#like my left eye was right but my right eye was wrong and it made my right eye turn to shit

[heartmaddie]

“Michael?” Your voice rung out characteristically soft as your eyes fell on his exhausted body, slick with dirt and grime from a particularly gruesome day. He’s extremely exhausted, you could tell from metres away while wrapped up in thick bedsheets. “‘Something wrong?”

He didn’t respond.

With parted lips and tired eyes, you watched as calloused hands roughly tugged at his shirt, revealing his toned abdomen. Your eyes were trained on the faded scars littered throughout porcelain skin as if constellations in the sky. Your throat was hitched, but no breath let out.

The shirt fell somewhere with a thud, before he stalked towards the en suite, footsteps followed each other, and you found yourself watching him sink into the herbal bath you prepared moments ago. His body trembled underneath the warm, fragranced water.

“What’re you thinking about, liebling?” Your voice is soft, it almost cuts through the overwhelming thoughts which flood his head.

He doesn’t know how you put up with him.

“Nothing,” he mumbled, watching stray grass float around the tub, slim fingers reached out for your arm. A deep, rejuvenating sigh escaped thin lips as his eyes closed. 

He felt you massage rose-hip scented shampoo into his head, and he finally let himself relax for the first time of the day. It almost sickened him how much he adored your touch, how much he yearned for it. The serenity you left in his body grounded him.

His heart was ripped out of his chest and placed delicately into your palms, arteries and all.

To him, there was only one happiness in life, to love and to be loved. But how was one supposed to know these ecstasies if not had experienced before? Michael’s body was bruised, cracks ran through skin years ago and had settled there. Regardless, the tangible evidence of his pain was mere.

As he stepped out of the bathtub, his drenched body wrapped tightly around yours, and the small giggle which fell from pink lips melted him. He loved your laugh, each sound which danced off your tongue soothed him immensely, clearing his mind until all he could conjure was you; his happiness, his heart.

His body toppled you over and squished you against the mattress. His straight nose pushed against the skin of your neck and placed tender, almost reverent kisses against the warm skin. 

“hold me tighter.”

Somehow, he liked how your touch treated him as if he were fragile, like a vase that had been ruined a multitude of times that only you had bothered to glue back together. Pieces of him were missing now, lost in time, but regardless, your flowers still rested against the rims of china.

Nimble fingers brushed against his back, and he relaxed further into your chest. Michael wanted to melt into you, he wanted his organs to intertwine with yours and become one, he felt that you were both born from the same star, after all. 

You traced each bump and ridge which adorned his skin with love, your warmth made sugary liquids fall from azure as he buried himself deeper into you. He needed this, he needs you, more than anything. He feels you in his skin, he’ll never let you go.

You gnawed at his pain and swallowed it as if sweet chocolate drizzled on freshly picked strawberries, when his heart extinguishes, you’ll be his last and forever thought.

For the last time, your arms wrapped around him tightly, bringing your lips against his ear.

“I love you, Micha.”

He nodded, eyes shutting impossibly tight as he sponged up each syllable off your saccharine cheeks.

(thank you for understanding me)

“I love you too.”

©heartmaddie all rights reserved. please do not repost my work.

[vhannilah]

iii. it's ride or die, baby!

pairing. player 230 | choi su-bong | thanos x f! reader

summary. you're not a big fan of your boyfriend's hobby. but, you wouldn't mind tagging along with him— even if it means danger.

contains. au, fluff, mature themes

WITNESSING a car blowing up was not a rare sight for you and your boyfriend, Choi Su-bong, most commonly known as Thanos.

Tasting the sweet flavor of your lollipop on your tongue, your eyes scanned the view across the street, watching the siren retrieve the deceased person inside the ambulance.

Without looking at your boyfriend, you muttered enough for him to hear, "Do you think he crashed the car on purpose?"

Your boyfriend replied, clearly unbothered at the scene in front of him, "Nah, babe. He's just stupid."

The reply made you nibble on your bottom lip, feeling worried start to creep in inside your head.

Su-bong felt your nervousness by the way you lightly tapped his hand, indicating you wanted to hold him. He let you hold his hand, squeezing your hands softly, "What's wrong, babe?"

You whispered honestly, "Just nervous about tonight..."

"Do you trust me?"

You immediately answered, "Of course!"

"Then there's nothing to worry about, babe. If anything out of hand happens, I'd handle 'em for you."

You nodded, your fear slowly subsiding at his words of reassurance. You leaned your head on his shoulder, listening to what he was going to say next, "That dude crashed his car because he didn't follow that one rule when it comes to driving."

"What?"

You asked your boyfriend in pure curiosity and anticipation. He stared at our expression for a few seconds before answering.

"Don't be stupid," he nonchalantly said as he took the lollipop from your mouth to his.

"Hey! That's mine— really?"

You watched him chew the lollipop into small crumbs until it melted right into his tongue. You frowned, clearly not happy about what he'd done.

Suddenly, his finger lifted your face by your chin. And without giving you a warning, his lips touched yours.

Although confused, you reciprocated the kiss.

He pried your lips open, pushing his tongue inside your mouth, intertwining with yours.

You could taste the sweet flavor of your lollipop as Su-bong's hands squeezed your waist, pulling you closer. Your face flushed at the sudden action, whining as the two of you continued to make out in public despite the judging eyes of the people passing by.

After a few minutes, the two of you separated from each other, leaving a trail of saliva from both your lips. You wiped it off, feeling your lips start to feel sore at the rough treatment it received.

"You could've just bought me a new one."

He smirked, "But you would've preferred my lips anyway."

That was the truth.

ᯓ★

The dark alley wasn't as silent as it had been on the previous nights that passed. People's voices mixed with the loud, booming music created a party-like atmosphere in the street.

The sound of the car engines roared through the night, the drivers inside speeding up as they left their imprint on the road.

Holding your boyfriend's hand, you never took your eyes off of his back as he led you out of the crowd, walking towards the rows of cars parked not far away from the main road that was used for the race.

Once you and him were finally released from the crowd, his hands let go of yours, placing it to your waist, pulling you closer as you walked side-by-side.

You could feel the heated glare your best friend's eyes, Myung-gi, were sending towards Su-bong's direction. He was not happy that your boyfriend decided to bring you with him.

Myung-gi was aware he shouldn't do anything rashly knowing that he's under the influence. But, the sight of you being with Su-bong made something stir inside of his head.

Without thinking of the possible consequences of his actions, Myung-gi released himself from his girlfriend's hand.

"[Name]!"

Myung-gi called out, putting on a smile as he approached you. Disregarding the unwelcome look your boyfriend was giving him, he pulled you in for a hug.

He held you tightly, "I missed you, you know? You never have the time to hang out with me after you got with... him."

Holding your hands up in the air, you slowly patted his back, "Yeah, I missed you and Jun-hee too."

You smiled at Jun-hee who was following Myung-gi. You thought he was going to let you go soon, but he didn't.

Feeling the hug was a bit way longer than it should have been, you patted his back, "Myung-gi?"

Su-bong pushed the other man away from you, obviously pissed, "Woah, woah! That's enough hug from my woman. You're not his boyfriend, yeah?"

Jun-hee held the man steady, making sure he was okay before shifting her eyes to the two of you, "Sorry about that. Myung-gi's drank a lot tonight."

"What? I'm not drunk, I didn't even drink that much!"

You smiled awkwardly, "Yeah, he's drunk. We should probably go now since the race is about to start," you waved at her, dragging your boyfriend away.

ᯓ★

"Baby, wait— mhm, not now!"

You begged your boyfriend, feeling his hands slither under your skirt, caressing your thighs. You tried to hold in your moans as he continued to litter kisses, bite, and suck on your neck— you were sure you wouldn't be able to hide it for the next few days no matter what you do.

Although breathless, you managed to whisper in his ears, "I only love you, baby. Not him, so don't be jealous of him."

He grumbled, "I'm not jealous of him, I just hated how he touched you."

You giggled at his response. Placing your hands on his cheeks, you kissed him passionately.

ᯓ★

"Brace yourself, baby. This is gonna be the best ride you'll ever experience in your whole life."

Rolling your eyes at his smug expression, you fastened your seatbelt and put your helmet on, ready to take off.

With his hands squeezing your thigh one last time, he asked, "You ready, baby?"

You deadpan, "Do I have a choice?"

"Nah."

With one final look at you, the final signal was sent, and the car he drove accelerated.

Your grip on your seatbelt tightened in fear. You felt like any second from now, the car would crash and both of you would die from how fast everything was going at the moment. You held yourself back from fainting.

Your boyfriend's reaction was the complete opposite of yours. He seems to be having the time of his life.

His opponent, Myung-gi, didn't seem to be the same.

Su-bong decided it was a good chance to teach this dude who's the boss. He lightly lowered the speed of the car, getting on the same level as Myung-gi's.

Lowering the car's window after sensing your best friend's eyes in your direction, he steered the cars wheels to the side, aggressively bumping the side on Myung-gi's car causing it to sway and almost crash in a nearby light post.

"Baby, what the f*ck are you doing?"

He answered, "Just being friendly."

Seeing the annoyed expression of Myung-gi, Su-bong felt satisfied as he closed the window and burst out laughing. The speed of vehicle went even faster before, overpowering the opponents as they were left behind.

The gap between him and the opponent's car was quite significant, showing you how skilled and talented your boyfriend really in in this field. Hell, he even had the audacity to place one of his hands on your thighs.

As much as you hated to admit it, your boyfriend's ability to maneuver the car was out of this world. It's as if the car and he turned into one entity.

With only one hand on the steering wheel, his control of the situation didn't affect how well he avoided obstacles that the two of you faced along the way.

You could feel the finish line was getting closer. You're certain your boyfriend's going to win.

Out of nowhere, a loud bang echoed at the back of the car. Confused, she asked her boyfriend, "What was that?"

"Well, well. Guess what? The motherf*cker finally decided to show his true colors," he sneered.

The attack didn't end just there. Multiple rounds of shots were sent towards the car. Unfortunately, Su-bong was preoccupied as he was controlling the car, making him unable to do anything but try to dodge the bullets from touching the wheels.

But, your hands were free. And Su-bong knew just avoiding it wouldn't help all that much. If they don't attack back, they'll get hit by the bullets.

"Baby, get the gun. It's in the back of my car"

"What? What do you want me to do?!," you choked, fear visibly showing on your face.

He asked in a serious tone, "Choose your side, baby. Me or that bastard?"

"You, of course."

His eyes softened at your answer before giving a light squeeze on your thigh, "Then, get the gun for me and let that bastard have a taste of his own medicine."

Although you still feel hesitant to do it, you nod your head and followed your boyfriend's order.

Sensing your nervousness, he reassured you, "Don't worry, baby. I'll handle everything else for you, just focus on what I said."

Believing his words, you put your head out the window, and without giving a warning, you released your first shot.

Bingo.

Luck seemed to be on your side as the first shot landed on the enemy's wheels, making the car stagger and almost crash. But you didn't stop there, you released another one.

The aim didn't miss, not even once. Seems like the shooting practice with your boyfriend was finally paying off.

Witnessing this through the side mirror, your boyfriend whistled, "That was so f*cking hot, baby!"

You couldn't help but smile at his proud expression, feeling a little bit proud of yourself knowing you just protected and saved you and your boyfriend's lives.

But still, you felt guilty for doing that to your friend.

"Baby, don't feel guilty. He was the one who did it first," he seemed to be able to read your mind at how he knew what was going on inside your head.

You nodded, releasing your negative emotions through a sigh.

Finally, the car reached the finish line.

Everyone who placed their bets on your boyfriend to win cheered, congratulating him whilst they surrounded his figure as soon as he left the car.

He ignored the crowd as he proceeded to walk on the other side of the car, opening it as he led you out.

With his hand placed on your waist, he kissed you passionately in front of the crowd before whispering in your ears, "Baby, I'm gonna kill that bastard tonight, is that okay?"

©vhannilah

[mytherapyisreading14]

Jealousy, Jealousy

Summary: Spencer gets jealous when you work together with a police officer on your current case.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Category: Smut, some Angst and Fluff (18+ MDNI)

Warnings: alcohol consumption, making out in public, dirty talk, hair pulling, oral sex, unprotected sex (don’t do that), multiple orgasms, creampie, dom!spencer (kinda)

Word Count: 6,5k

Author’s Note: I spent the whole week writing this one even though I should be studying for my final exam next week (not stressed enough to study yet oops) and don’t really like how it turned out even though I don’t know why. I rewrote it a couple of times but I think I’m just gonna leave it like that. Check out my other work here.

Spencer sits at his desk, his brow furrowed and his eyes fixed on the situation happening in front of him. It looks like a normal day at the office — the sounds of keys being typed, phones ringing, and the hum of the coffee machine. But at that moment, Spencer is oblivious to all of it. His gaze is fixed on the table next to the window, and he can’t take his eyes off the scene.

A police officer, a young, good-looking man named James, is having an animated conversation with you — his colleague, friend, and the woman he’s been in love with for years. The conversation seems relaxed and full of laughter, as if you two are sharing funny stories from your personal lives. You laugh again and again, a gleam in your eyes that he knows all too well.

But that’s not all. James reaches for the documents he wants to hand you, and as he does, his hand touches yours for a moment. The touch is fleeting, almost accidental, but Spencer feels an uncomfortable sensation spreading through him — jealousy. “She’s laughing... he’s making her laugh,” Spencer mutters grimly to himself, still staring at you.

"What's wrong?" he suddenly hears Luke’s voice, who sits down at his desk with a smile. Luke has been watching Spencer for a while without him noticing. Spencer tries to concentrate, wiping his hand over his mouth as if that would drive away the thoughts. But it doesn’t help.

"Nothing," he grumbles, not moving. “Oh yeah?" Luke asks, grinning crookedly. "You know, you look like you're about to explode with anger at any moment. Can't you see you're driving yourself crazy?" Spencer was about to get upset, but he decides to stay calm.

“I... I'm just concentrating on my work," Spencer mumbles, his gaze constantly drifting toward you. Luke grins, knowing exactly what’s going on. "If you really want her, you'll have to do more than just watch." Spencer blinks. "What?" he asks. “You have to show everyone that she's no longer available. Put a ring on her finger, and the officer won’t come near her anytime soon," he says to tease him.

Spencer feels his throat go dry. Ring? That is the point where he perks up. He is about to say something else when suddenly a new laugh from you reaches him. James just made a joke — and you are laughing again. Spencer can no longer just watch. Hearing you laugh at something he said feels like a punch to his stomach.

“That's enough!" he growls, standing up abruptly, anger boiling up inside him. Luke raises an eyebrow and watches him. "Are you all right, man?" Spencer walks over to you without further ado. You are sitting at the desk, James just left to get more files, and your eyes are fixed on the stack in front of you. Spencer steps in front of you with firm steps.

“Do you have a minute?" he asks, his voice much calmer than he feels, while he tries not to make the words sound too harsh. He tries not to let jealousy flash in his eyes. You look up and smile at him, completely unaware of what is going on inside him. "Sure, Spencer. What's up?" you ask. “We need to talk." The quiet jealousy inside him is like a cold, steady pressure.

It isn’t just the flirting between you and James. It’s the way he looks at you, the way you react to him — having a conversation with the only woman he really wants. Spencer takes a deep breath and keeps his gaze on yours. “In private,” he adds when you make no sign of standing up. You look at him, confused. “Uhm… okay,” you say, and follow him.

Spencer and you are now standing behind the closed door of the small office. The room suddenly seems much smaller than it usually does. The air is heavy, almost uncomfortable, and Spencer has already turned around, his gaze returning to you. “So, how far along are you with the files?" Spencer asks harshly, phrasing the question less out of interest and more like a challenge. The words come quickly, almost too quickly.

“We're halfway through," you answer calmly, as if you don’t even notice the tension. “Halfway through?" Spencer’s eyebrows furrow, the lines on his face stiffening. "Damn, we should be much further along! We barely have any time left, and you're spending all your time with him instead of focusing on work!" You blink in surprise. "What are you talking about? James? We're well organized and work together. What's going on now?" you ask, confused.

“Oh, come on,” Spencer continues, now visibly upset. “The guy isn’t even interested in working on the documents. He’s just using the whole thing to flirt with you. It’s all just a game for him. And you’re falling for it!” He clenches his hands into fists. “He’s only doing this because he wants to get you into his bed, and he has no idea about the work we’re supposed to be doing here!” Spencer shouts.

You can’t believe what you’re hearing. A spark of anger shoots up inside you, and you take a step closer to him. “That’s not true, Spencer,” your tone is sharp now, the words harsh and disregarding the tension between you. “We just get along well, okay? That’s all!” you say.

“Oh, really?” Spencer snorts derisively and shakes his head. “You know exactly what he wants. And it has nothing to do with work, you can be sure of that. He talks to you, flirts with you, and you let it all go like nothing’s happening!” He spits out each word as if he couldn’t keep it in any longer.

You feel your heart rate increase. You clench your fists now too. "You have no idea, Spencer!" you hiss. Your anger continues to grow the more you hear his words echoing in your head. "You have no idea what's really going on here, and most importantly, it’s none of your business, okay? You are not my boyfriend." You secretly hope that he will object and tell you that this is what he wants, but he just keeps looking at you.

The air between you is electric, so thick and charged that it almost feels like it could explode. Spencer stares at you, his face tense, but you can see a mixture of anger and... disappointment in his eyes. But when you said that it was none of his business, it seemed as if something inside him was breaking. You can see it in his eyes.

"I understand..." he says with a bitter smile, but it sounds more like disappointment than an answer. You can’t stay in that place any longer. You want to get out of that room, away from him, from this tense situation, from his accusations. You just leave him standing there, without another word. You open the door and quickly leave the room, heading back to the office, where the rest of the team is still going about their daily lives.

-

Spencer sits at his desk, his eyes fixed on the maps in front of him, but his thoughts are everywhere — except at work. His gaze keeps drifting to the desk where you are sitting with James. You’re speaking to each other; he says something, and you laugh. Again. Spencer can’t stand it. The thought that this guy is getting closer and closer to you burns inside him like fire.

The moment you left the small office is burned into his memory. Your words, his reaction — it had all been a blow to him, even if he didn’t want to admit it. He felt hurt, disappointed, and even though he buried it deep inside, he knows that something inside him had broken.

At that moment, Luke appears again. He leans casually against the table, watching Spencer for a while before breaking the silence. "You look like you’ve just been through some personal drama," he says with a crooked grin that lightens the atmosphere but doesn’t obscure the seriousness of Spencer's face. "What happened, man? What’s wrong with you? Is it because of these two?" he asks and points over to you and James.

Spencer sighs and wipes his hand across his face before slowly turning back. "Nothing. It’s nothing." But even he knows he can’t hide behind that answer. “Come on," Luke urges, sitting down on the edge of the desk and leaning back. "I saw that. You’re not just annoyed. You look like you’ve just been through an argument. What happened?"

Spencer slowly turns Luke and shakes his head. "It’s... nothing important." He feels like admitting it would only weaken him further, so he continues in a short, clipped tone, "She’s just... she doesn’t understand me. I told her not to talk to the guy. And she... she doesn’t want to listen. So what?” Luke looks at him in silence for a moment. Then he snorts softly.

“You know, Spencer," he begins in a serious tone, "you both just have to stop ignoring what’s obvious." Spencer stares at him, unsure of what to say next. "I don’t know what you’re talking about," Spencer says. “Oh, come on," Luke says, looking straight at him. "You’re in love with her, and she’s in love with you. You two are just ignoring it like a couple of idiots."

Spencer blinks, his eyes widening for a moment as if the thought of Luke saying that caught him completely off guard. "What?" he blurts out. "What are you talking about? That’s not true. I’m not in love with her. I’m just trying protect her from getting hurt by that idiot.”

Luke leans in closer. "You look at her like she could change your life, and you roll your eyes every time James or another man is around, like it’s a personal attack on your precinct. And her? She’s just as torn, but she won’t admit it." Luke takes a moment before adding, "You two act like you're untouchable, like it’s just a working relationship, but that’s not true. You want each other. So stop lying to each other’s eyes."

Spencer opens his mouth, trying to say something, but then nothing comes to mind. What should he say? It’s the truth. But admitting that feels like losing all control. He feels weak and hurt, and the thought that Luke could see through it so easily doesn’t make it any better.

"I..." Spencer begins, but stops before he can reveal anything else. Instead, he turns back to his map and stares at the documents in front of him. He can’t look at Luke. "Just let it go," he says finally, his tone harsh. "I have to keep working; there’s still a lot to do." Luke sighs and shakes his head as he steps down from Spencer's desk. "You’re a stubborn man sometimes, you know that?" he says with a grin that shows no joy. "But if you keep getting in your own way, it’s no wonder you're wearing yourself out so much."

Spencer hears Luke walking away. But even now, Spencer can’t free himself from the thoughts that torment him. All this time, he believed he could control his feelings for you. But now that Luke brought it up so directly, he became painfully aware that he had become embroiled in something far more complicated than he had ever wanted to admit.

He looks back over to your desk, where you and James are still talking, but this time in a more relaxed manner. Spencer can almost feel the look James is giving you — and it’s driving him crazy. He snorts and tries to focus back on his work, but his thoughts keep drifting back to you. You are in his head, over and over, always have been. And the more he tries to ignore it, the stronger the feeling becomes. He can’t escape it.

At the end of the day, Spencer and you avoid each other. Spencer sinks back into his work, conversations with you are kept to a minimum, and at some point, you and James disappear together into a meeting that Spencer doesn’t even try to follow. It’s as if they are the only two sharing the room, while Spencer is lost in the loneliness in his head.

-

When all the work is finally done, the team decides to go to a bar to end the evening in a relaxed manner. Luke is now trying to persuade him to come along. "A little relaxation, a beer – that's good for everyone," he says. “Come on," Luke says. "You've been thinking about her and your stupid fight all day. A little fresh air, a beer, and a few relaxed conversations – that will do you good. And besides... it's always better to hang out with us than to sit around alone, right?" he asks.

"I don't know, man," Spencer grumbles as he stares at his book. "I'm really not in the mood to talk to people today." Luke shakes his head. "You say that every time. Come on. I'll get you a beer, and then we'll talk about something else. Otherwise, you'll go crazy!" Spencer sighs and looks at Luke.

"Will she be there too?" he asks, and Luke nods. Spencer knows you’ll still be mad at him, but he's a little relieved because it means that if you’re at the bar, at least you won't be spending the evening alone with James.

And even though Spencer doesn’t really want to be around, it’s way better than sitting in his room, thinking about you. So he gives in. "Okay, okay, I'll come with you. But if it gets too much for me, I'll leave," he says. “All right," Luke replies, immediately setting off and clapping his hands happily.

-

When they enter the bar, the mood is relaxed, and the music in the background isn’t too loud. It is a nice place – exactly what Spencer needs to clear his head. The stress of the day is suddenly far away, and he feels a little bit better. But when he looks around the room, he pauses for a moment.

At a table at the back of the bar, there are all the people from the police team they are working with on the current case. Spencer stops abruptly when he spots them. And to his horror, he notices that James– the guy who had been getting on his nerves all day – is there too.

But that isn’t the worst part. What upsets Spencer most is the sight of you. You are sitting right next to James again. He has a charming expression on his face as he explains something to you, and everything about his body language screams, "I'm interested in you." Spencer feels the wave of jealousy and frustration building up inside him again. "What the hell...?" he mutters quietly as he turns to look at Luke. "What are they doing here?"

Luke, who is heading towards the bar, looks around in confusion, then at Spencer. "What?" he asks. “All the people from the police team... and James. Why the hell are they here?" Spencer snorts as he tries to stay calm, but anger is seething inside him. Luke blinks and then looks around at the faces as well. "Uh..." he finally says, scratching his head.

“I didn't know they were invited too. I thought this was just for us. Really...?" He is visibly surprised. "That's weird. Well, whatever. We're here, they're here – it's not the end of the world, is it?" Luke says. “At least not for you," Spencer says and rolls his eyes. “I didn't know, man," Luke says apologetically. "If you want, we can leave. But I thought you wanted to distract yourself a little. Come on, it'll be fine."

Spencer really just wants to get out, but he knows he can’t just disappear without being noticed. The whole group already saw them, and it would be even weirder to just turn around and leave. So he takes a deep breath to stay calm. “I'm staying," Spencer finally says, even though the thought of just standing there almost drives him mad. "But if that guy talks to her like that again, then..."

"You're exaggerating," Luke says, patting Spencer on the shoulder. "Come on, let's get something to drink first, okay? That will make it easier to bear." Spencer nods, even though he feels the restlessness inside him. “I urgently need something to drink.” Luke grabs two beers for them, while Spencer just stands there, trying hard not to look in the direction of the table where you and James are sitting.

But every time his gaze happens to wander there, he feels his muscles tense. James is still talking to you, and this time he seems to be paying particular attention to you. Spencer can practically feel Jame’s gaze – the gaze of a man who wants more. “Man, you really have to relax. Running around like a caged tiger all the time isn't going to help you,” Luke says.

“The problem is, I don’t want to see him making out with her,” Spencer admits. “I mean, what the hell? We're working on the same case, and he..." He exhales sharply. "That guy is the last person I want to get along with."

Luke shakes his head, but his grin slowly disappears. "Okay, I understand. But if you really want to prevent him from getting involved with her, you have to pull yourself together, otherwise everything will just revolve around him. Just relax. Drink something, talk to the others. And if you really want to change something, you have to do something instead of just staring."

Spencer nods, but the restlessness inside him remains. While Luke puts the beer in front of him, Spencer continues to stare in the direction of the table where you and James are sitting, while an unpleasant feeling does not leave him alone. When Luke goes over to sit down at table next to yours where Rossi, Matt and Tara are sitting, he follows him lost in his thoughts.

-

Your POV

The evening in the bar is slowly dragging on, and you try to relax as much as possible. But despite the conversations and the more relaxed mood, there is this one constant feeling that you can't shake off: Spencer's gaze. You feel it all the time – not directly, but still clearly. Again and again, you notice how his eyes fix on you from a distance, every time you laugh or get into a conversation. And you know it isn’t a coincidence.

The jealousy in him is almost tangible, but you can also see his insecurity. It’s as if he’s losing himself in his own thoughts. He keeps clenching his fists, as if he can’t control the situation. And while you are angry at him – at the way he behaves, at the way he’s closing himself off from his feelings – you also feel some pity for him.

You are both caught in this kind of self-denial. You think that he might feel as much for you as you feel for him, but he just never really dared to admit it. He had always been a little distant at times – almost as if he didn’t want to get too close to you. Perhaps out of fear of admitting to himself that he felt more for you. And you? You aren’t much better. You never address your feelings for him directly, for fear that he wouldn't return them, or worse, would just ignore them.

