing more of yourself in the process.

Then, as if the universe wanted to add insult to injury, the live band you’d booked canceled last minute. They refunded half the deposit, but it wasn’t nearly enough to book a new band, and you were left scrambling for a backup.

It was all a mess. And through it all, the only RSVP that mattered to you—Spencer’s—still remained unanswered. Even Diana had agreed to come, and your father had offered to travel with her from Nevada. But Spencer’s name sat unmarked on the list, and the weight of his silence felt heavier than everything else combined.

—

It was late, and the bullpen was eerily quiet—long after everyone else had gone home for the night. The soft, dim glow of desk lamps was the only light illuminating the space, and Spencer sat hunched over at his desk, staring blankly at a stack of files, though his mind was miles away. He couldn’t concentrate, couldn’t shake the thoughts of you that had been circling his mind like an endless loop ever since that phone call. The way your voice had cracked, the words you hadn't said hanging heavy in the silence afterward.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair, the weight of it all pressing down on his chest like a vice. Spencer didn’t notice Penelope walking out of her office until she was standing right in front of him, her bright pink coat draped over one arm, a concerned look etched on her face.

“Hey, Boy Wonder,” she said softly, leaning against his desk. “What are you still doing here? It’s way past your bedtime.”

Spencer glanced up at her, forcing a small, weak smile that didn't reach his eyes. “Just... thinking, I guess,” he murmured, looking back down at the files in front of him, though he wasn’t really reading them.

Penelope’s eyes narrowed slightly. She knew Spencer well enough to recognize when something was wrong, and this didn’t look like his typical bouts of insomnia. “Uh-uh, that won’t fly,” she said, her tone firm but gentle. “What’s really going on, Reid?”

He hesitated, his fingers nervously tapping against the edge of his desk. He didn’t know where to begin, how to explain the mess of feelings tangled up inside him—the regret, the longing, the fear that he’d lost you for good. But Penelope had a way of pulling things out of him, and before he knew it, he was talking. Telling her everything.

“It’s... it’s about someone from my past,” Spencer admitted, staring down at his hands. He could feel the heat rising in his face, the weight of the secret that he’d kept for so long bearing down on him. “Her name is Y/N. We... we were close.”

Penelope’s eyes widened as she quickly pulled out the chair across from Spencer and sat down, leaning in closer. “Wait, wait, wait, slow down,” she said, a look of shock and curiosity flashing across her face. “Who is Y/N? And how do I not know about her? You’ve never mentioned her before, Spencer!”

Spencer ran a hand through his hair, fidgeting nervously. “That’s kind of the point. I never told anyone. Well... except Morgan, recently. But... it’s complicated, Penelope.”

“Complicated how?” Penelope’s voice was gentle, but there was an urgency to it—a desire to understand. “How... close were you two?”

Spencer hesitated, his fingers tapping anxiously against the edge of his desk. He knew he couldn’t keep everything bottled up any longer. “We were... really close. We met when we were both eighteen, and we... got married. And then divorced. And then stayed friends,” he said quickly, the words tumbling out all at once. “And I never told anyone because it felt like... like this part of my life that didn’t fit with everything else. Like a different person I used to be.”

Penelope’s jaw dropped, and for once, she was speechless. Her eyes darted around his face, as if trying to comprehend the enormity of what he’d just shared. “Spencer Reid, you were married?” she finally managed to say, her voice squeaking at the end. “And divorced? And you never... you never said anything?”

Spencer gave a small, helpless shrug. “Yeah. I know, I should’ve told you all a long time ago. But it’s... it’s a lot to explain, and I guess I just... buried it.”

Penelope blinked a few times, trying to process everything. “Okay, okay,” she said, holding up a hand to stop herself from spiraling. “So... Y/N. You were married to her. And now you’re... friends?”

Spencer nodded, feeling a mixture of relief and anxiety at finally sharing this part of his life. “Yeah, friends. We kept in touch over the years. But she’s... she’s getting married again. And I... I found out through a save-the-date in the mail.”

“Whoa, wait, wait,” Penelope cut in, holding up her hand. “She’s getting married? Like, married married? And she didn’t tell you?”

He nodded, the pain in his chest tightening at the memory. “Yeah. And I got upset, and I—I probably said some things I shouldn’t have. And now... I can’t stop thinking about her, and it’s driving me crazy.”

Penelope’s expression softened, her eyes filled with understanding. She reached across the desk, placing her hand over Spencer’s. “Spencer,” she said softly, “you know why you can’t stop thinking about her, right?”

Spencer sighed, biting his lip as he nodded. “Because I still love her,” he admitted, the words feeling both like a relief and a weight off his shoulders. “I never stopped. I thought I was fine with just being her friend, with us being apart, but...”

“But you’re not fine,” Penelope finished for him, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. “And you don’t have to be. She was your first love, and that kind of thing doesn’t just go away.”

“I know.” He closed his eyes, shaking his head as if trying to clear his thoughts. “But she’s engaged, and she seems happy. I can’t just... disrupt her life like that.”

Penelope let out a soft huff, her eyes full of determination. “Spencer Reid, I know you like to overthink things, but this is one of those times where you need to be honest. If you have feelings for her, if you think there’s a chance—any chance—that she feels the same way, then you owe it to yourself to tell her. Before it’s too late.”

Spencer looked up at her, a flicker of hope mixing with fear in his eyes. “But what if it is too late? What if... what if she doesn’t feel the same? What if I just make everything worse?”

Penelope’s smile was soft but firm, her voice steady as she spoke. “That’s a risk you’ll have to take, Reid. But it’s better to take that risk than to spend the rest of your life wondering what if. You deserve to be happy. And if she’s the person who makes you happy, then you need to fight for that.”

Spencer didn’t respond right away, the weight of her words settling over him as he considered them. He had spent so long running from his feelings, trying to bury them under the guise of friendship, trying to convince himself that he was okay with you moving on. But the truth was, he wasn’t okay. And maybe, just maybe, he needed to do something about it.

“Thanks, Penelope,” he said quietly, a small, genuine smile finally tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I... I think I needed to hear that.”

She grinned, standing up and patting his shoulder. “Anytime, genius. Now go home, get some rest, and think about what you’re going to say. You’ve got this.”

And with that, she walked away, leaving Spencer alone in the quiet bullpen, but with a sense of clarity he hadn’t felt in years. He knew what he needed to do. It was terrifying, it was messy, but it was right.

He needed to talk to you. To tell you how he felt. Before it really was too late.

—

The hours of the night ticked by slowly as Spencer lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling of his apartment. Every attempt to sleep had been thwarted by the constant thoughts of you—the weight of the conversation with Penelope, the memories of your time together, and the sharp, raw feeling that he was running out of time. He couldn’t shake it. Every breath felt heavier than the last, and the silence of his apartment only amplified the whirlwind of emotions crashing around in his head.

At some point, the moonlight gave way to the faintest hint of dawn, but still, Spencer didn’t sleep. He just lay there, feeling like a boy again, filled with that same sense of panic and yearning he hadn’t felt in years. But there, in the early morning light, it finally hit him—what he had to do.

He shot up in bed, heart pounding, the idea forming fully in his mind. He had to tell you. He couldn’t wait any longer; he couldn’t let the fear, or doubt, or whatever this was, stop him. He had to tell you how he felt, face-to-face. Whatever happened, whatever you said, at least then he could say he tried.

Before he knew what he was doing, he was on his feet, pacing the length of his room, grabbing his phone, his wallet, hastily packing a bag. He barely had time to think the plan through—there was no plan. There was only the need to see you, to make things right, or at least to make his feelings known. He booked a flight to California within minutes, his hands shaking as he entered his credit card details, the urgency pushing him forward with every click.

The airport was a blur of noise and motion. The world seemed to move around him while his focus remained narrowed to a single thought—you. Spencer sat in his seat on the plane, the hours of the flight feeling endless as his knee bounced restlessly, and his fingers drummed against the armrest. He had no idea what he would say to you, how he would find the words to make sense of everything. He only knew that he had to see you.

When the plane finally landed, the sun was bright and warm, the California heat a stark contrast to the cool air of Virginia. He didn’t even take a moment to collect himself; he just grabbed his bag and rushed through the terminal, out into the familiar streets he hadn’t seen in years. The world around him blurred with motion and sound, but none of it registered. His only thought was getting to you.

But as Spencer stepped outside of the airport, the rush of determination he felt on the plane quickly started to fizzle out. The realization hit him like a punch to the gut—he had no idea where you lived anymore. The apartment you had shared when you were married was long gone, and though he kept up with you through your phone calls and letters, he didn’t know if you and your fiancé had found a place of your own, if you were living together at all.

He stood on the sidewalk, the California sun beating down on him, making him feel both restless and lost. There was no time to panic, though; he had come all this way, and he couldn’t just stand there like a fool. He needed to find you. And fast.

The next best thing was to hail a cab and give the driver directions to the one place he knew you would eventually be—your bookstore. He paid the fare quickly and grabbed his bags, rushing inside the shop, his eyes darting around, scanning the familiar shelves, the worn floorboards, the comforting smell of old books.

A bell above the door chimed as he stepped inside, and a young employee behind the counter looked up, offering a polite smile. “Hi, welcome in,” they said, but their voice didn’t really register. Spencer was too caught up in the whirlwind of his thoughts, in the desperation that had brought him here.

“Is Y/N here?” he rushed out, his voice high with nerves, his hands clenched tightly around the strap of his bag.

The employee’s smile faltered slightly at the urgency in his voice, and they gave him a curious look, one that seemed to ask who the hell he was and why he seemed so frantic. “Um, no, she’s not here,” they said slowly. “She’s wedding planning today.”

Spencer’s heart sank further. Of course, you’d be busy with wedding planning—it was all you were doing these days. But the reality of it stung, like a reminder that he was too late, that you were already too far gone into your new life.

“Do you know where I could find her?” he asked, trying to keep the pleading tone out of his voice but failing. He was holding onto the hope that maybe, just maybe, he could track you down.

But the employee just shook their head, their face softening into a look of pity. “No, sorry. I really don’t. I think she’s meeting with a wedding planner or looking at venues, something like that.”

Spencer swallowed hard, feeling the walls of the bookstore closing in on him. He had been so sure of what he needed to do, so convinced that coming here would give him the answers he was looking for. But now, standing there, with no clue where to go next, he felt like a man adrift, a stranger in a place that was once so familiar.

“Okay,” he managed to choke out, trying to keep his voice steady. “Thank you.”

“Uh, yeah, sure,” the employee replied, their eyes still fixed on him like he was a puzzle they couldn’t quite figure out.

Spencer turned on his heel and walked out of the store, the bell chiming behind him as he left. He stood on the sidewalk, taking a deep breath to steady himself, to fight back the rising panic. He didn’t know where you were. He had no idea how to find you. And he had no plan.

But he wasn’t ready to give up. Not yet.

Spencer stood on the sidewalk, the desperation clawing at his chest like a living thing. His heart pounded, the reality of his situation finally starting to sink in. He had come all this way, but he didn’t know where to find you.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket, his fingers shaking as he quickly dialed Penelope. She picked up on the first ring, her voice chirping through the line. “Hey, genius, what’s up?”

“Penelope,” he said quickly, the urgency in his voice making it clear that this wasn’t a casual call. “I need your help. I need to know where Y/N lives. Can you find her address?”

“What? Wait, why? Spencer, what’s going on?” Penelope’s voice was full of confusion, and he could hear her clicking away on her keyboard in the background.

“There’s no time to explain. Please, just... please, Penelope, can you find it?” He knew he was asking a lot, putting her on the spot like this, but he didn’t know what else to do. He needed to see you.

“Okay, okay, hang on,” she said, the rapid clicking of her keyboard growing louder as she searched for your information. “Got it. She lives at XXXX S Higuera St.”

“Thank you,” Spencer said, the words rushing out of him like a breath he’d been holding in. “I owe you one.”

“Yeah, you do,” Penelope said, her voice somewhere between worried and annoyed. “Now go get her, cowboy.”

Spencer hung up and flagged down another cab, rattling off your address to the driver, who sped off in the direction of your house. The drive felt longer than it should have, every minute dragging on like an eternity, the silence in the car filled only with the beating of his heart and the hum of the engine. He watched the city rush by in a blur, every moment bringing him closer to you.

When they finally pulled up to the row of houses, Spencer fumbled with his wallet, throwing bills at the driver and mumbling a hurried “Keep the change,” before jumping out, his bag slung over his shoulder. He stood in front of your house, staring at the navy-blue door that stood between him and you. This was it. There was no going back now.

He lifted his hand and knocked, the sound echoing louder than he anticipated, every thud ringing in his ears. And then he waited, holding his breath as he heard footsteps approaching the door, his whole body tense and shaking with anticipation.

The door swung open, and there you were. You looked different than he’d remembered, yet exactly the same. Your eyes widened in shock, your phone still pressed to your ear.

“Uh, Alexi, I’m going to have to call you back,” you said into the phone, your voice thick with surprise. “Yeah, I’m fine.” There was a pause, and then you said softly, “Thank you, love you too. Bye.” You hung up, your eyes never leaving his, the weight of the moment hanging heavy between you.

“Spencer? What the fuck?” you finally said, and the sound of your voice hit him like a punch—familiar, angry, bewildered, and all of it wrapped in a painful confusion.

He took a breath, trying to steady himself, to find the words he’d rehearsed in his mind a hundred times, but they all fled as he stood there, face-to-face with you. He was speechless, overwhelmed by everything he felt, and everything he hadn’t let himself feel for so long.

“I—” he started, but his voice faltered. He took another breath, gathering his thoughts. “I know this is... a surprise. I know you’re mad. But I had to come, Y/N. I had to see you. I just... I need to talk to you.”

“You couldn’t call?” you asked, the mix of surprise and annoyance evident in your voice. You were clearly caught off guard by his sudden appearance, and you had every right to be. Spencer was out of breath, the tension between you almost unbearable as he searched for the right words.

“It’s too important,” he managed, his voice a blend of urgency and regret. He could feel the weight of the moment pressing down on him, the desperation to make you understand why he was here.

You stared at him for a moment longer, a storm of emotions flashing across your face—confusion, frustration, and something softer that he couldn't quite place. “Okay... come in.” Your voice was softer now, but guarded.

You stepped back, allowing him to walk into the foyer. The smell of your home washed over him—familiar, yet different from the last place you shared together. He followed as you led him into the living room, the warmth of the space feeling like an extension of you. The cozy seating, soft lighting, and small personal touches made it welcoming and lived-in.

“Just... stay here for a minute,” you said quietly before disappearing into another room, leaving Spencer standing awkwardly by the couch. He took in everything—the framed photos on the walls, the plants that seemed to thrive under your care, the comfortable arrangement of the furniture. It all felt so you, and so foreign to him at the same time.

After a few minutes, you returned, carrying two cups of tea in your hands. You set one down in front of him and sat down across from him, holding your own cup tightly, as if it was anchoring you. “Sorry,” you murmured, avoiding his gaze. “I don’t have your brand anymore.”

Spencer gave a small, understanding nod, a bittersweet smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “It’s okay,” he said softly. He cradled the cup between his hands, feeling the warmth seep through his fingers. He didn’t know how to start, how to break the silence that felt so loud between you. All he knew was that he needed to be here, to find the right words, to make sense of this tangled mess of feelings.

The only sound was the faint clinking of the spoon against the porcelain as you stirred your tea, neither of you looking at each other, both waiting for someone to break the silence.

Spencer glanced down at the steam rising from his cup, feeling the burn of your words more than the heat of the tea. He knew you were right—the last time you spoke, things were... ugly. Painful. He had been angry, and confused, and felt like he was losing you all over again.

“Why are you here, Spencer?” you sighed, your voice carrying the exhaustion of all the times you’d thought about him, about the complicated knot of your past. “Last time we talked, you seemed pretty pissed.”

He winced, gripping the cup tighter, feeling the porcelain edge bite into his skin. “I know,” he said quietly, finally daring to look up and meet your eyes. “I was... I was angry. And I shouldn’t have—I didn’t mean to take it out on you like that. I—” He paused, fumbling for the right words. “I shouldn’t have called you, not like that. It wasn’t fair.”

You stayed quiet, your eyes searching his face, waiting for the explanation you knew was coming. Spencer felt himself shrinking under the weight of your gaze, but he pressed on, knowing this was the only chance he had to make things right. “I came here because... because I need to talk to you. To see you.” He took a breath, the words coming out more rushed now, desperate. “And I know it’s selfish, but I couldn't stop thinking about you—about us. About everything we never said.”

The tension hung in the air, like a line pulled taut between you, ready to snap. He leaned forward, his voice pleading. “Please, just hear me out. Let me say what I came here to say.”

You felt your blood drain from your face, a cold, tingling numbness spreading through your body. This was it, the conversation you’d been dreading—and yet, somehow, you knew it was inevitable. Your heart hammered against your ribs, your skin prickling with anxiety as sweat began to bead on your upper lip. You swallowed hard, gripping your cup tightly, using it as your anchor, grounding yourself in the reality of this moment.

All you could do was nod. There were so many things you wanted to say, to shout, to demand from him—but the words lodged themselves in your throat, refusing to come out. So, you stayed silent, allowing Spencer to speak, knowing you needed to hear whatever he had traveled all this way to say.

He took a deep breath, his fingers shaking slightly as he set his cup down on the table. He couldn’t look at you directly; it was too much. Instead, his eyes darted around the room, focusing on anything but your face, as he tried to gather his thoughts.

“I know this is... a lot,” he began, his voice barely above a whisper. “And I know that I have no right to come here and just... drop all of this on you.” He ran a hand through his hair, a familiar nervous gesture that made your heart ache. “But I need to be honest, because I can’t keep living with these... feelings and regrets.”

He finally forced himself to look at you, his eyes searching yours, pleading silently for you to understand. “When I called you that night, I was angry. Not only at you, but at myself. Because I realized I’ve never let you go. I thought that maybe if I stayed away, if I just... buried everything, it would go away. But it hasn’t.”

You felt your breath catch in your throat, his words hitting you like a wave, pulling you under. Your heart pounded harder, hope, fear, and dread swirling in your chest.

Spencer’s voice shook as he continued, the vulnerability in his words cutting through the tension. “I came here to tell you that I still love you,” he said, his eyes burning into yours, his face a mask of raw emotion. “I don’t know what that means for us, or if it changes anything. I just... I needed you to know. Because I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t at least tell you the truth.”

The silence that followed was deafening, your mind racing as you absorbed his confession. This was the moment you had both avoided for so long, the moment where everything hung in the balance. You could feel your heart hammering against your ribs, each beat echoing in the room as you processed his words.

“Please,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “Just... tell me what you’re thinking. Say something. Anything.”

“What do you want me to say?” you choked out, your voice strained and small, the whirlwind of emotions clawing at your insides making it impossible to find the right words. Everything he was saying felt like it came from a different lifetime—a different you, a different him, a different version of the love you used to share.

“Anything, please,” Spencer begged, his eyes wide and frantic as he searched your face for a hint of what you were feeling. “What are you thinking?”

You swallowed, feeling the words spill out before you could stop them. “I’m getting married,” you said, the reality of it crashing down on you like a wave.

