#im happy for them but im so jealous i wish that could be me too i wish i could have experiences like that too i wish to be happy

[donaviolet]

Friendship is the most special thing in the world because no award could be give me bigger happiness than jumping around in my room and smiling because my pookie asked me if I wanted to match pfps

[andragoras-in-vanity]

for the love of god someone convince me from texting my ex, i daydreamed too closr to the sun and now i want attention😭

[bunnihearted]

🐁☁️🌫️

[pleasedontcareaboutme]

I don't care when people don't include me in stuff, I'm used to it but-----

my own family going on a trip w/o even asking me kinda felt

shit 🫠

[grlfriends]

.

[momopeach]

my emotions r still getting the best of me but atleast after the breakdown i feel better????

kinda.

[yourdarkcherry]

Is it casual now?// Ellie Williams x fem!reader

summary: you and Ellie had a “casual” thing until she decided to ghost you and replace you. your friends decide that the best way to get over her is to get under another woman.

warnings: jealous ellie, abby is the revenge, reader is barely surviving her first wlw heartbreak, she/her for reader.

a/n: if u cant tell im obsessed with chappell roan.

It was your fault. Sleeping with Ellie Willaims was your fault. 

Ellie was notoriously known as the toxic one, and you knew that. But you were like a moth drawn to a flame, you smiled at her when your eyes met hers too many times at the party. You allowed her to flirt with you, and encouraged her to make out with you at the backseat of the Uber. 

She told you she liked you, and that you were the sexiest girl she was with, but it was all casual and no attachments, it was just having fun.

You knew that deep in your heart, and you liked it because you weren’t looking for anything serious and simply liked the sex and the flirting without any attachment. You liked being able to sleep with anyone you wanted, you liked being able to flirt with anyone, no one blowing up your phone and no one requiring your time and care.

You liked it all.

Until Ellie wormed her way to your heart. It was truly your fault, all of your friends told you that a ‘Casual’ thing with Ellie was a recipe for disaster. 

You didn’t care, you were happy to be the one occupying most of her time, you were simply happy to be the one that got to meet her dad or Joel as she liked to call him, you were ecstatic being the only one to know how much of a big nerd she really is, to be the one to hear her sing, to be the only one that knows how to make her laugh when she’s sad.

That is all until she decided to replace you.

The sight of Ellie with another girl, the two of them were on the couch, the girl sat on Ellie’s lap and giggling into her neck as Ellie whispered things you never wanted to hear in her ear. Just seeing them like that made your eyes burn, and your breathing turned short and despite wanting to peel away your stare from them.

You couldn’t.

Your eyes were glued to them, your vision turning blurry by the second and your stomach turning sick, you didn’t drink anything at this party so you cannot blame it on the drinks no matter how much you wanted to.

In your trance at them, Ellie turned to stare at you—must’ve felt your burning look. You wanted her to push the girl away, to stand up and walk to you and lie to you that it’s not what you think it is. You wished for her to tell you any lie, to pretend like she wanted you just as you wanted her.

You would’ve believed it all, you would have succumbed to her and allowed her to take you to her bed and you would’ve allowed her back into your heart.

But none of your wishes came true. While maintaining eye contact with you, Ellie pulled the girl closer to her.You could feel the bile rising to your throat, and you ran outside the house party and threw up into one of the bushes.

Some part of you is grateful that your wishes didn’t come true, that the next day you didn’t wake up naked in Ellie’s bed. Because it makes hating her a lot easier. 

“It’s a good thing you two ended that weird casual thing you had,” Leah told you on the way to the cafeteria after class. “I don’t know about you, but if the person I was fucking with no strings attached made me meet their parents, I’d run.” You sigh and roll your eyes at her words.

“It was never casual, maybe at the beginning but it quickly escalated to something very codependent. I’m glad it ended, though.” She added, taking the booth seat. 

“Okay, can we stop airing out my dirty laundry for once? I was wrong and you were right, is that what you wanna hear?” you scoff at Leah. The woman grins and nods, “that’s exactly what I wanted to hear.”

You sigh for the millionth time on this day. 

“I’m glad you admitted that I’m right, because from now on you’re going to do exactly what I tell you to do.” Leah said, then her eyes falling to something behind you and waving. Before you could look over your shoulder to what she’s looking at, or more rightfully, who she’s looking at, she holds your arm and stops you.

“You’re going to flirt hard with Abby Anderson, and you’re going to dress as a slutty cop when you go to the party this weekend with Abby.”

You open your mouth to ask who the hell is Abby Anderson and why does Leah think she can boss you around like that, but she cuts you as she speaks urgently. “You are a whore, act like it.” before you get a chance to feel offended at her words, you hear Jordan’s voice as he greets, “hi babe”

He rounds the table to sit at the booth, he presses a kiss to Leah’s forehead. She grins into it, and from the corner of your eyes you see a new figure, you turn to look at a tall blonde woman. She pulls out a seat and then turns to look at you when she notices your look.

“Hi, I’m Abby, Jordan’s friend.” You blink, taking in the sight of the tall, blonde woman who just introduced herself as Abby. Her gaze is steady and confident, her smile is charming and polite.

“Nice to meet you, I’m (Y/N)” you reply, forcing a smile as you try to mask your confusion. Leah’s instructions echo in your mind, and you're not sure how to react. Who is this Abby Anderson, and why does Leah seem so intent on orchestrating some kind of encounter between you and her?

Leah’s so obvious as she says with a knowing look directed to you, “(Y/N), this is Abby Anderson,” 

“Hi Abby, Leah tells me a lot about you.” you lie. 

Abby chuckles, and nods, “she told me about you too. She has a knack for thinking all the lesbians on campus know each other.”

As you burst out in laughter at Abby’s comment, Leah feigns innocence as she asks, “y’all don’t? I know all the bisexuals on campus.”

Jordan leans back, his arm draped casually over the back of the booth, watching the interaction with a keen interest. "So, you guys ready for the party this weekend?" he asks.

Leah comments, throwing you another look as she said, “(Y/N)’s been looking forward to it,” she says, shooting a grin at Abby. “She never attended a frat halloween party.”

Abby nods, and looks at you, “It’s pretty fun, any thoughts for a costume?” Her voice is smooth, and it grounds you even when you glance at Leah that’s glaring at you. 

“Uh…” you hesitate, glancing again at Leah that kicks your leg underneath the table. You finally answer, “uhm…I’m going as a cop.”

“No way! I’m going as a prisoner.” Abby said with pure surprise, and when your gaze falls at Leah and Jordan that are pretending to not have known. You also stammer as you try to lie, “wow, I had no idea!”

“What a coincidence, truly.” Leah says.

“You two should go together.” Jordan comments, and Leah claps as she affirms, “oh yes that’s such a good idea! That way you two won’t look like single losers, no offense.”

“None taken.” Abby says with an amused grin, then she tilts her head to you and asks, “so, what do you say?”

“Sure.” You nod.

As the night of the party approaches, your nerves begin to bubble up, and it's not just because of the skimpy costume Leah convinced you to wear. The real source of your anxiety is the possibility of running into Ellie Williams. 

She attended all the parties, she never missed one. You on the other hand stopped attending them after the one you saw her at weeks before with that other girl in her lap. After that, you swore to never see her again. Which was easy, considering you had memorized her schedule like the back of your hand. 

The idea of seeing her at the party, mingling with others and having fun, twists your stomach into knots.

“When’s Abby picking you up?” Leah asks, her voice coming out of the speaker of your phone.

You stand in front of the mirror, adjusting the police costume's accessories for the umpteenth time, trying to focus on anything other than the potential encounter. “In five minutes, you on the way the party?” 

“Yeah, Jordan is in the car with me.” She answers. 

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. “Cool, I’ll see you guys there,” you say, forcing a smile that Leah can’t see.

“Hey, you'll be fine," Leah reassures, her tone softening. "Remember, this party is about you having fun and maybe getting to know Abby better. Don't worry about Ellie. If she shows up, just ignore her. You've got this."

You nod, even though she can't see you, and glance at the clock. Time seems to drag and race simultaneously, your thoughts racing ahead to every possible scenario that could unfold at the party. The memory of seeing Ellie with another girl, looking so carefree and happy, still stings. It was that moment that made you realize it was time to let go.

A knock on your door startles you out of your reverie. You quickly grab your phone, ending the call with Leah. "Abby's here. I'll catch you later."

"Have fun, (Y/N)!" Leah calls out before you hang up. You take one last look in the mirror, smoothing down your costume and taking a deep breath.

When you open the door, Abby stands there, a grin on her face. She's in her prisoner costume, complete with fake tattoos on her arms. She was wearing a short sleeved orange button down, the first five buttons left open and giving you a good look into her chest. “Hey, Officer,” she jokes lightly, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Please don’t arrest me just yet, I have a party to attend.”

You laugh, though it’s tinged with nervousness. “I’ll let you off the hook just this time.” you reply, stepping out and closing the door behind you. 

The drive to the party is filled with light chatter, Abby doing most of the talking. She seems at ease, excited for the night ahead, and her energy is contagious. You try to focus on her words, on the fun you're supposed to be having, but a part of you can't stop thinking about Ellie.

It’s truly the pinnacle of loser behavior as your friends always tell you, but you can’t help it. She plagues your mind, and everything about her haunts you.

As you arrive at the party, the music and laughter spilling out from the house only amplify your anxiety.You and Abby climb the steps leading up to the door, and enter through the wide door. Your eyes scan through the dim lit room with the red and green lights. The music pulses through the room, a steady beat that seems to synchronize with the thrumming in your chest. You scan the room, your eyes darting from group to group, hoping to spot familiar faces—or perhaps to avoid one in particular.

"Wow, it's packed," Abby comments, leaning in close to be heard over the music. Her presence is comforting, a steady anchor in the sea of partygoers.

You nod, your eyes still searching the room. Suddenly, you spot Nora and Mel in one of the corners, engaged in an animated conversation. They're dressed up too, Nora as a pirate with a makeshift sword at her side and Mel as a witch, complete with a pointed hat and a fake broomstick.

A wave of relief washes over you at the sight of your friends. You nudge Abby and point in their direction. "There are Nora and Mel," you say, a genuine smile breaking through your earlier anxiety.

Abby smiles back, nodding. "Let's go say hi."

As you and Abby approach Nora and Mel, their faces light up with recognition. Nora waves excitedly. "Hey, Abby! (Y/N)! Over here!"

Mel, grins widely, “there you two are! We were wondering when you'd show up." She gives you both a quick hug. "And look at you, Abby! Going all out with the prisoner theme, huh?" Nora hands you a drink that you down, hoping it will calm down your nerves.

Abby laughs, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “Thanks” she says as she’s glancing at you, "and (Y/N) makes a pretty convincing cop, don't you think?"

Nora nods enthusiastically. "Absolutely! You two look great. Perfect match for the night." She takes the empty cup from you and places it somewhere else. Eager to find another drink, you take the red cup from Mel’s hands and down it too.

A new song starts playing, and as you recognize the song from the beginning of it. Nora’s eyes widen and she pushes you and Abby to the direction of the dance floor, “this is (Y/N)’s favorite song! You two should dance together!”

It doesn’t take you long to figure out that Leah most likely roped Nora into it too. The mission of getting you to get laid by someone new to get over your weird feelings for Ellie.

It seems like your friends are determined to push you out of your comfort zone tonight. Abby, ever the good sport, grins and shrugs. "Well, if it's your favorite song, we have to dance," she says, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

Caught in a case of mild embarrassment, you let yourself be led to the dance floor. When you reach there, you kick out all the embarrassment out of your head, and then turn around as you bring Abby’s hands to rest on your waist from the back.

It’s a dangerous game you’re playing, but if your friends are so eager for you to sleep with Abby, you might as well do that. It’s probably the tell-tale signs of you being tipsy but the idea of making out with Abby seems like a good idea right now. You like her just enough, and she seems to like you too.

With that, you start grinding your ass on her. Abby leans in close, her breath warm against your ear. "You're a pretty good dancer," she says and you can hear her teasing grin. 

You smile back, feeling a flush of warmth to your cheeks and neck as one of her hands on your waist roams underneath your tits.

“Do you like my costume?” you ask, your hand resting on her own and you tilt your head to the side to allow her to press her face to your neck. She breathes in your perfume and whispers back, “I love it.”

You’re about to whisper the same line you used on Ellie when she saw you wearing that tiny scarlet dress she likes in that first party you met her. I wore it just so you’d sleep with me. But your eyes fall on the very same Ellie Williams.

Standing right to the side, and glaring at you like you were the one that cursed her with seven years of bad luck. Her piercing gaze sends a chill down your spine, and any playful mood you had vanishes instantly. The weight of her stare is too much, and instinctively, you pull back from Abby, the space between you widening in an instant.

Abby, sensing the shift, looks at you with concern, “something wrong?”

“I—I need to go to the bathroom.” you lie, and then take unbalanced steps towards the stairs to use the upstairs bathroom. Your mind races, unsure of what to do next. The party, the music, and the laughter all fade into the background as you enter the toilet.

You allow the cold water to sting your hands as you can’t really wash your face. 

But before you can fully collect your thoughts, the door swings open, and Ellie steps in, closing it behind her with a quiet click. The small space suddenly feels even smaller, the air charged with the unresolved tension between you.

Ellie’s eyes are a mix of emotions—anger, hurt, and something else you can’t quite place. She takes a step closer, her jaw set. “What the hell was that?” she asks, her voice low but intense.

You swallow hard, feeling the weight of her gaze. You rest your hands on the sink as you scoff, “why do you care?” then you push your weight back while turning around to face her, “you moved on, and I’m trying to move on.”

“Is that what it was? Moving on?”

You hesitate, the words sticking in your throat. You want to say yes, to tell her that you’re over her, but the truth is, you’re not sure. Seeing her now, the intensity of your feelings crashes over you like a wave, and you realize that moving on is much harder than you thought it would be.

“Actually, it’s not moving on. We were never something, it was never that deep between us.” You say.

You feel your heartbeat accelerating as you stare at her, before you stepped closer to the door and invade her personal space, “baby, no attachment.” you use the same words she told you that last night you slept with her.

Without waiting for her reaction, you turn and push open the bathroom door. You walk out, the noise of the party flooding back in, a stark contrast to the tense silence of the small room. As you step into the hallway, your heart races, the adrenaline from the confrontation making your pulse quicken.

Forcing yourself to keep moving, and trying to put as much distance between yourself and Ellie as possible. You promise yourself that night that you won’t allow her to take up one thought of your mind.

[freyaphoria]

now im curious what yandere hongjoong does for a living hehe also joong gifted hwa legos for his good behavior right? could you write something like yn being jealous bcs joong gifted hwa present and nothing for you?

Alexa, play Will you be my 벗? (8:09 sec) by Ateez -> Wooyoung: bimil~

I'm kidding, but since I'm thinking of writing the fic in series, I want it to be a surprise loll. But it's a job that suits his yandere character very well, you can guess it, right?