When James had shown interest in you, it had been a painful but somehow useful moment. The sudden attention he’s giving you seems to be working – at least in theory. Penelope and Emily advised you to use the opportunity to make Spencer jealous. It’s a risky gamble, but you know it might be the only way to get Spencer to come out of his shell. You hesitated at first, but over time you realized that you had to at least try.

James is funny, has a quick quip on his lips, and manages to make you laugh. And while you get along well with him, you feel Spencer’s gaze only getting more intense from one moment to the next. It’s almost like an invisible competition – James is flirting with you, and Spencer is watching from afar without lifting a finger. Why is he doing that? Why can’t he just walk up to you and show you what he really feels?

Every time you notice Jame’s gaze on you, you also feel Spencer withdrawing more and more into himself, his eyes lowering to the table and occasionally playing with his hands. He seems to be struggling to pull himself together, but you know he’s seething inside. And you... you are angry at him, yes. Angry that he never made the first move, angry that he doesn’t dare to show you how he feels about you.

But at the same time, there’s also a little bit of pity, because you know how vulnerable he really is. He doesn’t want to admit that he feels the same way, and it’s easier for him to watch you from afar rather than face the fear that his feelings for you bring with them.

And then... the moment when James turns back to you and puts his hand on your arm as he whispers something in your ear – a joke, a charming compliment that you can barely hear - you see Spencer’s look out of the corner of your eye. He stares at you, his jaw clenched, and you can see the anger and jealousy building up inside him.

For a moment, you feel... powerful. And guilty at the same time. Is that really the right way? Is there really any point in provoking him like that? “You can calm down,” Penelope whispers to you as she sits down next to you. “He’s been looking at you like that all evening, and we all know he’ll have to make the first move at some point. He won’t be able to ignore it forever.”

You take a deep breath and nod, even though you are torn inside. What if it just doesn’t work? What if he never dares? And what if he just wants to keep you in the friend zone without ever crossing the line? You look over to Spencer again – his eyes are still on you, but this time there is something different in his gaze. Doubt? Hurt?

“He just needs to see that you’re no longer available,” Emily says, as she advised you. “And then he’ll react. It’s just a matter of time.” James asks for another drink and turns back to you with a charming smile. Spencer’s gaze continues to burn into your back. But now that you’ve dared to use the situation to your advantage, you know: It’s a risky game, but perhaps the only thing you can do to bring the truth to light. You didn’t even know he would get this jealous.

But you can’t bring yourself to spend the whole evening here and continue to be stuck in this tension. It’s too much. “I’m going to the bathroom for a minute,” you say with a slight smile that is more polite than genuine joy. You turn to James, who is about to lean toward you again. “I’ll be right back.”

He nods and gives you a meaningful smile. “Sure, take your time. I’ll wait for you here.” You stand up, run your fingers through your hair, and walk toward the bathroom, looking over your shoulder once more to scan the room behind you. Your eyes immediately find the one spot that turns your stomach: Spencer.

He is still sitting in his seat, and you feel the atmosphere between you thickening. He has seen you. And you cannot miss his eyes – they are burning in your direction, as if they are blocking out everything else. It’s that look that you’ve felt from him too many times – a look that doesn’t let you go, a look that is full of anger and uncertainty at the same time. And yet, there is something else.

You pause for a moment when you notice that he’s watching you intensely. A brief hesitation, then you give him a look – almost like a small awakening between the two of you. It’s the moment when everything around you seems to go quiet. A moment that only exists between you and him.

Luke, who had been following the whole scene with a watchful eye, turned to Spencer when he noticed you moving away from your seat. “It’s now or never, Spencer,” he says, his tone serious. “If you really want her, now’s your chance. You have to do something. Otherwise, she’ll go back to him.”

Spencer glanced nervously in your direction as he saw you heading to the bathroom. For a moment, he just stared, then he abruptly stood up, dropped his beer back on the table, and walked in the direction you had disappeared.

-

You are washing your hands when the door opens behind you and Spencer appears. He walks towards you, his gaze hard and determined, but also somehow… vulnerable. The determination in his eyes reveals that he hasn’t come here without a conversation.

"Spencer?" you ask, and he takes a deep breath. Then he says in a tone so hard and yet so quiet that you can practically feel the inner conflict within him: "I don't want you to go back to him." You look at him, completely surprised by the sudden turn of events. Your eyes narrow slightly as you consider the words. "What?"

Spencer seems to force himself to repeat it again as he takes a step closer. "I don't want you to go back to him," he repeats, and this time it sounds final.

"Why?" you ask challengingly. Now that he said it like that, he sounds even more jealous than he did this morning in the office.

"Because I want to be the one," he finally says. His words hit you like a bolt of lightning. "I want to be the one who makes you laugh. I want to be the one who touches you, who tells you... things you want to hear. Not him. Me." For a moment, there is silence between the two of you. The words he had just said hang in the air.

You look at him—really, for the first time in a while, you see him clearly. Without the wall of insecurity and reserved distance that he had always built around himself. Without the anger that he had shown you again and again since he came back from prison.

"Why didn't you say that earlier? I could never be sure. I tried to talk to you but most of the time you were so distant," you finally say. “Because I... because I didn't know how," Spencer says. "I didn't know what you really felt. And... I didn't want to lose you. After everything that had happened with Maeve, then my time in prison... I was just afraid that you would be taken away from me too."

You look deep into his eyes. He loves you. For a long time. But he never admitted it to himself. He let himself be too guided by the fear of having lost too much if he had said it. And you? You hesitated just as long. But this moment... this moment is the turning point. Now you know.

"I don't want to lose you either, Spencer," you say quietly. For a moment, he just stands there and looks at you, but then he takes a step closer, and suddenly the distance between you is gone. Without another word, he pulls you towards him. His lips find yours, and in that kiss is everything you've ever wanted.

You run your hands through his hair, something you always wanted to do, and press yourself closer against him. He kisses down your neck, grazing a spot with his teeth before he bits down, leaving a hickey. Then leans closer to your ear and a shiver runs down your spine. In that moment, when the two of you finally give in to your desires, something snaps.

“You were driving me crazy today, angel. I had to hold myself together all day while he was busy flirting with you. But you’re mine.” He goes back to kissing you, exploring your mouth with his tongue and biting down on your lip. You press even closer against him. “Touch me, Spence, please,” you whisper, but he pulls back and chuckles. “Now you want me to touch you? After you spend the whole day hanging out with this idiot?” he says, not giving you what you want right away after what happened today.

“Yes, please. I only want you,” you say, roaming your hands over his body but he turns you around and your back presses against the wall. “Woah, Spence,” you squeak but he shuts you up by pressing another kiss to your lips. His hands begin to slowly trail underneath your top and squeeze your breasts through your bra. “We’re leaving. Now. I waited way too long for this. I’m not going to fuck you in a bathroom, at least not now,” he says with a smirk on his lips and you clench your thighs together in excitement.

He leans down to place one last kiss on your mouth before he takes your hand and pulls you out of the bathroom after him. He doesn’t even bother to tell the others you are leaving now, the only thought in his mind being you. To your advantage, the hotel is almost directly across from the bar. It's only about a 10 minute walk, but this time it feels even shorter as Spencer takes long, quick steps to get there as quickly as possible.

When you stand in front of the door of his room Spencer let’s go of your hand to reach for the keys in his bag. As soon as unlocks the door he pushes you in and closes the door before pressing you against the next wall. You can feel how hard he already is. His mouth is back on your neck in instant, kissing the spot where he left the hickey.

His hands trail back under your top again, but this time he immediately unclasps your bra. He squeezes one of your nipples before tugging at your top to show you that he wants it off. You help him and begin to open the buttons of his shirt too before it joins your top on the floor. While kissing you Spencer guides you to the bed and when your knees hit the bed frame you drop with your back on the bed.

Spencer takes the opportunity to take off your jeans and underwear in one motion, taking a step back to admire you from afar. “You’re so beautiful. And all mine,” he says, his eyes sparkling with lust. He comes closer and leans down, placing kisses all over your body and you keep running your fingers through his hair. It’s even softer than you thought. When he leaves another hickey you tug at his hair, earning a groan from him.

To hear this sound coming from him turns you on more than you could’ve imagined and you can feel yourself getting even wetter. Spencer’s head is now going down, in between your legs, kissing your inner thighs before running a finger through your folds. “You’re so wet. Is this all for me?” he asks, slipping a finger inside you. “Only for you, Spence,” you moan, lifting your hips to show him you want more.

But he stops and pulls away from you. “No, you’re not allowed to move,” he says with a smirk on his face. “Why not?” you ask, eagerly waiting for him to continue his actions. “Because I said so,” he simply says and then you understand. He wants to make you wait and even more desperate for him. It’s some kind of power play, he wants to show you that he’s the one who is in charge.

“Listen to me and I’ll give you what you want,” he says while his finger slowly trails circles on your clit. “Do you understand?” he asks, locking eyes with you. “Yes, I understand,” you say. All you want is for him to keep touching you, it’s addictive. “Good girl,” he says before slipping his fingers back inside you. You shiver and he immediately notices the affect the words have on you.

“Interesting. You like being called a good girl, am I right?” he asks, thrusting his fingers deeper inside you. “Ye - yes,” you whisper. “I can’t hear you,” he says while you try to hold yourself back to not arch into his touch like he told you to. “Yes, I - I like it,” you say. He seems satisfied with your answer and adds another finger. You feel the pleasure shoot right through you and you’re afraid you’re are no longer able to control your body.

“Please, I’m so close,” you whimper but he stops again. He‘s definitely driving you crazy. “No. I want you to come on my tongue,” Spencer says and leans down, immediately licking a stripe up your pussy before sucking on your clit. “Oh…” you exhale at the warm feeling of his tongue. “You taste even better than I imagined,” he says. You feel him moaning against you and a shiver runs down your spine when he swirls his tongue around your clit.

His hands push into your thighs, making sure to keep them apart to keep on eating you out. Then he adds a finger and your entire body is on edge. You start to lose yourself in the pleasure and when you look down and see his head buried between your thighs, diving restlessly into you, you start to lose yourself.

“Spence, I - can I -“ you are no longer able to form a sentence, far too lost in the pleasure already. You’re glad he decides against teasing you for it this time. “Come on my tongue, angel,” he says and sucks on your clit to set you over the edge. Your orgasms crashes over you and you keep moaning his name when you come. Spencer chuckles and comes up to kiss you, giving you a moment to recover. You can taste yourself on his lips and push your tongue in his mouth.

“Need you now, Spence. Please,” you whisper in his ear. “What do you need, angel? You have to tell me,” he says. “You Spence - I need you inside me.” His hands reach for his belt and he unclasps it before unbuttoning his pants and pulling down the zipper. He pulls is pants and boxers down and your gaze wanders down his body and your eyes widen when you see his cock. He is bigger than expected, his tip already glistening with pre-cum.

He begins to stoke his cock lazily, enjoying the look you give him. “I don’t have a condom,” he says when he leans down to you. “I’m on birth control,” you tell him as you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him in to give him a kiss. You can feel how he lines your cock up your entrance, slowly sliding through your folds and over your clit to tease you.

“Spence, I need you inside me now,” you say and lift your hips again but he gives you a disappointed look. “I thought I told you not to move?” he says, pressing you back down with one of his hands. “I - I forgot. And it’s not fair when you drive me crazy the whole time,” you say and he chuckles. “Look at you, so desperate for my cock. Well, if you don’t want me to drive you crazy then I’m going to fuck you stupid, is that what you want?” he asks. “Yes Spence, please, fuck me,” you breath out and he finally pushes inside you.

“Fuck,” he sighed when he feels you clench around him. “I can get used to this.” You never felt so full before. He starts to thrust in and out of you, hitting your G- spot. You wrap your legs around his waist and feel him even deeper inside of you. “Harder,” you beg him and his thrusts become more intense as he fucks you faster and deeper. “You feel so good wrapped around my cock. So wet and warm, just for me. Tell me, who does this pussy belongs to?” he says and grabs your hips harder, his fingers digging into the skin, leaving bruises there.

Your mind is going blank at the pleasure and you’re not able to answer him. But then one of his hands leaves your hips and grabs your hair, pulling your head back. You moan and open your eyes to see Spencer looking down at you. “I asked you a question. Answer me,” he says, his eyes sparkling with lust. “You - belongs to you, Spence,” you moan and grab his back to hold your shaking body steady. You’re close now, Spencer can feel it too.

“Yes, all mine. I’m the one who gets to fuck you,” he says and he thrusts so deep inside you that you can’t help but arch your back. Spencer can feel that you’re close and he starts to circle your clit with his thumb again. “I want you to come for me, now,” he says and you let go. Your orgasms hits you and you moan his name when you come, feeling his cock twitching inside of you before he finishes too.

He pulls out of you and collapses next to you on the bed. He places a gentle kiss on your head. “Are you okay?” he asks. You nod, still exhausted and not able to form any words. He pulls you into his arms and starts to stroke your hair. “I’m glad you’re all mine now,” he says and you turn your head to look into his eyes. “My heart always belonged to you, Spence. And that will never change,” you say, cuddling closer to him. “I love you so much,” he says and strokes your cheek gently.

You lean forward to kiss him. “I love you too, especially when you get jealous,” you say with a smirk on your lips. He rolls his eyes jokingly and he pokes your ribs, causing you to giggle. “Hey, stop that!” you say, trying to hold down his hands, effortlessly. You’re underneath him in a heartbeat and he starts to kiss down your neck again. “I’m far from done with you tonight, angel.”

[wosofutbolfan]

I Am Woman, Hear Me Roar

Alexia Putellas x Explorer!R

8.5k Fluff, Fun, Minor Angst

Hi Guys,

This is pt4. in the 'I Would Climb Every Mountain With You" otherwise known as Explorer!R Universe. TW: description of killing an animal.

Highly recommend you read those 3 first, as this is entrenched in lore. Pt 1 can be found here.

It's developed from an ask I received from @karsonromanoff so thank you so much for the idea! I hope I did it justice and I'm sorry for the delay and the words. ha.

This is the first time I've written since my dad died. I'm not being emo or heavy about it but I am asking to please, be kind. I know there's nice people out there but often they're drowned out by the loud haters.

So throw us a comment, like or reblog if you enjoyed. I'm just trying to get back into something that brought me joy. I know I enjoyed writing it.

Also, may be weird for a fic about a spanish gay footballer, but you probably need a good working knowledge of Bear Grylls to understand 80% of this. ha.

As has become tradition, here's the song running though my head when writing! Yes, my music taste remains to be that of someone born in 1962. God love Helen Reddy.

“Vamos Ale! I don’t like to make Miguel wait…” you shout from the kitchen, bag resting on the countertop as you try to fix your bracelet with your left hand,

“Deja de preocuparte, a él no le importa, I will be one minute…” you head called back from the bedroom where your wife had been getting dressed for 2 hours now.

Yes.

Your wife.

Sometimes you couldn’t believe it.

Sometimes the weight of the band on your finger catches you by surprise and you’d remember.

Sometimes Alexia would place her hand on your bare thigh and you could feel the cool metal on your skin and you’d remember.

Sometimes you’d get called “Mrs Putellas” at a school talk, or at the Doctors, and you’d remember.

It felt so natural that sometimes you’d forget that you weren’t always Alexia's wife.

But now you are. And had been for almost 6 months. And married life couldn’t have suited you more.

Your wedding ring was your new favourite accessory, you never took it off.

In a fire you would save Alexia and your ring.

Maybe even your ring first.

It was embossed with the imprint of grass that Alexia has been collecting from each pitch of each game she had played in since you had met. The intricate design brought tears to your eyes as soon as you saw it. Made even worse by the inscription “’cause you are my goal”. 

You would be embarrassed if Alexia hadn’t cried like a toddler when you presented her with the ring you had made for her, which had rock from each of the 7 peaks you had scaled, as well as a granule of sand from the Dead Sea set within it. Integrated into the metal, visible but smooth to the touch. 

The inscription 'every mountain high, every valley low' on the inside of the band.

You knew you’d done good and you knew your Ale well enough to anticipate the absolute mess she would be when presented with it, ensuring you had a pocket full of tissues for the inevitable waterfall.

You weren’t wrong.

You had to assure a passing couple on the trail you had chosen that she was fine, not having a medical incident and you were definitely not mid break-up but in fact exchanging wedding bands early because you knew your fiance well enough she didn’t need her teammates to witness this much of her soft side.

Though you tried, they still saw enough on your wedding day to tease her for the last 6 months with no sign of slowing down.

Though right now your wife's behaviour was nothing but unexpected. You had agreed to attend one of Alexia's events this evening. Since getting married you had felt more of a duty to attend and make up for the years you’d left her carrying her own handbag whilst you trotted over mountains on the other side of the world. 

She insisted that you didn’t have to. Like she always did. You weren’t one for the fancy dresses and the flashing cameras. But you saw the gleam of hope in her eyes as she insisted she would be fine on her own.

You couldn’t let that sparkle dim.

Also you had to set off for a camp in a few days and you had gotten seriously stuck in the honeymoon phase meaning that an evening without your wife by your side wasn’t something you could stomach.

Not that you would admit to being so clingy.

But it wasn’t like Ale to take so long to get ready, neither of you being particularly fussy, usually she would throw on some light makeup, smack your bum whilst you ate nutella off a knife under the hob light, procrastinating getting ready until she dragged you and dropped you into the ensuite, steal a kiss and a spray of perfume, and wait for you whilst watching old football clips in the living room.

But now, as you still struggled to attach the clasp of your bracelet and you had one eye on the poor Barca driver, Miguel, waiting in your driveway, you started to grow frustrated at your wife's sudden vanity.

You smelt her perfume invading your senses as you felt her arms envelope you from behind, moving your uncoordinated left hand away and easily attaching the clasp of your bracelet for you, pressing a kiss to your neck as she did so.

“Finalmente… Let’s g-...” you spoke as you turned in her embrace, finally taking in her attire which stopped you in your tracks.

“Boobs”

You had suddenly turned into a 14 year old boy and you couldn’t explain it.

You had seen your wife naked hundreds of times.

Hundreds of fantastic times.

But here she stood looking, regal. Her hair falling lightly over her face, her dark sparkly dress with wide shoulders and only what you could describe as a boob portal you had been rendered speechless. Mouth gaping open like a fish.

“...Amor?...” you heard the delight in her voice. “Are you listening to me… my eyes are up here.” she jokingly clicked her fingers in front of your face which took you out of your breast-inspired trance.

“Ale you are so beautiful” you looked deeply into her eyes but you didn’t miss the blush rising from her neck. And you meant it. She was. Wow. 

“Do you like it?” she asked, shyly, “You don’t think it’s too much? It’s just the first event we’ve gone to together since we got married and I wanted to…”

You interrupt her but pressing a kiss to her lips, and, well, if you slipped a little tongue in there then fine. She was your wife after all.

“What? Show the world what they're missing out on? I am so proud to stand by your side, my love.” you whispered into her lips, as you toyed with her wedding band. 

You couldn’t help yourself…”and your boobs are fantastic.” 

She barked out a laugh as you leaned back into where you left off, but she took a step back, her heel clicking against the tile floor, to which you let out an annoyed grumble.

“Oi Oi, Mi Amor. What about poor Miguel, he is waiting, Si?” she teased.

“He doesn’t care… Cálla y bésame.”

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You took a deep breath and leaned back on your chair at the round table you found yourself at. Alexia had been pulled from your side which she had stuck to like glue all evening,  to go and present the final award of the evening which she had just done, very sexily if you do say so yourself. All confident and boob-y.

You smiled, imagining her now making small talk backstage, eyes bored but a smile plastered on her face as she tried to make her way back to your table.

Your other table-mates seemed to take the opportunity of the break in the ceremony to raid the free bar put on by the charity. Which seemed very uncharitable of them. But, as you toyed with the rim of your glass, who were you to judge?

Stomach full from a mediocre-mass produced meal and head happily fuzzy from the bubbles you had consumed you found yourself oddly satisfied as you sat here. In this conference room-turned auditorium in the middle of Barcelona, here, loudly and proudly as Alexia's wife.

Mrs Putellas.

You couldn’t help but smile to yourself, you felt weirdly grown-up. With your wife, your house, and your business. You blinked and missed yourself becoming so settled and for once in your life you weren’t terrified of the idea.

You saw the glint in Alexia's eye. When Irene and her wife would come round for dinner and bring their kid. She’d surrender all hostess duties and sit on the living room floor, crawling around at the beck and call of whatever imaginary game the 5 year old insisted on. You’d seen her perfect her lion roar in that very spot. It probably matched the glint in yours when you were grocery shopping and a child being pushed in a trolley would go past shoving cookies into the trolley without their Mother seeing.

Maybe, you thought, maybe it was time…

“It is you! I am so sorry to interrupt. I had to come over to introduce myself. I am such a fan…”

You glanced around, expecting Alexia to be standing over your shoulder and smiling politely at the person who had approached your table to meet her… but you were met with blank space and then you engaged your silly brain and realised the person was speaking English and looking at you and…

Oh My God.

It’s Bear Grylls.

“Oh My God. You’re Bear Grylls.” 

You let out. 

Stupidly.

Standing and thrusting your hand out like an idiot to your legitimate childhood hero.

You and your brother would watch his series for hours as children. Sat cross-legged 2 inches from the TV on your living room floor, eating up every second of his adventures. Your mum had to stop you from eating a woodlouse once in your garden because you’d seen him eat a cricket in the Amazon the evening before. Your brother smacked upside the head for trying to drink a cup of his own wee for the same reason.

Now you were a well-seasoned adventurer yourself you knew that all of that was for theatricks. 

You had spent more than 7 weeks wandering the Amazon yourself once, and not one drop of urine passed your lips. Not one 8 legged insect had you gulped down in one.

But still.

Hero.

He took your hand graciously, as you both sat back down you prepared to barrage him with questions but before you could he jumped right in…

“I have been wanting to meet you for years. But my team said you had disappeared off to Spain and couldn’t be tracked down. Please, I've been desperate to know. .. Tell me all about summiting Orjas del Salado…”

So you told him, and you asked him about his adventures, and you chatted for what could have been hours, sharing stories and advice with Bear-fucking-Grylls.

He blushed as you pointed out his for-TV tricks and you thanked him for being a portal into the wider world from your living room.

At some point you felt Alexia return, a strong hand on your shoulder. You paused your monologue about Patagonia and giddily took her hand in yours, introducing them to each other. 

Polite pleasantries exchanged you could tell she had legitimately no idea what was going on or who this middle-aged English guy at your table was, but judging from your excited eyes, she didn’t need to interrupt.

It didn’t take too long for someone from his team to pull him away for an interview with the charity. But as you stood to say your goodbyes he made an offer, “You know, me and the production company are making a special about survival in the Alps… I would love for you to be a guest star.”

You stood there like a gaping fish for a moment. “Really?” you asked, in wonder, your 7 year old self spinning around in glee in your chest. Alexia smiling up at you from her chair at the joy in your voice.

“Of course! I would be honored, it’s especially about how to survive in an Avalanche situation. Obviously, with what happened in Nepal…you are an expert in that fie…”

At that point, Alexia stopped her polite silence she had been maintaining whilst you had your moment with your childhood hero. And abruptly stood, clutching your hand hard in both of hers, stern look on her face.

“No.”

From the look on his face you gathered that this successful upper-middle class white English man had not been told no too often, and a beat of silence followed which Alexia was more than happy to fill.

“Sorry Señor Oso. She doesn’t do snow now. Thank you for the offer though.”

She said it with such finality that even you didn’t think to question it. Her mis-translation brought a smile to your face. Her hands still encompassed yours, her eyes didn’t leave his face. As though daring him to rebuff her.

He looked at you as though to confirm she could answer for you. Of course she could. But you knew this refusal wasn’t just about you, but about her also. You knew the anxiety it would cause her for you to put yourself in that situation wasn’t worth anything on this planet.

Nevermind the trauma it would dredge up for you. So obviously, you agreed.

“Sorry Mr Grylls. Not my rodeo anymore. I’ve got some contacts though who you could work with” you politely confirmed your refusal and felt Alexias hands lessen their grip on yours in relief.

“No, no, of course. Sorry. But no. I would really love for you to be involved in the series. We have an episode about promoting women in outdoor pursuits. It's still on the drawing board, but if you are interested I’ll get our people to liaise with each other!”

“That sounds amazing but… I don’t have any people for you to…”

“Don’t be silly Mi Amor” Alexia interrupts again, hand still in yours and the other expertly reaching into her clutch and pushing a card into his outstretched hand… “We have people. Please, Oso, be in touch.”

Smiling vaguely and confusedly at your wife, still clearly mildly terrified of her, he takes the card as he's dragged away by his handler. He's probably still in hearing distance as you squeal in glee and throw yourself into your wife's arms, making her spin with the momentum.

“Ale, Ale, Ale!!! Do you know who that was….” you exclaim.

She can’t help but laugh aloud at your antics, soft look on her face as she lifts you lightly off the ground to stop your spin.

“Si Mi Amor, ese era el hombre oso de la televisión. Tu favorito.” she replies with a smile on her face, speaking softly, somehow, in the middle of this event where she was the guest star, making you feel as though you were the only person in the universe.

“No.” you corrected “..eres mi favorito.” You sealed your words with a light kiss to her lips, chaste but warm.

“Ah, Si. And you have had some wine. You always get soft after wine.” she lightly rolls her eyes with affection at your gushing over her.

It’s your turn to roll your eyes as you pull her into a soft sway, your childhood hero quickly forgotten now you’re in the company of your wife.

Though the giddiness in your bones from your encounter remains.

“Si the wine.” you agree moving your lips close to her ear as you whisper, breath dancing against her cheek, your hand moves to her chest and you feel her breath falter at your closeness,

“but also your boobs.” and you quickly poke her exposed chest between her breasts before she can stop you, and you move away from her pulling her behind you as you rush off to the bar.

“Amor!” she cackles.

“Vamos Ale! A La Barra!”

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Estoy Muerta.”

You grumble in complaint into the chest of the warm and moving pillow that you had clearly settled on in the night.

“Shh Ale.”

“Me estoy muriendo y a mi esposa no le importa.”

“You are not dying Ale. You are hungover and over 30”, you mumble in reply, moving away from resting on her chest, the heat becoming too much for your own fuzzy brain.

“Explain to me how that is different.” she doesn’t take kindly to your light chuckle in reply, as you move your hand to cover your eyes from the sunlight starting to bleed through the curtains.

You peek an eye open and see the remnants of your previous night strewn across the bedroom floor.

You take in the glorious dress of your wifes thrown across your chest of drawers. You recall unzipping it with your mouth after making very good use of the boob portal. Much to Alexia's delight.