Spencer’s head dropped immediately, his shoulders slumping as if all the life had drained out of him. “I know,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, sounding as if saying the words broke something inside him. “I just thought maybe—”

“Maybe?” You couldn’t keep the sharpness from your voice, the anger and pain flooding through your system and finding their way into the space between you. “Maybe what?” You snapped, your emotions boiling over, unable to place what exactly you were feeling—love, anger, guilt, sadness, all at once, and none of them making sense. “You think you can just show up here and what? That I’d—”

But before you could finish, before either of you could continue spiraling down this road of raw and messy confessions, the jingle of keys being put into a lock pierced through the tense air, and both of your heads snapped toward the front door. Your blood ran cold as you realized what it meant.

Noa was home.

Your fiancé stepped inside, the warm light from the hallway spilling in behind them, painting the moment in a surreal glow. They were smiling, the familiar, comforting smile that you had come to know so well—one that could normally bring you peace. But now, the sight of them there, standing in the doorway while Spencer sat on your couch, made your heart plummet.

“Hey, babe,” Noa’s voice was light and warm as they shrugged off their jacket, the smile still on their face, though it faltered slightly when they saw Spencer sitting in the living room. “Who’s this?”

Your throat tightened, your mouth suddenly dry, and you felt your voice catch as you tried to find the words to explain, to introduce, to do anything that made sense.

Spencer, too, had gone completely still, his face pale, as if the reality of your life without him had hit all at once. This was the moment he hadn’t prepared for, the part of your life that he didn’t fit into, and it was staring him straight in the face.

“Hey, baby,” you said, the words catching in your throat, but forcing them out with a smile that you hoped looked normal, even as you felt Spencer flinch beside you. He knew that phrase all too well—the way you’d say it when you greeted him after a long day, the warmth and comfort that came with it. But now it was meant for someone else, and the reality of that cut through him like a knife.

Noa’s eyes darted between the two of you, clearly trying to make sense of the situation, their smile wavering. “This is Spencer,” you continued, trying to keep your voice steady, trying to make the introduction sound casual, like this wasn’t a huge, life-altering moment. “Um, he’s an old friend. He was in the neighborhood and... stopped by.”

You hated the way the lie sat on your tongue, the way it felt so heavy, so wrong. But what choice did you have? How were you supposed to explain who Spencer was to you—what he was to you? Especially now, when everything was in chaos and your heart felt like it was being split in two. So, you forced yourself to smile, to make it seem like there was nothing more to it than a surprise visit from someone you used to know.

Noa’s face softened a bit, their guard dropping as they took a step closer, holding out a hand to Spencer. “Oh, nice to meet you,” they said kindly, their eyes gentle and curious. “I’ve heard a lot about Y/N’s friends from back in the day, but I don’t think your name ever came up.”

Spencer managed a tight smile, shaking Noa’s hand as he fought to steady himself. “Yeah, it’s... nice to meet you too,” he said, his voice quieter than usual, the discomfort and awkwardness bleeding into every word. It was all so surreal, so painfully normal on the surface when everything underneath was chaos.

Noa looked between the two of you again, oblivious to the tension, and then smiled wider, turning their attention back to you. “I picked up takeout from that place you love on 5th. Figured we could have a low-key night in.”

“Yeah,” you nodded quickly, trying to swallow down the lump in your throat. “That sounds perfect. Really... perfect.”

Noa’s hand slipped around your waist, and you could feel Spencer's eyes burning into you, the unspoken words swirling around all of you like a storm. You knew you had to get him out of here—this wasn’t the time, and now was definitely not the place for whatever this was.

“Actually, um, Spencer was just leaving,” you said quickly, turning to him with pleading eyes. “Right, Spence?”

He looked at you, his expression unreadable, so many emotions passing through his eyes that it made you dizzy. But finally, he nodded, standing up slowly, the movement heavy with everything left unsaid. “Yeah... right. It was, um... nice seeing you, Y/N. Thanks for the tea.”

“Nonsense,” Noa cut in with a laugh, and you felt your stomach sink. “Join us,” they insisted, their voice warm and friendly as always. “I got enough for leftovers, but we’re fine with sharing, right, Y/N?” They gave you a light squeeze around your waist, completely unaware of the tension in the room, or the storm that had just been brewing moments before.

You felt your throat close up, the air around you becoming thin as panic gripped you. This was not supposed to happen—Spencer wasn’t supposed to stay, wasn’t supposed to be a part of this cozy, intimate meal with you and Noa. Your lives had already diverged, the gap too wide to bring together in a setting like this.

“Uh...” you started, your voice wavering, trying to find a way out of this without raising suspicion. But Noa’s hand was on your back, rubbing comforting circles, and they were looking at Spencer with nothing but open hospitality in their eyes.

“Come on, the more the merrier,” Noa urged, already turning to set their bags down on the counter, oblivious to the pleading look you gave Spencer.

Spencer’s face twisted with hesitation. He looked at you, then back at Noa, clearly torn between what he wanted and what he knew was best. “Really, I don’t want to intrude. I just... came to say hi.” His voice was small, and the vulnerability in it broke your heart all over again.

“No intrusion at all,” Noa said, already moving to unpack the takeout, arranging it on the table with a careless ease that made the whole situation seem almost normal. “I insist. Besides, you came all the way here. At least let us feed you before you head back.”

You felt a lump forming in your throat, the pressure of everything unsaid building up to a point you could barely contain. You could see the strain on Spencer’s face, the conflict in his eyes as he glanced between you and Noa. He didn’t want to be here, and you didn’t want him here either—not like this, not when it felt like every word spoken was laden with a secret.

But Noa’s smile was so open, so genuine, and your fiancé was already pulling plates out of the cabinet, laying them out for the three of you. You didn’t have it in you to make a scene, to start an argument you didn’t know how to finish.

“Spence... please, stay.” The words felt foreign as they left your mouth, and you hoped the slight tremor in your voice wasn’t noticeable. Noa didn't seem to pick up on it, too focused on setting the table and serving the food, but Spencer’s eyes caught yours, and you could see the depth of confusion and pain swimming behind them.

After a long moment, he gave a reluctant nod, sitting back down on the couch, his movements stiff and uneasy. “Okay... yeah, sure,” he said, forcing a polite smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I’ll stay.”

“Great!” Noa’s voice was bright and full of excitement as they motioned for you both to come to the table. “Let's eat.” They sat down, already starting to pass out food, while you and Spencer found seats across from each other.

The table felt small, impossibly so, as if there was no space for all the emotions crammed into the room. And as the three of you sat down to eat, your mind raced, wondering how you were supposed to navigate this impossible dinner, with the man you once loved—and maybe still loved—sitting across from you, and the person you were supposed to marry right by your side.

“So, Spencer,” Noa began as they served out portions of food onto each plate, completely oblivious to the tension coiled like a spring between you and Spencer. “How long have you and Y/N known each other?”

You nearly dropped your fork, your hand trembling as you pretended to focus on your plate. You couldn’t look at Spencer; you didn’t know what expression he’d have or what he might say. All you could do was silently will him to keep it vague, to stick to the basics and not let anything slip that could unravel everything.

Spencer cleared his throat, visibly uncomfortable as he shifted in his seat, poking at the food on his plate with his fork. “Uh… a while,” he said carefully, his voice steady but low. “We, um, met when I moved for college.”

“Yeah? That’s awesome!” Noa beamed, seemingly thrilled to learn more about your past. “What did you study, Spence?”

You winced at the nickname, one you’d used so many times before but now sounded wrong coming from someone else. You could see the way Spencer’s eyes flickered at the mention of it, but he smiled tightly, glancing over at you for the briefest second before looking back at Noa. “I, um, studied a few things. Math, engineering, some psychology…” He trailed off, clearly trying to keep it as bland as possible, but the tension in the air was palpable.

Noa continued, blissfully unaware of the underlying currents in the conversation. “Wow, that’s impressive! And you’re just in town for a visit? Or work?”

Spencer hesitated, the tip of his tongue darting out to wet his lips as he searched for a response that wouldn’t set off alarms. “Uh, just… passing through, actually. Thought I’d… catch up with Y/N while I was here,” he finally said, each word feeling carefully weighed, trying to sound nonchalant but unable to hide the slight tremor in his voice.

“That’s so nice,” Noa said warmly, looking between the two of you. “Y/N always talks about her old friends, but it’s great to finally meet one in person. I’m glad she keeps up with people from back then.”

You gave a tight, forced smile, your stomach churning as you felt like you were teetering on a knife’s edge. “Yeah, you know me, always staying in touch,” you said quickly, trying to steer the conversation away from Spencer, away from the past, away from everything that felt like a ticking time bomb ready to explode if prodded too much.

“So, how long are you staying?” Noa asked, turning their attention back to Spencer, still friendly and curious. You could feel your pulse pounding in your ears, hoping Spencer would take the hint and not make this any more complicated than it already was.

“Oh, not long,” he said, swallowing thickly. “Just a short trip.” He paused, glancing at you again, the weight of his gaze almost too much to bear. “I, um… didn’t plan on staying long.”

“That’s a shame,” Noa said, completely missing the tense undercurrent between you two. “It would’ve been nice to spend more time getting to know you. Seems like you two must have been pretty close back then.”

“Yeah… something like that,” Spencer said softly, his eyes drifting down to his plate, and you felt like you couldn’t breathe, every second of this conversation digging you deeper into a pit you weren’t sure how to get out of. You just prayed—silently, desperately—that Spencer would keep his words guarded and that Noa wouldn’t start connecting any dots you weren’t ready to explain.

“Y/N, sweetums, you’re being awfully quiet,” Noa teased with a playful nudge to your side, and you saw Spencer’s eyes flicker as he tried to mask a cringe at the pet name. You never liked that one; it felt odd to you, and Spencer could tell. But Noa had started calling you that long ago, and it was one of those things you’d grown used to.

You forced a smile, praying it looked genuine. “Just letting you and Spencer get to know each other,” you said, but your voice came out strained, barely holding up under the weight of the situation. You could feel your nerves fraying, as if every word that left your mouth was the wrong one.

Noa, still blissfully oblivious to the palpable tension, brightened with an idea. “Oh! Spencer, are you coming to the wedding?” they asked, and you felt your stomach twist in knots. You knew Spencer hadn’t RSVP’d, and you were terrified of how he would respond. You could see him falter for a moment, looking like a deer caught in headlights, and you quickly jumped in before things could get worse.

“Spencer works for the FBI,” you said, hoping your voice sounded casual, steady, anything other than what you were really feeling. “He said he’d come if he doesn’t have a case.” You looked at him meaningfully, praying he’d go along with it, hoping he wouldn’t take this opportunity to say something more revealing.

“Oh, wow!” Noa’s eyes lit up in admiration, turning to Spencer with genuine curiosity. “That’s incredible! We’ll save a spot for you just in case.”

“Uh… yeah, thanks,” Spencer mumbled, the awkwardness in his tone barely masked by the polite smile he forced onto his face.

Dinner went on like that—Noa doing most of the talking, you scrambling to keep things on track, and Spencer struggling to navigate every question without giving too much away. You couldn’t stop fidgeting, feeling like every minute was an hour as you tried to balance between keeping up appearances and making sure nothing slipped that would reveal the tangled web of your history.

Finally, after what felt like a lifetime, dinner ended. Noa, always the gracious host, brought out tea and ushered everyone to the living room. The three of you settled onto the couches, the warmth of the tea doing nothing to ease the tension in your body. You noticed how close Spencer was sitting to you, his knee almost touching yours, and how Noa, in contrast, seemed so relaxed, not sensing any of the chaos swirling beneath the surface.

“I should probably get going,” Spencer said suddenly, setting his cup down on the coffee table and pushing himself up from the couch. He looked between you and Noa, the tension clear on his face, the evening clearly wearing on him.

“Where are you staying?” Noa asked, genuinely curious. “Do you need a ride?” They sat up straighter, eager to be helpful, and you held your breath, knowing that Spencer likely didn’t have a plan—he rarely ever did.

Spencer hesitated, clearly trying to come up with a response. “Oh, um… I’m not sure. I, uh… hadn’t really thought that far.”

The silence stretched thin, your heart pounding as you prayed Noa wouldn’t say what you were terrified they would. But they did, without a second thought, without hesitation. “You can stay here!” they offered brightly, smiling at Spencer. “We have a guest room—it’s no trouble at all.”

Spencer froze, glancing over at you, his eyes wide with surprise. And you were sure yours mirrored the same panic. This was not part of the plan. You weren’t supposed to have him here, under the same roof. And yet, it was all happening too fast to stop it.

“Uh… that’s really generous, but I don’t want to intrude—” Spencer started, but Noa waved a hand dismissively.

“Please, it’s no trouble,” they insisted, their smile still warm and inviting. “You’re more than welcome to stay. Right, Y/N?” They looked to you for confirmation, and you could feel Spencer’s gaze on you, begging for an out.

“Yeah… of course,” you managed to choke out, your voice weak, betraying every emotion you were desperately trying to hide. “It’s, um, fine.”

And with that, Spencer was staying for the night, and you had no idea how you were going to get through it.

The three of you sat in the living room, forcing your way through some show on TV. But the tension in the air made it impossible to focus on anything other than the uneasy silence and the occasional awkward attempts at small talk. You laughed at all the wrong times, and every time your eyes met Spencer’s, you felt your stomach twist into knots. Noa, oblivious as ever, eventually declared they were ready to call it a night and headed to take their nightly shower.

You took the opportunity to help Spencer get settled in the guest room, your movements jerky and stiff, the weight of the day pressing down on you. He sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing the back of his neck as you pulled spare linens out of the closet. The silence hung heavy between you, every unspoken word echoing through the small room.

“I’m sorry,” Spencer whispered finally, his voice cracking slightly. “I didn’t plan any of this… obviously.”

“No shit,” you replied, your tone sharper than you intended, but it was impossible to hide the anger and frustration building up inside you. It felt like everything was spiraling out of control, and you didn’t know how to fix it.

Spencer hung his head, staring down at his hands. “I’ll leave tomorrow,” he said quietly, like he was admitting defeat.

“I know you will,” you murmured, the words hollow as you hugged yourself, arms crossed tightly around your torso as if that could hold everything together.

With nothing left to say, you left the room, and went to bed. But sleep eluded you, the feeling of Noa’s arms wrapped around you offering none of the comfort you desperately needed. Their touch felt so different from Spencer’s—where he’d been gentle, familiar, their embrace felt confining, and the sound of their breath on your neck was a steady reminder of all the ways it wasn’t him. It wasn’t supposed to be this way, and you felt the guilt flood through you for even comparing them.

Eventually, Noa must’ve felt you finally drift off, because when they woke in the early morning, they carefully slipped out of bed, planting a kiss on your forehead before heading down the hall to start their day. They hadn’t forgotten about Spencer staying over, but they didn’t expect to hear his voice so early in the morning.

“Penelope, what do I do?” Spencer’s voice was muffled through the guest room door, and Noa’s hand froze on the doorknob to the bathroom as they listened. “I told her I love her, and then before she could even tell me how she felt, her fiancé came home. It’s… it’s a mess.”

Noa’s blood ran cold, their stomach dropping as they tried to process the words. Their breath hitched, and they pressed their back against the wall, suddenly afraid to be seen. They knew they shouldn’t be listening, but they couldn’t stop now.

Penelope’s voice came through faintly from Spencer’s phone, but they couldn’t make out her response.

“No, they don’t know Y/N and I were married. She clearly hasn’t had the guts to tell them.” Spencer’s words came out raw, full of frustration and sadness.

The confession hit Noa like a freight train. Married? They felt the walls of the hallway close in on them, the realization that they had never known the full truth of your relationship with Spencer, the truth that you’d never shared. It made their mind spin, and they backed away from the door, desperate to escape the overwhelming emotions crashing over them.

Noa didn’t confront you then, didn’t barge into the guest room or demand an explanation. Instead, they made their way out of the house quietly, slipping out like a ghost. They moved through the motions of their morning like a zombie, their mind racing, heart aching with every step. They needed to be alone, to think, to understand what they had overheard. And they would talk to you, eventually—but only once Spencer was gone.

When you woke up to the sharp sound of your phone ringing, you felt like you were swimming up through murky water, the events of the day before crashing back to you all at once. You squinted at the screen—it was Alexi, their name flashing insistently. You didn’t need to answer to know they’d be demanding an explanation for yesterday’s abrupt hang-up.

“Hey,” you croaked out, voice heavy with sleep and emotion.

“What the hell happened?” Alexi’s voice was stern, a mix of worry and frustration. “You hang up on me, and then I don’t hear from you all night. Spill.”

You sighed, running a hand over your face as you leaned back into the pillows. “Spencer showed up at my door yesterday… unannounced. He’s… he stayed the night,” you admitted, your voice cracking.

Alexi’s reaction was immediate. “He what? Y/N, what is going on?”

You spilled everything—how Spencer had flown out to see you, how Noa had unknowingly invited him to stay, how you’d spent the whole night on edge, and how every touch, every word, every look seemed to tear at your carefully built life. Your voice wavered as you confessed how hard it had been, the emotions you’d buried for years bubbling back to the surface in a way you couldn’t control.

“Okay,” Alexi’s voice softened. “So… do you still love him?”

The question hung in the air like a challenge, and you felt your breath hitch as a tear slipped down your cheek. You’d spent so long avoiding the answer to that question, convincing yourself that everything had changed, that you’d moved on. But when you finally spoke, it felt like the words had been buried for years, clawing their way out.

“I think I do,” you whispered through the tears, your voice trembling. “It’s like… being with Noa was always so easy, you know? I never had to compare the two. But seeing them together… talking to Spencer again… I see how much love he still holds for me, and I know I’ll never be able to give Noa that. I can’t… I can’t love them the way I loved Spencer.”

Alexi was silent on the other end, and you could hear them carefully thinking over their response, searching for the right thing to say. But before they could get a word out, you gasped, cutting them off mid-thought.

“I gotta go,” you said in a rush, sitting up so quickly that the room spun around you.

“What? No—Y/N, you can’t just hang up again! What is going on—?”

“Spencer,” you breathed, staring wide-eyed at the doorway. He was standing there, framed in the early morning light, his expression one of utter disbelief, and you knew instantly that he’d heard every word you’d just said.

“Do you mean that?” he asked, stepping into the room with slow, careful movements like he was approaching a fragile creature. His voice was so quiet, so vulnerable, you felt like it was wrapping around your heart and squeezing. “You still love me?”

You couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe. All you could do was sit there, your phone slipping from your fingers as you met his gaze, your heart pounding like it would break free from your chest. And you knew, in that moment, there was no more hiding, no more pretending that everything was fine. It was just you and Spencer, standing on the precipice of everything you’d left unsaid.

“Yes,” you whispered, voice cracking as tears welled in your eyes.

Spencer felt his own tears begin to blur his vision, his breath catching in his throat. “I love you too,” he said, the words spilling out like they’d been buried for years, his voice thick with emotion.

You let out a wet giggle through your own tears, and before you knew it, Spencer was sitting on the bed next to you, his hands reaching out to clasp yours. The warmth of his touch was comforting, familiar, and for a moment it felt like all those years apart had never happened. The weight of everything you’d both been holding in pressed down, making this moment both heartbreaking and hopeful.

“Can we… can we try again?” he asked, his voice hopeful, eyes searching yours as if waiting for a lifeline.

You shook your head, sniffling softly. “I’m still engaged, Spencer.”

His face fell slightly, but he stayed close, not letting go of your hands. “You just said you’ll never love them like you loved me.”

“I know,” you admitted, your voice a fragile whisper. “And it’s true… but I still have to talk to them, figure out what to do.”