And I would like to express my love and gratitude to my dear @matzrionette for helping me find a title🩷

Jealousy Left Unwrapped

tw: jealousy!, yandere hongjoong, yan!seongjoong x reader

wc: 1540

taglist: @aim-blossom

"Why do you look so sad?" You swear he's doing it on purpose. He does it knowingly to make you jealous and drive you crazy. It doesn't take a genius to understand why you're upset.

"I am not." replied briefly and harshly. Your eyes were also on Seonghwa, who opened the gift package with excitement. "What's that tone of voice? Know your place." Your eye muscles had developed from rolling your eyes at Hongjoong during your stay here. After rolling your eyes at him, you were still hoping that he would give you a gift, too. After all, you were just as good as Hwa, okay you still didn't like Hongjoong but at least you tolerated him. Even this should have been rewarded.

"Joongie! You bought the set I wanted the most! Thank you so much!" Having finished unpacking, Seonghwa jumped on Hongjoong and hugged his neck. Your stomach dropped when Hongjoong said something to him like it was no big deal and kissed his cheek. For a moment, you thought that if Hongjoong was going to expect the same performance from you when he gave you a gift, you'd rather he didn't give a gift at all.

But then you thought again why he bought a gift for him and not for you. Why didn't he buy you anything? You've been behaving really well lately. You didn't try to escape, you were finishing your meals. Sometimes when Hongjoong hugged you, you didn't try to escape from his arms. You even wished him good night yesterday. Why didn't he buy you anything?

Was this jealousy? No way. You weren't crazy enough to be jealous that the man who kidnapped you was buying a gift for his other victim, who was just as crazy as himself, but not buying one for you.

Yes, you agreed. You were jealous. But how can you not be jealous? Hongjoong already had a favorite. His favorite of course, was Hwa, either because they spent more time together, or because he found Hwa and formed a bond with him at the peak of his sick impulses, or because he was a hundred times more loyal to Hongjoong than you. Yes, he loved you obsessively too, but look, he bought the gift for Seonghwa, not you.

Seonghwa looked at you as jealousy flared in your heart, forming a bigger and bigger ball. "Angel look, now we have a set to do together!" He looked very happy. And the fact that he included you in his gift made you feel ashamed of your jealous thoughts. But the problem wasn't Seonghwa, it was Hongjoong.

Of course, Hongjoong knew what he was doing. From time to time, in order to keep your relationship strong, he would give more attention to one of you than the other and ignore the other. This was one of his favorite manipulation tactics. The person who is ignored subconsciously thinks, "I must be as good as them, what can I do to make him love me as much?" he loved injecting this thoughts and seeing the flames of jealousy in both of your eyes. And he would definitely win. When he used this tactic on you, for a few days, without realizing it, you would act closer to Hongjoong, do whatever he said like a puppet, and try to win his love. Of course, you wouldn't do this consciously, but being the favorite person of the person who held power in his hands and the gifts or freedoms he showed you was very tempting.

After fake smiling at Seonghwa, you stood up. "I'm going to my room." As you turned around and went to your room, you heard Seonghwa say 'we were going to start this together, where are you going?' even though you heard his whining, Seonghwa was the last person you wanted to see right now.

You knew what you were doing was childish, but you couldn't help it. While jealousy was flowing through your veins, you were startled by the gentle knock on the room door. You knew it was Hwa, the only kind person here, who knocked your room.

"Did something happen?" You shook your head without looking at his face. Just as he was about to open his mouth again and say something, he closed his mouth when he heard Hongjoong's voice calling him from downstairs. "I'll start preparing dinner, if you want, you can watch TV with Hongjoong while I prepare it. I'll get his permission for you." It was starting to make you sick to your stomach at how nice he was to you. You sometimes wished he could treat you as cruelly and harshly as Hongjoong. This way, there would be nothing binding you here and you wouldn't start getting used to here. But sometimes, you wondered what would happen to Seonghwa if you managed to escape. You wouldn't forgive yourself if you couldn't save him from here and if his Hongjoong-like behavior progressed and he completely turned into Hongjoong.

"No need." You said without looking at him again. Seonghwa thought it would be better to close the door and leave you alone.

Dinner time also passed in silence. Since you didn't look at Seonghwa's face, you didn't see the new star necklace he had around his neck. Did he always have that necklace? No. You noticed it when it swayed as he took your empty plate, catching your eye with its metal reflection. "Since when did you have that necklace?" Hongjoong smiled at you subtly, as if expecting this question. "Ah, Hongjoong got this too. He gave it to me after you left. Beautiful, isn't it?" He told you with a big smile and playing with the star in his hand. He never meant to make you jealous, he was just very excited and wanted to show it off to the world. It was truly a great achievement and honor to receive a gift from Hongjoong.

Hongjoong saw the flaring jealousy in your eyes as you stood up from the table, and grabbed your arm before you could get too far. "What, you don't like it?" He was smiling at you so annoyingly that if he hadn't held your right hand, you would have tried to punch him. Unfortunately, you couldn't give the effect you wanted with your left hand. Maybe he was waiting for you to explode and punish you for it. You didn't know.

But you weren't going to give him what he wanted, he wasn't going to get that reaction from you. You put on a fake smile as you tried to pull your arm away from him. "I like it! It's beautiful! I loved it! It couldn't have been more beautiful!" You hated it when your emotions showed in your tone of voice. If you were stronger, could you stand up to him? "That tone of voice... Is it jealousy?" When he said it with a giggle, you felt yourself blushing from your ears to your cheeks. "Haha! Why are you jealous? After all, you hate this place and me, and it shouldn't matter if I buy him a gift and not you, right?" Ah, he's started again. Even if you denied it, he would continue this psychological torture until you agreed, so you would admit that you were jealous because you wanted it to end as soon as possible without tiring your brain any further. And also, yes, you were jealous.

"Yes, I'm jealous! So what?!" Seonghwa was watching you with wide eyes. Sometimes he was jealous of you too, but it wasn't because of the gifts Hongjoong bought you, it was because of the attention he gave you and didn't give him. "May I know why you're jealous, princess?" He knew why, but he enjoyed humiliating you this way. "Because... Because I've been so g-good lately too! Okay, even though I wasn't as good as Hwa, but I was s-still good! Why didn't you reward me too?" You cursed under your breath at your trembling and stuttering state. When he didn't say anything and looked at you, he looked at you for a long time, you felt uncomfortable and squirmed in your place. "Angel, we can do the lego set together-" "Seonghwa, shut up. Princess, if you were as obedient and loyal as Seonghwa, I would buy it for you too. But you still don't hug and kiss me of your own accord, it hurts my dignity." He looked at you and opened his arms a little, as if he expected you to jump into his lap, hug and kiss him right now. Even though you were jealous of the opportunities he offered Seonghwa, you were never going to give him what he wanted. You didn't move and looked at his arms for a while. Thinking you were hesitating, he said "Come here." to encourage you.

"In your dreams." You pulled your arm away from him harshly and headed back upstairs. "Then I won't buy you anything again!" His voice coming from downstairs got on your nerves. "You're not buying me anything anyway!" You shouted at him with the same tone of voice. Before slamming the door, you heard that Hongjoong mumbled something to Seonghwa about him banning you from watching TV for a week.

a/n: Again me and again yandere matz... Please keep sending me requests about yandere matz. I'm dying for them! Also, my next fic will be yandere yunho and lots of chaos! (I received the request you sent me but please give me some time to write it, dear anon♡♡)

[angelsrcute]

Haloo :D im wondering if u r taking requests now but if u r can u write a fyodor with immortal female reader ? It would be wonderful if u can can but u can ignore this request if u want to

“ But can't you see my dear? I am your doppelganger ♡”

⌗ A LOVE IMMORTAL SUCH AS MINE, WILL COME TO ME, ETERNALLY. 𐙚˙⋆.˚

(´∀｀*)ε｀　) ౨ৎ N–sfw content !! ; Dom!Immortal!Vampire!Fyodor + Sub!Immortal!Vampire!F!Reader ➜ cws: Modern au, Jealous!Fyodor, Vampire themes, fwb → lovers, alcohol mentions, biting, unprotected sex + use of lube, tit play, overstimulation, creampie, oral sex (f receiving), slight Yandere!Fyodor(?), Soft!Fyodor.

꒰ † ੭ — this ended up being my longest fic ever, lol, 1.3k words!! I am taking reqs! + a lil inspiration from olgami, it's such a good webtoon. (人´∀`)♪ Translation: "Мышка" (myshka)

When humans age, they die and pass on to the afterlife, don't they? Death was something that never came to you, ah immortality, such a cool thing. It was more like a curse to you, humans coming and going, years passing by but still no one seemed to notice the same face walking among them for all these decades. Faces unrecognisable as you try to remember their names, their relation with you, not that it mattered anyway.

Relationships were a nuisance, blink and they're already gone, dead, as you stand in their funeral. It was a really funny thing, oh how you wished you could die instead of watching your loved ones die.

Fyodor Dostoevsky. Not a famous name for humans but for vampires, they say he's the oldest vampire to ever live. Have you ever met with him? You did, decades ago, in his bed, in his mansion, fyodor needed some relief and so did you.

He was the one who saved you from your death, why? Because he thought you were interesting. He'd take care of you and teach you how to hunt, how to kill people and make sure no one finds out. He seemed like a lonely man too, house deep in the woods, living all by himself.

The other vampires though, had this bloodlust, to kill him, to become the lord themselves. Everyone clawing at any chance they get, to paint their fingers red with his blood. You never understood their reasoning, what's so good living a life like this?

Dressed in the finest silk and jewelries, he liked seeing you in white clothing the most. He said it made you look like a saint, the saint that brought some change to his boring life. He definitely wasn't a fan of other vampires eyefucking you at meetings. Well, they'd end up going missing anyway.

Cleaning up after him was annoying, why did he have to be so busy? that also playing the piano as he drank wine. Blankly staring at the body in front of you as you clean the floor, muttering curses at him.

It didn't take long but you fell for him, yearning for his touches, but you could never confess, fearing it would ruin your relationship. Your body burning like fire as he kisses you, snapping his hips against you, dress ripped off and discarded on the floor.

“You liked that dress? I'll tell them to make one for you again, money isn't a problem for me.”

Cold slender fingers playing with your nipples as he decorates your neck with bite marks, drawing blood from them. Tongue darting out to lick the blood as he whispers about how sweet you taste to your ears. Your nails digging into his shoulders as your eyes roll back from pleasure, his hands holding your leg up at this point.

Everything was going smoothly until one day he disappeared, without a single word. All the other vampires went crazy over this fact. Some were happy thinking he finally died, some just disappointed that they couldn't be the one killing him.

You returned to Russia after a lot of years, travelling all over the world, everything was different to you, with the years, technology also grew, like for instance, this human was staring into a phone. Bumping into you and not saying a single apology but they had the audacity to curse you instead, calling you blind.

Well, guess you just found yourself dinner, how lucky. Hiding the body with no effort, muttering to yourself “The world would be a little better without people like this.”

You went down an alley, there was a nice bar here, you remembered. Entering it, you took a seat after ordering your favourite drink. From the corner of your eyes, you could see a stranger coming up to you, sitting beside you, “I've never seen you around here, darling, do you need some help? I know a really nice place around here–”

The man went on rambling about nonsense, poor attempts at flirting, and why is he even talking about himself, you don't remember asking. Quietly sipping on your drink as you ignored the stranger. The stranger, though, seemed offended, “Hey I'm talking to you, whore, if you don't want attention, dress up more!”

Now that part really got on your nerves, what were you supposed to wear, a long ass winter jacket? You could just pretend to play along and just kill this guy, not even interested in drinking his blood! But someone else's voice stopped you, a voice too fucking familiar.

It was none other than fyodor, you watched as he grabbed your wrist and pulled you by his side, eyes narrowing at the stranger with a smile, “It's really rude to flirt with someone's lover, don't you think? You'll walk away from here and remember nothing.” The guy on command, got up and left the bar, the people in the surrounding, definitely didn't care.

“You look like you've seen a ghost, Мышка.” He chuckled, as if he just met you yesterday and not decades ago.

“What the fuck? Where the hell were you for all these years!?” You shouted at him, burning a hole into his face with your glare, “Of course I'm surprised, am I not supposed to be when you appear like that? God!”

“Let's discuss it somewhere private, shall we? I know a hotel nearby.” You hated how composed he seemed to be, but still followed him, giving him a chance to explain himself.

“I was a bit hurt, dear, why didn't you tell the man to leave? or were you interested?” He asked while sitting down on the bed.

“Is that what we're talking about? Give me an explanation, fyodor, where the hell were you?”

“A bit busy, don't mind me, I had business that needed to be taken care of.”

“That's it? You could've at least told me a goodbye! or sent letters.”

“Ah, but that would give away my location, wouldn't it? I didn't want any disturbances, but enough about me, where were you? I couldn't find you in my mansion.”

“I was travelling, and I did not see a point in staying there if you weren't there but you really had me worried, you know?” You sighed, sitting beside him.

Well this was supposed to be meeting up with a past ‘friend’. So why did this turn into a fucking session? According to a certain someone, he wanted to make up for his mistakes!

Currently between your thighs, lapping up your folds like he hadn't eaten in years, savouring the taste like it was his favorite meal. He teased your clit with his tongue, gently flicking it, before sucking it into his mouth. Your moans and whines were music to his ear, he could feel you were close, his tongue speeding up to make you cum.

“F-fuck…gonna cum–” You stammered before cumming, lewd slurping sounds filling the room before getting up and kissing you, slipping his tongue in your mouth, making you taste yourself. A string of saliva joining your tongue after he breaks the kiss, he definitely likes seeing you like this— face flushed, hair disheveled, neck decorated by pretty hickeys by him.

You don't remember what round it was, all you can feel is the way he keeps fucking his cum back in your cunt. Sweat glistening on your body as you can't help but let out whimpers due to overstimulation, “T-Too much, fedya…slow down–”

“I'm sure you can cum for me again, my dear.”

He kisses your tear soaked face while rubbing soothing circles on your clit to calm you down. You pull him closer to kiss again, running your hands through his soft hair before he cums in you for the last time and pulls out.

Fyodor runs you a warm bath and then puts you on the bed, climbing in to cuddle with you, well, such a memorable get together isn't it?

Taglist: @blueberrisdove

[reidmarieprentiss]

I Love You

Summary: Spencer tries to redeem himself after ruining everything he had with you.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: fluff, smut (18+)

Warnings/Includes: light smut (18+), pain of breakup, voicing that pain

Word count: 8.2k

a/n: eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee part two to i love you (i would write part 3) —hi was gonna wait to post butttt im having a bad monday so i wanted to see these fellas have their happy ending

masterlist part one

July, 2008

“Hey,” you said softly, your eyes searching his, filled with emotions.

“Hey,” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

A silence hung between you, thick with unspoken words, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was as if both of you were trying to navigate the delicate terrain of this moment, unsure of where to begin.