You had probably taken it a little bit too far at the bar. Your giddiness let your binge-drinking brit out a little too much.

You had a flash of memory at dancing on a table at a dive bar in the town centre, before being brought down by Alba who you had called and demanded come and dance the night away.

Meanwhile Alexia had been in the corner trying to drunkenly explain to Mapi a set of complicated tactics that they should try out at an additional training session in the morning.

“I thought you had scheduled extra training today Ale” you teased after taking in her pasty complexion as you rolled over and settled back down onto your, cooler, side of the bed.

“I hate you.” she replied, quite seriously, as she moulded herself against your back, taking your hand in hers and burying her face into the back of your neck.

“Of course you do, dear, it feels like it.” you tease again, wiggling yourself and making her grumble again.

You rest there for a few moments, before you’re dragged onto your back again and pulled into Alexia's embrace as she moves you around like her own personal teddy bear.

You go with the flow, quite used to your wife's clingy nature, especially when she didn't feel well.

But your silence doesn’t last two minutes before she rolls you over again, now onto your back, “Oh bloody hell, where are we going now.” you mumble, as she rests her head on your chest this time, nuzzling into your breasts.

“me estoy poniendo cómodo.” she mutters into your bosom, “allá. ahora estoy cómodo”. You run your hands through her hair, smiling down at your wife who is practically purring at the attention.

“Bebé…”, you make a noise of affirmation.

“Will you…” you know what she wants, and you know she must be feeling bad if she’s asking for attention.

“Si, my love. voy a trenzar tu cabello. One big plait or lots of little ones?”. 

“The tingly ones por favor” she mumbles into your chest. Your heart expands at her adorableness, never quite learning the English for ‘french plait’ they became known as the ‘tingly ones’ in your household, because of the feeling she would get as you plaited her wet hair after a game, hands working through her scalp. 

It brings a smile to your face and you can see the lovesick smile on hers where it is squished against your chest.

You start to section out her hair as she lies still, your ministrations slowly putting her to sleep, working methodically in the quiet morning.

Moving strand over strand in intricate braids, lightly tugging her scalp and undoing when it's not perfect and redoing, giving her an extra scratch to the soft skin behind her ear when you get there, knowing it's her most sensitive spot. Receiving a sleepy purr in satisfaction as your reward.

You hear the animals from the national park outside, feel the sun starting to warm the room around you. Her chest rising and falling against yours hypnotising you further into the moment. You’ve got grand plans, brunch and a walk along the beach in your mind, maybe a lazy afternoon swim, hold on no. Maybe a lazy afternoon skinny dip. Yeah.

That sounds good.

You’ve almost finished tying off the last plait when you are startled back into the moment by the buzzing of your wifes phone on the bedslide table.

You fight back a smile at the groan that is emitted from your fully grown-pro-athlete-wife.  It resembled that of a teenager who’d been asked to clean their room or no dessert. When she doesn’t go to make a move you nudge her shoulder.

“Ale. Ale, your phone."

“No.”

“Yes."

“No."

“C'mon Ale.” you reach across and pick the phone up. “It could be important. It could be your secret wife wondering where you are.”

She rolls off you at your tease, throwing you a glare that resembles more of an angry kitten than anything, “It could not be, she knows where I am. I snuck out whilst you were dancing on the tables in that last bar to make plans for dinner.”

“Ah, Si of course. My mistake.”

She surges up and gives you a completely unnecessary chaste kiss, as though even the joke is too much and she has to confirm she’s kidding. The phone has stopped vibrating against the bedside table and the silence that settles over you both is welcome.

“How are you so okay? I feel like I have been run over by a truck.” she states as she rubs her face, finally sitting up to start the day.

“You are old.

“I am 2 months older than you.”

“Two, very long, months my darling.” you tap her cheek lightly as you move to get out of bed, throwing on one of her oversized t-shirts you find on the floor.

“Seria, how?” she asks again, now sprawling across the space you have vacated.

“I am English. I once did a vodka shot through my eyeball in the park. I was 14.” you state, plainley, eyebrow raised in challenge as she just looks at you, open mouthed.

“Ojalá no hubiera preguntado.” she mutters, as her phone starts to ring again.

“Ale, phone.” you say, just to annoy her.

“¡lo sé!” you hear thrown at you, as you head downstairs to set some food out for Billy-the-Goat, and make a coffee for your dying wife.

Soon after, you feel her presence behind you as you stir her coffee, turning as you feel her hands wrap around your waist and presenting her coffee and she takes it from you as though it's a ballon d’or. She takes a sip before she presses a kiss to your head.

“That was my agent.”

Your heart drops, and you can’t help the petulant whine that leaves your lips.

“No, Ale! I wanted to spend the day together. Try that new brunch place Alba told us about. Have a swim, just be together. Whatever brand needs you can wait. Tell them no, please” you finish your little monologue with a pout, and you feel a childish frustration rise as a laugh teases against her lips.  You don’t get very far when a kiss is pressed against your lips.

“Well that sounds like the perfect hangover cure Mi Amor. Do you not want me to tell you what it is before I tell them no though?” there's something in her taunt, a glint in the eye that makes you think twice as your mouth already wraps around the refusal.

You take a moment too long apparently, and she takes things into her own hands as she clutches her coffee happily and spins around, “I’ll tell them no! Don’t worry Mi Amor…” teasing lilt in her tone. Whatever the news is, it has pulled her from her hangover.

You wait a beat

Another.

“Fine, What is it!” you groan out in defeat, hands raised to the sky, Alexias t-shirt riding high on your thighs as you raise your arms.

Your wife turns and is distracted momentarily by the flesh on display. Before you cough and she remembers what she's supposed to be doing. Coy smile on her face returning.

“That was my agent…” you huff out at her drawing out the anticipation. “Or should I say our agent.” your brow furrows in confusion as she continues… “she has been contacted by a muy interesado oso.”

Realisation starts to dawn on you, memories of the previous night flashing in your mind and you can’t help the grin that forms.

“Si, Mi Amor. It turns out he really meant it. She said they were willing to offer anything to get you on. She’s getting the details now and will contact us again after our day together today to see if you are interested”.

“I am interested!” you exclaim with glee, Alexia throwing her head back in laughter.

“I know Amor, but let's let them sell it to you. You need the details. Though… I am sure it is no more dangerous than ojos de vodka.”

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Hola, love!” you shout into your empty hallway, hands full of groceries, you shuck off your trainers, hearing them thump against the wall as you struggle into the kitchen.

Tonight was the premiere of “Man Vs Woman” , the special episode of your and Bear's adventure. After the offer was made you met with the TV production company via Zoom to go through ideas.

You pretended you didn’t know Alexia was standing just outside the door to your study, listening and clearly deciding if she thought it was too dangerous or not. At least that's what you deduced from her interrupting with a cup of tea every time a particularly hairy idea was mentioned.  

When you brought this up with her you pretended you didn't see her blush creeping up from her neck. Because you’re her wife and it was the wifely thing to do.

The concept was a really cool one. You were excited from the start. The idea was that you and Bear would both be dropped in an inhospitable environment with a map and a knife and nothing else. Neither of you would be told what type of environment but you had assurances in your contract that it wouldn’t involve snow. You had 28 days to get to the muster point. Whoever got there first won.

Simple.

Convincing Alexia it was really cool. Less simple.

“Amor what if there are animals!”

“I know how to avoid dangerous animals. And there will be a medical team on standby,”

“What if you fall and cut yourself on your knife."

“What if you get tackled and break your leg?”

“That's different. What if you lose your map and can’t find your way out and you have to live out there forever”

“I will always find my way back to you.”

“What If-”

“Ale.”

You stopped her rambling with a kiss and when you pulled away you looked deeply in her eyes.

“Que pasa I miss you too much?” eyes wide and vulnerable.

There we go. Her real source of anxiety.

You had spent more time apart than most couples but since you scaled down your travels you had fallen into a sweet domesticity you could admit was a struggle to pull yourself from. 28 days plus the week before to get to the location is longer than you’d like. But it was an adventure of a lifetime. Maybe… maybe your last adventure? The thoughts had been creeping in more and more recently.

Of early mornings chasing more than sunrises, maybe rising due to a baby's babble instead?

You’d made sure that Alexia really knew how much you’d miss her the night before you flew out. On reflection maybe you should have rested your muscles a little more before such a physically demanding month but. Be serious. Look who your wife was. 

You are not God's strongest soldier.

So, off you had gone. Competing against your childhood hero for all of womanhood. And you couldn’t lie. You loved it.

Being blindfolded and dropped in an unknown location was exhilarating. Learning the land as you went, with only a map and a knife in hand it was one of the biggest challenges of your life.

The team had made good on their promise and the tropical rainforest you were in couldn’t be further from a snowy mountain range.

You’d refused to let anything slip to Alexia in the 3 months you’d been back. Lips tightly sealed no matter what she tried. You wanted her to be surprised and watch it in real time with you. In all the games you'd attended since you had to deal with an injured Mapi yapping your ear off whilst you tried to concentrate on the game, probing for hints about if you won, what you won, where you were, if you wrestled a snake, how big was the snake you’d wrestled.

“Maria stop with the snake!” you’d finally snapped during the tense quarter final of the Queen's cup.

Which had worked.

For all of two seconds.

“What did the snake taste like?”

You’d originally planned to go home to England with Alexia to watch the premier with your family. But then a schedule mess-up in the league had meant that Ale had to play in a rescheduled game the day after the premier. It just didn’t work for her to come to England.

She insisted you still go, but you refused. You wanted to watch her game. And you knew she’d need you when the show was on. Even if she didn’t know that yet.

You started to unpack your groceries mindlessly, you’d picked some great snacks for the evenings viewing, you suddenly were hit with how suspiciously peaceful your house was, though, you were sure you’d seen Alexia's car in the drive.

“Ale! Love!, ¡Estoy en casa! Come help me unpack!” You shouted into your empty kitchen, back turned to your living room, you had a few hours before the show was on air, “I got that ice-cream you like! I know it gives you a tummy ache sometimes but don’t worry, I'll rub your tummy how you like afte…”

“Amor!”

You turned around at the panic in her voice, “Wha–”

“SURPRISE!”

Ale stood in your living area, face reddening, surrounded by her closest Barca teammates as well as Mario, his ever pregnant wife and his kids, your mum and brother as well as Eli and Alba. Everyone comically in paper party hats and some lop-sided bunting was up above your couch,

“HOPE YOU BEAT THE BEAR SNAKE!” it read, and you immediately knew who was on the decoration committee.

You jumped in surprise, dropping the ice cream and immediately ran into your mum's open arms, “Mum! You’re here!” you squealed into her neck, hiding the tears that had appeared in her presence.

“I am, love. Alexia literally wouldn’t let us refuse the flight. She pretended she didn’t understand English when we tried to at least pay for it. And you know I have a 265 day streak on duolingo but my accent must need work because she didn’t understand my Spanish.”

You pulled yourself from her neck with a wet laugh and transferred yourself into your wifes open and familiar strong arms. “Aleeee” you whined. She knew you meant thank you. And I love you. And you mean the world to me. But you were too British to do that infront of people.

“You need to stop pretending you don’t speak English when you don’t like what you hear.” you muttered without malice after placing a kiss below her ear.

“I know amor. I love you too. And your family needed to be here for your big moment! You couldn’t miss this with them because of me. And then also. Mapi happened and now we’re having a viewing party! There's a cake!”

“And Ice Cream Ale! Don’t worry, I’ve saved it! Though we don’t want your barriga to hu-” Mapi stands the space you'd just vacated holding up the abandoned and slightly battered carton of ice cream. She's stopped from her gleeful teasing by Ingrid covering her entire face with one big palm.

“We wanted to be here to support you.” Ingrid interrupted her girlfriend, addressing you kindly.

“We all did!” you hear from Alba in the back, already tucking into the buffet set up on the coffee table, paper hat skew-whiff on her head. You have never felt so loved. It was perfect.

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“So, when are you going to tell her you’re ready for them?”

You are brought out of your daydream by Ingrid sidling up to you and addressing you with her familiar soft lilt.

“Huh?”

She doesn’t reply vocally, just nods her head towards your wife, who is currently having a very intense game of 2v2 in your garden with 2 of Marios youngest and Mapi.

The kids little legs making them toddle around after the small ball adorably, Mapi and Ale giving soft touches they would easily catch up with.

You can’t help but laugh out loud as Ale takes Mapi by surprise and takes a shot against her hard, the ball catching her bare thigh in a manner which must have left a sting much to the small Spaniard's disdain.

Her and the two kids start to chase Alexia around the garden, dramatically tackling her as she suddenly becomes some sort of football monster, rolling around and blowing raspberries on their stomachs as Mapi cheers her toddler army on from the sidelines.

You feel another knock against your arm, dislodging your hand which is supporting your head as you lean over the breakfast bar facing the garden. Lovesick looks clearly on your face, going off Ingrid's coy smile.

“You know, barn. Kids. Munchkins…”

“Yeah, Yeah I get it Ingrid…” you steal another look outside at your more-often-than-not-stern wife getting grass stains on her comfy shorts for the entertainment of your best friends' kids, suddenly you feel like being really really honest. You turn to Ingrid with a shy smile of your own, “soon.”

Her face lights up, teeth on display unable to disguise her smile. “Yeah?” she asks, before turning to look towards the garden, “Me too.”

You smile to yourself and drop your head onto the dark haired girl's shoulder, you both taking a moment to watch your partners play with the kids. The moment is ruined by your mum mussing up your hair on her way past,

“Come on Love, we need to wrangle these last-minute spaniards, it starts in 10 minutes!”

She had a point to be fair. A very chaotic 8 minutes later you practically push Eli into her seat on the couch after she tries to get another plate full of food for Mario’s wife, “¡Está llena de Eli! ella esta embarazada no tiene hambre!” you cheekily remind her, your wife looking up at you from her place on the floor with tender eyes.

“And you…” you turn your attention towards her as you make your way to your seat, “get up here.” you demand, patting the empty space next to you.

“I’m bueno down here Mi Amor, me and Bruno can watch from down here.” she insists. the 4 year old of Marios nestled on her stomach, her arms wrapped around his sleeping form where he attached himself to her after being forced back inside.

You hesitate for a moment, not watching to make a scene or be too needy in front of all your closest family and friends, but you knew that Ale would need to be within touching distance of you in the next hour. 

You’re about to make your peace with it when Mario glaces your way. You and Mario have worked together for years. Years before you met Ale and the girls.

You’ve battled more than just bears together. Weeks spent isolated in the mountains. And a bond like that means that you can communicate with just a look.

With just that glance he’s up and pulling his toddler into his own burley arms. Bruno remaining in his deep sleep through the change.

“I’ve got el monstruo Ale. Go sit with your wife."

She doesn’t need any more direction, the small interaction is subtle and missed by everyone, except your brother who sends you an exaggerated puppy dog look.

“Fuck off” you throw at him, finger in the air, quickly grabbed by Alexia, “Hey, I thought you wanted me to sit here!” she teases, sending your brother a wink.

“Stop ganging up on me…!” you’re about to protest further before you’re shushed by Mapi, of all people, sitting on the floor between Ingrid's legs who sits on the couch above her. “It's about to start!”

She has a point, a familiar British accent fills the living room, Spanish subtitles appearing on the bottom of the screen for the Spanish contingent. Bear’s voice is as dramatic as ever, long sweeping scenes fill the screen of intense jungle, a crocodile and an action shot of a snake thrown in for good measure.

“Serpiente!” Mapi shouts, pointing at the screen, before Ingrid hushes her and pulls her back against her legs. 

           “We all know by now that humans are masters of the jungle. But the unanswered question remains. Is it the King, or Queen of the Jungle? Find out tonight in Man V Woman.”

The title fills the screen with a dramatic crescendo of music. Your friends and family whooping as though it's the champions league final. Alexia barely contains her excitement next to you. You had been steadfast in your refusal to tell anyone the outcome.

The next shot is a recognisable one, the sound of trees being hacked with a machete accompanies a close up of a muddy puddle set deep in the jungle, until the water is disturbed by a ever-familiar battered boot stomping in the puddle, blaugrana laces pulled tight, as proudly as ever.

This prompts another wild round of jeering from the crowd around you as the camera pans out and reveals your full profile as Alexia places a loving kiss onto your shoulder, “That's my wife!” she shouts, proudly, making you laugh. 

Bear's voice over continues as you pull Alexia's hand into yours, half pulling her on top of you, she gives you a peculiar look, this being more PDA than you would usually allow in front of your English family, but she goes with it, too full of pride to be worried otherwise.

As the voiceover continues, highlights of your career flash across the screen to introduce you to the audience.

Mountains in Peru, Arctic Explorations, Treks across Siberia, all flash across the screen, mixed in with childhood pictures your mum must have supplied painting a picture of your career so far and your expertise in your career.

The music turns more dramatic as you shift uncomfortably, being the only one to realise in the room what's about to happen.

A picture of you smiling with Arjan at the peak of Everest, ice picks raised proudly in the air. You feel Alexia stiffen on your lap, ever so subtly. Stock footage of snow hurling down a mountain as Bear describes the avalanche you got trapped in.

He gives out stats and figures to heighten the drama… “your chance of survival drops 3% every minute you are trapped after the first 15 minutes… being trapped for 2 days… our guest star did the unthinkable…”

The room is bathed in a white light as the screen changes. Camera shaky and audio changing to the shouts and heavy breaths of whoever the body worn camera is strapped too. “Yahām̐, Yahām̐, she is here!”

The camera catches Arjan digging desperately, it's clear now the camera is strapped to a rescuer on the slopes of Everest, the TV production company having access to the footage through a sister company who were filming a documentary about altitude rescue at the time.

It shakes as the man helps dig, grunts of exertion as the spade digs desperately. A flash of colour and your snow suit is revealed, face pressed up against the rock you had found shelter near.

Arjan clears snow from your face desperately and puts his head close to yours, “She’s breathing!” he pulls you up and your hand, satellite phone frozen in place, falls from the side of your ghostly white face as the camera fades out.

The whole segment couldn’t have lasted more than 32 seconds. But it had felt like time had slowed. You could feel from her placement on you that Alexia hadn’t taken a breath. Her eyes remained wide as she stared at the screen.

There was a heaviness in the room around you. 

The voiceover continued, explaining the challenge to the audience but the silence continued. Eli glances at her daughter worriedly, every few seconds.

Just as you thought the tension couldn’t get any more intense… “That's what Alexia looks like when she visits England for Christmas and mum won’t let us put the heating on.” your brother jokes, awkwardly, a crooked smile on his boyish face. 

The room is silent, your mum hiding a smile behind a hand only you notice. He goes to speak again, probably to apologise when-

Alexias' laugh shocks even you, bubbling up from deep within her chest. She closes her eyes, a stray tear escaping at the pressure. Laugh still rumbling deep in her chest, slowly the room joins in, as though they’ve been given permission, and soon your in a choir of laughing spectators, your brother blushing deep red at the attention.

“Thank you” you mouth to him across the room, as you wrap your hands around your wife, whos body still shakes with the odd giggle.

He tips an imaginary hat at you in return.

Because he is an idiot.

The challenge begins, unhelpfully, with you throwing yourself out of a helicopter into the rainforest, “Oh Dios Mio” she mumbles, heard subtly under Mapis, “Cool!”.

You press your lips against her shoulder again and mutter into her skin; “I am here, I am warm, I am Safe.” Like a mantra, you feel her nod and grip your hand tighter.

The thing about being in the environment completely opposite to an avalanche inducing mountain range, was that it was hot. Hot and wet. The camera follows both you and Bear as you struggle through the elements seperatly, deciding when to camp down and preserve energy and when to try to gain more miles.

Bear goes hard, and Mapi looks up at you aghast as you decide to build a shelter and bunker down for seven days straight. The heat zapping any energy you had.

“What are you doing! It's a race!” she exclaims, to which you laugh and zip your mouth closed with your fingers, cocking an eyebrow at her as she eagerly looks back towards the TV like a small child.

You spend two days collecting water and, seemingly, according to Mapi, wasting time cutting palm leaves and collecting bark to make twine. Meanwhile Bear is hacking down trees, making spears out of sticks and rock and throwing himself at seemingly anything that would give him a bit of protein on the move.

You’ve ridden yourself of most of your clothing due to the heat. Smothering yourself in mud from the riverbank you were camped next to, you explain to the camera its sun-cream qualities and how it’s safer than clothing as it also protects you from dehydration. 

All the while you weave and weave and weave your leaves together, quietly, assuredly.

You explain to the camera; “I am a master weaver. My wife likes it when I plait her hair. Alot. She’s cute. Sorry Ale.” you wink at the camera as your wife groans on your lap and  her teammates start to tease her, “Amor! Why!”

“Now. Let's see how this works!”  you grin and pull up a large basket to the camera.

The screen shows you scantily dressed, boots safely on a rock in the background, in the river, moving twigs into position to make a run for the fish to swim directly into your basket.

You explain the contraception, set some bait and say your goodnights to the camera, crossing your fingers for a full basket in the morning.

Cheerful music begins as the camera fades back into your campfire, fish on a stick roasting and cooking heavenly, your muddied but smiling face coming into view.

“Bear can eat his roaches and drink his wee. I’ll be here with my fish buffet!” You joke, under your shelter, camera panning to tens of fish in your basket waiting to be smoked.

The next scene shows Bear explaining the protein benefits and the unusual flavours of a witchetty grub as he struggles against the rainstorm. 

The music begins to ramp up. Graphics on the screen showing both of your progress. Bear has made much more progress than you. But struggling physically. He’s developed a terrible case of trench foot but was still making steady progress with his machete.

You chose to travel up the river. Walking along its bed you are able to make more direct progress, but it’s more energy draining wading through water. You have, however, had a relatively strong diet over the last 3 weeks.

You’re sitting on the river bed, tending to your basket of smoked fish you’re carrying with you for energy when you suddenly remain completely stock still. Dramatic music begins. Your head raises subtly and then out of nowhere.

“Serpentine!”

A snake strikes at you from the shallows, clearly after your basket, or you, or whatever it can get its fangs in. You react quickly, crouching down to your knees, keeping a low centre of gravity to keep your balance as your right hand reaches into the shallows.

You and the snake strike at the same time, and you throw yourself to the side as you bash a jagged rock against its head.

The next scene shows you taking a mouthful of grilled snake; “Tastes like chicken!” you joke at the camera. Before popping a piece of charred snake skin into your mouth.

You feel Alexia shudder in your arms.

"I'm never kissing you again" she lies.

Mapi slowly turns around, mouth agape, gobsmacked look on her face. “Snake!” she whispers, in disbelief. “You beat a snake!” You can’t help but laugh and lean over to turn her head back to the TV.

“Told you you’d find everything out tonta.”

The map on screen shows the last day of the challenge, Bear's voice over explaining distances to the muster points, as well as geographical challenges. The screen swaps quickly between the two of you, running, climbing and swimming to where you both believed the finish line to be.

You were making good progress, as was Bear.

A close up of a Brazilian flag on the edge of a waterfall.

A close up of you throwing yourself into the river.

Bear gripping a cliff edge and heaving himself up. The camera shows the bottom of the flag pole as he pulls himself up. The camera pans up. And the flagpole is bare.

The screen changes to you.

Standing, still relatively scantily clad in your battered boots, your hiking shorts cut down to short-shorts and thin vest muddied and holey, fish blood staining your arms,holding the flag proudly up in one arm.

The room around you erupts. “She did it!” “¡Jefe de la Jungla!!!!” “I always knew!”, “She killed a snake!”. You find yourself at the bottom of a pile of bodies as Alexia's teammates celebrate in the way they know how. Which is apparently to throw themselves at you in a pile up.

“That's my wife!” Alexia chants proudly from within the pile, laughing gleefully, all earlier angst forgotten.

The screen goes blank, and the image shows you and Bear embracing, laughing as the voiceover continues; “... at least this time. It's a Queen of the jungle… or should I say. La Reina de la Jungla.” Bear quips, as Alexia groans, forever hating her nickname, and the screen cuts to black.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It’s hours later, many more plates of food, celebration toasts and questions from Mapi about the snake later. That you're finally in the quiet of your bedroom in your wife's arms.

Your mum and brother are set up in the spare rooms and you have all got plans to meet up with the Alexias family at the game tomorrow before going out for a meal.

Your head is settled on her chest as she plays on her phone above you, struggling to calm down from the evening's events, and as usual, struggling to sleep before a game.  You play with her wedding ring on her spare hand. Feeling the cool metal beneath against her warm skin.

You feel her swipe furiously through her phone, getting more agitated as time passes, grumbles that are not-quite words emitting from her chest.

“Hey. Love.” you sit up and pull her phone away. “What's the matter?”

“Nothing.” she replies, bottom lip out in a pout, pulling her phone back into her hand.

“It’s not nothing. Tell me.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Alexia.” you sigh, “We aren't doing this.. What's got you so…” you look down onto her phone and see. Yourself? It's her tiktok open and you see an edit of the show being played over… “Hot Stuff? Ale. What's this?” you glance at the comments section and see a selection from seemingly anon accounts;  

‘I have never understood Alexia more’, ‘I wonder who calls who capi.’ ,‘Capi, your wife's thighs are bigger than yours’.

“Nothing!” she grabs her phone back from your grip… you arch an eyebrow at her which crumbles her resolve in 3…2…

“Fine! It's all over my TikTok.  The comments about you. The fans have made these edits. Of you! All, wet and… muscley and… nearly undressed.”

“And you…don’t… like me wet, and muscled and… naked? Cause, love, I have evidenced otherwis…”

“Shut up! Of course I do but you're mine!”

Oh. Realisation dawns on you and you can’t help but smile.

“Don’t laugh!” she grumbles. “You’re jealous….” you tease in a sing-song voice. “I am not jealous!” she insists, “It's just… tu eres mio! And these people are all looking at you”.

“I am,” you agree, with a smile. “But, love. Try being married to Alexia Putellas. Maybe you’ll keep your shirt on at games now.” you tease, making her smile and roll her eyes.

Eyes softening as you pull her phone from her grip and plug it in for her. Settling back into her chest, nuzzling against the warm skin you find there.

“I am so proud of you.” she whispers into the now dark room, placing a kiss on your head. The moment became more serious and tender.

“I love you” you reply, softly, the moment feels weighted, and you’re not sure what makes you do it. Maybe it's the adrenaline of the evening, having completed your life's ambition, or maybe it's the wine you drank.

Though, really, you know it's because of the images of your lanky wife curling herself onto the rug in the living room because Bruno had decided she was the world's best pillow again. But you can’t stop yourself.

“Ale. I want to have kids with you.”