Spencer nodded slowly, his thumb brushing softly over your knuckles, grounding himself in the contact. “Do you… do you want to be with me?” he asked, voice trembling with the fear and hope of what your answer might be.

You stared into those beautiful, familiar eyes, the ones that once held your world, the ones you thought you’d never see again. “I think so,” you whispered, the words barely escaping your lips. “But, Spencer, I have my whole life here now. More so than ever… and you, you have a life in Virginia.”

“I don’t care,” he said with finality, his voice strong and certain, all doubt gone. “I don’t care, I will go anywhere to be with you. No job is more important than you.”

“Spence…” you murmured, your heart torn between what was and what could be, feeling the pull to him so strong it almost hurt.

“Sweetums,” he teased, the familiar grin spreading across his face, a flicker of the boyish charm you remembered.

“Too soon,” you laughed, shaking your head, but the sound of his voice, the way he said it, made it impossible to hold back the smile tugging at your lips. Even as your heart wrestled with the enormity of the moment, the warmth of Spencer’s presence wrapped around you like a comfort you never wanted to let go.

True to his word, Spencer left that morning, but he didn’t go back to Virginia. Instead, he checked into a hotel nearby, giving you the space he knew you needed while not quite ready to leave you behind.

When you finally heard the jingle of Noa’s keys in the door that evening, your stomach twisted with nerves. You had spent the entire day pacing, replaying the conversation with Spencer in your head, wondering what you would say to Noa, trying to untangle what you really wanted.

“Hey, baby,” You called, your tone neutral as they entered, hanging up their bag.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were married?” Noa asked casually, turning to face you, their eyes sharp with an edge you hadn’t heard before.

“What?” you stammered, feeling like the wind had just been knocked out of you. “I didn’t—”

“To Spencer,” Noa clarified, cutting you off, their voice still eerily calm. “You know, the man that I invited to dinner, who I let stay the night. The man who I made an absolute fool out of myself in front of. The man who told you he’s still in love with you.”

You felt your throat tighten, words failing as the weight of Noa’s calm anger pressed down on you like a heavy stone. Noa had never yelled—they didn’t need to. The steady, even tone made every word land like a blow.

“I didn’t—I don’t…” You struggled to form a coherent thought, desperate to defend yourself, but the truth was right there, undeniable.

“Do you love him?” Noa asked, and for a moment, their voice cracked, the tears finally shining in their eyes.

“Yes,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

“Do you love me?” they pressed, and the desperation in their eyes broke your heart all over again.

“Yes,” you said again, your own tears falling freely.

Noa took a shuddering breath, looking at you like they were seeing you for the first time. “Do you want to get married?” they asked, and the question hung between you like a fragile thread.

You shook your head, your voice breaking as you whispered, “No.”

Noa nodded, silent tears streaming down their face, and the acceptance in their expression was devastating. “Well,” they said softly, swallowing hard as they looked away, their world—your world—crumbling with that single word.

“Noa, I’m sorry,” you said, your voice trembling as you took a tentative step closer, hoping to reach them somehow through the hurt.

Noa nodded, but the gesture was more resigned than understanding. “It’s… what are we going to do?” they asked, their voice thick with uncertainty.

“What?” you asked, your confusion breaking through the tension.

“The wedding,” they clarified, their words heavy with practical sadness. “We have people coming, we paid for everything, we have a house together.”

“Yeah…” you sighed, feeling the weight of all the things that needed to be undone. “You, um, you can keep the house. And I’ll pay you back for the wedding… somehow. I’ll figure it out. And, uh, I’ll send out the cancellations… this is all my fault.”

“It is,” Noa agreed bluntly, and the truth of it stung. “Was the whole relationship a lie?”

“No! God, no,” you panicked, reaching out as if the truth could stop the pain. “Everything was real, I… I didn’t realize I still loved Spencer until I saw him again.”

“That’s it?” Noa’s voice wavered between disbelief and bitterness. “One night, and you’re calling off a whole wedding?”

You sighed, the exhaustion of the situation weighing you down. “I know it’s crazy, but… I’ve already been divorced once. I don’t want to do that again.”

Noa let out a hollow laugh, and for a moment, you saw a glimmer of the person you’d spent years with, a flash of understanding in their eyes. “You’re already planning our divorce?”

The ridiculousness of the whole situation caught up to you both, and despite the pain, you found yourself laughing too—softly, helplessly—as the tension cracked just enough to let some humor seep in. “Maybe?” you offered with a weak smile.

You both laughed then, a bittersweet sound that hung in the air, and for a moment, it felt almost okay—like the world wasn’t falling apart around you. When the laughter faded, you looked at them, your voice soft and hesitant. “Are you… are you going to be okay?”

Noa paused, looking down at the floor before meeting your eyes again. “I mean, this sucks,” they said honestly, their voice raw. “But yeah, I’ll be okay.”

Noa was still possibly the best person you knew, even in the midst of everything falling apart. The two of you sat down together, canceling everything for the wedding, each phone call and email pulling at your heartstrings. But Noa was calm and patient, working through the logistics with you, getting deposits back where you could, dividing your shared assets. Luckily, the separate bank accounts made that part easier.

“What are you going to do now?” Noa asked one day, after you’d gone through another round of cancellations. “Are you moving?”

“I’m not sure,” you admitted, trying to mask the uncertainty. “I hear Virginia is lovely…” You know it is, you’ve visited many times.

Noa nodded slowly, a teasing scoff escaping through the lingering hurt. “Like, where the FBI is?”

“Is it?” you said with a laugh, playing innocent.

“And what about your stores?” they pressed, leaning back as if to put some distance between the weight of the question and the reality of your situation.

You groaned, the stress of it all hitting you at once. “I don’t know… I could sell them? Then give you the money for the wedding.”

Noa laughed softly, elbowing you gently in the ribs. “Y/N, you don’t have to pay for the whole wedding—just, like, ¾ of it.”

You couldn’t help but laugh along with them, grateful for how easy they were making this break. “Okay, deal,” you agreed, grinning through the heaviness. “Maybe Alexi would want to take over.”

That night, you called Alexi, filling them in on everything—Spencer, Noa, the wedding, the whole mess you were working through. They listened patiently, and when you finally finished, they couldn’t hold back their excitement.

“I knew it!” Alexi practically shouted, causing you to laugh, the tension melting away as you shared the absurdity of your current situation with them. After laughing and joking together for a while, you brought up the idea of selling your business. To your relief and surprise, Alexi was more than willing to buy it from you, excited at the opportunity. And just like that, another piece of your life clicked into place as you prepared to move forward.

While all of this was going on, Spencer paced his hotel room like a caged animal. He couldn’t sit still, couldn’t concentrate on anything except the racing thoughts of what could happen—what your decision would be. His phone sat untouched, and though his fingers itched to call someone for support, he was too scared to share any good news before knowing the final verdict. He couldn’t let hope take root, not yet.

The hours dragged on until, late at night, his phone buzzed loudly in the quiet room, lighting up with your contact photo—the one he had never changed, with that adorable smile he couldn’t forget. His heart leapt into his throat as he scrambled to answer, pressing the phone to his ear urgently.

“Hello?” he asked, trying to steady his voice, but the anxious excitement was impossible to hide.

“Hey,” you breathed out, the sound of your voice washing over him like a wave of relief.

“How’d it go?” Spencer’s voice trembled with hope, his nerves hanging on every word.

“Good… good,” you said, and he could hear the faint smile in your voice, something lighter than he’d heard in days. “Um, remember when I visited a while back? And we saw that beautiful red house with the flowers out front?”

“Yeah?” he replied, holding his breath, his mind racing to piece together what you were saying.

“Should we see if it’s on the market?”

Spencer’s chest tightened with joy, and for a moment, the world stood still—just the possibility of a future, of a home, of everything he’d ever wanted with you.

—

“Spencer!” Derek yelled from down the hall, wiping his hands on a rag after finishing up some work.

“Yeah?” Spencer poked his head in the door, dust smudged on his face from their hours of labor on the house.

“I finished this room,” Derek said, gesturing to the newly painted walls and freshly installed trim. “Which one’s next?”

“Let me check,” Spencer said, ducking out for a second before coming back with a checklist. “Bathroom.”

Derek grinned, wiping his forehead. “Y/N’s really calling all the shots, huh?” he teased.

Spencer’s smile softened, his eyes reflecting nothing but warmth. “This is her dream home.”

“What about your dream home?” Derek asked, eyebrow raised.

“She’s my dream home,” Spencer said simply, the words carrying a sincerity that Derek couldn’t help but appreciate.

“That’s sweet, man,” Derek said, clapping Spencer on the shoulder with a smile. “But I’m never letting you live that down.”

Spencer chuckled, shaking his head as he picked up a paint roller, knowing full well Derek meant every word. And that was fine with him—because this was where he wanted to be, building a life with you, step by step.

“Spencer!” you called out urgently from the other side of the house, your voice ringing through the hallways.

Spencer’s heart skipped a beat as he rushed over, worried you might have hurt yourself. “Yeah, baby? Everything okay?” he asked breathlessly as he rounded the corner to find you standing by the bedroom window.

You turned to him with a playful smile, holding up two curtain swatches. “Which curtain do you like?”

Spencer let out a relieved chuckle, shaking his head at his own worry. He walked over to you, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Whatever color you pick will be perfect, my love,” he murmured against your skin.

“Well, obviously I have the final say,” you teased with a grin, “but I still wanted to know what you like.”

“Thank you for considering my opinion,” he laughed, looking thoughtfully at the swatches. “Uh… that one,” he said, pointing to the one in your left hand.

“Thank you! Correct choice,” you teased, dropping the swatches on the floor as you grabbed Spencer’s shirt, pulling him close for a deep, lingering kiss.

He hummed softly against your lips, smiling into the kiss. “Mmm… what was that for?”

You broke the kiss just enough to whisper, “I just love you.”

“Yeah?” Spencer asked with a soft smile, eyes twinkling with mischief. “Enough to marry me again?”

You laughed, caught off guard by the sudden question. “Was that your proposal?” you teased, raising an eyebrow playfully.

Spencer leaned back, pretending to consider his words thoughtfully before nodding with a chuckle. “I think it was,” he admitted, laughing at himself. “So… how’d I do?”

Giggling, you pulled him in for another kiss, your lips meeting his with warmth and certainty. “Amazing. But we’re eloping this time,” you said, resting your forehead against his as the words slipped out between kisses.

“Whatever you say, Mrs. Reid,” he murmured back, his voice full of affection and promise.

—

After months of hard work, the renovations on your new house were finally finished. It had taken time, effort, and a lot of patience, but with Derek’s hands-on help and guidance, you and Spencer transformed it into a home that truly reflected both of you.

The front of the house, a charming red structure framed by an explosion of colorful flowers, felt like something straight out of a storybook. A mix of vibrant yellows, pinks, purples, and reds surrounded the quaint porch, and the white picket fence added a classic touch, making the entire exterior feel warm and inviting.

Inside, the home had become a true sanctuary. Your bedroom was bright and serene, with airy, light-filtering curtains draped over wide windows that bathed the room in soft, natural light. The bed was draped in a red and white blanket that matched the cheerful energy of the house, and shelves lined with books and little mementos from your life with Spencer filled the walls.

The kitchen was a dream—a beautiful, open area filled with pale blue cabinets and golden fixtures that glinted under the soft morning light that poured through the wide, farmhouse-style windows. Wooden open shelves displayed dishes and decor, and the island in the center was the perfect place for shared meals, morning coffee, and cooking side-by-side, something that you and Spencer cherished.

Spencer’s office was a space of calm concentration, tucked into a corner of the house that offered peace and quiet. The walls were painted a deep forest green, and vintage touches—like the rustic wooden desk and traditional-style chair—gave it a classic, studious feel. The large windows allowed in just enough natural light to make it a comfortable, thoughtful workspace, while the thick greenery just outside provided a sense of privacy and focus.

After the renovations were done, you and Spencer knew there was no better way to celebrate than to invite all your closest friends and family for a “housewarming” party. The BAU team, your parents, Alexi, and a few other close friends gathered at the house to tour the renovations, see all the changes, and share in the excitement of your new beginning. Laughter filled the rooms as everyone admired the work you’d both put into the home and marveled at the way it reflected both of you so perfectly.

But the tour was just the beginning. As everyone made their way to the backyard, the sun started to dip below the horizon, the sky turning into the golden hour glow of soft oranges and pinks. The moment felt magical, and you knew it was time to share your real surprise.

You stood beside Spencer, a wide smile on your face as you addressed your loved ones, your voice carrying across the yard. “We’re so happy that you all could come to celebrate our home with us,” you started, your eyes twinkling as you looked to Spencer. “But, actually, that’s not the only reason we asked you all to be here today.”

There were murmurs of curiosity and excitement, eyes darting between you and Spencer as he took your hand. “This is our version of eloping,” he announced, his voice warm and steady, and there was a collective gasp from the crowd as they began to realize what was happening.

“We’re getting married,” you added, barely able to keep from bursting into laughter and tears all at once. And as you turned to Noa—your now close friend and recently ordained officiant—you saw the beaming smile on their face as they stepped forward to take their place at the center of the garden, ready to join you and Spencer in marriage once again, this time surrounded by the people who meant the most to you both.

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onysfavreader · 8 months ago

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Random hc of being Ony's hyperfemblack!wife

You getting spoiled way to much but Ony who doesn't mind because his girl deserves the universe and more

Ony who can never have enough pictures and videos of you on his phone because he is quick to show you off at any chance you recording little maintenance vlogs for your photo shoots together

Ony who just loves you so much and never want to not see you smile

Ony being the only one to help you handle your emotions and make you feel better because he knows you can't help but be so emotional "Shh baby tell me what's wrong" "What happened ma why you look so upset"

Picks you up if you try to walk away from him when you're upset

Ony letting you decorate bc you're helping each other create your dream lives and that included giving you your dream pinterest house and closet lmao

You being the only one who gets to see Ony's soft side after you spent forever trying to get through to him like he put you through the worst when you first started talking but now he makes up for it every day and you brag about it to yourself because it took you forever to get him to that point

You not being any better in the beginning of your relationship those half assed ‘situationships’ could never prepare you for your relationship with Ony your the reason ony’s patience and trust for you is as high as it is

You two giving golden retriever and black cat energy Ony doesn’t look like he likes anyone and doesn’t but is the sweetest ever once you really get to know him especially to you and you looking the sweetest on the outside but you’re are worse then people think Ony is

Ony supporting you through everything and you doing the same even if you don't know exactly what he's doing you trust him

You walking around wrapped in a robe or one of many blankets almost everyday bc your always cold until Ony caught on buying you hoodies and jackets in his size just to see how cute you look when they cover so much more of your body than his

Ony giving you all the hugs kisses and praises he can because he knows you fiend off his attention and will throw the worst fits when you don't get it

You holding onys two fingers instead of his hand bc he's so big

Ony who lifts double your weight on a bad day this and just picks you up and you love it until he pisses you off "Put my ass down now" you shout trying to push him away "Why you not talking to me ma what's wrong" "Boy fuck you" "We gotta work on the mouth of yours" "Ony put me down" You laughed as he carried you to your bedroom “Don’t laugh now” “Baby I’m sorry” “I don’t want to hear none of that ma”

You absolutely loving Ony and the life you've built together

You're only piece of gold jewelry is an anklet with an 'o' charm and you refuse to take off even after he offered to get it in silver

Buying Ony just as many if not more flowers then he buys you

Ony and you having two dogs that are your babies. Ony's being some big 'scary' dog like a black pit bull that absolutely adores you and your a cute little brown toy poodle that Ony tries not to trip over bc they follow him almost as much as you follow him

You and Ony would have different "rooms" that would be your own space yours would be in the attic and he would have his in the basement but you two would still have your bed room

Ony never letting you know what he does for work but he keeps you safe and happy so you push your suspensions aside

You and Ony being the cutest together like your head over heels for him and he completely adores you

You being onys entire world and universe sun and all with the brightest smile on your pretty face and biggest heart

You both having to learn to love but know you want to be with each other for the rest of your lives so you push through the rough patches

Ony cooks and you bake

Ony doing the bathroom, dish, taking out the trash, fixing things, lawn work, bills, bugs, ect

You organizing, decorates, takes care of the dogs, cleans laundry, houses maintenance, groceries, ect

You and Ony who spoil each other rotten and love it

You doing Ony's hair and it's just a cute moment between you two every few weeks one of you will set up the bathroom before going to get the other then you'll sit on the sink with him in front of you most off the time it's quiet as Ony watches you concentrate

You rarely buying Ony gifts because you're always making something for him

You never being able to get enough of Ony

You have the prettiest garden with flowers herbs and fruits that you somehow managed to scared the dogs away from and plug!Ony will some times ask for help when growing his weed

- smut

Definitely the daddy dom of your my dreams he can be the sweetest softest dom ever or the scariest brat tamer but a pleasure dom either way

You almost being apillow princess bc Ony loves being the one to make you cum just by using you but you knowing how to suck it off the bone and neither of you can resist having him down your throat

You being a sweetheart but when you aren’t you can get a horrible attitude and smart mouth only Ony can handle because he knows how to keep your mouth full

Ony can't help but come inside of you so he pays for your birth control

Ony's 's so big and strong and so so big especially compared to you and you love it just the thought turns you on like just looking up at him while you standing next to him maybe holding his fingers and all you can do is squeeze your legs together

Ony fucking you in his hoodies

His voice is music to your ears but His praise will make you're eyes roll back and brain go dumb every time "Fuck you're so good baby just like that" "There you go ma"

You calling him daddy bc what is an Ony

Being each other's biggest eaters

Ony will pick you up and carry you away to your bedroom when he needs you and when you need him you’ll wrap your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist or you’ll straddle his lap until he eventually gets it

You are definitely kinker then ony hands down and has to teach him things like

You liking soft intimate sex and Ony who fucks you so hard you go dumb almost every time And somehow he always knows which one you need

#aot x black reader #ony x black reader #plug!ony #ony x reader #aot onyankopon #ony smut #aot smut

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prettyboykatsuki · 3 months ago

Text

give yourself up, my treat | h. sakura

✮ tags ; afab + fem!reader (referred to as girlfriend, descriptions of makeup and nails), implied to be shorter than sakura, omorashi, piss!!!! / wetting, humiliation, lots of crying / embarrassment, praise kink, somewhat public, femdom, depictions of subspace, d/s dynamics, like... soft loving sex as aftercare but this is honestly pure kink lol sorry, 18+

✮ wc ; 4.6k (i dont want to talk about it man)

✮ a/n ; this is piss kink. like. full stop. full stop omorashi. im warning you now that this is piss kink to the highest extent. srry sakura . finally let him top and it was after making him piss himself. rip

also!! while sakura is describing how shameful he feels he is doing this all very willingly. they have a safeword but sakura does not feel any need to use it.

✮ synopsis ; sakura lets you push his limits any way you please.

Sakura listens to everything you say. Like some kind of moron.

Can’t help himself really, as much as it irritates him to admit.

That’s always just been his instinct. Any time he finds himself in unfamiliar waters, he leans into that as much as possible. He’s survived a long time by trusting his intuition and a longstanding distrust of other people. It speaks a lot to someone's character usually if Sakura is even mildly inclined to trust them.

He isn’t sure if it’s his intuition that drives him to follow your order without question, but it’s a strong enough pull he finds he can’t help himself even when he so, so badly wants to resist it.

It’s not Sakura’s fault. It’s not really yours either. That’s just how you’ve always been. How its always been.