“Come in,” you finally said, stepping aside to let him enter. Spencer nodded, stepping into your apartment with familiarity and trepidation. As you closed the door behind him, you couldn’t help but notice how he seemed almost hesitant, as if afraid to disrupt the space you had built for yourself in his absence.

You both moved to the living room, where he sat on the edge of the couch, his hands fidgeting slightly in his lap. You took a seat across from him, giving him the space he seemed to need.

“I’ve been thinking about what to say to you for months,” Spencer began, his voice tentative, eyes focused on his hands. “But now that I’m here, I realize that no amount of words can really make up for what I did.”

You remained quiet, letting him speak, knowing that this was something he needed to get out.

“I was jealous. Insecure. I let my fears control me, and I ended up pushing away the one person who meant everything to me,” he continued, his voice cracking slightly as he spoke. “I know I hurt you, and I can’t take that back. But I need you to know how sorry I am. I’m so sorry for doubting you, for accusing you, for letting my insecurities get in the way of what we had.”

You could see the sincerity in his eyes, the regret that weighed heavily on him. It tugged at your heart, but you weren’t ready to let go of the pain just yet.

“Spencer,” you began, your voice steady but soft, “I appreciate you wanting to fix things, to be willing to admit your feelings. But what happened… it wasn’t between us. It was just you. I wasn’t a part of any of the decision-making, or the understanding. The only part of our relationship that I was present for towards the end, was the breakup. You left me out of everything and made up your own stories and facts about me, your loving, devoted girlfriend. I put all of my trust into you, and I only wish you had done the same for me.”

Your words hung in the air, heavy with the truth that had been buried for too long. Spencer’s face paled as he absorbed what you were saying, the weight of his actions settling on him like a burden he could never fully shake off.

“I know,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I know I let my fears and insecurities take control, and I didn’t give you the trust and respect you deserved. I created a narrative in my head, one that wasn’t based on reality, and I let it destroy what we had.”

You nodded, your heart aching but resolute. “Spencer, relationships are built on trust, communication, and partnership. You can’t love someone and keep them at arm’s length, making decisions about them without including them. That’s not how it works.”

He looked at you, his eyes filled with regret. “You’re right. I failed you in every way that mattered. I don’t know how to fix that, but I want to try. I want to earn back your trust, if that’s even possible.”

You sighed, feeling the weight of the past year pressing down on you. “It’s not something that can be fixed overnight, Spencer. And honestly, I don’t know if I’m ready to even try right now. I need time to think, to figure out what I want.”

Spencer nodded, his expression solemn. “I understand. I’m willing to wait, to give you all the time you need. I just needed you to know how sorry I am, and how much I regret everything I did.”

The room fell silent again, but this time it was a silence of understanding—a mutual acknowledgment of the pain and the need for space. It wasn’t a resolution, but it was a step toward something, even if that something was simply closure.

“Thank you for coming here, Spencer,” you said finally, your voice softer now. “I needed to hear this, and I think you needed to say it.”

“I did,” he agreed, standing up slowly. “I’ll go now. But if you ever want to talk, or… anything, I’m here.”

“No… you don’t have to leave,” you said quickly, surprising even yourself with the words.

Spencer paused, looking at you with confusion and hope. “What? Why not?”

“You took a three-hour train to be here,” you continued, your voice softer now. “We can… still be friends. Friends spend time together. Right?”

Spencer’s eyes searched yours, as if trying to gauge whether you truly meant it. “Right,” he finally said, a tentative smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

You nodded, feeling a small sense of relief. “So, stay. We can talk, or just… be here. No pressure.”

He hesitated for a moment, then slowly sat back down, the tension in his shoulders easing just a little. “I’d like that,” he admitted, the words carrying a sincerity that made your heart ache.

And so, you both sat there, the remnants of what you once had still lingering in the air, but now with a new understanding—a step toward healing, toward something different. Maybe it was the beginning of a friendship, or maybe it was just a way to start mending what had been broken. Either way, it felt like the right thing to do, and for now, that was enough.

—

As you both settled into the couch, the initial tension began to dissipate, replaced by a more comfortable atmosphere. Spencer shifted slightly, trying to find the right words to break the ice, but you beat him to it.

“So,” you began with a teasing smile, “have you read any good books lately? Or are you still just hoarding them?”

Spencer chuckled, the familiar sound bringing a sense of warmth to the room. “Hoarding? I prefer to think of it as curating a personal library.”

“Sure, sure,” you laughed. “And how many of those ‘curated’ books have you actually read?”

He rolled his eyes playfully. “More than you might think! But okay, I’ll admit, the collection has outgrown my reading pace a bit.”

“A bit?” you teased, raising an eyebrow. “I remember you saying that about three bookshelves ago.”

Spencer smiled, feeling more at ease. “Well, you know how it is. So many books, so little time. But I did finish that mystery novel you recommended.”

“Oh, you mean the one where the butler actually didn’t do it?” you grinned, leaning back against the couch.

“Yes! I was convinced it was him the entire time,” Spencer admitted, shaking his head. “They really got me with that twist.”

You laughed, the sound light and genuine. “I knew you’d like it! I told you it wasn’t as predictable as it seemed.”

“Okay, okay, you were right,” he conceded, a playful tone in his voice. “What about you? Been to any good concerts lately, or are you too busy performing in them?”

“Touché,” you said, giving him a mock glare. “But actually, I did go to one recently! It was kind of nice to be in the audience for a change, you know?”

Spencer nodded, a genuine smile on his face. “I can imagine. It’s probably a different experience when you’re not the one on stage.”

“It really is,” you agreed. “I got to just enjoy the music without worrying about anything. It was a good reminder of why I love it so much.”

The conversation flowed easily after that, the two of you slipping back into a comfortable rhythm, sharing stories and light-hearted banter. It felt natural, almost like old times, but with a new understanding and a lighter, more cautious energy. It wasn’t the same as before, but it was something, and it felt good to just be in each other’s company again.

—

Spencer left later that evening, feeling lighter but not completely at ease. The conversation had been a step in the right direction, but he knew there was still a lot of work to do to truly prove to you how sorry he was. The road to rebuilding your trust was going to be long, and he was prepared to do whatever it took.

As the door closed behind him, you found yourself sitting in the quiet of your apartment, reflecting on the unexpected turn of events. Despite everything, Spencer had always been a significant part of your life, and it seemed that, in some ways, he still was. The emotions of the day swirled in your mind, a mix of old memories and new beginnings.

Instinctively, you reached for a notebook and pen, letting your thoughts flow onto the pages. Spencer had been your muse for years, inspiring some of your most heartfelt songs. That hadn’t changed, even after all the pain. Now, as you started scribbling down ideas, you felt that familiar spark—his presence still lingered, giving rise to new melodies and lyrics. The words came naturally, you weren’t sure where this new song would lead or what it would become, but for now, it was enough to let the music carry your emotions, just as it always had.

—

Spencer knew that rebuilding your trust would take time and consistent effort, so he began with the little things, the everyday gestures that showed he was thinking of you. 

He started texting you whenever something small reminded him of you—a funny sign he saw on his way to work, a quirky fact he knew you’d appreciate, or just a picture of his coffee when it was served in one of those oversized mugs you always loved. The messages were brief but thoughtful, his way of staying connected without pushing too hard.

When you didn’t answer his calls, he left sweet, friendly voicemails. “Hey, it’s me,” he’d say, his voice warm with a hint of nervousness. “I just wanted to hear your voice, but no worries if you’re busy. I hope you’re having a good day. Call me back if you can. If not, I’ll catch you later.” His tone was always light, never demanding, just letting you know he was thinking of you.

Every time you finished a show, you’d return to your hotel room to find a beautiful bouquet of flowers waiting for you. The notes attached were always simple, but they made your heart ache a little less. I know you were amazing tonight. I can hear the crowd from across the ocean. –Spencer was your favorite one, always signed with just his first name, a touch of the familiar that made you smile despite yourself.

Spencer also made it his mission to read every book you had ever recommended. Late at night, after finishing a chapter, he would call you to share his thoughts. “Hey, I just finished that mystery novel you suggested,” he’d say, excitement evident in his voice. “You were right, the twist was incredible! I didn’t see it coming at all. I’d love to hear what you thought when you read it.” Sometimes you answered, and sometimes you didn’t, but he always left a message, continuing the conversation as if you were right there with him.

These small, consistent gestures slowly chipped away at the walls between you. They weren’t grand declarations, but they were genuine, thoughtful, and persistent—a reflection of Spencer’s commitment to making things right, one step at a time.

—

September, 2008

You had a show tonight in Amsterdam, and the city seemed to glow with a charm that made you fall in love with it a little more every day. The weather was perfect, with a gentle breeze and sunshine that reflected off the canals, making everything feel just a bit more magical. You couldn’t have asked for a better setting to prepare for your performance. You were soaking it all in, convinced that this country might just be one of your favorite stops on the tour.

But that sense of contentment was abruptly interrupted when you left your hotel that morning for a walk with Emerson, your head of security. The usual routine—just a quiet stroll to clear your mind before the day’s whirlwind began. But today, there was something different.

As you stepped out of the hotel, your eyes adjusted to the bright morning light, and then they landed on a figure standing next to Emerson. It took a second for your brain to catch up with what your eyes were seeing, but when it did, your heart skipped a beat. 

Spencer.

He was standing there, looking slightly out of place but unmistakably beautiful. His hands were shoved in his pockets, his posture a mix of nervousness and resolve. When he saw you, his eyes softened, and the hint of a smile tugged at his lips.

“Spencer?” you said, surprise and confusion mingling in your voice as you stepped closer.

“Hey,” he replied, his voice tentative but hopeful. “I was in the neighborhood. I thought… maybe I could catch your show tonight.”

You glanced at Emerson, who gave a small nod, signaling that Spencer had already been vetted and that his presence wasn’t an issue from a security standpoint. That left you to decide how you felt about him being here—unannounced, thousands of miles from home.

“You were in the neighborhood, huh?” you asked, raising an eyebrow with skepticism and amusement.

“Mhm,” Spencer nodded, his expression serious for a moment before a small, teasing smile tugged at his lips. “Just passing through.”

You couldn’t help but smirk at his attempt to play along. “You didn’t come here to see anything? Anyone in particular?”

He pretended to think for a moment, then shook his head, eyes sparkling with mischief. “No? Why would I do that?” he teased, his tone light but carrying a hint of the vulnerability you knew he was trying to mask.

You rolled your eyes playfully, feeling some of the tension ease between you. “Well, since you’re here, you might as well see a show tonight. I hear it’s going to be a good one.”

Spencer’s smile widened, the relief evident in his eyes as he realized you weren’t upset. “I’d like that,” he said softly. “I’d really like that.”

The two of you stood there for a moment, the light banter easing some of the weight that had been hanging over your relationship. There was still so much to talk about, so much to work through, but for now, the fact that Spencer was here—willing to put in the effort and show up—meant something. And that was a start.

—

Emerson found a small table just within view, keeping a discreet yet vigilant eye on you and Spencer as the two of you settled into a cozy café along the canal. The picturesque setting, with its cobblestone streets and gently flowing water, seemed to work its magic, casting a warm, romantic glow over everything. You could see the old-world charm of Amsterdam reflected in the brown of Spencer’s eyes, and the peaceful atmosphere made it easy to forget, if only for a moment, the unresolved tensions between you two.

As you both sipped your coffee, the conversation naturally flowed, light and easy, with a hint of the playfulness that had always existed between you. 

“This place is amazing,” Spencer remarked, looking around with genuine appreciation. “I don’t think I’ve ever been anywhere quite like it.”

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” you agreed, feeling the warmth of the sun on your face. “But I have to admit, I’m a little biased. I’ve always had a soft spot for places like this—where everything feels timeless.”

Spencer smiled, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary. “Timeless suits you,” he said, his voice soft but filled with meaning.

You felt a blush rise to your cheeks, the compliment catching you off guard. “You always know just what to say, don’t you?” you teased, trying to downplay the effect his words had on you.

“Only when it comes to you,” he replied, his tone slightly more serious but still playful enough to keep things light.

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head at his flirtatiousness. “Careful, Dr. Reid. You’re getting dangerously close to charming your way back into my good graces.”

Spencer leaned in slightly, his eyes sparkling with that familiar mix of intelligence and mischief. “Is that so? Because I was under the impression I had quite a bit of ground to make up.”

You raised an eyebrow, matching his playful tone. “Oh, you definitely do. But I have to say, this impromptu visit to Amsterdam is a pretty solid start.”

Spencer’s smile widened, emboldened by the fact that you hadn’t shut him down. “Well, I’ve always been a fan of spontaneous gestures. Especially when they involve canals and coffee with a beautiful woman.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t hide the smile tugging at your lips. “Spencer, you’re laying it on thick today.”

“Just trying to make the most of the moment,” he said, his voice softening as he looked at you with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat.

For a moment, it was easy to forget that you hadn’t made up your mind about where things stood between you. The romantic setting, the easy conversation, and the lingering affection between you made it feel like everything was just as it had been before. You allowed yourself to bask in the moment, enjoying the way Spencer’s presence made you feel—light, happy, and maybe even a little bit hopeful.

As you both continued to flirt and laugh, the city of Amsterdam seemed to wrap you in its embrace, making it easy to pretend, just for a little while, that all the hurt and uncertainty were far behind you.

—

While you were whisked away for sound checks and concert preparations, Spencer found himself with some time to explore the charming streets of Amsterdam on his own. The city was a maze of narrow alleys, quaint shops, and hidden gems, each turn offering something new to discover. As he wandered, Spencer stumbled upon a small, local florist tucked away on a quiet street corner. The shop was brimming with vibrant blooms, their sweet scent filling the air. It was then that an idea struck him.

—

That evening, as you took the stage, you felt a different kind of energy pulsing through you. The anticipation of the performance always brought a thrill, but tonight was special. You knew Spencer was somewhere in the crowd, watching you with those thoughtful eyes of his. It was hard not to shine a little brighter, knowing he was there, sharing this moment with you.

Even with thousands of faces in the crowd, you could sense him out there, unwavering in his attention. Knowing he was watching, supporting you, made you feel invincible. For the first time in a long while, you fully embraced the moment, letting the music and the crowd's energy fill you up.

When the concert ended, the thunderous applause echoed in your ears as you walked off the stage, your heart racing—not just from the performance, but from the anticipation of seeing Spencer again. The night wasn’t over, and you couldn’t wait to see what it had in store.

—

The ride back to your hotel from the venue was charged with a new, palpable energy between you and Spencer. The city lights flickered past as you sat together in the backseat, his hand gently holding yours, and you didn’t pull away. You let him hold onto you, both of you savoring the quiet connection that had started to rebuild itself.

When you arrived at your hotel, Emerson gave you a goodnight with a knowing wink before leaving you and Spencer alone. As you opened the door to your room, you were greeted by a breathtaking sight—every surface in the vintage, pristine room was covered in flower bouquets. The rich scent of fresh blooms filled the air, making the moment even more surreal.