Her hand stops its movement in your hair and she rushes over to turn the bedside lamp back on.

“Que?” she breathes out. Hands finding their place softly on your cheeks, a look of urgency in her eyes.

“I want us to have kids. Me and you. I want that with you. Is that something you’re ready for?” you whisper, eyes looking deeply into hers.

“En serio?” she asks, as though she's afraid of the answer.

You nod in response. Moving your hand to wipe away the tears that have appeared on her cheeks.

“Sí, Mi Amor. Quiero eso contigo. Mucho.”

You're both smiling too much to kiss, but you make a good go of it anyway. And as you bury yourself into your wife's arms. Hands roaming and adrenaline of a decision made rushing through your body you can't help but think.

This is the beginning of the biggest adventure of your life. 

[pshbites]

SUPER RICH KIDS ━ psh

pairing : richboy!sunghoon x fem!reader genre : sort of strangers to lovers, mix of angst and fluff but mostly fluff, sort of in an unspoken but aware relationship at the end warnings : mentions of fake friends, drug usage, and backstabbing, not proofread, excessive use of commas lol.. i think that’s it synopsis : the last person you expected to have a connection with was park sunghoon but you were proven wrong wc : 1.1k a/n : first fic of the new year LESSGOO. yes this is heavy inspo off of super rich kids by frank ocean AND this is dedicated to my lizzie bear larb u

if u enjoyed pls like & reblog, feedback is also always appreciated!!

“eating alone are you?” sunghoon spoke, making you look up from your lunchbox. he entered the dark corridor where you sat and looked down at you. “if you’re here to make fun of me then go away” you sighed out, taking a bite of the rice ball you made this morning. “i could, but that’s no fun is it?” he said, sitting down on the other side of the narrow hallway, stretching his legs out so they were right next to you. he crossed his arms and looked down in his lap. 

“surprised you’re sitting down, i figured a rich kid like you wouldn’t want to get his fancy clothes dirty” you scoffed making sunghoon roll his eyes at you. “oh shut it, i couldn’t care less about clothes right now, don’t you have any friends to eat lunch with?” you let out a small laugh, shaking your head. “i could ask you the very same thing” you mumbled back, taking another bite of your rice ball. 

in your four years of attending this academy never has park sunghoon ever willingly talked to you. he acknowledged your existence which was better than what he did to most, but that never meant you were off limits to the constant teasing and remarks from his friend group. that was the norm for you, a non wealthy kid, to be going to a school surrounded by rich kids. always on the outside looking in. 

“isn’t it pathetic, i mean to not have any friends” sunghoon looked at you, tilting his head. you couldn’t tell if he meant that in a sincere way or a taunting way, either way your answer would’ve been the same. “i’d rather not have any friends than have ones who betray me” you said, mouth suddenly feeling bitter that the thought of your ‘friend’ who backstabbed you in the worst way possible. “i agree” sunghoon mumbled, now looking down at the floor. you furrowed your brows, “weren’t you just with them earlier?” making him roll his eyes once more. 

he shook his head, sitting up a little straighter. “you wouldn’t get it” you raised your eyebrow and sat up straighter as well, setting your lunchbox down, crossing your arms and staring back at him. “try me.” he sighed out and threw his head back, “i found out everyone in my life hates me, and my best friend slept with my ex-girlfriend.” you furrowed your brows, still looking at him. he adjusted his head straighter, looking back at you. “i feel like everything is so fake now, that this idea i had of them is just gone.” you nodded, pursing your lips in thought. you hesitated before speaking up. 

“i mean, did you really think they were your real friends?” 

“what.” 

you shrugged and threw your hands up, “your name holds value sunghoon, i’m sure you know that and i’m more than sure they did too.” sunghoon clenched his jaw and rolled his eyes again, clearly annoyed about what you were insinuating. deep down though he knew you were right, it was true. “guess no amount of wealth can get me a friend” he laughed dryly making you frown slightly. just before you could speak up, the bell for lunch rang out. you silently got together your things and stood up, sunghoon did as well. just before sunghoon left, you stopped him. “same time tomorrow?” you said, making him look back at stare at you before he walked off without a word. 

…

you didn’t expect much but sunghoon was there the next day and the day after and the day after. soon enough you had been eating lunch in that same hallway for one whole month. in that time you had gotten to know sunghoon more, causing the both of you to open up and confide in one another. you learned more about sunghoons fake friends and he learned about your friend, it was weird how one common thread could bring you two so close. 

“all they do is get high off their face, i don’t think im missing out much” sunghoon said, speaking of his friend groups infamous parties making you laugh. “and drinking ancient liquor” you added making sunghoon laugh along with you. the two of you sat next to one another, sharing whatever lunch you had packed for yourself that day. you quickly realized that sunghoon hadn’t ever had home cooked lunches, it was always dinner at a fancy restaurant or some world renowned private chef making luxury meals. it was odd, despite your differences you hadn’t expected sunghoon to grow so close to you. 

it fell silent between the two of you as you silently ate your food. sunghoon finally broke the silence with an interesting statement. “im finally gonna confront them, about it all” he turned to you, you giving him a shocked expression. “really?” he nodded, taking a sip of the water bottle you brought for him. “i have evidence and proof of everything so im gonna confront them tonight and i think it’ll all end.. my friendship between them” the two of you held eye contact in silence over sunghoons words, a part of you was proud of him the other part felt sorry for him. 

he looked ahead at the wall across from you two, setting down the sandwich you made. “it’s weird how i went from having it all to nothing. like no one even cares anymore” he sighed out, making you frown softly. you hesitated before reaching for his hand and intertwining your fingers. “you have me, i care for you” you breathed out, making sunghoon look in your eyes. you both felt that. 

that weird feeling where everything clicks, where you feel.. okay after not feeling okay for months. that feeling where nothing else matters except the person sitting right beside you. that feeling when you tell this person more things that you don’t even tell your family. that feeling of pure infatuation and almost love. maybe you loved sunghoon or maybe you just strongly liked him. whatever it was it was real and you both could feel it but you could feel it even more in this moment. 

“i care for you too,” he said, still lost in your eyes. maybe that was your way of saying you liked each other but it didn’t matter because the message was across, he didn’t jerk his hand away from yours when you reached for it but instead he scooched closer to you, letting you rest your head on his shoulder as the two of you stared at the wall across from you. 

teenage love wasn’t something you desired but maybe, unknowingly, you found it when you least expected it. 

taglist : @cupidhoons @leeechin @chobunz @wensurr @ja4hyvn @kozumesphone @17ericas @suneng @hyunnies-world @kiss4noo @jellyluv4eva @heelariously @laylasbunbunny @silquids @squiishymeow @heeambi @yourmomssneakylink @rriribelle @srehyaps @bubblytaetae @t1iqaa @en-heedeungie @wintertxt @sweettaitea @beatrizmel-472 @i03jae @jakef3ver @mamuljji @coqhee @luvyou2ooo @thedemonriot @justalittle-hee @jjongsaengzz @beigerin @mariahxrrera @cherrybeomm @vveebee @mitmit01 @blockbusterhee @yeehawnana @mochamvgz @livelaughluvryanreynolds @ami-soph @sunghoonsperfume (bold cannot be tagged)

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© all rights to pshbites 2024. please do not copy, translate or repost my works

[aesthetically-dying101]

Wifed up

A/N: im trying this type of thing out, but what happens if the JJk men saw you without your wedding ring? (tbf, im sure this has been done by others before, i sure as hell aren't the first to write this, won't be the last.)im genuinely so scared of posting this lmfao, okay but anyways

Characters: Nanami, Gojo, Geto, Toji, Sukuna, Shiu. (in said order)

Nanami:

Nanami almost got whiplash when he noticed the ring—your wedding ring, for heaven’s sake—wasn’t on your finger.

But when he stepped through the door of your shared home, grocery bags in one hand, jacket slung over his arm, and caught sight of your bare hand…well, he nearly dropped the tomatoes.

It wasn’t like him to jump to conclusions—he prided himself on logic, on maturity. But standing in the doorway of your shared home, the scent of vanilla and butter wafting through the air, his heart skipped a beat for all the wrong reasons. He could see you through the archway leading into the kitchen, flour dusting your forearms, a faint smear of chocolate on your cheek.

You looked radiant, as always. But the empty space on your left hand? That detail stood out sharper than a curse in a crowd.

Nanami’s mind, traitorous for the first time in years, whispered an awful thought: Was she hiding it? Why? What if she’s inviting someone else over while I’m at work?

He hated the thought. Hated that it even crossed his mind. But he was only human—humans with hearts could be irrational, especially when they cared so deeply.

The seconds stretched, but his mind was already racing. His rational side kicked in almost immediately, reminding him that you were probably just taking it off while baking—something harmless, right? You’ve always done that. It’s just a ring.

But... It had been a conversation in the office that kept nagging at him all week. His coworker—someone he’d known for years—had just found out that his wife of ten years had been cheating on him. The betrayal had rocked him to his core, and for the last few days, Nanami had been wondering how something like that could happen. His mind lingered on the idea that a partner could hide something so big, and the doubt, for just a second, crawled into his own relationship. What if you were hiding it too?

He shook his head. Get a grip, Kento. Still, he couldn’t quite quell the question lingering at the edge of his thoughts.

“Y/N,” he called softly, stepping closer.

You turned, a bright smile lighting up your face.

“You’re home early!” you exclaimed, wiping your hands on your apron.

“I am,” he replied, voice steady, though his sharp eyes didn’t miss the bare ring finger you so casually flaunted. “Where’s your ring?”

Your eyes widened in realization.

“Oh, that!” You laughed, waving a hand dismissively. “I took it off while baking. Didn’t want to get dough all over it. It’s right over there.”

You pointed to the windowsill by the sink, where sure enough, both your engagement and wedding rings sat neatly side by side.

Relief flooded him so fast it almost made him dizzy. He nodded, keeping his tone light. “I see. I suppose I should’ve known you wouldn’t be that careless with it.”

“Careless?” You scoffed, playfully offended. “I’m meticulous, thank you very much.”

He smiled faintly, his heart settling back into its usual rhythm. You stepped closer, your grin turning mischievous. Before he could react, your flour-dusted hand slapped his backside with an audible smack.

Nanami froze, incredulous, as you dissolved into laughter.

“There,” you declared between giggles. “I marked my territory. Now wash your hands and help me.”

Nanami followed you after shrugging off his jacket and loosening his tie. He slipped off his own wedding ring and set it carefully beside yours on the counter before rolling up his sleeves. For the next hour, the two of you moved seamlessly, kneading dough and rolling croissants together. The air filled with the warmth of the oven and the soft melody of your laughter.

By the time the pastries were golden and flaky, Nanami leaned against the counter, his hand resting on your lower back. The soft touch quickly turned into something more as his lips brushed your temple, then your cheek. You turned to meet him halfway, mouths molding together in a kiss that deepened quickly, his hands firm against your waist.

Nanami’s lips were warm and urgent against yours, every brush of his mouth sending a shiver down your spine. His hands, once gently resting on your waist, now gripped you tighter, pulling you flush against him as your body aligned in all the right ways.

You could feel the heat building between you, your chest pressed against his as your hands worked on the button of his shirt with determination, your fingers fumbling only slightly as you pushed him further against the counter. He groaned against your lips when you tugged at his tie, undoing it with quick, practiced movements.

“Someone’s eager,” he teased, his voice low and rough, but the words disappeared as your lips traced the edge of his jaw-his perfect jaw, your teeth grazing the sensitive skin of his neck.

“I’ve been waiting all day,” you murmured, hands sliding down to the waistband of his pants. His breath hitched when you unbuckled his belt and slid your hand inside, brushing against him with the kind of intention that made him gasp, his body instinctively bucking into your touch.

You grinned against his skin, the heat of the moment clouding your mind. This wasn’t just about passion—it was about claiming him, showing him with every touch that he was the only one. You slid your hand lower, your fingers grazing him with a teasing pressure that made his breath quicken.

“You’re the only man I need, Nanami Kento,” you whispered, meeting his eyes as you pulled him closer, grinding your hips against his. The friction had your pulse racing, a primal need building in the pit of your stomach.

His hands gripped your hips, pulling you even tighter against him as he kissed you again, this time with a desperation that matched yours. His lips were insistent, almost possessive, as his hands slipped under your shirt, his thumbs brushing against your skin in a way that made you shiver.

The air was thick with heat, your body aching with want, when suddenly—

DING!

The oven timer went off.

You both froze.

The croissants.

“Oh no—!”

You shoved away from him with a frustrated gasp, already heading toward the kitchen, but not before you shot him a glance. “You’re so distracting!”

Nanami watched you, his chest rising and falling as he tried to steady his breath. His eyes darkened with amusement, and he chuckled, running a hand through his hair.

"We'll finish this later, don't worry."

Gojo

Gojo’s feet dragged heavily as he entered the apartment, the door clicking shut behind him with a soft, final sound. The weight of the mission still hung over him—bones aching, mind buzzing with residual adrenaline.

He didn’t want to think about the cursed spirits he'd just fought or the cursed techniques he'd barely been able to avoid using in full force. All he wanted now, all he craved, was the soft familiarity of home.

And you.

His wife.

There you were—curled up on the couch, your form relaxed and peaceful, your face lit by the flickering light of the TV screen. It looked like you'd fallen asleep while watching something, your body sinking into the cushions, soft and beautiful.

But then—

His eyes narrowed.

His eyes immediately fell to your left hand.

Empty.

No wedding ring. No engagement band.

His heart skipped a beat. For a moment, the rest of the world disappeared. The weight of exhaustion, the tightness in his chest, everything—it all vanished in the face of that empty ring finger. His mind instantly went blank, and then... panic.

Where the hell is it?

A thousand questions shot through his head at once, each one more suffocating than the last. His mouth went dry, and he stepped closer to you, his mind reeling. It didn’t make sense. You’d always worn your rings, no matter what.

During the mission he hadn't used his Six Eyes and scan everything in the house, to check on you, but.... He’d been distracted. Too focused on that cursed mission, on the job, on things he shouldn’t have let slip.

His eyes flicked back to your hand, that empty space where your ring should have been. His mind spiraled further into dark thoughts.

She... She took it off? But why?

His heart thudded painfully in his chest. Was this it? Had it finally happened? Was this the moment when everything changed? When you... left him?

He couldn't breathe. He couldn’t think.

Did she meet someone else?

His pulse quickened at the thought. He wanted to scream, to shout, but the silence around him felt suffocating. Every step closer to the couch felt like a thousand pounds pulling him down. He stopped in front of you, staring at your unconscious form, the way you seemed so... peaceful, like everything was fine.

But it wasn’t.

What the hell is going on?

It was almost like a switch had flipped inside him—like something deep within him, something raw and protective, had been triggered. His anger, his fear—it boiled over. It had to be something. She wasn’t just going to forget her rings.

His voice was low, rough, as he bent down close to you, his tone colder than he meant it to be.

"Hey," he said, almost a hiss. "What the fuck is going on?"

His heart clenched at the coldness of his own words, but his fear was all-consuming. He needed answers. Now.

You stirred, your eyelids fluttering open at the sound of his voice, but it was the confusion in your gaze that stopped him for a second. For just a moment, it was like the anger and fear drained out of him, replaced with a spike of guilt. This wasn’t the way to approach you. He wasn’t supposed to be... scaring you. But he couldn’t help it.

What if I’m losing her?

You blinked up at him, your vision still blurry from sleep, but the panic in his eyes didn’t go unnoticed.

"Satoru...?" Your voice was soft, laced with that sweet, familiar confusion he loved. The panic in his eyes, the intensity in the way he stared down at you—it wasn’t the Gojo you were used to. He looked almost... unhinged.

Your heart thudded in your chest as you pushed yourself up slowly, feeling the exhaustion still clinging to your body. There was a fleeting second of fear that rose in you—this wasn’t how he usually acted.

What’s going on?

The man who had always been the first to laugh in the face of danger, the man who could break down any barrier with a joke or a smile, was now standing there—almost trembling. This was no playful teasing. No, there was something else in the way his body stiffened, the way his voice cracked with uncertainty.

His voice was a harsh, cold rasp as he bent down closer, demanding answers he wasn’t sure he wanted.

“What the fuck is going on?” He tried to keep his voice from trembling, "Where’s your ring?"

"Huh? What are you talking about?" Your hand instinctively went to your finger, but it was bare. You frowned. "Oh..." The fog of sleep was lifting now, and the look on his face was making your heart race.

But before you could even say anything else, Gojo’s eyes narrowed, and he straightened up, suddenly tense.

"I’m not playing games, [Y/N]." He could feel the anger bubbling up again, his breath coming faster. "What the hell is going on? You’ve been in this house, and now you’re not wearing it? Are you seriously gonna tell me it’s some accident?" He gestured wildly, his frustration impossible to hide.

You recoiled slightly, caught off guard by his tone. The fear in his voice, the desperation that edged every word, it hit you hard. He was scared.

But you could feel it, too. You could feel the rage he was hiding beneath his frustration, the doubt gnawing at him, the belief that something was wrong—that he wasn’t good enough to keep you.

The thought almost made you ache. You couldn’t believe he’d think that. Gojo Satoru, the strongest sorcerer, so terrified that his wife had... what? Cheated on him?

"Gojo," you whispered, your voice trembling. "I didn’t—I didn’t take it off for any reason like that." You looked at him, trying to calm his rapid breath. "I was cleaning the bathroom earlier... with bleach. I didn’t want to risk damaging the rings, so I took them off and put them in a little dish in there while I worked. I... I must’ve forgotten to put them back on after I collapsed on the couch."

The explanation was so simple, so mundane, that Gojo felt an overwhelming rush of relief flood through him. He closed his eyes and sank back onto the couch, rubbing his face with both hands.

You were just tired.

You hadn’t been out with someone else. You hadn’t thrown away everything they’d built together.

His mind had created a monster out of nothing. He had jumped to conclusions because he was weak, scared of losing the only person who mattered. He wasn’t used to this kind of vulnerability, and yet, here he was, completely unraveling over the thought of you slipping away from him.

"God," he muttered, voice breaking slightly. "I thought you... I thought I wasn’t enough for you. That maybe you'd—"

"Stop," you cut him off, pulling him close with a soft tug on his shirt. You pressed your forehead to his chest, feeling the tension in his shoulders. "Don’t even think that, Satoru." You wrapped your arms around him, grounding him. "You’re my everything. I wouldn’t throw that away."

Gojo’s arms tightened around you, his face buried in your hair as he exhaled a shaky breath. For a moment, neither of you said anything. Just the sound of your breathing and the rhythmic beat of your hearts.

When he finally pulled back, he cupped your face gently, his blue eyes searching yours with a mix of relief and affection. A small smile tugged at his lips.

"Next time," he said softly, almost shyly, "just leave a note. Like, ‘I’m cleaning and definitely not inviting other men over,’ so I don’t go insane."

You rolled your eyes playfully, but you couldn’t help but laugh. "Yeah, I’ll do that."

Gojo pulled you back into his arms, this time much softer, as if the whole world could melt away in this moment. He could feel his heart finally steadying. You were here, you were safe. The rest of it didn’t matter.

He kissed the top of your head, whispering softly, "Just promise me one thing, okay?"

You looked up at him.

"Never scare me like that again."

You smiled, a soft, sleepy smile, and nodded.

"I promise."

Geto:

The last thing on your mind was the delicate gold band around your finger, the symbol of your marriage to Geto, which you had carefully removed so as not to get it covered in dirt.

Geto paced through the entrance, his brow furrowed with a mixture of frustration and curiosity. After being away on business for a few days, the first thing he was told upon his return was that something had happened with you—his wife—and that you weren’t wearing your wedding rings.

Before he could utter a word, one of his cult followers had nervously approached him, eyes wide with anxiety.

"Master Geto... We... we noticed the absence of her rings. The lady—"

"Where is she?" he snapped, his voice low, yet carrying an unsettling edge.

His follower hesitated for just a second before pointing toward the garden. "She's there, with your daughters."

Geto’s heart skipped a beat. He clenched his fists, a flood of emotions threatening to overtake him. Did you really... no, he refused to believe it. You couldn't be removing your rings over something so trivial.

He strode quickly, irritation bubbling beneath his calm exterior. As he reached the garden, the sight before him stopped him in his tracks.

There you were, kneeling on the soft earth, laughing as his daughters ran circles around you, their giggles filling the air. You were covered in dirt from working in the garden all day.

You glanced up and saw him standing there, eyes dark with unspoken words. He was staring at you with a strange intensity.

“Suguru,” you said, wiping dirt from your cheek, and then you noticed the look in his eyes. His pupils were dilated, hands gripping the edge of the stone wall with white-knuckled intensity. “What’s the matter?”

His gaze dropped to your bare fingers before snapping back to your face.

"Why are you not wearing your rings?" he asked, his tone colder than usual.

You blinked. The question caught you off guard, and a wave of amusement flooded over you.

“What?” you asked, incredulity mixed with humor. "I just didn’t want to get them dirty. I’ve been in the garden all day with the girls.”

His eyes narrowed in disbelief. "You think I care about that?" His voice rose a little, frustration bubbling to the surface. "You don't understand... how much it means to me—"

You stood up slowly, brushing your hands off and laughing softly. “Suguru, calm down. You’re acting like I’ve sold the rings for magic potions or something,” you teased, holding them out to him with a playful grin.

The sudden tension in the air seemed to break with your words. He stared at the rings, then back at you, his expression wavering between annoyance and relief. He wasn’t sure whether to be mad or laugh at himself for overreacting.

But when you walked toward him, digging in your pocket, then placing the rings back on his hand with an amused smirk, he couldn’t help but release a breath he didn’t know he was holding. His arms pulled you into a tight embrace, his chin resting against the top of your head.

"I was worried, okay?" he muttered. "I've done so much for you, and I... I couldn’t figure out what was going on."

You snorted, wrapping your arms around him. "You’re a disaster sometimes, you know that?"

"I’m just... protective," he mumbled, his voice now laced with a touch of vulnerability.

"You’re sweet," you said, smiling up at him, "but a little too protective for your own good sometimes."

He rolled his eyes but couldn’t stop the small, tender smile from forming on his lips.

“I can’t help it when it comes to you... And these,” he added, tapping the rings, “are more important than you realize.”

You chuckled softly, your fingers tracing the edges of his rings.

"I know, Suguru. But I’m not going anywhere. I just didn’t want to ruin them in the dirt. I still love you just as much."

His hands gently cupped your face as he gazed down at you. “I know. But if you ever take them off again, make sure I’m there when you do."

You raised an eyebrow. “You want to be the one to take them off for me?” you teased.

A smile tugged at his lips. “Maybe I’ll start taking them off myself, then.”

You laughed, reaching up to kiss him lightly on the lips. His arms tightened around you, the world outside of the garden fading into the background.

Your laugh echoed in the air, soft and sweet, as the tension between you melted into a comfortable warmth. Suguru leaned his forehead against yours, his breath a little ragged from the release of his worries.

"You're impossible, you know that?" you whispered, pressing your lips against his.

"Only when it comes to you," he replied softly, his smile genuine and fond. "But I love you anyway."

Toji:

It was a late afternoon when Toji returned home, exhausted but relieved to be done with another job. He stepped into the quiet apartment, the faint smell of Megumi’s favorite snacks still lingering in the air. It had been a good day for the boy, he’d told Toji earlier that he’d had fun at the park with you.

Toji was just about to toss his jacket aside and relax when something on the bathroom counter caught his eye. His wedding ring. But... not hers. Her band was sitting alone next to the sink, glinting in the dim light, empty.

His heart skipped a beat.

His stomach twisted. He couldn’t breathe for a second.

He picked up her ring, turning it over in his hands as if some answer would magically appear. But nothing came. The silence in the bathroom was suffocating, and his chest began to tighten as his mind spiraled into chaos.

She wouldn't... But the thought was there, like a seed growing inside him.

Shit. Not again.

It had happened once before—his ex, the woman who had broken his trust in ways that still haunted him. That memory burned his skin like acid as the anger surged through him. He could feel the old rage coming back, the bitterness of betrayal cutting deeper than ever before.

He paced in a circle, trying to make sense of it. His mind raced—had she really gone that far? Were they just another statistic, another couple destroyed by his own mistrust? He couldn’t imagine it. Not with her.

But there it was: the absence of her ring. What else was he supposed to think?

His hands trembled as he grabbed his phone, fists clenching around it as he typed out a text to Shiu: She’s gone. I fucking knew it. Packing. She’s been seeing someone else.

The words were harsh, but they felt right in the moment. The ring was gone, the reminder of what they had was now nothing but a cruel joke. He stormed into the bedroom, ripping open the closet doors. His mind was working too fast to think straight—he started shoving clothes into a bag, his chest tight. He should have never trusted her. Never allowed himself to be vulnerable.

He allowed her to become a stepmother to Megumi, let her get close to his son. And now, this. How could I be so stupid? he thought bitterly.

Toji’s blood boiled, and his mind spiraled further into the pit of grief and disbelief. He’d let his guard down, let her become a part of his life, a part of his family, and now this? He slammed a fist against the wall, shaking with fury.

An hour passed. He didn’t care. The world outside continued as usual, but in here, in his heart, everything was falling apart. He couldn’t do this again. He wasn’t going to let someone else ruin him.

Then, the sound of the door clicking open interrupted his spiral.

He turned, eyes wild, ready to unleash all of his pent-up rage.

And then he saw you. Megumi was holding your hand, looking at him confused, but his gaze didn’t linger long on the kid.

“Is everything okay?” she asked cautiously, eyeing the half-packed bag by the door.

"Where the hell is your ring?" Toji's voice was low, laced with the venom he was trying to suppress. He crossed his arms over his chest, staring her down. "Where's your fucking wedding ring?"

She blinked at him. "What?"

Toji's glare didn’t soften, and he lifted her ring from the counter, letting it dangle between his fingers. "I thought we were past this bullshit. Thought you’d at least have the decency to—"

She deadpanned, and without a word, raised her hand to his face. His eyes followed her hand, expecting some gesture of defiance, some excuse. But then he froze, seeing the bandaged pinky and ring finger on her hand, the fabric wrapped tightly in place.

Her gaze was flat, her voice devoid of humor as she stated, “I didn’t want to lose my damn finger. It’s swollen, and I couldn’t take the risk of it getting worse. I thought you’d be worried about that.”

Toji stared at her hand, feeling the rage that had consumed him moments before start to fade, replaced by a dull ache in his chest.

“You—” He couldn’t even form a coherent sentence. He dropped her ring back onto the counter, as if the weight of it suddenly felt too much.