(Once, well before you and Sakura were a thing - Nirei had made an observation about you. Called you disarming. Suo laughed and agreed before adding that it felt a little misleading to describe you that way even if it was true.

You had just moved into the area after a disciplinary case in your hometown. You’d beat up another student who was bullying your friend, got expelled and moved out on your own after the fact. Cut ties with your family and everything.

Despite the general air of mystery around you, there was something about you that Sakura felt pulled him in. For some reason, you never triggered his fight or flight even when it was way easier to do it. For some reason you made him comfortable, always knowing his limits and rarely teasing him even for laughs.

An undeniable magnetism to you appealed to him a lot more than it repulsed him. )

Over the years, Sakura has mulled a lot over your relationship. How you approached him at fifteen with a cool, carefree attitude that left him uselessly infatuated against his will. How you took your time in getting to know him for years. Later, how you confessed. Roped him into the relationship so seamlessly that by the time things happened for real, Sakura felt totally unnerved by how inevitable—how deliberate you were about it right from the start. Something that occurred to him too late.

You’ve always been good at placating his many troubles too, even when you’re the cause of them. His lingering paranoia, his serious attitude, his inability to deal with compliments. You handle all of it with such grace it’s like those parts of him don’t even exist. Maybe it’s because you went through something similar to him, but you understand all of it well - though you dealt with it in the opposite way he does.

Your carefree acceptance has proved to have a good influence on him. He’s less anxious and more relaxed around you. He always feels like listening to you, and always does - and after dating for four years, he’s rarely mad about it.

Sakura always listens to everything you say because some part of him is conditioned too. His body does it instinctively, placing more trust in your words than he does in even himself. You’ve built that in him.

As troublesome as you can be, you’ve yet to lead him astray.

Embarrassing as it is, a long relationship has instilled a sense of obedience to you and his… love for you that runs deeper even than his intuition.

That’s why, when you tell Sakura to—

“Drink,”

—he does it without hesitation.

He drinks another cup of tea in one gulp before wiping the corner of his lip as you smile at him very briefly.

He no longer feels a clear sense of how much time has passed, despite the fact he’s currently very sober.

Cramped against the wall, Sakura’s head spins as you lean your weight against his other side and chat with Umemiya over drinks. An airy smile on your lips and gentle look in your eye. Damn you.

His chest heaves as the thick, warm air enters his lungs and stifles his already difficult breathing further. Dim lights overhead cast shadow underneath the table and only barely illuminate the topside well enough to see the remnants of a long night. Empty glasses, canisters of beer and shochu as well as a variety of small plates cleared of everything apart from stray crumbs littering its surface.

Around him, his loved ones part into small groups and chat amongst each other. Sakura has no idea what the topic of conversation is anymore. He hasn’t heard anything other than the sound of your voice in his head for an hour and hasn’t spoken up for the last thirty minutes. When someone tries to call him into conversation, he mumbles something before you speak for him and no one bats an eye at this for which Sakura’s fucking grateful.

It’s so hard to think of anything when his bladder feels this painfully full.

His head is filled with white noise, red flush crawling even further along his neck until it dusts along his nose - up to the ends of his ears. Under the table, your fingers drift subtly to his inner thigh and push inward. Sakura winces, biting back a pathetic little whimper and glaring at you weakly from the corner of his eyes.

This is torture.

You aimlessly draw something in his thigh with your fingers before smiling gently as you nudge another cup of lukewarm tea his way. Leaning in while your conversation partners are all distracted by ordering something else, you whisper into his ear. The light warmth of your breath makes him shake, painful pressure in his abdomen steadily increases as the liquid starts to travel down his throat. Your hand is careful as it slides underneath his black t-shirt and lightly grazes his skin. It’s dark enough to not be obvious. The dull ends of your manicured nails scratch lightly at the soft, lower swell of his belly before the pads of your fingers push hard into his core.

His body gives into the pressure, eyes widening with fear at the sudden sensation. He barely stifles a gasp before shooting you another mean look you easily ignore.

“Haruka,” You hand him his cup again, filled to the very brim with liquid. “Drink some more tea,”

He grits his teeth.

“Fucksake. I can’t—I can’t.”

You raise an eyebrow as your hand smooth down his thighs. Your lips quirk up into a smile so smug it nearly rocks him out of his anger.

“Is that right?”

A test. He’s always welcome to give up. He knows that. He knows that if he does you won’t hold it against him either. You want him to do it because he wanted too, always. He hates that about you.

Sakura grinds his teeth and takes a hold of the ceramic tea cup, knocking the lukewarm tea back in one go. Your expression morphs into something pleased and endeared from the corner of his eyes and his heart starts to flutter. He isn’t sure if he’s thankful or not for all the people around, for the environment.

It gives you free reign to lean even further into him and whisper the words he’s been desperately aching to hear all evening.

“Good boy,” You hum, careful and deliberate. A innocent kiss gets placed on his cheek, the lipgloss dampening his skin. “You’re being so, so strong.”

The words him melt him unwittingly. From the top of his head to the tips of his toes, the rush of affection threads through his nerves and unwinds his sense of danger further. Enough that he might slip completely. He has to hold it until the clock hits midnight. Just until then. You’ll take a cab home and Sakura will relieve himself finally, finally. It’s seventeen more minutes until he can go home and empty his bladder. He can’t screw up now.

This is the first time you’ve made Sakura hold in public. You’ve always been considerate enough to do it at home where the safety net of your mutual understanding and familiar bathroom are there even if he fails to keep it in. Even if he pissed himself in your living room or in your bedroom - it can be dry cleaned or tossed. Most of all there’s no one to explain it too.

In public it’s different. He could pretend that he’s drunk and while it wouldn’t be less fucking embarrassing - at least it’s understandable. Sakura is sure that’s part of the reason you chose a place like this do to attempt such a public play. To give him the out, just in case.

But regardless, the shame and humiliation of not being able to hold it in front of everyone he knows is a threat. It’s just so goddamn embarrassing. So horrible and awful. The anxiety makes his stomach churn but he can’t focus on a damn thing else.

He has to go. He has too.

He always whines about how much he hates this but you both know he doesn’t entirely mean it. It’s not that he likes this miserable sensation, as much as he likes how you get off on it. How sadistic it turns his unusually kind and light-hearted girlfriend.

You’ve always relished in Sakura’s shame like the freak you are. Pure pleasure on your face and absolute adoration as you watched Sakura break apart slowly and guide him through it with hushed whispers. Watching the light color of his jeans or joggers stain dark from wetness or watch him be jostle around enough to almost piss but not enough to give him actual relief. Teasing him until he trickles and makes his own boxers damp enough to be uncomfortable—to be cognizant of the fact he’s pissed himself helplessly while not being able to take care of it on his own. Not without your explicit permission.

You’ve done all sorts of play together. Usually, you have and indoor date and movie night where Sakura knocks back a few liters over of water over long few hours and gets increasingly desperate. And you get him hard during that, always sure to tease him until he’s just on the edge of wetting himself.

You always shower together afterwards. Yet, you don’t hesitate to touch Sakura’s soft, piss soaked cock with reverence either way. Quick to praise him, whether or not he’s failed or succeeded in holding it. Despite how shameful the whole thing is and how much he protested it at the start - some part of him deep, deep down can admit he sort of likes it. Or at least, he likes the pleasure he gets from you when you take the reigns.

It feels good, though he really resents even kind of admitting that. The relief from holding and holding and holding and then finally getting to let go is just as good every time. Pissing himself always feels good in the moment.

And you’re always so aroused by him after. He likes that way more than everything else being frank. Likes the way you get wet over his humiliation. Likes how softly you stroke and lick his cock when he’s all cleaned up, eyes lidded and full of pure love as he gets to cum too - another reward for holding in so well. He loves the warm whispers of good boy against his neck and shoulders when you finally sink down on his length and the way you feel when he holds you in his lap and buries his face into your shoulder.

All of that feels so much better when he does what he’s told and he likes listening to you. So even though it’s usually against his best interest in conditions like these - he bites his tongue and continues to drink until he feels like he’s sating your appetite, silently ignoring the ballooning in his bladder only getting worse with each pass of breath.

And he drinks, and drinks, and drinks until the clock hits midnight.

You’re deliberately brutal in the last seventeen minutes. In that time, you make Sakura down at least another half liter of liquid and continue to tease him all the way until the izakaya closes. He’s antsy by the time the night ends. His friends slowly disperse outside and go home in different directions until it’s just the two of you waiting for a taxi to come pick you up.

Sakura is counting the fucking seconds.

He needs to go, but he doesn’t want to piss himself in the taxi. His legs are crossed, shifting his weight anxiously as you hold his hand and smile plainly like nothing in the world is going on.

Another two minutes until the cab arrives, another twelve to go home. You hum to yourself as you reach your hand up and caress the back of his neck, palm brushing the trimmed hair and sliding slowly over his rapid pulse and flush skin. With no one around, you don’t bother hiding your intentions. You slide your hand just into the waistband of his black jeans, just above his soft cock.

His brows raise high as your eyes lock.

And then you push at that angle - push hard enough he feels a slight trickle. Not enough to stain his light-wash jeans, but enough that the fabric of his underwear is noticeably damp. Sweat forms at his temple from a mix of stress and shame - eyes screwed closed as he curses. He’s afraid to look at you but does anyway.

You’re smiling just as warmly as he thought you’d be. His voice cracks under the weight.

He thinks this is the hardest it’s ever been. The pressure is so much stronger when there’s stakes and Sakura is mildly horrified. And he has to go so bad, so bad he can’t think of anything else.

“Fucking—,” He crumbles, feeling shameful and red faced and lightheaded as he admits this to you with trembling lips and terrified eyes. “Dunno if I can make it home, I need to - “

You stand in front of him and push up slightly to kiss him. It’s a nice distraction. Your soft, sweet lips salve his nerves just a touch. You gaze up at him lovingly.

“It’s okay baby, promise. Home soon.”

The words of protest die on his lips. Despite being taller than you, Sakura finds himself feeling so incredibly small. So incredibly helpless and so, so dependent on you in that moment he hardly knows what to do with himself. It usually takes him longer to get like this. You’re the only that can bat for him if he really does wet himself. He’s doing everything you say, being obedient, chasing after the familiar high of the aftermath and it’s sinking him so deep into that headspace. He feels suspended in air.

He grips your hands a little tighter and you smile at him. His brows furrow.

“Wanna hold me a little baby? On the way home.”

He nods feeling as tender as ever and you nod back, kissing his temple.

“Mm. Good boy. It’s okay.”

He hides a whimper into your hair as he hugs you from behind, a light laugh leaving your lips when he does. Two minutes feels like two hours.

The taxi pulls up not long after. You open the doors for him and talk to the driver, giving him your address. Something plays on the radio that gets turned up to give you and Sakura some room as the driver makes way. It’s a short, short drive over to your apartment. Just seven minutes.

As soon as the driver steps on the gas, Sakura turns his gaze on you pleadingly. And you smile at him, shifting to lay a little against his chest. He buries his face against your shoulder in measured breaths as your other hand comes up to play with his hair.

“You’re extra whiny today,” You whisper without any malice. A doting edge to your words. “Can’t help it can you? We’re almost home, baby.”

Sakura bites back another whimper, mustering as much sense into his speech as he can though he hardly wants to talk. Hardly wants to think, either.

“So close, Haruka. Just a little more and then you can go.” You nudge him with your nose “Such a good boy.”

“So full,” The words come out hot, on a heavy breath as his hand grips your waist tighter. “Can’t—no more,”

“Shh,” You soothe. The shared affection between you looks like normal PDA through the reflection in the drivers mirror and it makes him feel even more self-conscious. “Three more minutes, Haru. A minute or two to walk in. Two minutes in the elevator, and another two to get the door unlocked. Nine minutes. You’ve held it for so long. I know you can hold it in a little longer.”

He grits his teeth and closes his eyes. “Tell me I’m good.”

“So good baby.” You nuzzle against the crown of his head. “So, so good.”

The next few minutes feel like a complete blur.

One more light until the driver pulls into the parking lot of your complex, politely wishing you goodnight before pulling away. Sakura nearly has to lean on you as you walk into the empty elevator and take the trip upstairs. His grip on your hand is tight as you lead him through the corridor, grips even tighter as you fish your keys out from your purse and unlock the door.

The sound of the lock undoing makes Sakura feel so relieved. You usher him in carefully, his thighs tight and knees nearly buckling from the pressure of his bladder. He’s so full it’s painful, so full it aches and it’s so much he can’t think about anything except that and how much he wants to be free from it. He's delirious and sweaty. He just needs to go so badly.

He tries to rush to the bathroom but jostling around while he walks doesn't work out well.

A looming sense of panic sets in immediately.. He knows what's coming instinctively - the uncontrollable relaxation on his muscles when his body has reached his limit. He looks up at you pleadingly, though he’s not sure what he’s even asking you for.

He can’t think. Barely moving as something starts to unfold inside of him, crashing into him all at once.

It’s obvious that he’d start to feel the urge to piss when he's comfortable at hom, finally in his own space but—

He shakes his head, looking at you with blown out eyes.

“I can’t,” He hiccups as he shuffles closer and closer to the living room, teary at his lashline Trying his best to get to the bathroom and failing. “Can’t make it to the—fuck, please, I can’t. It’s.—It’s gonna, I’m gonna -“

Your eyes widen in understanding as you crouch just at the entrance alongside him, petting his back.

“Oh sweetheart,” Your voice is the softest, sweetest sound he’s heard all night. “Poor thing. Shh, it’s okay baby. Let go. It’s alright, I promise. You did so good.”

Something in him...breaks. Shatters.

His eyes go wide before they blur with tears and piss leaks from between his legs unwittingly.

Sakura is reduced down to sobbing. His whole body shudders so hard, he’s knees buckling under the weight as the pressure finally stops. He can’t help but listen, even though he’s so, so ashamed of himself.

Fuck. Fuck, it feels so good.

Sakura finally, finally lets go. He crumbles under his own weight, shrinking down to his knees as he feels it soak through the layers in a hot rush between his legs. His clothes dampen and drench as he lets out long breaths. You card your fingers through his hair as he sobs through the endless stream. It feels like it’s never going to stop. He can’t open his eyes to look but he can feel the puddle forming underneath him, how it soaks into his jeans and shoes and makes them wet. How ashamed and humiliated he feels being completely unable to stop himself from wetting himself. It flows and flows and flows, testament to just how much he had to drink.

The entirety of his pant leg is soaked with his own piss and mess. Embarrassment makes him curl up as he’s unable to stop once he starts. It goes on for so long. But it feels so good to let it out. The sheer sense of relief is more of what’s making him sob than anything else.

Piss trickles down his legs as he heaves through deep breaths and short sobs. He feels your hands cup his face as you bend in a squat, unconcerned with the way it splashes against your shoes or tights. When he finally gets his vision back as you swipe his tears away, you’re looking at him with such reverence he wants to cry all over again.

“You did so good baby,” You praise, warming him. You kiss him on the lips first before brushing against the crown of his head. “So good. You’re so perfect. Let’s get you cleaned up, hm? Give you you your reward.”

He sniffles as he stares at you. “You’re such a damn pervert.”

You laugh a little. “Mm, that’s true. Sorry, baby.”

Clean-up is always less of a hassle then he expects it to be.

Maybe because you have a routine for it now, but it doesn’t take very long at all. You do most of the heavy lifting during it which only worsens the feeling helplessness Sakura has been experiencing for the last few hours. He doesn’t make any effort to get away or out from that headspace, though it dies down with time. The promise of a reward has been the only thing keeping him level for hours now and he’d be damned to let it all go to waste after he worked so hard.

After a long, warm shower and change of clothes - Sakura finally gets what he wants more than anything.

Affection and attention.

In the safety of your bedroom, Sakura feels particularly floaty as he holds you in your lap. Lazy and worn out, he nuzzles himself against your neck as he feels your naked torso squish against his. He’s too embarrassed to tell you verbally like this that he loves you and hopes the nuzzling does the job for him.

Your nails feel good on his scalp as you card them again through his wet hair. Your skin smells nice too, and you’re soft and warm. The mellow thump of your heartbeat soothes him as you shower him in endless praise. It’s usually impossible for you to do this. Only when he’s bone tired like this do you get the chance.

Too embarrassing to let you do it unless he’s worked hard for it like he did today.

Sakura feels his length slide against your pussy and lets out a soft noise. You’re always so wet during this kind of play. It makes him feel wanted in a way he finds cringeworthy and doesn’t dare voice. Still, he doesn’t mind the feeling - aimlessly sliding his hips up and against your slick folds with a huff.

You do him the favor of moving. Copying the gesture by sliding yourself up and against his cock without penetration. His fingers tighten on your hips, cock painfully sensitive as he whimpers. Pre-cum leaks from his tip, weepy and spent and red as he humps against you even harder - lost in the sensation.

“Wanna cum like this Haruka? Don’t need to ask permission.”

“Nghh.”

He nods wordlessly as you grind yourself down harder onto him. His tip passes over your clit enough times to make you sigh pleasantly, and that sound drives him over the edge. Thick ropes of white cum spills against your soft pussy as Sakura moans and shudders violently. Despite how close you are, he can’t help but feel like it’s not close enough.

Maybe you sense it, because you do him the favor of sliding yourself onto his half hard cock without so much as another word. It’s still not enough for him, but it sates him better than before at least. He wraps his arms around you hard and squeezes tight. Just for a little while.

He scowls a little as he looks up at you, sobering up enough to form a sentence after spending some time hugging you. “Have you cum yet?”

“Don’t worry about it, baby.”

“Shut up,” He replies with no bite and a scowl. Another flush crawls across his face. “I can make you feel good too.”

You raise your eyebrow.

“Sounds like you’re declaring war not trying to give me an orgasm. I’m glad I made you feel good though,” You add cheekily. He flusters immediately, instinctively getting aggressive but not wanting to shove you off of him even as you break out into a fit of laughter.

“Fuck off. I d-don’t feel good doing that weird shit with you. I only do it because - “

You interject. “Because you love me? That’s a better reason to you? How sweet Haru.”

He frowns deeply.

“Be quiet, you—don’t put words in my mouth, damn it.”

“Pfft, okay. I’m sorry. I hope I’m not pushing you too much.”

He huffs a little, pouting as he goes back to pressing his cheek to your skin. His voice is a touch softer than it was before.

“I don’t do things for bullshit reasons. Stupid.”

“I’m glad, then. Even so, you had a tough time today hm? So I’ll let you fuck me as much as you like. Just do whatever you feel like.”

“I wanna…return to the favor or whatever.” He says after thinking on it. “Just… wanna make you feel good too. Like….” His voice goes small “…You make me feel. Or whatever.”

You smile at him. He can feel it, not see it. He’s avoiding looking at your face since he’s sure you’re all goofy and loveydovey.

“The floor is all yours. No rush though okay? I like spoiling you and we’ve got all night.”

Sakura scowls, casting his gaze down at the bedroom floor. “….I love you.”

You smile and press another kiss to his head. He feels so content he wants to die. Your reply comes easily anyway.

“I love you too, Haruka.”

#piss cw #writing tag #sakura x reader #sakura smut #windbreaker x reader #windbreaker smut #tbh this is not worth tagging its simply too niche but who cares

227 notes · View notes

pochipop · 1 year ago

Text

＃MYSTIC MESSENGER !! ♡ — BEING VULNERABLE WITH YOU.