“Spencer?” you called out, still taking in the unexpected surprise.

“Yes, Y/N?” he replied, his voice soft, almost nervous.

“You did this?” you asked, turning to face him with wide eyes.

“No, it was all Dylan,” he teased, trying to keep his tone light.

You raised an eyebrow, amused. “He would never. He’s allergic to flowers.”

“Emerson?” Spencer suggested, his voice growing more uncertain as you began to slowly walk toward him.

“Nope,” you shook your head, a playful glint in your eye. “They have strict rules to follow. This would break a lot of them.”

Spencer swallowed hard, his mind racing as you closed the distance between you. “Then it seems like you have a secret admirer,” he murmured, his voice low and husky.

“I wish I could properly thank them,” you said, your voice just above a whisper as you stopped right in front of him.

Spencer’s breath caught in his throat as he looked down at you, his heart pounding in his chest. “How… how would you thank them? Just so I can pass the word on if I find them,” he asked, his voice barely steady.

You leaned in closer, your lips almost brushing his as you whispered, “I don’t think I can say… it’s explicit.”

His eyes darkened with desire, the playful banter between you intensifying the tension. Spencer’s breath hitched, his mind reeling as he struggled to keep his composure, realizing that perhaps, just perhaps, this night was about to become even more unforgettable.

“Maybe—shit,” Spencer stammered as you began kissing his neck, your hands skillfully unbuttoning his shirt. His words faltered as he tried to maintain the playful charade. “Maybe, if you showed me, I could tell them…”

You pulled back just enough to look him in the eye, a smirk playing on your lips. “Spencer, drop the act, or I’m kicking you out.”

He swallowed hard, his playful facade crumbling under the intensity of the moment. “Yes, ma’am,” he replied, his voice a mix of submission and anticipation.

Spencer leaned down to kiss you, his intentions clear in the warmth of his gaze, but you stepped back just in time, a playful smile dancing on your lips. He paused, momentarily thrown off by your sudden evasion, but then a glint of mischief sparked in his eyes.

You slowly dodged him, weaving around the vases of flowers that filled the room, sneaking glances at him over the tops of the beautiful petals. Each bouquet served as a playful barrier, giving you just enough of an edge to keep him at bay. Spencer, undeterred, followed you with the focused intensity of a predator stalking its prey, his movements deliberate yet light-hearted.

The room was filled with the scent of fresh blooms, but all you could focus on was the chase—the way Spencer’s eyes tracked your every move, the way his playful demeanor had resurfaced after being buried under months of tension. It was as if the playful spirit of your relationship had finally defrosted, melting away the distance that had grown between you.

As you ducked behind a particularly large vase, you caught a glimpse of him moving closer, his eyes locked on yours. He was enjoying the chase, and you could feel the thrill of the game building between you. You darted to the side, but he was faster, anticipating your move and closing the distance.

“Got you,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing as he finally cornered you against the wall, his arms bracketing you in. His smile was wide, his eyes gleaming with triumph as he leaned in close, leaving no more room for escape.

“Promise?” you whispered, your voice barely audible, yet filled with vulnerability. 

Spencer’s eyes softened even more, understanding the weight of that single word. His expression grew serious, all the playfulness giving way to something deeper. He reached up, gently cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin.

“I promise,” he said, his voice steady and sincere. “I won’t let you down again.”

With those words hanging in the air, the distance between you finally closed as Spencer leaned in to kiss you. His lips brushed against yours, soft and tentative at first, as if he was savoring the moment, afraid to rush what felt so fragile. The warmth of his breath mingled with yours, and for a brief second, everything else faded away—the flowers, the room, the world outside—leaving just the two of you, wrapped in intimacy.

As the kiss deepened, the tentative touch gave way to something more urgent, more desperate. Spencer’s hands moved to your waist, pulling you closer, his fingers pressing gently but firmly into your skin as if grounding himself in the reality of you being there, in his arms. You responded in kind, your hands sliding up to tangle in his hair, the soft strands slipping between your fingers as you pressed your body against his, seeking more of the warmth and comfort his presence brought.

The taste of him was intoxicating, a blend of familiarity and longing that you hadn’t realized you’d missed so much. His lips moved with a slow, deliberate rhythm, taking their time to explore every curve and contour of your mouth, as if memorizing the sensation all over again. The kiss was filled with a hunger that had been simmering beneath the surface for so long, now finally unleashed in the safety of this shared moment.

Your breath quickened as the heat between you grew, the banter from earlier now replaced with an intensity that left you both breathless. Spencer’s hands slid up your back, his touch leaving a trail of warmth in its wake as he pressed you against the wall, his body a solid, reassuring presence against yours. 

Every inch of you was aware of him—the way his chest rose and fell with each breath, the subtle tremor in his hands as they roamed your body, the way his lips claimed yours with a possessive need that made your pulse race. The air around you crackled with the electricity of unspoken desires, the kind that had been dormant for far too long.

You felt the world around you blur, your senses overwhelmed by the feel, taste, and scent of him. Spencer’s lips left yours only to travel down your jawline, his breath hot against your skin as he pressed soft, lingering kisses along the sensitive curve of your neck. A shiver ran through you, your body responding instinctively to the sensation, your head tilting slightly to grant him better access. His name slipped from your lips, a breathless whisper that held a world of meaning, of need, of budding trust.

He paused for just a moment, his forehead resting against yours, his breath mingling with yours as you both caught your breath. The look in his eyes was one of pure, unfiltered emotion—love, desire, and a hint of the vulnerability that came with baring one’s soul to another.

“Y/N,” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion, “I need you.”

The simple statement, filled with so much more than just physical desire, resonated deep within you. It wasn’t just about the touch or the kiss—it was about everything you had shared, everything you had lost, and everything you were beginning to find again. In that moment, you knew that this was more than just a kiss—it was a step toward healing, toward rebuilding what had been broken, and toward rediscovering the love that had always been there, just waiting for the right moment to bloom again.

“You have me,” you whispered, your voice steady despite the rush of emotions swirling inside you.

“I do?” Spencer asked, his eyes searching yours, filled with hope and disbelief.

“You do, Spencer,” you affirmed, your words laced with all the sincerity you felt in that moment.

With that, any lingering hesitation vanished. Spencer’s hands, warm and sure, found yours as you both slowly made your way toward the bed. The room seemed to pulse with the energy between you, every step heightening the anticipation that had been building all evening.

As you reached the edge of the bed, Spencer paused, his gaze locking onto yours, his eyes reflecting the depth of what was about to happen. He pulled you close, your bodies fitting together perfectly, and in that moment, it was as if everything fell into place—every word, every gesture, every unspoken promise.

Gently, he guided you down onto the soft sheets, the world narrowing to just the two of you. The mattress dipped slightly under your combined weight, the sensation grounding you both in the reality of this moment. Spencer hovered above you, his hands framing your face as he leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that was both tender and filled with the unspoken vows of what you were rebuilding together.

His lips moved against yours with a slow, deliberate rhythm. His touch was careful, almost reverent, as though he was savoring every second, every sensation. His fingers trailed down the side of your face, brushing over your jawline before gently tracing the curve of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. 

You felt the warmth of his body pressing against yours. The fabric of your clothes created a tantalizing friction between you, the anticipation building with every subtle movement. Spencer’s hand slid down to your waist, his fingertips grazing the sensitive skin just beneath the hem of your shirt, igniting a trail of heat as he slowly lifted the fabric, his touch both hesitant and eager.

As he leaned in closer, his breath ghosted over your skin, leaving a tingling warmth in its wake. The weight of him above you was a comforting reminder of his presence, his body cocooning you in a protective embrace. His lips moved to your jaw, then to the delicate curve of your neck, where he pressed soft, lingering kisses, each one sending a wave of warmth cascading through your body.

You arched slightly beneath him, your hands finding their way to his back, feeling the muscles tense and relax under your touch. Spencer’s hand continued its exploration, moving from your waist to your hip, then down the curve of your thigh, his fingers tracing slow, lazy patterns that left you breathless.

The world outside the room faded away, leaving just the two of you enveloped in this moment of rediscovery. Every touch, every kiss, felt like a promise—of forgiveness, of healing, of a love that had been tested but refused to break. Spencer’s eyes met yours, a silent question lingering in them, and when you nodded, he smiled—a tender, genuine smile that spoke of the hope you both held for what lay ahead.

His lips found yours again, and this time the kiss was deeper, more urgent, as if you were both trying to make up for lost time. The intensity of the moment wrapped around you both like a warm embrace, pulling you closer, dissolving any remaining doubts.

The soft fabric of your clothes slowly gave way under his touch, his hands sliding beneath to explore the warmth of your skin. Every brush of his fingers sent a wave of sensation coursing through you, heightening the anticipation that had been building between you.

You arched into him, your breath hitching as his lips trailed down your neck, leaving a heated path in their wake. His name escaped your lips in a breathless whisper, urging him on as he continued his slow, deliberate exploration. The way he touched you, the way he kissed you, was as though he was rediscovering every part of you, savoring the familiarity and the newfound intensity that came with the rekindling of your connection.

Your hands found their way to the buttons of his shirt you never got to finish undoing, your fingers trembling slightly with the urgency of your desire. As you worked to undo them, Spencer’s lips moved lower, his breath warm against your skin, each kiss igniting a deeper longing within you. The fabric of his shirt slipped off his shoulders, revealing the familiar contours of his chest, his skin warm and inviting under your touch.

With a gentle but insistent push, Spencer guided you back down onto the sheets, his body hovering over yours, the weight of him pressing into you in a way that made your heart race. His eyes met yours, and for a moment, everything else fell away—there was just you, him, and the intense connection that pulsed between you.

His lips found yours once more, the kiss growing more heated, more insistent, as the boundaries between you blurred. His hand slid down your body, tracing familiar paths with a renewed intensity. When he reached your core, his touch was confident, knowing exactly how to apply just the right amount of pressure, a skill only a lover who truly knows your body could master.

A soft moan escaped your lips as Spencer’s fingers continued to work their magic, the sensations sending shivers of pleasure coursing through you. His mouth moved from your lips to your chest, leaving a trail of heated kisses down to your nipples. His breath was warm against your skin, each exhale sending a new wave of anticipation through your body. Your hands roamed over his back, fingers digging in slightly as the intensity of the moment built between you.

Spencer’s touch was both firm and gentle, guiding you through waves of pleasure with an ease that spoke to the depth of your connection. Every movement was purposeful, designed to bring you closer to that edge, yet slow enough to savor each moment. He was meticulous, attentive, ensuring that your every reaction was met with just the right response.

The rhythm between you was perfect, a dance of mutual desire and trust. As you moved together, the sensations intensified, each one drawing you closer to the brink. Spencer’s name slipped from your lips in a breathy whisper, a sound that spurred him on, his own need mirrored in your eyes.

Finally, when the tension became too much to bear, you let go, surrendering to the flood of sensations that washed over you. Spencer kept his rhythm steady, guiding you through the waves of pleasure until you began to shake, your body trembling from the intensity. When you pushed his hand away, overwhelmed by the sensations, he relented, his touch immediately softening.

“Spencer…” you looked up at him with desperation in your eyes, your voice breathless, “please.”

He gazed down at you, his expression softening with affection and understanding. “Okay, baby. I got you,” he whispered, his voice soothing, full of promise.

“I know,” you replied, your trust in him evident in those two simple words.

Spencer smiled at you, the warmth in his eyes reflecting the deep connection between you. He leaned down, brushing a tender kiss against your lips before positioning himself. His movements were deliberate, careful, as he lined himself up with you, ensuring that you were both ready for what came next.

The anticipation hung heavy in the air as he entered you slowly, each inch sending a new wave of sensation through your body. He paused for a moment, allowing you both to adjust to the feeling, before he began to move with a steady, unhurried rhythm. Every thrust was measured, deliberate, as if he wanted to savor every second of being with you in this way.

Your hands found their way to his back, your nails digging in slightly as he picked up the pace, the urgency between you building once more. The sounds of your breathless moans and his deep groans filled the room, blending with the scent of flowers and the lingering intimacy that wrapped around you both.

With every movement, Spencer's focus was entirely on you—on your pleasure, your needs. He watched your reactions closely, his gaze never leaving your face as he adjusted his rhythm to match what you needed. His own pleasure was secondary, a distant thought compared to the overwhelming desire to see you completely fulfilled.

Spencer’s name slipped from your lips in breathless whispers, the sound fueling his determination to bring you as much pleasure as possible. His touch was both gentle and firm, knowing exactly when to push you further and when to hold back, drawing out the moment, making it last.

As the tension built once more, you could feel the waves of pleasure building inside you, Spencer’s steady rhythm guiding you to the brink. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, a gesture that was both intimate and grounding, reminding you that he was right there with you, sharing in every moment. 

When the release finally came, it was overwhelming, a powerful surge of sensation that left you breathless and trembling in his arms. Spencer helped you through it, his movements gentle and reassuring as he guided you down from the heights of pleasure as he held you close, as if you were the most precious thing in his world.

His own release followed soon after, his grip on you tightening as he surrendered to the overwhelming sensations. The sound of his ragged breathing filled the room, mingling with your own as you both rode out the waves of pleasure together.

In the quiet aftermath, Spencer pulled you close, wrapping his arms around you in a protective embrace. Your heart beats slowly returned to normal, the world around you gradually coming back into focus. The room was filled with the scent of flowers, the warmth of your shared intimacy, and the comforting presence of the person who knew you better than anyone else.

Spencer’s fingers traced lazy patterns on your back, his touch soothing and gentle. “Are you okay?” he whispered, his voice soft, full of concern and love.

“I’m not sure,” you teased, a smile playing on your lips. “I don’t think I can feel my legs.”

Spencer groaned, a flush of mild embarrassment coloring his cheeks. “Y/N…”

You laughed softly, the sound light and free. “I’m okay, Spencer. Really. Are you?”

He looked down at you, his eyes warm and filled with a contentment that made your heart swell. “I’m happy,” he said simply, his voice carrying the weight of everything he couldn’t quite put into words.

Your heart soared at his confession, a wave of warmth spreading through you. “Me too,” you whispered, feeling a deep sense of peace settle over you.

And for the first time in what felt like too goddamn long, you fell asleep in Spencer’s arms, your bodies intertwined, the world outside fading away as you drifted off into a restful, contented sleep.

—

Spencer did have to return home, and you had to move on to your next tour location, but neither of you parted without lingering kisses and heartfelt promises. 

Standing at the door of your hotel room, Spencer pulled you close, his hands gently cradling your face as he pressed one last, tender kiss to your lips. The moment was bittersweet, filled with the knowledge that your paths would diverge once more, but also with the hope that this wasn’t goodbye.

“See you later,” he murmured against your lips, his voice full of sincerity.

“See you later,” you echoed, your hands clutching at his shirt, reluctant to let go.