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath, his head lowering, suddenly feeling like a fool. His fists unclenched, and he rubbed the back of his neck. He couldn’t even look you in the eyes right now, but his voice cracked with regret. “I thought... I thought you were—”

"Cheating on you?" You finished the sentence for him with a quiet, amused tone, raising an eyebrow. You slowly walked over to him, your expression softening.

“Yeah,” he said, unable to hide the embarrassment in his voice. “I fucked up, huh?”

You chuckled, shaking your head.

“Toji... really? You thought I was gonna leave?” You scoffed and rolled your eyes, “I’ll make you dinner, okay? Just... next time, try asking before packing your bags.”

He let out a defeated sigh, finally lifting his eyes to meet yours. “Yeah, yeah. I overreacted. I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

You kissed him... which quickly turned into more, until:

"Ew."

You broke the kiss, laughing lightly.

Sukuna:

It was an ordinary day at the palace—at least, that’s what it seemed like. The sun streamed through the large paper windows, casting a soft light on the traditional tatami mats, where you were seated, diligently working on your calligraphy with Uraume. The brush glided over the paper as the delicate strokes formed beautiful characters, ink staining the tips of your fingers as you focused.

Your wedding ring, that simple yet precious band that bound you to the King of Curses, was nowhere to be seen. It was placed on the nearby wooden table to avoid smudging ink on its gleaming surface.

Sukuna’s voice broke the silence.

"Where is it?"

The low, thunderous tone could only mean one thing: Sukuna was furious. His eyes—four of them—narrowed as they scanned you, focusing on your left hand where the ring should’ve been. His breath quickened as the pressure in the room thickened.

Uraume, sensing the tension, stepped back slowly, not daring to make a sound. You, however, remained seated, doing your best to hide the small smile tugging at your lips. You couldn’t help it—Sukuna? Jealous? Oh, this was going to be entertaining.

"What are you talking about?" you asked innocently, not lifting your gaze from the ink-stained paper.

"The ring, woman," Sukuna growled. "You know exactly what I mean. Where is it?" His voice shook with a barely contained fury as he approached.

You could almost feel the heat radiating off of him. The air around him crackled with murderous intent, but it was impossible to ignore the mix of frustration and… confusion? Ah, he didn’t know what to think, and that only made it funnier.

"I left it off for now," you replied casually, trying to mask your amusement. "I didn’t want to get ink on it while I was working with Uraume."

"Don’t lie," Sukuna hissed, his four arms crossing tightly in front of him. "You’re telling me you, a lowly human, can’t even remember where you left your precious wedding ring?" His voice was cutting, sharp as a blade.

You almost snorted, but you swallowed the laugh just in time. Oh, Sukuna really was something else when he was jealous. The sheer audacity of him to think you’d even remotely be unfaithful was beyond hilarious.

You stood up slowly, turning to face him as he loomed over you like an ominous cloud. His eyes were wild, like he was ready to destroy everything in his path.

"Is that why you’re so upset?" you teased, the corners of your mouth curling up. "You really think I would take off my ring to… go play around with someone else?"

Sukuna’s gaze flickered. His four arms twitched as if to lash out at you, but he held himself back. The tension in the air was suffocating.

"Don’t play with me," he growled, his voice dripping with venom. "What kind of fool do you think I am?"

You couldn’t help yourself anymore. The laughter bubbled up inside you, and you laughed, covering your mouth as you did so. Sukuna stared at you, his eyes burning with confusion and fury. He looked like a king who’d just been betrayed, but somehow even more terrifying in that moment.

"Oh, come on," you teased further, walking up to him and standing on tiptoe to whisper in his ear. "You didn’t seem to think I was a ‘lowly human’ a couple of days ago when you were pounding into me like a savage."

Sukuna’s eyes widened in surprise, and his face turned a shade darker, his body stiffening with rage.

"Don’t you dare," he spat, his four arms reaching out and grabbing you by the waist with a force that would make most humans break. But you? You weren’t just any human. You were his human.

"And now you’re talking about it?" he demanded, his voice dangerously low. "You’re trying to make me look like a fool, huh?"

Despite his anger, you couldn’t suppress your grin.

"You’re the one who’s acting like a fool, Sukuna. Jealousy doesn’t suit you."

His eyes narrowed further, but he didn’t admit he was wrong. No, he wouldn’t do that. Instead, with one swift motion, he picked you up, his grip unyielding. His four arms surrounded you, holding you close.

"You’re lucky I don’t kill every single person in this palace for daring to let you out of my sight without that damn ring on your finger," he muttered through gritted teeth.

You couldn’t help but chuckle softly. The fact that Sukuna—the Sukuna—was losing his temper over something as trivial as a ring was almost too ridiculous. Almost.

"All this over a ring?" you asked, raising an eyebrow, still smiling. "Really, Sukuna? You almost killed everyone because I took off my ring for a couple of hours?"

He didn’t respond, but his grip tightened around you, lifting you effortlessly and carrying you toward your shared quarters. As he walked, you wrapped your arms around his neck, not able to stop the teasing smile on your face.

"You’re kind of cute when you're jealous, you know that?" you teased, nuzzling his neck lightly.

Sukuna’s eyes flickered to you, the hint of a growl rumbling in his chest, but he didn’t say anything. The king of curses was undeniably a jealous man, even if he refused to admit it.

And when he finally laid you down on the futon in your quarters, his hands were soft—almost gentle—as he placed a hand on your cheek, his expression still dark but… not as angry as before.

"I’m not going to let you out of my sight again," he murmured, eyes burning with possessiveness. "You’re mine."

You smiled, reaching up to touch his face. "I’m yours," you whispered back.

And just like that, all the tension in the air seemed to melt away, leaving only the comfort of being together.

Shiu:

Shiu Kong was not a man prone to sentimental gestures or overt displays of affection. His love was quiet, steady, and often hidden beneath his sharp tongue and stern demeanor. But he was observant—painfully so. It was this keen eye for detail that had always served him well in his work. Today, however, it left him grappling with a tight knot of unease that coiled around his chest like a curse.

You hadn’t been wearing your wedding ring.

Shiu noticed it that morning when he passed you in the kitchen. You were distracted, bustling around with your usual energy, and when you handed him his coffee, his sharp eyes caught the faint, bare line on your finger.

No glint of the ring he’d placed there.

It wasn’t like you to forget something like that. Shiu wasn’t the type to jump to conclusions, but the thought nagged at him throughout the day. The image of your bare hand replayed in his mind as he handled the paperwork on his desk, and when the hours dragged on, so did his thoughts.

Were you upset about something? Did the ring bother you? Or—no, that was ridiculous—was it deliberate?

His workday felt endless. By the time he stepped into the apartment, his shoulders were tight with tension. Shiu kicked off his shoes and loosened his tie, his heart heavier than he cared to admit.

“Hey,” you called from the kitchen, bright and cheerful. “You’re home! Dinner’s almost ready.”

He stepped into the room, leaning casually against the doorframe. But you knew him too well to miss the way his brow furrowed or the faint stiffness in his posture.

“You okay?” you asked, tilting your head.

Shiu’s lips pressed into a thin line. He never shied away from confrontation, but this… he wasn’t sure how to phrase it. Still, he was Shiu Kong, and hesitation wasn’t in his nature.

“You weren’t wearing your ring this morning,” he said bluntly, his voice even but laced with an edge of something vulnerable.

You blinked, startled, before looking down at your hand as if just realizing the absence yourself. “Oh!” You quickly held up both hands, palms open. “It’s not what you think. I took them to the jeweler to get cleaned today. I didn’t want to forget and leave them on, so I took them off last night.”

His gaze softened, the tension in his shoulders easing as he exhaled a slow, almost imperceptible breath. “That’s it?”

“Of course that’s it!” you said, laughing. “What, did you think I was mad at you or something?”

Shiu clicked his tongue, his usual deadpan expression returning, though the faintest flicker of relief danced in his eyes. “Tch. You could’ve mentioned it. I’m not a mind reader, you know.”

You stepped closer, reaching for his hand and squeezing it with a warm smile. “Sorry, I didn’t think it’d be such a big deal. I’ll make it up to you. Promise.”

You winked and he grumbled something under his breath, but his fingers curled around yours, holding on just a little tighter than usual.

Later that night, when you slipped the ring back onto your finger and flashed it proudly at him, Shiu allowed himself the barest smirk. He didn’t say anything, of course, but the way his hand lingered on your back when he walked past spoke volumes.

Maybe he wasn’t the romantic type, but damn if he didn’t love seeing that ring on your finger.

A/N: oki so this was an attempt, i dunno if this is any good but hey, you live you learn

Masterlist

:)

[cyberlsk]

good for you

leon s. kennedy/fem!reader smut (minors DNI) warnings: degradation (mean old leon who loves you but also loves being mean), daddy kink, a lot of teasing synopsis: You try to prove to Leon that you’re not just a submissive little bitch. He proves you wrong.

photo from pinterest

You remember exactly how this all started–Leon, all sweet smiles and calloused hands, thrusting into you with a hunger that left you breathless. And in that moment, it felt like there was nothing else but him. So deep, so warm and full that you could hardly breathe.

“What’s wrong, baby?” he taunts, his voice lilting with false concern. “I thought this is what you wanted.” His lips curl into a wicked grin as your nails rake down his back, sure to leave trails on his skin for days. “Perfect little pussy begging me to take care of her, yeah?” Your legs lock around his neck like a vice, pulling him so impossibly close that he could  ravage every single part of you. 

If he noticed the marks you were leaving, he didn’t show it. If anything, he was too busy raking his eyes over you, you unraveling beneath him, you digging into his shoulders to ground yourself, you trying to hold back every pathetic little whimper. “That’s all you’re good for, isn’t it?” he murmured, punctuating his words with a nip on your neck. “Taking me like a good little bitch.”

“No, daddy,” you bit out, your voice shaky but defiant. “ ‘M not.”

You’d tried to flip him over then, albeit weakly, and he’d humored you. “Go on, baby,” he’d said, letting you bounce on his cock until your thighs gave out and the searing look in his eyes made your resolve crumble, made you want to let daddy win, let him use you however he wanted.

But not tonight.

Tonight, you were going to make him beg.

You crawl onto his lap, wearing a skimpy set in contrast to his full work attire. He doesn't move at first, just watches you with that lazy, knowing grin that makes your stomach do flips.

“Yeah?” he says, toying with the hem of your panties. “You sure you don’t want daddy to take over, fuck your little princess parts until you’re stuffed with cum?” His hands trace up your sides, slow and deliberate, before settling on your chest, rubbing light circles into your chest.

You shake your head vehemently. “No, daddy,” you respond, with as much composure as you can foster in your current position. “ ‘M not a princess. I can handle myself, don’t need you to lead.”

For a moment, you think you see a flicker of surprise in his eyes, but it's gone as soon as it comes. "That so?" he says, tone mocking. Before he can continue, you grind down on his cock, so hard that you can feel the stiff fabric of his slacks drag against your clit. And he groans, tongue wetting his lower lip as his eyes rake your body, chest heaving already as he looks at you in awe. You decide to roll your hips again, overwhelmed by the sensation of him — gorgeous, masculine, cologne earthy, and a faint sheen of sweat covering his skin. Leon, Leon, Leon, was all you could think as you dragged your pussy along his bulge. Oh, Leon.

He groans, low and broken and needy, grabs at the flesh on your hips as you rut against him. “That’s if. That’s my good girl. My good — fucking — girl. Isn’t that right?” His tongue darts out to wet his lips, and you grit your teeth, trying your damn hardest to not give into the submissive headspace that threatened to take over you. No, today, you were going to put him in his place. Today, you weren’t daddy’s girl.

“Nope,” you retort in a clipped voice. “I’m gonna fuck you tonight, daddy. And you're gonna beg me to let you cum.” You meet his heated gaze with a roll of your hips so slow and strong that he gasps, sharp and choked, and heat pools down in your stomach. “Yeah, you like that?” you say, fighting back the neediness that claws up your stomach and continuing to grind on him, the friction almost painful. His hair has fallen in his eyes, his head lolled back against this couch as he damn near whimpers at the feeling of your hot, went cunt dragging against his bulge. You involuntarily freeze at the sound. God, he was so gorgeous just like this. And he was all yours. 

Something about that makes your head spin. Maybe it’s the rush of possession, maybe it’s just how good he feels against you, how strong his arms are as they wrap around your waist, maybe it’s the rough callouses on his hands tracing tantalizing shapes up your back,  squeezing lightly on the back of your neck—the way they would when he wanted you to arch your back so he could feel your tits rubbing against his chest as he fucked you. God, he was practically devouring you.

You squeal as he adjusts his legs, sitting wider so you can grind on him with more vigor. He grins lazily at your near pathetic display of need. 

“Can’t take a little grinding? You haven’t even fucked me yet,” he taunts, lower lip curled between his teeth. He bucks his hips up for further emphatics, drawing a full whine out of you. 

At this point, you’re struggling to keep your eyes open, clawing at any and every inch of exposed skin you can on his body. You fumble with the front buttons of his suit and give up on the collared shirt, shoving your hands inside the small gap to claw  from his stomach to his chest. “Baby…”

“Baby,” he mocks in the same needy tone. “What’s wrong?

Cmon, use your big girl words. Think, baby. Or has my cock already made you stupid?”

You huff,  freeing his dick from his pants in one unceremonious motion and sinking down on it. If there was one thing for sure, it was that Leon’s dick was the best thing you had ever felt. You just felt so full, his balls nudging against your clit, his tip pressing into that one spot that made your knees weak and your head spin with need. But you couldn’t give into that. No, you needed to prove him wrong.

“Sit back,” you demand. Leon chuckles.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Slowly, you begin to hump up and down on his length, relishing in the stretch that he provided to your poor, achy hole. You reached between your legs before you sunk down again, collecting the mix of your arousals onto your fingers. The second your hand met your clit, he knew he was done for.

“Ah—shit! Ah, baby, so tight,” he moaned. “So fucking tight, baby. I could fuck you forever. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

His words shoot molten gold down to your clit, now throbbing against your hands as you ride him. Fuck, he feels unreal, his tip nudging that spot that makes you claw at his shoulders in a decidedly non-dominant way. You can feel him twitch inside you whenever you sink down, down, and you relish in his shaky exhales–fuck, just like that, he says under his breath. “Fuck, baby.” You drag your thighs up, so slow that it makes your muscles ache but quickly overridden by the feeling of every inch of him sliding past your walls. You almost feel the swell of his cock leave you before he slams you back down, hips snapping up to meet yours in long, hard thrusts. 

“Nope. No fucking way,” he grits out, brows furrowed with exertion. You know you should just accept defeat. The stretch sends overwhelming sparks up your tummy with each thrust. He fucks you like he’ll die if you don’t cream on his cock, tangles his fingers through your hair in messy handfuls as he bounces you up and down. You should accept defeat, but you don’t. 

“Daddy,” you whine in your littlest, most submissive voice ever. He slows down a little to brush your hair back.

“Yes, baby?” 

You have to bite back a smile.

“What’s wrong? You can’t handle a little teasing?”

The friction is maddening, each thrust sending a jolt of heat up your spine. Leon’s head falls back against the couch, his lips parting in a low groan that makes your thighs tremble. God, he looks wrecked—hair sticking to his forehead, eyes dark and hooded, chest heaving with short spasms of breath.

“Fuck,” he rasps, his hands tightening on your hips. “Keep going, baby. Just like that.”

You smirk, rolling your hips slower this time, savoring the way his jaw clenches and his fingers dig into your flesh. “Like this?” you purr, leaning in close so your breath brushes his ear. He hisses in frustration, attempting to thrust into you, but you respond by lifting your hips so far off him that his tip is almost at your entrance.

His eyes snap to yours. It’s downright sinister how good he looks when he sees red. Hands fisting the couch below him so tightly that his knuckles turn white, betraying the calm demeanor he tries to maintain. Veins protruding up his arm, cock pulsing angrily within you. As if it was possible to feel any fuller. “Oh, you’re gonna regret that.”

You smile. Good. Let him break. Let him beg, for once.

Leon entertains you. You look plain adorable, blinking at him with big, droopy eyes and pawing at his thighs for support as you bounce. Up, down, up. He senses your movements slowing, and it brings him some sort of sexual schadenfreude to see you wrest what little bit of control you have left within you to fuck him. God, he could just fuck you forever. He glides a hand up your navel, seemingly without a care in the world, pecks your chest with kisses before lightly squeezing the sides of your neck. Judging by the way you squirm, he knows he’s affecting you more than you’re letting on. Then again, you were also affecting him more than he’d admit.

He knows he’s won this round when you slip off him, flopping on your back to touch yourself while he can’t do anything but watch–bullshit, he knows. You’ve overexerted yourself. Your eyes are barely open as you stroke long, imprecise circles into your clit, needing to get there, reach that edge and fall off, but not quite being able to. So you’re teasing him by taking a break. Smart, he thinks. But not enough to fool him.

“–Leon!” you squeal as he cages you beneath his body, arms flexing by your head, knees forcing yours apart. 

“Yes, princess?” he lilts, nipping your ear in affection before showering your face with kisses. “Something you want from me?”

Leon presses a hand down on your stomach, preventing you from lifting your hips. Then, slowly, he drags his cock against your soaked slit, tip barely nudging the entrance and making you gasp before he lifts it up, bumping your clit instead. You can see his shoulders strain, yet he maintains an agonizing amount of patience. How is he so patient? God, it feels like you’re burning up from the inside out. If he doesn’t fuck you right this moment, you might just give in. Be his submissive little girl, whatever. That’s not bad, actually. He’s practically nuzzling his face into your neck, lifting it up every so often to smile at you, bright blue eyes colored with mischief. And he just keeps grinding his tip against you, never quite giving you exactly what you need.

“Daddy can’t handle a little teasing?” he scoffs, mimicking your words from earlier. “Daddy can’t? Oh, I’ll show you what a little teasing is.”

//

yes i am celebrating the weekend by writing leon smut. MANNN what do you mean he’s not real like i can’t wake up each day and go leon leonnnn wake up sleepyhead you gorgeous man like

[airaatsu]

Heyy could you maybe write smut about min-su x fem!reader x se-mi? Where maybe Thanos like made fun of him before for being a virgin, and min-su now feels insecure so reader and se-mi decided to comfort him and it ends w them having a threesome?

No pressure if you don't wanna write/don't feel comfortable!! Have a good day/night ! :)

«—Se-mi x Fem!Reader x Min-su—»

Summary: Minsu is getting bullied by Thanos and his lackey about being a virgin. Now it's up to you and Se-mi to change that;)

A/N: I wrote this in a hurry, so please tell me if there are any errors in my writings! This is also going to be the first fic I post here, so enjoy!<3 (ALSO! I got the MDNI banner from cafekitsune! Many thanks♡♡)

Warnings: NSFW, oral(fem receiving), p in v, quickie in the bathroom, SMUTTTTT

“Min-su.” Se-mi called. You both walked back to your corner of the place after receiving dinner from the guards. “What’s wrong?” You asked, taking a seat beside Min-su, who just stared down at the food placed on his lap. He looked a bit more down than usual.

“What, did one of those assholes over there pick on you again?” Se-mi nodded her head in the direction where Thanos and that annoying lackey of his are before taking her seat beside you, taking a bite on her bread with a slight frown on her face. Her frown only deepened when he didn’t respond, she was about to stand up and have a word with the two if You hadn’t held her back.

“Hey, calm down.” You let out a sigh before turning to face Min-su. “Alright, what happened? What did they do now?” You asked, letting go of Se-mi’s arm once she sat back down beside you. “It’s alright.. they didn’t do anything.” Min-su replied, opening the plastic wrapper of the bread before taking a bite.

“Then what?” Se-mi looked like she was getting a bit impatient, she was practically shooting daggers at Thanos and Nam-gyu. Flipping them off whenever they looked her way. “They know I’m a virgin..” Min-su whispered, his shoulders tensing up a bit now that he confessed what was bothering him. “Okay.. and?” You followed, raising a brow at him. “Nothing’s wrong with being a virgin, Min-su. The only people who worries about that kind of thing are those brainless idiots back there.” Se-mi added. Pointing at Thanos and Nam-gyu, who seemed too engrossed with their conversations to notice..

“They said I would die being a virgin, especially in this place.” Min-su continued, now fidgeting at his the end of his jacket sleeves. You and Se-mi shared a look before a small smirk formed on your lips. “We can change that.” Se-mi smirked, finishing her own juice box with one go. “W-What? What do you mean?” That seemed to catch his attention enough, staring at the both of you with wide eyes. You could tell how surprised he is. “Well... How about this.” You leaned in closer, your breath tickling the skin of his neck. “Meet us at the bathroom later when the lights turn off. M’kay?” You leaned back, chuckling at how adorable he looked right now, all flushed and flustered. “You okay there, Min-su? You look as red as a tomato.” Se-mi teased, her smirk turning into a grin.

After that exchange, time flew fast, before you know it, you’re already stuffed in one of the bathroom stalls. Sitting on Min-su’s lap, for someone who seemed so timid all the time, You never knew how strong his grip could be. His hands were firmly holding you by your hips, keeping you seated on his cock while he sat on the closed toilet seat. You would’ve teased him by now, how he looked so adorable even like this, whimpering at the slightest movement and touches if it weren’t for Se-mi who has you moaning and gasping, she was kneeling down between your legs. Keeping your legs open with her hands on your thighs, sucking and licking your overstimulated clit in a way that has you coming over and over. Pair that with Min-su being inside you, thrusting up into your tight heat while those adorable whimpers left his lips.

“She feels good, doesn’t she, Min-su?” Se-mi pulled back, replacing her lips with her thumb. Rubbing you sensitive bundle of nerves while Min-su continued to fuck you. His head buried in the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent while also trying ro suppress his own noises. “Look at you, we’d have our own mini waterfall by now from how wet you are.” Se-mi laughed, pulling her hand away just when your about to cum again before standing up. Making you whine out. “Se-mi.. w-why—” “Shh, don’t worry, princess.” She cut you off, letting her pants fall on the floor, pooling down at her feet. Her hand ran through your hair before stopping on the back of your head, gently guiding your head towards her crotch. “What are you waiting for, princess? Go ahead and suck like a good girl.” She smirked, placing her right leg on your shoulder to give you more access. Too fucked out to say anything, you just complied, pressing your lips on her pussy, your hands eventually finding their way on his hips, holding them to keep you steady on Min-su’s lap. You sucked and licked, practically making out with her pussy. Your eyes rolling in the back of your head whenever Min-su would hit that spot inside you with his cock. Moaning into her pussy, sending vibrations through her, making Se-mi moan out as well.

“T-Tight..” Min-su whispered, groaning into your neck as he continued to thrust up into you. “Hm? You like it when it’s the two of us, huh, Princess?” Se-mi cooed. Biting her lower lip, sucking in a breath as she grinded against you faces. Bucking her hips against your lips. You couldn’t do anything but moan and whimper, you didn’t think having a threesome with both Se-mi and Min-su would feel this good.. this experience just proved you wrong. Min-su’s cock felt so good inside you, hitting that sweet spot over and over.. it made your brain turn into mush, and with Se-mi grinding into your mouth like this, it made you see stars. “Fuck, yeah, just like that.. you’re doing so good, Princess.. just a bit more.” She murmured.

“’m gonna cum..” Min-su whimpered, his thrusts getting more erratic, “M-Me too.” Se-mi breathes out. And with a few more thrusts. You were cumming on Min-su’s lap. Making a mess on his cock. Moaning softly when you felt his warm seed fill you up. His dick twitching inside of you. While Se-mi came on your mouth, making a mess on your face. Well, you looked and is too fucked out to even care.. let’s just hope the guards or other players won’t find this mess you made in this stall.. the guard standing guard outside probably already heard your shameless moans and groans. Oh well, not like they’d care.

What’s important now, is that Min-su is no longer a virgin, no reason for Thanos and Nam-gyu to tease him now.^^

[lani-heart]

|| series masterlist || next // previously ||

genre(s) -> smut, fluff, non-idol, hybrid au, poly au paring(s) -> yunho ( centric ) x reader warning(s) -> smut, mdni. 18+ words -> 2.4k

abstract -> collateral damage is inevitable for lifetime karma...

y/n’s perspective

Mingi fit in perfectly… but he missed his lifelong friend.

He admits he does and often has his mind wander with a sad look of reminiscence when reminded of Yunho… but he acknowledged that he wouldn’t change anything as long as he was here again.

“You’re doing quite well with the book right?” Chenle asked, taking me away from my thoughts while I nodded. 

“I'm halfway done, but I’m thinking of adding one more character to the main six,” I said. They nodded as Jising read my outline and Chenle skimmed through it.

“I still can’t believe how many hybrids you have now,” Chenle said and I smiled softly.

“But at the same time it makes sense,” Jisung said and we laughed. “To think you have Eunchae to thank for that,” Chenle said and he was right.

She pushed me into going to an adoption center where I met San and that was history. 

“I say we’re gonna have to start putting a cap on how many hybrids you have” Chenle released and I laughed. “Hmm… eight?” Jisung suggested and I rolled my eyes. 

“y/n, he’s all good to go!” I heard as I saw Kun and Mingi. 

“The sweet life changed him a lot you know,” Chenle said and I was confused and so was Mingi. “He looks way happier and healthier than when he came. Besides, he looks good in designer” Chenle and Jisung teased. 

“Her hybrids have a better life than me and Haechan,” Jisung said and I sighed. I turned to Mingi who seemed to be happy by their comments. His tail wagging behind him as he grinned at me. 

“Ready to go?” I asked and he nodded as we left the pair outside of the kennel. “You seem happy after your session,” I said and he nodded. “The doctor said I've improved so much I might be finishing my sessions soon!” he grinned and did the same. 

“We should celebrate!” I said and he looped his arm with mine as we walked to the cafe. I always took him too. As we made it there we waited for a bit to get seated like normal but noticed Mingi tensed up. “Mingi!” I heard as I saw two little kids run up to us. He seemed scared…

“What did I tell you two about running off!” I heard and I sighed… she-devil. “Oh, you… I see you actually adopted the mutt” she said and I rolled my eyes. I noticed behind her carrying leftovers, coats, and her purse was Yunho. 

He seemed wide-eyed seeing Mingi again… I even saw a soft smile appear on his face. 

“You’re quite the hybrid collector, aren't you… runts darling aren’t valuable to anyone though” she said and I scoffed. “Am I supposed to take advice from you?” I asked and she glared. 

“You’re such an immature brat” she muttered and I smirked. “I guess… hey how’s bankr–” “Shut up!” she yelled and left with Yunho sighing and bowing to me before leaving. 

“Are you okay?” I asked and Mingi nodded sadly… “What’s wrong?” I asked and he sighed. “It's strange… seeing Yunho on the opposite side of things. I bet she treats him with the bare minimum unlike how she treated me but… I also never thought I was worthy of being treated better” he confessed and I smiled and held his hand. 