#. synopsis! — how they show their trust .

#. characters! — jumin, zen (hyun), yoosung, saeyoung (707), saeran (ray), jihyun (v) .

#. warnings! — slight angst.

#. others! — navigation & masterlist .

#. a/n! — come join my discord server? it's newly opened with a fantasy bakery theme! we have emojis from genshin impact, honkai star rail, sanrio, overwatch, pokemon, mystic messenger, and more! a collection of funny stickers, channels to promote yourself, meet new friends, share your writing/art, + lots more! plus, our staff is very chill and friendly! we'd love to see you there! <;33

＃ JUMIN !! ♡

Jumin, who never really thought himself to be the romantic type, but loses himself so easily in his relationship with you that he’d do anything imaginable just to see you smile for him. This sophisticated, pressed-suit wearing, stone-faced man who just crumbles when it comes to you, —who once thought love was some sick ruse made to rope people in and keep them hostage to their feelings, suddenly realizing that this rush is marvelous, and he can’t quite clearly remember a time before his heart seemed to beat for you. This man who swore he’d never love someone enough to put aside everything else on his mind and just live in the moment who sheds that dry cleaned business attire at the end of every workday and lets himself come undone for you. His walls come down and he welcomes you inside, and for once, he’s not scared of what will happen when you see the parts of him that perhaps aren’t as pretty as others. He lets you see the beautiful mess he’s made of himself over the years, and it’s then that he begins to pick up all these tattered pieces, finally preparing to put himself back together again. And recognizing you’ll help him do so is the sweetest comfort he’s ever known.

＃ HYUN (ZEN) !! ♡

Hyun, who stops pretending to be perfect over time and lets you see him in all the stages of healing. This man who often shields himself from the world, hiding behind a mask of narcissistic confidence, who finally lets his imperfections seep through to the surface and breathes another sigh of relief every single time you stay in the aftermath. He lets you in on the insecurities that lap at his ankles much more often than he'd ever had liked to have admitted before. He lets you hold him when he shatters instead of pushing you away, —dulls all his rigid edges to feel your warmth surround him, as if lowering all his defenses for the very first time. The world can be a cruel place to those that have made mistakes, but Hyun feels like he's finally found someone who can look at him for more than just the pretty, well-kempt face he maintains for the public. There's no sense of shame he feels the need to drown in when you let him fall apart in your arms. There's no crushing feeling of disappointment or suffocating feeling of disdain. He's more human than he fears he's ever been when your thumbs wipe the tears from beneath his eyes and you whisper to him that everything will be okay.

＃ YOOSUNG !! ♡

Yoosung, who learns over time how to not let things fester until they’ve built up so much he can’t keep them in any longer. For all he is and might not ever be, he’s come to realize that it’s okay to express his emotions before they reach a boiling point. He comes to you at the onset of upsetedness, —allows himself to feel frustrated without stuffing it down and pretending the problem doesn’t exist until it explodes. He finds that it’s so much easier to be earnest when you never talk down to him or make him feel like he’s any less of a person in your eyes because of it. Sometimes he needs advice, and other times, he just needs someone to talk to. No matter the case, he seeks you out before anyone else, knowing that you care enough about him to value his thoughts and opinions without qualifiers or regulations. He holds grudges sometimes that aren’t good for his own sake, and being shut down when he tries to address them only adds fuel to the fire. Having someone who truly listens and tells him that it’s okay to feel the way he does goes such a long way, —perhaps longer than you’ll ever know.

＃ SAEYOUNG (707) !! ♡

Saeyoung, who lets himself be honest eventually, —who lets himself chip away and then lets you smooth him over. He’s done a lot of things he’s not proud of, and he doesn’t need anyone to tell him that it wasn’t his fault. Whether it was or wasn’t doesn’t matter as much as what he knows he has to do going forward, and the last thing he really wants is to be coddled out of pity. He just wants to be heard, no sympathy necessary, no fawning over the way he sheds the skin he used to wear when he felt like happiness was millions of miles away. He just wants to be listened to. To Saeyoung, it’s the ultimate show of trust to admit to all the things he regrets, let them spill out like word vomit and not have to worry about the consequences. He doesn’t need you to understand, and knows you likely can’t given the specifics of his life’s course thus far, but knowing that you’re keen on carrying the burden with him is such an insurmountable feeling of relief. Finally, someone knows every grimy little corner of his soul and they still love him, still hold him, still want him. . . There’s nothing quite like it.

＃ SAERAN (RAY) !! ♡

Saeran, who lets little things slip as time goes on, —stares a little longer when he passes twin popsicles in grocery stores because he knows you won’t ask why. As much as he likes to pretend that he can fix things by pretending they never hurt him in the first place, there are always scars that linger just below the surface, ready to burst at the first sight of mint-colored liquids or at the first sound of deceptively sweet voices offering commands from the shadows. He carries a lot around with him wherever he goes, and just loving him until the sun dies isn’t a cure-all. You can’t turn back time and shield him from all the things in his life that have left him feeling like a shattered stain glass window. All the love in the world can’t fix the past. But there’s nothing that means more to him than knowing he can lean on you, —even if he doesn’t always do it. There’s such a sweet comfort in knowing he can turn to you when he feels like he’s drowning. And if sometimes that manifests only in letting himself shed a few tears while he eats an ice cream cone outside next to you in the sunshine, then so be it.

＃ JIHYUN (V) !! ♡

Jihyun, who talks about it all a little at a time, —about the good and the bad, the ugly and the beautiful; because it wasn’t always bad. There were times before you came in which he’d been so in love that he’d have done anything to stay exactly where he was, to freeze those moments up and keep them in a capsule that could never be shaken. And it’s important for Jihyun to tell you about those things every now and again, to let you in and reminisce on the way he’d once been so sure of it all, so ready to settle down and stay exactly where he was. But it’s equally as important for him to bare the remnants of the betrayal for you to kiss, and hold, and make peace with. He likes to think you understand him better in the wake of it, —that you’ve seen him in a new light every time he sits with you and tells you of the loss, the desire, the yearning, and all the ways he wishes things could have been different for everyone. In the end, he’s here, and there’s nowhere else he’d rather be.

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farfromstrange · 10 months ago

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Now That We Don't Talk | Frank Castle x F!Reader

BONUS FIC

See this post for more information on my Valentine's Day Special & Follower Celebration, but these fics can be read separately!

Read Is It Over Now? for better clarity.

Pairing: Frank Castle x F!Reader (past Matt Murdock x F!Reader)

Summary: You go home with the guy from the bar, and he makes you forget about your ex.

Warnings: SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI), oral f!receiving, use of "attagirl", slight Dom!Frank, song references, unprotected p in v, dirty talk

Word Count: 2.9k

A/n: You wanted a part 2, so you're getting a part 2! Anyway, I don't write Frank often, so I hope it isn't too bad. It's also not as spicy as you probably expected, but I wanted this to fit the vibe of the previous fic (link above). You don't need to have read it to understand this, but it is highly recommended because some references might confuse you. Thank you all for taking part in this event!

You believed that your life had ended when you lost him. He painted your world in the brightest colors, but by breaking your heart, he took them away. All that was left to see was a boring shade of gray in a sea of sadness.

Matt told you from the start that being with him wouldn’t be easy. You were willing to try. He needed someone, and you wanted to be that someone to him. You accepted him unconditionally.

In the end, giving everything wasn’t enough. He chose her over you, and the castle you two had built came crashing down on you while he stood idly by.

You’re not a bitter person, you have never been, but he made you fall for him; he made you believe that there was hope for the future and that you would grow old together. He stole years of your life in which you were trying to save him from himself. In return, he took the best care of you, but that doesn’t matter much now that he has taken your heart and shattered it like a glass of red wine on a white cloth.

When you left him, you thought the distance would kill you. You truly believed that this was the end of everything, not just your relationship with the man you thought was the one but yourself as well. “This isn’t what it looks like!” he said the day you found out the ugly truth.

“I trusted you,” you remember saying. You couldn’t even cry. The pain burned brighter than the sun, and it dried your eyes before they could even shed a tear.

He argued with you that, “It was just a kiss,” but you not once believed him.

“Are you sure about that? ‘Cause if I ask Elektra, I’m sure she will tell me the truth.”

“No.”

It was at that moment you lost all of your trust in him—in what could have been or should have been the two of you, forever—and it was also the moment that Matt realized he had lost you.

You believed that he took everything you ever were that day because your life revolved around him, and only him.

You remember him opening his mouth, having the audacity to apologize. “I’m sorry,” he said, begging you not to leave.

“Fuck you!” you had never sworn at him until that day.

You still remember the way the necklace with his initial felt when you tore it off your neck and tossed it at his feet. He knew you better than anyone, and you felt like you finally belonged somewhere. That necklace was a symbol of your undying love, or so you thought, anyway. Now you know that he may have known you to some extent, but you didn’t matter enough for him not to climb into bed with his ex-girlfriend.

You couldn’t even look at the necklace. He told you, “This is a piece of my heart,” when he gave it to you on a snowy Christmas Day three years ago. You cherished it the same way you cherished his soul. He was broken, but he was your broken man. He was everything to you.

Matt Murdock was your moon, your son, and your entire universe. It all seemed far away that you could ever feel about anyone this way again.

You saw a future with him. Married, a house in the suburbs, and working with Foggy and Karen in their new law office after everything they’ve been through. You were a hopeful person back then.

Karen told you that he went to a party a couple of weeks after you separated. He didn’t look like himself. You wonder if he felt anxious, knowing his only source of comfort was no longer there. You wouldn’t know until you asked him, but you refused to answer his calls.

Part of you felt euphoric, knowing that he was broken too, but you also felt angry because he was the reason you found your heart beyond repair as he stepped on it like a burning cigarette, and in your mind, he had no right to feel this way.

You’re a fucking traitor, Matthew Murdock! I wish we’d never met.

“Another one for the lady,” a voice says beside you.

Your empty glass of tequila disappears and a full one slides in its place. In your drunken haze, you see a head of brown hair, and his smirk makes you wonder if there’s more to him than he lets on.

“Thank you,” you murmur, tipping your glass to the stranger.

“Nah, don’t thank me.” He gets up from his seat and sits down on the empty bar stool next to you. “You look miserable,” he says.

“What if I am?”

“I’d tell you I know the feeling.”

You huff but offer the stranger your hand. You introduce yourself.

He smiles. Your name rolls off his tongue effortlessly. “Frank,” he introduces himself in return. “Castle.”

“Nice to meet you,” you say.

You thought nothing and no one could pull you out of the dark hole your breakup tossed you into. You believed yourself dead and long beyond the point of redemption. You accepted it. You swallowed in your misery, giving up on finding a new purpose in your life because the one great thing you had was no longer yours. He fell into a grave that he dug for himself, and he dragged your relationship down with him.

Looking into Frank’s eyes now though, you no longer feel like a corpse. And you realize that you are not dead, not at all—you are very much alive.

The door almost breaks off its hinges when Frank shoves you into his apartment and back against it. The decision to come back to his place was fueled by a lot of alcohol and the way he looked at you. You were desperate to feel something other than the hollow ache that has consumed you every day for months. His eyes told you that he may be able to give you just what you need, no strings attached.

The way he kisses you breathes new life into your mangled soul. He swallows your mouth and your needy moans with his own, and his tongue forces itself down your throat as your teeth clash in a fight for dominance. You’re both tipsy, but he seems to know just what he’s doing.

His calloused fingers burn against your skin. In the back of your mind, Matt is still so present. His hands are the ones you can’t help but compare him to.

The way he used to kiss you before fucking you into the mattress for hours on end, switching between tasting and fingering you until you were whimpering and begging him for release might have screwed you up forever. He told you one night that he wanted to ruin you for any other man. Back then, you both still believed that you would grow old together.

It is truly ironic how fast things change when you are truly happy and believe that nothing can burst your bubble.

Frank’s large hands brace against the door on either side of your head. His lips disappear from yours. “Who is he?” he asks, his voice rough like gravel.

You meet his eyes, unsure of what to say. Your mind is everywhere but here, and yet it is right with him. Whether it is alcohol or self-loathing, you’re not sure.

“What?” you whisper.

“You’re trynna forget someone. Who is it?”

He is a lot more perceptive than you thought.

You swallow, blood rushing to your head. “I’m sorry, I didn’t–” you didn’t what? Think? You feel utterly pathetic.

Instead of throwing you out though, like you expected he would, he reaches out to caress your cheek. His eyes soften as they gaze at you. “Whoever he is, he obviously didn’t treat you right,” he says. “If you want to go, I’m not stoppin’ you, but if you wanna forget whoever is fuckin’ with your head, I’ll make damn sure you forget his name by the end of tonight.”

There is something excitingly terrifying about the look in his eyes. A shiver runs down your spine, and your thighs clench at the thought of feeling his hands somewhere other than your face. Somewhere other than your hips and thighs. His kisses knocked the air out of your lungs. You want more, you need more, but you don’t know if you can take it. Not him—even though you’re also not quite sure if you can take him—but also the offer he is presenting to you. As lucrative as it sounds, fuck, you are not over Matt. And you’re not sure if you can ever forget him.

You want to though. You have to. And you want to be thoroughly fucked into the next day and forget the name of the man that makes you so fucking angry.

“Talk to me,” Frank coaxes your head toward him. “Do you wanna forget the useless bastard that made you feel this way?”

“Yes,” you manage a breathless whisper.

“Did he hurt you? Break your heart?”

You nod.

“You deserve better.” His grip tightens, and his hand slowly slides to your neck. “I’m not, but I’ll fuck you so hard, you’ll forget his name and scream mine loud enough for this fuckin’ city to know who’s making you feel good. ‘s that what you want, hm?”

He’s dangerous, but that has never turned you off, even when it should have.

And when you finally open your mouth and tell him, “Yes, please. Make me forget,” the switch inside of him flicks completely.

He takes his time to worship between your thighs. His tongue buried in your pussy, his lips sucking on your clit without mercy. He eats you out roughly but sensually, keeping you spread wide open for him with both of his hands and a force unmatched—like a five-course meal, and he has all the time in the world for you.

You’re lost in the throes of pleasure. You want to buck your hips against his mouth because no matter what he does, you’re on fire and you just can’t get enough, but he is so powerful that you can’t fight him. He has you at his mercy, your body in his hands, and all the control in the world over you.

You pull at his hair, moaning helplessly as he feasts on your pussy. You’re going mad, you’re sure. He’s doing this on purpose, driving you to the edge before stopping the wave. Frank waits until your orgasm is just far enough for you to last a little longer, kissing the inside of your thighs, and then he dives right back into your wet folds. He thrusts his tongue into your hole, licks up to your clit, and then sucks on the swollen bundle until your legs are shaking in his hands.

“Jesus, Frank!” you moan out. A trail of sweat runs from your temple down to your breasts.

Your hands search for something to hold onto, tangling in the sheets and the pillow behind your head before pulling at the fabric. You tried pulling at his hair, but he wouldn’t let you.

“That’s right,” he growls. “Come for me.”

Your back arches off the mattress. His name leaves your lips in a desperate shout as your orgasm crashes into you.

“Attagirl.”

Your brain is hulled into an endless fog, but Frank doesn’t stop.

Soon, you’re on your stomach, gripping the headboard as he pounds into you from behind. He is long and thick, and with every thrust, he forces your face deeper into the pillows. Your eyes have rolled back into your head. He hits that spongy spot inside of you whenever he pleases, and the gurgled moans from the pit of your throat spur him on to speed up, change the angle and thrust even deeper.

He pulls out all the way, thrusting back into you with full force until he is completely sheathed in your pussy. Your heat consumes him, and he sees red. But so do you. He has reduced you to a few incoherent thoughts, babbling his name in the wake of the drool that is dripping from the corner of your mouth.

And when you come this time, it is pulled back straight against his chest with his fingers rubbing circles over your already abused clit. You come with a scream of his name, and nothing else matters but his cum in your cunt and the unbelievable depth of the feelings he is eliciting within you.

You drop to the mattress like a wet towel, covered in his and your cum, and your sweat that has mingled with his. His smell lingers in the sheets as you bury your nose in it. He collapses on top of you. The crushing weight of him offers a sense of comfort that almost makes you cry. And he holds you as though you mean more to him than a One-Night stand he picked up to help forget a man who broke her heart.

“What’d he do?” Frank asks into the silence later that night.

You are lying on his bed, covered by only his thin sheets. He’s sitting on the other side, nursing a glass of Bourbon. He held you, he cleaned you up, and he offered you some clothes, which you denied. He is kinder to you than you thought he would be, and it warms your heart in a way you can only deem utterly dangerous with how vulnerable you are. Broken people make dumb decisions, and you do not ever want to go through the same pain again.

At least you know that you are still desired. That you’re not dead. Perhaps, there is still hope for a better future. You made Matt Murdock your life for the longest time, and maybe, as you realize now, that was a mistake. There is more to life than him, and you can live without him. That it took fucking a stranger after weeks of being miserable baffles you, but some things are just meant to happen. Maybe it was destiny, after all.

You look at him when Frank repeats his question. “What’d the bastard do, hm?” he asks.

Where do you even start?

When you last checked in on him through your mutual friends—you know it wasn’t the best choice, but you couldn’t help it—they told you that grew his beard, and he last had a haircut when you were still together. It suits him, apparently, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at a picture of him.

Foggy told you that he isn’t taking home girls when they go to a bar, even though he could have all of them. He’s sad. He drowns himself at work and beats his fist bloody every night. The old you would have jumped up to help him. And it is true that you will probably always love him, in a way, but you refuse to crawl back to him.

The more you gave, the more he took, and at the first chance at getting a woman he claimed to no longer love when she came back into your lives, he took her. He couldn’t have wanted you as badly as he claimed if that was enough for him to flush years of loving each other and going through hell together down the drain, knowing it would break your heart into a million pieces. That is probably the worst part about all of it.

You take a deep breath. Frank is still staring at you intently, waiting for an answer. “He fucked his ex,” you finally confess. “Four years of being together and it still wasn’t enough.”

His grip tightens around his glass. “Want me to pay him a visit?”

You chuckle, but you know that he would. “No. But thank you.”

Matt was fading long before you left. Even if you did choose to forgive him, you couldn’t be his friend, so things are better the way they are now. You paid the ultimate price for sacrificing your heart to a man who had too many struggles to deal with himself.

In the silence, you find a little light. “At least I don’t have to pretend to like Jazz anymore,” you say.

Frank takes another sip, asking, “Jazz?”

“Yeah, Jazz. He loves it. He…He’s special. Well, he was to me, anyway.”

“Special? Fuck, the guy did a number on you, huh?”

You scoff. “You have no idea.”

The only way back to your dignity is to learn how to be without him. You have to turn yourself back into a mystery and learn how to trust someone again before your fragile heart breaks again.

“You still talk?” Frank asks.

You shake your head. “No. It’s over now,” you say. “We don’t talk anymore.”

“Told ya. You deserve better.”

“Nah.” You reach for his glass, taking a sip of the bitter liquor that you used to despise. Looking up at him through hooded eyes, you stretch his leg toward him.

You need to keep forgetting Matt’s name, no matter what it takes or the reminiscing will surely kill you.

“Right now,” you murmur with an irresistible smirk that makes him leap at you as soon as the words pass your lips, “I just need to forget he ever existed by screaming someone else’s name.”

Frank captures your lips in a bruising kiss, leaving you speechless and breathless all the same.

Matt chased you, he caught you, and then he lost you. And now that Frank has you, you never want to look back.