With one final embrace, Spencer slowly pulled away, his fingers trailing down your arm as if he couldn’t bear to break the connection entirely. He gave you a soft smile, one that spoke of the unspoken feelings still lingering between you, before turning to leave.

As you watched him walk away, your heart felt lighter, knowing that this was just a temporary farewell. There was a quiet confidence in the promise you had made to each other—a promise that despite the distance, you would find your way back to one another. And as you prepared to move on to your next tour location, you carried that promise with you, feeling more connected to Spencer than ever before.

—

November, 2008

“Y/N, how would you feel about taking a break between the next two stops?” Dylan suggested casually, though his tone held a hint of something more.

You immediately perked up, curiosity and concern flashing across your face. “Why? Did something happen?”

“No, nothing like that,” Dylan reassured you with a warm smile. “You’ve just been working so hard, and there’s a scheduled two-week break where you don’t have any obligations.”

“Seriously? How did that happen?” you asked, surprised and a bit skeptical. It wasn’t like your schedule to have such a gap.

Dylan chuckled, his eyes twinkling with affection. “Because your assistant loves you and wants to make sure you stay healthy.”

Your face lit up with gratitude. “I love you too. There’s really a whole two weeks of nothing?”

“Well, not nothing,” Dylan laughed. “I still need you back for sound checks before your next show. And at least one or two posts each week.”

“Deal,” you agreed without hesitation, excitement bubbling up inside you. “When can I leave?”

“After tonight,” he replied with a grin, knowing exactly where your mind was headed.

Without thinking, you ran over to Dylan and planted a big, affectionate smooch on his head, overwhelmed with gratitude. You hadn’t seen Spencer since Amsterdam—two long months filled with phone calls and texts that were nice but could never quite fill the void. It was hard, and you couldn’t lie to yourself about that. You missed him, missed the way he made you feel when you were together.

And Spencer? He was trying his best to be patient, reminding himself that you were busy, that you were on another continent, and that the occasional game of phone tag had nothing to do with how you felt about him. But it was tough, and he was counting the days until he could hold you again.

As you packed up your things, the thought of seeing Spencer after so long filled you with a renewed energy. The anticipation of being together again, even if just for a short time, made the time apart seem worth it. And you knew that the moment you were back in his arms, everything would feel right again.

—

You knew Spencer wasn’t on a case—he always made sure to tell you when one came in, just in case you needed to reach him and he was unavailable. So, without hesitation, you booked a flight to New York. You barely had time to drop off your things, shower, and repack before you were on a train heading to Virginia, your heart racing with anticipation.

Spencer wasn’t expecting anyone when he heard a knock on his front door. He approached with caution, wondering who could be visiting at this hour. But when he opened the door, his breath caught in his throat.

“Y/N??” he exclaimed, his eyes widening in surprise.

“Boo,” you said playfully, a grin spreading across your face.

Without a second thought, Spencer opened the door all the way and pulled you into a tight hug, the relief and joy in his embrace unmistakable. “What are you doing here?”

“Came to see my favorite genius,” you replied, your voice muffled slightly against his chest.

“But you’re on tour,” he said, pulling back just enough to look at you, concern and confusion etched on his face.

“Oh yeah, I quit. Canceled everything,” you said nonchalantly, trying to keep a straight face.

“What?? You can’t do that! Your fans! Your—” Spencer began to panic, but the sight of your teasing smile stopped him mid-sentence.

“I’m kidding, Spence,” you laughed, lightly tapping his chest. “Dylan scheduled me for a break.” You bit your lip, smiling up at him with excitement and mischief.

“How long do I have you for?” he asked, his voice softening as he searched your eyes.

“Forever? Hopefully,” you teased, but there was a sincerity in your tone that made Spencer’s heart swell.

“Y/N…” Spencer was speechless, overwhelmed by the sight of you standing there, in his doorway, after so long. He was so, so in love.

“Just under two weeks,” you added, your smile growing as you saw the love and happiness in his eyes.

“That’s more than I could’ve hoped for,” he whispered, pulling you back into his arms, holding you as if he never wanted to let go. And in that moment, with you in his arms, the world felt perfect once again.

—

While Spencer was at work, he recommended that you read a book he loved, something to keep you occupied while he was away. With nothing else on your agenda, you decided to take him up on the suggestion and finally had a chance to relax. Settling into a comfortable spot, you cracked open the book, curious to see what had captured Spencer’s heart.

As the hours passed, you became completely engrossed in the story, savoring every word. It was a romance novel, something you hadn’t expected from Spencer, but it touched you deeply. The characters’ journey mirrored so many of your own emotions, their struggles and triumphs in love resonating with everything you and Spencer had gone through.

When you finally turned over the last page, satisfied yet yearning for more, you noticed something scrawled in messy pen on the inside of the back cover. Your heart skipped a beat as you began to read the familiar handwriting.

My love—

Words will never be able to capture how truly sorry I am for everything I have done, for everything I have put you through. I am beyond grateful you gave me a second chance, not just with you, but at happiness, fulfillment, and love. I love you. There is only one piece missing now from our ever-evolving puzzle.

Will you be my girlfriend?

Sincerely, your desperately in love, Spencer

Tears welled up in your eyes as you reread the note, the sincerity and vulnerability in his words hitting you right in the heart. You couldn’t help but smile through the tears, your heart swelling with love for the man who had poured his emotions onto the page, who had been brave enough to ask you for a second chance at happiness.

When Spencer returned home that evening, you didn’t wait for him to ask how the book was. You simply walked up to him, holding the book in your hands, and wrapped your arms around him, burying your face in his chest.

“Is that a yes?” Spencer asked softly, his voice full of hope and love as he held you close.

You looked up at him, your eyes still glistening with tears but your smile radiant. “Of course it’s a yes, Spencer,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “I would love to be your girlfriend.”

And in that moment, surrounded by the warmth of his embrace, you knew that this was just the beginning of a new, beautiful piece in your love story.

—

Bonus

“Billie, this is Spencer. Spencer, this is Billie,” you said, introducing the two with a warm smile.

Billie smiled at Spencer, her eyes curious as she took him in. “Hey, nice to finally meet you! I’ve heard a lot about you,” she said, her tone friendly and genuine.

Spencer returned the smile. “Likewise. It’s great to meet you too, Billie. Y/N’s told me a lot about you as well.”

Billie chuckled, glancing at you with a playful grin. “All good things, I hope?”

“Only the best,” Spencer replied, his gaze shifting to you with a fondness that didn’t go unnoticed.

You couldn’t help but smile at the easy exchange, relieved that two of the most important people in your life were finally meeting. The moment felt natural, like two pieces of your world finally clicking into place.

“So, Spencer… you thought I was Phoebe Bridgers?” Billie asked with a teasing grin, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

Spencer’s cheeks flushed slightly, but he managed a sheepish smile. “In my defense, the photo was pretty blurry,” he replied, his tone light but sincere.

Billie laughed, shaking her head. “Well, I’ll take that as a compliment. But I’m glad we’ve cleared that up.”

“Only a year or so too late, but he just upgraded his prescription,” you teased, flashing Spencer a playful grin.

Spencer chuckled, shaking his head. “Better late than never, right?”

Billie laughed along, the lighthearted banter putting everyone at ease. “Well, I’m glad you can see things clearly now,” she joked, giving you a wink. 

“Did she just wink at you?” Spencer asked, his voice a mix of playful suspicion and amusement.

“Spencer!” you groaned, laughing as you nudged him lightly. “Don’t start!”

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

tag list <333 @spencerreidsreads @sapph1re @idefktbh17 @dirtytissuebox @yokaimoon @reggieswriter @loumouse @mentallyunwellsposts @time-himself @chaneladdicted @kathrynlakestone @furrybouquettrash @hearts4spensco @gilwm @khxna @charismatic-writer @lilu842 @greatoperawombategg @noelliece

[tojiwrd]

6: fate is fickle ; gojo satoru

pairing gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary when satoru breaks off your engagement, you understand and accept it. but when he marries someone else, you don't understand because he didn't want to be tied down.

content warnings mentions toxic family, mentions of forced marriage, emotional infidelity, lots of crying, drama drama drama, confrontation, lots of reminiscing. also not proofread so im sorry for any mistakes !!

word count 4k

a/n sorry for late update lomls my gojo fate is fickle ver. came back into my life after three years of silence so this is chapter is coming straight from my bones guysssss . also i am so so so grateful for the support on this fic, genuinely makes me so happy i love u guys sm thank you SO much !! <3 also credit to the person of the art!! i can't find their name so if anyone knows then lmk <3

send thoughts ↞ prev next ↠ to be added to taglist

Gojo Satoru didn’t get on one knee and ask to marry you. He did it when the two of you were in the apartment he bought just a few months prior, laying on the bed as the small opening of the curtains let a thin stream of silver streams in. It wasn’t that he wasn’t prepared because when he slipped the question while the two of you were facing one another, a hint of sleep heavy on the eyes on his moon-kissed face, he backed it up with the ring he’d carefully tucked away in his sweatpants. You swore your cheeks were hinting a fresh glow for the next week.

Maybe it was dumb to think you and Satoru, only twenty-five, would’ve worked out when he proposed on a random Sunday in bed. It did seem dumb, though, while you sat across Hana who was relaying her own proposal story. You’d tuned it out, not wanting to hear her drone on about how it was the most perfect, breathtaking moment when he got on one knee at a rooftop restaurant. You didn’t want to be there, partially because you truly felt as though Hana was painting Satoru out into someone he wasn’t, and partially because you were human and humans tend to get jealous sometimes. 

It was meant to be a simple brunch with ten people, friends of friends of friends. You had Reina right next to you, Reina, whose eyes were continuously twitching as Hana would relearn a new moment from that picture-perfect night and feel the need to share it with everyone on the table. You could also see some of your own friends who were aware of yours and Satoru’s relationship look at her, then you, with furrowed brows. Hers mostly out of confusion, and at you to ask why the fuck are you quiet?

“Ugh!” One of the girls, Jia, exclaimed as Hana finally seemed to get to the end of her engagement story. “I wish I had someone like Gojo Satoru; all these men are so unromantic and act like genuine children.”

Truthfully, if Satoru wasn’t your ex-fiancee, you would be on the same boat as the girls who were unaware of your past relationship. Hana’s story, from the pieces you forced yourself to hear, was dreamlike. A small part of you wanted to tell her that her romantic and unchildlike husband had proposed to her, too, right after he’d done some other things that would end that conversation immediately. But you didn’t because it wasn’t Hana’s fault, even though your mind kept putting some blame on her, that Satoru broke it off with you.

“I hope all of you find somebody like Satoru. He truly is the best,” Hana replied dreamily. 

You clenched your fists. Reina slammed hers on the table. 

“You’re so delusional, Hana, it’s concerning.” You wanted to raise your arms and pull Reina down and ask her to shut up. To not cause a scene. But Hana looked at Reina, a confused, concerningly kind expression covering her features and you realized there lived a monster in you that wanted to see Gojo Hana crumble. “Don’t look at me all coy, high, and mighty. You don’t know shit about your husband. Why don’t you skip over these semantics and really tell them the only reason the two of you got married was because your parents forced you to?”

You delighted in the flash of anger that slid across Hana’s face as she pursed her lips, trying to find the right words. You leaned back and stared, an uncharacteristically numb look covering your features. This, a part of you realized, might be detracking you from your healing process but it was fun.

Hana looked around the table and noticed how all eyes were fixed on her figure. If there was one thing you’d learned from girls' brunches, it was that everybody loved when it blew over and left one or many people scathed. She sputtered over her words, the tangle coming out completely incomprehensible and you almost felt bad. Almost felt bad because it wasn’t expected of her to admit to a whole group of socialites that the marriage to the Gojo heir wasn’t out of love, but out of an arrangement that went in their favor. If you were in her place, you, too, would’ve waxed poetic about your marriage because if the truth would bring the palpable exciting energy down, you would feel bad.

“Perhaps it was suggested by our parents,” she started, glaring at Reina with faux sweetness. “But it was only because our parents saw how in love we seemed with each other.”

You tried to hold yourself back but it was just so simple for you to scoff at her words. When Reina looked at you, a sheen of anger coating her eyes, you pushed yourself to talk. “It’s not love if he cheated on someone with you.”

You had thought about this moment before; you’d wondered if, were you to ever meet Hana again, you would drop the ticking time bomb in her presence that might either blow up her entire marriage or just cause a small blip in the working systems of it. But saying it now, after hearing her say all Satoru had said about you was that your fathers worked together, felt completely underwhelming. Though the shoe was dropped and it was clear everybody managed to get a small tatters of it to whisper about with other people, it felt wrong. Wrong because the way Hana looked at you, eyes brimmed with tears and brows coming together in sadness, you had most likely broken a piece of her.

She gulped then cleared her throat. “Can—Can we talk outside? Alone?” she asked and, without sparing a glance at anybody on the table except for you and Reina, she walked to the sliding doors of the restaurant and into the glaring sun above. 

Reina placed her hand on your forearm and said, “Come on, let’s go.” It was surprising to see a miniscule hint of guilt on her features, and you realized you had to have the conversation. 

Hana had most likely heard the clicking of yours and Reina’s heels because she didn’t turn back to face the two of you. “I know you and Satoru had something going on.”

You froze, stunned and silent. 

“I had heard from my mother that you both were in a relationship. He never mentioned it to me, though, and I didn’t mention it, either.” She turned around, eyes wide as she looked down and shuffled her feet in anxiousness. “I don’t know how it ended or when it ended, but I thought when he—he finally acknowledged there was something between us, the two of you were over. I didn’t want to know. We did get married because our fathers told us to, but I wasn’t lying when I said he was sweet and caring.” Her stare burned you like a billion matches. There was truth in her words, you knew—

“You homewrecking bitch!” Reina’s voice cut off your train of thought as she walked towards Hana, an accusatory finger pointed in her direction. Once again, you didn’t stop her even though you probably should’ve. “If you knew he was in a relationship, how could you even think of flirting with him? They were engaged. God! I swear, both you and Gojo are two peas in the same pod. You deserve each other.” Her words were also ringing through your head and there was confusion bubbling up within the same pot as growing anger. 

“Why’d you pretend not to know when we saw you at the club?” you asked, finding your voice again, in a calm tone that surprised you, too. 

Hana shook her head. Her face had curled up into fury, and you wondered if her nice, docile, angel-sent-from-above personality was a card she held up her sleeve the entire time. “I didn’t care. I didn’t want to know because Satoru was mine—is mine. You weren’t a part of his life anymore, so I didn’t want to add any worries that were misplaced.”

You wondered if you should tell her that Satoru had tried reaching out to you at Suguru’s gallery. 

“If he had told me he was with you, I wouldn’t have tried anything with him.”

You were sure you had moved past everything. 

After more than a year of avoiding any fire from your past with Satoru, the past two weeks had been filled to the brim with situations revolving around him. It was easy to ignore what you had with Satoru when he seemed like a distant memory and then a mere ghost in your thoughts. But when he’s insistent on giving you answers you never asked for, answers you didn’t want to know, and his wife had made an appearance that caused your brain to run without stopping, it was difficult to treat him the way you had. 