“You're with me now,” I said and he smiled and nodded. “Yeah… thank you,” he said and I chuckled. “You never have to thank me for that. And Mingi? This is the bare minimum… not what she does” I said and he nodded. 

“It’s fine… I was thinking we could order something different today?”

mingi’s perspective

Seeing Yunho confused me… it was a mix of emotions. 

I finally accepted that y/n wanted me. Me of all hybrids. Seonghwa, Hongjoong, Yeosang, Wooyoung, and even San wanted me there. Not Yunho… not him. Never have they ever asked about him either. 

Never have I had something that was solely mine away from Yunho and I was happy. 

I missed him… I did. But when I think about how much I missed him, I realize I would have to share this with him. Share them with him. Share her with him. 

It made me feel sick otherwise. 

Sure she has five other hybrids. I shared her with them… more like they shared her with me. But… the thought of Yunho stepping in would destroy me… even makes me feel bitter feelings towards him. 

“You’ve been stuck staring at the ceiling since you came back… do I need to tell y/n you’re acting up again?” Hongjoong asked and I shook my head. “I’m fine…” I said and he huffed as if he didn’t believe me. 

“I am… honest. We saw Yunho at the cafe we go to after my sessions, I just have mixed feelings” I said and he looked at me as if he was analyzing me. “You’ve talked less about Mingi recently… you’ve been here for two months and I haven’t heard you talk about Yunho since… probably a few weeks ago,” he said and I nodded. 

“He’s my best friend… there will never be anything to doubt that but, im content with the life I have now without him” 

y/n’s perspective

For some reason… She requested that our hybrids not be present at all, which worried me. I felt like she was planning something and I didn’t know what.

It was also strange cause Hongjoong was the one who always came with me and now to be alone was worrisome. “You’re here early” I heard as I saw Jaehyun. “Want this over with,” I said and he chuckled.

“I get what you mean, sorry by the way about no hybrids today,” he said and I shook my head. It’s not his fault…

I was just anxious about what she had planned. 

She was an unprofessional woman!

I was currently sitting on a bench trying to cool down and not cry over her comments. She had her kids run around and even spilled water on me several times… not even just once and the girl kept on grabbing my bag plus even put spilled juice on it so now it was sticky. 

The boy also tried to put gum in my hair… I wasn’t having a good day... 

“I’m sorry!” I heard as I saw… Yunho? “I remember you! You’re the hybrid who stole from people! You stole five hundred dollars from me!” a man yelled at the hybrid. Why was he… out and without a collar? 

Yunho couldn’t do anything but let the man scold him. I sighed and took out five bills and tapped the man’s shoulder. “Huh? Who are you?” he asked and I saw Yunho look at me shocked… “Just take it and stop yelling” I said and he seemed embarrassed but took the money and ran away. 

“You didn’t have to do that… I deserved it” he said and I sighed. “Come on Yunho,” I said and he looked confused… but besides that still followed me. We walked in silence until we made it to the hybrid center.

“y/n! What brings… why are you wet?” Haechan asked and I sighed.

“Long story… is Kun or Doyoung busy?” I asked and he shook his head before leading me to Kun’s office while Yunho followed me closely. 

“What are you doing here? And why are you a mess?” he asked and Yunho came inside with me. “Yunho?” he said, confused. “He was on the street alone, with no collar,” I said and he nodded while telling me he’ll be a minute. “Why are you helping me?” he asked and I gave him a soft smile.

“Cause you don’t seem like a bad hybrid… and you’re also important to Mingi,” I said and he nodded. “Is he here then? Last time I saw him, he said you were only fostering him for a week” he said and he looked desperate to see his friend. 

“I actually ended up adopting him,” I said and he grinned. He seemed happy at the sudden news.

“Is he okay then? Happier?” he said and I saw how his tail wagged at the thought of his friend being happy. I smiled and nodded. “He fits in well with everyone,” I said and I saw how his eyes lit up. 

“I’m glad…” he smiled to himself. 

“I’m sorry by the way what she did… she was getting the twins ready to misbehave today and I'm assuming they did,” he said and I sighed. “You can say that,” I said and he looked apologetic. “But it shouldn’t be you apologizing, you did nothing wrong,g” I said and he shook his head. 

“I did… I robbed you and I caused you trouble, so much trouble, and I–" "Yunho, I forgive you. Mingi explained it… you did it cause you needed to. I understand” I say and he sighs. 

“Yunho?!” I heard as I saw the she-devil herself. “How dare you! I’ll sue for stealing my hybrid!” she yelled and I sighed. Was this her plan? “Yunho, can you explain why you were alone in the street?” Kun asked and he looked at me nervously. Was he also in on this? 

“She left me alone in the middle of Seoul… she told me to find y/n and make sure I went with her but I didn’t want to, I promise! She was gonna lie and try to make this a civil affair, I'm sorry!” he apologized and she scoffed. “He’s lying… he must’ve learned that from the filthy wolf hybrid,” she said and I scoffed. 

“I’m sorry, miss but this is going to become a hybrid mistreatment case”

 I finally made it home where I was greeted by Wooyoung’s excited yell welcoming me back. He was rambling as he led me to the kitchen saying they already ate since it was late but how he was gonna prepare a plate for me. 

“Why are you… sticky?” I heard as I saw Yeosang as he touched the stain on my coat. “Little kids will be kids especially if their parents are as immature as them,” I said and he sighed, seeming to know what I meant. 

“Where’s Mingi?” I asked and he hummed. “Why… did something happen?” he asked, looking right through me and I sighed. “I found Yunho in the middle of the street being berated as the thief and… apparently she planned to sue me for stealing her hybrid but he confessed to her tricks,” I said and he looked surprised. 

“She’d go that far? What happened to the giant dog anyway?” he asked and I sighed… “Hybrid Mistreatment Case is now open… I doubt he’ll be under her care anymore but he’ll officially be up for adoption” I said and he nodded. 

“And you want to talk about it with Mingi,” he said and I nodded. “I just… I don't know. He seems to have mixed feelings about him especially when seeing him around with me” I muttered and he nodded. 

“He did say he always had to share things with Yunho… never felt superior to him so it makes sense” he muttered. “Still… I know he misses him. I want him to at least talk to his old friend” I said and he stared. 

“They're bonded aren’t they?” he asked and I nodded. 

“Wooyoung bonded himself to me while San and him are also bonded. The tigers to each other as well… separating a bonded pair can be damaging to the hybrid’s mental health” he explained. “If… you were to one day decide you didn’t want us or… me I’d feel lost too. Like nothing will be the same again” he confessed. 

“Are you bonded to me?” I asked and he smiled. “You’re my mate, angel. Of course, I'm bound to you… even though I could function… other hybrids of yours wouldn’t. Senghwa and I are probably the only ones…” he said and I knew what he meant. 

Like how Wooyoung’s depressive episodes can get and how San lost some of his memories due to the trauma… Hongjoong though as of recently put his life purpose to protect me.

“Don’t dwell on it too much” he said and I nodded. 

“Oh! I wanted to make sure that you didn’t want to go anywhere? I can still make reservations for you–" "And while I appreciate the offer, no thanks… I would rather not leave if I can avoid it and besides with Wooyoung cooking meat for Mingi these last two months I'd rather just order a bunch of fried chicken and eat it here with some cake” he said and I smiled. 

“Ok… but if you change your mind–” he smiled softly and shook his head while I talked “–the offer stands I'll make it work I promise!” I said and he chuckled. “Thank you, angel”

I can’t believe it sometimes…

It's been a fast year with San and Wooyoung but Yeosang as well… next month will mark a year. 

yunho’s perspective

Everything I did… was to make Mingi happy. It made his life a little easier but I think in the end I always did the opposite. I’m the reason he was so down… so bad with his own self-esteem. The reason he thinks he doesn’t deserve the world. 

And yet… I still hope that she changes that. Even if he hates me now.

Every time I’ve seen her with him… he’d look at me with a look of uncertainty… envy, or simply just annoyance…

I deserved what fate brought upon me. In a cage… with nothing else in here but my thoughts. They said I'd surely get adopted again… but it would never be the same. Mingi wouldn’t be with me.

“Yunho, in an hour you’ll be in touch with a social worker in charge of hybrid cases and a lawyer so we need to get you ready” I heard and I nodded. They were now putting on a collar and any procedures they needed for me to talk about her verbal abuse and neglect…

Everything… since I was a kid. And everything that I witnessed Mingi goes through… every punishment he had and the punishment I took in his place to lessen his pain. 

Every physical altercation… any humiliating thing she made us perform. 

Everything I… had to go through in this miserable lifetime… was just me paying for the collateral.

@wonuangel @danirael @angelsaway @krissroo @minkysmilk @mayonnaise-on-toast @robertsbbygirl @superbbananananana @hyukssunflower @kitty4hwa @justconniez @senpai-of-doom @kibs-and-bits @caityelise99 @ilovekinny @ateezennie23 @wooahaelemons @purplelady85 @watamotee33@chidess97 @littlelostdemonofthelight @maliamaiden @burntarm1n @spooo00oky @eastleighsblog @momo-peachy @kitstar1117 @quartzpirate @sunnyhokyu @iwishiwasrichasfuck @theginger543210 @pandolinka @ddaeing @kpopnightingale @slid3er @kekdo-520 @puppyminnnie @sparklinghwa222 @calicanbeevil @itsvxlentine @atinism @loumin908 @smally97 @rxnexxi @acetruepunk @majesticbeluga @namjooncrabs @tashizxy @itstheghostofmypast @smilefordongil @teeziny @totallynotlyntv @kyeos4ng @prodsh00ky @acescavern

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[pinkolve]

A Spencer Reid Fic- The One Where He Reads Her Diary

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Summary: Spencer Reid gets pressured into reading your diary. How will things end after you find out...

Genre: Fluff, and a little angst

CW: Autistic coded!Fem!Reader, use of Y/N, a bit of dramatic? reader, sad Spencer :(, steamy kisses, slight artist!reader.

Word Count: 2,227

A/N: I'm not the best at writing in a reader's perspective!! I always write my fics with myself in mind, so y/n is usually very similar to myself. I hope you still enjoy this anyways, and let me know if you have any tips for writing x reader fics!! Thank you! <33

Y/N’s always been an honest person, she always tells people exactly what she thinks. She’s blunt, but still kind. Y/N believes that everyone deserves to know the truth, especially when specifically asking for it. But, she also has millions of secrets piled up. Some of them, people know. The others…No one knows, except her diary. 

Y/N had just turned twenty-two a few months ago. Some would argue she’s much too old for a diary, while others would say how beneficial it is for the mind. Like Spencer Reid, for example. He himself had a journal, he just hadn’t used it nearly as much as she did.

He used his journal to talk about important events or changes in his life, while Y/N used it for everything. She wrote everything she ever thought, and drew whatever came to mind. 

The one mistake she had made from the start was keeping her diary in her work bag…That she always left on her desk when she left for the bathroom. 

***

“Reid, man, come on. You need to tell her eventually.” Morgan bantered, standing right next to Spencer’s desk. 

“I’d rather not look like an idiot, Morgan.” Spencer slightly rolled his eyes, still focused on his paperwork. 

“You already do?” Morgan said, confused. Spencer looked up with a scowl. “I’m just messin’ with you Pretty Boy! Just ask her out for coffee, nothing wrong with coffee.” He shrugged. Spencer simply shook his head, staring back down at his files. Morgan shook his own head in disapproval before walking back to his own desk, passing Y/N’s in the process. 

As he passed by, his hip bumped the half-open bag on her desk, knocking it to the floor. Morgan immediately turned around and swore. He set his mug down on the desk and bent down to grab her bag. He took notice of a surprisingly thick notebook. He picked it up and reveled at how heavy it was. Morgan looked at the cover to read ‘Diary.’ His eyes immediately widened. 

A smirk took over his face as he placed the bag back on her desk and carried the journal back over to Reid’s desk. Once he was close enough, he threw the journal on the desk with a particularly loud ‘thud.’ Lucky for the two of them, the office was mostly empty so they were able to pull more shenanigans than usual. 

Spencer looked over at the cover and looked up at his friend with furrowed brows. 

“What is this?” 

“Y/L/N’s diary. Fell out of her bag.” He gestured behind him. Spencer’s face went white, his jaw dropping, and eyes almost bursting out of his head. 

“You cannot be serious! Put this back!” He jumped up from his desk, journal in hand, ready to bring it back to its rightful home. 

“Woah there, Pretty Boy!” Morgan put his palms against Reid’s chest, pushing him back in his desk chair. “You have a major advantage here. You read that, and you’ll probably know everything Y/N’s ever thought about you.” He wiggled his eyebrows. Spencer’s face was angry. “Look Reid, if Y/N finds out I’ll take all the blame. I’ll tell her I read it to you and you didn’t want anything to do with it.” Spencer looked down at the book in his hands, contemplating. 

“I can’t believe I’m letting you convince me into doing this.” Spencer sighed, shaking his head to himself. He hated the idea of invading his best friend’s privacy but he was also still a man. A man with a terrible crush on said best friend. How could he hold her very diary in his own two hands and not read a single word? “One page, that’s it!” Spencer groaned while Morgan ‘woo-hooed.’

Spencer took notice of just how thick the journal was before opening to the newest page. He held the book open gently, praying he wouldn’t break it since it was falling apart already. He looked at the left page, two messy sketches were drawn there in pen. They both were of him, the specific view Y/N had of him from her own desk. These are actually pretty good…He thought to himself. 

“Holy shit, Reid. Is that you?” Morgan practically gasped. 

“Yeah.” He whispered, too entranced by the book. The right page had an entry. 

11/10/24 Sunday, 6:22 pm

Dear Diary, 

Today hasn’t been very eventful. I came into work to try and finish some of my paperwork. Morgan and Spencer apparently had the same idea. I’ve been feeling so weird around Spencer lately. I can’t quite put my finger on why. Usually I feel fine around him, he is my best friend after all. I think it may have something to do with the wet dream I had about him last night…I can’t quite shake it from-

“Okay! That’s enough!” Spencer shut the book harshly, his face beet red. Morgan looked at him with a wide grin. 

“Why wouldn’t you keep reading? It was just gettin’ good!” He chuckled. Spencer glared at him. “Well, now we know she likes you.” Morgan smirked. 

“This doesn’t prove anything! People have wet dreams about other people when they don’t even like them, all the time!” Spencer almost screamed. Just then, Y/N came in through the large glass doors, letting out a loud sigh and stretching. She took one look at her desk and groaned. 

“Derek Morgan, I told you to stop leaving your coffee on my desk!” She complained, grabbing it angrily. She looked over at the two, their faces covered in guilt. “What happened to you guys?” She questioned. 

“Nothing. Nothing at all!” Spencer yelled, awkwardly covering the journal with both his arms. Y/N walked towards them while chuckling.��

“Come on guys, you look totally guilty. What’d you do?” She smiles at Morgan then looks over at Spencer, taking notice of the large lump under his arms. “What’s that? Did you accidentally buy erotica again?” She shook her head. She reached over to pry his arms away from the object. “I told you to stop-” Y/N cut myself off, staring at her own journal. Her face drained of any color and every feature on her face practically melted. 

“Y/N/N, I’m so-” Spencer started.

“Shut up.” She spit out. She tore her journal from him and slammed Morgan’s coffee on his desk, causing it to spill everywmye. She practically ran back to her own desk and packed her things. 

“Y/L/N, it wasn’t his fault. I’m the one who-” Morgan tried to reason. 

“I said shut the fuck up!” She screeched, her face red with anger and embarrassment. “I never thought you would do something like this to me. I trusted you with everything I had and you broke it like it was nothing.” She was crying now, looking between the two men. But all of them knew she was only really talking to Spencer. 

“Y/N, please-” 

“Don’t ever talk to me again you fucking asshole!” She sobbed out before running to the elevator and making a fast exit. Morgan looked over at Spencer and his heart nearly broke. Spencer looked like a wounded puppy, his eyes were wide and filled with unshed tears. He looked frozen in place, he couldn’t move a single inch. He begged any and every deity he could think of to make Y/N come back so he could explain. They hadn’t listened to any of his pleas. 

***

Y/N lay in her living room on her large corner sofa. The TV was on, playing ‘Gilmore Girls’ very loudly. She hoped to drown out any thought she had with the noise. So far, it wasn’t working. 

She hadn’t been to work in nearly a week, it was currently Saturday and no one had heard from her. She only called Hotch to tell him she wouldn’t be in for a while, sick with the flu. She sure as hell couldn’t admit that the real reason was because her crush read her diary. It felt stupid enough in middle school, she wasn’t about to say it aloud to her own boss. 

Everyone on the team was very worried, getting barely any information and zero replies from Y/N. Penny, Emily, Morgan and J.J had all come to her apartment on different occasions, begging to see her. She never let them in. The only thing she cared about was seeing Spencer, but at the same time, she never wanted to see him again. Funnily enough, Spencer was the only one who hadn’t come over. Y/N was partially glad for this because she knew if he was at her door, she wouldn’t be able to stop herself from opening it. 

Spencer had of course sent about fifty-three text messages and made twenty-four phone calls to her. Once again, all of them were ignored. Spencer was the kind of person who liked to talk in person, apologize in person. All his text messages were him begging to talk to Y/N, to let him explain. None of them actually contained any excuses or apologies. She was clearly clueless on any reasoning he had, or how much he had read, because he didn’t want to say any of it in a meaningless text. He had been waiting since Wednesday for the weekend to come rolling around. He planned to show up and explain everything, but he needed to make sure they had plenty of time to talk, hence the weekend. 

Everyone on the team knew of his plan so they all refrained from going over themselves. They just hoped the two would figure everything out. 

*** 

Y/N had just gotten out of the shower when she heard a knock on her door. She rolled her eyes to herself and sighed, looking at the time. 

“Which one of them has the brilliant idea to come over at eight in the morning?!” She yelled to herself. She softly and slowly walked against the hardwood floor, careful not to make a single noise and alert whoever was behind the door. She wouldn’t answer it but she at least wanted to know who it was this time. 

“Y/N…It’s me.” Spencer’s voice rang out and she froze. “I know you’re angry but I really need to talk to you. Please let me in.” His voice was pathetic and sad, cracking occasionally. Within seconds the door opened in front of him. There stood the girl he’s been dreaming of seeing all week. Her hair was soaking wet and so were her shoulders and arms. A towel was wrapped around her body tightly, showing off her figure. Spencer watched a single droplet of water pass down between the valley of her breasts. 

“H-Hey.” Spencer choked out. 

“Hi.” Y/N greeted shyly. 

“I need to talk to you.”

“So I heard.” She nodded a little. “What about?” 

“You know what about…” 

“Okay, fine. What specific part of that interaction would you like to discuss? What, did you just come over to make fun of me? To ridicule me for the way I feel? Did you come over here just to humiliate me even more?!” Y/N’s voice raised the more she spoke. 

“No!” Spencer yelled, cutting her off. “I don’t want to do any of that!” He sighed to himself. “I…I never should have read your diary. Morgan convinced me, and I know I should have reacted better, and not listened to him. He just kept telling me how…Convinient it would be. I’ve been scared to tell you how I really feel for the last two years. He told me that reading your diary would be the perfect way to see how you feel about me before I confessed and made an idiot of myself. I just…I had a weak moment and I hate that I hurt you in the process.” A couple tears fell from the corners of his eyes. “I’m so…So sorry, Y/N/N.” 

She looked up at him with an expressionless face. Spencer looked back into her eyes with the saddest look on his face. He was about to ask her what she was thinking when she told him instead. 

“Do you like me? Romantically?” She asked, voice monotone. 

“Of course I do. I genuinely thought it was obvious, I can never stop how flustered I get around you. All I’ve dreamed about since we became friends is spending my life with you. Whether we spend it as best friends or more, I couldn’t care less. I just want you with me every step of the way” Spencer spoke honestly. 

“Kiss me.” Y/N blurted out. Spencer’s eyes went wide. 

“W-What?” He stuttered. 

“Please.” She breathed out. “Kiss me.” Her eyes were heavy and clouded. Spencer was quick to reach down and grab the sides of her face in his hands, pushing their lips together roughly. Y/N whimpered the minute his lips touched her own. Just as fast as the kiss happened it turned sloppy. Spencer’s hands travelled down to her waist, gripping tightly. She had wrapped her arms around his neck, her breasts pushing up against his chest. Their tongues collided and twirled against each other. 

“I love you, Spencer.” She whispered against his lips. 

“I love you more, Y/N.” He sighed.

[harmeu]

ARGUMENTS 

(HSR X READER) (ANGST)

(Amphoreus Men)

(GN!READER)

MYDEI: (His devotion to his fight which results in neglect.)

You couldn’t remember the last time you and your beloved spouse had talked to each other. It was as if Mydei’s mind was constantly on things that neglected you heavily. Even a simple “How are you today”  would’ve been enough at this point. It hurt a lot. As if millions of daggers pierced you everytime Mydei walked past without saying anything. You were his lover for God’s sake.

Mydei was in the training room punching dummies with ease, letting them break into shards as they thumped onto the ground, his knuckles bleeding heavily from the constant fight.

You stepped in peeking through the small opening of the door with your wide gaze contemplating to yourself if you should walk in and say something or not. 

Eventual acceptance of the option ‘yes’ overthrew your mind so you walked in and Mydei’s keen senses picked up on it immediately.

“What is it.” His gruff reply made it sound like he was annoyed. (Which he probably was.) 

“You’ve been busy lately.” You mumbled out moving from one foot to another a bit nervous to how he was going to reply.

“Of course I am. You know my duties.” Mydei went back to smashing his fists against the solid wooden dummies as you winced at the sight and decided to walk up, up to him.

“I miss you.” You murmured out making Mydei freeze slightly and you could’ve sworn he softened. But as fast as it came it vanished. Mydei was back to his tense state. 

“You should know everything I deal with in a singular day.”

“But I’m your lover!” You exclaimed out flinching at your own tone of voice and words making Mydei turn looking at you in your eye for the first time. 

“That doesn’t matter.” He huffed out. Okay wow. Now it was your turn to be cruel.

“No wonder everyone finds you difficult.” You spat back leaving the door slamming heavily making the walls vibrate as Mydei stared dumbfounded at the shut door clenching his fists.

PHANION: (Accusations that result in anger.)

Phanion was a gentle soul with you. The perfect boyfriend in your eyes. Though as days passed you had a weird gut feeling. As if he was talking to someone other than you. Not possible. Right. The constant ‘they’re just a friend’ sounded like a lie. But you didn’t have any proof. Not yet at least.

Phanion was sitting on your local bench quietly reading as you walked up to him with a half lidded gaze of suspicion. Feeling your hard gaze Phanion sighed, shutting his book and standing up to match your height.

“Don’t give me that look.” Phanion murmured frowning with a pained expression on his face making you feel a hint of guilt. 

“It’s just that you’re constantly not letting me meet your friends at all. As if you’re hiding something from me.” Your fists clenched, eyeing up at Phanion as he narrowed his own gaze at your words.

“I do not let you meet them in order for them to not do anything to you darling.” Lies. You repeated in your head. You were being unreasonable. You knew that. But your gut feeling never failed you. 

“I don’t believe you.” You said spitefully making Phanion droop in hurt as you frowned at his reaction. You were expecting anger.

“Why don’t you trust me?” Phanion said holding your hand. He really had to pull that card out didn’t he.

“I do..I just.” As if knowing you were in the wrong, the only option left in your mind was to get out of the scene immediately. You let go of Phanions hand shakily leaving Phanion standing next to the bench alone as he stared at your slowly disappearing figure with a pained look.

ANAXA: (His anger towards the Gods.)

You knew your spouse's hatred towards the Gods. It never bothered you really because the people of Amphoreus worshipped titans rather than the Aeons above. Though Anaxa seemed to be solely focused on that singular emotion of hatred removing everything else in his life. Including you.

You were sitting in bed with Anaxa as he fixed up his eyepatch with his usual elegance as he eyed the several books in front of him that talked about the several elements the Gods gave down to the mortals.

“Anaxa.” You mumbled out tilting your head as Anaxa hummed out a reply as you frowned. “Why are you so focused on this subject?” 

Anaxa sighed at your words as if he was contemplating you speaking out on this matter and turned his gaze towards you. 

“You don’t know what these Aeons have done to our people. They’re vultures.” Anaxa spat out with seeming elegance despite his harsh words. 

“I feel like you’re forgetting about everything to focus on this.” You said a hushed whisper as Anaxa narrowed his gaze.

“That’s utter lies darling. I have enough mindspace to deal with everything.” You stared at him blankly. You doubted it at this point honestly.

“I feel like you’re lying.” Silence dawned between the two of you at your words as if rendering Anaxa speechless from your statement. Which added onto your doubt from his quietness. 

Silently Anaxa grabbed his things and left. 

Did he just storm off?

I post in like once a century oopsie (Since I don't know anything about the characters personalities I went off looks and the trailers)

[insane-arcane]

Yandere Jayce X Reader X Viktor

You'd just made a breakthrough in your work and Sky had taken you out to celebrate. After a few drinks too many and a couple fun appetizers you made your way home. She offered to walk you but you could hold your liquor and weren't worried about getting back to your apartment which was relatively close. Walking her back to the Academy making sure not to stumble so she wouldn't worry she pauses at her dorm buildings door. Her eyes glance to the left then the right as her hand stays latched around your wrist. She asks if she should call a carriage or security to escort you to your apartment but slipping your hand away you wave her off with a confident smile.

The walk home was pleasant. It was a warm night with a gentle breeze blowing and as you walked you took everything in with a happy glow. The drinks somehow make the world a much brighter place. You wished you were this optimistic all the time. We're the gardens always this beautiful? We're they always missing so many blooms?

Entering your home with a slight giggle you hum confused staring at your furniture. Had they been moved? Figuring it was the alcohol you shrug it off but then you hear something. Eyes narrowing you regret not taking Sky's offer as a heavy feeling of dread settles in your stomach. Creeping to your kitchen careful not to step on any loose boards you look for a weapon.

Eyes scanning the tools you grab a meat cleaver off your kitchen stand before you pause. You still had time, if there was an intruder they had no idea you were here. You could leave and get security downstairs but what if you were wrong? What if you hadn't heard anything? They'd think you were Crazy or a Drunk. You might get in trouble for nothing and you couldn't afford the rumors it might cause.

Deciding to bite the bullet and hope for once you were wrong you kick your bedroom door open. Holding out the knife you pause.

Your favorite smell wafts through the air and you suddenly feel calmer, your shoulders dropping almost instantly. Your pounding headache begins to fade and you wonder where it's coming from and if you left a candle on. Blinking you close your eyes before you put a hand to your head. Taking a deep breath you're finally able to focus on the disarray of your room and who was inside.