Now that you don't talk.

I don't have a tag list for Frank, so I'm just leaving this here.

#frank castle x reader #frank castle x female reader #frank castle smut #frank castle #the punisher #matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock angst #matt murdock x f!reader #matt murdock x you #frank castle x you #daredevil #charlie cox #from the vault #bonus fic #inspired by: now that we don't talk

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konfeitos · 4 months ago

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IN HALF BROKEN JAPANESE.ㅤ⸺͏͏ㅤHAWKS X GN! READER

❛ ⠀♡ . ˑ⠀featuring : takami keigo aka hawks ╱ gender neutral reader

❛❛ ⠀In half broken Japanese, I wrote to you 愛してる oh 愛してる ... ⠀❜❜ ⠀or ⠀a partial canon divergency of post-final war arc, you reunite with your lover !

❛ ⠀♡ . ˑ⠀notes : dedicated to @falryllghts / @brunette-sketches ! gender-neutral reader. reader isn't from japan and is learning japanese; they're a foreign hero that has volunteered to help with the restoration efforts. established relationship. be gentle with me and my interpretation of hawks. it has been a while since I've written for him. minor spoilers for chapters 424 & 426. not proofread. WC — 2.1k.

A week passed.

Despite the lack of villainous activity, both minor and significant, people still wait with bated breath for any horrid news to drop each morning. It’s difficult for Japan’s citizens to trust the calm that has finally arrived from the end of the war.

All you can do is hope that your presence, along with the other foreign heroes that have volunteered to be here, can help their nerves.

The second that news spread that Japan was entering a restoration phase after the war had ended, you jumped at the chance to offer your support. A hasty decision that you probably shouldn’t have made considering you had an entire agency to run, but you had full trust in your staff and sidekicks to hold down the fort without you there.

Honestly, you can’t even recall how long you rattled off to your poor secretary on how long you’d be away to come out and help.

That’s definitely something you should be spending your break on to properly discuss with your agency on when you’ll be returning.

But instead, you started wandering off from the district you were assigned to, flashing polite, albeit awkward, smiles at any heroes you made eye contact with and hoping none of them tried to initiate a conversation. Even with the micro-translator devices that everyone was provided with—which were built by that one support course student from Japan’s number one hero academy—you still hesitated to converse with them unless it was absolutely necessary.

There was a chance that you could’ve been given the one faulty translator.

And what if you only found out once someone tried to talk to you?

What if it malfunctioned and was set to translate to a different language other than your native tongue?

What if—

Your eyes immediately land on Keigo once you step foot into the district he’s overseeing, cutting your thoughts short.

Finding him in a crowd of people has never been a challenge for you. Your gaze never fails to gravitate towards where he stands like he’s a beacon that calls out solely to you.

From a single glance, Keigo looks as carefree as he normally does as he watches everyone.

However, in your eyes, you can easily piece together from his stance that he’s more lost in thought than he probably thinks he is. And the more you inch closer to where he’s perched, the more you can confirm your suspicions.

You note the tension in his stance as he’s somewhat hunched over like he’s actively thinking about the loss of weight on his back. (Which he probably is. His sense of balance has been a recent struggle from what he has told you before you arrived in Japan. He has shared some instances of losing his balance here and there. These stories have always been accompanied by his laughter while you would just sit there and think how you’d help him steady himself whenever he felt off balance.)

The wind starts to pick up a bit; it’s a gentle breeze that’s enough to make you aware of its presence and stir memories in Keigo’s mind judging from the way his gaze grows distant.

His hair, now tousled by the wind, dances around his face.

If you focus solely on his face, this would seem like one of the many pictures you’ve seen captured of him in the middle of flying that would appear on your timelines.

You wonder if to Keigo whether this serves more like a stark reminder of the freedom he once took for granted.

Keigo’s body instinctively shifts forwards almost as if trying to follow after the direction the wind blows in from where he is to the best of his ability. There’s the faintest hint of a bittersweet smile that rises to his lips as he glances up at the sky that remains just out of reach.

As much as you enjoy staring at your lover, you feel like it’s best to make yourself known than continue staring and getting caught.

The unfocused state of his gaze clears up at the sound of you clearing your throat. Just as quick as his former flying speed, his eyes shift over to you. In an instant, his pupils dilate at the mere sight of you and warmth blossoms from his stare.

One of his hands reaches up to tap the micro-translator device in his ear, presumably to turn off, and you find yourself mirroring his action. After all, he’s the only one you’re actually able to hold a conversation with due to Keigo’s fluency in your native tongue.

“What brings you over here, sunshine? Miss me?”

No longer does a bittersweet smile rest on his face. A wider, affectionate grin replaces it with ease while he steps away from his post to approach you.

Your immediate thought is to deny it.

Except you know very well how that interaction would play out, and being called out by Keigo isn’t entirely something you wish to go through right now.

Yet, admitting to missing him felt a bit too much. Knowing yourself, you may sound more vulnerable than you would like. All your worry and concern may leak out the moment you utter a single word.

Which is also something you don’t wish to go through right now.

Not yet at the very least. Not when you’re both in the middle of helping out with the Restoration Efforts.

The lack of a quick and witty response from you seems to catch his attention since he moves closer. With a gentle nudge to your side, he waits for you to meet his eyes before he nods his head to the side.

“Want to join me in getting a drink?”

He doesn’t actually wait for your answer when he starts to walk off. He’s confident in the fact that you’ll follow him no matter what, and you inwardly curse at the way your legs instantly move to catch up to him.

By the time you stand at his side, he’s sliding in a few yen coins into a vending machine. “What would you like?” Keigo asks, pushing the button for that canned coffee that he enjoys. He’s already sliding more yen coins into the machine before he looks at you.

“Oh,” You blink a couple times and examine the options in the vending machine a bit frantically.

It’s just as you thought.

You can read none of it.

Well, there are some labels you can read, but that doesn’t exactly help you in figuring out what the drinks are exactly.

After what feels like an eternity to you, you finally sputter out a sheepish, “Uhm, water’s fine.”

There’s no way you were going to spend anymore time staring at this machine like it would magically translate itself for you. You’re sure that even if you could read the labels that you would still be fighting against your indecisiveness to make a decision.

“Alright.”

Despite his acknowledgement to your answer, Keigo pushes at a button for a different drink. Your mouth drops partly open before you lightly smack his arm when he bends down to collect both drinks.

“What—hey! I said that water's fine. You didn’t have to get me something else.”

“I know,” Keigo offers nothing more than a smile and shrug, “But I can tell you’ve been working hard today, and you should hydrate with more than just water. Besides, I think you’ll like this.” He holds up the drink, shaking it lightly to draw your attention towards it. “It tastes the same as that brand you like back at your home.”

Your heart squeezes tightly at his words.

Maybe it’s the fact that he sees past your act of being fine and not tired from how long you’ve been helping out in the district you were assigned to. Or that he remembers something as mundane as the type of drink and flavor you like and offers you something similar so you can have a sense of a familiarity while you’re out in a whole other country.

Either way, you’re a mess.

So much of a mess that your thoughts are circling around one singular thing.

You truly, truly love Keigo.

Maybe you love him a bit too much. You’re starting to think so because you find yourself compelled to do one thing and that’s to blurt it out right then and there.

And not just in your language… but in his.

Your Japanese reading skills may be lower than beginner level, but you have been practicing speaking it. Especially a couple, certain phrases.

What’s the worst thing that can happen? He laughs at you?

Thinking about it, Keigo would laugh regardless. That idiot, you think affectionately, is always laughing around you. A habit of his that you’ve never understood. (Often you’d catch him with the corner of his eyes crinkling whenever he stares at you and starts to laugh. His sudden bursts of laughter is something he never explains but promises mean nothing bad.)

A gentle tapping against your forehead draws you away from your thoughts. You huff lightly and reach up to swat his hand away, ignoring how his chuckle makes your stomach twist into itself.

“I can see you overworking that pretty little head of yours. What’s on your mind? You can tell me, it’s just me.” Keigo says that so casually like he isn’t the most precious person in your life.

Like you don’t stay up late when you’re in your respective home country simply to receive his texts or be on video call with him. Like you didn’t just jump at the chance to head straight to Japan after hearing the news solely because one of your biggest concerns was how he was out on the battlefield during the war.

You know yourself.

If you don’t say it now then there’s no chance you’ll muster up the courage to say it later.

Locking eyes with Keigo, you take a deep breath and utter out a shaky, “愛してる¹.”

The silence that follows afterwards feeds the anxious thoughts growing in your head.

Was your half broken Japanese that bad that he didn’t understand it? Or maybe he did and it was way too soon to even think about telling him that. Oh god, maybe you should have practiced more to ensure that you would have nailed the pronunciation.

“Woah,” Keigo breaks the silence, yet it hardly does a thing to calm your nerves. You spill out an ‘I love you,’ and all he does is go, ‘woah,’ and nothing else.

Before you can take back your words, he continues.

“When did you have the time to practice Japanese? I thought you were too busy worrying and fussing over me lately.”

This was a mistake.

“Forget I said anything!” Turning your head away, you can feel your cheeks growing warmer by the second. Your drink suddenly looks far more interesting than anything else around you.

Except Keigo would never let you take your eyes off him.

It doesn’t take him long to start leaning against your side. “Say it again!”

“Absolutely not.”

“Why not?”

“I didn’t actually mean it.” Your words elicit a boisterous laugh from him, which only causes your cheeks to flush even more.

A moment passes before he’s calming down and a more gentle looking grin settles on his face. “I think I’m going on vacation after all this.” Keigo states out of nowhere that you pause for a moment.

Huh? Where did that come from?

Catching onto your confusion, Keigo chuckles. “I was offered to take over as the president for the HPSC.” Hearing that has you widen your eyes a bit as you vaguely recall what you did know about Japan’s HPSC. He doesn’t let you dwell too long on these thoughts with his next words. “I’m turning the offer down. That kind of responsibility just isn’t for me.”

However, Keigo doesn’t stop talking there.

“What would you say your hometown is like during this season?”

It truly should be illegal how easily he can turn your thoughts to revolve around him and the things he says. Because now you can only think about him (which is nothing new) and at your place!

“It’s… It’s nice. Uh, yeah, you should totally come visit. If you want. I might know a place for you to stay for as long as you’re there.”

“Really now?”

Oh, you need to wipe away that look from Keigo’s face now before you explode.

“Or maybe you can go sleep outside for all I care.” You spat out of embarrassment, ignoring the way he breaks out into laughter yet again.

A sound you’ve heard plenty of times but never gets old to you.

“Keigo.”

“Hmm?”

“... 心を愛してる².”

“I love you too.”

愛してる ¹ — I love you 心を愛してる ² — I love your heart

#— ✦ ˙ 𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓁𝓁𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝓈 .ᐟ #bnha x reader #mha x reader #hawks x reader #keigo takami x reader #hawks x gender neutral reader #bnha x gender neutral reader #bnha x gn!reader #mha x gender neutral reader #mha x gn!reader #boku no hero academia x reader #my hero academia x reader

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justkending · 6 months ago

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Mr. & Mrs. Hunt (Chapter 4/7)

Mini-Series Summary: Two of the most stubborn people in the group partnered together for an undercover mission are also the two people with the most hatred for each other, so what could go wrong? Or is it, what COULDN’T go wrong?…

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger Reader

Word Count: 3900+

A/N Note: Only a few more chapters to go (I think, but we're both lost on how long this series will be.) Thank you guys for reading and as always, thank you for the love and support!

____________

Chapter 4:

Y/N's POV

It wasn’t him. It was 100% me. I did this to myself. I built a wall so quickly around him because I didn’t want to like the man behind my misery.

My teammates knew enough about my backstory to think they had an idea of my reason for joining SHIELD: helping the little guy because, at one point, you were the little guy—the manipulated guy—the one who no one saved, so you had to save yourself—and now anyone else who can’t do it for themselves.

Yet, there were so many other things I kept for myself, and things files couldn’t tell you. No files existed of them, and I’m glad because I didn’t want the pity.

James Buchanan Barnes was the reason behind my abuse. Not personally, but my abuser was obsessed with his accomplishments under the German and Russian terrorist organizations and wanted to make a female, more skilled, discrete, and sleeker version of the Winter Soldier.

Who fucking didn’t, right? God, every goddamn evil bastard on this godforsaken shit show of a planet wants to remake something that was a once in a lifetime kind of thing and crack more than a few eggs to get to that point. Selfish asshole…

Being constantly compared to him and then beaten for not hitting the unreachable mark of the man I was ‘of no comparison to’ after years of trying to hit that standard, and then being asked to be on a team with him? A lot of emotions hit me like a train when I got that news.

Will I amount to being the trained spy and agent I am for Shield with him by my side? Will he make me look like a completely pointless addition to the team? After five years of already working with the Avengers and then learning who the Winter Solider was? Steve’s best friend and probably the only person he could relate to in their journey? All the way to having to work with him… The change-up was instantaneous, where I would have begged for baby steps.

Then again, when has the world made it easy for me?

So yes. I was an ass and kept him further than arm's length away to stay safe from learning that he was a good guy when I wasn’t ready to like him yet. I had a lot of trauma I never thought I’d have to work through with the infamous man himself, and that irritation and annoyance just continued when he finally matched my energy, and we never strayed from that relationship until… now.

And here he was, genuinely asking what HE did wrong when I was the reason for our enemies’ plot line.

“Bucky, I don’t think I can talk about this right now,” I breathed out slowly, feeling the tears prick in my eyes.

It had been a minute since I cried and felt this vulnerable, and I couldn’t seem to stop it. I think subconsciously, I didn’t want to stop it, but my mind was begging my body to hold out until he was out of the room.

“Y/N, if I did something to you, I didn’t realize-”

“You wouldn’t have known,” I whisper, not trusting my voice to stay steady, but also not wanting to put anymore of the blame on him from here on out.

He wasn’t a bad guy.

He had proved himself time and time again to be a really good guy. Even when he broke and decided he hated me back, he still had his moments when he put it aside and showed chivalry. I admired him for it even when I ignored the admiration.

Makes it hard to fully hate a guy who made sure ladies weren’t opening any doors for themselves. Or a man who remembered Morgan’s birthday and bought her an ice cream cake before stealing Steve’s shield to sled down a hill her dad told her not to. Or a man you treat like absolute shit 99% of the time, and he still checks on you when you have nightmares, and he grabs water and an ice pack and helps you even out your breathing before waiting for you to go back to sleep.

I didn’t ask him for the help, and he never mentioned the handful of times he fell into the routine of soothing me back to sleep. Never brought it up, never made me feel like I owed him, and never hinted at remembering such kindness.

But now?

“You wouldn’t have known why it started this way to begin with. And you likely won’t,” I sigh, breathing in through my nose and out through my mouth before turning around; a lot more put together, even if it was just a mask I had learned to put on most of my life.

“I don’t understand,” Bucky furrowed his eyebrows at my disposition.

“I don’t expect you to, but maybe we should go to sleep and talk about it later. It’s getting late, and you have to go to your ‘job’ tomorrow,” I say with hand quotes. “We have to keep the ruse going.”

“A few hours of sleep doesn’t affect me,” Bucky shook his head, and I could see him itching to put his hands back on me, but he held back. “Please. I need to know what the hell I did.”

“Again, Bucky,” I say sternly this time, all emotion I’m struggling to keep at bay shoved down. “You are not at fault, and tomorrow I’ll talk to you, but for now, I need to sleep on it.”

He read my face for lies, and I kept it neutral. I wasn’t going to break here. Now was not the time. I needed space to think about how I was going to approach this after so long of avoiding it and being put on the spot wasn’t going to work for me.

“Ok,” he said, softer than I think I ever heard him talk. His eyes were soft and sensitive, and I didn’t know how I felt about it…

He turned and walked out of my room, gently shutting the door behind him and turning off the overhead light he had originally flashed on.

I didn’t instantly head straight to bed. I stared at the doorway in the dark, seeing the faint silhouette of the barrier between us. He was still on the other side, and I could hear his heart rate higher than normal.

This was affecting him more than I thought it would. Why was he so worried about what I thought of him? He didn’t seem bothered by my disinterest in the past. Or at least I didn’t figure he did.

____________________

When I woke up, Bucky was already gone. His truck, normally in the driveway, was missing, and I knew he had taken off for our mission report.

Thankful, I took the time to make my coffee, sit on the front porch, and watch the neighborhood take on its morning routine.

People were on runs with their family dogs, moms were doing their morning walks with strollers, some neighbors were out already tending to their gardens, and everything suburban seemed to be on track.

Towards the end of my cup, I notice Ms. Bauer coming back from her jog she must have taken earlier than the others.

“Oh, hello, neighbor!” she shouted when she spotted me, uniformly checking our house like her head was on a swivel if she heard a pen drop in it.

Still in her jog, she sashayed over to my lawn, and I mumbled, “Here we go,” smiling at her as she followed the sidewalk to our steps.

“How are you doing today, Bethanne?” I grin standing from my patio chair and going down the steps to meet her at the bottom of the flight. “Is there a run club I didn’t know about? You’re the 10th person I’ve seen getting a head start on their steps for the day.”

She laughed and waved a hand at me before taking an earbud out, pausing her music on her watch, and placing her hands on her hips as she looked up at me.

“There is actually a mommy and me walking club on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Depending on the weather, of course, but who knows,” she grinned up at me. “Maybe you can be joining it sooner than you thought.”

“Maybe not as soon as you think,” I laughed, holding my mug tighter with both hands so I wouldn’t strangle her instead and leaning on the banister. “We wanted at least a year in the house by ourselves before we add another set of feet to the chaos,” I scrunch my nose and add, “but I’m excited for the day Beau and I have a mini-version of us running around here.”

“Speaking of Beau,” she grins, looking to the driveway. “Where is he today? He’s usually home with you most of the time, right?”

“Oh, it was time for him to get back to work. He took off for a few weeks to get moved in and spend time with me before we had to get back to the real world,” I answer as planned.

“That’s right. I think I remember you guys talking about that at the first block party,” she nodded, watching me carefully for slip-ups. “Can you believe it’s only been two weeks of you guys here? I feel like you two have been a part of the community for at least a year.”

“You’re sweet,” I gush convincingly and look out to the neighborhood for effect. “You guys have really taken us in as your family, and you don’t know how much I appreciate it. We appreciate it,” I correct and look off in the distance like I’m thinking of my sweet, doting husband when, in reality, I was thinking of the day this mission was over and I could carry on with my normal life. “I don’t think I’ve mentioned this. Beau isn’t one to really talk about it, but his family life wasn’t the best. They’ve practically been strangers since he turned 18.”

“Oh, is that so?” she inched up, feeding on the new (fake) information.

I nod. “When we started dating, my family took him in as his own- well, I only had my dad around for most of my life, but they got along really well. He passed three years ago,” I give a tight-lipped look as I look down at my feet in sadness. “They developed a bond, which wasn’t hard considering who my dad was. He was the best, though we might be biased in thinking that. Taught Beau how to do a lot of things dads are supposed to teach their sons. Well,” I sniffle for added effect. “Anyway, we’re kinda on our own now. No extended family we’re close with, and with my dad’s passing, it’s really just us. So when I say we’re grateful for y’all’s hospitality, I mean it.”

She seemed to buy it, as much as an undercover convict could, and smiled kindly up at me before placing a hand on my arm.