No matter how much you wanted to ignore everything and reset your brain back to its default settings, you couldn’t when the world was caving in on you and reality seeped through its cracks to light a bright, pertinent light in front of your eyes. You hated Gojo Satoru with every inch of your bones, but you were never truly able to forget just Satoru himself.

Your mind had an interesting way to deal with the pile of information dropped onto your shoulders. You should’ve been reliving how Satoru made your blood boil when he got engaged with Hana, how he carelessly broke your heart because he began falling for somebody else, somebody brand new while he was taking space on your bed every night. You should’ve been, but you weren’t. 

‘A relationship broken is always a relationship that could’ve been,’ is what you’d read once graffitied onto a brick wall you were leaning against with Satoru once in the middle of the bustling city streets. You’d pointed it out, he’d agreed. He’d agreed. You wish he hadn’t because there was a fragment of you that wished he remembered those words now. The devilish part of you wished that’s what he remembered, recounted abruptly while he was sleeping next to his wife. 

You wished he’d think of the could’ve been’s instead of the measly fears he told you about at the gallery. 

You also wish you had those fears, too. You loved Satoru to a point that he was in everything you did; your clothes smelt like his detergent because you would always take your laundry to his house for the weekends. The lamp next to your bed had his bracelet wrapped around it because he thought it was too loose on his wrist and he’d lose it. You would always accidentally call him because his contact was on your home screen, causing you to press on it when you were scrolling (he always picked up and he always talked to you for hours after, making you forget why you had opened your phone in the first place). The tattoo, a small design of baby’s breaths, on your hip reminded you of how he had held your hand through the pain. 

You knew Satoru’s dreams. You knew Satoru’s biggest fears. So, why did he never tell you the fears he had for the two of you?

As soon as the thought hit your mind, it was followed by you harshly reprimanding yourself by reminding you that it was because he was getting excited over someone else’s calls, someone else’s dreams.

“Y/N, honey.” You heard your mother’s voice call from your ajar bedroom door before she hesitantly stepped in, heel-clad feet grazing over the off-white floor with footsteps following behind her. “Your friend from the gallery here to see you.”

You knew exactly who she was talking about which is why you raised slightly from your bed, a panicked look in your eyes, and only began pleading with her to tell him you weren’t here. Before you could even utter a complete, coherent sentence, Suguru had walked in with his head down and your mother simply walked out of the door, sparing you a sad smile. She didn’t know any of what had happened, but she most likely sensed it wasn’t anything worth toasting to after seeing Suguru’s mood and your reaction. 

“Please, Suguru.” Your voice wobbled, a slight hiccup in your words because this was too much. Even though Suguru was somewhere on the top of your least-favorite people list at the moment, he didn’t deserve to see you get angry at him without having control over your words. “Leave.”

“Listen, listen, Y/N. I just… I heard some stuff and I needed to check on you.” His words were hesitant, as if he’d rehearsed them but had changed the script at the last minute. He walked closer to your bed and you couldn’t find the words to ask him to leave. “Hana told me—”

You snorted, cutting him off. “Hana told you what? That I ended her perfect, dreamy image of her marriage in public? Are you here to—what? Reprimand me? Tell me I was wrong—”

“Fuck, no. Stop, just for one second.”

You did stop because Suguru seemed more tense than you knew what to do with. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry, Y/N.”

You stared at him, unblinking. “What do you want me to say?”

“Nothing, nothing,” he quickly addressed, his body finding its way to the edge of your bed. “I want to say I’m sorry, and you don’t have to accept it. I was wrong—I realize that now but… I was scared, Y/N.”

“Scared of what? I wouldn’t have been any worse if you’d just told me what you knew, Suguru. You hid it from me when you saw how I was going insane the month after the breakup.”

“I was scared of this. How you’ve been feeling since Satoru told you the truth himself.” You couldn’t reply to that. “But I want to tell you that even though I hadn’t told you about it, I did let Satoru know really well what he did was wrong. Not that it’s any better, but I never supported what he did. I—I couldn’t stop him from marrying her because… well, because he’s Satoru. I shouldn’t have assumed you were okay, especially not after finding out about Hana after three months. But I thought you were and—I don’t know, I wasn’t thinking straight.

But I heard from Hana earlier today about what had happened at brunch. She said she was scared Satoru would find out what she said and I—I have no idea why she trusted me with that information. I’m not friends with her. I don’t know why she told me.”

You took in a deep breath processing all the information Suguru kept on dropping. “I’m not telling Satoru anything.”

“But she—”

“She nothing. I don’t want to hear it, Suguru. Whatever she did, even if she actively tried to sabotage me and Satoru, it was on him that he let her.” Your phone lit up from beside you and you glanced at the time, internally thanking whoever controlled it for the real excuse to kick him out of your house. “I have plans with Kento. You need to leave now, actually.”

You didn’t miss the way Suguru’s face flashed with a hint of disappointment at your words. 

Kento Nanami wasn’t understanding—not truly—which is why you were surprised that halfway through your date, when you told him you had to talk to Satoru, he understood. He walked you out of the restaurant, a calm, unwavering hand on your back and told you that no matter what happened, he’d be there by your side. 

And though you knew you had people by your side, you really couldn’t remember who and felt a flutter in your chest. 

By the time you reached Satoru’s (and Hana’s) apartment, the urge and confidence you felt when you came up with your plan ebbed away into pieces and left you lying there in a situation you weren’t sure you could face. You raised your hand up to press a finger against the doorbell regardless, trying to force away the thought that you would see the apartment you helped him move into and decorate. You briefly, for a second, wondered if he had changed it. You also wondered if it would hurt to see the small paintings you’d bought as a present for his new apartment not be in the spots of the wall Satoru put you on his shoulders to pin.

When the door opened, you were met with the same eyes that had haunted your dreams and nightmares. His mouth opened, wide enough for a fly to fly into, then he schooled his features into mere curiosity. You realized that you were the one that sought him out this time, you were the one who dropped in unannounced at his house, which meant you should speak. 

“I need to talk to you.” And frankly, at that moment, you didn’t care if Hana was lurking behind him and able to hear you initiate a conversation with her husband. That was what he was: her husband before your ex-fiance.

He breathed out and shook his head as if willing himself to speak, too. “Yes. Yeah. Come in, Y/N.”

And you did. You saw the walls, the paintings, the small hearts on the corner of the dining table you drew with a sharpie, the couch you picked out, and even the necklace you had forgotten that peeked from under his coat on the coat hanger. You didn’t comment on it, though. 

“Do you want water? Tea? Liquor?” 

You almost laughed at the anxiousness in his voice. “I’m good. This won’t take long.”

Satoru’s expression was what you could confidently call crestfallen, and he didn’t try to hide it this time. You forced yourself not to think about it. You merely went down to the couch in his living room that you picked out and placed yourself on the left corner because you always used to sit on the right. It helped you see the TV better. 

“She isn’t home.” You knew who he meant by ‘she.’

“Goj—Satoru, I need you to do something,” you said, unsure of how to start it off. In all fairness, you hadn’t prepared what you were going to say, it was just a messed up, jumbled backbone of stuff that you knew you had to tell him.

His reply was instant. “Anything.”

“I need you to not feel guilty or—I don’t know, keep feeling guilty but just keep it to yourself, okay?” You sounded like you were talking like a preschooler, and it wasn’t much different because Satoru looked at you with the hopeful eyes a kid has before you reject their wishes. But Satoru wasn’t a kid, Satoru was a man who made poor choices and hurt someone by doing something unexcusable, and that made it okay to tell him to stop. 

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t talk to me. If we’re in the same place, don’t talk to me. Don’t ask me not to hate you. Don’t tell me you regret what you did to me.”

It hurt to break your heart by your own words. 

“Y/N, don’t do this,” he trailed off, eyes wide and filled with fear now. “Please.”

“Stop.” Your own eyes brimmed with tears you weren’t going to shed. It was fine dealing with Satoru when he tried to talk to you, but doing it on your own terms gave you an inexplicable feeling of sadness you hadn’t expected. “You’re being selfish.”

“No. How…”

“You take when you want, Satoru. You know more than anybody else that I loved you and lost myself when I couldn’t. You were there that night in the car, holding me when I cried when you left me. You left me!” you exclaimed, pointing your index in his direction that would’ve jabbed him in the face if he wasn’t further away. “You were there even after you left me. You’re there now, making me all confused and angry, when you know you can’t give me anything. You don’t have any intention of being somebody I need in my life, so leave. Make this easier for me and leave. Let me live my life while you live yours.”

He had shifted down the couch, and though he was still not too close, it felt too close. 

“Don’t—fuck, don’t say that, love. Please. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

You flailed your arms in the air, his words not helping your case at all. “You can be sorry a million times over, but what’s done is done. You can’t… Fuck, Satoru. You can’t do this.”

A moment passed. Then another. He placed his head in his hands, facing ahead while you faced his shaking body. 

“I love you,” he said, and you were lost. 

“Don’t do this to your wife, Satoru. You love her. You’re supposed to love her. Don’t do this to someone else.”

“I love you,” he repeated, his eyes now looking into yours with a familiar fire of determination. “You know that, right? You know that I love you?” His words broke out into a sob that ripped directly from his scratchy throat. “Tell me you know that.”

“Then please leave. Don’t show up. Stop showing up, and stop explaining something that can’t be understood.”

And when Satoru placed a hand on your cheek, you didn’t push it away because you saw that previous fire dwindle within a second. He tugged his lower lip between his teeth as he scanned your warm face, your glassy eyes, and he noticed how you were shivering under his touch. You didn’t push it away because Satoru might’ve been selfish, but you were, too. And you would inhale the embers of him before they turned into ash.

“You want this?” he asked, but you could see he knew the answer. You didn’t reply. He continued, “I’ll leave you alone, if that’s what you want. But—But I want you to know I wanted it to be you. When Hana walked down the aisle, I thought of you. I wish you’d come. I would’ve never said ‘I do.’ I swear. I’m sorry I fucked up—I fucked us up. I got carried away and…”

You smiled sadly. “Don’t do that to her. You have a chance at being happy, Satoru. Don’t ever do what you did to me again.”

“Do you?” he asked.

“Do I what?”

“Have that chance at being happy?”

You thought about the question and Kento’s name flashed in your mind. It might have been small compared to the colossal amounts of feelings you felt with Satoru back then, but it was something. Even though you didn’t shake under Kento’s touch or feel your stomach turning upside down everytime he smiled at you, you felt safe and you knew that if you could stay, Kento would stay, too. 

“I do.”

He inhaled a sharp breath, a single tear falling from his eye. “Is it wrong that I still wish it was me?”

You wanted to say no, it isn’t because a part of me wishes it was you, too. You didn’t. 

He continued, “I can’t let you go, Y/N.” 

Another tear, then another, till they continued streaming down his face. You couldn’t stop them. You couldn’t react to them. Not even when he took his hand away from your face to messily wipe them away between sobs and hiccups. 

“You said you didn’t deserve me, and you were right. Remember that.”

And even though a larger part of you didn’t want to leave, you left, afraid that you might end up entangling yourself in his arms to cry with him. To get one taste of his lips for the last time before deciding to fuck it all and make one kiss more. To hold onto him for longer, forever. You left because you weren’t sure you could tell Satoru to leave again. You thought you still loved Satoru just not in the way you used to. But when you saw him pleading for nothing because there was no good outcome for the two of you, you realized you might still love Satoru the way you used to, just less and concealed by the hurt. You would’ve chosen all the bad outcomes and then some more if you stayed a minute longer.

[wonton4rang]

i freaking love your writing aaaa 🫶🫶

im kinda biased here but leehan doing sumn under the table or blanket and continuing conversation like the menace that he is 🤭

also rlly honored to have been ur first ask 😚

stoooooppp, you're so nice :(( i'm glad that you like my writing and tysm for being my first ask, it was greatly appreciated <33

and you are not biased !!! i am honestly the same so we are kinda sharing one braincell tbh, the leehan brainrot is rEAL. hope you like this!

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i feel like it would happen when you too are hanging out with the other guys, you dressed up so prettily since it was a big night for sungho, he just got that promotion that he wanted for years. it was a celebration! but leehan just couldn't wrap his mind over the fact that YOU had to dress SO cute AND hot when sungho was nothing more than a friend of YOUR boyfriend leehan. was he jealous? yes. not because he saw sungho as a menace but more because everyone was looking at you whenever you laughed or said the most basic things, being pretty obvious that they just found you as beautiful as he did. but what actually made him grin a little bit with disbelief was the way you tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear and looked down while laughing, were you really flirting back? "y/n, what's up with you?" he whispered to your ear, his right arm grapped around your waist before you asked him what he meant "what's so funny about what riwoo said?" you were not stupid, not even a little bit, so you backed up to look into his eyes, suddenly all the fun left your body when you were just met by his blank stare. "he has a great sense of humour, baby, nothing personal" excuses was all leehan heard coming out your mouth so he just ignored your words, his free left hand (that was not around your waist) going up your tight instead and making you panic when he looked back to the front, joining the conversation with the boys while his fingers dangerously ghosted the front of your underwear. and he was kinda rough the moment he threw your panties aside and entered a finger without warning. "fuck, leehan" you called under your breath so the others couldn't hear you but leehan ignored you again and just moved his finger, joining another one after a few seconds; it was so embarrassing to be feeling this good while your boyfriend fingered you right in front of his friends, just under the table, the blanket being the only thing keeping the obscene action covered as the table was made of glass. "stop it" your hand went to grab his but you wished you didn't say or did anything when he finally payed attention to you again. "did you say something, baby?" he would ask you, accelerating the movement of his fingers, not being in and out but now just curling them up inside of your cunt. "guys, i think y/n wants to say something" you just couldn't believe it, he was such a bitch, such a tease, and well shit, you were up for the challenge. your pussy clenched around his fingers and your cheeks flushed when he laughed at you being so nervous, and how could you not be when all the other boys were looking at you in expectation. "c'mon, baby, tell sungho what you wanted to say" leehan better sleeps with an eye open from now on, his fingers not stopping at all when you tried to gain composure and smiled to the party boy "i'm so happy you g-got this promotion, sungho, you definitely deserv-" but your words got lost when your boyfriend got his finger's pace faster inside of you "you deserve it, congratulations" and you thanked god for letting you finish that sentence without moaning in front of all of them, certainly traumatizing woonhak if it happened. the boy sitting next to you just removed his fingers from your pussy and laughed a bit at how wet you were and the pout you made by not being able to come, he leaned in to your ear and whispered "next time you make me feel like this i'll vent you over the table and fuck you in front of them" you were kinda mad, yes, but tbh your pussy throbbed at the thought. maybe leehan wasn't the only one that was kinda crazy.