"Viktor! Jayce! What the fuck?" You demand as you stand in your doorway Meat Cleaver ready to be used. Viktor was leaning against Jayces shoulder tired but hearing your voice he slightly stirred.

"Ahhhh (Y/N) your here!" Jayce states getting up off the bed and walking away from Viktor. He claps his hands before gesturing to the well decorated room. Viktor makes an annoyed sound at being disturbed but simply grabs his cane and slowly stands up when he sees it's you.

"Yes. I live here. What are you doing here?" You demand pointing your knife at them. Your brain buzzed and you were a little to tired for all of this. How did they get into your apartment? Why were they in your apartment? A million questions buzzed through your brain.

"See I told you it was a bit much? Ja?" Viktor says as he pinches his nose before he uses his free hand to wipe at his face trying to wake up. He looked at you with a sleepy grin and you roll your eyes in disbelief.

"No it was romantic." Jayce defends as he turns to look at Viktor making you groan. Jayce would think that wouldn't he, delusional as he was?

"I admit we may have gone overboard." Viktor states as he sees your displeased look. "But only with the best intentions love, nothing sinister see?" He questions and you hum noticing the melted candles and rose petals.

"How... How did you get into my house?" You question staring at the romantic setup with a confused and slightly worried look.

"Technicalities don't matter. Do you like it?" Staring at all the romantic pros you take a deep breath and press your hand to your forehead as you felt another much stronger headache coming on.

"I... Yes it's nice. Viktor did you break into my house?" You question slowly. You didn't want to insinuate anything since he was from the Undercity but your door being unlocked and them being in your apartment told you they'd somehow snuck or otherwise broke in. You were very specific about your lock routine not wanting any research or valuables to be stolen from you since you spent a majority of your time in the lab.

"Do you really want to know lovley?" Viktor teases and you close your eyes again. You were too tired and too drunk, honestly you didn't. You really didn't. You just wanted to collapse on your bed and sleep.

"Did you pick my lock?" You question softly. It's not an accusation, more of a hypothesis but you already know the answer before either answer. Viktor gives you a sheepish smile and shrugs as if to say who knows. But you made your own assumptions and you knew exactly how they got in. Golden eyed cheeky bastard.

"Were getting off track." Jayce interjects as he steps in front of you and grabs your shoulders before he turns you towards the bed.

"Okay I'll bite. What is all of this?" You question not letting go of the meat cleaver as he walks you closer to your bed.

"A romantic gesture." You stared at all the flowers, rose petals, candles, and chocolate covered fruits in trays.

"... Romantic is not the word I'd use. Unnecessary perhaps." You respond making a face as Jayce urges you to sit.

"(Y/N) you wound me so." Jayce states pouting. Humming in acknowledgment you stare at your room, at what they'd done for you. At the mess you'd have to clean later.

"I'd offer you a glass of wine but it seems you've had your fill." Viktor suddenly says looking concerned, perhaps annoyed. You weren't entirely sure what laid behind his eyes in that moment but something you weren't used to. Rolling your eyes in turn for what feels like the hundredth time you place the knife down.

"Oh I'm going to need a glass after all this." You state as you bring your hands up to your face.

“As long as you share.” Jayce responds nuzzling into your neck. Giggling scooting away from the affectionate gesture you whine as Jayces soft lips touch your neck, so different from his calloused hands that wrap around your waist. The inventors crafty hands slip under your shirt and graze across your ticklish stomach. As gooseflesh rises on your arms your eyes flutter and Jayce hums clearly enjoying himself.

Viktor chuckles watching you get flustered. “Where were you?” He questions as he sits on the other side of you tilting your face towards him. As you smile leaning into his warm hand he smirks slightly, enjoying the contact. “(Y/N)...?” He hums lips hovering over yours as he waits for an answer.

“Celebrating with Sky. I wanted you both to come but couldn't find you.” You respond and he nods satisfied before leaning in to close the gap. As Viktors lips touch yours Jayces hands begin to fiddle with your clothes.

“You found us.” Jayce teases and you shiver as Viktor deepens the kiss and Jayce continues to gently grope you. Their hands only getting more desperate as they squish you in-between them.

You did indeed. You found something you didn't even know you were looking for. A fact they seemed to be forgetting. As their lips crash against yours and their hands feel your body you whine. They shouldn't be here, you shouldn't be doing this. But the more they kissed you and the more you sunk into your sheets with their sweet words whispered in your ear the less you cared. Slightly hazy from the alcohol but enjoying the feeling none the less you wonder if life has always been this colorful. If it was the alcohol or the thrill of it all. And when you woke up would it still be this colorful entwined in their arms?

Or would the harsh truth of their breaking in ruin the morning mood? You're not sure and as they continue to kiss and hold you, only getting more desperate for you after waiting for so long, you realize that's a problem for tomorrow. For now it's colorful.

[lilreidgirl]

My boy

Summary: You have an affair with a married man and get the consequences and they are not exactly bad

Warnings: MDNI(18+), fingering, unprotected sex (don´t), cheating (Spencer is married to Maeve), religious talk kinda??, swearing, praise, storyline is a bit rushed!, NOT PROOFREAD, SORRY

WC: ~1.8k

A/N: ---

You knew it was wrong. Very wrong. Sleeping with a married man was something you swore you would never do. Every time it happened on TV you’d turn to your mother and say, “How could they ever do that?”, and shed answer with “Love is complicated. You´ll understand one day.” And you did, the fateful day you met Spencer was the day you understood. Although not really, more so that it was multiple weeks where you little by little realized that yes, love was complicated.

You had met Maeve a few times, team dinners and get-togethers that she attended, she was pretty, kind, smart, everything Spencer could ever even dream of having. Almost right out of the bat you started crushing on him, noticing how damn attractive he was and how kind hearted his personality shown on the people around him.

It wasn’t until he showed up at your hotel one night, tears staining his cheeks and manifesting in his eyes, that you saw a more vulnerable, honest side of him. He had had a fight with Maeve, again he had said. You sat crisscross on the end of your bed, facing his body that was slumped onto your mattress, legs hanging off the edge.

He expressed his feelings about how hard it’s been and how she can’t seem to even try to understand what he’s going through, your heart shattered at his confessions. As he lay there, in your hotel bed, staring at you in silence like you had the answer to all his problems, you couldn’t stop yourself from moving a hand to his solemn face, brushing a messy loose strand of his hair off of his forehead.

When you heard the way his inhales and exhales quickened and deepened, your hand stilled any movements. A silence took over the room, one where the world stood still, your eyes trained on each other’s. Then before you knew it and could truly processes the horrible moral sin of an action that it was, you leaned down and kissed him.

At first, it was only your lips moving but after a small moment where you were just about to pull away because your thoughts finally took in how wrong it was, he kissed you back. Large hands gripped the sides of your face, fingers dug into the strands of your hair as his plump lips skillfully lapped over your own. His tongue had made its way into your mouth as you moved to straddle his hips, holding yourself up on his chest with your hands.

And in the back of your mind, you knew: this was wrong. But for that fleeting, shattering moment, it didn’t feel wrong at all.

It was wrong when you both stripped all your clothes and left each other bare, it was wrong when he sank his length into you; making you moan out his name in pleasure, it was wrong when he pumped his cock in and out of you at a perfectly paced rhythm, hitting all of the right spots, it was wrong when you both came at the same time; muttering “ohgodohgodohgodohgodohgod” as you did, it was wrong when the last thing you whispered to each other before you drifted off to sleep was “I love you”.

It was wrong, but it sure as hell didn’t feel wrong, it felt perfect. And every time you guys slept together after that also felt perfect. Of course, you both knew how horrible it was, you tried talking about it but it never really played out to even be considered a full conversation.

You pushed the door open, peeking through the crack you had created. Spencer sat on his couch, elbows held on his knees as he persistently ran his hands through his already unruly hair. “Everything okay?” You asked, not missing the irony of asking that question while you slipped out of the shared bedroom of him and his wife that was currently away on a business trip, and into their living room.

He looked up, eyes travelling over you as his brain lagged and took in the fact that you had spoken. “Oh uh- yeah…”

With a face that very clearly told him you didn’t believe him, you made your way towards him, crawling onto his lap, feet resting on the couch as you leaned the side of your upper body onto his chest and your head onto his shoulder. “Really?” You asked.

A sigh left him and a moment of silence followed before he spoke up. “I… I um…” You traced a line down his chest with your finger hoping to give him some comfort with the action and your words, “Don’t worry, you can tell me,” you tried to reassure. “Maeve and I…” Your skin prickled at the mention of her name, fear ensuing you that maybe he had decided to finally end things with you for her, “We´re getting a divorce. I told her.”

The shock you felt for a moment after his words was quickly flushed out by the excitement and joy you felt. You knew though that your happiness over his impending divorce probably isn’t what he needed right now so you forced back the smile that threatened to present itself on your face. “Oh, I’m… sorry?”

Honestly, you were very unsure of how you were supposed to react to that. He chuckled as he lifted you up enough to make sure your legs were straddling his own. “No being sorry, baby, you’re allowed to be happy.” As you settled on his thighs you smiled, leaning in to peck his lips repeatedly.

“So does this mean we´ll be like officially together now?” Your voice was filled with glee and hope. “Yes. I’m all yours.” Both of you grinned as you kissed him again, this kiss was longer, more meaning full.

His hands found their way to your hips like they had countless times before, moving you against him as you breathed heavily into his mouth. When your relentless grinding on his hardening length didn’t seem to be enough anymore, he encircled your waist with his arm and spun you both around, laying you on the soft material of his couch.

Your legs moved to wrap around his waist but he gently pushed them down, instead grasping the hem of the shirt of his you wore and pulling it over your head and onto the floor. “So gorgeous. You are so incredibly gorgeous, princess,” he breathed out as he took you in, only clad in a flimsy pair of underpants.

He ducked his head down, kissing all the way from your neck to your abdomen, the kisses weren’t to mark you as his or to prove anything, they were an expression of the absolute love and affection he felt for you. He came face to face with your covered core, pressing a teasingly soft kiss on where he was sure your clit was; eliciting a giggle and a squirm from you.

Soon enough, you found yourself staring up at him again, but that quickly died down when he claimed your lips in yet another passion filled kiss. His fingers trailed down your stomach, fiddling with the material of your panties for a moment before pulling it down your legs, leaving them to rest at the apex of your now bent knees.

Without any warning he plunged two fingers into your entrance, immediately curling them just right to hit that perfect spot inside of you. He moved his fingers as he stared in awe as you withered away from the kiss to release an epiphany of moans.

Once he was satisfied and sure that you were wet and ready, he extracted his digits, licking them clean before he pulled down your panties the entire way down your legs and his boxers along with them.

Your head, that was already thrown back, lulled into the couch even harder as he slowly and carefully sunk into your inviting hole and warmth. “I love you, I love you so much, such a pretty girl, my pretty girl,” he praised as he drew his hips back and snapped them forward, peppering kisses all over your collarbone.

Your head reeled as you spewed out whimpers and moans in return. This time felt different, different than any time before. It was the first time it wasn’t wrong. It wasn’t a distraction from Spencer´s shitty marriage and it wasn’t some comfort for you after a bad day, it was a profound, unfiltered declaration of your love for each other.

One of his hands founds its way between your bodies during the hazy love making, starting to gently rub circles upon your sensitive clit. “Oh! Oh god! Fuck, Spencer, I’m close! I’m close,” you squeaked, holding onto his shoulders tightly as he quickened his hips and his finger.

“I know, angel, I know.” Spencer wasn’t a religious man, under no means, but he was pretty sure that you were the closest thing to divinity he´ll ever be able to understand.

“Come for me,” he ordered in a soft tone. Just a few seconds after his words, you did as he said, your orgasms washing over you in a way that felt like both a small calm beautiful stream and a wild strong breathtaking ocean. Spencer followed quickly, the sensation of you clenching around him being as heavenly as he would image heaven.

After he had fucked you both through your intense highs, pulled out and carried you to the bathroom to pee and take a shower, you found yourselves resting on the terrace, dressed in comfy clothes and wrapped up in a warm blanket.

“Are you going to have to move out? Cause I only have a one bedroom. But I do want to move in with you. Or is it too soon? Do you think she told the team? They’re gonna hate us-!” You rambled nervously, leaving the hot chocolate Spencer had made you unattended in your hands.

“Hey, hey, calm down, honey, it’ll be fine. We´ll talk about this later, alright? Right now you have an extremely beautiful sunset In front you, an unbelievably attractive man beside you and a really tasty hot chocolate said unbelievably attractive man made you,” he reassured, grinning proudly as he spoke his last sentence.

“Oh, unbelievably attractive, huh?” you teased.

“Yes, incredibly, unbelievably attractive.” He smirked, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Okay, I can get on board with that but my hot chocolate is 1000 times better than this.” You shrugged and gave him a smile before turning to take in the sunset before you.

“Honestly? You’re completely right.”

@emma-e-a

[psychoticallykind]

Purple Ink

"Purple" - Jegulus Microfic - @into-the-jeggyverse - 536 words

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

"Hey, love!" James greeted him cheerfully, closing the front door. "How'd your exam go? Did you get my note?"

Regulus nodded, exhausted and very much ready to curl up with James and not think of the rest of the world ever again. "It went well, I got a perfect score."

"I knew it!" James cheered. He moved to sit down next to Regulus, pulling him into a hug. "I'm so proud of you."

"Yeah, okay," Regulus mumbled, cheeks burning. "It wasn't that hard."

"You're brilliant," James adamantly replied. "Did you get my note?"

Regulus shrugged. "Yeah."

There was a second of silence.

James shifted. "Did I do something wrong?"

"Nope."

"Are you sure?"

Regulus huffed, turning and burying his face against James's sweater as he spoke. "You made me cry again."

"I - I made you cry?" James sounded horrified. He tried to urge Regulus back, but Regulus stubbornly stayed right where he was. "I'm so sorry. I didn't - I didn't realize -"

"James," Regulus interrupted. "No. Stop that."

"But I made you cry," James protested.

Regulus nodded. "Yes, you did." He sighed, wrapping his arms around James's neck. "You made me cry. You and your stupid breakfast that you made me and your stupid notes and that stupid purple ink - why are the notes always in purple ink? Why don't you use black like a civilized person?"

"Uh," James sounded a little confused. "Because every time I write with purple ink you smile, and I like it when you smile?"

"That's a dumb reason," Regulus replied. "Dumb. It's a dumb reason, with dumb purple ink, and dumb notes that make me cry because it's too sweet, James, you are too sweet all the time, you are too nice to me."

James rubbed his back. "Do you want me to stop leaving you notes?"

Regulus did pull back then, giving James an affronted look. "If you ever do, I'll probably cry."

James met his eyes with a small smile. "Darling, I need you to be a little bit more clear. The notes make you cry happy tears? Is that what you're saying?"

Regulus shrugged. "I guess."

"Regulus."

Regulus hid against his sweater again. "I was having a bad morning, and I woke up late, and I was rushing. And then I didn't have to rush because you cleaned all of my school stuff up last night and put it in my bag, and you made me breakfast, and you bought coffee, and you left me a purple note with all of this nice, calming stuff about how you love me and I was going to do great and it made me cry but it also made my whole day better."

Regulus left out the part where he came home and put the note in the secret box. The box filled with notes written in purple ink.

James didn't know about that box.

"You've made my entire life better," James told him. "So I'm glad I could help a little."

"Idiot," Regulus grumbled. He cuddled closer. "I love you."

James laughed, and it made Regulus smile. "I love you, too, Regulus. I'll make sure to keep leaving purple notes."

Regulus nodded, pleased and exhausted and very much in love.

[sweetmisery]

first kiss with piwon | hyung line

pairing: theo | keeho | jiung x female!reader

genre: fluff

a/n: just a little drabble of sharing your first kiss with piwon, hope you like it :) pt 2 with maknae line will follow soon!

THEO - Between the Strings

The recording studio was dimly lit, as Theo sat there alone, his fingers fumbling on the guitar strings. His brow furrowed in frustration as he plucked and strummed the same chords over and over again. His lips moved silently as he worked through the song under his breath, his fingers slipping once more on the neck of the guitar.

“Come on,” he muttered to himself. He let out a frustrated sigh, slumping over the guitar.

It had been weeks since Theo had felt like himself. The pressure to finish the new album, the late-night recording sessions, and - most of all - the tension between the two of you were getting to him.

He didn’t know why things had become so awkward. At first, everything had been easy - your quick wit and creative eye as the groups stylist had made every interaction exciting, even fun. But lately, something had shifted. Theo found himself tripping over words around you, and he couldn’t ignore the way his heart raced every time you walked into the room.

You hadn’t seemed unaffected either. Your usual sharp comebacks had softened, replaced by a hesitance he couldn’t quite read. Every time you brushed past him backstage or adjusted something on his outfit, he’d catch you looking away a little too quickly.

Theo strummed the wrong chord again, his frustration bubbling over. He cursed under his breath, shaking his head.

Then the door flew open with a bang.

You froze in the doorway, wide-eyed. “Oh god, Theo, I’m so sorry! I thought this room was empty!”

Theo startled, nearly dropping his guitar as he turned to face you. His pulse quickened, the sight of you making it impossible to find his voice for a moment.

“No, it’s fine!” he said quickly, standing up so fast he almost knocked over the stool. “You’re fine. Really.”

“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” you said, already backing toward the door. “I’ll just-”

“No!” The word came out louder than Theo intended, and he winced at himself. Clearing his throat, he added more quietly, “I mean, don’t go. I could, uh… use your help.”

Your eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “My help?”

Theo set the guitar down, running a hand through his already messy hair. “Yeah. I’ve been working on this song, but I’m stuck. I just need someone to listen, and everyone else is… busy.” He left out the part where he didn't even ask anyone else.

For a moment, you hesitated, your hand still on the doorframe. Then you nodded. “Okay. Sure. I can do that.”

You stepped into the room, closing the door behind you. Theo swallowed hard, suddenly hyper-aware of how close you were as you leaned against the wall.

“I’m still figuring out the melody,” he said, his voice quieter now.

Then he started to play.

The first notes were soft, tentative, but as his fingers found their rhythm, his voice followed. The melody unfurled like a thread in the air, and when Theo sang the first line, you froze.

His voice was rich and haunting, a perfect match for the bittersweet lyrics. The emotion in his tone was palpable, like he was pouring pieces of himself into every word. You couldn’t look away.

Leaning against the wall, you let yourself get lost in the sound. It wasn’t just that his voice was beautiful, though it was. It was the way he sang with such vulnerability, as if baring his soul.

When he finished, the silence in the room felt almost holy.

“That was…” you began, but the words wouldn’t come.

Theo set the guitar aside, shaking his head. “Terrible, right?” He gave a self-conscious laugh, breaking the spell.

“No!” you said quickly, your voice firm. “Theo, that was… incredible. Your voice- it’s-” You stopped, heat rushing to your cheeks. “I mean, it’s beautiful. The whole thing is.”

Theo’s gaze met yours, and for a moment, something passed between you, an unspoken connection that made your heart race. But as quickly as it had disappeared, the tension returned, settling heavily between you.

“I, uh, should probably go,” you said, pushing off the wall.

Theo’s heart sank, but he nodded. “Yeah. Thanks for… listening.”

You smiled faintly, your fingers lingering on the doorknob for just a moment before you slipped out, leaving Theo alone with his unfinished song - and the sound of your voice still echoing in his mind.

-the next day-

The next day, Theo couldn’t get you out of his head. The way you’d looked at him during the song, the way your voice had softened - it played on repeat in his mind like an earworm he couldn’t shake.

He told himself he was imagining things, that he’d misread the moment. But when you walked into the studio again that afternoon, this time deliberately, he felt hope flicker to life.

“Hey,” you said softly, lingering by the door.

Theo straightened up on the stool, setting the guitar down as if unsure what to do. “Hey.”

“I was thinking about your song,” you said, stepping inside. “And I realized… I need to hear it again.”

“You do?” Theo's surprise melted into a small smile.

You nodded, your expression a mix of nerves and determination. “Yeah. I think… I wasn’t really listening yesterday. Not the way I should’ve been.”

Theo’s throat felt dry, but he nodded. “Okay. Yeah. I’ll play it for you.”

He started the song, his fingers moving more confidently this time. But as the melody filled the room, his gaze drifted to you. You weren’t leaning against the wall like before - you were standing closer, watching him with an intensity that made his heart race.

His voice was mesmerizing - angelic, even. The emotion in it was undeniable, raw and achingly real. It made your chest tighten, your breath catching as you took a step closer to him.

By the time he finished, you were standing just a few feet away, your heart pounding.

“That was…” you began, but your voice broke. You took another step forward. “Theo, that was incredible.”

His eyes met yours, his expression soft but searching. “Thanks,” he murmured. Theo set the guitar aside, standing up so that you were just a foot apart.

The tension between you was thick now, impossible to ignore. For weeks, you’d both danced around whatever this was, but now there was no escaping it.

”You know…,” Theo said softly, taking a step closer. ”Things have been kinda weird between us lately.”

You swallowed hard, nodding. “Yeah, they have.”

“I don’t know why, but…” Theo said, his voice low. ”I don’t want it to be like that anymore.”

You looked up at him, your eyes wide. “Me neither.”

For a moment, neither of you moved. The air felt electric as Theo suddenly took a tentative step closer, his gaze flickering to your lips.

“Can I…?” he began, his voice trailing off.

You didn’t let him finish. Instead, you closed the distance, your lips brushing his.

Theo froze for a split second, then melted into the kiss, his hands coming up to cradle your face. His lips were soft, warm, and impossibly gentle, and the sound of his breathing mixed with yours, creating a music of its own.

When you finally pulled away, Theo’s forehead rested against yours, both of you smiling through the nervous energy still buzzing between you.

“So,” you teased, your voice still breathless, “guess I should storm into recording sessions more often.”

Theo laughed, the sound warm and genuine. “You’d be my favorite distraction.”

You grinned, your fingers brushing against his as the two of you stayed close. The guitar still sat on the stool behind him, but the song felt complete now, even without another note being played.

KEEHO - Drenched in Love

The rain began as a soft drizzle, cool against your skin as you walked beside Keeho. The two of you had just left the café, where your usual flow of chatter had been replaced by long, quiet stretches. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but it felt different - charged, somehow.

“Guess we didn’t check the weather again, huh?” Keeho said, his laugh cutting through the sound of raindrops hitting pavement. His dark hair was already damp, strands clinging to his forehead in a way that made your stomach do an unwelcome little flip.

You pulled your jacket tighter, though it did little to keep the rain, or your emotion, at bay. Being with him had always been easy, effortless. But lately, you’d felt something else creeping in, something that made you hyper-aware of how close he was or how his smile lingered when he looked at you.

By the time the rain picked up, the two of you had ducked under the awning of a closed bookstore. It was familiar ground, a place you’d stopped at countless times to joke about bad book titles or dream up absurd stories. This time, though, neither of you seemed to know what to say.

Keeho leaned against the wall, his hands shoved into his jacket pockets. “Hey,” he said, his voice quieter than usual.

“Yeah?” You tried to sound casual, but it came out more uncertain than you’d hoped.

“You’ve been…” He paused, his gaze flicking to yours before darting away again. “I don’t know. You’ve been kind of different lately.”

Your heart skipped. Was he guessing at the feelings you’d been struggling to keep hidden? The ones that made your chest ache whenever he smiled at you like you were the only person who mattered?

“What do you mean?” you asked, hoping you sounded more composed than you felt.

Keeho hesitated, one hand lifting to rub the back of his neck, a habit you knew well. “I mean, not in a bad way. Just… I don’t know how to explain it.”

The rain filled the silence that followed, the steady rhythm matching the nervous thrum of your heartbeat. You wanted to say something, to push him to clarify, but fear rooted you in place.

“It’s probably stupid,” Keeho added with a quiet laugh, his eyes meeting yours for a fleeting moment before looking away again.

“It’s not stupid,” you said quickly, your voice firmer than you expected. “Just tell me.”

He turned to face you fully then, and the intensity in his expression made you forget the chill of the rain. “I don’t want to mess this up,” he said, his voice barely audible over the downpour.

Your throat tightened. “Mess what up?”

Keeho opened his mouth as if to answer, but a sudden crack of thunder made you both jump, the sound splitting the air and breaking the tension. You laughed nervously, the momentary distraction easing the tightness in your chest. Keeho’s laughter followed, warm and familiar, and for a second, things felt normal again.

But then his hand brushed against yours - whether by accident or not, you couldn’t tell - and the warmth of his touch sent a jolt through you. He didn’t pull away, and neither did you.

“We should probably find better shelter,” he said, though he made no move to leave.

You nodded, but your feet stayed rooted to the ground. His gaze found yours again, and this time, it didn’t waver. The rain fell harder now, soaking through your jacket and chilling you to the bone, but you hardly noticed.

“Keeho,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Yeah?” he asked, stepping closer.

The distance between you seemed to vanish in an instant. You could see the rain clinging to his lashes, the way his lips parted as if he wanted to say something but wasn’t sure how.

“I-” Your words faltered, caught somewhere between your head and your heart.

Before you could gather the courage to continue, a gust of wind whipped around you, scattering rain in chaotic waves. Keeho laughed, reaching out instinctively to steady you as the storm raged on. His hand wrapped around your arm, and the touch was electric, sending heat coursing through you despite the cold.

For a moment, the world seemed to fall away, leaving only the two of you standing there, soaked and shivering but unmoving. The words you wanted to say hovered on the tip of your tongue, but you didn’t need to speak them to know they were written all over your face.

So were his.

The rain was relentless now, soaking through every layer of clothing. You and Keeho were still standing there, frozen in a moment that felt like it had been years in the making. His hand lingered on your arm, his warmth a stark contrast to the chill seeping into your skin.

He didn’t let go.

The world around you seemed to blur, the pounding rain and rumbling thunder fading into the background. All you could focus on was him, the way his dark eyes searched yours, like he was trying to find the courage to take the leap you both knew was coming.

“Keeho,” you whispered, not trusting yourself to speak any louder.

His name on your lips seemed to break something in him. He took a small step closer, his fingers tightening slightly against your arm. “I… I’ve been wanting to say something,” he began, his voice low but steady. “But I didn’t know if-”

“Me too,” you interrupted, the words tumbling out before you could stop them.

His eyes widened slightly, his breath catching in his chest. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You nodded, and suddenly the words came easier. “I didn’t want to mess things up either. But… I can’t keep pretending that I don’t feel this.”

Keeho let out a shaky laugh, a sound of relief and disbelief. “You have no idea how long I’ve been trying to figure out if you felt the same way.”