“Of course, sweetheart. We’re just lucky you two are some of the good ones. You’d be surprised who’s come in and hasn’t made the cut. Lawns in disarray, unfriendly attitudes, and you know the list,” she winks and rolls her shoulders back before stretching in her spot. “Speaking of being lovely neighbors, how would you and Beau feel about a dinner at our house? Reggie and I have been talking about having you over for quite some time now, and I think we can finally host.” Before I could ask, she stopped me and explained. “Kitchen renovation. It was and still is a pain in my ass, but it should be doable for a small dinner.”

“That sounds lovely,” I beam as much as I could act. It was the perfect next step, and the bait had been taken, but a part of me wanted to settle things with Bucky in our personal dispute before we put on our masks for the two main perpetrators. “Let me check with him and see what his schedule will look like now. He’s getting some new orders today, and some things are changing in the company. We’ll know more tonight. But we will for sure make it work.”

___________

After Bethanne told me some useless neighborhood gossip, she excused herself, and I went back inside to get ready for the day and consider how I would approach Bucky on our issue.

I knew it was time to be truthful, even if I dreaded it. Bucky had proven time and time again that he wasn’t the enemy, and I needed to deal with my issues. I was tired of wasting energy on hatred and anger, and these last two weeks proved that Bucky wasn’t the one who should have been receiving the blunt force end of my trauma.

I had until four in the evening to come up with an idea of how I wanted to go about it, but I had stress cleaned instead and couldn’t come up with a non-terrifying way to approach this life-changing conversation.

Finally, I found it best we get dinner in the town over (as not to have any peaking eyes or eavesdropping ears as we dive into my life story I hadn’t indulged to near anyone before), and I would talk to Bucky there. However, plans changed when Bucky came home.

From my spot in the kitchen, I heard him shout in his domesticated voice across the street, “No, that sounds perfect! We’d love to!” The door opened just as he finished his sentence, and his voice became clearer.

I moved around the island and slowly walked toward the door to get a view of who he was talking to, and I noticed Bethanne at her mailbox waving to Bucky.

I furrowed my eyebrows at the obvious commitment he put us in, and after he waved back, he shut the door behind him, looking at me, and dropped the act quickly.

“What did you just agree to?” I asked, nodding my head behind him.

He looked me up and down, and I almost forgot I had picked a new, semi-fancier sundress for our “surprise anniversary dinner” (at least the front I was trying to put on for getting out of town without too much suspicion).

(Make whatever color you please or change it in your mind if you want! I'm choosing to pick it as a darker red.)

“You look nice,” he says as his eyes trail back up to my own, and I swear I see him take a gulp.

“What did you agree to?” I asked again, focused more on what he had decided for us regarding Bethanne.

His previous shocked face faded away, and he rolled his eyes slightly before throwing his work bag to the side.

“Bethanne invited us to dinner. I said yes because we need to build a relationship with them,” he replied stoically, as if my question was dumb and pointless.

I just stared at him and let my “personal vendetta” look rest on my face. He studied me and had the decency to shrink ever so slightly.

“What?”

“What happened to discussing things first?” I said in an eerily calm voice.

“I didn’t think accepting dinner at a home we’ve been trying to get inside of for the last two weeks is something we’d have to discuss.” And now he straightens up, throwing his empty arms to the side.

A few seconds later, I yelled, “You dipshit!” in a muffled grunt, keeping my voice down as much as I could handle and balling my fists in anger.

His eyebrows shoot up and he huffs with his chest puffed out as he marches to me. I see the intent in his eyes, and I start walking away towards the opposite room closest, needing a minute not to lose my shit, and if I have to look into his stupid azure eyes like he wants to read everything passing through my mind, I’ll break.

“Don’t walk away from me,” he growls, and I shoot him a look over my shoulder as I shift my pace and head down the hallway to the bedrooms. “Y/N, stop being a stubborn ass and-”

“Unless you want a heel thrown at your head, and you’re welcome for being civil about this, I suggest you leave me alone,” I shout behind me, turn sharply to the left, and go to my room.

“I don’t even know what THIS is! You looked at me like you wanted to kill me when I walked in, and I haven’t even talked to you today besides updates about work,” he said just as I slammed the door in his face. “Oh, real mature. Shut the door like an adolescent. Wait, I forgot. You are one…” He mumbles the last part and I hear him lean on the door.

Instantly, I whip the door open, and he doesn’t have time to predict his next move. He falls flat on his back on the wood floors of my room, only padded by a thin oriental rug I made Tony buy me.

He’s winded from the fall and clutches his chest as I bend down next to him and say, “I said. Leave. Me. The. Fuck. Alone.” I stare at him for a second, solidifying my threat. I stand to walk out and only give him a glance as I pass the doorway.

_____________

Bucky’s POV:

I left her the fuck alone.

I may have been royally pissed (that is a blatant ass understatement), but something about the look in Y/N’s eyes told me not to push unless I wanted to wake up with my head no longer attached to my body.

I was too scared to leave her room in fear I’d run into her when she wasn’t ready and risk taking the chances of the guillotine earlier, so I sat on her bed and tried to rack my brain to where I slipped up to cause whatever the hell I walked in to…

I knew almost instantly and realized what a stupid, simple mistake it was. Bethanne asking me to dinner set her off, I knew. But her comment about talking with each other before making decisions told me my mistake.

Something happened I didn’t know of, and I may have just fucked whatever it was up. As for what it is? No goddamn clue. But using context clues and just basic reading of the body language, Y/N had already made a plan, and I threw it out the window, likely.

I heard footsteps before I could think further, and Y/N appeared in the doorway, taking a deep breath. She would have convinced me she was going to be civil if it wasn’t for her history, but I was excited to see which lane she chose.

“One thing before I bite my tongue,” she says in almost a whisper, like she’s trying to keep her frustrations at bay. “You make me want to shave my head like Britney Spears in 2007 75% of the time. This moment was almost a tipping point for that kind of outcome..” She lets out a long breath like she passed the test of keeping it together.

Surprisingly a lot more tame than I was expecting.

“Glad you got that out of your system. Now, please tell me what the hell happened?” I asked, keeping my guard up in case she resorted to her typical insults and fury.

“Oh, now you want to communicate,” she mocks and walks to the bed, harshly sitting next to me but leaving a copious amount of space between us.

I let it slide because I know she’s fighting bigger demons, like the urge to insult me, until I personally dig my own grave and say goodbye to my cruel reality.

“Bethanne was goading us,” she answers, thankfully getting right to the point. “Something about her proposition seemed off, and I wanted to clear some things up with you before we jumped on the offer.”

I nodded my head, seeing that my instantaneous reply wasn’t thought out. That was on me, yes, but she also reacted extremely dramatically, expressing an odd feeling about the interaction instead of hard proof.

“What did she ask, and what was off about it?” I question, trying to stay mission based because something seemed off still.

“It wasn’t what it was but how she was asking. Something in her tone and the way she was looking at our house and me. Like she was trying to take in detail after detail up close. Checking for cracks in the foundation,” she answers and turns to me just slightly. “She also said her kitchen was under renovation, and something felt off about it.”

“The vibes about our neighbor getting a kitchen renovation made you knock the wind out of me when you opened your door?” I said before I could think, but I didn’t budge, my furrowed eyebrows aimed at her.

She matches my glare and turns her body fully to me.

“It seemed like an excuse,” she answers slowly.

“To what? Host a dinner? That’s kind of the opposite effect. Who would want to host a dinner when you have kitchen renovations? It means they trust us if they’re willing to let us see a house that’s not perfect like the front they put on.”

‘That’s what you get from it, but I think they just planted a little seed of their own.”

“What do you even mean?”

“Kitchen Reno? That’s an excuse to say, ‘Oh, Charlotte, I can’t cook the chicken pot pie I was going to make for you two because our new oven hasn’t been delivered and installed yet. You know? Because we have the kitchen under renovation? I completely forgot,’” She acted in a convincing Bethanne impersonation and then quickly turned back to serious.

“You got that from a kitchen reno comment?” I deadpanned after a minute.

“I got that from understanding women masterminds who know how to manipulate a situation. I am that woman, so I think I can read them pretty well,” she says confidently back.

Touché.

“And what if you’re wrong?” Her bitchface grew at my question.

“First off, I’m not. Second off, even if I was wrong, we are supposed to consult each other about accepting invitations into the house of our suspect enemies,” she ran a hand through her hair, which I notice now looks styled differently. Did she curl it or have it blown out? And yes, I know what a blowout is. I have women friends and coworkers.

Yeah… I was in the wrong here, and that’s on me. I wasn’t thinking. I also had a long day snooping around for more information about this whole operation, but it isn’t necessarily an excuse… It’s not like I haven’t worked on a case like this in the past. I mean, minus being fictitiously married to a coworker.

“I’m sorry,” I say, and she gives me a weird look. “What?”

“I wasn’t expecting an apology,” she says, standing slowly and straightening her dress.

“I know when to accept I made a mistake,” I shrug and stand as well.

She studies my face like there's a retort that’s going to follow, but I just stare at her silently, communicating that I’m set on my apology.

“Ok…” she drags out, watching me as she steps toward the door. “Well, I guess we need to get ready for tonight. Considering we have dinner. With our neighbors. And we need to set up bugs if possible.”

“Guess so,” I nod, crossing my arms.

She stops suddenly and looks at me with a look of realization. “You’re in my room.” She steps to the side, leaving room for me to leave, and avoids eye contact.

She’s still acting weird, but I need to change and get my head in the game for tonight, so I walk out with a subtle head nod as I leave.

Marvel Tags:

@thejourneyneverendsx @death-unbecomes-you @mythos-writes @srrymydood @xa-dia @redhairedfeistynerd @morganclaire4 @connie326 @captain-asguard @mollygetssherlockcoffee @teenagedreams-bucky @shower-me-with-roses @livstilinski @basicallylool @starryeyeseunbyul

My Lovelies Forever:

@natura1phenomenon @lauravicente @kakakatey @traceyaudette @notyourtypicalrose @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @sandlee44 @thorne93 @thefaithfulwriter1 @essie1876 @greyeyedsmile14 @capsiclehan @xostephanie @averyrogers83 @awesomenursingstudent @gh0stgurl @cs-please @jjlevin @rainbowkisses31 @deannotmoose @their-bibliophile @kitkatd7 @willowbleedsonpaper @mariaenchanted @snffbeebee @couldabeenamermaid @rebekahdawkins @alyispunk @billyseye @hallecarey1

Bucky Barnes Tags:

@chloe-skywalker @charmedbysarge @jbarness @bellamy-barnes @katiaw2 @aikeia @stopjustlovethemcu @enchantedbarnes

Mr. & Mrs. Hunt Series:

@jackiehollanderr @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @theroyalmanatee @wintrsoldrluvr @alexakeyloveloki @learisa @bxckybxrnes24 @lillianacristina @selella @heletsmelovehim

#bucky barnes x avenger reader insert #bucky barnes x reader insert #bucky barnes mini series #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x avenger reader #justkending #marvel #marvel mini series #bucky barnes #Bucky Barnes

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pinkmirth · 1 year ago

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(arranged marriage with reiner!! you’re expecting some cruel man and he’s just nothing of the sort and he takes his time getting to know you and falling for you before the idea of sex; and boyyyy the sex… first man to ever make you come)

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ARRANGED, reiner braun !

omg mona! hubby reiner is everything to me— especially since i’ve been meaning to write something like this for a while >< after the marriage (which you begrudgingly went through with,) you think you’re gonna hate him; that he’ll be heartless and demanding. what i love most about this is that reiner easily proves you wrong! contrary to your former assumptions, your new husband is kind. makes you proud of being ‘missus braun.’ he’s compassionate and dedicated to you and the future family you’ll make (assuming that you’re together for the sake of an heir!) speaking of an heir . . . it isn’t long before you’re expected to have his babies.

before any talk of kids, he’d spent the first few months of your marriage trying to be a good husband— a man you can rely on, someone you can tell your deepest secrets to and laugh with. from the moment your relationship became legally bound, he’s been trying his best to not only see you as a wife, but as his closest friend. once that bond is made, once you’ve built trust, he deems you ready for him. and god, is he the gentlest man on earth. his large calloused hands are capable of the softest strokes. and he never thought you’d be so eager to feel him in this way. deep down in his heart, reiner believes you’re made for him. on the night of his first attempt at impregnating you (the thought of which excites him more than it should), he makes sure to fuck you good— hard but slow, the exact way you instructed him to. he needs you to enjoy this just as much as him. with thorough thrusts and pressured rubs to your clit, five minutes was all he needed to get you undone. you think you’ve finally fallen in love— both for him and that thick cock of his. reiner’s the only man capable enough to make you feel this good, he turns out to be the best you’ve ever had.

when you’ve both had your fill, satiated after three lengthy hours of love-making, he stays. nobody else has. hell, he even goes as far as to wiping you down and tucking you in, slipping underneath the sheets beside you. strong arms encircle your waist and pull you into the firmness of his chest. his skin’s warm, so you press a kiss to it. initially, this relationship was never of your own will. you’d even threatened to run away and leave him at the goddamn altar. but now? you can’t even fathom missing up on a man as rare as reiner braun.

#ARRANGED MARRIAGE GONE RIGHT IS MY FAVORITE THING IN THE WHOLE WIDE WORLD #i love it i love it i love it #i’m even working on something similar to this right now! (ofc it’s with reiner 🤭)#thanks so much for dropping by! mwuah 💋#୨୧ — inbox!#— (moots!)#— (ramona!)#୨୧ — mira writes!#❥ — reiner!#— (drabbles!)#— (reiner drabbles!)#reiner braun #reiner smut #reiner aot #reiner x reader #reiner x black reader #reiner braun smut #౨ৎ — 𝓂𝓎 𝓁ℴ𝓋ℯ 𝓈𝓉ℴ𝓇𝒾ℯ𝓈!

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caramel-maveeato · 1 year ago

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ᴋɪꜱꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴀᴋᴇᴜᴘ ♡˚₊。。。

❧❤ SYNOPSIS: something felt very unsettled with you today, and it shattered So Mun just from thinking of the possibilities… ♡ Pairings/Love interest: So Mun x Fem!reader ♡ Genre: angst, hurt/comfort, angst to fluff, happy ending ♡ TW: suggestive, mentions of cheating, cursing, detailed kissing descriptions, crying, sexual tension but no you two aint gon do the deed, post-ss2 ♡ Word count: 5.1k

Note: All characters originated from “The Uncanny Counter/Amazing Rumor” except for Y/n. (Sorry mom and dad because instead of paying attention during lectures, I wrote this lil silly fic about a man who doesn’t even exist)

English is not my first language!!! Sorry in advance if I make any grammar and vocabulary mistakes.

Apart from all the evils hunting, So Mun couldn’t recall the last time he had been this anxious.

Normally, he never held anything against you hanging out with your guy friends. He knew you also have your personal space and it wasn’t necessarily like your entire world needed to revolve around him.

So Mun trusts you with his own life, he really does. He never once doubted your love for him. But today, something was horribly off.

“Isn’t that Gwan Daehyun from my class?”

Juyeon habitually pushed her glasses up, vocalizing her thoughts to the friend group. Both Woongmin and So Mun raised their heads at the comment, turning toward the large window.

“Gwan Daehyun,” or whoever, was a tall and slender-built young man about his age—he presumed. Judging from his figure and his dashing fashion sense, anyone would instantly conclude he was a big catch. But that wasn’t what caught So Mun’s attention the most.

The man passed by the glass window. Next to him was you, linking arms with him and smiling so cheerfully.

Even though So Mun wouldn’t admit that something has unpleasantly risen up deep inside his heart upon seeing you being so close to another guy, you were always acting so intimate with him in your relationship, so it was understandable that physical affection was rather a normal way of communicating with you.

He heard Woongmin’s voice chimming in next to his ear, snapping him out of the trance: “Is that… I’m seeing Y/n, right? Are they friends?”

“What kind of question is that? If not friends then what are they?” Juyeon cut him off, carefully stealing a glance at So Mun to see if he had any reaction.

“It was just common sense to ask!”

“Uh-huh, common sense.”

“Hey, what’s with that tone–”

“Guys, we’re in the middle of a cafe, enough with your lover’s quarrel.” A faint smile flashed across So Mun’s face as he tapped his pencil down on the table, trying to get his friends’ attention. He didn’t really care how many friends you have, but seeing such joy radiating from you, he couldn’t help but be curious to know about the man’s identity: “Gwan Daehyun is your classmate?”

Juyeon responded nonchalantly: “In chemistry, but we almost never talked. How did Y/n and he even know each other?”

The typical “I don’t know” hasn’t even slipped out of his mouth, Woongmin was quick to toss him another question: “She didn’t tell you about this?”

So Mun wasn’t quite certain “this” referred to you telling him about the guy specifically or about this entire thing, but he chose to say what felt the most natural: “About hanging out with a friend today? She did.”

His two best friends nodded at the same time, exchanging a subtle look at each other which So Mun was completely unaware of. His concentration was taped on you the entire time, following you as your silhouette slowly melted into the distance. He returned to his sketchbook, throwing all running thoughts behind his head for now.

This was when it should’ve stopped bothering him. Or he would say, it didn’t actually bother him in the first place.

Not until he saw what was on your neck.

At first glance, he confidently supposed it was a mosquito bite. But again, he knew what a mosquito bite looked like, and he even knew better what a hickey looked like on your skin.

On the side of your neck laid a small, reddish stain. As much as he tried to deny the truth flattening in front of him and convinced himself that it was a love bite he'd forgotten he left on you, So Mun knew damn well all the places on your body that he had been marking on, and none of them displayed in such a conspicuous spot.

Or maybe you just carelessly bumped into something and bruised yourself, or maybe you got burned while using a hair straightener… Yeah, that was probably the reason. He knew you loved him, adored him, even. So why would you ever do such an awful thing behind his back?

“Hey, Y/n.”

You blinked, catching him staring at you from the opposite side of the table with a soft smile: “Hm?”

“How was your day today, I mean, hanging out with your friend?” He asked to start a conversation, already predicting your reply to be positive since the image of you laughing so happily with another man was still imprinted in his mind.

You smiled in return, acting as casual as possible: “It was pretty nice. We went to get coffee and took pictures and just… you know, the classic friend thing.”

“Yeah….” He nodded, awkwardness flooded his lungs that it was nearly hard to breathe. As much as he wanted to ask you about the bruise, he was afraid of receiving the answer. What if you think he didn’t trust you?

You gulped and looked down, unintentionally exposing your nervousness. In So Mun’s perspective, you were apparently hiding something from him. He aimed at the bruise again, fighting to conceal how his pupils started burning more and more fiercely on your skin the more he studied it. He hated to jump to conclusions so soon and accuse you of committing something you didn’t do. He knew you loved him. He was fucking sure you loved him.

Then why did you have to hide it?

His body ran cold from the way you adjusted your position to excuse yourself, uneasiness enveloped your face when you realized his eyes were fixed on your neck. So Mun watched as his precious placed her elbow down the table with her palm on her cheek, awkwardly building up a cover between his gaze and the love bite that was carved by anyone but him.

Suddenly, So Mun was launched back to today’s morning, into your warm embrace. You clasped him in a goodbye hug before you both parted ways, whispering an “I love you” like you’ve always done in his ear while he tucked himself into your comfort. You did not have that mark on your neck.

And now it happened to be a claret, hickey-like stain engraved on you in such a perfect place for an actual hickey to occur, circumstantially right after he caught you hinging arms with a man he’s never seen or heard you talk about.