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and there goes again another leehan thought again of my system, it's like a plague, they just keep coming back 😭

[eilishalways]

Hiii! So i see that you are taking requests, would you mind writing about billie being jelous? Thanks 😊

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

are you… jealous?

summary: billie gets jealous of your date, and decides to crash it.

warnings: none i think? tell me if i missed any!

a/n: ofc!! AAAAA MY FIRST REQUEST IM SO HAPPY

“and she’s taking me out for dinner tonight as well! isn’t that so sweet of her?” you said into the phone, waiting on billie’s response. billie sighed, but you didn’t hear. “yeah, that sounds nice,” she said, hiding her displeasure at the news, “what restaurant is it?” “it’s a surprise, apparently.” you giggled. “look, uh- i’ve got to go. talk soon?” billie said abruptly. “oh, ok. talk to you soon billie!”

billie hung up and put her phone down on her pillow. “why not me?” she said out loud, “why that girl? i could treat y/n way better.” you had just gotten back with your ex two weeks ago. the girl had cheated on you and broke your heart, but came crawling back to you once the girl she had cheated with dumped her. billie had voiced her concerns when you told her, but you had refused to listen to her, saying that the girl had changed.

after about twenty minutes of scrolling through instagram, billie got a notification that you had gone live. she switched to her secret account and joined it. you were just chatting to your fans, nothing special. but billie stayed, hopeful for any information about your date. she watched you reply to comments your fans, smiling as you laughed. one fan then asked you about your love life, and billie knew she had to pay full attention now.

“what’s my love life like? well…” you started, “i actually have a date tonight! how about you guys help me choose what i wear?” you asked the viewers, hit with instant replies of “YESSS!!”. you beamed, and said you’d be back in a second before running to your wardrobe, which was off camera. you came back with a few different options, and showed them to the camera. the viewers, including billie, cast their vote. the overwhelming majority was option 2, a red minidress. you thanked your fans, and soon got back to chatting to them. billie stayed til the ends of live, and when you turned it off, billie put her phone down and sighed yet again. she lamented how jealous she was, wishing it was her taking you out on a date, not that horrible ex of yours. and soon, a plan came to mind.

“thank you for doing this, zoe.” billie said, smiling at her friend. zoe smiled back, “no bother.” she said. billie had managed to find out what restaurant you were at by looking at some photos you had posted from inside the restaurant and some other stalking she did. she entered the establishment without any paparazzi noticing, much to her relief. if things went as planned, she and zoe would be placed near you, if not beside you. she looked around at the ceiling, floor and general aesthetic, confirming to herself she was at the right place. then, she saw you. red minidress with matching makeup and shoes; you looked amazing. you were looking at your ex with a sort of love that made billie sick to her stomach with both worry and envy. zoe spyed you too, asking the waitress if her and billie could be seated in the right hand corner or near it, where you and your ex were. the waitress complied, bringing her and billie to a table diagonal from you.

billie and zoe sat down, and billie snuck a glance at you, careful to make sure it went unnoticed. you looked beautiful. billie looked back to zoe and began chatting with her, stealing glances every now and then at you. the waitress came over five minutes later and billie and zoe ordered. after a while, they got their food and began eating. “so,” zoe started, “is it… working?”. she gestured subtly with her head towards you. “man, how am i supposed to know?” billie said, “but i hope so.”

you said something to your date and headed to the bathroom. billie saw this and smirked at zoe. “i’ll be back in a bit.” she said. she walked to the bathroom, just a little bit behind you. she stood awkwardly in one the stalls, waiting for the creak of your stall door. when she heard it, she walked out of her stall and pretended like she hadn’t been stalking you and didn’t know you were there.

“oh hey y/n! didn’t expect you’d be here.” billie lied, smiling at you. you didn’t give the same reaction. “what do you think you’re doing?” you said angrily, staring at billie. billie feigned innocence, asking what you meant. “don’t act all innocent. why are you here? why can’t you leave me alone for one night?” you hissed. billie frowned, but didn’t say anything. “you always do this, billie. any time i’m trying something new with someone, you get in the way of it. it’s so annoying. i wish you would just-“ you stopped yourself, hitting a realisation point. “wait…” you laughed as you looked at billie’s guilty expression. “are you… jealous?” billie looked down, not saying a word. you laughed again. and then billie spoke.

“yes, ok? i am. i am fucking jealous, y/n. i’m jealous because i’ve liked you since i met you, and i’ve had to watch you get your heart broke and i’ve had to fix you up just for you to go back to bitch who did the damage to you! i could you treat you so much better. i could-“

billie was cut off by the feeling of your lips on hers. she jumped out of surprise, but quickly returned it. she was happy, finally.

[yoonzinuhh]

im thinking about cheol and a ballerina gf ;-;🎀idk what it is abt cheol and coquettish gf but 😫!!!!

no let me tell you this man is about to be so obsessed over you.

he ALWAYS makes sure to attend all of your shows that too in the front row and no matter how many times,he always watches you with an awe. brags it to all his friends and lure them into watching your shows too.

“seungkwan you really need to see y/ns show she’s really- Y/N !” he rushes to you who just entered to his shared dorm with the boys giving you a head kiss

“y/n..this guy..all he talks about is you god just take him away” seungkwan shouts in a jokingly annoying tone with vernon nodding.

“really ?” you shot a look at cheol laughing

“they’re just jealous” seungcheol mumbles and proceeds to hug you.

“he’s so over y/n” vernon whispers with a giggle.

he’s so over you. he can never take his eyes off you on your pretty dress. he loves to help you with the ribbons and makes sure everything is right so you don’t end up hurting yourself.

and everytime you come home after a show he never fails to pepper you with all love and care. he is always ready with a warm shower just ready for you with your favourite bath bombs so you can relax with all your favourite foods ready. and when you complain about how your legs ache so much from all the performances he forces you to lie down on the bed so he could massage them for you while listening to all your rants and stories with a fonding smile because ‘anything for his girl’

“cheol..are you even listening ?”

“i wish..but you were so mesmerising today..i can’t believe you’re all mine..” you swear you could cry of how much he praises you,all the time.

and during the days you feel so overwhelmed by everything,he’s there. just like he always is.

“i’m sorry its- its just..it feels so overwhelming cheol” you sniff onto his already wet shirt and he pulls you closer,closer to his heart.

“y/n..my love..i get it that its your passion and your escape but honey when it gets too much you need to take a pause..give yourself some rest..hm ? don’t make yourself hate it or you,don’t push yourself.”

you nod whispering a thank you snuggling in closer. and you both stay there just like that for good few minutes.

“hey y/n ?” you look up to meet his eyes.

“i’m really..really proud of you and i mean it..” he sniffs your hair and places a kiss over it.

“i love you cheol” you place a soft kiss on the corner of his lips and the tiredness takes over you,you fall asleep.

“and i’ll always love you more” a kiss on your forehead and cuddles you in.

note : i really can’t take out caring bf cheol who is proud of his partner no matter what they do. he just wants them to be happy and comfortable 🎀:( I WANT HIM😭😭

[cxrsed-angel]

I ♡︎ DILFS

word count: 3k

Warnings: smut 18+ only (minors DNI), Daddy kink (kinda expected), established relationship, age gap (reader is between 24-25, Joel is in his 50s), oral (male receiving), fem!reader

A/N: I've always thought Joel was hot but Pedro Pascal playing him really did it for me, trying to improve my smut so I hope this is better than my last one. <3!!

You were going through an old building as a short cut you didn't realize it at first from the decay and rubble, but the more you looked around, you could see that it used to be a mall. You looked inside a store seeing if you could find anything useful when you spot it. It was a sign from fate; you go and grab the shirt and hold it up to look at. Considering what it's been through, it was in pretty good condition, like it was saved for you. You quickly take off your backpack and put it on. It was a little small; you assume it was a baby tee from the fit of it, but you had a long sleeve under, so you were still covered. You hear Ellie call your name and grab your stuff and run over to them. Joel starts walking, leading you out once he sees you, “Took you long enough come on lets get out of here” You see Ellie looking at the shirt, trying to read it.

 “I heart-i heart, whats a DILF?” Ellie asks more so to anyone than directly to her you could see the gears turning in her head trying to figure out what each letter means. 

You wish you could take a picture of Joel's face when he heard that, he turned around so fast, “Where the hell did you find that at” “C’mon Joel you know this is my brand, my whole motto, this is me, it was fate that brought me and this shirt together and Im never taking it off.” 

“Dead I Like, Deadly I-ok I give up what is it” you both ignored Ellie trying to figure out what DILFS are. 

“I can't take you anywhere, how do you always manage to find the most ridiculous shit during an apocalypse.”

 “Hey! what is it, I don't get it.” You hear Ellie shouting at you clearly annoyed, but youre more focused on Joel at the moment. 

“Aw Joel don't be jealous you know you're the only DILF for me” 

“Can you shut the hell up.” You giggled slightly at the clear annoyance in his voice. You loved messing with him when you can, and when it wouldn't put you in danger of course, you added some much-needed fun to his life. 

You finally leave the mall and walk out onto the road; you were so excited about your DILF shirt, you had an eye for things like this. You knew you couldn't take back everything you find but if it was small or something you really liked you took with you like when you found an old hello kitty watch, it didn't work, but it was still cute. Another time you found a Britney Spears poster in decent condition that was currently hanging up in your room, but the DILFS shirt was definitely your favorite after the poster. You were happy to add it to your little collection. 

“Can someone please explain what is a DILF I don't get it and why is Joel one?” Ellie asks for the billionth time, getting frustrated at you both for not listening to her. 

“Its da-”  You were interrupted by Joel his deep voice, a little upset at you for almost telling Ellie, you didnt think it was too inappropriate but he clearly disagreed. 

“Absolutely not youre not telling her she doesn't need to know, way too young for that, Im surprised you even know what it means” he responded, looking back at you mortified at where you had learned it from. 

“Hey! I was born before the pandemic you know” you tell him, reminding him that you’re not that young. Although compared to him, you were. 

“You were what 4, 5 when it happened can’t have remembered much before.” you heard the sass in his voice but you continue trying to prove that it shouldn't be surprising that you know what a DILF is. 

 “Okay, Im not ancient like you but still I had older friends, and we would talk about-” He interrupts you again, staring at you with frowned eyebrows. 

“Please stop there I really don’t want to know what you and your friends talk about, can we just change topics please.” If they told you about DILFs, he really didn't want to hear what else teens talked about in this world. 

“Dude c’mon, why can't you tell me, Im not a little kid.” Ellie says again, trying to get both of your attention and get you to explain it to her. You know now she’s not gonna let it go since Joel told her no. But you decided you’ll explain it later, especially after the whole playboy magazine situation, and she was around the same age you first heard it from your friends so you didnt see the issue.

“Alright from here until we get to where we are headed we are quiet, no one says a word unless you're dying got it” you could tell Joel had heard enough, and considering that you were outside you told it was best to listen to him and not distract him or yourself. 

“got it” “yes sir” you lean towards Ellie. “He’s in a mood today huh” deciding to bother him one last time before you would have be serious. 

She was about to respond until you walked right into Joel, giving you a yet intimidating glare frowning his eyebrows at you.  “alright alright, i’ll shut up.” 

After a couple hours of walking, Joel found a small safe building to sleep for the night, and you had been talking to Ellie until she fell asleep; you walk over into the room Joel was in, deciding to tease him again.

 “Hey daddy whatcha doing?” you call out in his direction, watching as he rolls his eyes at the name. 

“Stop.” he responded flatly, clearly not amused by your jokes, but you decided to keep them going. 

 “What's wrong Daddy does it make you flustered?” You thought he was going to give you another flat response or tell you to shut up. But you were wrong, instead, he stands up and walks over to you, standing closer than you anticipated, you try to step back slightly, but his arm around your waist prevents you from going too far. You feel the blood rush to your cheek and ears, your mouth goes dry, not knowing what to say or how to respond.

“Oh look who’s flustered now, sweetheart.” His deep voice teases you back, having more of an effect on you than your teasing did on him. You feel yourself get hotter, your brain is unable to focus anything except on how close he was and his rough hand around your waist forcing you closer to him, though you didn't mind. You continue blinking up at him, speechless.

“Youre so quiet now what happened, thought you were teasing me baby?” 

You continue to stare at his brown eyes, the only thing you brain was thinking way, wow hes so hot. You look up into his face, taking in his features. The wrinkles around his pretty brown eyes, the scars and cuts around his face. God you always thought he was attractive but it still amazes you how hot and pretty he was. You could look at him all day. 

He wraps both his hand around your waist, pulling you to him,places his lips on yours. You loved kissing Joel. It was rare having him kiss you while you weren’t in the safety of the QZ. He usually couldn’t relax enough to kiss you, needing to be alert and focused just in case. So this took you by surprise but his kisses always made you feel warm and safe, and in that moment, you didn't have to worry about anything. All that mattered was him. 

You wrap your hands around his neck as you deepen the kiss, pressing your lips against his rough lips, closing your eyes as you melt into his embrace; his hands lower down your waist and squeeze your ass, which surprises you so much that you let out a small gasp against his lips. Joel pulls away slightly, smiling at you “youre cute” His actions confused you; you rarely ever are intimate outside the walls, but you trusted him and if he felt comfortable you knew you were safe so you decided to mess with him “hmm I dont daddy youre pretty cute yourself.” 

He guides you over to the makeshift bed, leading you by your waist, making you walk backward, as you continue kissing him, parting your lips slightly, allowing his tongue to slip inside yours. 

 “You ain’t gonna stop are you” he asks he sits down and pulls you down onto his lap; you couldn’t tell iif he seriously was tired of you calling him that or if he just teasing too. 

 “what you don't like it Daddy?” you ask, trying to gauge his reaction you didn’t want to push it too far or actually make him uncomfortable. 

 “I never say that now did I, sweetheart?” again, he confused you does that mean he liked it or that he didn’t mind you joking about it? you stare at his face trying to see. 

Your thoughts are interrupted by him pulling your lips onto his again. But more aggressively than earlier, moaning into his mouth and rolling your hips against him as he gropes your ass through your jeans.

“Joel” You moan against his lips before you lean your head into his neck.

 “Aw baby what happened to daddy huh” you pull away, looking up at him with wide eyes, surprised. Did he like it? You look at his face and see his eyes full of lust, and you realized he liked it. He liked it when you called him daddy. You look down, suddenly getting shy and embarrassed about saying it. It was one thing saying it as a joke and teasing him about it, but to moan, it was different; it was dirtier. 

He saw you getting shy and flustered in his lap, avoiding eye contact with him. Unlike you, he could read you like the back of his hand; he could easily tell you were embarrassed.

“c’mon baby no need to be shy, I can tell you like too don’t you” he softly stroked your waist when one hand and squeezes your ass with the other. you take your gaze off the floor onto him. nodding in agreement with him.

“C’mon baby need you say it, you like calling me daddy don’t you” you could tell he wanted you to say it out loud, his hand rubbing small patterns on your waist encouraging you, reassuring you that you didn’t need to be embarrassed. 