The vulnerability in his voice made your chest ache. How could you not have seen it? The way he looked at you, the way his hand would linger when he touched your shoulder or brushed against your fingers. It had always been there, just below the surface, waiting for one of you to acknowledge it.

And now there was no going back.

“I guess we’re both pretty bad at this,” you said, trying to lighten the mood.

Keeho grinned, his usual confidence creeping back in. “Maybe. But we’re figuring it out, right?’’

His words hung in the air between you, and for a moment, neither of you moved. The rain poured down, soaking you both to the bone, but the cold didn’t matter anymore.

Keeho’s hand slid down your arm, his fingers brushing yours before settling on your hand. The touch was tentative, like he was waiting for you to pull away. But you didn’t.

Instead, you took a step closer, your free hand lifting almost instinctively to push the wet strands of hair out of his face. His breath hitched at the contact, and for a heartbeat, the only thing you could hear was the sound of your own pounding pulse.

And then he leaned in.

It was slow at first, as if he was giving you every chance to stop him. But you didn’t. You tilted your head up to meet him halfway, your heart racing as his lips brushed against yours.

The kiss was soft, almost hesitant, but it was enough to set your world spinning. Keeho’s hand tightened around yours, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you. The rain continued to fall, cold and unrelenting, but all you could feel was the heat of his touch, the warmth of his lips moving against yours.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath warm against your rain-chilled skin. “Was that okay?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You laughed, the sound breaking through the storm. “More than okay.”

Keeho smiled then, the kind of smile that made you feel like nothing else in the world mattered. “Good,” he said. “Because I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time.”

You didn’t know what would happen next, but in that moment, you didn’t care. The storm could rage on around you, but all that mattered was that you were here, together, no longer hiding what you both felt.

And as Keeho pulled you back into another kiss, you realized you didn’t want to be anywhere else.

JIUNG - Before You Go

The styling room was unusually quiet, the hum of activity that normally filled the space replaced by the soft rustle of make-up supplies being packed into your suitcase. You moved systematic, putting the powder brushes into a small etui and tucking it into the case. The air carried a bittersweet tension; it was strange to think that tonight would be the last time you’d close this door behind you.

Working as P1Harmony’s stylist had been more than just a job. You had shared laughter during fittings, offered comfort during stressful shoots, and your heart ached, not just for the job you loved but for the unspoken feelings you had buried deep inside for Jiung.

You couldn’t pinpoint when your feelings for him started to grow, but over time, his subtle smiles and quiet moments with you had become the highlight of your day. Of course, those feelings could never be acted upon. Being a stylist for an idol group meant following unspoken rules, and dating an idol was taboo.

It wasn’t easy to walk away, but this job could no longer sustain the financial pressures you faced. The offer from another music label was too good to pass up, even if it meant leaving behind the people you had grown to care for deeply.

You sighed, brushing aside the wave of emotion that threatened to consume you. “Just a few more things,” you whispered to yourself, trying to keep the ache in your chest at bay.

Suddenly, the door creaked open. Startled, you turned to see Jiung standing in the doorway, his dark eyes scanning the room before locking onto you. He was dressed casually, a black hoodie pulled over his head, but the way he stood there made your heart race.

“I thought I might find you here,” he said softly, stepping inside and closing the door behind him.

“Jiung,” you said, your voice catching slightly. “I didn’t expect-”

“I.. I wanted to see you one last time,” he interrupted, his gaze never wavering. “Before you leave.” His words hung in the air.

You swallowed hard, unsure of what to say. The intensity of his presence in the quiet room made it hard to breathe.

You forced a smile. “You’ll be fine without me. You’ve got a great team-”

“Don’t say that,” Jiung interrupted, his voice trembling slightly. He took a step closer, his eyes searching yours. “Do you really have to go?”

His question caught you off guard. “Jiung, it’s not that I want to leave,” you admitted, avoiding his gaze. “I just… need something different. I need to pay off some debts, and-”

“I know,” he interrupted. “But… if it's about the money, I will talk to our boss. I'm sure they are willing to match your new offer. You don't have to leave."

You shook your head, feeling tears prick at the corners of your eyes. "It's not just the money. I thought maybe it was time for something new, even if it hurts to leave."

Jiung frowned, his brows knitting together. "But you love working with us, right?"

"Of course, I do," you said, your chest tightening. "It's not an easy decision."

“Please don’t go,” Jiung said, his voice breaking slightly. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to handle not seeing you anymore.

His words struck a chord deep inside you. The thought of leaving P1Harmony, of leaving Jiung, had been tearing you apart. But you had convinced yourself there was no other option. Now, standing here in the intimate stillness of the styling room, his plea cracked the walls you had built around your emotions.

"Jiung, what are you saying?" You whispered, barely trusting your voice.

He took another step closer, reaching out hesitantly, his fingers brushing against yours before wrapping around your hand. His touch was warm and grounding, sending a jolt through your body.

Jiung took a deep breath, his gaze locking with yours. "I should've said this sooner, but l didn't know how. I was scared. Scared of what it could mean for me... for us. But now, with you leaving, I can't keep it in anymore."

Your heart was beating fast in your chest as he hesitated, searching for the right words.

"I like you," he confessed, his voice trembling slightly. "No, I- I think I've fallen for you. I don't know when it started, but every time I see you, I feel... I feel something I can't ignore. And now, knowing you won't be here anymore, it's killing me. I had to tell you, even if it's too late."

The world seemed to stop. Jiung’s words hung in the air, and for a moment, all you could do was stare at him, stunned. Jiung - the person you had been secretly pining for - felt the same way about you?

“Say something,” he urged, his voice cracking.

"Jiung," you said, your voice barely audible. "I... l feel the same way."

His eyes widened, a flicker of hope replacing the nervousness on his face. "You do?"

You nodded, a smile breaking through despite the tears threatening to spill. "I've liked you for so long, but I thought it was impossible. I thought you'd never feel the same."

He let out a shaky laugh, relief washing over him. "I should've told you sooner."

The kiss deepened, and you felt a thousand butterflies take flight in your chest. Jiung’s hands gently cupped your face, and for the first time in what felt like forever, everything felt right.

When he finally pulled away, his forehead rested against yours. You were both breathing hard, your emotions tangled in a beautiful mess.

“Please stay,” Jiung said, his voice barely above a whisper. “We’ll figure it out. Together.”

You hesitated. “Jiung… this is risky. What if someone finds out?”

“I don’t care,” he said firmly, his eyes locking onto yours. “I care about you. And I can’t let you leave without trying.”

Tears welled up in your eyes. “I didn’t want to leave in the first place. But I thought it was better this way. I thought… I thought you didn’t feel the same.”

Jiung smiled softly, brushing a tear from your cheek. “I’ve felt this way for so long. I just didn’t know how to tell you. But now that I have, I can’t let you go without a fight.”

His words melted the last of your doubts. “Okay,” you whispered.

“Okay?” Jiung asked, his eyes lighting up with hope.

You nodded. “I’ll stay. But we have to be careful.”

A relieved laugh escaped his lips, and he pulled you into a tight hug. “Thank you. Thank you for staying.”

As he held you close, you couldn’t help but smile. For the first time in a long time, the future felt bright, even if it was uncertain. Whatever challenges lay ahead, you knew you’d face them together.

© sweetmisery - please do not repost my works! ♡

[justsomerandomfanfic]

Voices From The Past - Bruce Wayne X Female Reader

Title: Voices From The Past

Bruce Wayne X Female Reader

(Can be seen as any iteration of Bruce Wayne, however the Batcave is from The Dark Knight).

Additional Characters: Reader's mother, Reader's father (Mentioned), Reader's Step-Mom (Mentioned), and Alfred (Mentioned)

WC: 4,108

Warnings: Crying, family issues/parent abandonment mentioned, Reader is mentioned to have a mother and father, italics, divorce hinted to, infidelity by Reader's mother mentioned, mentions of marriage, nicknames, Bruce is so wise, slight angst, and fluff

You never thought this day would come. Your phone shook in your shaking hands. Tears burned the backs of your eyes before rolling down your cheeks in waves. You stared at the blackened screen, unblinking, shocked, upset, overwhelmed… Too many emotions to fully process properly. 

Your mother called. Well, you didn't call her your mother. Technically, yes, she is your birth mother, who birthed you, but she wasn't your mom. Your step-mother was more of a mother than she was. Overall, it was complicated.

Now, the thing was, your mother never called. The day she walked out on you and your father was the last day you had ever seen or heard from her. And that was fifteen years ago.

You had very vague memories of your time and life with her before she left; a time at the local community pool, that one time she taught you how to bake cherry pie, and when she would tuck you in at night. One memory though, that somewhat haunted you at the worst of times, was when she would sing “You Are My Sunshine” to you. You hadn’t listened to that song since she left, it always reminded you too much of her. You hated being reminded of her.

After she left though, walking out on you and your father, it was like she had taken the bright sun with her. For a long time, you didn’t understand why she left or what you had done wrong. For a long time, you thought that you were the reason why she left. Were you not good enough? Were you not a good kid? What did you do to make her hate you that she left? 

You tried not to dwell on it, tried to be strong for your dad, who did his best to fill the gaping void she left behind. Your step-mother came into your life years later, a balm to your wounded family, and you slowly started to heal. But the scars remained, faint yet unforgotten.

And now, fifteen years later, that woman had the audacity to call you out of nowhere. How she got your number, you didn’t know. You didn’t really care. Her voice on the other end of the line was hesitant, almost trembling, like she wasn’t sure if you’d even answer. It was awkward, insanely so, and you wished that you had never answered the unknown number.

Her voice faltered as she spoke, a tentative edge threading through every word. “Hi, honey. It’s me,” She began, and for a split moment, you didn’t recognize the sound of her voice, but then it hit you like a tsunami and your eyes widened. It had been fifteen years after all, so it only made sense that you wouldn’t recognize her voice at first or at all. She paused. And it was long, heavy, and suffocating. She was waiting for you to say something. You didn’t. “I… I just wanted to see how you’ve been,” She continued, tone awkward, as if she didn’t know where to start or how much ground there was to cover. 

The words hit you, and you fought the urge to hang up right then. “How have I been?” You asked yourself, scoffing mentally.

“I know this is unexpected,” She continued, the slight tremor in her voice betraying her nerves. “I just… I think about you all the time. Wondering how you are doing, where you are. I- I never forgot about you.”

“Okay,” You finally spoke, your voice low, and tone tense. What could you even say to that? 

She let out a breath when you spoke finally, “Are you still in the same town?” She asked, her voice continuing to be cautious, “Or… Did you move? I always wondered if you stayed close to home or if you went somewhere else.” There was a painful irony in her words, like she was trying to piece together a puzzle she had willingly walked away from. The puzzle had long been put away, there was nothing to solve. She didn’t know where you were, what you did, or who you had become. “You must be doing well,” She added, trying to sound hopeful, “You were always a smart kid.” You pursed your lips at her words, “What… What have you been up to? Are you working? Married? Kids?”

Her questions came in rapid succession now, but the questions only grated on your nerves, reopening old wounds that you thought had long since scabbed over. She wanted to know everything, it seemed, about the life she had no part in. And all you wanted to know was why she thought she had the right to ask.

You swallowed thickly, feeling tears burn your eyes, but you held them in. Clearing your throat, you finally forced yourself to respond, though your tone was far from warm. Each word felt like it was being dragged out of you. “I moved,” You said shortly, not meeting her invisible gaze through the phone. “To Gotham.”

There was a pause on her end, a brief silence before she spoke again, her voice tinged with surprise. “Gotham? Wow, that’s... That’s far. I never would’ve guessed.”

You ignored the attempt at small talk. “Yeah,” You said curtly, hoping she’d drop the subject - and the call altogether - but of course, she didn’t do either.

“What do you do there? Are you working?”

You clenched your jaw. “I used to,” You replied, keeping it vague. You didn’t owe her the specifics, didn’t owe her anything, really.

Another pause, “Oh, I see. Well, that’s okay. Things happen, right?” She said awkwardly, trying to fill the silence. “There will always be another opportunity.”

You inhaled sharply, her assuming you lost whatever job you had irritated you, and you debated whether or not to answer her next question. The thought of sharing this part of your life with her felt wrong, like exposing something sacred to someone who hadn’t earned the right to know. 

“I’m married,” You said reluctantly, your voice stiff and clipped.

Her reaction was immediate, a soft gasp slipping from her lips. “Oh... Oh, wow. Married? That’s-”

“Yeah,” You interrupted, not wanting to hear her feigned excitement or whatever platitudes she had ready. “It happened a while ago.”

Your tone remained distant, each answer another brick in the wall you were determined to keep between you. She might have been your birth mother, but she wasn’t part of your life, and you weren’t about to let her waltz back in like she had any claim to it. Not unless she said or did something worthy enough for your forgiveness.

A flicker of surprise crossed your mind, though, as you realized she hadn’t even heard about your engagement years prior. It had been highly publicized at the time. Then again, she didn’t live in Gotham, and Gotham’s news rarely traveled far beyond the shadow of Metropolis. And you doubted that she was living there.

You shifted on the couch, unable to sit still, your free hand fidgeting with the hem of your sleeve. Every second stretched uncomfortably long as you tried to decide whether to end the call or endure it.

“So... What’s Gotham like?” She asked, her attempt at casual conversation landing awkwardly.

“It’s fine,” You replied shortly, your tone clipped. You tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, your fingers trembling slightly.

“Fine?” She echoed, a nervous laugh in her voice. “I hear it can be a bit... Rough, you know, with everything that goes on there. The crime-rate.”

“It has its moments,” You muttered, glancing at the clock. Time wasn’t moving fast enough.

She hesitated, clearly grasping for something else to say. “And your... Your partner?” She asked cautiously. “What’s he like? Or she?”

You swallowed hard, feeling a lump form in your throat. “He’s great,” You said stiffly, leaving it at that. You didn’t elaborate, didn’t offer details. This wasn’t her business.

“That’s good,” She said quickly, “I’m glad you found someone.”

You could feel your stomach twisting as she spoke. Her words were polite enough, but they carried an undercurrent of something you couldn’t quite name - guilt, maybe, or regret. You could only hope. Your grip on the phone tightened, and you shifted again, crossing and uncrossing your legs in an attempt to release some of the tension building in your chest.

“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” She added after another long pause, her voice quieter now.

You bit your lip, “I’m fine,” You said, the words sharper than you intended.

“I just...” She trailed off, sighing softly. “I wanted to hear your voice again. To know how you’re doing. It’s been… It’s been a while…”

Your throat constricted, and you blinked rapidly, trying to keep your emotions in check. You were twisting the hem of your sleeve now, nearly tearing the fabric, your leg bouncing restlessly.

“Well, now you know,” You said bluntly, your voice colder than you meant for it to be.

She was silent for a moment, and the weight of the silence was suffocating. You glanced at the screen, half-hoping the call would drop, giving you an excuse to end it.

“I’ve missed you,” She said finally, her voice breaking slightly. You closed your eyes, exhaling shakily. Your fingers hovered over the “end call” button, and for a moment, you considered pressing it. But something - curiosity, obligation, or maybe just the tiniest trace of unresolved pain - kept you on the line. “And- and I love you. I’ve always loved you,” She added, her voice trembling. The words hit you like a punch to the gut, stealing the breath from your lungs. You stared blankly at the floor, your mind spinning. Your chest tightened painfully, her words stirring emotions you didn’t want to acknowledge. 

You didn’t respond, didn’t even trust yourself to speak. “Yeah right. You sure have a funny way of showing it.” You thought. Silence stretched between you, heavy and suffocating, until she filled it once more.

“I love you,” She repeated, her voice softer, almost pleading. It was as if she were hoping that, this time, you’d say it back. When you didn’t, she sighed, the sound tinged with resignation. “Well... You have my number now,” She said quietly. “I hope... I hope you’ll call me or text me sometime.”

“Okay,” You murmured.

There was a pause, and you could hear the sadness in her voice when she said, “Take care of yourself, honey.”

The line went dead with a soft click, and you were left staring at the blackened screen of your phone, your hands still trembling. For a moment, you were frozen, the weight of the conversation pressing down on you like a lead blanket.

Then, the tears came, hot and uncontrollable. They streaked down your face, dripping onto your legs as your shoulders began to shake. A strangled sob escaped your throat, and before you knew it, you were doubling over, clutching the phone tightly in both hands.

Your chest heaved as you gasped for air between sobs, the dam of emotions you’d held back for years finally breaking. You curled into yourself, hugging your knees to your chest as you rocked slightly on the couch, tears streaming endlessly. The sound of your own cries filled the room, raw and unfiltered.

The phone slipped from your grasp and landed on the cushion beside you, forgotten as you buried your face in your hands. It felt like the world had been turned upside down, and all you could do was let the storm of grief, confusion, and anger wash over you.

You didn’t know how long you laid there, your sobs slowly slipping into silence. The tears had long since dried on your cheeks, leaving a salty, tight feeling on your skin. You stared blankly at the wall in front of you, unmoving, your mind overrun with thoughts and emotions. It was as though you were suspended in a void, caught between the past and the present, wishing - oh, god, did you wish - that you had never answered your phone.

You weren’t okay - far from it - but eventually, you felt stable enough to move. Sluggishly, you pushed yourself into a sitting position. Your arms felt leaden as you reached up to rub your warm cheeks, your fingers trembling slightly as you tried to compose yourself.

A shaky sigh escaped your lips. Your head fell forward, your elbows resting on your knees as you stared down at the floor. The weight of all of her words lingered, pressing down on you.

Rising, you sniffled, dragging your socked feet along the cool hardwood floors as you drifted through the living room and down the hall. The dim light of the setting sun filtered through the heavy curtains, casting long shadows against the walls. Usually, you would take the time to admire the sunset, but tonight, you didn’t want to. You continued to wander, slipping past the kitchen and the library.

Your steps faltered momentarily as you approached the grand piano in the corner of the study. Its polished surface gleamed faintly in the dim light. For a moment, you hesitated, your fingers hovering over the cool ivory keys, before pressing a specific sequence - notes that resonated softly through the quiet room.

A faint mechanical click broke the silence as the hidden mechanism activated, part of the bookshelf behind you gliding aside to reveal a concealed elevator. You stepped inside, the doors closing behind you with a quiet hiss. As the elevator descended, the air grew cooler, carrying the faint earthy scent of stone. 

The elevator doors opened, the Batcave sprawled before you in all its dark glory. Gleaming metal and stark lighting illuminated the space, reflecting off the walls of jagged rock and smooth concrete. The massive expanse felt both imposing and oddly comforting. The sound of trickling water echoed from the waterfalls and their pools, mingling with the low hum of machinery and the occasional beep of system.

You walked along the narrow bridge that stretched over one of the cave’s pools, the platform ahead glowing faintly from the illumination of the LED lights hanging above. The faint chill of the air seeped through your clothes as your arms wrapped tightly around yourself, seeking warmth.

You lingered a moment longer, your heart tightening as you watched him, his broad shoulders bathed in the soft glow of the monitors. Even in the depths of his focus, there was a quiet compassion about him, a gentleness that softened the unyielding strength he carried. Bruce was your rock, the calm in every storm, and a love so steady, so unwavering, it felt like something you’d only dreamed could be real.

You moved closer, standing beside his chair, the soft glow of the screen illuminating his sharp features. The strong line of his jaw, the way strands of his hair fell over his forehead a bit, the way his lips pressed together in concentration - it was impossible not to love every detail of him.

Bruce was the kind of man who bore the weight of the world without faltering, always making space to carry you through your own storms. He was unwaveringly selfless, fiercely protective, and gave every piece of himself even when he had little left to offer. And, of course, he was devastatingly handsome. Those piercing blue eyes, the unruly dark hair, and a sculpted frame that seemed carved from marble itself. But it was the way he loved you, so completely and unconditionally, that left you breathless every time.

You glanced down at him, your fingers gently grazing the back of his chair. Even without meeting your gaze, you knew he sensed your presence - he always did. Time and again, you found yourself seeking him out, whether you had something to share or simply craved the comfort of being near him.

Without a word, your hand slowly lifted, your fingers grazing through his hair, the strands soft beneath your touch. The simple act brought an immediate sense of calm, as it always did. There was something soothing about the way his hair slipped between your fingers. But the pull of him was too strong. With a soft sigh, you moved around to his side. wordlessly, you lifted one of his arms, sliding into his lap with a gentle movement. Your legs draped over the sides of his chair, your body settling close to his.

Bruce’s hand instinctively rested on your back, fingers splayed across your - his - nightshirt. His other hand, still hovering over the keyboard, stilled for a moment, his muscles relaxing. He didn’t need to say anything - his quiet presence, the warmth of his touch, was really all you needed.

You buried your face in his neck, your cold nose pressing against his warm skin, inhaling his familiar scent. Wrapping your arms around him, you let your fingers slip underneath his shirt, trying to get as much skin-to-skin contact as you could. The warmth of his skin against yours was like coming home, and you let out a soft sigh of relief, closing your eyes as you melted into him. Bruce shifted slightly, his arm tightening around you as he leaned his head against yours. 

For the next couple of minutes, neither of you said a word. Bruce didn’t ask if you were alright; he knew better than that. He knew something was wrong. But he would never rush you, and never push you to speak before you were ready. He just held you, patient as always, waiting for you to open up.

You took a deep breath, the weight of everything still pressing heavily on your chest. Finally, your voice broke the silence, soft, hesitant, muffled. “My mother called me.” Your fingers continued to softly trace the contours of his skin, brushing over the faint scars that lay hidden beneath his shirt. The words felt like a stone in your throat, hard to let out but impossible to keep inside for much longer. You needed to vent.

Bruce’s hand, which had been rubbing soothing circles on your own back, paused. You could feel his body shift slightly, his focus entirely on you. “What did she want?” He continued his gentle movements.

You bit your lip, a shaky breath escaping as you finally answered, “She wanted to catch up. After all these years… She wanted to know what I was doing, if I was married, if I had kids…” Your arms around Bruce’s mid-section tightened. “Waltzing back into my life like nothing happened.” The dam inside you broke. You could feel your tears starting to fall, “She just left. She left us - me and dad. Without any explanation. No goodbye. Nothing. And now she thinks she can just pick up the phone like nothing’s wrong? Like everything’s fine?” You shook your head, the bitterness, pain, and confusion flooding your words. “It hurts, Bruce. It hurts so much, and I never was told why, just… Nothing. No answers, no apology.”

As your words began to fade, Bruce’s hand gently tapped your back, signaling for you to sit up. You huffed sadly, wiping your tears away with the back of your hand, feeling exhausted. 

Bruce’s eyes softened with understanding. “You’ve never told me about your mother before.”

You shrugged slightly, feeling your heart twist as you dropped your eyes to your hands in your lap. “She was never really in my life.” You hesitated for a moment, but the warmth of Bruce’s touch, his understanding presence, made it easier to continue. You looked back up at him then, meeting his gaze. His eyes were steady, filled with patience and care, and it made everything seem just a little more bearable. “When I was ten, she just… Up and left. She just walked away from me and dad without a word, well, at least to me.” Your voice wavered, thick with emotion. “It wasn’t until I was in my late teens that dad finally told me she left him for another man. She never even tried to explain it to me. I was just… Left behind. And replaced… That guy she left us for had another daughter around my age…”

Bruce’s hand found yours, threading his fingers through yours gently so you would stop picking at your skin, along with to support you. “It hurt so much,” You added quietly, wiping your eyes again with your free hand. “Not just mentally, but emotionally. And then she calls me, after all this time, and it just… It opened the wound again. I thought it had healed, but it’s still there.”

Bruce’s hand squeezed yours, his thumb brushing over the back of your knuckles. “I’m so sorry you went through that,” He murmured, his free hand brushing your hair back from your eyes before cupping your cheek. “You didn’t deserve that. You didn’t deserve any of it.” You tilted your head into his palm, nuzzling closer, covering his hand with yours, grateful for his unwavering support, for his gentle affection that surrounded you like a shield. “And you’re not alone,” He whispered, his voice filled with a quiet strength that anchored you. “You have your dad, your step-mom, and of course, you have Alfred. And I’m here. I will always be here for you.” He then lifted your hand, his eyes never breaking contact with yours. His thumb ran over the wedding ring, a soft smile forming on his lips. “To death do us part, remember?” He said lovingly, reassuringly, before pressing a gentle kiss to the space above the ring on your hand.

You let out a breathy mix of a sigh and a chuckle, smiling as you repeated his words, “To death do us part.” Your heart swelled, feeling the warmth of his love, and you knew, deep down, he was right. You weren't alone, not now, not ever. Your heart swelled with gratitude, with love, the tears slowly drying up. Bruce wasn’t just your husband; he was your home. And in his arms, you finally felt like you could breathe again. "Thank you, Brucie," You slowly, “But, I don’t know what to do now." You admitted, the words spilling out before you could stop them. "I don’t know how to move forward. I don’t even know if I should call her... Or if I should let her in again."

"It’s all your choice, sweetheart," He said, his voice unwavering. "You don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for." You let out a shaky breath, leaning back into him, finding comfort in the steady beat of his heart beneath your ear. "Just because she called, trying to reconnect, doesn’t mean you have to call her tomorrow or even a week from now." He continued, "It could be three years from now, or six months. Whenever you feel ready. Or you don’t ever have to call her." The reassurance in his voice eased some of the tightness in your chest, the pressure to make a decision immediately slipping away. "You’ll know when you’re ready," Bruce added, "And no matter what you decide, I’m here for you."

You closed your eyes, taking in his words, letting the warmth of his embrace comfort you. For once, the world didn’t feel as heavy. “If I call her, will you be there with me?”

"Of course," Bruce said, "I'll be right beside you, every step of the way. Whatever you need, I’m here. If you decide to reach out to her, I’ll be there with you." He then cupped the back of your head, his thumb brushing softly upon your hair. He pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, lingering for a moment as he then nuzzled his nose into your hairline. He pulled back just enough to glance at the clock on his monitors. His eyes softened as he looked back at you, his voice gentle but filled with determination. "I’m staying home from patrol tonight," He said, "We can order your favorite take-out, watch one of our movies." His expression was thoughtful, and you could tell that he was making sure everything would be exactly how you needed it to be. Trying to make the rest of the night as comforting and fun as possible. “I’ll even see if Alfred would mind making cookies.”

You sat up slowly, wiping away any lingering tears as a small smile tugged at your lips. The idea of a quiet night with him, no worries or demands, was exactly what you needed. "Can we cuddle?"

Bruce's lips quirked upward and without a word, he moved to pull you closer, his arms wrapping around you. "Of course, my love," He whispered, his voice deep and soothing. "Anything for you."

~~~

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