Everything crashed. His senses crumpled and his stomach twisted in such a way that he felt physically nauseous.

“What’s that on your neck?”

Words glided out without thinking. There was no point in hesitating anymore, he just needed to listen to your voice confronting him that he had completely misunderstood the situation, that it was only a discoloration you got by accident, that whatever he was assuming was only an illusion coating his mind.

“Oh, it’s nothing.”

Your movement stiffened, not too detectable yet, at the same time, not unnoticeable enough to escape his focused stare. Just this small motion of yours was enough to deliver a slap across his face.

The corners of his lips lifted with no strength, not even sure if it looked convincing to you. He had no clue how to react. It wasn’t like he ever imagined you cheating on him, let alone preparing to face it: “Ah… I see.”

On your side, you weren’t any better. The forced and bitter smile on his face seized your guts, pouring immense shame down your head. God, you regret the whole thing already.

“Baby, do you want some water? I’m kinda thirsty.”

You said, clinging onto the very last piece of your cognition and trying to lighten the mood. The effort went pointless unequivocally as there fell a small pause between you two. So Mun slowly shook his head, silent.

“Okay, I… I’ll be back in just a min.”

Getting up to your feet, you wanted nothing more than to sprint to the kitchen and take two glasses of water, no matter if So Mun already refused it. Maybe after a breather and something to soothe your dry throat, the clotted mood would soften and that’s when you could disclose the truth to him.

Waiting no time for you to take another step, a strong grip tied to your wrist as soon as you stood up, condensed around your skin like cement. You quickly saw darkness towering over your vision as an incredible softness sank onto your lips.

You froze like a deer in headlights, tackled by the submerging desire when a pair of hands snuck around your waist and your mouth was captured securely, almost leaving no room for a muffled gasp to be heard. So Mun’s eyes fastened into yours before he shut them closed, engulfing your lips through the hunger enraging inside himself once your arms had mutually snaked around his neck.

So Mun was the personification of “loving” when it came to you. Regardless of how needy he was during your make-out sessions, he always put you as his priority and ensured not to overwhelm you with his rising passion. But at this specific moment, you were dazed by his sudden blast of enthusiasm, though your bewilderment was quick to dissolve into pure fever when he drew his tongue along your bottom lip just as skillful as the artist he was, fondling your flesh between his teeth before alighting his mouth onto yours again.

Your fingers automatically crimped around his hair, gently tugging his curls in a way you knew he could never get enough of. Your little gesture welcomed a quiet groan from your boyfriend, spawning a tightened grasp on your hips. You didn’t recognize how steamy the kiss had progressed until your back collided with the wall.

The room drowned in your intimate noises. His hand’s location switched from your hip to your chin as he nailed you to the hard surface, angling his digits along your jawline. He feasted on your unorganized breathing, eagerly knocking your lips apart with his own like you were a sumptuous banquet. His sweetness erupted through every smallest gap inside your mouth. Your knees turned wobbly while you gripped onto him to keep your balance, panting and whining for mercy since you were practically devoured for what felt like eternity.

You didn’t mind if So Mun might have misinterpreted your “thirsty” for something else but its literal meaning. He was feeding you full. However, the boiling-hot tension was impotent to replace the previous alarm between you two, now adding to the baffling foreboding you secretly felt.

Colors flowered chaotically through your closed eyelids. No way you could push him away despite your remained oxygen was already sucked dry. As much as you cherished how intoxicating making out with So Mun was, you were beyond relieved when he finally pulled back and showed your strained mouth some pity.

Your heart bolted madly inside your chest, both exhilarated and puzzled due to the unforeseen shift of sensation. Both of you chased after your jumbled breaths. So Mun supported your balance with his fingers dug into your waist and let you lean against the wall, still silent.

A coat of haze smeared over your eyesight after the kiss, you weren’t able to see his face clearly from this angle. But just shortly after, you heard him speak again, barely louder than a mumble: “Love…”

The familiar term of endearment dripped into your ear, carrying a hint of unusual raspiness. So Mun’s voice was as longing as a prayer pleading for his most revered goddess, yet suffocated in boundless desperation and anguish that made your head numb just from hearing it.

“Did I… I definitely did something wrong, didn’t I?”

Time stopped.

Something inside your gut ripped apart, tearing down every single bit that made of you as the eeriness and repentance needled through your bones.

You saw clouds in his reddened eyes. All So Mun needed to do was blink once and the tears would flood down his cheeks uncontrollably.

Your roaring heartbeat echoed in your head at the sight of his dark coffee irises, now a hollow void of fog and aggrivement. Your voice splintered in your throat as So Mun grabbed your hands and swaddled them in his own, his slightly calloused hands trembling against your skin: “What did I do wrong? Please tell me, love… Tell me everything you dislike about me, I promise I will change.”

Knowing how good-at-heart you were as a person, there wouldn’t be a chance of you going around and dating different men. That being said, maybe he was the reason you let go of him.

And there it was. The look on his face looked exactly like that one of betrayal when he discovered the murder of his parents two years ago. The only difference was that he didn’t seem to be upset at you, he was upset at himself for failing you, for even allowing a thought of leaving to cross your mind.

This was a look you would rather let twenty knives riddle through your organs than ever see in your life. And now you were the one who caused it.

You didn’t dare to move. Your veins twinged and screamed and begged for his forgiveness but no sound was brave enough to emerge at the moment. You watched as he pressed his face onto your shoulder, dampening that specific part of your shirt despite his effort to bite back from breaking down.

You stuttered, not yet realizing yourself was on the verge of tears as well: “No, baby, it’s—”

So Mun scanned the purplish hue obscuring itself under your hair and the dim light in the room, resentment swelling behind his chest as he choked back a muffled cry: “Am I not good enough? Is it my personality or the way I look? Did I mess up so badly that… you went for someone else?”

“No! No, it’s not like that. You did nothing wrong!” You hurriedly brushed your fingers over his cheekbones, guiding his face to yours as your vision shielded with unshed mist. His hot tears blurred his own skin, somehow felt dreadfully cold and painful when it hit your touch.

He hesitated, confused and unconvinced: “If not me, then— Why did you…?”

“It was me, love! I was so stupid. I should’ve known…” You hated yourself for coming up with the plan in the first place. Why didn’t you consider the consequences before starting it? That it could hurt him this terribly thinking you broke his faith?

In front of his stunned eyes, the tip of your fingers aggressively rubbed against that so-called “hickey,” each stroke smudging blush powder and eyeshadow all over your digits.

One week ago, 1 p.m., at the crime scene in Eonni’s noodle shop.

“What do you mean you dunno? He never got jealous before?!”

You quietly hissed at Juyeon, whose voice was almost too loud it scared a customer at the next table: “What’s so surprising about it? Does he look like the type to get jealous easily?”

You and the girl were chatting about whatever you could think of to kill time while waiting for So Mun to finish his last minutes of individual training. As luck would have it, you stumbled across the topic of relationships, and it eventually centered on your one and only beloved.

Woongmin looked up from Junhui’s colorful drawings, looking you dead in the eye: “Not gonna lie, he kind of does.”

“Don’t eavesdrop on us, turn away!” The short-haired girl gestured her hand at her boyfriend, making him roll his eyes with sass and unwillingly obey her command. She turned back to you, lowering her voice this time: “It’s not about looks, but I refuse to believe he doesn’t get jealous at all.”

You tilted your head, thoughtlessly stealing a sip of her latte: “Um-hm…”

“Seriously, you were never curious about it?”

You shrugged. You got where Juyeon was coming from. Woongmin’s possessiveness thrived pretty easily to begin with (evidently canon from how sulky he became when she complimented a sketch of your enemy Hwang Pilkwang), and it was always so entertaining to see.

You might’ve or might’ve not wondered what kind of expression your man would show when he got jealous, but well, the idea itself was somehow very fascinating.

The only time you’ve witnessed him show the slightest hint of protectiveness besides the counter-thing was when a customer asked for your phone number—where he would observe your reaction with a sharp glare at the said person, then smirk proudly when you turned the offer down. Still, as two grim reapers, you stuck to each other like glue almost 24/7—ranging from missions and serving to something as simple as eating and walking, not to mention the countless times you have woken up beside each other. Putting it plainly into words, you had no “private life” for jealousy to evolve.

Hearing your explanation (in which you already altered the “grim reaper” part), Juyeon flashed you a hilariously serious look, for some reason very invested in solving your problem: “That makes sense. So do you want me to help you?”

You sighed: “I… think?”

“No worries girl, I got you.” She thoughtfully gave you a wink, opening TikTok on her phone as she scrolled down numerous videos, stopping at one to show you: “I was thinking... this. What do you think about a hickey prank?”

An old-fashioned trick to mess with your significant other, yet always seemed to be effective. You stared at the scene unfolding between two lovers, battling in your mind whether or not you should give it a try: “You have a point, but I doubt he’d believe it. We see each other every day.”

“Well, all you need to do is pretend to hang out with some guy and come back with a fake hickey.”

“Damn, that’s genius.” Woongmin’s voice joined you two from afar, one more time getting Juyeon to threaten him with her razor-sharp look.

“Where am I supposed to find a guy, anyway? My few guy friends either rot away in their schools or aren’t even in the country.” You chuckled at their couple-ly bicker. Speaking of the truth, you found yourself a bit thrilled at the suggestion. You would love to see how adorably pouty So Mun became when he turned possessive.

Juyeon fancily sipped her coffee: “I know someone who can help. Two days ago, a uni friend of mine coincidentally complained about how badly he wanted to get a reaction out of his black-cat partner who never gets jealous. I guess you both can do each other a favor.”

The plan developed so smoothly. You absolutely could not expect to regret your whole existence just because you surrendered to the heat of the moment: “For real?”

Earning a firm nod from Juyeon, who then gave you her friend’s phone number to further discuss the prank, you mindlessly let yourself loose into the urge. You’ve read somewhere that jealousy can prompt both parties of a romantic relationship to stay connected, which is a good thing. It’s just a small, harmless prank, right? Nothing could go wrong, right?

“We should’ve talked about this during girls’ night, maybe you could pull this prank on Woongmin, too.”

“I can hear you, y’know.”

Pure silence detonated when your explanation died down.

A sour feeling crawled up your body in monstrous shamefulness. You warily waited for his reaction upon finding out he just got caught up in a hurtful prank.

“So… the whole thing was… a joke?” A rather wounding joke, to be exact. You held your breath and raised your stained fingers up, carefully analyzing his tone while choosing your own response: “Yeah, this hickey is makeup, as you can see.”

“Right…” Based on how long a pause lingered in each sentence, you could tell he was having a hard time gathering his thoughts together. ‘Lost as hell’ would be an understatement: “...and Gwan Daehyun is just Juyeon’s classmate, he doesn’t have anything to do with you?”

“No, he doesn’t. We have nothing to do with each other.” You answered: “We only met up for the first time today through… uh, yeah.”

He exhaled agitatedly, muttering in disbelief: “And Juyeon told me she had never talked to him before. That sneaky…”

It was nearly ridiculous to think about where the situation was at the moment. If minutes ago you both were strangled by the thickened bitterness of your own reasons, now the entire ambience has reshaped into an awkward one. Confronted by quietness, you gulped, instinctively feeling like you didn’t really have the right to say these words anymore: “Plus… I would never cheat on you.”

Speechlessness floated like ashes in between you and him.

In reality, the stiffened air only lasted a few seconds, you were nonetheless certain it felt like hours. So Mun blinked a few times, trying to get rid of the left-over dried tears steamed up over his view. He eventually let out a sigh, mumbling under his breath: “Y/n, you’re… impossible.”

You lowered your head, unable to make eye contact with him: “...I’m sorry.”

“”Sorry” won’t do it.” A scoff vaguely arrived from his direction, embedding in a hint of disappointment and irritation as he wiped the dewed corner of his eye one last time: “I really was convinced you’re bored of me already.”

You clenched your mouth shut, guilt swallowed your voice.

“You know what else you have to do so I’ll forgive you?”

Although the seriousness hasn’t faltered, you wondered whether or not you were delusional out of the blue because you swore he didn’t sound that serious anymore. Your gaze shot up at him, then looked down again and shook your head when you noticed his expression hadn't lightened up.

“You don’t? I think you do.” His warm hand swept across the side of your face, lifting your chin up. You were greeted by a light raise of So Mun’s eyebrows while he airily tapped on his lips with a casual, yet cunning twinkle in his pupils.

Dumbfounded, you delayed for a second to make sure you weren’t fooled by some kind of hallucination, cautiously examining the implication he just dropped as well as his blooming smile: “You… You’re not mad at me?”

“Oh trust me, I am still very pissed off. But you know I can’t full-on stay mad at you.” So Mun shrugged, booping your nose: “Not when you’re this pouty.”

The burn behind his eyes had stopped being torturous a moment ago, yet you still felt like a criminal knowing you had created such an unpleasant tint on his scleras. You murmured: “The pouty one was primarily predicted to be you.”

“Hm?”

“Nothing.”

As if your internal self-reproach were audible, he swooped you into his chest, holding you while half-heartedly scolding you: “Just don’t pull these types of pranks on me again. Okay? One more time and I swear, I’m sleeping with Jeokbong-hyung forever.”

“Yes, I’m really sorry. I didn’t expect it to go this far.” Your arms enclosed him instantly as though they were customized to do so. You nodded against his shoulder, trying to contain a smile when his melodious chuckle filled your ear: “But the sleeping part is up to you. Bunk beds seem pretty cozy.”

So Mun rolled his eyes playfully, squeezing your cheek between his index finger and thumb: “Is that how you apologize for making your boyfriend cry?”

You cracked up, words unclear by the stretch on your face: “Oh, I’m sorry!”

Laughter echoed through the closed room, which you both preferred this way so much better than the previous heavy and wrenching atmosphere. So Mun nuzzled his nose against yours, whispering flirtatiously: “So what now? Gotta let me forgive you or you’re good?”

“No I’m not good, so please forgive me.” Heat bursting underneath your skin, tinging a shade of rosiness. You grinned and whispered before tugging blithely on the neckline of his T-shirt. His lips instantly fit onto yours just as perfectly as a puzzle piece.

A butterfly-like peck expectedly flourished into a hot mess. So Mun’s curls spilled between your fingers, trusting him to perform his magic on you. His scent ghosted your face, sending friction straight up to your mind while your mouth was accompanied by his bewitching wetness, claiming your mouth with impatience to make up for every drop of tears that had rolled off earlier.

Your body felt weightless when he lifted you off your feet, turning you away from the wall and pushing you to a surface that was much more doughy. Goosebumps enhanced down your body when the soft mattress of your own bed scratched against your back, manipulating a gasp to flee from your throat although the touch was hardly through a layer of fabric, evincing how awfully vulnerable you were in this position.

Responding to your tiny whimper, So Mun’s chuckle vibrated against your lips. He situated himself between your legs, pinning you flat on the bed and greedily nipping on your bottom lip to get the most reaction out of you. Your delicate flesh laid defenselessly against every stroke and skim of his tongue. It was no argument that he took pride in seeing you so worked up for his affection, and he wasn’t planning to stop until your pantings had stirred into one.

Your boyfriend only detached his face from yours after a while, beaming happily like it was Christmas morning at the sight of your lips glossy with his essence.

So Mun was one hell of a good kisser in contrast to his innocent face. He knew exactly when to be sugary and when to be spicy. After melting your brain to mud with his hypnotizing techniques, he placed a tender kiss on your cheek, lingering his pinkened lips over the warmth of your skin. He sweetly moved down to your jaw, then your chin as you dreamily threw your head back against the bed sheets.

His gaze fell onto the feeble “love mark” that had virtually faded away by your vigorous smudging, grinning to himself: “You know, if you wanted to show off a hickey right here, you could’ve just asked me to leave a real one on you.”

You giggled with a slightly hoarse voice, cheeks flushing brighter when he stroked his thumb over the spot, encircling the last remaining makeup stain in a gentle yet teasing manner: “I do love to have one there. But imagine all the teasing we're gonna get when the team finds out…”

“Understandable.” His stare at the fake hickey was no longer flaming with hatred, instead full of hilarity. Leaning downward, So Mun’s curly hair tickled the place under your chin and the heat of his breath fanned your skin. But you were too distracted by another sensation—a delicious softness printing on your neck—to notice it: “I just… still can’t believe it. You want to see me get jealous that bad?”

Your source of air was cut halfway and you closed your eyes in delight. (We all know) You do. Maybe you were too much of a coward to confess but the man in front of you always looked so fucking hot when he was mad: “I mean… I’m just curious?”

“Good to know. The next time I see someone flirt with you, I’m gonna beat them up.” Mellow kisses gathered around the makeup stain. So Mun closely examined the way your body trembled underneath him while open-mouthed kisses were planted along the line of your neck, testing the waters and looking for your approval.

This earned a small giggle from you. You brought a hand up to the back of his head, your digits massaging his scalp as you indirectly turned the green light on at whatever he had in store for you: “Yung is gonna beat you up, my dear.”

“Oh, Yung can’t do anything to me. I’m the pillar and the Ace, remember?”

You smiled, about to say something before your thoughts were heavily interrupted by a raid of affection on your flesh, right where the fake hickey originally occupied. But this time, it was no longer “fake.” You thanked your lucky star for suppressing your voice on time because only God knows what kind of unholy sound you’d make at the sudden pleasure.

Exhaling a deep sigh, you were barely able to hide the shakiness in your voice as So Mun dragged his lips over your neck, painting your skin with a lovely shade of red through his teeth: “More like you and your cocky ass…”

He laughed: “Yeah, me and my cocky ass, any complaints, baby?”

His hands gently pressed your shoulders, positioning you firmly against the mattress. Every suck and nibble was followed by a trail of kisses admiring your skin. You could almost feel his marks starting to blossom each time he separated his mouth from your flushed flesh, watching it bounce back with a glowing shine.

You gulped unconsciously on behalf of him pulling the collar of your shirt aside, revealing more of your hidden collarbones for what was about to come next: “...No complaints.”

Screw it. Maybe you should just let the team tease you however they want later.

The edges of his lips raised in a satisfied smile, one that never failed to hook you in a love spell. So Mun is magnetic. That’s just the way he naturally is.

Sweeping a hand under your nape, he allowed your head to fall back in a perfect curve and your neck went unsheltered. His enchanting voice bathed in anticipation as he whispered in your ear:

“Perfect. Now relax and I’ll do all the work for you.”

His devotion exploded like fireworks in the sky, each glimmer landing on the ground meant another kiss perched down on your skin. Your evening ended in So Mun’s embrace, loving you and cuddling you until the night had gone by.

You resulted in a cycle of wearing turtleneck tops constantly for three weeks straight, whether or not it was chilling outside or you were one step away from passing out in your own pool of sweat during training. To the point the other counters were highkey concerned, like, damn, what if you actually unalive due to overheating? (you won’t.)

This is all because every time your amazing boyfriend noticed his garden of cherries on your skin had slightly faded away, he’d sneak you into whatever secluded spot he could find and plant a fresh, brand new one on you, right onto the same spots.

But since it was THE So Mun initiating the act so who’s gonna complain? Not you, obviously.

Thank you sm for bearing with me til the end i know this fic is long (and OOC) (ﾉ´∀｀*) Hope you enjoyed it!!

#so mun #so mun x reader #the uncanny counter x reader #the uncanny counter #unncanny counter #lim juyeon #kim woongmin #kdrama #kdrama x reader #pookie please come home 🏠

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