“Yea i like it daddy” you mutter quietly, still ashamed to say in a serious setting. Not quite ready to admit to yourself that calling Joel daddy turned you on as much as it did. 

You didn't think you would like it or find it this attractive. Maybe it was your lack of a father growing up, and Joel being older than you. You didn't know why; all you knew is that once you said it, you felt yourself getting wetter. 

“hmm good girl” he takes your face into his hands, kissing you again; you slip your tongue into his mouth, his deep voice letting out a moan against your mouth. You couldnt help but grind and roll your hips against him, searching for any type of release. 

He goes to lift your shirt but stops slightly, rolling his eyes “Want me to fuck you in the I heart DILFS shirt dont you?” you look at him, nodding laughing a little “you know me so well.” 

He sighs and shakes his head. Although there’s disappointment in his voice, you can tell there’s also amusement. “ I do, dont why I tolerate you” 

 “You love me, cant live without me, I bring adventure into your life you’d be so bored without me.” you remind him why he puts up with you.

“Shut up” he mutters, though you sensed the amusement in his voice because he knows you’re right. As much as you annoyed him, he couldn’t imagine living without your teasing and antics. 

You unbutton his shirt and take it off, lightly grazing your fingers across his chest, admiring his chest and body, you see more scars and healed wounds but you also see his muscles. You’ve always loved his body. You remember the nights in your apartment placing, kissing along his waist, his chest, his stomach. 

You thought about placing marks on his chest but were interrupted by him unzipping your jeans and lifts your hips up to slide your pants off, you get off his lap, taking off the rest of your pants.  You unzip his pants, pulling them down, you stare at his bulge through his boxers and press kisses onto his dick, teasing him through his boxers. 

“Wanna suck you off” you mumble quietly, focusing on how much you need him in your mouth. You weren’t even sure he heard or understood you until you hear his deep voice speak to you, breaking you away from your thoughts. 

“What’d you say darling couldnt hear” You know he heard you he just wanted you to say it louder. 

“Can I please suck your dick daddy” you look up at him batting your eyelashes while you rub your hand against his hard dick. You feel his dick twitch against your hand while he bites his lip, suppressing a moan. 

“Goddamn darling you’re killing me” his texas accent getting stronger as he gets harder in his boxers, you loved hearing his deep texas accent come out as he gets more turned on by you. 

He pulls down his boxers, and no matter how many times you’ve seen his dick, you’re still in shocked at how big he is. You can’t help but to stare for a couple of seconds taking it in, you smile up at him before teasing him licking the tip gently as you lightly stroke him, you continue placing kitty licks on his dick. He shivers against your tongue, and you love it, love watching him fall apart because of you and seeing how much your mouth affected him. 

 You gather some spit in your mouth before you drool some onto his dick. He rolls his eyes back as you slowly stroke his cock in your hand, using your spit as lube. You hear his deep voice moaning as you lean down and lick the tip while still stroking him. You start to slowly speed your hand when you feel his hand lightly tugging your hair making you stop and stare up at him.

 “you’re gonna have to speed it up sweetheart.” 

That was all he said before his hand grabbed the back of your head and forced your lips onto his cock. You hollow your cheeks and take him in further, feeling your nose brush against his hair at the base of his cock. He moves his hips gently fucking your throat 

“Fuck you feel so good” he murmured under his breath, his voice deeper than his usual tone. You closed your eyes as you felt yourself starting to choke on him,he started to thrust his hips faster into your mouth. 

“C’mon baby look at me, look at daddy.” 

You couldn’t help but moan around him at his words, feeling yourself getting more turned on as he called himself daddy. You listen, looking up at him through your eyelashes as you continue taking him down your throat. 

“Atta girl, so pretty looking up at me like that.” you feel yourself getting warmer from his praise, loving how vocal he was, you wish you were back at his apartment so he could be louder without the risk of drawing unwanted and dangerous attention. 

He moves the hair that was falling in front of your face behind your ears “you look fucking gorgeous sucking my dick darling” feeling butterflies in your stomach as he compliments you.  

You take him out of your swollen lips when you start feeling dizzy from the lack of air; you continue to stroke him in your hands as you catch your breath until he puts his hand on your head, guiding your mouth back onto his cock. His deep voice moans out your name under his breath as he gets closer to his release. 

“fuck darling i’m close keep on-yes like that baby god you like this huh like having daddy’s dick in your mouth sweetheart?”

You nod as best you could, trying to agree, but all that comes out is your moans against his dick. You could tell he was close as his started to get slightly louder, but you could tell he was trying his best to be quiet. His deep voice, making your head go fuzzy in arousal. He start making you gag as he thrusting into your mouth faster , sloppy fucking into your mouth as he closer to his release. After a few more thrust you hear him moaning your name as he cums into your mouth. You feel his cum shoot into your mouth and down your throat.

You held your head onto his cock until he finish before you slowly took him out your mouth. He holds your cheek in his hands, lightly caressing them. 

“Open baby girl let me see.” you happily open your mouth, showing how you swallowed his cum. “Good girl baby c’mere” he pulls you onto his lap again before placing a kiss on your lips , softly biting your bottom lip before pulling away. He holds you in his lap for a couple of minutes. you lay your head on his shoulder as he softly rubs his hand up and down your back.

“if we were at home you know i’d take care of you right baby” his deep voice makes you lift your head off of him, looking into his eyes. Before you met Joel, you thought older men didn’t have much of a sex drive, you didn’t know if it was just Joel or all men in their 50s but he proved you wrong. There have been many nights in his room where he would fuck more than one time; the first time caught you by surprise. Of course, you both paid the price in the morning; both sore, aching muscles had to spend the next day in bed, not being able to do much. So you know he would have fuck if you were back at home. 

“Of course i do” you play with the hair at the back of his neck for a little while before getting off his lap so he could put his clothes back on, and you do the same. You didn't mind; you knew sucking him off was as much risk as he could take, and you didn't really feel comfortable enough to fuck out in the open like this. After you both have your clothes on, you lay down with Joel, wrapping your arms around his waist as he turned, pressing your back into your chest, falling asleep. Trying to rest before you’d have to walk back to the QZ in the morning.

[figgrrr0]

Hii im new here! Found your blog by chance and I love how you write! Would you be able to write wanderer x jealous!reader on valentines day? Lets say Wanderer has got a lot of admirers from the akademiya and reader is just silently furious abt it but doesnt say anything. When Wanderer finds out he fucks them nicely and praise them/ reassures them <333

Apparently I struggle to do angry jealousy, I just make it sad... but it's light this time! And soft.

Also it feels so weird writing Wanderer as a name??

Want to skip the lead up? Look for the NSFW sign that marks the smut!

Valentine's with Wanderer

Character: Top!Wanderer/Scaramouche

Reader: Bottom!Gn // Genre: Smut, angst

Cw: Classic Scara misunderstandings, praise/reassurance, fingering, soft sex, slight angst(?) it's more hinted I guess

Plot: A little // Word count: 1.9k

Valentine's Day: a day of love, gifts, and showing appreciation for your partner.

Usually, everyone tries to take the day off, freeing up their schedule so that they can focus entirely on the occasion, however it may be that they want to spend it. Which is why you were quite surprised to find yourself alone in bed when you woke up in the morning.

Now, that's not when you started feeling doubt. After all, maybe Wanderer, your boyfriend of the past few months, was in the kitchen. Breakfast in bed is a traditional start to Valentine's Day, and an easy way to get in anyone's good books. But, when you heard nothing after a few minutes of waiting, – no clanking of cutlery or slamming of cabinets – you just had to go see where he was.

Unluckily for you, all you could find was a little note, hastily sprawled and left waiting on the counter:

"I'll be gone for a while, don't wait up for me. I left you some breakfast in the cupboard, it might need heating up if you stay in bed too long, but that's not my fault...

–Happy Valentine's Day."

As usual, his handwriting is kind of hard to read; quick and messy. But, at least he did technically make you breakfast, even if he also alluded to you being lazy.

However, what most takes your attention, is the blotch of ink that splattered right at the end of "fault". It was as if he were hesitating to let go, to pick up the pen and leave it at that.

Which is why you felt oddly warm at the fact that the last part was perfectly legible and obviously had been written slower than the rest.

Even though you know Wanderer isn't particularly fond of outright expressing his feelings, you thought that surely, today of all days, he could push aside his own pride for you. Even just a little. Maybe that was too high of an expectation. His ambitions never let him take a break, so why would he take one for a made-up holiday?

Well... at least he's aware enough of your excitement for the day to acknowledge it first thing in the morning, even if he wasn't there to actually say it.

But, you knew that with Wanderer, everything would be awkward and touchy the first time around. You had to move slowly. Baby steps, you remind yourself, as you head back to your shared room to start getting ready.

It's only the start of the day.

...

You wish it weren't Valentine's Day.

Every street was lined with couples, each and every one of them holding hands, carrying flowers... things that you should be doing with your boyfriend right now.

And it didn't help that you felt like everyone was judging you for being alone, especially when most of them likely knew who you were dating. It's not like you hadn't seen them staring before now.

You couldn't blame them, really. Wanderer had shown up in Sumeru suddenly and didn't feel especially inclined to explain himself, so of course people would be curious. You just didn't like the way that their eyes would... linger after him. Even when you were there! And on the rare day that Wanderer was comfortable enough to let you hold onto him in public, the admiring stares turned to full-blown jealousy.

Now, what was wrong with that? Shouldn't that be an ego boost for you? You'd thought so too, at first. But then you realised that just meant they'd want to try and steal him from you.

You thought you could put up with it at first. After all, you knew that Wanderer wouldn't stand for anyone else touching him or getting in his way other than you. You trusted him just fine. You didn't trust the average Akademiya goer, though. They all seemed to think they were entitled to have whatever – or whoever – they wanted, just because they'd gotten into the prestigious school at all.

You'd tried to bring up your concerns to Wanderer about the whispers going around and the jealous looks you'd get when walking through the streets or halls of the Akademiya. Almost instantaneously, he shut down your complaints, finding the words so easily that it almost felt as though he hadn't even tried.

"Tch... they're annoying and only want to waste our time. Just ignore them like I do."

That response was actually exactly what you'd expected to hear, and while you were grateful for his straightforward answer, you'd wanted a more... passionate outcome. Something to show he cared.

That definitely isn't what you got, considering he didn't even look at you when he said it.

After that, you didn't want to bring up the same problem again. Especially not on Valentines Day, even though he'll probably come home having been confessed to over twenty times in the past hour alone. Okay, maybe you were over-exaggerating a little, but it really didn't feel like it to you. Plus, it's the day of love! You're allowed a little leeway for feeling paranoid, right?

Maybe this evening will be better, when Wanderer finally comes come.

...

As you walk through the door, you're instantly met with a faint smell that you recognised to be the lavender lemongrass scented candles that you kept around the house. Of course, this clued you in to the fact that Wanderer must already be home. But what solidified this, was that when you walked through the doorway, there he was, waiting for you standing next to a vase of beautifully arranged flowers. It was mainly made up of your favourite flower, along with some of the famous Valentine's flowers as well, such as roses, carnations, and even some daisies.

Most likely, it was thought up by the florist that he went to. But at least he knew your favourite flower, as well as followed the tradition of buying them for you at all.

Often times, it was unusual for him to initiate physical touch with you; even though he was comfortable with you, he still just wasn't used to it yet. Tonight, however, he seemed to have no trouble in walking right up to you, taking your hand to guide you into the living room, where you could both just relax in each other's company. The calming lavender lemongrass candles eased your mood quite well, and you were happy that your Wanderer had really tried for Valentine's day.

...

You had a lovely evening with your boyfriend, cuddling on the couch as you spoke in hushed voices about anything and everything (even if he was slightly apprehensive to start), the lovely atmosphere of romantic music quietly flooding through from the street.

And even though it had felt perfect, as you get ready to retire for the night, the candles having gone out a while ago, you can't help but feel the uncertainty from before start to overtake your thoughts again.

Resigning yourself to forget about it, you get into your side of the bed, your Wanderer already having been waiting for you to return. But he can tell that something in your mood has changed almost as soon as he lays his eyes on you again.

"What's wrong?"

"... Nothing."

He leans forward, showing his engagement. "Bullshit. If you don't tell me, there's nothing I can do to help you get over it."

"I just... those people from the Akademiya... they're still bothering me." You look down at your hands.

He sighs, closing his eyes for a second, "I've told you to just ignore them. There's nothing I can do to control how people think of you, or me, or us."

"I can't just ignore them!" You whine, "They're always looking at us when we're together... it's making me worried..."

At that, he looks over at you, his eyes scrunching as he thinks your words over. "Worried about what?"

Not sure how to say it, you move yourself to lay against him. Your back is pressed to his chest now, and the feeling of his warm breath on your neck helps to soothe your thoughts just enough for you to find the words:

"...I don't want them to take you from me..."

Now, it's Wanderer's turn to be silent. Now, he realises the mistake he'd made in telling you to just ignore those insignificant people; by ignoring the problem himself, he'd made you focus on it more. Of course you'd be feeling worried about this, he'd shut it down the first time you'd tried bringing it up.

You didn't need to just forget about it. You needed to work through it so that you could forget about it.

After almost a minute of tense silence, you're surprised when you feel his lips press gently to the back of your neck, accompanied moments later by his arm curling around you, pulling you ever closer against him. His hand rests over the place where your heart rests, while the other intertwines your fingers with his against your stomach, as if caging in the butterflies that start to flutter.

"Allow me to try again..." He presses a kiss to your ear before speaking again, "you don't need to think about them, or what I think about them." The hand on your heart shifts to cup your chest, your breath wavering when his hand brushes over your hardening nipples. "Because I'll never want anyone but you."

Then, the night is almost a blur.

Wanderer sneakily pulls a bottle of rose scented lube from under the pillow, liberally gathering some as he starts to stretch you out on his fingers. The scent slowly fills the room, intoxicating you on the heady fragrance, allowing it to pull you deeper into the moment.

He steadily pushes his fingers against the sensitive bundle of nerves inside of you, never slowing until after you've cum around his lubed up digits. Your hand finds purchase with the one on your chest, tightening your grip around him as you come down from the residual high.

He's whispering short encouragements to you while you collect your breath, the moans you'd been letting out dying on your tongue. Wanderer slowly lifts your leg, allowing him to guide his hard cock to finally, finally press against your hole, not making you wait to feel him as the slowly pushes in.

You don't need to adjust much, the lube and his attentive fingers having done the work well enough that only the comforting sensation of being full registers in your core. He starts thrusting when you signal that you're ready, his pace is easy and the power behind his hips is controlled enough to pull a soft moan from you with each stroke. It's different from what you're used to, but it's good. So good. And what makes it better is the hushed and stuttered, "I love you," and, "You're the only one that matters," that gets breathed into your shoulder as you both approach your shared climax.

The next morning, you wake up to find your Wanderer exactly where he ended last night; right next to you in your bed. You close your eyes contentedly, knowing you'll never have to worry about him being taken from you.

He's your Wanderer.

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